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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of Murad the Unlucky and Other Tales, by Maria Edgeworth
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: Murad the Unlucky and Other Tales
+
+Author: Maria Edgeworth
+
+Release Date: April, 2000 [eBook #2129]
+[Most recently updated: November 22, 2021]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+Produced by: David Price
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE UNLUCKY AND OTHER TALES ***
+
+
+
+
+MURAD THE UNLUCKY
+AND OTHER TALES
+
+
+by Maria Edgeworth
+
+
+
+
+Contents:
+
+  Introduction
+  Murad the Unlucky
+  The Limerick Gloves
+  Madame de Fleury
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+Maria Edgeworth came of a lively family which had settled in Ireland in
+the latter part of the sixteenth century. Her father at the age of five-
+and-twenty inherited the family estates at Edgeworthstown in 1769. He
+had snatched an early marriage, which did not prove happy. He had a
+little son, whom he was educating upon the principles set forth in
+Rousseau's "Emile," and a daughter Maria, who was born on the 1st of
+January, 1767. He was then living at Hare Hatch, near Maidenhead. In
+March, 1773, his first wife died after giving birth to a daughter named
+Anna. In July, 1773, he married again, Honora Sneyd, and went to live in
+Ireland, taking with him his daughter Maria, who was then about six years
+old. Two years afterwards she was sent from Ireland to a school at
+Derby. In April, 1780, her father's second wife died, and advised him
+upon her death-bed to marry her sister Elizabeth. He married his
+deceased wife's sister on the next following Christmas Day. Maria
+Edgeworth was in that year removed to a school in London, and her
+holidays were often spent with her father's friend Thomas Day, the author
+of "Sandford and Merton," an eccentric enthusiast who lived then at
+Anningsley, in Surrey.
+
+Maria Edgeworth--always a little body--was conspicuous among her
+schoolfellows for quick wit, and was apt alike for study and invention.
+She was story-teller general to the community. In 1782, at the age of
+fifteen, she left school and went home with her father and his third
+wife, who then settled finally at Edgeworthstown.
+
+At Edgeworthstown Richard Lovell Edgeworth now became active in the
+direct training of his children, in the improvement of his estate, and in
+schemes for the improvement of the country. His eldest daughter, Maria,
+showing skill with the pen, he made her more and more his companion and
+fellow-worker to good ends. She kept household accounts, had entrusted
+to her the whole education of a little brother, wrote stories on a slate
+and read them to the family, wiped them off when not approved, and copied
+them in ink if they proved popular with the home public. Miss
+Edgeworth's first printed book was a plea for the education of women,
+"Letters to Literary Ladies," published in 1795, when her age was eight-
+and-twenty. Next year, 1796, working with her father, she produced the
+first volume of the "Parent's Assistant." In November, 1797, when Miss
+Edgeworth's age was nearly thirty-one, her father, then aged fifty-three,
+lost his third wife, and he married a fourth in the following May. The
+fourth wife, at first objected to, was young enough to be a companion and
+friend, and between her and Maria Edgeworth a fast friendship came to be
+established. In the year of her father's fourth marriage Maria joined
+him in the production of two volumes on "Practical Education." Then
+followed books for children, including "Harry and Lucy," which had been
+begun by her father years before in partnership with his second wife,
+when Thomas Day began writing "Sandford and Merton," with the original
+intention that it should be worked in as a part of the whole scheme.
+
+In the year 1800 Miss Edgeworth, thirty-three years old, began her
+independent career as a novelist with "Castle Rackrent;" and from that
+time on, work followed work in illustration of the power of a woman of
+genius to associate quick wit and quick feeling with sound sense and a
+good reason for speaking. Sir Walter Scott in his frank way declared
+that he received an impulse from Miss Edgeworth's example as a
+story-teller. In the general preface to his own final edition of the
+Waverley Novels he said that "Without being so presumptuous as to hope to
+emulate the rich humour, pathetic tenderness, and admirable tact, which
+pervade the works of my accomplished friend, I felt that something might
+be attempted for my own country of the same kind with that which Miss
+Edgeworth so fortunately achieved for Ireland--something which might
+introduce her natives to those of the sister kingdom in a more favourable
+light than they had been placed hitherto, and tend to procure sympathy
+for their virtues and indulgence for their foibles."
+
+Of the three stories in this volume, who--"Murad the Unlucky" and "The
+Limerick Gloves"--first appeared in three volumes of "Popular Tales,"
+which were first published in 1804, with a short introduction by Miss
+Edgeworth's father. "Madame de Fleury" was written a few years later.
+
+H. M.
+
+
+
+
+MURAD THE UNLUCKY
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+It is well known that the grand seignior amuses himself by going at
+night, in disguise, through streets of Constantinople; as the caliph
+Haroun Alraschid used formerly to do in Bagdad.
+
+One moonlight night, accompanied by his grand vizier, he traversed
+several of the principal streets of the city without seeing anything
+remarkable. At length, as they were passing a rope-maker's, the sultan
+recollected the Arabian story of Cogia-Hassan Alhabal, the rope-maker,
+and his two friends, Saad and Saadi, who differed so much in their
+opinion concerning the influence of fortune over human affairs.
+
+"What is your opinion on this subject?" said the grand seignior to his
+vizier.
+
+"I am inclined, please your majesty," replied the vizier, "to think that
+success in the world depends more upon prudence than upon what is called
+luck, or fortune."
+
+"And I," said the sultan, "am persuaded that fortune does more for men
+than prudence. Do you not every day hear of persons who are said to be
+fortunate or unfortunate? How comes it that this opinion should prevail
+amongst men, if it be not justified by experience?"
+
+"It is not for me to dispute with your majesty," replied the prudent
+vizier.
+
+"Speak your mind freely; I desire and command it," said the sultan.
+
+"Then I am of opinion," answered the vizier, "that people are often led
+to believe others fortunate, or unfortunate, merely because they only
+know the general outline of their histories; and are ignorant of the
+incidents and events in which they have shown prudence or imprudence. I
+have heard, for instance, that there are at present, in this city, two
+men, who are remarkable for their good and bad fortune: one is called
+Murad the Unlucky, and the other Saladin the Lucky. Now, I am inclined
+to think, if we could hear their stories, we should find that one is a
+prudent and the other an imprudent character."
+
+"Where do these men live?" interrupted the sultan. "I will hear their
+histories from their own lips before I sleep."
+
+"Murad the Unlucky lives in the next square," said the vizier.
+
+The sultan desired to go thither immediately. Scarcely had they entered
+the square, when they heard the cry of loud lamentations. They followed
+the sound till they came to a house of which the door was open, and where
+there was a man tearing his turban, and weeping bitterly. They asked the
+cause of his distress, and he pointed to the fragments of a china vase,
+which lay on the pavement at his door.
+
+"This seems undoubtedly to be beautiful china," said the sultan, taking
+up one of the broken pieces; "but can the loss of a china vase be the
+cause of such violent grief and despair?"
+
+"Ah, gentlemen," said the owner of the vase, suspending his lamentations,
+and looking at the dress of the pretended merchants, "I see that you are
+strangers: you do not know how much cause I have for grief and despair!
+You do not know that you are speaking to Murad the Unlucky! Were you to
+hear all the unfortunate accidents that have happened to me, from the
+time I was born till this instant, you would perhaps pity me, and
+acknowledge I have just cause for despair."
+
+Curiosity was strongly expressed by the sultan; and the hope of obtaining
+sympathy inclined Murad to gratify it by the recital of his adventures.
+"Gentlemen," said he, "I scarcely dare invite you into the house of such
+an unlucky being as I am; but if you will venture to take a night's
+lodging under my roof, you shall hear at your leisure the story of my
+misfortunes."
+
+The sultan and the vizier excused themselves from spending the night with
+Murad, saying that they were obliged to proceed to their khan, where they
+should be expected by their companions; but they begged permission to
+repose themselves for half an hour in his house, and besought him to
+relate the history of his life, if it would not renew his grief too much
+to recollect his misfortunes.
+
+Few men are so miserable as not to like to talk of their misfortunes,
+where they have, or where they think they have, any chance of obtaining
+compassion. As soon as the pretended merchants were seated, Murad began
+his story in the following manner:--
+
+"My father was a merchant of this city. The night before I was born he
+dreamed that I came into the world with the head of a dog and the tail of
+a dragon; and that, in haste to conceal my deformity, he rolled me up in
+a piece of linen, which unluckily proved to be the grand seignior's
+turban; who, enraged at his insolence in touching his turban, commanded
+that his head should be struck off.
+
+"My father awaked before he lost his head, but not before he had lost
+half his wits from the terror of his dream. He considered it as a
+warning sent from above, and consequently determined to avoid the sight
+of me. He would not stay to see whether I should really be born with the
+head of a dog and the tail of a dragon; but he set out, the next morning,
+on a voyage to Aleppo.
+
+"He was absent for upwards of seven years; and during that time my
+education was totally neglected. One day I inquired from my mother why I
+had been named Murad the Unlucky. She told me that this name was given
+to me in consequence of my father's dream; but she added that perhaps it
+might be forgotten, if I proved fortunate in my future life. My nurse, a
+very old woman, who was present, shook her head, with a look which I
+shall never forget, and whispered to my mother loud enough for me to
+hear, 'Unlucky he was, and is, and ever will be. Those that are born to
+ill luck cannot help themselves; nor can any, but the great prophet,
+Mahomet himself, do anything for them. It is a folly for an unlucky
+person to strive with their fate: it is better to yield to it at once.'
+
+"This speech made a terrible impression upon me, young as I then was; and
+every accident that happened to me afterwards confirmed my belief in my
+nurse's prognostic. I was in my eighth year when my father returned from
+abroad. The year after he came home my brother Saladin was born, who was
+named Saladin the Lucky, because the day he was born a vessel freighted
+with rich merchandise for my father arrived safely in port.
+
+"I will not weary you with a relation of all the little instances of good
+fortune by which my brother Saladin was distinguished, even during his
+childhood. As he grew up, his success in everything he undertook was as
+remarkable as my ill luck in all that I attempted. From the time the
+rich vessel arrived, we lived in splendour; and the supposed prosperous
+state of my father's affairs was of course attributed to the influence of
+my brother Saladin's happy destiny.
+
+"When Saladin was about twenty, my father was taken dangerously ill; and
+as he felt that he should not recover, he sent for my brother to the side
+of his bed, and, to his great surprise, informed him that the
+magnificence in which we had lived had exhausted all his wealth; that his
+affairs were in the greatest disorder; for, having trusted to the hope of
+continual success, he had embarked in projects beyond his powers.
+
+"The sequel was, he had nothing remaining to leave to his children but
+two large china vases, remarkable for their beauty, but still more
+valuable on account of certain verses inscribed upon them in an unknown
+character, which were supposed to operate as a talisman or charm in
+favour of their possessors.
+
+"Both these vases my father bequeathed to my brother Saladin; declaring
+he could not venture to leave either of them to me, because I was so
+unlucky that I should inevitably break it. After his death, however, my
+brother Saladin, who was blessed with a generous temper, gave me my
+choice of the two vases; and endeavoured to raise my spirits by repeating
+frequently that he had no faith either in good fortune or ill fortune.
+
+"I could not be of his opinion, though I felt and acknowledged his
+kindness in trying to persuade me out of my settled melancholy. I knew
+it was in vain for me to exert myself, because I was sure that, do what I
+would, I should still be Murad the Unlucky. My brother, on the contrary,
+was nowise cast down, even by the poverty in which my father left us: he
+said he was sure he should find some means of maintaining himself; and so
+he did.
+
+"On examining our china vases, he found in them a powder of a bright
+scarlet colour; and it occurred to him that it would make a fine dye. He
+tried it, and after some trouble, it succeeded to admiration.
+
+"During my father's lifetime, my mother had been supplied with rich
+dresses by one of the merchants who was employed by the ladies of the
+grand seignior's seraglio. My brother had done this merchant some
+trifling favours, and, upon application to him, he readily engaged to
+recommend the new scarlet dye. Indeed, it was so beautiful, that, the
+moment it was seen, it was preferred to every other colour. Saladin's
+shop was soon crowded with customers; and his winning manners and
+pleasant conversation were almost as advantageous to him as his scarlet
+dye. On the contrary, I observed that the first glance at my melancholy
+countenance was sufficient to disgust every one who saw me. I perceived
+this plainly; and it only confirmed me the more in my belief in my own
+evil destiny.
+
+"It happened one day that a lady, richly apparelled and attended by two
+female slaves, came to my brother's house to make some purchases. He was
+out, and I alone was left to attend to the shop. After she had looked
+over some goods, she chanced to see my china vase, which was in the room.
+She took a prodigious fancy to it, and offered me any price if I would
+part with it; but this I declined doing, because I believed that I should
+draw down upon my head some dreadful calamity if I voluntarily
+relinquished the talisman. Irritated by my refusal, the lady, according
+to the custom of her sex, became more resolute in her purpose; but
+neither entreaties nor money could change my determination. Provoked
+beyond measure at my obstinacy, as she called it, she left the house.
+
+"On my brother's return, I related to him what had happened, and expected
+that he would have praised me for my prudence; but, on the contrary, he
+blamed me for the superstitious value I set upon the verses on my vase;
+and observed that it would be the height of folly to lose a certain means
+of advancing my fortune for the uncertain hope of magical protection. I
+could not bring myself to be of his opinion; I had not the courage to
+follow the advice he gave. The next day the lady returned, and my
+brother sold his vase to her for ten thousand pieces of gold. This money
+he laid out in the most advantageous manner, by purchasing a new stock of
+merchandise. I repented when it was too late; but I believe it is part
+of the fatality attending certain persons, that they cannot decide
+rightly at the proper moment. When the opportunity has been lost, I have
+always regretted that I did not do exactly the contrary to what I had
+previously determined upon. Often, whilst I was hesitating, the
+favourable moment passed.[1] Now this is what I call being unlucky. But
+to proceed with my story.
+
+    [1] "Whom the gods wish to destroy, they first deprive of
+    understanding."
+
+"The lady who bought my brother Saladin's vase was the favourite of the
+Sultan, and all-powerful in the seraglio. Her dislike to me, in
+consequence of my opposition to her wishes, was so violent, that she
+refused to return to my brother's house while I remained there. He was
+unwilling to part with me; but I could not bear to be the ruin of so good
+a brother. Without telling him my design, I left his house careless of
+what should become of me. Hunger, however, soon compelled me to think of
+some immediate mode of obtaining relief. I sat down upon a stone, before
+the door of a baker's shop: the smell of hot bread tempted me in, and
+with a feeble voice I demanded charity.
+
+"The master baker gave me as much bread as I could eat, upon condition
+that I should change dresses with him and carry the rolls for him through
+the city this day. To this I readily consented; but I had soon reason to
+repent of my compliance. Indeed, if my ill-luck had not, as usual,
+deprived me at this critical moment of memory and judgment, I should
+never have complied with the baker's treacherous proposal. For some time
+before, the people of Constantinople had been much dissatisfied with the
+weight and quality of the bread furnished by the bakers. This species of
+discontent has often been the sure forerunner of an insurrection; and, in
+these disturbances, the master bakers frequently lose their lives. All
+these circumstances I knew, but they did not occur to my memory when they
+might have been useful.
+
+"I changed dresses with the baker; but scarcely had I proceeded through
+the adjoining streets with my rolls before the mob began to gather round
+me with reproaches and execrations. The crowd pursued me even to the
+gates of the grand seignior's palace, and the grand vizier, alarmed at
+their violence, sent out an order to have my head struck off; the usual
+remedy, in such cases, being to strike off the baker's head.
+
+"I now fell upon my knees, and protested I was not the baker for whom
+they took me; that I had no connection with him; and that I had never
+furnished the people of Constantinople with bread that was not weight. I
+declared I had merely changed clothes with a master baker for this day,
+and that I should not have done so but for the evil destiny which governs
+all my actions. Some of the mob exclaimed that I deserved to lose my
+head for my folly; but others took pity on me, and whilst the officer,
+who was sent to execute the vizier's order, turned to speak to some of
+the noisy rioters, those who were touched by my misfortune opened a
+passage for me through the crowd, and thus favoured, I effected my
+escape.
+
+"I quitted Constantinople; my vase I had left in the care of my brother.
+At some miles' distance from the city I overtook a party of soldiers. I
+joined them, and learning that they were going to embark with the rest of
+the grand seignior's army for Egypt, I resolved to accompany them. 'If
+it be,' thought I, 'the will of Mahomet that I should perish, the sooner
+I meet my fate the better.' The despondency into which I was sunk was
+attended by so great a degree of indolence, that I scarcely would take
+the necessary means to preserve my existence. During our passage to
+Egypt I sat all day long upon the deck of the vessel, smoking my pipe,
+and I am convinced that if a storm had risen, as I expected, I should not
+have taken my pipe from my mouth, nor should I have handled a rope to
+save myself from destruction. Such is the effect of that species of
+resignation, or torpor, whichever you please to call it, to which my
+strong belief in fatality had reduced my mind.
+
+"We landed, however, safely, contrary to my melancholy forebodings. By a
+trifling accident, not worth relating, I was detained longer than any of
+my companions in the vessel when we disembarked, and I did not arrive at
+the camp till late at night. It was moonlight, and I could see the whole
+scene distinctly. There was a vast number of small tents scattered over
+a desert of white sand; a few date-trees were visible at a distance; all
+was gloomy, and all still; no sound was to be heard but that of the
+camels feeding near the tents, and, as I walked on, I met with no human
+creature.
+
+"My pipe was now out, and I quickened my pace a little towards a fire
+which I saw near one of the tents. As I proceeded, my eye was caught by
+something sparkling in the sand: it was a ring. I picked it up and put
+it on my finger, resolving to give it to the public crier the next
+morning, who might find out its rightful owner; but, by ill-luck, I put
+it on my little finger, for which it was much too large, and as I
+hastened towards the fire to light my pipe, I dropped the ring. I
+stooped to search for it amongst the provender on which a mule was
+feeding, and the cursed animal gave me so violent a kick on the head that
+I could not help roaring aloud.
+
+"My cries awakened those who slept in the tent near which the mule was
+feeding. Provoked at being disturbed, the soldiers were ready enough to
+think ill of me, and they took it for granted that I was a thief, who had
+stolen the ring I pretended to have just found. The ring was taken from
+me by force, and the next day I was bastinadoed for having found it; the
+officer persisting in the belief that stripes would make me confess where
+I had concealed certain other articles of value which had lately been
+missed in the camp. All this was the consequence of my being in a hurry
+to light my pipe and of my having put the ring on a finger that was too
+little for it, which no one but Murad the Unlucky would have done.
+
+"When I was able to walk again, after my wounds were healed, I went into
+one of the tents distinguished by a red flag, having been told that these
+were coffee-houses. Whilst I was drinking coffee I heard a stranger near
+me complaining that he had not been able to recover a valuable ring he
+had lost, although he had caused his loss to be published for three days
+by the public crier, offering a reward of two hundred sequins to whoever
+should restore it. I guessed that this was the very ring which I had
+unfortunately found. I addressed myself to the stranger, and promised to
+point out to him the person who had forced it from me. The stranger
+recovered his ring, and, being convinced that I had acted honestly, he
+made me a present of two hundred sequins, as some amends for the
+punishment which I had unjustly suffered on his account.
+
+"Now you would imagine that this purse of gold was advantageous to me.
+Far the contrary; it was the cause of new misfortunes.
+
+"One night, when I thought that the soldiers who were in the same tent
+with me were all fast asleep, I indulged myself in the pleasure of
+counting my treasure. The next day I was invited by my companions to
+drink sherbet with them. What they mixed with the sherbet which I drank
+I know not, but I could not resist the drowsiness it brought on. I fell
+into a profound slumber, and when I awoke, I found myself lying under a
+date-tree, at some distance from the camp.
+
+"The first thing I thought of when I came to my recollection was my purse
+of sequins. The purse I found still safe in my girdle; but on opening
+it, I perceived that it was filled with pebbles, and not a single sequin
+was left. I had no doubt that I had been robbed by the soldiers with
+whom I had drunk sherbet, and I am certain that some of them must have
+been awake the night I counted my money; otherwise, as I had never
+trusted the secret of my riches to any one, they could not have suspected
+me of possessing any property; for ever since I kept company with them I
+had appeared to be in great indigence.
+
+"I applied in vain to the superior officers for redress: the soldiers
+protested they were innocent; no positive proof appeared against them,
+and I gained nothing by my complaint but ridicule and ill-will. I called
+myself, in the first transport of my grief, by that name which, since my
+arrival in Egypt, I had avoided to pronounce: I called myself Murad the
+Unlucky. The name and the story ran through the camp, and I was
+accosted, afterwards, very frequently, by this appellation. Some,
+indeed, varied their wit by calling me Murad with the purse of pebbles.
+
+"All that I had yet suffered is nothing compared to my succeeding
+misfortunes.
+
+"It was the custom at this time, in the Turkish camp, for the soldiers to
+amuse themselves with firing at a mark. The superior officers
+remonstrated against this dangerous practice, but ineffectually.
+Sometimes a party of soldiers would stop firing for a few minutes, after
+a message was brought them from their commanders, and then they would
+begin again, in defiance of all orders. Such was the want of discipline
+in our army, that this disobedience went unpunished. In the meantime,
+the frequency of the danger made most men totally regardless of it. I
+have seen tents pierced with bullets, in which parties were quietly
+seated smoking their pipes, whilst those without were preparing to take
+fresh aim at the red flag on the top.
+
+"This apathy proceeded, in some, from unconquerable indolence of body; in
+others, from the intoxication produced by the fumes of tobacco and of
+opium; but in most of my brother Turks it arose from the confidence which
+the belief in predestination inspired. When a bullet killed one of their
+companions, they only observed, scarcely taking the pipes from their
+mouths, 'Our hour is not yet come: it is not the will of Mahomet that we
+should fall.'
+
+"I own that this rash security appeared to me, at first, surprising, but
+it soon ceased to strike me with wonder, and it even tended to confirm my
+favourite opinion, that some were born to good and some to evil fortune.
+I became almost as careless as my companions, from following the same
+course of reasoning. 'It is not,' thought I, 'in the power of human
+prudence to avert the stroke of destiny. I shall perhaps die to-morrow;
+let me therefore enjoy to-day.'
+
+"I now made it my study every day to procure as much amusement as
+possible. My poverty, as you will imagine, restricted me from indulgence
+and excess, but I soon found means to spend what did not actually belong
+to me. There were certain Jews who were followers of the camp, and who,
+calculating on the probability of victory for our troops, advanced money
+to the soldiers, for which they engaged to pay these usurers exorbitant
+interest. The Jew to whom I applied traded with me also, upon the belief
+that my brother Saladin, with whose character and circumstances he was
+acquainted, would pay my debts if I should fall. With the money I raised
+from the Jew I continually bought coffee and opium, of which I grew
+immoderately fond. In the delirium it created I forgot all my
+misfortunes, all fear of the future.
+
+"One day, when I had raised my spirits by an unusual quantity of opium, I
+was strolling through the camp, sometimes singing, sometimes dancing,
+like a madman, and repeating that I was not now Murad the Unlucky. Whilst
+these words were on my lips, a friendly spectator, who was in possession
+of his sober senses, caught me by the arm, and attempted to drag me from
+the place where I was exposing myself. 'Do you not see,' said he, 'those
+soldiers, who are firing at a mark? I saw one of them, just now,
+deliberately taking aim at your turban; and observe, he is now reloading
+his piece.' My ill luck prevailed even at this instant--the only instant
+in my life when I defied its power. I struggled with my adviser,
+repeating, 'I am not the wretch you take me for; I am not Murad the
+Unlucky.' He fled from the danger himself; I remained, and in a few
+seconds afterwards a ball reached me, and I fell senseless on the sand.
+
+"The ball was cut out of my body by an awkward surgeon, who gave me ten
+times more pain than was necessary. He was particularly hurried at this
+time, because the army had just received orders to march in a few hours,
+and all was confusion in the camp. My wound was excessively painful, and
+the fear of being left behind with those who were deemed incurable added
+to my torments. Perhaps, if I had kept myself quiet, I might have
+escaped some of the evils I afterwards endured; but, as I have repeatedly
+told you, gentlemen, it was my ill fortune never to be able to judge what
+was best to be done till the time for prudence was past.
+
+"During the day, when my fever was at the height, and when my orders were
+to keep my bed, contrary to my natural habits of indolence, I rose a
+hundred times, and went out of my tent in the very heat of the day, to
+satisfy my curiosity as to the number of the tents which had not been
+struck, and of the soldiers who had not yet marched. The orders to march
+were tardily obeyed, and many hours elapsed before our encampment was
+raised. Had I submitted to my surgeon's orders, I might have been in a
+state to accompany the most dilatory of the stragglers; I could have
+borne, perhaps, the slow motion of a litter, on which some of the sick
+were transported; but in the evening, when the surgeon came to dress my
+wounds, he found me in such a situation that it was scarcely possible to
+remove me.
+
+"He desired a party of soldiers, who were left to bring up the rear, to
+call for me the next morning. They did so; but they wanted to put me
+upon the mule which I recollected, by a white streak on its back, to be
+the cursed animal that had kicked me whilst I was looking for the ring. I
+could not be prevailed upon to go upon this unlucky animal. I tried to
+persuade the soldiers to carry me, and they took me a little way; but,
+soon growing weary of their burden, they laid me down on the sand,
+pretending that they were going to fill a skin with water at a spring
+they had discovered, and bade me lie still, and wait for their return.
+
+"I waited and waited, longing for the water to moisten my parched lips;
+but no water came--no soldiers returned; and there I lay, for several
+hours, expecting every moment to breathe my last. I made no effort to
+move, for I was now convinced my hour was come, and that it was the will
+of Mahomet that I should perish in this miserable manner, and lie
+unburied like a dog: 'a death,' thought I, 'worthy of Murad the Unlucky.'
+
+"My forebodings were not this time just; a detachment of English soldiers
+passed near the place where I lay: my groans were heard by them, and they
+humanely came to my assistance. They carried me with them, dressed my
+wound, and treated me with the utmost tenderness. Christians though they
+were, I must acknowledge that I had reason to love them better than any
+of the followers of Mahomet, my good brother only excepted.
+
+"Under their care I recovered; but scarcely had I regained my strength
+before I fell into new disasters. It was hot weather, and my thirst was
+excessive. I went out with a party, in hopes of finding a spring of
+water. The English soldiers began to dig for a well, in a place pointed
+out to them by one of their men of science. I was not inclined to such
+hard labour, but preferred sauntering on in search of a spring. I saw at
+a distance something that looked like a pool of water; and I pointed it
+out to my companions. Their man of science warned me by his interpreter
+not to trust to this deceitful appearance; for that such were common in
+this country, and that, when I came close to the spot, I should find no
+water there. He added, that it was at a greater distance than I
+imagined; and that I should, in all probability, be lost in the desert if
+I attempted to follow this phantom.
+
+"I was so unfortunate as not to attend to his advice: I set out in
+pursuit of this accursed delusion, which assuredly was the work of evil
+spirits, who clouded my reason, and allured me into their dominion. I
+went on, hour after hour, in expectation continually of reaching the
+object of my wishes; but it fled faster than I pursued, and I discovered
+at last that the Englishman, who had doubtless gained his information
+from the people of the country, was right; and that the shining
+appearance which I had taken for water was a mere deception.
+
+"I was now exhausted with fatigue: I looked back in vain after the
+companions I had left; I could see neither men, animals, nor any trace of
+vegetation in the sandy desert. I had no resource but, weary as I was,
+to measure back my footsteps, which were imprinted in the sand.
+
+"I slowly and sorrowfully traced them as my guides in this unknown land.
+Instead of yielding to my indolent inclinations, I ought, however, to
+have made the best of my way back, before the evening breeze sprang up. I
+felt the breeze rising, and, unconscious of my danger, I rejoiced, and
+opened my bosom to meet it; but what was my dismay when I saw that the
+wind swept before it all trace of my footsteps in the sand. I knew not
+which way to proceed; I was struck with despair, tore my garments, threw
+off my turban, and cried aloud; but neither human voice nor echo answered
+me. The silence was dreadful. I had tasted no food for many hours, and
+I now became sick and faint. I recollected that I had put a supply of
+opium into the folds of my turban; but, alas! when I took my turban up, I
+found that the opium had fallen out. I searched for it in vain on the
+sand, where I had thrown the turban.
+
+"I stretched myself out upon the ground, and yielded without further
+struggle to my evil destiny. What I suffered from thirst, hunger, and
+heat cannot be described. At last I fell into a sort of trance, during
+which images of various kinds seemed to flit before my eyes. How long I
+remained in this state I know not: but I remember that I was brought to
+my senses by a loud shout, which came from persons belonging to a caravan
+returning from Mecca. This was a shout of joy for their safe arrival at
+a certain spring, well known to them in this part of the desert.
+
+"The spring was not a hundred yards from the spot where I lay; yet, such
+had been the fate of Murad the Unlucky, that he missed the reality,
+whilst he had been hours in pursuit of the phantom. Feeble and
+spiritless as I was, I sent forth as loud a cry as I could, in hopes of
+obtaining assistance; and I endeavoured to crawl to the place from which
+the voices appeared to come. The caravan rested for a considerable time
+whilst the slaves filled the skins with water, and whilst the camels took
+in their supply. I worked myself on towards them; yet, notwithstanding
+my efforts, I was persuaded that, according to my usual ill-fortune, I
+should never be able to make them hear my voice. I saw them mount their
+camels! I took off my turban, unrolled it, and waved it in the air. My
+signal was seen! The caravan came towards me!
+
+"I had scarcely strength to speak; a slave gave me some water, and, after
+I had drunk, I explained to them who I was, and how I came into this
+situation.
+
+"Whilst I was speaking, one of the travellers observed the purse which
+hung to my girdle: it was the same the merchant for whom I recovered the
+ring had given to me; I had carefully preserved it, because the initials
+of my benefactor's name and a passage from the Koran were worked upon it.
+When he give it to me, he said that perhaps we should meet again in some
+other part of the world, and he should recognise me by this token. The
+person who now took notice of the purse was his brother; and when I
+related to him how I had obtained it, he had the goodness to take me
+under his protection. He was a merchant, who was now going with the
+caravan to Grand Cairo: he offered to take me with him, and I willingly
+accepted the proposal, promising to serve him as faithfully as any of his
+slaves. The caravan proceeded, and I was carried with it."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+"The merchant, who was become my master, treated me with great kindness;
+but on hearing me relate the whole series of my unfortunate adventures,
+he exacted a promise from me that I would do nothing without first
+consulting him. 'Since you are so unlucky, Murad,' said he, 'that you
+always choose for the worst when you choose for yourself, you should
+trust entirely to the judgment of a wiser or a more fortunate friend.'
+
+"I fared well in the service of this merchant, who was a man of a mild
+disposition, and who was so rich that he could afford to be generous to
+all his dependants. It was my business to see his camels loaded and
+unloaded at proper places, to count his bales of merchandise, and to take
+care that they were not mixed with those of his companions. This I
+carefully did till the day we arrived at Alexandria; when, unluckily, I
+neglected to count the bales, taking it for granted that they were all
+right, as I had found them so the preceding day. However, when we were
+to go on board the vessel that was to take us to Cairo, I perceived that
+three bales of cotton were missing.
+
+"I ran to inform my master, who, though a good deal provoked at my
+negligence, did not reproach me as I deserved. The public crier was
+immediately sent round the city, to offer a reward for the recovery of
+the merchandise; and it was restored by one of the merchants' slaves with
+whom we had travelled. The vessel was now under sail; my master and I
+and the bales of cotton were obliged to follow in a boat; and when we
+were taken on board, the captain declared he was so loaded, that he could
+not tell where to stow the bales of cotton. After much difficulty, he
+consented to let them remain upon deck; and I promised my master to watch
+them night and day.
+
+"We had a prosperous voyage, and were actually in sight of shore, which
+the captain said we could not fail to reach early the next morning. I
+stayed, as usual, this night upon deck, and solaced myself by smoking my
+pipe. Ever since I had indulged in this practice at the camp at El
+Arish, I could not exist without opium and tobacco. I suppose that my
+reason was this night a little clouded with the dose I took; but towards
+midnight I was sobered by terror. I started up from the deck on which I
+had stretched myself; my turban was in flames--the bale of cotton on
+which I had rested was all on fire. I awakened two sailors, who were
+fast asleep on deck. The consternation became general, and the confusion
+increased the danger. The captain and my master were the most active,
+and suffered the most, in extinguishing the flames--my master was
+terribly scorched.
+
+"For my part, I was not suffered to do anything; the captain ordered that
+I should be bound to the mast; and when at last the flames were
+extinguished, the passengers, with one accord, besought him to keep me
+bound hand and foot, lest I should be the cause of some new disaster. All
+that had happened was, indeed, occasioned by my ill-luck. I had laid my
+pipe down, when I was falling asleep, upon the bale of cotton that was
+beside me. The fire from my pipe fell out and set the cotton in flames.
+Such was the mixture of rage and terror with which I had inspired the
+whole crew, that I am sure they would have set me ashore on a desert
+island rather than have had me on board for a week longer. Even my
+humane master, I could perceive, was secretly impatient to get rid of
+Murad the Unlucky and his evil fortune.
+
+"You may believe that I was heartily glad when we landed, and when I was
+unbound. My master put a purse containing fifty sequins into my hand,
+and bade me farewell. 'Use this money prudently, Murad, if you can,'
+said he, 'and perhaps your fortune may change.' Of this I had little
+hopes, but determined to lay out my money as prudently as possible.
+
+"As I was walking through the streets of Grand Cairo, considering how I
+should lay out my fifty sequins to the greatest advantage, I was stopped
+by one who called me by my name, and asked me if I could pretend to have
+forgotten his face. I looked steadily at him, and recollected to my
+sorrow that he was the Jew Rachub, from whom I had borrowed certain sums
+of money at the camp at El Arish. What brought him to Grand Cairo,
+except it was my evil destiny, I cannot tell. He would not quit me; he
+would take no excuses; he said he knew that I had deserted twice, once
+from the Turkish and once from the English army; that I was not entitled
+to any pay; and that he could not imagine it possible that my brother
+Saladin would own me or pay my debts.
+
+"I replied, for I was vexed by the insolence of this Jewish dog, that I
+was not, as he imagined, a beggar: that I had the means of paying him my
+just debt, but that I hoped he would not extort from me all that
+exorbitant interest which none but a Jew could exact. He smiled, and
+answered that if a Turk loved opium better than money this was no fault
+of his; that he had supplied me with what I loved best in the world, and
+that I ought not to complain when he expected I should return the favour.
+
+"I will not weary you, gentlemen, with all the arguments that passed
+between me and Rachub. At last we compromised matters; he would take
+nothing less than the whole debt: but he let me have at a very cheap rate
+a chest of second-hand clothes, by which he assured me I might make my
+fortune. He brought them to Grand Cairo, he said, for the purpose of
+selling them to slave merchants, who, at this time of the year, were in
+want of them to supply their slaves; but he was in haste to get home to
+his wife and family at Constantinople, and, therefore, he was willing to
+make over to a friend the profits of this speculation. I should have
+distrusted Rachub's professions of friendship, and especially of
+disinterestedness, but he took me with him to the khan where his goods
+were, and unlocked the chest of clothes to show them to me. They were of
+the richest and finest materials, and had been but little worn. I could
+not doubt the evidence of my senses; the bargain was concluded, and the
+Jew sent porters to my inn with the chest.
+
+"The next day I repaired to the public market-place; and, when my
+business was known, I had choice of customers before night--my chest was
+empty, and my purse was full. The profit I made upon the sale of these
+clothes was so considerable, that I could not help feeling astonishment
+at Rachub's having brought himself so readily to relinquish them.
+
+"A few days after I had disposed of the contents of my chest, a Damascene
+merchant, who had bought two suits of apparel from me, told me, with a
+very melancholy face, that both the female slaves who had put on these
+clothes were sick. I could not conceive that the clothes were the cause
+of their sickness; but soon afterwards, as I was crossing the market, I
+was attacked by at least a dozen merchants, who made similar complaints.
+They insisted upon knowing how I came by the garments, and demanded
+whether I had worn any of them myself. This day I had, for the first
+time, indulged myself with wearing a pair of yellow slippers, the only
+finery I had reserved for myself out of all the tempting goods. Convinced
+by my wearing these slippers that I could have had no insidious designs,
+since I shared the danger, whatever it might be, the merchants were a
+little pacified; but what was my terror and remorse the next day, when
+one of them came to inform me that plague-boils had broken out under the
+arms of all the slaves who had worn this pestilential apparel! On
+looking carefully into the chest, we found the word 'Smyrna' written, and
+half effaced, upon the lid. Now, the plague had for some time raged at
+Smyrna; and, as the merchants suspected, these clothes had certainly
+belonged to persons who had died of that distemper. This was the reason
+why the Jew was willing to sell them to me so cheap; and it was for this
+reason that he would not stay at Grand Cairo himself to reap the profits
+of his speculation. Indeed, if I had paid attention to it at the proper
+time, a slight circumstance might have revealed the truth to me. Whilst
+I was bargaining with the Jew, before he opened the chest, he swallowed a
+large dram of brandy, and stuffed his nostrils with sponge dipped in
+vinegar; he told me, he did to prevent his perceiving the smell of musk,
+which always threw him into convulsions.
+
+"The horror I felt when I discovered that I had spread the infection of
+the plague, and that I had probably caught it myself, overpowered my
+senses--a cold dew spread over all my limbs, and I fell upon the lid of
+the fatal chest in a swoon. It is said that fear disposes people to take
+the infection; however this may be, I sickened that evening, and soon was
+in a raging fever. It was worse for me whenever the delirium left me,
+and I could reflect upon the miseries my ill-fortune had occasioned. In
+my first lucid interval I looked round, and saw that I had been removed
+from the khan to a wretched hut. An old woman, who was smoking her pipe
+in the farthest corner of my room, informed me that I had been sent out
+of the town of Grand Cairo by order of the cadi, to whom the merchants
+had made their complaint. The fatal chest was burnt, and the house in
+which I had lodged razed to the ground. 'And if it had not been for me,'
+continued the old woman, 'you would have been dead probably at this
+instant; but I have made a vow to our great Prophet that I would never
+neglect an opportunity of doing a good action; therefore, when you were
+deserted by all the world, I took care of you. Here, too, is your purse,
+which I saved from the rabble--and, what is more difficult, from the
+officers of justice. I will account to you for every part that I have
+expended; and will, moreover, tell you the reason of my making such an
+extraordinary vow.'
+
+"As I believed that this benevolent old woman took great pleasure in
+talking, I made an inclination of my head to thank her for her promised
+history, and she proceeded; but I must confess I did not listen with all
+the attention her narrative doubtless deserved. Even curiosity, the
+strongest passion of us Turks, was dead within me. I have no
+recollection of the old woman's story. It is as much as I can do to
+finish my own.
+
+"The weather became excessively hot; it was affirmed by some of the
+physicians that this heat would prove fatal to their patients; but,
+contrary to the prognostics of the physicians, it stopped the progress of
+the plague. I recovered, and found my purse much lightened by my
+illness. I divided the remainder of my money with my humane nurse, and
+sent her out into the city to inquire how matters were going on.
+
+"She brought me word that the fury of the plague had much abated, but
+that she had met several funerals, and that she had heard many of the
+merchants cursing the folly of Murad the Unlucky, who, as they said, had
+brought all this calamity upon the inhabitants of Cairo. Even fools,
+they say, learn by experience. I took care to burn the bed on which I
+had lain and the clothes I had worn; I concealed my real name, which I
+knew would inspire detestation, and gained admittance, with a crowd of
+other poor wretches, into a lazaretto, where I performed quarantine and
+offered up prayers daily for the sick.
+
+"When I thought it was impossible I could spread the infection, I took my
+passage home. I was eager to get away from Grand Cairo, where I knew I
+was an object of execration. I had a strange fancy haunting my mind; I
+imagined that all my misfortunes, since I left Constantinople, had arisen
+from my neglect of the talisman upon the beautiful china vase. I dreamed
+three times, when I was recovering from the plague, that a genius
+appeared to me, and said, in a reproachful tone, 'Murad, where is the
+vase that was entrusted to thy care?'
+
+"This dream operated strongly upon my imagination. As soon as we arrived
+at Constantinople, which we did, to my great surprise, without meeting
+with any untoward accidents, I went in search of my brother Saladin to
+inquire for my vase. He no longer lived in the house in which I left
+him, and I began to be apprehensive that he was dead, but a porter,
+hearing my inquiries, exclaimed, 'Who is there in Constantinople that is
+ignorant of the dwelling of Saladin the Lucky? Come with me, and I will
+show it to you.'
+
+"The mansion to which he conducted me looked so magnificent that I was
+almost afraid to enter lest there should be some mistake. But whilst I
+was hesitating the doors opened, and I heard my brother Saladin's voice.
+He saw me almost at the same instant that I fixed my eyes upon him, and
+immediately sprang forward to embrace me. He was the same good brother
+as ever, and I rejoiced in his prosperity with all my heart. 'Brother
+Saladin,' said I, 'can you now doubt that some men are born to be
+fortunate and others to be unfortunate? How often you used to dispute
+this point with me!'
+
+"'Let us not dispute it now in the public street,' said he, smiling; 'but
+come in and refresh yourself, and we will consider the question
+afterwards at leisure.'
+
+"'No, my dear brother,' said I, drawing back, 'you are too good: Murad
+the Unlucky shall not enter your house, lest he should draw down
+misfortunes upon you and yours. I come only to ask for my vase.'
+
+"'It is safe,' cried he; 'come in, and you shall see it: but I will not
+give it up till I have you in my house. I have none of these
+superstitious fears: pardon me the expression, but I have none of these
+superstitious fears.'
+
+"I yielded, entered his house, and was astonished at all I saw. My
+brother did not triumph in his prosperity; but, on the contrary, seemed
+intent only upon making me forget my misfortunes: he listened to the
+account of them with kindness, and obliged me by the recital of his
+history: which was, I must acknowledge, far less wonderful than my own.
+He seemed, by his own account, to have grown rich in the common course of
+things; or rather, by his own prudence. I allowed for his prejudices,
+and, unwilling to dispute farther with him, said, 'You must remain of
+your opinion, brother, and I of mine; you are Saladin the Lucky, and I
+Murad the Unlucky; and so we shall remain to the end of our lives.'
+
+"I had not been in his house four days when an accident happened, which
+showed how much I was in the right. The favourite of the sultan, to whom
+he had formerly sold his china vase, though her charms were now somewhat
+faded by time, still retained her power and her taste for magnificence.
+She commissioned my brother to bespeak for her, at Venice, the most
+splendid looking-glass that money could purchase. The mirror, after many
+delays and disappointments, at length arrived at my brother's house. He
+unpacked it, and sent to let the lady know it was in perfect safety. It
+was late in the evening, and she ordered it should remain where it was
+that night, and that it should be brought to the seraglio the next
+morning. It stood in a sort of ante-chamber to the room in which I
+slept; and with it were left some packages, containing glass chandeliers
+for an unfinished saloon in my brother's house. Saladin charged all his
+domestics to be vigilant this night, because he had money to a great
+amount by him, and there had been frequent robberies in our
+neighbourhood. Hearing these orders, I resolved to be in readiness at a
+moment's warning. I laid my scimitar beside me upon a cushion, and left
+my door half open, that I might hear the slightest noise in the
+ante-chamber or the great staircase. About midnight I was suddenly
+awakened by a noise in the ante-chamber. I started up, seized my
+scimitar, and the instant I got to the door, saw, by the light of the
+lamp which was burning in the room, a man standing opposite to me, with a
+drawn sword in his hand. I rushed forward, demanding what he wanted, and
+received no answer; but seeing him aim at me with his scimitar, I gave
+him, as I thought, a deadly blow. At this instant I heard a great crash;
+and the fragments of the looking-glass, which I had shivered, fell at my
+feet. At the same moment something black brushed by my shoulder: I
+pursued it, stumbled over the packages of glass, and rolled over them
+down the stairs.
+
+"My brother came out of his room to inquire the cause of all this
+disturbance; and when he saw the fine mirror broken, and me lying amongst
+the glass chandeliers at the bottom of the stairs, he could not forbear
+exclaiming, 'Well, brother! you are indeed Murad the Unlucky.'
+
+"When the first emotion was over, he could not, however, forbear laughing
+at my situation. With a degree of goodness, which made me a thousand
+times more sorry for the accident, he came downstairs to help me up, gave
+me his hand, and said, 'Forgive me if I was angry with you at first. I
+am sure you did not mean to do me any injury; but tell me how all this
+has happened?'
+
+"Whilst Saladin was speaking, I heard the same kind of noise which had
+alarmed me in the ante-chamber; but, on looking back, I saw only a black
+pigeon, which flew swiftly by me, unconscious of the mischief he had
+occasioned. This pigeon I had unluckily brought into the house the
+preceding day; and had been feeding and trying to tame it for my young
+nephews. I little thought it would be the cause of such disasters. My
+brother, though he endeavoured to conceal his anxiety from me, was much
+disturbed at the idea of meeting the favourite's displeasure, who would
+certainly be grievously disappointed by the loss of her splendid looking-
+glass. I saw that I should inevitably be his ruin if I continued in his
+house; and no persuasions could prevail upon me to prolong my stay. My
+generous brother, seeing me determined to go, said to me, 'A factor, whom
+I have employed for some years to sell merchandise for me, died a few
+days ago. Will you take his place? I am rich enough to bear any little
+mistakes you may fall into from ignorance of business; and you will have
+a partner who is able and willing to assist you.'
+
+"I was touched to the heart by this kindness, especially at such a time
+as this. He sent one of his slaves with me to the shop in which you now
+see me, gentlemen. The slave, by my brother's directions, brought with
+us my china vase, and delivered it safely to me, with this message: 'The
+scarlet dye that was found in this vase, and in its fellow, was the first
+cause of Saladin's making the fortune he now enjoys: he therefore does no
+more than justice in sharing that fortune with his brother Murad.'
+
+"I was now placed in as advantageous a situation as possible; but my mind
+was ill at ease when I reflected that the broken mirror might be my
+brother's ruin. The lady by whom it had been bespoken was, I well knew,
+of a violent temper; and this disappointment was sufficient to provoke
+her to vengeance. My brother sent me word this morning, however, that
+though her displeasure was excessive, it was in my power to prevent any
+ill consequences that might ensue. 'In my power!' I exclaimed; 'then,
+indeed, I am happy! Tell my brother there is nothing I will not do to
+show him my gratitude and to save him from the consequences of my folly.'
+
+"The slave who was sent by my brother seemed unwilling to name what was
+required of me, saying that his master was afraid I should not like to
+grant the request. I urged him to speak freely, and he then told me the
+favourite declared nothing would make her amends for the loss of the
+mirror but the fellow-vase to that which she had bought from Saladin. It
+was impossible for me to hesitate; gratitude for my brother's generous
+kindness overcame my superstitious obstinacy, and I sent him word I would
+carry the vase to him myself.
+
+"I took it down this evening from the shelf on which it stood; it was
+covered with dust, and I washed it, but, unluckily, in endeavouring to
+clean the inside from the remains of the scarlet powder, I poured hot
+water into it, and immediately I heard a simmering noise, and my vase, in
+a few instants, burst asunder with a loud explosion. These fragments,
+alas! are all that remain. The measure of my misfortunes is now
+completed! Can you wonder, gentlemen, that I bewail my evil destiny? Am
+I not justly called Murad the Unlucky? Here end all my hopes in this
+world! Better would it have been if I had died long ago! Better that I
+had never been born! Nothing I ever have done or attempted has
+prospered. Murad the Unlucky is my name, and ill-fate has marked me for
+her own."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+The lamentations of Murad were interrupted by the entrance of Saladin.
+Having waited in vain for some hours, he now came to see if any disaster
+had happened to his brother Murad. He was surprised at the sight of the
+two pretended merchants, and could not refrain from exclamations on
+beholding the broken vase. However, with his usual equanimity and good-
+nature, he began to console Murad; and, taking up the fragments, examined
+them carefully, one by one joined them together again, found that none of
+the edges of the china were damaged, and declared he could have it mended
+so as to look as well as ever.
+
+Murad recovered his spirits upon this. "Brother," said he, "I comfort
+myself for being Murad the Unlucky when I reflect that you are Saladin
+the Lucky. See, gentlemen," continued he, turning to the pretended
+merchants, "scarcely has this most fortunate of men been five minutes in
+company before he gives a happy turn to affairs. His presence inspires
+joy: I observe your countenances, which had been saddened by my dismal
+history, have brightened up since he has made his appearance. Brother, I
+wish you would make these gentlemen some amends for the time they have
+wasted in listening to my catalogue of misfortunes by relating your
+history, which, I am sure, they will find rather more exhilarating."
+
+Saladin consented, on condition that the strangers would accompany him
+home and partake of a social banquet. They at first repeated the former
+excuse of their being obliged to return to their inn; but at length the
+sultan's curiosity prevailed, and he and his vizier went home with
+Saladin the Lucky, who, after supper, related his history in the
+following manner:--
+
+"My being called Saladin the Lucky first inspired me with confidence in
+myself; though I own that I cannot remember any extraordinary instances
+of good luck in my childhood. An old nurse of my mother's, indeed,
+repeated to me twenty times a day that nothing I undertook could fail to
+succeed, because I was Saladin the Lucky. I became presumptuous and
+rash; and my nurse's prognostics might have effectually prevented their
+accomplishment had I not, when I was about fifteen, been roused to
+reflection during a long confinement, which was the consequence of my
+youthful conceit and imprudence.
+
+"At this time there was at the Porte a Frenchman, an ingenious engineer,
+who was employed and favoured by the sultan, to the great astonishment of
+many of my prejudiced countrymen. On the grand seignior's birthday he
+exhibited some extraordinarily fine fireworks; and I, with numbers of the
+inhabitants of Constantinople, crowded to see them. I happened to stand
+near the place where the Frenchman was stationed; the crowd pressed upon
+him, and I amongst the rest; he begged we would, for our own sakes, keep
+at a greater distance, and warned us that we might be much hurt by the
+combustibles which he was using. I, relying upon my good fortune,
+disregarded all these cautions; and the consequence was that, as I
+touched some of the materials prepared for the fireworks, they exploded,
+dashed me upon the ground with great violence, and I was terribly burnt.
+
+"This accident, gentlemen, I consider as one of the most fortunate
+circumstances of my life; for it checked and corrected the presumption of
+my temper. During the time I was confined to my bed the French gentleman
+came frequently to see me. He was a very sensible man; and the
+conversations he had with me enlarged my mind and cured me of many
+foolish prejudices, especially of that which I had been taught to
+entertain concerning the predominance of what is called luck or fortune
+in human affairs. 'Though you are called Saladin the Lucky,' said he,
+'you find that your neglect of prudence has nearly brought you to the
+grave even in the bloom of youth. Take my advice, and henceforward trust
+more to prudence than to fortune. Let the multitude, if they will, call
+you Saladin the Lucky; but call yourself, and make yourself, Saladin the
+Prudent.'
+
+"These words left an indelible impression on my mind, and gave a new turn
+to my thoughts and character. My brother, Murad, has doubtless told you
+our difference of opinion on the subject of predestination produced
+between us frequent arguments; but we could never convince one another,
+and we each have acted, through life, in consequence of our different
+beliefs. To this I attribute my success and his misfortunes.
+
+"The first rise of my fortune, as you have probably heard from Murad, was
+owing to the scarlet dye, which I brought to perfection with infinite
+difficulty. The powder, it is true, was accidentally found by me in our
+china vases; but there it might have remained to this instant, useless,
+if I had not taken the pains to make it useful. I grant that we can only
+partially foresee and command events; yet on the use we make of our own
+powers, I think, depends our destiny. But, gentlemen, you would rather
+hear my adventures, perhaps, than my reflections; and I am truly
+concerned, for your sakes, that I have no wonderful events to relate. I
+am sorry I cannot tell you of my having been lost in a sandy desert. I
+have never had the plague, nor even been shipwrecked: I have been all my
+life an inhabitant of Constantinople, and have passed my time in a very
+quiet and uniform manner.
+
+"The money I received from the sultan's favourite for my china vase, as
+my brother may have told you, enabled me to trade on a more extensive
+scale. I went on steadily with my business, and made it my whole study
+to please my employers by all fair and honourable means. This industry
+and civility succeeded beyond my expectations: in a few years I was rich
+for a man in my way of business.
+
+"I will not proceed to trouble you with the journal of a petty merchant's
+life; I pass on to the incident which made a considerable change in my
+affairs.
+
+"A terrible fire broke out near the walls of the grand seignior's
+seraglio. As you are strangers, gentlemen, you may not have heard of
+this event, though it produced so great a sensation in Constantinople.
+The vizier's superb palace was utterly consumed, and the melted lead
+poured down from the roof of the mosque of St. Sophia. Various were the
+opinions formed by my neighbours respecting the cause of the
+conflagration. Some supposed it to be a punishment for the sultan's
+having neglected one Friday to appear at the mosque of St. Sophia; others
+considered it as a warning sent by Mahomet to dissuade the Porte from
+persisting in a war in which we were just engaged. The generality,
+however, of the coffee-house politicians contented themselves with
+observing that it was the will of Mahomet that the palace should be
+consumed. Satisfied by this supposition, they took no precaution to
+prevent similar accidents in their own houses. Never were fires so
+common in the city as at this period; scarcely a night passed without our
+being wakened by the cry of fire.
+
+"These frequent fires were rendered still more dreadful by villains, who
+were continually on the watch to increase the confusion by which they
+profited, and to pillage the houses of the sufferers. It was discovered
+that these incendiaries frequently skulked, towards evening, in the
+neighbourhood of the bezestein, where the richest merchants store their
+goods. Some of these wretches were detected in throwing _coundaks_, or
+matches, into the windows; and if these combustibles remained a
+sufficient time, they could not fail to set the house on fire.
+
+"Notwithstanding all these circumstances, many even of those who had
+property to preserve continued to repeat, 'It is the will of Mahomet,'
+and consequently to neglect all means of preservation. I, on the
+contrary, recollecting the lesson I had learned from the sensible
+foreigner, neither suffered my spirits to sink with superstitious fears
+of ill-luck, nor did I trust presumptuously to my good fortune. I took
+every possible means to secure myself. I never went to bed without
+having seen that all the lights and fires in the house were extinguished,
+and that I had a supply of water in the cistern. I had likewise learned
+from my Frenchman that wet mortar was the most effectual thing for
+stopping the progress of flames. I, therefore, had a quantity of mortar
+made up in one of my outhouses, which I could use at a moment's warning.
+These precautions were all useful to me. My own house, indeed, was never
+actually on fire; but the houses of my next-door neighbours were no less
+than five times in flames in the course of one winter. By my exertions,
+or rather by my precautions, they suffered but little damage, and all my
+neighbours looked upon me as their deliverer and friend; they loaded me
+with presents, and offered more, indeed, than I would accept. All
+repeated that I was Saladin the Lucky. This compliment I disclaimed,
+feeling more ambitious of being called Saladin the Prudent. It is thus
+that what we call modesty is often only a more refined species of pride.
+But to proceed with my story.
+
+"One night I had been later than usual at supper at a friend's house;
+none but the watch were in the streets, and even they, I believe, were
+asleep.
+
+"As I passed one of the conduits which convey water to the city, I heard
+a trickling noise; and, upon examination, I found that the cock of the
+water-spout was half turned, so that the water was running out. I turned
+it back to its proper place, thought it had been left unturned by
+accident, and walked on; but I had not proceeded far before I came to
+another spout, and another, which were in the same condition. I was
+convinced that this could not be the effect merely of accident, and
+suspected that some ill-intentioned persons designed to let out and waste
+the water of the city, that there might be none to extinguish any fire
+that should break out in the course of the night.
+
+"I stood still for a few moments, to consider how it would be most
+prudent to act. It would be impossible for me to run to all parts of the
+city, that I might stop the pipes that were running to waste. I first
+thought of wakening the watch and the firemen, who were most of them
+slumbering at their stations; but I reflected that they were perhaps not
+to be trusted, and that they were in a confederacy with the incendiaries,
+otherwise they would certainly before this hour have observed and stopped
+the running of the sewers in their neighbourhood. I determined to waken
+a rich merchant, called Damat Zade, who lived near me, and who had a
+number of slaves whom he could send to different parts of the city, to
+prevent mischief and give notice to the inhabitants of their danger.
+
+"He was a very sensible, active man, and one that could easily be
+wakened; he was not like some Turks, an hour in recovering their
+lethargic senses. He was quick in decision and action; and his slaves
+resembled their master. He despatched a messenger immediately to the
+grand vizier, that the sultan's safety might be secured, and sent others
+to the magistrates in each quarter of Constantinople. The large drums in
+the janissary aga's tower beat to rouse the inhabitants; and scarcely had
+they been heard to beat half an hour before the fire broke out in the
+lower apartments of Damat Zade's house, owing to a _coundak_ which had
+been left behind one of the doors.
+
+"The wretches who had prepared the mischief came to enjoy it, and to
+pillage; but they were disappointed. Astonished to find themselves taken
+into custody, they could not comprehend how their designs had been
+frustrated. By timely exertions, the fire in my friend's house was
+extinguished; and though fires broke out during the night in many parts
+of the city, but little damage was sustained, because there was time for
+precautions, and, by the stopping of the spouts, sufficient water was
+preserved. People were awakened and warned of the danger, and they
+consequently escaped unhurt.
+
+"The next day, as soon as I made my appearance at the bezestein, the
+merchants crowded round, called me their benefactor, and the preserver of
+their lives and fortunes. Damat Zade, the merchant whom I had awakened
+the preceding night, presented to me a heavy purse of gold, and put upon
+my finger a diamond ring of considerable value; each of the merchants
+followed his example in making me rich presents; the magistrates also
+sent me tokens of their approbation; and the grand vizier sent me a
+diamond of the first water, with a line written by his own hand, 'To the
+man who has saved Constantinople.' Excuse me, gentlemen, for the vanity
+I seem to show in mentioning these circumstances. You desired to hear my
+history, and I cannot, therefore, omit the principal circumstance of my
+life. In the course of four-and-twenty hours I found myself raised, by
+the munificent gratitude of the inhabitants of this city, to a state of
+affluence far beyond what I had ever dreamed of attaining.
+
+"I now took a house suited to my circumstances, and bought a few slaves.
+As I was carrying my slaves home, I was met by a Jew, who stopped me,
+saying, in his language, 'My lord, I see, has been purchasing slaves; I
+could clothe them cheaply.' There was something mysterious in the manner
+of this Jew, and I did not like his countenance; but I considered that I
+ought not to be governed by caprice in my dealings, and that, if this man
+could really clothe my slaves more cheaply than another, I ought not to
+neglect his offer merely because I took a dislike to the cut of his
+beard, the turn of his eye, or the tone of his voice. I, therefore, bade
+the Jew follow me home, saying that I would consider of his proposal.
+
+"When we came to talk over the matter, I was surprised to find him so
+reasonable in his demands. On one point, indeed, he appeared unwilling
+to comply. I required not only to see the clothes I was offered, but
+also to know how they came into his possession. On this subject he
+equivocated; I, therefore, suspected there must be something wrong. I
+reflected what it could be, and judged that the goods had been stolen, or
+that they had been the apparel of persons who had died of some contagious
+distemper. The Jew showed me a chest, from which he said I might choose
+whatever suited me best. I observed that, as he was going to unlock the
+chest, he stuffed his nose with some aromatic herbs. He told me that he
+did so to prevent his smelling the musk with which the chest was
+perfumed; musk, he said, had an extraordinary effect upon his nerves. I
+begged to have some of the herbs which he used himself, declaring that
+musk was likewise offensive to me.
+
+"The Jew, either struck by his own conscience or observing my suspicions,
+turned as pale as death. He pretended he had not the right key, and
+could not unlock the chest; said he must go in search of it, and that he
+would call on me again.
+
+"After he had left me, I examined some writing upon the lid of the chest
+that had been nearly effaced. I made out the word 'Smyrna,' and this was
+sufficient to confirm all my suspicions. The Jew returned no more; he
+sent some porters to carry away the chest, and I heard nothing of him for
+some time, till one day, when I was at the house of Damat Zade, I saw a
+glimpse of the Jew passing hastily through one of the courts, as if he
+wished to avoid me. 'My friend,' said I to Damat Zade, 'do not attribute
+my question to impertinent curiosity, or to a desire to intermeddle with
+your affairs, if I venture to ask the nature of your business with the
+Jew who has just now crossed your court?'
+
+"'He has engaged to supply me with clothing for my slaves,' replied my
+friend, 'cheaper than I can purchase it elsewhere. I have a design to
+surprise my daughter Fatima, on her birthday, with an entertainment in
+the pavilion in the garden, and all her female slaves shall appear in new
+dresses on the occasion.'
+
+"I interrupted my friend, to tell him what I suspected relative to this
+Jew and his chest of clothes. It is certain that the infection of the
+plague can be communicated by clothes, not only after months, but after
+years have elapsed. The merchant resolved to have nothing more to do
+with this wretch, who could thus hazard the lives of thousands of his
+follow-creatures for a few pieces of gold. We sent notice of the
+circumstance to the cadi, but the cadi was slow in his operations; and
+before he could take the Jew into custody the cunning fellow had effected
+his escape. When his house was searched, he and his chest had
+disappeared. We discovered that he sailed for Egypt, and rejoiced that
+we had driven him from Constantinople.
+
+"My friend, Damat Zade, expressed the warmest gratitude to me. 'You
+formerly saved my fortune; you have now saved my life, and a life yet
+dearer than my own: that of my daughter Fatima.'
+
+"At the sound of that name I could not, I believe, avoid showing some
+emotion. I had accidentally seen this lady, and I had been captivated by
+her beauty and by the sweetness of her countenance; but as I knew she was
+destined to be the wife of another, I suppressed my feeling, and
+determined to banish the recollection of the fair Fatima for ever from my
+imagination. Her father, however, at this instant threw into my way a
+temptation which it required all my fortitude to resist. 'Saladin,'
+continued he, 'it is but just that you, who have saved our lives, should
+share our festivity. Come here on the birthday of my Fatima; I will
+place you in a balcony which overlooks the garden, and you shall see the
+whole spectacle. We shall have a _feast of tulips_, in imitation of that
+which, as you know, is held in the grand seignior's gardens. I assure
+you the sight will be worth seeing; and besides, you will have a chance
+of beholding my Fatima, for a moment, without her veil.'
+
+"'That,' interrupted I, 'is the thing I most wish to avoid. I dare not
+indulge myself in a pleasure which might cost me the happiness of my
+life. I will conceal nothing from you, who treat me with so much
+confidence. I have already beheld the charming countenance of your
+Fatima, but I know that she is destined to be the wife of a happier man.'
+
+"Damat Zade seemed much pleased by the frankness with which I explained
+myself; but he would not give up the idea of my sitting with him in the
+balcony on the day of the feast of tulips; and I, on my part, could not
+consent to expose myself to another view of the charming Fatima. My
+friend used every argument, or rather every sort of persuasion, he could
+imagine to prevail upon me; he then tried to laugh me out of my
+resolution; and, when all failed, he said, in a voice of anger, 'Go,
+then, Saladin: I am sure you are deceiving me; you have a passion for
+some other woman, and you would conceal it from me, and persuade me you
+refuse the favour I offer you from prudence, when, in fact, it is from
+indifference and contempt. Why could you not speak the truth of your
+heart to me with that frankness with which one friend should treat
+another?'
+
+"Astonished at this unexpected charge, and at the anger which flashed
+from the eyes of Damat Zade, who till this moment had always appeared to
+me a man of a mild and reasonable temper, I was for an instant tempted to
+fly into a passion and leave him; but friends, once lost, are not easily
+regained. This consideration had power sufficient to make me command my
+temper. 'My friend,' replied I, 'we will talk over this affair
+to-morrow. You are now angry, and cannot do me justice, but to-morrow
+you will be cool; you will then be convinced that I have not deceived
+you, and that I have no design but to secure my own happiness, by the
+most prudent means in my power, by avoiding the sight of the dangerous
+Fatima. I have no passion for any other woman.'
+
+"'Then,' said my friend, embracing me, and quitting the tone of anger
+which he had assumed only to try my resolution to the utmost, 'Then,
+Saladin, Fatima is yours.'
+
+"I scarcely dared to believe my senses; I could not express my joy! 'Yes,
+my friend,' continued the merchant, 'I have tried your prudence to the
+utmost, it has been victorious, and I resign my Fatima to you, certain
+that you will make her happy. It is true I had a greater alliance in
+view for her--the Pacha of Maksoud has demanded her from me; but I have
+found, upon private inquiry, he is addicted to the intemperate use of
+opium, and my daughter shall never be the wife of one who is a violent
+madman one-half the day and a melancholy idiot during the remainder. I
+have nothing to apprehend from the pacha's resentment, because I have
+powerful friends with the grand vizier, who will oblige him to listen to
+reason, and to submit quietly to a disappointment he so justly merits.
+And now, Saladin, have you any objection to seeing the feast of tulips?'
+
+"I replied only by falling at the merchant's feet, and embracing his
+knees. The feast of tulips came and on that day I was married to the
+charming Fatima! The charming Fatima I continue still to think her,
+though she has now been my wife some years. She is the joy and pride of
+my heart; and, from our mutual affection, I have experienced more
+felicity than from all the other circumstances of my life, which are
+called so fortunate. Her father gave me the house in which I now live,
+and joined his possessions to ours; so that I have more wealth even than
+I desire. My riches, however, give me continually the means of relieving
+the wants of others; and therefore I cannot affect to despise them. I
+must persuade my brother Murad to share them with me, and to forget his
+misfortunes: I shall then think myself completely happy. As to the
+sultana's looking-glass and your broken vase, my dear brother," continued
+Saladin, "we must think of some means--"
+
+"Think no more of the sultana's looking-glass or of the broken vase,"
+exclaimed the sultan, throwing aside his merchant's habit, and showing
+beneath it his own imperial vest. "Saladin, I rejoice to have heard,
+from your own lips, the history of your life. I acknowledge, vizier, I
+have been in the wrong in our argument," continued the sultan, turning to
+his vizier. "I acknowledge that the histories of Saladin the Lucky and
+Murad the Unlucky favour your opinion, that prudence has more influence
+than chance in human affairs. The success and happiness of Saladin seem
+to me to have arisen from his prudence: by that prudence Constantinople
+has been saved from flames and from the plague. Had Murad possessed his
+brother's discretion, he would not have been on the point of losing his
+head, for selling rolls which he did not bake: he would not have been
+kicked by a mule or bastinadoed for finding a ring: he would not have
+been robbed by one party of soldiers, or shot by another: he would not
+have been lost in a desert, or cheated by a Jew: he would not have set a
+ship on fire; nor would he have caught the plague, and spread it through
+Grand Cairo: he would not have run my sultana's looking-glass through the
+body, instead of a robber: he would not have believed that the fate of
+his life depended on certain verses on a china vase: nor would he, at
+last, have broken this precious talisman, by washing it with hot water.
+Henceforward, let Murad the Unlucky be named Murad the Imprudent: let
+Saladin preserve the surname he merits, and be henceforth called Saladin
+the Prudent."
+
+So spake the sultan, who, unlike the generality of monarchs, could bear
+to find himself in the wrong, and could discover his vizier to be in the
+right without cutting off his head. History farther informs us that the
+sultan offered to make Saladin a pacha, and to commit to him the
+government of a province; but, Saladin the Prudent declined this honour,
+saying he had no ambition, was perfectly happy in his present situation,
+and that, when this was the case, it would be folly to change, because no
+one can be more than happy. What farther adventures befell Murad the
+Imprudent are not recorded; it is known only that he became a daily
+visitor to the Teriaky, and that he died a martyr to the immoderate use
+of opium.
+
+
+
+
+THE LIMERICK GLOVES
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+It was Sunday morning, and a fine day in autumn; the bells of Hereford
+Cathedral rang, and all the world, smartly dressed, were flocking to
+church.
+
+"Mrs. Hill! Mrs. Hill!--Phœbe! Phœbe! There's the cathedral bell, I
+say, and neither of you ready for church, and I a verger," cried Mr.
+Hill, the tanner, as he stood at the bottom of his own staircase. "I'm
+ready, papa," replied Phœbe; and down she came, looking so clean, so
+fresh, and so gay, that her stern father's brows unbent, and he could
+only say to her, as she was drawing on a new pair of gloves, "Child, you
+ought to have had those gloves on before this time of day."
+
+"Before this time of day!" cried Mrs. Hill, who was now coming downstairs
+completely equipped--"before this time of day! She should know better, I
+say, than to put on those gloves at all: more especially when going to
+the cathedral."
+
+"The gloves are very good gloves, as far as I see," replied Mr. Hill.
+"But no matter now. It is more fitting that we should be in proper time
+in our pew, to set an example, as becomes us, than to stand here talking
+of gloves and nonsense."
+
+He offered his wife and daughter each an arm, and set out for the
+cathedral; but Phœbe was too busy in drawing on her new gloves, and her
+mother was too angry at the sight of them, to accept of Mr. Hill's
+courtesy. "What I say is always nonsense, I know, Mr. Hill," resumed the
+matron: "but I can see as far into a millstone as other folks. Was it
+not I that first gave you a hint of what became of the great dog that we
+lost out of our tan-yard last winter? And was it not I who first took
+notice to you, Mr. Hill, verger as you are, of the hole under the
+foundation of the cathedral? Was it not, I ask you, Mr. Hill?"
+
+"But, my dear Mrs. Hill, what has all this to do with Phœbe's gloves?"
+
+"Are you blind, Mr. Hill? Don't you see that they are Limerick gloves?"
+
+"What of that?" said Mr. Hill, still preserving his composure, as it was
+his custom to do as long as he could, when he saw his wife was ruffled.
+
+"What of that, Mr. Hill! why, don't you know that Limerick is in Ireland,
+Mr. Hill?"
+
+"With all my heart, my dear."
+
+"Yes, and with all your heart, I suppose, Mr. Hill, you would see our
+cathedral blown up, some fair day or other, and your own daughter married
+to the person that did it; and you a verger, Mr. Hill."
+
+"God forbid!" cried Mr, Hill; and he stopped short and settled his wig.
+Presently recovering himself, he added, "But, Mrs. Hill, the cathedral is
+not yet blown up; and our Phœbe is not yet married."
+
+"No; but what of that, Mr. Hill? Forewarned is forearmed, as I told you
+before your dog was gone; but you would not believe me, and you see how
+it turned out in that case; and so it will in this case, you'll see, Mr.
+Hill."
+
+"But you puzzle and frighten me out of my wits, Mrs. Hill," said the
+verger, again settling his wig. "_In that case and in this case_! I
+can't understand a syllable of what you've been saying to me this half-
+hour. In plain English, what is there the matter about Phœbe's gloves?"
+
+"In plain English, then, Mr. Hill, since you can understand nothing else,
+please to ask your daughter Phœbe who gave her those gloves. Phœbe,
+who gave you those gloves?"
+
+"I wish they were burnt," said the husband, whose patience could endure
+no longer. "Who gave you those cursed gloves, Phœbe?"
+
+"Papa," answered Phœbe, in a low voice, "they were a present from Mr.
+Brian O'Neill."
+
+"The Irish glover!" cried Mr. Hill, with a look of terror.
+
+"Yes," resumed the mother; "very true, Mr. Hill, I assure you. Now, you
+see, I had my reasons."
+
+"Take off the gloves directly: I order you, Phœbe," said her father, in
+his most peremptory tone. "I took a mortal dislike to that Mr. Brian
+O'Neill the first time I ever saw him. He's an Irishman, and that's
+enough, and too much for me. Off with the gloves, Phœbe! When I order
+a thing, it must be done."
+
+Phœbe seemed to find some difficulty in getting off the gloves, and
+gently urged that she could not well go into the cathedral without them.
+This objection was immediately removed by her mother's pulling from her
+pocket a pair of mittens, which had once been brown, and once been whole,
+but which were now rent in sundry places; and which, having been long
+stretched by one who was twice the size of Phœbe, now hung in huge
+wrinkles upon her well-turned arms.
+
+"But, papa," said Phœbe, "why should we take a dislike to him because he
+is an Irishman? Cannot an Irishman be a good man?"
+
+The verger made no answer to this question, but a few seconds after it
+was put to him observed that the cathedral bell had just done ringing;
+and, as they were now got to the church door, Mrs. Hill, with a
+significant look at Phœbe, remarked that it was no proper time to talk
+or think of good men, or bad men, or Irishmen, or any men, especially for
+a verger's daughter.
+
+We pass over in silence the many conjectures that were made by several of
+the congregation concerning the reason why Miss Phœbe Hill should appear
+in such a shameful shabby pair of gloves on a Sunday. After service was
+ended, the verger went, with great mystery, to examine the hole under the
+foundation of the cathedral; and Mrs. Hill repaired, with the grocer's
+and the stationer's ladies, to take a walk in the Close, where she
+boasted to all her female acquaintance, whom she called her friends, of
+her maternal discretion in prevailing upon Mr. Hill to forbid her
+daughter Phœbe to wear the Limerick gloves.
+
+In the meantime, Phœbe walked pensively homewards, endeavouring to
+discover why her father should take a mortal dislike to a man at first
+sight, merely because he was an Irishman: and why her mother had talked
+so much of the great dog which had been lost last year out of the tan-
+yard; and of the hole under the foundation of the cathedral! "What has
+all this to do with my Limerick gloves?" thought she. The more she
+thought, the less connection she could perceive between these things: for
+as she had not taken a dislike to Mr. Brian O'Neill at first sight,
+because he was an Irishman, she could not think it quite reasonable to
+suspect him of making away with her father's dog, nor yet of a design to
+blow up Hereford Cathedral. As she was pondering upon these matters, she
+came within sight of the ruins of a poor woman's house, which a few
+months before this time had been burnt down. She recollected that her
+first acquaintance with her lover began at the time of this fire; and she
+thought that the courage and humanity he showed, in exerting himself to
+save this unfortunate woman and her children, justified her notion of the
+possibility that an Irishman might be a good man.
+
+The name of the poor woman whose house had been burnt down was Smith: she
+was a widow, and she now lived at the extremity of a narrow lane in a
+wretched habitation. Why Phœbe thought of her with more concern than
+usual at this instant we need not examine, but she did; and, reproaching
+herself for having neglected it for some weeks past, she resolved to go
+directly to see the widow Smith, and to give her a crown which she had
+long had in her pocket, with which she had intended to have bought play
+tickets.
+
+It happened that the first person she saw in the poor widow's kitchen was
+the identical Mr. O'Neill. "I did not expect to see anybody here but
+you, Mrs. Smith," said Phœbe, blushing.
+
+"So much the greater the pleasure of the meeting; to me, I mean, Miss
+Hill," said O'Neill, rising, and putting down a little boy, with whom he
+had been playing. Phœbe went on talking to the poor woman; and, after
+slipping the crown into her hand, said she would call again. O'Neill,
+surprised at the change in her manner, followed her when she left the
+house, and said, "It would be a great misfortune to me to have done
+anything to offend Miss Hill, especially if I could not conceive how or
+what it was, which is my case at this present speaking." And as the
+spruce glover spoke, he fixed his eyes upon Phœbe's ragged gloves. She
+drew them up in vain; and then said, with her natural simplicity and
+gentleness, "You have not done anything to offend me, Mr. O'Neill; but
+you are some way or other displeasing to my father and mother, and they
+have forbid me to wear the Limerick gloves."
+
+"And sure Miss Hill would not be after changing her opinion of her humble
+servant for no reason in life but because her father and mother, who have
+taken a prejudice against him, are a little contrary."
+
+"No," replied Phœbe; "I should not change my opinion without any reason;
+but I have not yet had time to fix my opinion of you, Mr. O'Neill."
+
+"To let you know a piece of my mind, then, my dear Miss Hill," resumed
+he, "the more contrary they are, the more pride and joy it would give me
+to win and wear you, in spite of 'em all; and if without a farthing in
+your pocket, so much the more I should rejoice in the opportunity of
+proving to your dear self, and all else whom it may consarn, that Brian
+O'Neill is no fortune-hunter, and scorns them that are so narrow-minded
+as to think that no other kind of cattle but them there fortune-hunters
+can come out of all Ireland. So, my dear Phœbe, now we understand one
+another, I hope you will not be paining my eyes any longer with the sight
+of these odious brown bags, which are not fit to be worn by any Christian
+arms, to say nothing of Miss Hill's, which are the handsomest, without
+any compliment, that ever I saw, and, to my mind, would become a pair of
+Limerick gloves beyond anything: and I expect she'll show her generosity
+and proper spirit by putting them on immediately."
+
+"You expect, sir!" repeated Miss Hill, with a look of more indignation
+than her gentle countenance had ever before been seen to assume.
+"Expect!" "If he had said hope," thought she, "it would have been
+another thing: but expect! what right has he to expect?"
+
+Now Miss Hill, unfortunately, was not sufficiently acquainted with the
+Irish idiom to know that to expect, in Ireland, is the same thing as to
+hope in England; and, when her Irish admirer said "I expect," he meant
+only, in plain English, "I hope." But thus it is that a poor Irishman,
+often, for want of understanding the niceties of the English language,
+says the rudest when he means to say the civillest things imaginable.
+
+Miss Hill's feelings were so much hurt by this unlucky "I expect" that
+the whole of his speech, which had before made some favourable impression
+upon her, now lost its effect: and she replied with proper spirit, as she
+thought, "You expect a great deal too much, Mr. O'Neill; and more than
+ever I gave you reason to do. It would be neither pleasure nor pride to
+me to be won and worn, as you were pleased to say, in spite of them all;
+and to be thrown, without a farthing in my pocket, upon the protection of
+one who expects so much at first setting out.--So I assure you, sir,
+whatever you may expect, I shall not put on the Limerick gloves."
+
+Mr. O'Neill was not without his share of pride and proper spirit; nay, he
+had, it must be confessed, in common with some others of his countrymen,
+an improper share of pride and spirit. Fired by the lady's coldness, he
+poured forth a volley of reproaches; and ended by wishing, as he said, a
+good morning, for ever and ever, to one who could change her opinion,
+point blank, like the weathercock. "I am, miss, your most obedient; and
+I expect you'll never think no more of poor Brian O'Neill and the
+Limerick gloves."
+
+If he had not been in too great a passion to observe anything, poor Brian
+O'Neill would have found out that Phœbe was not a weathercock: but he
+left her abruptly, and hurried away, imagining all the while that it was
+Phœbe, and not himself, who was in a rage. Thus, to the horseman who is
+galloping at full speed, the hedges, trees, and houses seem rapidly to
+recede, whilst, in reality, they never move from their places. It is he
+that flies from them, and not they from him.
+
+On Monday morning Miss Jenny Brown, the perfumer's daughter, came to pay
+Phœbe a morning visit, with face of busy joy.
+
+"So, my dear!" said she: "fine doings in Hereford! But what makes you
+look so downcast? To be sure you are invited, as well as the rest of
+us."
+
+"Invited where?" cried Mrs. Hill, who was present, and who could never
+endure to hear of an invitation in which she was not included. "Invited
+where, pray, Miss Jenny?"
+
+"La! have not you heard? Why, we all took it for granted that you and
+Miss Phœbe would have been the first and foremost to have been asked to
+Mr. O'Neill's ball."
+
+"Ball!" cried Mrs. Hill; and luckily saved Phœbe, who was in some
+agitation, the trouble of speaking. "Why, this is a mighty sudden thing:
+I never heard a tittle of it before."
+
+"Well, this is really extraordinary! And, Phœbe, have you not received
+a pair of Limerick gloves?"
+
+"Yes, I have," said Phœbe, "but what then? What have my Limerick gloves
+to do with the ball?"
+
+"A great deal," replied Jenny. "Don't you know that a pair of Limerick
+gloves is, as one may say, a ticket to this ball? for every lady that has
+been asked has had a pair sent to her along with the card; and I believe
+as many as twenty, besides myself, have been asked this morning."
+
+Jenny then produced her new pair of Limerick gloves, and as she tried
+them on, and showed how well they fitted, she counted up the names of the
+ladies who, to her knowledge, were to be at this ball. When she had
+finished the catalogue, she expatiated upon the grand preparations which
+it was said the widow O'Neill, Mr. O'Neill's mother, was making for the
+supper, and concluded by condoling with Mrs. Hill for her misfortune in
+not having been invited. Jenny took her leave to get her dress in
+readiness: "for," added she, "Mr. O'Neill has engaged me to open the ball
+in case Phœbe does not go; but I suppose she will cheer up and go, as
+she has a pair of Limerick gloves as well as the rest of us."
+
+There was a silence for some minutes after Jenny's departure, which was
+broken by Phœbe, who told her mother that, early in the morning, a note
+had been brought to her, which she had returned unopened, because she
+knew, from the handwriting of the direction, that it came from Mr.
+O'Neill.
+
+We must observe that Phœbe had already told her mother of her meeting
+with this gentleman at the poor widow's, and of all that had passed
+between them afterwards. This openness on her part had softened the
+heart of Mrs. Hill, who was really inclined to be good-natured, provided
+people would allow that she had more penetration than any one else in
+Hereford. She was, moreover, a good deal piqued and alarmed by the idea
+that the perfumer's daughter might rival and outshine her own. Whilst
+she had thought herself sure of Mr. O'Neill's attachment to Phœbe, she
+had looked higher, especially as she was persuaded by the perfumer's lady
+to think that an Irishman could not but be a bad match; but now she began
+to suspect that the perfumer's lady had changed her opinion of Irishmen,
+since she did not object to her own Jenny's leading up the ball at Mr.
+O'Neill's.
+
+All these thoughts passed rapidly in the mother's mind, and, with her
+fear of losing an admirer for her Phœbe, the value of that admirer
+suddenly rose in her estimation. Thus, at an auction, if a lot is going
+to be knocked down to a lady who is the only person that has bid for it,
+even she feels discontented, and despises that which nobody covets; but
+if, as the hammer is falling, many voices answer to the question, "Who
+bids more?" then her anxiety to secure the prize suddenly rises, and,
+rather than be outbid, she will give far beyond its value.
+
+"Why, child," said Mrs. Hill, "since you have a pair of Limerick gloves;
+and since certainly that note was an invitation to us to this ball; and
+since it is much more fitting that you should open the ball than Jenny
+Brown; and since, after all, it was very handsome and genteel of the
+young man to say he would take you without a farthing in your pocket,
+which shows that those were misinformed who talked of him as an Irish
+adventurer; and since we are not certain 'twas he made away with the dog,
+although he said its barking was a great nuisance; there is no great
+reason to suppose he was the person who made the hole under the
+foundation of the cathedral, or that he could have such a wicked thought
+as to blow it up; and since he must be in a very good way of business to
+be able to afford giving away four or five guineas' worth of Limerick
+gloves, and balls and suppers; and since, after all, it is no fault of
+his to be an Irishman, I give it as my vote and opinion, my dear, that
+you put on your Limerick gloves and go to this ball; and I'll go and
+speak to your father, and bring him round to our opinion, and then I'll
+pay the morning visit I owe to the widow O'Neill and make up your quarrel
+with Brian. Love quarrels are easy to make up, you know, and then we
+shall have things all upon velvet again, and Jenny Brown need not come
+with her hypocritical condoling face to us any more."
+
+After running this speech glibly off, Mrs. Hill, without waiting to hear
+a syllable from poor Phœbe, trotted off in search of her consort. It
+was not, however, quite so easy a task as his wife expected, to bring Mr.
+Hill round to her opinion. He was slow in declaring himself of any
+opinion; but when once he had said a thing, there was but little chance
+of altering his notions. On this occasion Mr. Hill was doubly bound to
+his prejudice against our unlucky Irishman; for he had mentioned with
+great solemnity at the club which he frequented the grand affair of the
+hole under the foundation of the cathedral, and his suspicions that there
+was a design to blow it up. Several of the club had laughed at this
+idea; others, who supposed that Mr. O'Neill was a Roman Catholic, and who
+had a confused notion that a Roman Catholic must be a very wicked,
+dangerous being, thought that there might be a great deal in the verger's
+suggestions, and observed that a very watchful eye ought to be kept upon
+this Irish glover, who had come to settle at Hereford nobody knew why,
+and who seemed to have money at command nobody knew how.
+
+The news of this ball sounded to Mr. Hill's prejudiced imagination like
+the news of a conspiracy. "Ay! ay!" thought he; "the Irishman is cunning
+enough! But we shall be too many for him: he wants to throw all the good
+sober folks of Hereford off their guard by feasting, and dancing, and
+carousing, I take it, and so to perpetrate his evil design when it is
+least suspected; but we shall be prepared for him, fools as he takes us
+plain Englishmen to be, I warrant."
+
+In consequence of these most shrewd cogitations, our verger silenced his
+wife with a peremptory nod when she came to persuade him to let Phœbe
+put on the Limerick gloves and go to the ball. "To this ball she shall
+not go, and I charge her not to put on those Limerick gloves as she
+values my blessing," said Mr. Hill. "Please to tell her so, Mrs. Hill,
+and trust to my judgment and discretion in all things, Mrs. Hill. Strange
+work may be in Hereford yet: but I'll say no more; I must go and consult
+with knowing men who are of my opinion."
+
+He sallied forth, and Mrs. Hill was left in a state which only those who
+are troubled with the disease of excessive curiosity can rightly
+comprehend or compassionate. She hied her back to Phœbe, to whom she
+announced her father's answer, and then went gossiping to all her female
+acquaintance in Hereford, to tell them all that she knew, and all that
+she did not know, and to endeavour to find out a secret where there was
+none to be found.
+
+There are trials of temper in all conditions, and no lady, in high or low
+life, could endure them with a better grace than Phœbe. Whilst Mr. and
+Mrs. Hill were busied abroad, there came to see Phœbe one of the widow
+Smith's children. With artless expressions of gratitude to Phœbe this
+little girl mixed the praises of O'Neill, who, she said, had been the
+constant friend of her mother, and had given her money every week since
+the fire happened. "Mammy loves him dearly for being so good-natured,"
+continued the child; "and he has been good to other people as well as to
+us."
+
+"To whom?" said Phœbe.
+
+"To a poor man who has lodged for these few days past next door to us,"
+replied the child; "I don't know his name rightly, but he is an Irishman,
+and he goes out a-haymaking in the daytime along with a number of others.
+He knew Mr. O'Neill in his own country, and he told mammy a great deal
+about his goodness."
+
+As the child finished these words, Phœbe took out of a drawer some
+clothes, which she had made for the poor woman's children, and gave them
+to the little girl. It happened that the Limerick gloves had been thrown
+into this drawer; and Phœbe's favourable sentiments of the giver of
+those gloves were revived by what she had just heard, and by the
+confession Mrs. Hill had made, that she had no reasons, and but vague
+suspicious, for thinking ill of him. She laid the gloves perfectly
+smooth, and strewed over them, whilst the little girl went on talking of
+Mr. O'Neill, the leaves of a rose which she had worn on Sunday.
+
+Mr. Hill was all this time in deep conference with those prudent men of
+Hereford who were of his own opinion, about the perilous hole under the
+cathedral. The ominous circumstance of this ball was also considered,
+the great expense at which the Irish glover lived, and his giving away
+gloves, which was a sure sign he was not under any necessity to sell
+them, and consequently a proof that, though he pretended to be a glover,
+he was something wrong in disguise. Upon putting all these things
+together, it was resolved by these over-wise politicians that the best
+thing that could be done for Hereford, and the only possible means of
+preventing the immediate destruction of its cathedral, would be to take
+Mr. O'Neill into custody. Upon recollection, however, it was perceived
+that there was no legal ground on which he could be attacked. At length,
+after consulting an attorney, they devised what they thought an admirable
+mode of proceeding.
+
+Our Irish hero had not that punctuality which English tradesmen usually
+observe in the payment of bills; he had, the preceding year, run up a
+long bill with a grocer in Hereford, and, as he had not at Christmas cash
+in hand to pay it, he had given a note, payable six months after date.
+The grocer, at Mr. Hill's request, made over the note to him, and it was
+determined that the money should be demanded, as it was now due, and
+that, if it was not paid directly, O'Neill should be that night arrested.
+How Mr. Hill made the discovery of this debt to the grocer agree with his
+former notion that the Irish glover had always money at command we cannot
+well conceive, but anger and prejudice will swallow down the grossest
+contradictions without difficulty.
+
+When Mr. Hill's clerk went to demand payment of the note, O'Neill's head
+was full of the ball which he was to give that evening. He was much
+surprised at the unexpected appearance of the note: he had not ready
+money by him to pay it; and after swearing a good deal at the clerk, and
+complaining of this ungenerous and ungentleman-like behaviour in the
+grocer and the tanner, he told the clerk to be gone, and not to be
+bothering him at such an unseasonable time: that he could not have the
+money then, and did not deserve to have it at all.
+
+This language and conduct were rather new to the English clerk's
+mercantile ears: we cannot wonder that it should seem to him, as he said
+to his master, more the language of a madman than a man of business. This
+want of punctuality in money transactions, and this mode of treating
+contracts as matters of favour and affection, might not have damned the
+fame of our hero in his own country, where such conduct is, alas! too
+common; but he was now in a kingdom where the manners and customs are so
+directly opposite, that he could meet with no allowance for his national
+faults. It would be well for his countrymen if they were made, even by a
+few mortifications, somewhat sensible of this important difference in the
+habits of Irish and English traders before they come to settle in
+England.
+
+But to proceed with our story. On the night of Mr. O'Neill's grand ball,
+as he was seeing his fair partner, the perfumer's daughter, safe home, he
+felt himself tapped on the shoulder by no friendly hand. When he was
+told that he was the king's prisoner, he vociferated with sundry strange
+oaths, which we forbear to repeat. "No, I am not the king's prisoner! I
+am the prisoner of that shabby, rascally tanner, Jonathan Hill. None but
+he would arrest a gentleman in this way, for a trifle not worth
+mentioning."
+
+Miss Jenny Brown screamed when she found herself under the protection of
+a man who was arrested; and, what between her screams and his oaths,
+there was such a disturbance that a mob gathered.
+
+Among this mob there was a party of Irish haymakers, who, after returning
+late from a hard day's work, had been drinking in a neighbouring
+ale-house. With one accord they took part with their countryman, and
+would have rescued him from the civil officers with all the pleasure in
+life if he had not fortunately possessed just sufficient sense and
+command of himself to restrain their party spirit, and to forbid them, as
+they valued his life and reputation, to interfere, by word or deed, in
+his defence.
+
+He then despatched one of the haymakers home to his mother, to inform her
+of what had happened, and to request that she would get somebody to be
+bail for him as soon as possible, as the officers said they could not let
+him out of their sight till he was bailed by substantial people, or till
+the debt was discharged.
+
+The widow O'Neill was just putting out the candles in the ball-room when
+this news of her son's arrest was brought to her. We pass over Hibernian
+exclamations: she consoled her pride by reflecting that it would
+certainly be the most easy thing imaginable to procure bail for Mr.
+O'Neill in Hereford, where he had so many friends who had just been
+dancing at his house; but to dance at his house she found was one thing
+and to be bail for him quite another. Each guest sent excuses, and the
+widow O'Neill was astonished at what never fails to astonish everybody
+when it happens to themselves. "Rather than let my son be detained in
+this manner for a paltry debt," cried she, "I'd sell all I have within
+half an hour to a pawnbroker." It was well no pawnbroker heard this
+declaration: she was too warm to consider economy. She sent for a
+pawnbroker, who lived in the same street, and, after pledging goods to
+treble the amount of the debt, she obtained ready money for her son's
+release.
+
+O'Neill, after being in custody for about an hour and a half, was set at
+liberty upon the payment of his debt. As he passed by the cathedral in
+his way home, he heard the clock strike; and he called to a man, who was
+walking backwards and forwards in the churchyard, to ask whether it was
+two or three that the clock struck. "Three," answered the man; "and, as
+yet, all is safe."
+
+O'Neill, whose head was full of other things, did not stop to inquire the
+meaning of these last words. He little suspected that this man was a
+watchman whom the over-vigilant verger had stationed there to guard the
+Hereford Cathedral from his attacks. O'Neill little guessed that he had
+been arrested merely to keep him from blowing up the cathedral this
+night. The arrest had an excellent effect upon his mind, for he was a
+young man of good sense: it made him resolve to retrench his expenses in
+time, to live more like a glover and less like a gentleman; and to aim
+more at establishing credit, and less at gaining popularity. He found,
+from experience, that good friends will not pay bad debts.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+On Thursday morning our verger rose in unusually good spirits,
+congratulating himself upon the eminent service he had done to the city
+of Hereford by his sagacity in discovering the foreign plot to blow up
+the Cathedral, and by his dexterity in having the enemy held in custody,
+at the very hour when the dreadful deed was to have been perpetrated. Mr.
+Hill's knowing friends farther agreed it would be necessary to have a
+guard that should sit up every night in the churchyard; and that as soon
+as they could, by constantly watching the enemy's motions, procure any
+information which the attorney should deem sufficient grounds for a legal
+proceeding, they should lay the whole business before the mayor.
+
+After arranging all this most judiciously and mysteriously with friends
+who were exactly of his own opinion, Mr. Hill laid aside his dignity of
+verger, and assuming his other character of a tanner, proceeded to his
+tan-yard. What was his surprise and consternation, when he beheld his
+great rick of oak bark levelled to the ground; the pieces of bark were
+scattered far and wide, some over the close, some over the fields, and
+some were seen swimming upon the water! No tongue, no pen, no muse can
+describe the feelings of our tanner at this spectacle--feelings which
+became the more violent from the absolute silence which he imposed on
+himself upon this occasion. He instantly decided in his own mind that
+this injury was perpetrated by O'Neill, in revenge for his arrest; and
+went privately to the attorney to inquire what was to be done, on his
+part, to secure legal vengeance.
+
+The attorney unluckily--or at least, as Mr. Hill thought, unluckily--had
+been sent for, half an hour before, by a gentleman at some distance from
+Hereford, to draw up a will: so that our tanner was obliged to postpone
+his legal operations.
+
+We forbear to recount his return, and how many times he walked up and
+down the close to view his scattered bark, and to estimate the damage
+that had been done to him. At length that hour came which usually
+suspends all passions by the more imperious power of appetite--the hour
+of dinner: an hour of which it was never needful to remind Mr. Hill by
+watch, clock, or dial; for he was blessed with a punctual appetite, and
+powerful as punctual: so powerful, indeed, that it often excited the
+spleen of his more genteel or less hungry wife. "Bless my stars! Mr.
+Hill," she would oftentimes say, "I am really downright ashamed to see
+you eat so much; and when company is to dine with us, I do wish you would
+take a snack by way of a damper before dinner, that you may not look so
+prodigious famishing and ungenteel."
+
+Upon this hint, Mr. Hill commenced a practice, to which he ever
+afterwards religiously adhered, of going, whether there was to be company
+or no company, into the kitchen regularly every day, half an hour before
+dinner, to take a slice from the roast or the boiled before it went up to
+table. As he was this day, according to his custom, in the kitchen,
+taking his snack by way of a damper, he heard the housemaid and the cook
+talking about some wonderful fortune-teller, whom the housemaid had been
+consulting. This fortune-teller was no less a personage than the
+successor to Bampfylde Moore Carew, king of the gipsies, whose life and
+adventures are probably in many, too many, of our readers' hands.
+Bampfylde, the second king of the gipsies, assumed this title, in hopes
+of becoming as famous, or as infamous, as his predecessor: he was now
+holding his court in a wood near the town of Hereford, and numbers of
+servant-maids and 'prentices went to consult him--nay, it was whispered
+that he was resorted to, secretly, by some whose education might have
+taught them better sense.
+
+Numberless were the instances which our verger heard in his kitchen of
+the supernatural skill of this cunning man; and whilst Mr. Hill ate his
+snack with his wonted gravity, he revolved great designs in his secret
+soul. Mrs. Hill was surprised, several times during dinner, to see her
+consort put down his knife and fork, and meditate. "Gracious me, Mr.
+Hill! what can have happened to you this day? What can you be thinking
+of, Mr. Hill, that can make you forget what you have upon your plate?"
+
+"Mrs. Hill," replied the thoughtful verger, "our grandmother Eve had too
+much curiosity; and we all know it did not lead to good. What I am
+thinking of will be known to you in due time, but not now, Mrs. Hill;
+therefore, pray, no questions, or teasing, or pumping. What I think, I
+think; what I say, I say; what I know, I know; and that is enough for you
+to know at present: only this, Phœbe, you did very well not to put on
+the Limerick gloves, child. What I know, I know. Things will turn out
+just as I said from the first. What I say, I say; and what I think, I
+think; and this is enough for you to know at present."
+
+Having finished dinner with this solemn speech, Mr. Hill settled himself
+in his arm-chair, to take his after-dinner's nap: and he dreamed of
+blowing up cathedrals, and of oak bark floating upon the waters; and the
+cathedral was, he thought, blown up by a man dressed in a pair of woman's
+Limerick gloves, and the oak bark turned into mutton steaks, after which
+his great dog Jowler was swimming; when, all on a sudden, as he was going
+to beat Jowler for eating the bark transformed into mutton steaks, Jowler
+became Bampfylde the Second, king of the gipsies; and putting a horse-
+whip with a silver handle into Hill's hand, commanded him three times, in
+a voice as loud as the town-crier's, to have O'Neill whipped through the
+market-place of Hereford: but just as he was going to the window to see
+this whipping, his wig fell off, and he awoke.
+
+It was difficult, even for Mr. Hill's sagacity, to make sense of this
+dream: but he had the wise art of always finding in his dreams something
+that confirmed his waking determinations. Before he went to sleep, he
+had half resolved to consult the king of the gipsies, in the absence of
+the attorney; and his dream made him now wholly determined upon this
+prudent step. "From Bampfylde the Second," thought he, "I shall learn
+for certain who made the hole under the cathedral, who pulled down my
+rick of bark, and who made away with my dog Jowler; and then I shall
+swear examinations against O'Neill, without waiting for attorneys. I
+will follow my own way in this business: I have always found my own way
+best."
+
+So, when the dusk of the evening increased, our wise man set out towards
+the wood to consult the cunning man. Bampfylde the Second, king of the
+gipsies, resided in a sort of hut made of the branches of trees; the
+verger stooped, but did not stoop low enough, as he entered this
+temporary palace, and, whilst his body was almost bent double, his peruke
+was caught upon a twig. From this awkward situation he was relieved by
+the consort of the king; and he now beheld, by the light of some embers,
+the person of his gipsy majesty, to whose sublime appearance this dim
+light was so favourable that it struck a secret awe into our wise man's
+soul; and, forgetting Hereford Cathedral, and oak bark, and Limerick
+gloves, he stood for some seconds speechless. During this time, the
+queen very dexterously disencumbered his pocket of all superfluous
+articles. When he recovered his recollection, he put with great
+solemnity the following queries to the king of the gipsies, and received
+the following answers:--
+
+"Do you know a dangerous Irishman of the name of O'Neill, who has come,
+for purposes best known to himself, to settle at Hereford?"
+
+"Yes, we know him well."
+
+"Indeed! And what do you know of him?"
+
+"That he is a dangerous Irishman."
+
+"Right! And it was he, was it not, that pulled down, or caused to be
+pulled down, my rick of oak bark?"
+
+"It was."
+
+"And who was it that made away with my dog Jowler, that used to guard the
+tan-yard?"
+
+"It was the person that you suspect."
+
+"And was it the person whom I suspect that made the hole under the
+foundation of our cathedral?"
+
+"The same, and no other."
+
+"And for what purpose did he make that hole?"
+
+"For a purpose that must not be named," replied the king of the gipsies,
+nodding his head in a mysterious manner.
+
+"But it may be named to me," cried the verger, "for I have found it out,
+and I am one of the vergers; and is it not fit that a plot to blow up the
+Hereford Cathedral should be known _to_ me, and _through_ me?"
+
+  "Now, take my word,
+  Wise men of Hereford,
+  None in safety may be,
+  Till the bad man doth flee."
+
+These oracular verses, pronounced by Bampfylde with all the enthusiasm of
+one who was inspired, had the desired effect upon our wise man; and he
+left the presence of the king of the gipsies with a prodigiously high
+opinion of his majesty's judgment and of his own, fully resolved to
+impart, the next morning, to the mayor of Hereford his important
+discoveries.
+
+Now it happened that, during the time Mr. Hill was putting the foregoing
+queries to Bampfylde the Second, there came to the door or entrance of
+the audience chamber an Irish haymaker who wanted to consult the cunning
+man about a little leathern purse which he had lost whilst he was making
+hay in a field near Hereford. This haymaker was the same person who, as
+we have related, spoke so advantageously of our hero O'Neill to the widow
+Smith. As this man, whose name was Paddy M'Cormack, stood at the
+entrance of the gipsies' hut, his attention was caught by the name of
+O'Neill; and he lost not a word of all that pasted. He had reason to be
+somewhat surprised at hearing Bampfylde assert it was O'Neill who had
+pulled down the rick of bark. "By the holy poker!" said he to himself,
+"the old fellow now is out there. I know more o' that matter than he
+does--no offence to his majesty; he knows no more of my purse, I'll
+engage now, than he does of this man's rick of bark and his dog: so I'll
+keep my tester in my pocket, and not be giving it to this king o' the
+gipsies, as they call him: who, as near as I can guess, is no better than
+a cheat. But there is one secret which I can be telling this conjuror
+himself: he shall not find it such an easy matter to do all what he
+thinks; he shall not be after ruining an innocent countryman of my own
+whilst Paddy M'Cormack has a tongue and brains."
+
+Now, Paddy M'Cormack had the best reason possible for knowing that Mr.
+O'Neill did not pull down Mr. Hill's rick of bark; it was M'Cormack
+himself who, in the heat of his resentment for the insulting arrest of
+his countryman in the streets of Hereford, had instigated his fellow
+haymakers to this mischief; he headed them, and thought he was doing a
+clever, spirited action.
+
+There is a strange mixture of virtue and vice in the minds of the lower
+class of Irish: or rather, a strange confusion in their ideas of right
+and wrong, from want of proper education. As soon as poor Paddy found
+out that his spirited action of pulling down the rick of bark was likely
+to be the ruin of his countryman, he resolved to make all the amends in
+his power for his folly--he went to collect his fellow haymakers, and
+persuaded them to assist him this night in rebuilding what they had
+pulled down.
+
+They went to this work when everybody except themselves, as they thought,
+was asleep in Hereford. They had just completed the stack, and were all
+going away except Paddy, who was seated at the very top, finishing the
+pile, when they heard a loud voice cry out, "Here they are! Watch!
+Watch!"
+
+Immediately all the haymakers who could, ran off as fast as possible. It
+was the watch who had been sitting up at the cathedral who gave the
+alarm. Paddy was taken from the top of the rick and lodged in the watch-
+house till morning. "Since I'm to be rewarded this way for doing a good
+action, sorrow take me," said he, "if they catch me doing another the
+longest day ever I live."
+
+Happy they who have in their neighbourhood such a magistrate as Mr.
+Marshal! He was a man who, to an exact knowledge of the duties of his
+office, joined the power of discovering truth from the midst of
+contradictory evidence, and the happy art of soothing or laughing the
+angry passions into good-humour. It was a common saying in Hereford that
+no one ever came out of Justice Marshal's house as angry as he went into
+it.
+
+Mr. Marshal had scarcely breakfasted when he was informed that Mr. Hill,
+the verger, wanted to speak to him on business of the utmost importance.
+Mr. Hill, the verger, was ushered in; and, with gloomy solemnity, took a
+seat opposite to Mr. Marshal.
+
+"Sad doings in Hereford, Mr. Marshal! Sad doings, sir."
+
+"Sad doings? Why, I was told we had merry doings in Hereford. A ball
+the night before last, as I heard."
+
+"So much the worse, Mr. Marshal--so much the worse: as those think with
+reason that see as far into things as I do."
+
+"So much the better, Mr. Hill," said Mr. Marshal, laughing, "so much the
+better: as those think with reason that see no farther into things than I
+do."
+
+"But, sir," said the verger, still more solemnly, "this is no laughing
+matter, nor time for laughing, begging your pardon. Why, sir, the night
+of that there diabolical ball our Hereford Cathedral, sir, would have
+been blown up--blown up from the foundation, if it had not been for me,
+sir!"
+
+"Indeed, Mr. Verger! And pray how, and by whom, was the cathedral to be
+blown up? and what was there diabolical in this ball?"
+
+Here Mr. Hill let Mr. Marshal into the whole history of his early dislike
+to O'Neill, and his shrewd suspicions of him the first moment he saw him
+in Hereford: related in the most prolix manner all that the reader knows
+already, and concluded by saying that, as he was now certain of his
+facts, he was come to swear examinations against this villanous Irishman,
+who, he hoped, would be speedily brought to justice, as he deserved.
+
+"To justice he shall be brought, as he deserves," said Mr. Marshal; "but
+before I write, and before you swear, will you have the goodness to
+inform me how you have made yourself as certain, as you evidently are, of
+what you call your facts?"
+
+"Sir, that is a secret," replied our wise man, "which I shall trust to
+you alone;" and he whispered into Mr. Marshal's ear that, his information
+came from Bampfylde the Second, king of the gipsies.
+
+Mr. Marshal instantly burst into laughter; then composing himself, said:
+"My good sir, I am really glad that you have proceeded no farther in this
+business; and that no one in Hereford, beside myself, knows that you were
+on the point of swearing examinations against a man on the evidence of
+Bampfylde the Second, king of the gipsies. My dear sir, it would be a
+standing joke against you to the end of your days. A grave man like Mr.
+Hill! and a verger too! Why you would be the laughing-stock of
+Hereford!"
+
+Now Mr. Marshal well knew the character of the man to whom he was
+talking, who, above all things on earth, dreaded to be laughed at. Mr.
+Hill coloured all over his face, and, pushing back his wig by way of
+settling it, showed that he blushed not only all over his face, but all
+over his head.
+
+"Why, Mr. Marshal, sir," said he, "as to my being laughed at, it is what
+I did not look for, being, as there are, some men in Hereford to whom I
+have mentioned that hole in the cathedral, who have thought it no
+laughing matter, and who have been precisely of my own opinion
+thereupon."
+
+"But did you tell these gentlemen that you had been consulting the king
+of the gipsies?"
+
+"No, sir, no: I can't say that I did."
+
+"Then I advise you, keep your own counsel, as I will."
+
+Mr. Hill, whose imagination wavered between the hole in the cathedral and
+his rick of bark on one side, and between his rick of bark and his dog
+Jowler on the other, now began to talk of the dog, and now of the rick of
+bark; and when he had exhausted all he had to say upon these subjects,
+Mr. Marshal gently pulled him towards the window, and putting a spy-glass
+into his hand, bade him look towards his own tan-yard, and tell him what
+he saw. To his great surprise, Mr. Hill saw his rick of bark re-built.
+"Why, it was not there last night," exclaimed he, rubbing his eyes. "Why,
+some conjuror must have done this."
+
+"No," replied Mr. Marshal, "no conjuror did it: but your friend Bampfylde
+the Second, king of the gipsies, was the cause of its being re-built; and
+here is the man who actually pulled it down, and who actually re-built
+it."
+
+As he said these words Mr. Marshal opened the door of an adjoining room
+and beckoned to the Irish haymaker, who had been taken into custody about
+an hour before this time. The watch who took Paddy had called at Mr.
+Hill's house to tell him what had happened, but Mr. Hill was not then at
+home.
+
+It was with much surprise that the verger heard the simple truth from
+this poor fellow; but no sooner was he convinced that O'Neill was
+innocent as to this affair, than he recurred to his other ground of
+suspicion, the loss of his dog.
+
+The Irish haymaker now stepped forward, and, with a peculiar twist of the
+hips and shoulders, which those only who have seen it can picture to
+themselves, said, "Plase your honour's honour, I have a little word to
+say too about the dog."
+
+"Say it, then," said Mr. Marshal.
+
+"Plase your honour, if I might expect to be forgiven, and let off for
+pulling down the jontleman's stack, I might be able to tell him what I
+know about the dog."
+
+"If you can tell me anything about my dog," said the tanner, "I will
+freely forgive you for pulling down the rick: especially as you have
+built it up again. Speak the truth, now: did not O'Neill make away with
+the dog?"
+
+"Not at all, at all, plase your honour," replied the haymaker: "and the
+truth of the matter is, I know nothing of the dog, good or bad; but I
+know something of his collar, if your name, plase your honour, is Hill,
+as I take it to be."
+
+"My name is Hill: proceed," said the tanner, with great eagerness. "You
+know something about the collar of my dog Jowler?"
+
+"Plase your honour, this much I know, any way, that it is now, or was the
+night before last, at the pawnbroker's there, below in town; for, plase
+your honour, I was sent late at night (that night that Mr. O'Neill, long
+life to him! was arrested) to the pawnbroker's for a Jew by Mrs. O'Neill,
+poor creature! She was in great trouble that same time."
+
+"Very likely," interrupted Mr. Hill: "but go on to the collar; what of
+the collar?"
+
+"She sent me--I'll tell you the story, plase your honour, _out of the
+face_--she sent me to the pawnbroker's for the Jew; and, it being so late
+at night, the shop was shut, and it was with all the trouble in life that
+I got into the house any way: and, when I got in, there was none but a
+slip of a boy up; and he set down the light that he had in his hand, and
+ran up the stairs to waken his master: and, whilst he was gone, I just
+made bold to look round at what sort of a place I was in, and at the old
+clothes and rags and scraps; there was a sort of a frieze trusty."
+
+"A trusty!" said Mr. Hill; "what is that, pray?"
+
+"A big coat, sure, plase your honour: there was a frieze big coat lying
+in a corner, which I had my eye upon, to trate myself to: I having, as I
+then thought, money in my little purse enough for it. Well, I won't
+trouble your honour's honour with telling of you now how I lost my purse
+in the field, as I found after; but about the big coat--as I was saying,
+I just lifted it off the ground to see would it fit me; and, as I swung
+it round, something, plase your honour, hit me a great knock on the
+shins: it was in the pocket of the coat, whatever it was, I knew; so I
+looks into the pocket to see what was it, plase your honour, and out I
+pulls a hammer and a dog-collar: it was a wonder, both together, they did
+not break my shins entirely: but it's no matter for my shins now; so,
+before the boy came down, I just out of idleness spelt out to myself the
+name that was upon the collar: there were two names, plase your honour,
+and out of the first there were so many letters hammered out I could make
+nothing of it at all, at all; but the other name was plain enough to
+read, any way, and it was Hill, plase your honour's honour, as sure as
+life: Hill, now."
+
+This story was related in tones and gestures which were so new and
+strange to English ears and eyes, that even the solemnity of our verger
+gave way to laughter.
+
+Mr. Marshal sent a summons for the pawnbroker, that he might learn from
+him how he came by the dog-collar. The pawnbroker, when he found from
+Mr. Marshal that he could by no other means save himself from being
+committed to prison, confessed that the collar had been sold to him by
+Bampfylde the Second, king of the gipsies.
+
+A warrant was immediately despatched for his majesty; and Mr. Hill was a
+good deal alarmed by the fear of its being known in Hereford that he was
+on the point of swearing examinations against an innocent man upon the
+evidence of a dog-stealer and a gipsy.
+
+Bampfylde the Second made no sublime appearance when he was brought
+before Mr. Marshal, nor could all his astrology avail upon this occasion.
+The evidence of the pawnbroker was so positive as to the fact of his
+having sold to him the dog-collar, that there was no resource left for
+Bampfylde but an appeal to Mr. Hill's mercy. He fell on his knees, and
+confessed that it was he who stole the dog, which used to bark at him at
+night so furiously, that he could not commit certain petty depredations
+by which, as much as by telling fortunes, he made his livelihood.
+
+"And so," said Mr. Marshal, with a sternness of manner which till now he
+had never shown, "to screen yourself, you accused an innocent man; and by
+your vile arts would have driven him from Hereford, and have set two
+families for ever at variance, to conceal that you had stolen a dog."
+
+The king of the gipsies was, without further ceremony, committed to the
+house of correction. We should not omit to mention that, on searching
+his hat, the Irish haymaker's purse was found, which some of his
+majesty's train had emptied. The whole set of gipsies decamped upon the
+news of the apprehension of their monarch.
+
+Mr. Hill stood in profound silence, leaning upon his walking-stick,
+whilst the committal was making out for Bampfylde the Second. The fear
+of ridicule was struggling with the natural positiveness of his temper.
+He was dreadfully afraid that the story of his being taken in by the king
+of the gipsies would get abroad; and, at the same time, he was unwilling
+to give up his prejudice against the Irish glover.
+
+"But, Mr. Marshal," cried he, after a long silence, "the hole under the
+foundation of the cathedral has never been accounted for--that is, was,
+and ever will be, an ugly mystery to me; and I never can have a good
+opinion of this Irishman till it is cleared up, nor can I think the
+cathedral in safety."
+
+"What!" said Mr. Marshal, with an arch smile, "I suppose the verses of
+the oracle still work upon your imagination, Mr. Hill. They are
+excellent in their kind. I must have them by heart, that when I am asked
+the reason why Mr. Hill has taken an aversion to an Irish glover, I may
+be able to repeat them:--
+
+  "Now, take my word,
+  Wise men of Hereford,
+  None in safety may be,
+  Till the bad man doth flee."
+
+"You'll oblige me, sir," said the verger, "if you would never repeat
+those verses, sir, nor mention, in any company, the affair of the king of
+the gipsies."
+
+"I will oblige you," replied Mr. Marshal, "if you will oblige me. Will
+you tell me honestly whether, now that you find this Mr. O'Neill is
+neither a dog-killer nor a puller-down of bark-ricks, you feel that you
+could forgive him for being an Irishman, if the mystery, as you call it,
+of the hole under the cathedral was cleared up?"
+
+"But that is not cleared up, I say, sir," cried Mr. Hill, striking his
+walking-stick forcibly upon the ground with both his hands. "As to the
+matter of his being an Irishman, I have nothing to say to it; I am not
+saying anything about that, for I know we all are born where it pleases
+God, and an Irishman may be as good as another. I know that much, Mr.
+Marshal, and I am not one of those illiberal-minded, ignorant people that
+cannot abide a man that was not born in England. Ireland is now in his
+majesty's dominions. I know very well, Mr. Marshal; and I have no manner
+of doubt, as I said before, that an Irishman born may be as good, almost,
+as an Englishman born."
+
+"I am glad," said Mr. Marshal, "to hear you speak--almost as reasonably
+as an Englishman born and every man ought to speak; and I am convinced
+that you have too much English hospitality to persecute an inoffensive
+stranger, who comes amongst us trusting to our justice and good nature."
+
+"I would not persecute a stranger, God forbid!" replied the verger, "if
+he was, as you say, inoffensive."
+
+"And if he was not only inoffensive, but ready to do every service in his
+power to those who are in want of his assistance, we should not return
+evil for good, should we?"
+
+"That would be uncharitable, to be sure; and, moreover, a scandal," said
+the verger.
+
+"Then," said Mr. Marshal, "will you walk with me as far as the Widow
+Smith's, the poor woman whose house was burnt last winter? This
+haymaker, who lodged near her, can show us the way to her present abode."
+
+During his examination of Paddy M'Cormack, who would tell his whole
+history, as he called it, _out of the face_, Mr. Marshal heard several
+instances of the humanity and goodness of O'Neill, which Paddy related to
+excuse himself for that warmth of attachment to his cause that had been
+manifested so injudiciously by pulling down the rick of bark in revenge
+for the rest. Amongst other things, Paddy mentioned his countryman's
+goodness to the Widow Smith. Mr. Marshal was determined, therefore, to
+see whether he had, in this instance, spoken the truth; and he took Hill
+with him, in hopes of being able to show him the favourable side of
+O'Neill's character.
+
+Things turned out just as Mr. Marshal expected. The poor widow and her
+family, in the most simple and affecting manner, described the distress
+from which they had been relieved by the good gentleman; and lady--the
+lady was Phœbe Hill; and the praises that were bestowed upon Phœbe were
+delightful to her father's ear, whose angry passions had now all
+subsided.
+
+The benevolent Mr. Marshal seized the moment when he saw Mr. Hill's heart
+was touched, and exclaimed, "I must be acquainted with this Mr. O'Neill.
+I am sure we people of Hereford ought to show some hospitality to a
+stranger who has so much humanity. Mr. Hill, will you dine with him to-
+morrow at my house?"
+
+Mr. Hill was just going to accept of this invitation, when the
+recollection of all he had said to his club about the hole under the
+cathedral came across him, and, drawing Mr. Marshal aside, he whispered,
+"But, sir, sir, that affair of the hole under the cathedral has not been
+cleared up yet."
+
+At this instant the Widow Smith exclaimed, "Oh! here comes my little
+Mary" (one of her children, who came running in); "this is the little
+girl, sir, to whom the lady has been so good. Make your curtsey, child.
+Where have you been all this while?"
+
+"Mammy," said the child, "I've been showing the lady my rat."
+
+"Lord bless her! Gentlemen, the child has been wanting me this many a
+day to go to see this tame rat of hers; but I could never get time,
+never--and I wondered, too, at the child's liking such a creature. Tell
+the gentlemen, dear, about your rat. All I know is that, let her have
+but never such a tiny bit of bread for breakfast or supper, she saves a
+little of that little for this rat of hers; she and her brothers have
+found it out somewhere by the cathedral."
+
+"It comes out of a hole under the wall of the cathedral," said one of the
+older boys; "and we have diverted ourselves watching it, and sometimes we
+have put victuals for it--so it has grown, in a manner, tame-like."
+
+Mr. Hill and Mr. Marshal looked at one another during this speech; and
+the dread of ridicule again seized on Mr. Hill, when he apprehended that,
+after all he had said, the mountain might at last bring forth--a rat. Mr.
+Marshal, who instantly saw what passed in the verger's mind, relieved him
+from this fear by refraining even from a smile on this occasion. He only
+said to the child, in a grave manner, "I am afraid, my dear, we shall be
+obliged to spoil your diversion. Mr. Verger, here, cannot suffer rat-
+holes in the cathedral; but, to make you amends for the loss of your
+favourite, I will give you a very pretty little dog, if you have a mind."
+
+The child was well pleased with this promise; and, at Mr. Marshal's
+desire, she then went along with him and Mr. Hill to the cathedral, and
+they placed themselves at a little distance from that hole which had
+created so much disturbance. The child soon brought the dreadful enemy
+to light; and Mr. Hill, with a faint laugh, said, "I'm glad it's no
+worse, but there were many in our club who were of my opinion; and, if
+they had not suspected O'Neill too, I am sure I should never have given
+you so much trouble, sir, as I have done this morning. But I hope, as
+the club know nothing about that vagabond, that king of the gipsies, you
+will not let any one know anything about the prophecy, and all that? I
+am sure I am very sorry to have given you so much trouble, Mr. Marshal."
+
+Mr. Marshal assured him that he did not regret the time which he had
+spent in endeavouring to clear up all those mysteries and suspicions; and
+Mr. Hill gladly accepted his invitation to meet O'Neill at his house the
+next day. No sooner had Mr. Marshal brought one of the parties to reason
+and good humour than he went to prepare the other for a reconciliation.
+O'Neill and his mother were both people of warm but forgiving tempers--the
+arrest was fresh in their minds; but when Mr. Marshal represented to them
+the whole affair, and the verger's prejudices, in a humorous light, they
+joined in the good-natured laugh; and O'Neill declared that, for his
+part, he was ready to forgive and to forget everything if he could but
+see Miss Phœbe in the Limerick gloves.
+
+Phœbe appeared the next day, at Mr. Marshal's, in the Limerick gloves;
+and no perfume ever was so delightful to her lover as the smell of the
+rose-leaves in which they had been kept.
+
+Mr. Marshal had the benevolent pleasure of reconciling the two families.
+The tanner and the glover of Hereford became, from bitter enemies, useful
+friends to each other; and they were convinced by experience that nothing
+could be more for their mutual advantage than to live in union.
+
+
+
+
+MADAME DE FLEURY
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+  "There oft are heard the notes of infant woe,
+  The short thick sob, loud scream, and shriller squall--
+  How can you, mothers, vex your infants so?"--POPE
+
+"D'abord, madame, c'est impossible!--Madame ne descendra pas ici?" said
+Francois, the footman of Madame de Fleury, with a half expostulatory,
+half indignant look, as he let down the step of her carriage at the
+entrance of a dirty passage, that led to one of the most
+miserable-looking houses in Paris.
+
+"But what can be the cause of the cries which I hear in this house?" said
+Madame de Fleury.
+
+"'Tis only some child who is crying," replied Francois; and he would have
+put up the step, but his lady was not satisfied.
+
+"'Tis nothing in the world," continued he, with a look of appeal to the
+coachman, "it _can_ be nothing, but some children who are locked up there
+above. The mother, the workwoman my lady wants, is not at home: that's
+certain."
+
+"I must know the cause of these cries; I must see these children" said
+Madame de Fleury, getting out of her carriage.
+
+Francois held his arm for his lady as she got out.
+
+"Bon!" cried he, with an air of vexation. "Si madame la vent absolument,
+a la bonne heure!--Mais madame sera abimee. Madame verra que j'ai
+raison. Madame ne montera jamais ce vilain escalier. D'ailleurs c'est
+au cinquieme. Mais, madame, c'est impossible."
+
+Notwithstanding the impossibility, Madame de Fleury proceeded; and
+bidding her talkative footman wait in the entry, made her way up the
+dark, dirty, broken staircase, the sound of the cries increasing every
+instant, till, as she reached the fifth storey, she heard the shrieks of
+one in violent pain. She hastened to the door of the room from which the
+cries proceeded; the door was fastened, and the noise was so great that,
+though she knocked as loud as she was able, she could not immediately
+make herself heard. At last the voice of a child from within answered,
+"The door is locked--mamma has the key in her pocket, and won't be home
+till night; and here's Victoire has tumbled from the top of the big
+press, and it is she that is shrieking so."
+
+Madame de Fleury ran down the stairs which she had ascended with so much
+difficulty, called to her footman, who was waiting in the entry,
+despatched him for a surgeon, and then she returned to obtain from some
+people who lodged in the house assistance to force open the door of the
+room in which the children were confined.
+
+On the next floor there was a smith at work, filing so earnestly that he
+did not hear the screams of the children. When his door was pushed open,
+and the bright vision of Madame de Fleury appeared to him, his
+astonishment was so great that he seemed incapable of comprehending what
+she said. In a strong provincial accent he repeated, "_Plait-il_?" and
+stood aghast till she had explained herself three times; then suddenly
+exclaiming, "Ah! c'est ca;"--he collected his tools precipitately, and
+followed to obey her orders. The door of the room was at last forced
+half open, for a press that had been overturned prevented its opening
+entirely. The horrible smells that issued did not overcome Madame de
+Fleury's humanity: she squeezed her way into the room, and behind the
+fallen press saw three little children: the youngest, almost an infant,
+ceased roaring, and ran to a corner; the eldest, a boy of about eight
+years old, whose face and clothes were covered with blood, held on his
+knee a girl younger than himself, whom he was trying to pacify, but who
+struggled most violently and screamed incessantly, regardless of Madame
+de Fleury, to whose questions she made no answer.
+
+"Where are you hurt, my dear?" repeated Madame de Fleury in a soothing
+voice. "Only tell me where you feel pain?"
+
+The boy, showing his sister's arm, said, in a surly tone--"It is this
+that is hurt--but it was not I did it."
+
+"It was, it _was_!" cried the girl as loud as she could vociferate: "it
+was Maurice threw me down from the top of the press."
+
+"No--it was you that were pushing me, Victoire, and you fell
+backwards.--Have done screeching, and show your arm to the lady."
+
+"I can't," said the girl.
+
+"She won't," said the boy.
+
+"She cannot," said Madame de Fleury, kneeling down to examine it. "She
+cannot move it; I am afraid that it is broken."
+
+"Don't touch it! don't touch it!" cried the girl, screaming more
+violently.
+
+"Ma'am, she screams that way for nothing often," said the boy. "Her arm
+is no more broke than mine, I'm sure; she'll move it well enough when
+she's not cross."
+
+"I am afraid," said Madame de Fleury, "that her arm is broken."
+
+"Is it indeed?" said the boy, with a look of terror.
+
+"Oh! don't touch it--you'll kill me; you are killing me," screamed the
+poor girl, whilst Madame de Fleury with the greatest care endeavoured to
+join the bones in their proper place, and resolved to hold the arm till
+the arrival of the surgeon.
+
+From the feminine appearance of this lady, no stranger would have
+expected such resolution; but with all the natural sensibility and
+graceful delicacy of her sex, she had none of that weakness or affection
+which incapacitates from being useful in real distress. In most sudden
+accidents, and in all domestic misfortunes, female resolution and
+presence of mind are indispensably requisite: safety, health, and life
+often depend upon the fortitude of women. Happy they who, like Madame de
+Fleury, possess strength of mind united with the utmost gentleness of
+manner and tenderness of disposition!
+
+Soothed by this lady's sweet voice, the child's rage subsided; and no
+longer struggling, the poor little girl sat quietly on her lap, sometimes
+writhing and moaning with pain.
+
+The surgeon at length arrived: her arm was set: and he said "that she had
+probably been saved much future pain by Madame de Fleury's presence of
+mind."
+
+"Sir,--will it soon be well?" said Maurice to the surgeon.
+
+"Oh yes, very soon, I dare say," said the little girl. "To-morrow,
+perhaps; for now that it is tied up it does not hurt me to signify--and
+after all, I do believe, Maurice, it was not you threw me down."
+
+As she spoke, she held up her face to kiss her brother.--"That is right,"
+said Madame de Fleury; "there is a good sister."
+
+The little girl put out her lips, offering a second kiss, but the boy
+turned hastily away to rub the tears from his eyes with the back of his
+hand.
+
+"I am not cross now: am I, Maurice?"
+
+"No, Victoire; I was cross myself when I said _that_."
+
+As Victoire was going to speak again, the surgeon imposed silence,
+observing that she must be put to bed, and should be kept quiet. Madame
+de Fleury laid her upon the bed, as soon as Maurice had cleared it of the
+things with which it was covered; and as they were spreading the ragged
+blanket over the little girl, she whispered a request to Madame de Fleury
+that she would "stay till her mamma came home, to beg Maurice off from
+being whipped, if mamma should be angry."
+
+Touched by this instance of goodness, and compassionating the desolate
+condition of these children, Madame de Fleury complied with Victoire's
+request; resolving to remonstrate with their mother for leaving them
+locked up in this manner. They did not know to what part of the town
+their mother was gone; they could tell only "that she was to go to a
+great many different places to carry back work, and to bring home more,
+and that she expected to be in by five." It was now half after four.
+
+Whilst Madame de Fleury waited, she asked the boy to give her a full
+account of the manner in which the accident had happened.
+
+"Why, ma'am," said Maurice, twisting and untwisting a ragged handkerchief
+as he spoke, "the first beginning of all the mischief was, we had nothing
+to do, so we went to the ashes to make dirt pies; but Babet would go so
+close that she burnt her petticoat, and threw about all our ashes, and
+plagued us, and we whipped her. But all would not do, she would not be
+quiet; so to get out of her reach, we climbed up by this chair on the
+table to the top of the press, and there we were well enough for a little
+while, till somehow we began to quarrel about the old scissors, and we
+struggled hard for them till I got this cut."
+
+Here he unwound the handkerchief, and for the first time showed the
+wound, which he had never mentioned before.
+
+"Then," continued he, "when I got the cut, I shoved Victoire, and she
+pushed at me again, and I was keeping her off, and her foot slipped, and
+down she fell, and caught by the press-door, and pulled it and me after
+her, and that's all I know."
+
+"It is well that you were not both killed," said Madame de Fleury. "Are
+you often left locked up in this manner by yourselves, and without
+anything to do?"
+
+"Yes, always, when mamma is abroad, except sometimes we are let out upon
+the stairs or in the street; but mamma says we get into mischief there."
+
+This dialogue was interrupted by the return of the mother. She came
+upstairs slowly, much fatigued, and with a heavy bundle under her arm.
+
+"How now! Maurice, how comes my door open? What's all this?" cried she,
+in an angry voice; but seeing a lady sitting upon her child's bed, she
+stopped short in great astonishment. Madame de Fleury related what had
+happened, and averted her anger from Maurice by gently expostulating upon
+the hardship and hazard of leaving her young children in this manner
+during so many hours of the day.
+
+"Why, my lady," replied the poor woman, wiping her forehead, "every hard-
+working woman in Paris does the same with her children; and what can I do
+else? I must earn bread for these helpless ones, and to do that I must
+be out backwards and forwards, and to the furthest parts of the town,
+often from morning till night, with those that employ me; and I cannot
+afford to send the children to school, or to keep any kind of a servant
+to look after them; and when I'm away, if I let them run about these
+stairs and entries, or go into the streets, they do get a little exercise
+and air, to be sure, such as it is on which account I do let them out
+sometimes; but then a deal of mischief comes of that, too: they learn all
+kinds of wickedness, and would grow up to be no better than pickpockets,
+if they were let often to consort with the little vagabonds they find in
+the streets. So what to do better for them I don't know."
+
+The poor mother sat down upon the fallen press, looked at Victoire, and
+wept bitterly. Madame de Fleury was struck with compassion; but she did
+not satisfy her feelings merely by words or comfort or by the easy
+donation of some money--she resolved to do something more, and something
+better.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+  "Come often, then; for haply in my bower
+  Amusement, knowledge, wisdom, thou may'st gain:
+  If I one soul improve, I have not lived in vain."--BEATTIE.
+
+It is not so easy to do good as those who have never attempted it may
+imagine; and they who without consideration follow the mere instinct of
+pity, often by their imprudent generosity create evils more pernicious to
+society than any which they partially remedy. "Warm Charity, the general
+friend," may become the general enemy, unless she consults her head as
+well as her heart. Whilst she pleases herself with the idea that she
+daily feeds hundreds of the poor, she is perhaps preparing want and
+famine for thousands. Whilst she delights herself with the anticipation
+of gratitude for her bounties, she is often exciting only unreasonable
+expectations, inducing habits of dependence and submission to slavery.
+
+Those who wish to do good should attend to experience, from whom they may
+receive lessons upon the largest scale that time and numbers can afford.
+
+Madame de Fleury was aware that neither a benevolent disposition nor a
+large fortune were sufficient to enable her to be of real service,
+without the constant exercise of her judgment. She had, therefore,
+listened with deference to the conversation of well-informed men upon
+those subjects on which ladies have not always the means or the wish to
+acquire extensive and accurate knowledge. Though a Parisian belle, she
+had read with attention some of those books which are generally thought
+too dry or too deep for her sex. Consequently, her benevolence was
+neither wild in theory nor precipitate nor ostentatious in practice.
+
+Touched with compassion for a little girl whose arm had been accidentally
+broken, and shocked by the discovery of the confinement and the dangers
+to which numbers of children in Paris were doomed, she did not make a
+parade of her sensibility. She did not talk of her feelings in fine
+sentences to a circle of opulent admirers, nor did she project for the
+relief of the little sufferers some magnificent establishment which she
+could not execute or superintend. She was contented with attempting only
+what she had reasonable hopes of accomplishing.
+
+The gift of education she believed to be more advantageous than the gift
+of money to the poor, as it ensures the means both of future subsistence
+and happiness. But the application even of this incontrovertible
+principle requires caution and judgment. To crowd numbers of children
+into a place called a school, to abandon them to the management of any
+person called a schoolmaster or a schoolmistress, is not sufficient to
+secure the blessings of a good education. Madame de Fleury was sensible
+that the greatest care is necessary in the choice of the person to whom
+young children are to be entrusted; she knew that only a certain number
+can be properly directed by one superintendent, and that, by attempting
+to do too much, she might do nothing, or worse than nothing. Her school
+was formed, therefore, on a small scale, which she could enlarge to any
+extent, if it should be found to succeed. From some of the families of
+poor people, who, in earning their bread, are obliged to spend most of
+the day from home, she selected twelve little girls, of whom Victoire was
+the eldest, and she was between six and seven.
+
+The person under whose care Madame de Fleury wished to place these
+children was a nun of the _Soeurs de la Charite_, with whose simplicity
+of character, benevolence, and mild, steady temper she was thoroughly
+acquainted. Sister Frances was delighted with the plan. Any scheme that
+promised to be of service to her follow-creatures was sure of meeting
+with her approbation; but this suited her taste peculiarly, because she
+was extremely fond of children. No young person had ever boarded six
+months at her convent without becoming attached to good Sister Frances.
+
+The period of which we are writing was some years before convents were
+abolished; but the strictness of their rules had in many instances been
+considerably relaxed. Without much difficulty, permission was obtained
+from the abbess for our nun to devote her time during the day to the care
+of these poor children, upon condition that she should regularly return
+to her convent every night before evening prayers. The house which
+Madame de Fleury chose for her little school was in an airy part of the
+town; it did not face the street, but was separated from other buildings
+at the back of a court, retired from noise and bustle. The two rooms
+intended for the occupation of the children were neat and clean, but
+perfectly simple, with whitewashed walls, furnished only with wooden
+stools and benches, and plain deal tables. The kitchen was well lighted
+(for light is essential to cleanliness), and it was provided with
+utensils; and for these appropriate places were allotted, to give the
+habit and the taste of order. The schoolroom opened into a garden larger
+than is usually seen in towns. The nun, who had been accustomed to
+purchase provisions for her convent, undertook to prepare daily for the
+children breakfast and dinner; they were to sup and sleep at their
+respective homes. Their parents were to take them to Sister Frances
+every morning when they went out to work, and to call for them upon their
+return home every evening. By this arrangement, the natural ties of
+affection and intimacy between the children and their parents would not
+be loosened; they would be separate only at the time when their absence
+must be inevitable. Madame de Fleury thought that any education which
+estranges children entirely from their parents must be fundamentally
+erroneous; that such a separation must tend to destroy that sense of
+filial affection and duty, and those principles of domestic
+subordination, on which so many of the interests and much of the virtue
+and happiness of society depend. The parents of these poor children were
+eager to trust them to her care, and they strenuously endeavoured to
+promote what they perceived to be entirely to their advantage. They
+promised to take their daughters to school punctually every morning--a
+promise which was likely to be kept, as a good breakfast was to be ready
+at a certain hour, and not to wait for anybody. The parents looked
+forward with pleasure, also, to the idea of calling for their little
+girls at the end of their day's labour, and of taking them home to their
+family supper. During the intermediate hours the children were
+constantly to be employed, or in exercise. It was difficult to provide
+suitable employments for their early age; but even the youngest of those
+admitted could be taught to wind balls of cotton, thread, and silk for
+haberdashers; or they could shell peas and beans, &c., for a neighbouring
+_traiteur_; or they could weed in a garden. The next in age could learn
+knitting and plain work, reading, writing, and arithmetic. As the girls
+should grow up, they were to be made useful in the care of the house.
+Sister Frances said she could teach them to wash and iron, and that she
+would make them as skilful in cookery as she was herself. This last was
+doubtless a rash promise; for in most of the mysteries of the culinary
+art, especially in the medical branches of it, in making savoury messes
+palatable to the sick, few could hope to equal the neat-handed Sister
+Frances. She had a variety of other accomplishments; but her humility
+and good sense forbade her upon the present occasion to mention these.
+She said nothing of embroidery, or of painting, or of cutting out paper,
+or of carving in ivory, though in all these she excelled: her cuttings-
+out in paper were exquisite as the finest lace; her embroidered
+housewives, and her painted boxes, and her fan-mounts, and her curiously-
+wrought ivory toys, had obtained for her the highest reputation in the
+convent amongst the best judges in the world. Those only who have
+philosophically studied and thoroughly understand the nature of fame and
+vanity can justly appreciate the self-denial or magnanimity of Sister
+Frances, in forbearing to enumerate or boast of these things. She
+alluded to them but once, and in the slightest and most humble manner.
+
+"These little creatures are too young for us to think of teaching them
+anything but plain work at present; but if hereafter any of them should
+show a superior genius we can cultivate it properly. Heaven has been
+pleased to endow me with the means--at least, our convent says so."
+
+The actions of Sister Frances showed as much moderation as her words; for
+though she was strongly tempted to adorn her new dwelling with those
+specimens of her skill which had long been the glory of her apartment in
+the convent, yet she resisted the impulse, and contented herself with
+hanging over the chimney-piece of her schoolroom a Madonna of her own
+painting.
+
+The day arrived when she was to receive her pupils in their new
+habitation. When the children entered the room for the first time, they
+paid the Madonna the homage of their unfeigned admiration. Involuntarily
+the little crowd stopped short at the sight of the picture. Some dormant
+emotions of human vanity were now awakened--played for a moment about the
+heart of Sister Frances--and may be forgiven. Her vanity was innocent
+and transient, her benevolence permanent and useful. Repressing the vain-
+glory of an artist, as she fixed her eyes upon the Madonna, her thoughts
+rose to higher objects, and she seized this happy moment to impress upon
+the minds of her young pupils their first religious ideas and feelings.
+There was such unaffected piety in her manner, such goodness in her
+countenance, such persuasion in her voice, and simplicity in her words,
+that the impression she made was at once serious, pleasing, and not to be
+effaced. Much depends upon the moment and the manner in which the first
+notions of religion are communicated to children; if these ideas be
+connected with terror, and produced when the mind is sullen or in a state
+of dejection, the future religious feelings are sometimes of a gloomy,
+dispiriting sort; but if the first impression be made when the heart is
+expanded by hope or touched by affection, these emotions are happily and
+permanently associated with religion. This should be particularly
+attended to by those who undertake the instruction of the children of the
+poor, who must lead a life of labour, and can seldom have leisure or
+inclination, when arrived at years of discretion, to re-examine the
+principles early infused into their minds. They cannot in their riper
+age conquer by reason those superstitions terrors, or bigoted prejudices,
+which render their victims miserable, or perhaps criminal. To attempt to
+rectify any errors in the foundation after an edifice has been
+constructed is dangerous: the foundation, therefore, should be laid with
+care. The religious opinions of Sister Frances were strictly united with
+just rules of morality, strongly enforcing, as the essential means of
+obtaining present and future happiness, the practice of the social
+virtues, so that no good or wise persons, however they might differ from
+her in modes of faith, could doubt the beneficial influence of her
+general principles, or disapprove of the manner in which they were
+inculcated.
+
+Detached from every other worldly interest, this benevolent nun devoted
+all her earthly thoughts to the children of whom she had undertaken the
+charge. She watched over them with unceasing vigilance, whilst
+diffidence of her own abilities was happily supported by her high opinion
+of Madame de Fleury's judgment. This lady constantly visited her pupils
+every week; not in the hasty, negligent manner in which fine ladies
+sometimes visit charitable institutions, imagining that the honour of
+their presence is to work miracles, and that everything will go on
+rightly when they have said, "_Let it be so_," or, "_I must have it so_."
+Madame de Fleury's visits were not of this dictatorial or cursory nature.
+Not minutes, but hours, she devoted to these children--she who could
+charm by the grace of her manners, and delight by the elegance of her
+conversation, the most polished circles and the best-informed societies
+of Paris, preferred to the glory of being admired the pleasure of being
+useful:--
+
+  "Her life, as lovely as her face,
+  Each duty mark'd with every grace;
+  Her native sense improved by reading,
+  Her native sweetness by good breeding."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+  "Ah me! how much I fear lest pride it be;
+  But if that pride it be which thus inspires,
+  Beware, ye dames! with nice discernment see
+  Ye quench not too the sparks of nobler fires."
+
+  SHENSTONE.
+
+By repeated observation, and by attending to the minute reports of Sister
+Frances, Madame de Fleury soon became acquainted with the habits and
+temper of each individual in this little society. The most intelligent
+and the most amiable of these children was Victoire. Whence her
+superiority arose, whether her abilities were naturally more vivacious
+than those of her companions, or whether they had been more early
+developed by accidental excitation, we cannot pretend to determine, lest
+we should involve ourselves in the intricate question respecting natural
+genius--a metaphysical point, which we shall not in this place stop to
+discuss. Till the world has an accurate philosophical dictionary (a work
+not to be expected in less than half a dozen centuries), this question
+will never be decided to general satisfaction. In the meantime we may
+proceed with our story.
+
+Deep was the impression made on Victoire's heart by the kindness that
+Madame de Fleury showed her at the time her arm was broken; and her
+gratitude was expressed with all the enthusiastic fondness of childhood.
+Whenever she spoke or heard of Madame de Fleury her countenance became
+interested and animated in a degree that would have astonished a cool
+English spectator. Every morning her first question to Sister Frances
+was: "Will _she_ come to-day?" If Madame de Fleury was expected, the
+hours and the minutes were counted, and the sand in the hour-glass that
+stood on the schoolroom table was frequently shaken. The moment she
+appeared Victoire ran to her, and was silent; satisfied with standing
+close beside her, holding her gown when unperceived, and watching, as she
+spoke and moved, every turn of her countenance. Delighted by these marks
+of sensibility, Sister Frances would have praised the child, but was
+warned by Madame de Fleury to refrain from injudicious eulogiums, lest
+she should teach her affectation.
+
+"If I must not praise, you will permit me at least to love her," said
+Sister Frances.
+
+Her affection for Victoire was increased by compassion: during two months
+the poor child's arm hung in a sling, so that she could not venture to
+play with her companions. At their hours of recreation she used to sit
+on the schoolroom steps, looking down into the garden at the scene of
+merriment in which she could not partake.
+
+For those who know how to find it, there is good in everything. Sister
+Frances used to take her seat on the steps, sometimes with her work and
+sometimes with a book; and Victoire, tired of being quite idle, listened
+with eagerness to the stories which Sister Frances read, or watched with
+interest the progress of her work; soon she longed to imitate what she
+saw done with so much pleasure, and begged to be taught to work and read.
+By degrees she learned her alphabet, and could soon, to the amazement of
+her schoolfellows, read the names of all the animals in Sister Frances'
+picture-book. No matter how trifling the thing done, or the knowledge
+acquired, a great point is gained by giving the desire for employment.
+Children frequently become industrious from impatience of the pains and
+penalties of idleness. Count Rumford showed that he understood childish
+nature perfectly well when, in his House of Industry at Munich, he
+compelled the young children to sit for some time idle in a gallery round
+the hall, where others a little older than themselves were busied at
+work. During Victoire's state of idle convalescence she acquired the
+desire to be employed, and she consequently soon became more industrious
+than her neighbours. Succeeding in her first efforts, she was
+praised--was pleased, and persevered till she became an example of
+activity to her companions. But Victoire, though now nearly seven years
+old, was not quite perfect. Naturally, or accidentally, she was very
+passionate, and not a little self-willed.
+
+One day being mounted, horsemanlike, with whip in hand, upon the banister
+of the flight of stairs leading from the schoolroom to the garden, she
+called in a tone of triumph to her playfellows, desiring them to stand
+out of the way, and see her slide from top to bottom. At this moment
+Sister Frances came to the schoolroom door and forbade the feat; but
+Victoire, regardless of all prohibition, slid down instantly, and
+moreover was going to repeat the glorious operation, when Sister Frances,
+catching hold of her arm, pointed to a heap of sharp stones that lay on
+the ground upon the other side of the banisters.
+
+"I am not afraid," said Victoire.
+
+"But if you fall there, you may break your arm again."
+
+"And if I do, I can bear it," said Victoire. "Let me go, pray let me go:
+I must do it."
+
+"No; I forbid you, Victoire, to slide down again. Babet and all the
+little ones would follow your example, and perhaps break their necks."
+
+The nun, as she spoke, attempted to compel Victoire to dismount; but she
+was so much of a heroine, that she would do nothing upon compulsion.
+Clinging fast to the banisters, she resisted with all her might; she
+kicked and screamed, and screamed and kicked, but at last her feet were
+taken prisoners; then grasping the railway with one hand, with the other
+she brandished high the little whip.
+
+"What!" said the mild nun, "would you strike me with that _arm_?"
+
+The arm dropped instantly--Victoire recollected Madame de Fleury's
+kindness the day when the arm was broken; dismounting immediately, she
+threw herself upon her knees in the midst of the crowd of young
+spectators, and begged pardon of Sister Frances. For the rest of the day
+she was as gentle as a lamb; nay, some assert that the effects of her
+contrition were visible during the remainder of the week.
+
+Having thus found the secret of reducing the little rebel to obedience by
+touching her on the tender point of gratitude, the nun had recourse to
+this expedient in all perilous cases; but one day, when she was boasting
+of the infallible operation of her charm, Madame de Fleury advised her to
+forbear recurring to it frequently, lest she should wear out the
+sensibility she so much loved. In consequence of this counsel,
+Victoire's violence of temper was sometimes reduced by force and
+sometimes corrected by reason; but the principle and the feeling of
+gratitude were not exhausted or weakened in the struggle. The hope of
+reward operated upon her generous mind more powerfully than the fear of
+punishment; and Madame de Fleury devised rewards with as much ability as
+some legislators invent punishments.
+
+Victoire's brother Maurice, who was now of an age to earn his own bread,
+had a strong desire to be bound apprentice to the smith who worked in the
+house where his mother lodged. This most ardent wish of his soul he had
+imparted to his sister; and she consulted her benefactress, whom she
+considered as all-powerful in this, as in every other affair.
+
+"Your brother's wish shall be gratified," replied Madame de Fleury, "if
+you can keep your temper one month. If you are never in a passion for a
+whole month, I will undertake that your brother shall be bound apprentice
+to his friend the smith. To your companions, to Sister Frances, and
+above all to yourself, I trust, to make me a just report this day month."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+  "You she preferred to all the gay resorts,
+  Where female vanity might wish to shine,
+  The pomp of cities, and the pride of courts."
+
+  LYTTELTON.
+
+At the end of the time prescribed, the judges, including Victoire
+herself, who was the most severe of them all, agreed she had justly
+deserved her reward. Maurice obtained his wish; and Victoire's temper
+never relapsed into its former bad habits--so powerful is the effect of a
+well-chosen motive! Perhaps the historian may be blamed for dwelling on
+such trivial anecdotes; yet a lady, who was accustomed to the
+conversation of deep philosophers and polished courtiers, listened
+without disdain to these simple annals. Nothing appeared to her a trifle
+that could tend to form the habits of temper, truth, honesty, order, and
+industry: habits which are to be early induced, not by solemn precepts,
+but by practical lessons. A few more examples of these shall be
+recorded, notwithstanding the fear of being tiresome.
+
+One day little Babet, who was now five years old, saw, as she was coming
+to school, an old woman sitting at a corner of the street beside a large
+black brazier full of roasted chestnuts. Babet thought that the
+chestnuts looked and smelled very good; the old woman was talking
+earnestly to some people, who were on her other side; Babet filled her
+work-bag with chestnuts, and then ran after her mother and sister, who,
+having turned the corner of the street, had not seen what passed. When
+Babet came to the schoolroom, she opened her bag with triumph, displayed
+her treasure, and offered to divide it with her companions. "Here,
+Victoire," said she, "here is the largest chestnut for you."
+
+But Victoire would not take it; for she said that Babet had no money,
+and that she could not have come honestly by these chestnuts. She spoke
+so forcibly upon this point that even those who had the tempting morsel
+actually at their lips forbore to bite; those who had bitten laid down
+their half-eaten prize; and those who had their hands full of chestnuts
+rolled them back again towards the bag. Babet cried with vexation.
+
+"I burned my fingers in getting them for you, and now you won't eat
+them!--And I must not eat them!" said she: then curbing her passion, she
+added, "But at any rate, I won't be a thief. I am sure I did not think
+it was being a thief just to take a few chestnuts from an old woman who
+had such heaps and heaps; but Victoire says it is wrong, and I would not
+be a thief for all the chestnuts in the world--I'll throw them all into
+the fire this minute!"
+
+"No; give them back again to the old woman," said Victoire.
+
+"But, may be, she would scold me for having taken them," said Babet; "or
+who knows but she might whip me?"
+
+"And if she did, could you not bear it?" said Victoire. "I am sure I
+would rather bear twenty whippings than be a thief."
+
+"Twenty, whippings! that's a great many," said Babet; "and I am so
+little, consider--and that woman has such a monstrous arm!--Now, if it
+was Sister Frances, it would be another thing. But come! if you will go
+with me, Victoire, you shall see how I will behave."
+
+"We will all go with you," said Victoire.
+
+"Yes, all!" said the children; "And Sister Frances, I dare say, would go,
+if you asked her."
+
+Babet ran and told her, and she readily consented to accompany the little
+penitent to make restitution. The chestnut woman did not whip Babet, nor
+even scold her, but said she was sure that since the child was so honest
+as to return what she had taken, she would never steal again. This was
+the most glorious day of Babet's life, and the happiest. When the
+circumstance was told to Madame de Fleury, she gave the little girl a bag
+of the best chestnuts the old women could select, and Babet with great
+delight shared her reward with her companions.
+
+"But, alas! these chestnuts are not roasted. Oh, if we could but roast
+them!" said the children.
+
+Sister Frances placed in the middle of the table on which the chestnuts
+were spread a small earthenware furnace--a delightful toy, commonly used
+by children in Paris to cook their little feasts.
+
+"This can be bought for sixpence," said she: "and if each of you twelve
+earn one halfpenny apiece to-day, you can purchase it to-night, and I
+will put a little fire into it, and you will then be able to roast your
+chestnuts."
+
+The children ran eagerly to their work--some to wind worsted for a woman
+who paid them a _liard_ for each ball, others to shell peas for a
+neighbouring _traiteur_--all rejoicing that they were able to earn
+something. The older girls, under the directions and with the assistance
+of Sister Frances, completed making, washing, and ironing, half a dozen
+little caps, to supply a baby-linen warehouse. At the end of the day,
+when the sum of the produce of their labours was added together, they
+were surprised to find that, instead of one, they could purchase two
+furnaces. They received and enjoyed the reward of their united industry.
+The success of their first efforts was fixed in their memory: for they
+were very happy roasting the chestnuts, and they were all (Sister Frances
+inclusive) unanimous in opinion that no chestnuts ever were so good, or
+so well roasted. Sister Frances always partook in their little innocent
+amusements; and it was her great delight to be the dispenser of rewards
+which at once conferred present pleasure and cherished future virtue.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+  "To virtue wake the pulses of the heart,
+  And bid the tear of emulation start."
+
+  ROGERS.
+
+Victoire, who gave constant exercise to the benevolent feelings of the
+amiable nun, became every day more dear to her. Far from having the
+selfishness of a favourite, Victoire loved to bring into public notice
+the good actions of her companions. "Stoop down your ear to me, Sister
+Frances," said she, "and I will tell you a secret--I will tell you why my
+friend Annette is growing so thin--I found it out this morning--she does
+not eat above half her soup every day. Look, there's her porringer
+covered up in the corner--she carries it home to her mother, who is sick,
+and who has not bread to eat."
+
+Madame de Fleury came in whilst Sister Frances was yet bending down to
+hear this secret; it was repeated to her, and she immediately ordered
+that a certain allowance of bread should be given to Annette every day to
+carry to her mother during her illness.
+
+"I give it in charge to you, Victoire, to remember this, and I am sure it
+will never be forgotten. Here is an order for you upon my baker: run and
+show it to Annette. This is a pleasure you deserve; I am glad that you
+have chosen for your friend a girl who is so good a daughter. Good
+daughters make good friends."
+
+By similar instances of goodness Victoire obtained the love and
+confidence of her companions, notwithstanding her manifest superiority.
+In their turn, they were eager to proclaim her merits; and, as Sister
+Frances and Madame de Fleury administered justice with invariable
+impartiality, the hateful passions of envy and jealousy were never
+excited in this little society. No servile sycophant, no malicious
+detractor, could rob or defraud their little virtues of their due reward.
+
+"Whom shall I trust to take this to Madame de Fleury?" said Sister
+Frances, carrying into the garden where the children were playing a pot
+of fine jonquils, which she had brought from her convent.--"These are the
+first jonquils I have seen this year, and finer I never beheld! Whom
+shall I trust to take them to Madame de Fleury this evening?--It must be
+some one who will not stop to stare about on the way, but who will be
+very, very careful--some one in whom I can place perfect dependence."
+
+"It must be Victoire, then," cried every voice.
+
+"Yes, she deserves it to-day particularly," said Annette eagerly;
+"because she was not angry with Babet when she did what was enough to put
+anybody in a passion. Sister Frances, you know this cherry-tree which
+you grafted for Victoire last year, and that was yesterday so full of
+blossoms--now you see, there is not a blossom left!--Babet plucked them
+all this morning to make a nosegay."
+
+"But she did not know," said Victoire, "that pulling off the blossoms
+would prevent my having any cherries."
+
+"Oh, I am very sorry I was so foolish," said Babet; "Victoire did not
+even say a cross word to me."
+
+"Though she was excessively anxious about the cherries," pursued Annette,
+"because she intended to have given the first she had to Madame de
+Fleury."
+
+"Victoire, take the jonquils--it is but just," said Sister Frances. "How
+I do love to hear them all praise her!--I knew what she would be from the
+first."
+
+With a joyful heart Victoire took the jonquils, promised to carry them
+with the utmost care, and not to stop to stare on the way. She set out
+to Madame de Fleury's hotel, which was in _La Place de Louis Quinze_. It
+was late in the evening, the lamps were lighting, and as Victoire crossed
+the Pont de Louis Seize, she stopped to look at the reflection of the
+lamps in the water, which appeared in succession, as they were lighted,
+spreading as if by magic along the river. While Victoire leaned over the
+battlements of the bridge, watching the rising of these stars of fire, a
+sudden push from the elbow of some rude passenger precipitated her pot of
+jonquils into the Seine. The sound it made in the water was thunder to
+the ear of Victoire; she stood for an instant vainly hoping it would rise
+again, but the waters had closed over it for ever.
+
+  "Dans cet etat affreux, que faire?
+  . . . Mon devoir."
+
+Victoire courageously proceeded to Madame de Fleury's, and desired to see
+her.
+
+"D'abord c'est impossible--madame is dressing to go to a concert," said
+Francois. "Cannot you leave your message?"
+
+"Oh no," said Victoire; "it is of great consequence--I must see her
+myself; and she is so good, and you too, Monsieur Francois, that I am
+sure you will not refuse."
+
+"Well, I remember one day you found the seal of my watch, which I dropped
+at your schoolroom door--one good turn deserves another. If it is
+possible it shall be done--I will inquire of madame's woman."--"Follow me
+upstairs," said he, returning in a few minutes; "madame will see you."
+
+She followed him up the large staircase, and through a suite of
+apartments sufficiently grand to intimidate her young imagination.
+
+"Madame est dans son cabinet. Entrez--mais entrez donc, entrez
+toujours."
+
+Madame de Fleury was more richly dressed than usual; and her image was
+reflected in the large looking-glass, so that at the first moment
+Victoire thought she saw many fine ladies, but not one of them the lady
+she wanted.
+
+"Well, Victoire, my child, what is the matter?"
+
+"Oh, it is her voice!--I know you now, madame, and I am not afraid--not
+afraid even to tell you how foolish I have been. Sister Frances trusted
+me to carry for you, madame, a beautiful pot of jonquils, and she desired
+me not to stop on the way to stare; but I did stop to look at the lamps
+on the bridge, and I forgot the jonquils, and somebody brushed by me and
+threw them into the river--and I am very sorry I was so foolish."
+
+"And I am very glad that you are so wise as to tell the truth, without
+attempting to make any paltry excuses. Go home to Sister Frances, and
+assure her that I am more obliged to her for making you such an honest
+girl than I could be for a whole bed of jonquils."
+
+Victoire's heart was so full that she could not speak--she kissed Madame
+de Fleury's hand in silence, and then seemed to be lost in contemplation
+of her bracelet.
+
+"Are you thinking, Victoire, that you should be much happier if you had
+such bracelets as these? Believe me, you are mistaken if you think so;
+many people are unhappy who wear fine bracelets; so, my child, content
+yourself."
+
+"Myself! Oh, madame, I was not thinking of myself--I was not wishing for
+bracelets; I was only thinking that--"
+
+"That what?"
+
+"That it is a pity you are so very rich; you have everything in this
+world that you want, and I can never be of the least use to _you_--all my
+life I shall never be able to do _you_ any good--and what," said
+Victoire, turning away to hide her tears, "what signifies the gratitude
+of such a poor little creature as I am?"
+
+"Did you never hear the fable of the lion and the mouse, Victoire?"
+
+"No, madame--never!"
+
+"Then I will tell it to you."
+
+Victoire looked up with eyes of eager expectation--Francois opened the
+door to announce that the Marquis de M--- and the Comte de S--- were in
+the saloon; but Madame de Fleury stayed to tell Victoire her fable--she
+would not lose the opportunity of making an impression upon this child's
+heart.
+
+It is whilst the mind is warm that the deepest impressions can be made.
+Seizing the happy moment sometimes decides the character and the fate of
+a child. In this respect, what advantages have the rich and great in
+educating the children of the poor! they have the power which their rank
+and all its decorations obtain over the imagination. Their smiles are
+favours; their words are listened to as oracular; they are looked up to
+as beings of a superior order. Their powers of working good are almost
+as great, though not quite so wonderful, as those formerly attributed to
+beneficent fairies.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+  "Knowledge for them unlocks her _useful_ page,
+  And virtue blossoms for a better age."--BARBAULD.
+
+A few days after Madame de Fleury had told Victoire the fable of the lion
+and the mouse, she was informed by Sister Frances that Victoire had put
+the fable into verse. It was wonderfully well done for a child of nine
+years old, and Madame de Fleury was tempted to praise the lines; but,
+checking the enthusiasm of the moment, she considered whether it would be
+advantageous to cultivate her pupil's talent for poetry. Excellence in
+the poetic art cannot be obtained without a degree of application for
+which a girl in her situation could not have leisure. To encourage her
+to become a mere rhyming scribbler, without any chance of obtaining
+celebrity or securing subsistence, would be folly and cruelty. Early
+prodigies in the lower ranks of life are seldom permanently successful;
+they are cried up one day, and cried down the next. Their productions
+rarely have that superiority which secures a fair preference in the great
+literary market. Their performances are, perhaps, said to be _wonderful,
+all things considered_, &c. Charitable allowances are made; the books
+are purchased by associations of complaisant friends or opulent patrons;
+a kind of forced demand is raised, but this can be only temporary and
+delusive. In spite of bounties and of all the arts of protection,
+nothing but what is intrinsically good will long be preferred, when it
+must be purchased. But granting that positive excellence is attained,
+there is always danger that for works of fancy the taste of the public
+may suddenly vary: there is a fashion in these things; and when the mode
+changes, the mere literary manufacturer is thrown out of employment; he
+is unable to turn his hand to another trade, or to any but his own
+peculiar branch of the business. The powers of the mind are often
+partially cultivated in these self-taught geniuses. We often see that
+one part of their understanding is nourished to the prejudice of the
+rest--the imagination, for instance, at the expense of the judgment: so
+that whilst they have acquired talents for show they have none for use.
+In the affairs of common life they are utterly ignorant and imbecile--or
+worse than imbecile. Early called into public notice, probably before
+their moral habits are formed, they are extolled for some play of fancy
+or of wit, as Bacon calls it, some juggler's trick of the intellect; they
+immediately take an aversion to plodding labour, they feel raised above
+their situation; possessed by the notion that genius exempts them not
+only from labour, but from vulgar rules of prudence, they soon disgrace
+themselves by their conduct, are deserted by their patrons, and sink into
+despair or plunge into profligacy.
+
+Convinced of these melancholy truths, Madame de Fleury was determined not
+to add to the number of those imprudent or ostentatious patrons, who
+sacrifice to their own amusement and vanity the future happiness of their
+favourites. Victoire's verses were not handed about in fashionable
+circles, nor was she called upon to recite them before a brilliant
+audience, nor was she produced in public as a prodigy; she was educated
+in private, and by slow and sure degrees, to be a good, useful, and happy
+member of society. Upon the same principles which decided Madame de
+Fleury against encouraging Victoire to be a poetess, she refrained from
+giving any of her little pupils accomplishments unsuited to their
+situation. Some had a fine ear for music, others showed powers of
+dancing; but they were taught neither dancing nor music--talents which in
+their station were more likely to be dangerous than serviceable. They
+were not intended for actresses or opera-girls, but for shop-girls,
+mantua-makers, work-women, and servants of different sorts; consequently
+they were instructed in things which would be most necessary and useful
+to young women in their rank of life. Before they were ten years old
+they could do all kinds of plain needlework, they could read and write
+well, and they were mistresses of the common rules of arithmetic. After
+this age they were practised by a writing-master in drawing out bills
+neatly, keeping accounts, and applying to every-day use their knowledge
+of arithmetic. Some were taught by a laundress to wash and get up fine
+linen and lace; others were instructed by a neighbouring traiteur in
+those culinary mysteries with which Sister Frances was unacquainted. In
+sweetmeats and confectioneries she yielded to no one; and she made her
+pupils as expert as herself. Those who were intended for ladies' maids
+were taught mantua-making, and had lessons from Madame de Fleury's own
+woman in hairdressing.
+
+Amongst her numerous friends and acquaintances, and amongst the
+shopkeepers whom she was in the habit of employing, Madame de Fleury had
+means of placing and establishing her pupils suitably and advantageously:
+of this, both they and their parents were aware, so that there was a
+constant and great motive operating continually to induce them to exert
+themselves, and to behave well. This reasonable hope of reaping the
+fruits of their education, and of being immediately rewarded for their
+good conduct; this perception of the connection between what they are
+taught and what they are to become, is necessary to make young people
+assiduous; for want of attending to these principles many splendid
+establishments have failed to produce pupils answerable to the
+expectations which had been formed of them.
+
+During seven years that Madame de Fleury persevered uniformly on the same
+plan, only one girl forfeited her protection--a girl of the name of
+Manon; she was Victoire's cousin, but totally unlike her in character.
+
+When very young, her beautiful eyes and hair caught the fancy of a rich
+lady, who took her into her family as a sort of humble playfellow for her
+children. She was taught to dance and to sing: she soon excelled in
+these accomplishments, and was admired, and produced as a prodigy of
+talent. The lady of the house gave herself great credit for having
+discerned, and having brought forward, such talents. Manon's moral
+character was in the meantime neglected. In this house, where there was
+a constant scene of hurry and dissipation, the child had frequent
+opportunities and temptations to be dishonest. For some time she was not
+detected; her caressing manners pleased her patroness, and servile
+compliance with the humours of the children of the family secured their
+goodwill. Encouraged by daily petty successes in the art of deceit, she
+became a complete hypocrite. With culpable negligence, her mistress
+trusted implicitly to appearances; and without examining whether she were
+really honest, she suffered her to have free access to unlocked drawers
+and valuable cabinets. Several articles of dress were missed from time
+to time; but Manon managed so artfully, that she averted from herself all
+suspicion. Emboldened by this fatal impunity, she at last attempted
+depredations of more importance. She purloined a valuable snuff-box--was
+detected in disposing of the broken parts of it at a pawnbroker's, and
+was immediately discarded in disgrace; but by her tears and vehement
+expressions of remorse she so far worked upon the weakness of the lady of
+the house as to prevail upon her to conceal the circumstance that
+occasioned her dismissal. Some months afterwards, Manon, pleading that
+she was thoroughly reformed, obtained from this lady a recommendation to
+Madame de Fleury's school. It is wonderful that, people, who in other
+respects profess and practise integrity, can be so culpably weak as to
+give good characters to those who do not deserve them: this is really one
+of the worst species of forgery. Imposed upon by this treacherous
+recommendation, Madame de Fleury received into the midst of her innocent
+young pupils one who might have corrupted their minds secretly and
+irrecoverably. Fortunately a discovery was made in time of Manon's real
+disposition. A mere trifle led to the detection of her habits of
+falsehood. As she could not do any kind of needlework, she was employed
+in winding cotton; she was negligent, and did not in the course of the
+week wind the same number of balls as her companions; and to conceal
+this, she pretended that she had delivered the proper number to the
+woman, who regularly called at the end of the week for the cotton. The
+woman persisted in her account, and the children in theirs; and Manon
+would not retract her assertion. The poor woman gave up the point; but
+she declared that she would the next time send her brother to make up the
+account, because he was sharper than herself, and would not be imposed
+upon so easily. The ensuing week the brother came, and he proved to be
+the very pawnbroker to whom Manon formerly offered the stolen box: he
+knew her immediately; it was in vain that she attempted to puzzle him,
+and to persuade him that she was not the same person. The man was clear
+and firm. Sister Frances could scarcely believe what she heard. Struck
+with horror, the children shrank back from Manon, and stood in silence.
+Madame de Fleury immediately wrote to the lady who had recommended this
+girl, and inquired into the truth of the pawnbroker's assertions. The
+lady, who had given Manon a false character, could not deny the facts,
+and could apologise for herself only by saying that "she believed the
+girl to be partly reformed, and that she hoped, under Madame de Fleury's
+judicious care, she would become an amiable and respectable woman."
+
+Madame de Fleury, however, wisely judged that the hazard of corrupting
+all her pupils should not be incurred for the slight chance of correcting
+one, whose bad habits were of such long standing. Manon was expelled
+from this happy little community--even Sister Frances, the most mild of
+human beings, could never think of the danger to which they had been
+exposed without expressing indignation against the lady who recommended
+such a girl as a fit companion for her blameless and beloved pupils.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+  "Alas! regardless of their doom,
+  The little victims play:
+  No sense have they of ills to come,
+  No care beyond to-day."--GRAY.
+
+Good legislators always attend to the habits, and what is called the
+genius, of the people they have to govern. From youth to age, the taste
+for whatever is called _une fete_ pervades the whole French nation.
+Madame de Fleury availed herself judiciously of this powerful motive, and
+connected it with the feelings of affection more than with the passion
+for show. For instance, when any of her little people had done anything
+particularly worthy of reward, she gave them leave to invite their
+parents to a _fete_ prepared for them by their children, assisted by the
+kindness of Sister Frances.
+
+One day--it was a holiday obtained by Victoire's good conduct--all the
+children prepared in their garden a little feast for their parents.
+Sister Frances spread the table with a bountiful hand, the happy fathers
+and mothers were waited upon by their children, and each in their turn
+heard with delight from the benevolent nun some instance of their
+daughter's improvement. Full of hope for the future and of gratitude for
+the past, these honest people ate and talked, whilst in imagination they
+saw their children all prosperously and usefully settled in the world.
+They blessed Madame de Fleury in her absence, and they wished ardently
+for her presence.
+
+"The sun is setting, and Madame de Fleury is not yet come," cried
+Victoire; "she said she would be here this evening--What can be the
+matter?"
+
+"Nothing is the matter, you may be sure," said Babet; "but that she has
+forgotten us--she has so many things to think of."
+
+"Yes; but I know she never forgets us," said Victoire; "and she loves so
+much to see us all happy together, that I am sure it must be something
+very extraordinary that detains her."
+
+Babet laughed at Victoire's fears; but presently even she began to grow
+impatient; for they waited long after sunset, expecting every moment that
+Madame de Fleury would arrive. At last she appeared, but with a dejected
+countenance, which seemed to justify Victoire's foreboding. When she saw
+this festive company, each child sitting between her parents, and all at
+her entrance looking up with affectionate pleasure, a faint smile
+enlivened her countenance for a moment; but she did not speak to them
+with her usual ease. Her mind seemed preoccupied by some disagreeable
+business of importance. It appeared that it had some connection with
+them; for as she walked round the table with Sister Frances, she said,
+with a voice and look of great tenderness, "Poor children! how happy they
+are at this moment!--Heaven only knows how soon they may be rendered, or
+may render themselves, miserable!"
+
+None of the children could imagine what this meant; but their parents
+guessed that it had some allusion to the state of public affairs. About
+this time some of those discontents had broken out which preceded the
+terrible days of the Revolution. As yet, most of the common people, who
+were honestly employed in earning their own living, neither understood
+what was going on nor foresaw what was to happen. Many of their
+superiors were not in such happy ignorance--they had information of the
+intrigues that were forming; and the more penetration they possessed, the
+more they feared the consequences of events which they could not control.
+At the house of a great man, with whom she had dined this day, Madame de
+Fleury had heard alarming news. Dreadful public disturbances, she saw,
+were inevitable; and whilst she trembled for the fate of all who were
+dear to her, these poor children had a share in her anxiety. She foresaw
+the temptations, the dangers, to which they must be exposed, whether they
+abandoned, or whether they abided by the principles their education had
+instilled. She feared that the labour of years would perhaps be lost in
+an instant, or that her innocent pupils would fall victims even to their
+virtues.
+
+Many of these young people were now of an age to understand and to govern
+themselves by reason; and with these she determined to use those
+preventive measures which reason affords. Without meddling with
+politics, in which no amiable or sensible woman can wish to interfere,
+the influence of ladies in the higher ranks of life may always be exerted
+with perfect propriety, and with essential advantage to the public, in
+conciliating the inferior classes of society, explaining to them their
+duties and their interests, and impressing upon the minds of the children
+of the poor sentiments of just subordination and honest independence. How
+happy would it have been for France if women of fortune and abilities had
+always exerted their talents and activity in this manner, instead of
+wasting their powers in futile declamations, or in the intrigues of
+party!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+  "E'en now the devastation is begun,
+  And half the business of destruction done."
+
+  GOLDSMITH.
+
+Madame de Fleury was not disappointed in her pupils. When the public
+disturbances began, these children were shocked by the horrible actions
+they saw. Instead of being seduced by bad example, they only showed
+anxiety to avoid companions of their own age who were dishonest, idle, or
+profligate. Victoire's cousin Manon ridiculed these absurd principles,
+as she called them, and endeavoured to persuade Victoire that she would
+be much happier if she followed the fashion.
+
+"What! Victoire, still with your work-bag on your arm, and still going
+to school with your little sister, though you are but a year younger than
+I am, I believe!--thirteen last birthday, were not you?--Mon Dieu! Why,
+how long do you intend to be a child? and why don't you leave that old
+nun, who keeps you in leading-strings?--I assure you, nuns, and school-
+mistresses, and schools, and all that sort of thing, are out of fashion
+now--we have abolished all that--we are to live a life of reason now--and
+all soon to be equal, I can tell you; let your Madame de Fleury look to
+that, and look to it yourself; for with all your wisdom, you might find
+yourself in the wrong box by sticking to her, and that side of the
+question.--Disengage yourself from her, I advise you, as soon as you
+can.--My dear Victoire! believe me, you may spell very well--but you know
+nothing of the rights of man, or the rights of woman."
+
+"I do not pretend to know anything of the rights of men, or the rights of
+women," cried Victoire; "but this I know: that I never can or will be
+ungrateful to Madame de Fleury. Disengage myself from her! I am bound
+to her for ever, and I will abide by her till the last hour I breathe."
+
+"Well, well! there is no occasion to be in a passion--I only speak as a
+friend, and I have no more time to reason with you; for I must go home,
+and get ready my dress for the ball to-night."
+
+"Manon, how can you afford to buy a dress for a ball?"
+
+"As you might, if you had common sense, Victoire--only by being a good
+citizen. I and a party of us denounced a milliner and a confectioner in
+our neighbourhood, who were horrible aristocrats; and of their goods
+forfeited to the nation we had, as was our just share, such delicious
+_marangues_ and charming ribands!--Oh, Victoire, believe me, you will
+never get such things by going to school, or saying your prayers either.
+You may look with as much scorn and indignation as you please, but I
+advise you to let it alone, for all that is out of fashion, and may,
+moreover, bring you into difficulties. Believe me, my dear Victoire,
+your head is not deep enough to understand these things--you know nothing
+of politics."
+
+"But I know the difference between right and wrong, Manon: politics can
+never alter that, you know."
+
+"Never alter that! there you are quite mistaken," said Manon. "I cannot
+stay to convince you now--but this I can tell you: that I know secrets
+that you don't suspect."
+
+"I do not wish to know any of your secrets, Manon," said Victoire,
+proudly.
+
+"Your pride may be humbled, Citoyenne Victoire, sooner than you expect,"
+exclaimed Manon, who was now so provoked by her cousin's contempt that
+she could not refrain from boasting of her political knowledge. "I can
+tell you that your fine friends will in a few days not be able to protect
+you. The Abbe Tracassier is in love with a dear friend of mine, and I
+know all the secrets of state from her--and I know what I know. Be as
+incredulous as you please, but you will see that, before this week is at
+end, Monsieur de Fleury will be guillotined, and then what will become of
+you? Good morning, my proud cousin."
+
+Shocked by what she had just heard, Victoire could scarcely believe that
+Manon was in earnest; she resolved, however, to go immediately and
+communicate this intelligence, whether true or false, to Madame de
+Fleury. It agreed but too well with other circumstances, which alarmed
+this lady for the safety of her husband. A man of his abilities,
+integrity, and fortune, could not in such times hope to escape
+persecution. He was inclined to brave the danger; but his lady
+represented that it would not be courage, but rashness and folly, to
+sacrifice his life to the villainy of others, without probability or
+possibility of serving his country by his fall.
+
+Monsieur de Fleury, in consequence of these representations, and of
+Victoire's intelligence, made his escape from Paris; and the very next
+day placards were put up in every street, offering a price for the head
+of Citoyen Fleury, _suspected of incivisme_.
+
+Struck with terror and astonishment at the sight of these placards, the
+children read them as they returned in the evening from school; and
+little Babet in the vehemence of her indignation mounted a lamplighter's
+ladder, and tore down one of the papers. This imprudent action did not
+pass unobserved: it was seen by one of the spies of Citoyen Tracassier, a
+man who, under the pretence of zeal _pour la chose publique_, gratified
+without scruple his private resentments and his malevolent passions. In
+his former character of an abbe, and a man of wit, he had gained
+admittance into Madame de Fleury's society. There he attempted to
+dictate both as a literary and religious despot. Accidentally
+discovering that Madame de Fleury had a little school for poor children,
+he thought proper to be offended, because he had not been consulted
+respecting the regulations, and because he was not permitted, as he said,
+to take the charge of this little flock. He made many objections to
+Sister Frances, as being an improper person to have the spiritual
+guidance of these young people; but as he was unable to give any just
+reason for his dislike, Madame de Fleury persisted in her choice, and was
+at last obliged to assert, in opposition to the domineering abbe, her
+right to judge and decide in her own affairs. With seeming politeness,
+he begged ten thousand pardons for his conscientious interference. No
+more was said upon the subject; and as he did not totally withdraw from
+her society till the revolution broke out, she did not suspect that she
+had anything to fear from his resentment. His manners and opinions
+changed suddenly with the times; the mask of religion was thrown off; and
+now, instead of objecting to Sister Frances as not being sufficiently
+strict and orthodox in her tenets, he boldly declared that a nun was not
+a fit person to be intrusted with the education of any of the young
+citizens--they should all be _des eleves de la patrie_. The abbe, become
+a member of the Committee of Public Safety, denounced Madame de Fleury,
+in the strange jargon of the day, as "_the fosterer of a swarm of bad
+citizens, who were nourished in the anticivic prejudices_ de l'ancien
+regime, _and fostered in the most detestable superstitions, in defiance
+of the law_." He further observed, that he had good reason to believe
+that some of these little enemies to the constitution had contrived and
+abetted Monsieur de Fleury's escape. Of their having rejoiced at it in a
+most indecent manner, he said he could produce irrefragable proof. The
+boy who saw Babet tear down the placard was produced and solemnly
+examined; and the thoughtless action of this poor little girl was
+construed into a state crime of the most horrible nature. In a
+declamatory tone, Tracassier reminded his fellow-citizens, that in the
+ancient Grecian times of virtuous republicanism (times of which France
+ought to show herself emulous), an Athenian child was condemned to death
+for having made a plaything of a fragment of the gilding that had fallen
+from a public statue. The orator, for the reward of his eloquence,
+obtained an order to seize everything in Madame de Fleury's school-house,
+and to throw the nun into prison.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+  "Who now will guard bewildered youth
+  Safe from the fierce assault of hostile rage?--
+  Such war can Virtue wage?"
+
+At the very moment when this order was going to be put in execution,
+Madame de Fleury was sitting in the midst of the children, listening to
+Babet, who was reading AEsop's fable of _The old man and his sons_.
+Whilst her sister was reading, Victoire collected a number of twigs from
+the garden: she had just tied them together; and was going, by Sister
+Frances' desire, to let her companions try if they could break the
+bundle, when the attention to the moral of the fable was interrupted by
+the entrance of an old woman, whose countenance expressed the utmost
+terror and haste, to tell what she had not breath to utter. To Madame de
+Fleury she was a stranger; but the children immediately recollected her
+to be the chestnut woman to whom Babet had some years ago restored
+certain purloined chestnuts.
+
+"Fly!" said she, the moment she had breath to speak: "Fly!--they are
+coming to seize everything here--carry off what you can--make haste--make
+haste!--I came through a by-street. A man was eating chestnuts at my
+stall, and I saw him show one that was with him the order from Citoyen
+Tracassier. They'll be here in five minutes--quick!--quick!--You, in
+particular," continued she, turning to the nun, "else you'll be in
+prison."
+
+At these words, the children, who had clung round Sister Frances, loosed
+their hold, exclaiming, "Go! go quick: but where? where?--we will go with
+her."
+
+"No, no!" said Madame de Fleury, "she shall come home with me--my
+carriage is at the door."
+
+"Ma belle dame!" cried the chestnut woman, "your house is the worst place
+she can go to--let her come to my cellar--the poorest cellar in these
+days is safer than the grandest palace."
+
+So saying, she seized the nun with honest roughness, and hurried her
+away. As soon as she was gone, the children ran different ways, each to
+collect some favourite thing, which they thought they could not leave
+behind. Victoire alone stood motionless beside Madame de Fleury; her
+whole thoughts absorbed by the fear that her benefactress would be
+imprisoned. "Oh, madame! dear, dear Madame de Fleury, don't stay! don't
+stay!"
+
+"Oh, children, never mind these things."
+
+"Don't stay, madame, don't stay! I will stay with them--I will stay--do
+you go."
+
+The children hearing these words, and recollecting Madame de Fleury's
+danger, abandoned all their little property, and instantly obeyed her
+orders to go home to their parents. Victoire at last saw Madame de
+Fleury safe in her carriage. The coachman drove off at a great rate; and
+a few minutes afterwards Tracassier's myrmidons arrived at the school-
+house. Great was their surprise when they found only the poor children's
+little books, unfinished samplers, and half-hemmed handkerchiefs. They
+ran into the garden to search for the nun. They were men of brutal
+habits, yet as they looked at everything round them, which bespoke peace,
+innocence, and childish happiness, they could not help thinking it was a
+pity to destroy what could do the nation no great harm after all. They
+were even glad that the nun had made her escape, since they were not
+answerable for it; and they returned to their employer satisfied for once
+without doing any mischief; but Citizen Tracassier was of too vindictive
+a temper to suffer the objects of his hatred thus to elude his vengeance.
+The next day Madame de Fleury was summoned before his tribunal and
+ordered to give up the nun, against whom, as a suspected person, a decree
+of the law had been obtained.
+
+Madame de Fleury refused to betray the innocent woman; the gentle
+firmness of this lady's answers to a brutal interrogatory was termed
+insolence--she was pronounced a refractory aristocrat, dangerous to the
+state; and an order was made out to seal up her goods, and to keep her a
+prisoner in her own house.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+  "Alas! full oft on Guilt's victorious car
+  The spoils of Virtue are in triumph borne,
+  While the fair captive, marked with many a scar,
+  In lone obscurity, oppressed, forlorn,
+  Resigns to tears her angel form."--BEATTIE.
+
+A close prisoner in her own house, Madame de Fleury was now guarded by
+men suddenly become soldiers, and sprung from the dregs of the people;
+men of brutal manners, ferocious countenances, and more ferocious minds.
+They seemed to delight in the insolent display of their newly-acquired
+power. One of those men had formerly been convicted of some horrible
+crime, and had been sent to the galleys by M. de Fleury. Revenge
+actuated this wretch under the mask of patriotism, and he rejoiced in
+seeing the wife of the man he hated a prisoner in his custody. Ignorant
+of the facts, his associates were ready to believe him in the right, and
+to join in the senseless cry against all who were their superiors in
+fortune, birth, and education. This unfortunate lady was forbidden all
+intercourse with her friends, and it was in vain she attempted to obtain
+from her gaolers intelligence of what was passing in Paris.
+
+"Tu verras--Tout va bien--Ca ira," were the only answers they deigned to
+make; frequently they continued smoking their pipes in obdurate silence.
+She occupied the back rooms of her house, because her guards apprehended
+that she might from the front windows receive intelligence from her
+friends. One morning she was awakened by an unusual noise in the
+streets; and, upon her inquiring the occasion of it, her guards told her
+she was welcome to go to the front windows and satisfy her curiosity. She
+went, and saw an immense crowd of people surrounding a guillotine that
+had been erected the preceding night. Madame de Fleury started back with
+horror--her guards burst into an inhuman laugh, and asked whether her
+curiosity was satisfied. She would have left the room; but it was now
+their pleasure to detain her, and to force her to continue the whole day
+in this apartment. When the guillotine began its work, they had even the
+barbarity to drag her to the window, repeating, "It is there you ought to
+be!--It is there your husband ought to be!--You are too happy, that your
+husband is not there this moment. But he will be there--the law will
+overtake him--he will be there in time--and you too!"
+
+The mild fortitude of this innocent, benevolent woman made no impression
+upon these cruel men. When at night they saw her kneeling at her
+prayers, they taunted her with gross and impious mockery; and when she
+sank to sleep, they would waken her by their loud and drunken orgies--if
+she remonstrated, they answered, "The enemies of the constitution should
+have no rest."
+
+Madame de Fleury was not an enemy to any human being; she had never
+interfered in politics; her life had been passed in domestic pleasures,
+or employed for the good of her fellow-creatures. Even in this hour of
+personal danger she thought of others more than of herself: she thought
+of her husband, an exile in a foreign country, who might be reduced to
+the utmost distress now that she was deprived of all means of remitting
+him money. She thought of her friends, who, she knew, would exert
+themselves to obtain her liberty, and whose zeal in her cause might
+involve them and their families in distress. She thought of the good
+Sister Frances, who had been exposed by her means to the unrelenting
+persecution of the malignant and powerful Tracassier. She thought of her
+poor little pupils, now thrown upon the world without a protector. Whilst
+these ideas were revolving in her mind one night as she lay awake, she
+heard the door of her chamber open softly, and a soldier, one of her
+guards, with a light in his hand, entered; he came to the foot of her
+bed, and, as she started up, laid his finger upon his lips.
+
+"Don't make the least noise," said he in a whisper; "those without are
+drunk, and asleep. Don't you know me?--don't you remember my face?"
+
+"Not in the least; yet I have some recollection of your voice."
+
+The man took off the bonnet-rouge--still she could not guess who he was.
+"You never saw me in a uniform before nor without a black face."
+
+She looked again, and recollected the smith to whom Maurice was bound
+apprentice, and remembered his _patois_ accent.
+
+"I remember you," said he, "at any rate; and your goodness to that poor
+girl the day her arm was broken, and all your goodness to Maurice. But
+I've no time for talking of that now--get up, wrap this great coat round
+you--don't be in a hurry, but make no noise--and follow me."
+
+She followed him; and he led her past the sleeping sentinels, opened a
+back door into the garden, hurried her (almost carried her) across the
+garden to a door at the furthest end of it, which opened into Les Champs
+Elysees--"La voila!" cried he, pushing her through the half-opened door.
+"God be praised!" answered a voice, which Madame de Fleury knew to be
+Victoire's, whose arms were thrown round her with a transport of joy.
+
+"Softly; she is not safe yet--wait till we get her home, Victoire," said
+another voice, which she knew to be that of Maurice. He produced a dark
+lantern, and guided Madame de Fleury across the Champs Elysees, and
+across the bridge, and then through various by-streets, in perfect
+silence, till they arrived safely at the house where Victoire's mother
+lodged, and went up those very stairs which she had ascended in such
+different circumstances several years before. The mother, who was
+sitting up waiting most anxiously for the return of her children, clasped
+her hands in an ecstasy when she saw them return with Madame de Fleury.
+
+"Welcome, madame! Welcome, dear madame! but who would have thought of
+seeing you here in such a way? Let her rest herself--let her rest; she
+is quite overcome. Here, madame, can you sleep on this poor bed?"
+
+"The very same bed you laid me upon the day my arm was broken," said
+Victoire.
+
+"Ay, Lord bless her!" said the mother; "and though it's seven good years
+ago, it seemed but yesterday that I saw her sitting on that bed beside my
+poor child looking like an angel. But let her rest, let her rest--we'll
+not say a word more, only God bless her; thank Heaven, she's safe with us
+at last!"
+
+Madame de Fleury expressed unwillingness to stay with these good people,
+lest she should expose them to danger; but they begged most earnestly
+that she would remain with them without scruple.
+
+"Surely, madame," said the mother, "you must think that we have some
+remembrance of all you have done for us, and some touch of gratitude."
+
+"And surely, madame, you can trust us, I hope," said Maurice.
+
+"And surely you are not too proud to let us do something for you. The
+lion was not too proud to be served by the poor little mouse," said
+Victoire. "As to danger for us," continued she, "there can be none; for
+Maurice and I have contrived a hiding-place for you, madame, that can
+never be found out--let them come spying here as often as they please,
+they will never find her out, will they, Maurice? Look, madame, into
+this lumber-room; you see it seems to be quite full of wood for firing;
+well, if you creep in behind, you can hide yourself quite snug in the
+loft above, and here's a trap-door into the loft that nobody ever would
+think of, for we have hung these old things from the top of it, and who
+could guess it was a trap-door? So you see, dear madame, you may sleep
+in peace here, and never fear for us."
+
+Though but a girl of fourteen, Victoire showed at this time all the sense
+and prudence of a woman of thirty. Gratitude seemed at once to develop
+all the powers of her mind. It was she and Maurice who had prevailed
+upon the smith to effect Madame de Fleury's escape from her own house.
+She had invented, she had foreseen, she had arranged everything; she had
+scarcely rested night or day since the imprisonment of her benefactress,
+and now that her exertions had fully succeeded, her joy seemed to raise
+her above all feeling of fatigue; she looked as fresh and moved as
+briskly, her mother said, as if she were preparing to go to a ball.
+
+"Ah! my child," said she, "your cousin Manon, who goes to those balls
+every night, was never so happy as you are this minute."
+
+But Victoire's happiness was not of long continuance; for the next day
+they were alarmed by intelligence that Tracassier was enraged beyond
+measure at Madame de Fleury's escape, that all his emissaries were at
+work to discover her present hiding-place, that the houses of all the
+parents and relations of her pupils were to be searched, and that the
+most severe denunciations were issued against all by whom she should be
+harboured. Manon was the person who gave this intelligence, but not with
+any benevolent design; she first came to Victoire, to display her own
+consequence; and to terrify her, she related all she knew from a
+soldier's wife, who was M. Tracassier's mistress. Victoire had
+sufficient command over herself to conceal from the inquisitive eyes of
+Manon the agitation of her heart; she had also the prudence not to let
+any one of her companions into her secret, though, when she saw their
+anxiety, she was much tempted to relieve them, by the assurance that
+Madame de Fleury was in safety. All the day was passed in apprehension.
+Madame de Fleury never stirred from her place of concealment: as the
+evening and the hour of the domiciliary visits approached, Victoire and
+Maurice were alarmed by an unforeseen difficulty. Their mother, whose
+health had been broken by hard work, in vain endeavoured to suppress her
+terror at the thoughts of this domiciliary visit; she repeated
+incessantly that she knew they should all be discovered, and that her
+children would be dragged to the guillotine before her face. She was in
+such a distracted state, that they dreaded she would, the moment she saw
+the soldiers, reveal all she knew.
+
+"If they question me, I shall not know what to answer," cried the
+terrified woman. "What can I say?--What can I do?"
+
+Reasoning, entreaties, all were vain; she was not in a condition to
+understand, or even to listen to, anything that was said. In this
+situation they were when the domiciliary visitors arrived--they heard the
+noise of the soldiers' feet on the stairs--the poor woman sprang from the
+arms of her children; but at the moment the door was opened, and she saw
+the glittering of the bayonets, she fell at full length in a swoon on the
+floor--fortunately before she had power to utter a syllable. The people
+of the house knew, and said, that she was subject to fits on any sudden
+alarm; so that her being affected in this manner did not appear
+surprising. They threw her on a bed, whilst they proceeded to search the
+house: her children stayed with her; and, wholly occupied in attending to
+her, they were not exposed to the danger of betraying their anxiety about
+Madame de Fleury. They trembled, however, from head to foot when they
+heard one of the soldiers swear that all the wood in the lumber-room must
+be pulled out, and that he would not leave the house till every stick was
+moved; the sound of each log, as it was thrown out, was heard by
+Victoire; her brother was now summoned to assist. How great was his
+terror when one of the searchers looked up to the roof, as if expecting
+to find a trap door; fortunately, however, he did not discover it.
+Maurice, who had seized the light, contrived to throw the shadows so as
+to deceive the eye. The soldiers at length retreated; and with
+inexpressible satisfaction Maurice lighted them down stairs, and saw them
+fairly out of the house. For some minutes after they were in safety, the
+terrified mother, who had recovered her senses, could scarcely believe
+that the danger was over. She embraced her children by turns with wild
+transport; and with tears begged Madame de Fleury to forgive her
+cowardice, and not to attribute it to ingratitude, or to suspect that she
+had a bad heart. She protested that she was now become so courageous,
+since she found that she had gone through this trial successfully, and
+since she was sure that the hiding-place was really so secure, that she
+should never be alarmed at any domiciliary visit in future. Madame de
+Fleury, however, did not think it either just or expedient to put her
+resolution to the trial. She determined to leave Paris; and, if
+possible, to make her escape from France. The master of one of the Paris
+diligences was brother to Francois, her footman: he was ready to assist
+her at all hazards, and to convey her safely to Bourdeaux, if she could
+disguise herself properly; and if she could obtain a pass from any friend
+under a feigned name.
+
+Victoire--the indefatigable Victoire--recollected that her friend Annette
+had an aunt, who was nearly of Madame de Fleury's size, and who had just
+obtained a pass to go to Bourdeaux, to visit some of her relations. The
+pass was willingly given up to Madame de Fleury; and upon reading it over
+it was found to answer tolerably well--the colour of the eyes and hair at
+least would do; though the words _un nez gros_ were not precisely
+descriptive of this lady's. Annette's mother, who had always worn the
+provincial dress of Auvergne, furnished the high _cornette_, stiff stays,
+bodice, &c.; and equipped in these, Madame de Fleury was so admirably
+well disguised, that even Victoire declared she should scarcely have
+known her. Money, that most necessary passport in all countries, was
+still wanting: as seals had been put upon all Madame de Fleury's effects
+the day she had been first imprisoned in her own house, she could not
+save even her jewels. She had, however, one ring on her finger of some
+value. How to dispose of it without exciting suspicion was the
+difficulty. Babet, who was resolved to have her share in assisting her
+benefactress, proposed to carry the ring to a _colporteur_--a pedlar, or
+sort of travelling jeweller--who had come to lay in a stock of hardware
+at Paris: he was related to one of Madame de Fleury's little pupils, and
+readily disposed of the ring for her: she obtained at least two-thirds of
+its value--a great deal in those times.
+
+The proofs of integrity, attachment, and gratitude which she received in
+these days of peril, from those whom she had obliged in her prosperity,
+touched her generous heart so much, that she has often since declared she
+could not regret having been reduced to distress. Before she quitted
+Paris she wrote letters to her friends, recommending her pupils to their
+protection; she left these letters in the care of Victoire, who to the
+last moment followed her with anxious affection. She would have followed
+her benefactress into exile, but that she was prevented by duty and
+affection from leaving her mother, who was in declining health.
+
+Madame de Fleury successfully made her escape from Paris. Some of the
+municipal officers in the towns through which she passed on her road were
+as severe as their ignorance would permit in scrutinising her passport.
+It seldom happened that more than one of these petty committees of public
+safety could read. One usually spelled out the passport as well as he
+could, whilst the others smoked their pipes, and from time to time held a
+light up to the lady's face to examine whether it agreed with the
+description.
+
+"Mais toi! tu n'as pas le nez gros!" said one of her judges to her. "Son
+nez est assez gros, et c'est moi qui le dit," said another. The question
+was put to the vote; and the man who had asserted what was contrary to
+the evidence of his senses was so vehement in supporting his opinion,
+that it was carried in spite of all that could be said against it. Madame
+de Fleury was suffered to proceed on her journey. She reached Bordeaux
+in safety. Her husband's friends--the good have always friends in
+adversity--her husband's friends exerted themselves for her with the most
+prudent zeal. She was soon provided with a sum of money sufficient for
+her support for some time in England; and she safely reached that free
+and happy country, which has been the refuge of so many illustrious
+exiles.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+  "Cosi rozzo diamante appena splende
+  Dalla rupe natia quand' esce fuora,
+  E a poco a poco lucido se rende
+  Sotto l'attenta che lo lavora."
+
+Madame de Fleury joined her husband, who was in London, and they both
+lived in the most retired and frugal manner. They had too much of the
+pride of independence to become burthensome to their generous English
+friends. Notwithstanding the variety of difficulties they had to
+encounter, and the number of daily privations to which they were forced
+to submit, yet they were happy--in a tranquil conscience, in their mutual
+affection, and the attachment of many poor but grateful friends. A few
+months after she came to England, Madame de Fleury received, by a private
+hand, a packet of letters from her little pupils. Each of them, even the
+youngest, who had but just begun to learn joining-hand, would write a few
+lines in this packet.
+
+In various hands, of various sizes, the changes were rung upon these
+simple words:--
+
+  "MY DEAR MADAME DE FLEURY,
+
+  "I love you--I wish you were here again--I will be _very very_ good
+  whilst you are away. If you stay away ever so long, I shall never
+  forget you, nor your goodness; but I hope you will soon be able to
+  come back, and this is what I pray for every night. Sister Frances
+  says I may tell you that I am very good, and Victoire thinks so too."
+
+This was the substance of several of their little letters. Victoire's
+contained rather more information:--
+
+  "You will be glad to learn that dear Sister Frances is safe, and that
+  the good chestnut-woman, in whose cellar she took refuge, did not get
+  into any difficulty. After you were gone, M. T--- said that he did
+  not think it worth while to pursue her, as it was only you he wanted
+  to humble. Manon, who has, I do not know how, means of knowing, told
+  me this. Sister Frances is now with her abbess, who, as well as
+  everybody else that knows her, is very fond of her. What was a
+  convent is no longer a convent--the nuns are turned out of it. Sister
+  Frances' health is not so good as it used to be, though she never
+  complains. I am sure she suffers much; she has never been the same
+  person since that day when we were driven from our happy schoolroom.
+  It is all destroyed--the garden and everything. It is now a dismal
+  sight. Your absence also afflicts Sister Frances much, and she is in
+  great anxiety about all of us. She has the six little ones with her
+  every day in her own apartment, and goes on teaching them as she used
+  to do. We six eldest go to see her as often as we can. I should have
+  begun, my dear Madame de Fleury, by telling you, that, the day after
+  you left Paris, I went to deliver all the letters you were so very
+  kind to write for us in the midst of your hurry. Your friends have
+  been exceedingly good to us, and have got places for us all. Rose is
+  with Madame la Grace, your mantua-maker, who says she is more handy
+  and more expert at cutting out than girls she has had these three
+  years. Marianne is in the service of Madame de V---, who has lost a
+  great part of her large fortune, and cannot afford to keep her former
+  waiting-maid. Madame de V--- is well pleased with Marianne, and bids
+  me tell you that she thanks you for her. Indeed, Marianne, though she
+  is only fourteen, can do everything her lady wants. Susanne is with a
+  confectioner. She gave Sister Frances a box of _bonbons_ of her own
+  making this morning; and Sister Frances, who is a judge, says they are
+  excellent--she only wishes you could taste them. Annette and I
+  (thanks to your kindness!) are in the same service with Madame
+  Feuillot, the _brodeuse_, to whom you recommended us. She is not
+  discontented with our work, and, indeed, sent a very civil message
+  yesterday to Sister Frances on this subject; but believe it is too
+  flattering for me to repeat in this letter. We shall do our best to
+  give her satisfaction. She is glad to find that we can write
+  tolerably, and that we can make out bills and keep accounts, this
+  being particularly convenient to her at present, as the young man she
+  had in the shop is become an orator, and good for nothing but _la
+  chose publique_; her son, who could have supplied his place, is ill;
+  and Madame Feuillot herself, not having had, as she says, the
+  advantage of such a good education as we have been blessed with,
+  writes but badly, and knows nothing of arithmetic. Dear Madame de
+  Fleury, how much, how very much we are obliged to you! We feel it
+  every day more and more; in these times what would have become of us
+  if we could do nothing useful? Who would, who could be burdened with
+  us? Dear madame, we owe everything to you--and we can do nothing, not
+  the least thing for you! My mother is still in bad health, and I fear
+  will never recover; Babet is with her always, and Sister Frances is
+  very good to her. My brother Maurice is now so good a workman that he
+  earns a louis a week. He is very steady to his business, and never
+  goes to the revolutionary meetings, though once he had a great mind to
+  be an orator of the people, but never since the day that you explained
+  to him that he knew nothing about equality and the rights of men, &c.
+  How could I forget to tell you, that his master the smith, who was one
+  of your guards, and who assisted you to escape, has returned without
+  suspicion to his former trade? and he declares that he will never more
+  meddle with public affairs. I gave him the money you left with me for
+  him. He is very kind to my brother. Yesterday Maurice mended for
+  Annette's mistress the lock of an English writing-desk, and he mended
+  it so astonishingly well, that an English gentleman, who saw it, could
+  not believe the work was done by a Frenchman; so my brother was sent
+  for, to prove it, and they were forced to believe it. To-day he has
+  more work than he can finish this twelve-month--all this we owe to
+  you. I shall never forget the day when you promised that you would
+  grant my brother's wish to be apprenticed to the smith, if I was not
+  in a passion for a month; that cured me of being so passionate.
+
+  "Dear Madame de Fleury, I have written you too long a letter, and not
+  so well as I can write when I am not in a hurry; but I wanted to tell
+  you everything at once, because, may be, I shall not for a long time
+  have so safe an opportunity of sending a letter to you.
+
+  "VICTOIRE."
+
+Several months elapsed before Madame do Fleury received another letter
+from Victoire; it was short and evidently written in great distress of
+mind. It contained an account of her mother's death. She was now left
+at the early age of sixteen an orphan. Madame Feuillot, the _brodeuse_,
+with whom she lived, added few lines to her letter, penned with
+difficulty and strangely spelled, but, expressive of her being highly
+pleased with both the girls recommended to her by Madame de Fleury,
+especially Victoire, who she said was such a treasure to her, that she
+would not part with her on any account, and should consider her as a
+daughter. "I tell her not to grieve so much; for though she has lost one
+mother she has gained another for herself, who will always love her; and
+besides she is so useful, and in so many ways, with her pen and her
+needle, in accounts, and everything that is wanted in a family or a shop;
+she can never want employment or friends in the worst times, and none can
+be worse than these, especially for such pretty girls as she is, who have
+all their heads turned, and are taught to consider nothing a sin that
+used to be sins. Many gentlemen, who come to our shop, have found out
+that Victoire is very handsome, and tell her so; but she is so modest and
+prudent that I am not afraid for her. I could tell you, madame, a good
+anecdote on this subject, but my paper will not allow, and, besides, my
+writing is so difficult."
+
+Above a year elapsed before Madame de Fleury received another letter from
+Victoire: this was in a parcel, of which an emigrant took charge; it
+contained a variety of little offerings from her pupils, instances of
+their ingenuity, their industry, and their affection; the last thing in
+the packet was a small purse labelled in this manner--
+
+"_Savings from our wages and earnings for her who taught us all we
+know_."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+  "Dans sa pompe elegante, admirez Chantilly,
+  De heros en heros, d'age en age, embelli."--DE LILLE.
+
+The health of the good Sister Frances, which had suffered much from the
+shock her mind received at the commencement of the revolution, declined
+so rapidly in the course of the two succeeding years, that she was
+obliged to leave Paris, and she retired to a little village in the
+neighbourhood of Chantilly. She chose this situation because here she
+was within a morning's walk of Madame de Fleury's country-seat. The
+Chateau de Fleury had not yet been seized as national property, nor had
+it suffered from the attacks of the mob, though it was in a perilous
+situation, within view of the high road to Paris. The Parisian populace
+had not yet extended their outrages to this distance from the city, and
+the poor people who lived on the estate of Fleury, attached from habit,
+principle, and gratitude, to their lord, were not disposed to take
+advantage of the disorder of the times, to injure the property of those
+from whom they had all their lives received favours and protection. A
+faithful old steward had the care of the castle and the grounds. Sister
+Frances was impatient to talk to him and to visit the chateau, which she
+had never seen; but for some days after her arrival in the village she
+was so much fatigued and so weak that she could not attempt so long a
+walk. Victoire had obtained permission from her mistress to accompany
+the nun for a few days to the country, as Annette undertook to do all the
+business of the shop during the absence of her companion. Victoire was
+fully as eager as Sister Frances to see the faithful steward and the
+Chateau de Fleury, and the morning was now fixed for their walk; but in
+the middle of the night they were awakened by the shouts of a mob, who
+had just entered the village fresh from the destruction of a neighbouring
+castle. The nun and Victoire listened; but in the midst of the horrid
+yells of joy no human voice, no intelligible word could be distinguished;
+they looked through a chink in the window-shutter and they saw the street
+below filled with a crowd of men, whose countenances were by turns
+illuminated by the glare of the torches which they brandished.
+
+"Good Heavens!" whispered the nun to Victoire: "I should know the face of
+that man who is loading his musket--the very man whom I nursed ten years
+ago when he was ill with a gaol fever!"
+
+This man, who stood in the midst of the crowd, taller by the head than
+the others, seemed to be the leader of the party; they were disputing
+whether they should proceed further, spend the remainder of the night in
+the village ale-house, or return to Paris. Their leader ordered spirits
+to be distributed to his associates, and exhorted them in a loud voice to
+proceed in their glorious work. Tossing his firebrand over his head he
+declared that he would never return to Paris till he had razed to the
+ground the Chateau de Fleury. At these words, Victoire, forgetful of all
+personal danger, ran out into the midst of the mob, pressed her way up to
+the leader of these ruffians, caught him by the arm, exclaiming, "You
+will not touch a stone in the Chateau de Fleury--I have my reasons--I say
+you will not suffer a stone in the Chateau de Fleury to be touched."
+
+"And why not?" cried the man, turning astonished; "and who are you that I
+should listen to you?"
+
+"No matter who I am," said Victoire; "follow me and I will show you one
+to whom you will not refuse to listen. Here!--here she is," continued
+Victoire, pointing to the nun, who had followed her in amazement; "here
+is one to whom you will listen--yes, look at her well: hold the light to
+her face."
+
+The nun, in a supplicating attitude, stood in speechless expectation.
+
+"Ay, I see you have gratitude, I know you will have mercy," cried
+Victoire, watching the workings in the countenance of the man; "you will
+save the Chateau de Fleury for her sake--who saved your life."
+
+"I will," cried this astonished chief of a mob, fired with sudden
+generosity. "By my faith you are a brave girl, and a fine girl, and know
+how to speak to the heart, and in the right moment. Friends, citizens,
+this nun, though she is a nun, is good for something. When I lay ill
+with a fever, and not a soul else to help me, she came and gave me
+medicines and food--in short, I owe my life to her. 'Tis ten years ago,
+but I remember it well, and now it is our turn to rule, and she shall be
+paid as she deserves. Not a stone of the Chateau de Fleury shall be
+touched!"
+
+With loud acclamations the mob joined in the generous enthusiasm of the
+moment and followed their leader peaceably out of the village. All this
+passed with such rapidity as scarcely to leave the impression of reality
+upon the mind. As soon as the sun rose in the morning Victoire looked
+out for the turrets of the Chateau de Fleury, and she saw that they were
+safe--safe in the midst of the surrounding devastation. Nothing remained
+of the superb palace of Chantilly but the white arches of its foundation.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+  "When thy last breath, ere Nature sank to rest
+  Thy meek submission to thy God expressed;
+  When thy last look, ere thought and feeling fled,
+  A mingled gleam of hope and triumph shed;
+  What to thy soul its glad assurance gave--
+  Its hope in death, its triumph o'er the grave?
+  The sweet remembrance of unblemished youth,
+  Th' inspiring voice of innocence and truth!"--ROGERS.
+
+The good Sister Frances, though she had scarcely recovered from the shock
+of the preceding night, accompanied Victoire to the Chateau de Fleury.
+The gates were opened for them by the old steward and his son Basile, who
+welcomed them with all the eagerness with which people welcome friends in
+time of adversity. The old man showed them the place; and through every
+apartment of the castle went on talking of former times, and with
+narrative fondness told anecdotes of his dear master and mistress. Here
+his lady used to sit and read--here was the table at which she wrote--this
+was the sofa on which she and the ladies sat the very last day she was at
+the castle, at the open windows of the hall, whilst all the tenants and
+people of the village were dancing on the green.
+
+"Ay, those were happy times," said the old man; "but they will never
+return."
+
+"Never! Oh do not say so," cried Victoire.
+
+"Never during my life, at least," said the nun in a low voice, and with a
+look of resignation.
+
+Basile, as he wiped the tears from his eyes, happened to strike his arm
+against the chord of Madame de Fleury's harp, and the sound echoed
+through the room.
+
+"Before this year is at an end," cried Victoire, "perhaps that harp will
+be struck again in this Chateau by Madame de Fleury herself. Last night
+we could hardly have hoped to see these walls standing this morning, and
+yet it is safe--not a stone touched! Oh, we shall all live, I hope, to
+see better times!"
+
+Sister Frances smiled, for she would not depress Victoire's enthusiastic
+hope: to please her, the good nun added, that she felt better this
+morning than she had felt for months, and Victoire was happier than she
+had been since Madame de Fleury left France. But, alas! it was only a
+transient gleam. Sister Frances relapsed and declined so rapidly, that
+even Victoire, whose mind was almost always disposed to hope, despaired
+of her recovery. With placid resignation, or rather with mild
+confidence, this innocent and benevolent creature met the approach of
+death. She seemed attached to earth only by affection for those whom she
+was to leave in this world. Two of the youngest of the children who had
+formerly been placed under her care, and who were not yet able to earn
+their own subsistence, she kept with her, and in the last days of her
+life she continued her instructions to them with the fond solicitude of a
+parent. Her father confessor, an excellent man, who never even in these
+dangerous times shrank from his duty, came to Sister Frances in her last
+moments, and relieved her mind from all anxiety, by promising to place
+the two little children with the lady who had been abbess of her convent,
+who would to the utmost of her power protect and provide for them
+suitably. Satisfied by this promise, the good Sister Frances smiled upon
+Victoire, who stood beside her bed, and with that smile upon her
+countenance expired.--It was some time before the little children seemed
+to comprehend, or to believe, that Sister Frances was dead: they had
+never before seen any one die; they had no idea what it was to die, and
+their first feeling was astonishment; they did not seem to understand why
+Victoire wept. But the next day when no Sister Frances spoke to them,
+when every hour they missed some accustomed kindness from her,--when
+presently they saw the preparations for her funeral,--when they heard
+that she was to be buried in the earth, and that they should never see
+her more,--they could neither play nor eat, but sat in a corner holding
+each other's hands, and watching everything that was done for the dead by
+Victoire.
+
+In those times, the funeral of a nun, with a priest attending, would not
+have been permitted by the populace. It was therefore performed as
+secretly as possible: in the middle of the night the coffin was carried
+to the burial-place of the Fleury family; the old steward, his son
+Basile, Victoire, and the good father confessor, were the only persons
+present. It is necessary to mention this, because the facts were
+afterwards misrepresented.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+  "The character is lost!
+  Her head adorned with lappets, pinned aloft,
+  And ribands streaming gay, superbly raised,
+  Indebted to some smart wig-weaver's hand
+  For more than half the tresses it sustains."--COWPER.
+
+Upon her return to Paris, Victoire felt melancholy; but she exerted
+herself as much as possible in her usual occupation; finding that
+employment and the consciousness of doing her duty were the best remedies
+for sorrow.
+
+One day as she was busy settling Madame Feuillot's accounts a servant
+came into the shop and inquired for Mademoiselle Victoire: he presented
+her a note, which she found rather difficult to decipher. It was signed
+by her cousin Manon, who desired to see Victoire at her hotel. "_Her
+hotel_!" repeated Victoire with astonishment. The servant assured her
+that one of the finest hotels in Paris belonged to his lady, and that he
+was commissioned to show her the way to it. Victoire found her cousin in
+a magnificent house, which had formerly belonged to the Prince de Salms.
+Manon, dressed in the disgusting, indecent extreme of the mode, was
+seated under a richly-fringed canopy. She burst into a loud laugh as
+Victoire entered.
+
+"You look just as much astonished as I expected," cried she. "Great
+changes have happened since I saw you last--I always told you, Victoire,
+I knew the world better than you did. What has come of all your
+schooling, and your mighty goodness, and your gratitude truly? Your
+patroness is banished and a beggar, and you a drudge in the shop of a
+_brodeuse_, who makes you work your fingers to the bone, no doubt. Now
+you shall see the difference. Let me show you my house; you know it was
+formerly the hotel of the Prince de Salms, he that was guillotined the
+other day; but you know nothing, for you have been out of Paris this
+month, I understand. Then I must tell you that my friend Villeneuf has
+acquired an immense fortune! by assignats made in the course of a
+fortnight. I say an immense fortune! and has bought this fine house. Now
+do you begin to understand?"
+
+"I do not clearly know whom you mean by 'your friend Villeneuf,'" said
+Victoire.
+
+"The hairdresser who lived in our street," said Manon; "he became a great
+patriot, you know, and orator; and, what with his eloquence and his luck
+in dealing in assignats, he has made his fortune and mine."
+
+"And yours! then he is your husband?"
+
+"That does not follow--that is not necessary--but do not look so
+shocked--everybody goes on the sane way now; besides, I had no other
+resource--I must have starved--I could not earn my bread as you do.
+Besides, I was too delicate for hard work of any sort--and besides--but
+come, let me show you my house--you have no idea how fine it is."
+
+With anxious ostentation Manon displayed all her riches to excite
+Victoire's envy.
+
+"Confess, Victoire," said she at last, "that you think me the happiest
+person you have ever known.--You do not answer; whom did you ever know
+that was happier?"
+
+"Sister Frances, who died last week, appeared to be much happier," said
+Victoire.
+
+"The poor nun!" said Manon, disdainfully. "Well, and whom do you think
+the next happiest?"
+
+"Madame de Fleury."
+
+"An exile and a beggar!--Oh, you are jesting now, Victoire--or--envious.
+With that sanctified face, citoyenne--perhaps I should say
+Mademoiselle--Victoire you would be delighted to change places with me
+this instant. Come, you shall stay with me a week to try how you like
+it."
+
+"Excuse me," said Victoire, firmly; "I cannot stay with you, Manon; you
+have chosen one way of life and I another--quite another. I do not
+repent my choice--may you never repent yours!--Farewell!"
+
+"Bless me! what airs! and with what dignity she looks! Repent of my
+choice!--a likely thing, truly. Am not I at the top of the wheel?"
+
+"And may not the wheel turn?" said Victoire.
+
+"Perhaps it may," said Manon; "but till it does I will enjoy myself.
+Since you are of a different humour, return to Madame Feuillot, and
+figure upon cambric and muslin, and make out bills, and nurse old nuns
+all the days of your life. You will never persuade me, however, that you
+would not change places with me if you could. Stay till you are tried,
+Mademoiselle Victoire. Who was ever in love with you or your
+virtues?--Stay till you are tried."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+  "But beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree,
+  Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard
+  Of dragon watch with unenchanted eye
+  To save her blossoms, or defend her fruit."--MILTON.
+
+The trial was nearer than either Manon or Victoire expected. Manon had
+scarcely pronounced the last words when the ci-devant hairdresser burst
+into the room, accompanied by several of his political associates, who
+met to consult measures for the good of the nation. Among these patriots
+was the Abbe Tracassier.
+
+"Who is that pretty girl who is with you, Manon?" whispered he; "a friend
+of yours, I hope?"
+
+Victoire left the room immediately, but not before the profligate abbe
+had seen enough to make him wish to see more. The next day he went to
+Madame Feuillot's under pretence of buying some embroidered
+handkerchiefs; he paid Victoire a profusion of extravagant compliments,
+which made no impression upon her innocent heart, and which appeared
+ridiculous to her plain good sense. She did not know who he was, nor did
+Madame Feuillot; for though she had often heard of the abbe, yet she had
+never seen him. Several succeeding days he returned, and addressed
+himself to Victoire, each time with increasing freedom. Madame Feuillot,
+who had the greatest confidence in her, left her entirely to her own
+discretion. Victoire begged her friend Annette to do the business of the
+shop, and stayed at work in the back parlour. Tracassier was much
+disappointed by her absence; but as he thought no great ceremony
+necessary in his proceedings, he made his name known in a haughty manner
+to Madame de Feuillot, and desired that he might be admitted into the
+back parlour, as he had something of consequence to say to Mademoiselle
+Victoire in private. Our readers will not require to have a detailed
+account of this _tete-a-tete_; it is sufficient to say that the
+disappointed and exasperated abbe left the house muttering imprecations.
+The next morning a note came to Victoire apparently from Manon: it was
+directed by her, but the inside was written by an unknown hand, and
+continued these words:--
+
+"You are a charming, but incomprehensible girl--since you do not like
+compliments, you shall not be addressed with empty flattery. It is in
+the power of the person who dictates this, not only to make you as rich
+and great as your cousin Manon, but also to restore to fortune and to
+their country the friends for whom, you are most interested. Their fate
+as well as your own is in your power: if you send a favourable answer to
+this note, the persons alluded to will, to-morrow, be struck from the
+list of emigrants, and reinstated in their former possessions. If your
+answer is decidedly unfavourable, the return of your friends to France
+will be thenceforward impracticable, and their chateau, as well as their
+house in Paris, will be declared national property, and sold without
+delay to the highest bidder. To you, who have as much understanding as
+beauty, it is unnecessary to say more. Consult your heart, charming
+Victoire! be happy, and make others happy. This moment is decisive of
+your fate and of theirs, for you have to answer a man of a most decided
+character."
+
+Victoire's answer was as follows:--
+
+"My friends would not, I am sure, accept of their fortune, or consent to
+return to their country, upon the conditions proposed; therefore I have
+no merit in rejecting them."
+
+Victoire had early acquired good principles, and that plain steady good
+sense, which goes straight to its object, without being dazzled or
+imposed upon by sophistry. She was unacquainted with the refinements of
+sentiment, but she distinctly knew right from wrong, and had sufficient
+resolution to abide by the right. Perhaps many romantic heroines might
+have thought it a generous self-devotion to have become in similar
+circumstances the mistress of Tracassier; and those who are skilled "to
+make the worst appear the better cause" might have made such an act of
+heroism the foundation of an interesting, or at least a fashionable
+novel. Poor Victoire had not received an education sufficiently refined
+to enable her to understand these mysteries of sentiment. She was even
+simple enough to flatter herself that this libertine patriot would not
+fulfil his threats, and that these had been made only with a view to
+terrify her into compliance. In this opinion, however, she found herself
+mistaken. M. Tracassier was indeed a man of the most decided character,
+if this form may properly be applied to those who act uniformly in
+consequence of their ruling passion. The Chateau de Fleury was seized as
+national property. Victoire heard this bad news from the old steward,
+who was turned out of the castle, along with his son, the very day after
+her rejection of the proposed conditions.
+
+"I could not have believed that any human creature could be so wicked!"
+exclaimed Victoire, glowing with indignation: but indignation gave way to
+sorrow.
+
+"And the Chateau de Fleury is really seized?--and you, good old man, are
+turned out of the place where you were born?--and you too, Basile?--and
+Madame de Fleury will never come back again!--and perhaps she may be put
+into prison in a foreign country, and may die for want--and I might have
+prevented all this!"
+
+Unable to shed a tear, Victoire stood in silent consternation, whilst
+Annette explained to the good steward and his son the whole transaction.
+Basile, who was naturally of an impetuous temper, was so transported with
+indignation, that he would have gone instantly with the note from
+Tracassier to denounce him before the whole National Convention, if he
+had not been restrained by his more prudent father. The old steward
+represented to him, that as the note was neither signed nor written by
+the hand of Tracassier, no proof could be brought home to him, and the
+attempt to convict one of so powerful a party would only bring certain
+destruction upon the accusers. Besides, such was at this time the
+general depravity of manners, that numbers would keep the guilty in
+countenance. There was no crime which the mask of patriotism could not
+cover. "There is one comfort we have in our misfortunes, which these men
+can never have," said the old man; "when their downfall comes, and come
+it will most certainly, they will not feel as we do, INNOCENT. Victoire,
+look up! and do not give way to despair--all will yet be well."
+
+"At all events, you have done what is right--so do not reproach
+yourself," said Basile. "Everybody--I mean everybody who is good for
+anything--must respect, admire, and love you, Victoire."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+  "Ne mal cio che v'annoja,
+  Quello e vero gioire
+  Che nasce da virtude dopo il soffrire."
+
+Basile had not seen without emotion the various instances of goodness
+which Victoire showed during the illness of Sister Frances. Her conduct
+towards M. Tracassier increased his esteem and attachment; but he forbore
+to declare his affection, because he could not, consistently with
+prudence, or with gratitude to his father, think of marrying, now that he
+was not able to maintain a wife and family. The honest earnings of many
+years of service had been wrested from the old steward at the time the
+Chateau de Fleury was seized, and he now depended on the industry of his
+son for the daily support of his age. His dependence was just, and not
+likely to be disappointed; for he had given his son an education suitable
+to his condition in life. Basile was an exact arithmetician, could write
+an excellent hand, and was a ready draughtsman and surveyor. To bring
+these useful talents into action, and to find employment for them with
+men by whom they would be honestly rewarded, was the only difficulty--a
+difficulty which Victoire's brother Maurice soon removed. His reputation
+as a smith had introduced him, among his many customers, to a gentleman
+of worth and scientific knowledge, who was at this time employed to make
+models and plans of all the fortified places in Europe; he was in want of
+a good clerk and draughtsman, of whose integrity he could be secure.
+Maurice mentioned his friend Basile; and upon inquiry into his character,
+and upon trial of his abilities, he was found suited to the place, and
+was accepted. By his well-earned salary he supported himself and his
+father; and began, with the sanguine hopes of a young man, to flatter
+himself that he should soon be rich enough to marry, and that then he
+might declare his attachment to Victoire. Notwithstanding all his
+boasted prudence, he had betrayed sufficient symptoms of his passion to
+have rendered a declaration unnecessary to any clear-sighted observer:
+but Victoire was not thinking of conquests; she was wholly occupied with
+a scheme of earning a certain sum of money for her benefactress, who was
+now, as she feared, in want. All Madame de Fleury's former pupils
+contributed their share to the common stock; and the mantua-maker, the
+confectioner, the servants of different sorts, who had been educated at
+her school, had laid by, during the years of her banishment, an annual
+portion of their wages and savings: with the sum which Victoire now added
+to the fund, it amounted to ten thousand livres. The person who
+undertook to carry this money to Madame de Fleury, was Francois, her
+former footman, who had procured a pass to go to England as a
+hairdresser. The night before he set out was a happy night for Victoire,
+as all her companions met, by Madame Feuillot's invitation, at her house;
+and after tea they had the pleasure of packing up the little box, in
+which each, besides the money, sent some token their gratitude, and some
+proof of their ingenuity. They would with all their hearts have sent
+twice as many _souvenirs_ as Francois could carry.
+
+"D'abord c'est impossible!" cried he, when he saw the box that was
+prepared for him to carry to England: but his good nature was unable to
+resist the entreaties of each to have her offering carried, "which would
+take up no room."
+
+He departed--arrived safe in England--found out Madame de Fleury, who was
+in real distress, in obscure lodgings at Richmond. He delivered the
+money, and all the presents of which he had taken charge: but the person
+to whom she entrusted a letter, in answer to Victoire, was not so
+punctual, or was more unlucky: for the letter never reached her, and she
+and her companions were long uncertain whether their little treasure had
+been received. They still continued, however, with indefatigable
+gratitude, to lay by a portion of their earnings for their benefactress;
+and the pleasure they had in this perseverance made them more than amends
+for the loss of some little amusements, and for privations to which they
+submitted in consequence of their resolution.
+
+In the meantime, Basile, going on steadily with his employments, advanced
+every day in the favour of his master, and his salary was increased in
+proportion to his abilities and industry; so that he thought he could
+now, without any imprudence, marry. He consulted his father, who
+approved of his choice; he consulted Maurice as to the probability of his
+being accepted by Victoire; and encouraged by both his father and his
+friend, he was upon the eve of addressing himself to Victoire, when he
+was prevented by a new and unforeseen misfortune. His father was taken
+up, by an emissary of Tracassier's, and brought before one of their
+revolutionary committees, where he was accused of various acts of
+_incivisme_. Among other things equally criminal, it was proved that one
+Sunday, when he went to see Le Petit Trianon, then a public-house, he
+exclaimed, "C'est ici que le canaille danse, et que les honnetes gens
+pleurent!"
+
+Basile was present at this mock examination of his father--he saw him on
+the point of being dragged to prison--when a hint was given that he might
+save his father by enlisting immediately, and going with the army out of
+France. Victoire was full in Basile's recollection; but there was no
+other means of saving his father. He enlisted, and in twenty-four hours
+left Paris.
+
+What appear to be the most unfortunate circumstances of life often prove
+ultimately the most advantageous--indeed, those who have knowledge,
+activity, and integrity, can convert the apparent blanks in the lottery
+of fortune into prizes. Basile was recommended to his commanding officer
+by the gentleman who had lately employed him as a clerk; his skill in
+drawing plans, and in taking rapid surveys of the country through which
+they passed, was extremely useful to his general, and his integrity made
+it safe to trust him as a secretary. His commanding officer, though a
+brave man, was illiterate, and a secretary was to him a necessary of
+life. Basile was not only useful, but agreeable; without any mean arts,
+or servile adulation, he pleased by simply showing the desire to oblige
+and the ability to serve.
+
+"Diable!" exclaimed the general one day, as he looked at Basile's plan of
+a town which the army was besieging. "How comes it that you are able to
+do all these things? But you have a genius for this sort of work,
+apparently."
+
+"No, sir," said Basile, "these things were taught to me when I was a
+child by a good friend."
+
+"A good friend he was, indeed! he did more for you than if he had given
+you a fortune; for, in these times, that might have been soon taken from
+you; but now you have the means of making a fortune for yourself."
+
+This observation of the general's, obvious as it may seem, is deserving
+of the serious consideration of those who have children of their own to
+educate, or who have the disposal of money for public charities. In
+these times no sensible person will venture to pronounce that a change of
+fortune and station may not await the highest and the lowest; whether we
+rise or fall in the scale of society, personal qualities and knowledge
+will be valuable. Those who fall cannot be destitute, and those who rise
+cannot be ridiculous or contemptible, if they have been prepared for
+their fortune by proper education. In shipwreck those who carry their
+all in their minds are the most secure.
+
+But to return to Basile. He had sense enough not to make his general
+jealous of him by any unseasonable display of his talents, or any
+officious intrusion of advice, even upon subjects which he best
+understood.
+
+The talents of the warrior and the secretary were in such different
+lines, that there was no danger of competition; and the general, finding
+in his secretary the soul of all the arts, good sense, gradually acquired
+the habit of asking his opinion on every subject that came within his
+department. It happened that the general received orders from the
+Directory at Paris to take a certain town, let it cost what it would,
+within a given time: in his perplexity he exclaimed before Basile against
+the unreasonableness of these orders, and declared his belief that it was
+impossible he should succeed, and that this was only a scheme of his
+enemies to prepare his ruin. Basile had attended to the operations of
+the engineer who acted under the general, and perfectly recollected the
+model of the mines of this town, which he had seen when he was employed
+as draughtsman by his Parisian friend. He remembered that there was
+formerly an old mine that had been stopped up somewhere near the place
+where the engineer was at work; he mentioned in private his suspicions to
+the general, who gave orders in consequence. The old mine was
+discovered, cleared out, and by these means the town was taken the day
+before the time appointed. Basile did not arrogate to himself any of the
+glory of this success; he kept his general's secret and his confidence.
+Upon their return to Paris, after a fortunate campaign, the general was
+more grateful than some others have been, perhaps because more room was
+given by Basile's prudence for the exercise of this virtue.
+
+"My friend," said he to Basile, "you have done me a great service by your
+counsel, and a greater still by holding your tongue. Speak now, and tell
+me freely if there is anything I can do for you. You see, as a
+victorious general, I have the upper hand amongst these
+fellows--Tracassier's scheme to ruin me missed--whatever I ask will at
+this moment be granted; speak freely, therefore."
+
+Basile asked what he knew Victoire most desired--that Monsieur and Madame
+de Fleury should be struck from the list of emigrants, and that their
+property now in the hands of the nation should be restored to them. The
+general promised that this should be done. A warm contest ensued upon
+the subject between him and Tracassier, but the general stood firm; and
+Tracassier, enraged, forgot his usual cunning, and quarrelling
+irrevocably with a party now more powerful than his own, he and his
+adherents were driven from that station in which they had so long
+tyrannised. From being the rulers of France, they in a few hours became
+banished men, or, in the phrase of the times, _des deportes_.
+
+We must not omit to mention the wretched end of Manon. The man with whom
+she lived perished by the guillotine. From his splendid house she went
+upon the stage, did not succeed, sank from one degree of profligacy to
+another, and at last died in an hospital.
+
+In the meantime, the order for the restoration of the Fleury property,
+and for permission for the Fleury family to return to France, was made
+out in due form, and Maurice begged to be the messenger of these good
+tidings--he set out for England with the order.
+
+Victoire immediately went down to the Chateau de Fleury, to get
+everything in readiness for the reception of the family.
+
+Exiles are expeditious in their return to their native country. Victoire
+had but just time to complete her preparations, when Monsieur and Madame
+de Fleury arrived at Calais. Victoire had assembled all her companions,
+all Madame de Fleury's former pupils; and the hour when she was expected
+home, they, with the peasants of the neighbourhood, were all in their
+holiday clothes, and, according to the custom of the country, singing and
+dancing. Without music and dancing there is no perfect joy in France.
+Never was _fete du village_ or _fete du Seigneur_ more joyful than this.
+
+The old steward opened the gate, the carriage drove in. Madame de Fleury
+saw that home which she had little expected evermore to behold, but all
+other thoughts were lost in the pleasure of meeting her beloved pupils.
+
+"My children!" cried she, as they crowded round her the moment she got
+out of her carriage--"my dear, _good_ children!"
+
+It was all she could say. She leaned on Victoire's arm as she went into
+the house, and by degrees recovering from the almost painful excess of
+pleasure, began to enjoy what she yet only confusedly felt.
+
+Several of her pupils were so much grown and altered in their external
+appearance, that she could scarcely recollect them till they spoke, and
+then their voices and the expression of their countenances brought their
+childhood fully to her memory. Victoire, she thought, was changed the
+least, and at this she rejoiced.
+
+The feeling and intelligent reader will imagine all the pleasure that
+Madame de Fleury enjoyed this day; nor was it merely the pleasure of a
+day. She heard from all her friends, with prolonged satisfaction,
+repeated accounts of the good conduct of these young people during her
+absence. She learned with delight how her restoration to her country and
+her fortune had been effected; and is it necessary to add, that Victoire
+consented to marry Basile, and that she was suitably portioned, and, what
+is better still, that she was perfectly happy? Monsieur de Fleury
+rewarded the attachment and good conduct of Maurice by taking him into
+his service, and making him his manager under the old steward at the
+Chateau de Fleury.
+
+On Victoire's wedding-day Madame de Fleury produced all the little
+offerings of gratitude which she had received from her and her companions
+during her exile. It was now her turn to confer favours, and she knew
+how to confer them both with grace and judgment.
+
+"No gratitude in human nature! No gratitude in the lower classes of the
+people!" cried she; "how much those are mistaken who think so! I wish
+they could know my history, and the history of these my children, and
+they would acknowledge their error."
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE UNLUCKY AND OTHER TALES ***
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+<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Murad the Unlucky and Other Tales, by Maria Edgeworth</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
+at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
+are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
+country where you are located before using this eBook.
+</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Murad the Unlucky and Other Tales</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Maria Edgeworth</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: April, 2000 [eBook #2129]<br />
+[Most recently updated: November 22, 2021]</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: David Price</div>
+<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MURAD THE UNLUCKY AND OTHER TALES ***</div>
+
+<h1>MURAD THE UNLUCKY<br />
+AND OTHER TALES</h1>
+
+<h2 class="no-break">by Maria Edgeworth</h2>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>Contents</h2>
+
+<table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto">
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap01">Introduction</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap02">Murad the Unlucky</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap03">The Limerick Gloves</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td> <a href="#chap04">Madame de Fleury</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+</table>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap01"></a>INTRODUCTION</h2>
+
+<p>Maria Edgeworth came of a lively family which had settled in Ireland
+in the latter part of the sixteenth century. Her father at the
+age of five-and-twenty inherited the family estates at Edgeworthstown
+in 1769. He had snatched an early marriage, which did not prove
+happy. He had a little son, whom he was educating upon the principles
+set forth in Rousseau&rsquo;s &ldquo;Emile,&rdquo; and a daughter Maria,
+who was born on the 1st of January, 1767. He was then living at
+Hare Hatch, near Maidenhead. In March, 1773, his first wife died
+after giving birth to a daughter named Anna. In July, 1773, he
+married again, Honora Sneyd, and went to live in Ireland, taking with
+him his daughter Maria, who was then about six years old. Two
+years afterwards she was sent from Ireland to a school at Derby.
+In April, 1780, her father&rsquo;s second wife died, and advised him
+upon her death-bed to marry her sister Elizabeth. He married his
+deceased wife&rsquo;s sister on the next following Christmas Day.
+Maria Edgeworth was in that year removed to a school in London, and
+her holidays were often spent with her father&rsquo;s friend Thomas
+Day, the author of &ldquo;Sandford and Merton,&rdquo; an eccentric enthusiast
+who lived then at Anningsley, in Surrey.</p>
+
+<p>Maria Edgeworth&mdash;always a little body&mdash;was conspicuous
+among her schoolfellows for quick wit, and was apt alike for study and
+invention. She was story-teller general to the community.
+In 1782, at the age of fifteen, she left school and went home with her
+father and his third wife, who then settled finally at Edgeworthstown.</p>
+
+<p>At Edgeworthstown Richard Lovell Edgeworth now became active in the
+direct training of his children, in the improvement of his estate, and
+in schemes for the improvement of the country. His eldest daughter,
+Maria, showing skill with the pen, he made her more and more his companion
+and fellow-worker to good ends. She kept household accounts, had
+entrusted to her the whole education of a little brother, wrote stories
+on a slate and read them to the family, wiped them off when not approved,
+and copied them in ink if they proved popular with the home public.
+Miss Edgeworth&rsquo;s first printed book was a plea for the education
+of women, &ldquo;Letters to Literary Ladies,&rdquo; published in 1795,
+when her age was eight-and-twenty. Next year, 1796, working with
+her father, she produced the first volume of the &ldquo;Parent&rsquo;s
+Assistant.&rdquo; In November, 1797, when Miss Edgeworth&rsquo;s
+age was nearly thirty-one, her father, then aged fifty-three, lost his
+third wife, and he married a fourth in the following May. The
+fourth wife, at first objected to, was young enough to be a companion
+and friend, and between her and Maria Edgeworth a fast friendship came
+to be established. In the year of her father&rsquo;s fourth marriage
+Maria joined him in the production of two volumes on &ldquo;Practical
+Education.&rdquo; Then followed books for children, including
+&ldquo;Harry and Lucy,&rdquo; which had been begun by her father years
+before in partnership with his second wife, when Thomas Day began writing
+&ldquo;Sandford and Merton,&rdquo; with the original intention that
+it should be worked in as a part of the whole scheme.</p>
+
+<p>In the year 1800 Miss Edgeworth, thirty-three years old, began her
+independent career as a novelist with &ldquo;Castle Rackrent;&rdquo;
+and from that time on, work followed work in illustration of the power
+of a woman of genius to associate quick wit and quick feeling with sound
+sense and a good reason for speaking. Sir Walter Scott in his
+frank way declared that he received an impulse from Miss Edgeworth&rsquo;s
+example as a story-teller. In the general preface to his own final
+edition of the Waverley Novels he said that &ldquo;Without being so
+presumptuous as to hope to emulate the rich humour, pathetic tenderness,
+and admirable tact, which pervade the works of my accomplished friend,
+I felt that something might be attempted for my own country of the same
+kind with that which Miss Edgeworth so fortunately achieved for Ireland&mdash;something
+which might introduce her natives to those of the sister kingdom in
+a more favourable light than they had been placed hitherto, and tend
+to procure sympathy for their virtues and indulgence for their foibles.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Of the three stories in this volume, who&mdash;&ldquo;Murad the Unlucky&rdquo;
+and &ldquo;The Limerick Gloves&rdquo;&mdash;first appeared in three
+volumes of &ldquo;Popular Tales,&rdquo; which were first published in
+1804, with a short introduction by Miss Edgeworth&rsquo;s father.
+&ldquo;Madame de Fleury&rdquo; was written a few years later.</p>
+
+<p>H. M.</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap02"></a>MURAD THE UNLUCKY</h2>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER I</h3>
+
+<p>It is well known that the grand seignior amuses himself by going
+at night, in disguise, through streets of Constantinople; as the caliph
+Haroun Alraschid used formerly to do in Bagdad.</p>
+
+<p>One moonlight night, accompanied by his grand vizier, he traversed
+several of the principal streets of the city without seeing anything
+remarkable. At length, as they were passing a rope-maker&rsquo;s,
+the sultan recollected the Arabian story of Cogia-Hassan Alhabal, the
+rope-maker, and his two friends, Saad and Saadi, who differed so much
+in their opinion concerning the influence of fortune over human affairs.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is your opinion on this subject?&rdquo; said the grand
+seignior to his vizier.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am inclined, please your majesty,&rdquo; replied the vizier,
+&ldquo;to think that success in the world depends more upon prudence
+than upon what is called luck, or fortune.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And I,&rdquo; said the sultan, &ldquo;am persuaded that fortune
+does more for men than prudence. Do you not every day hear of
+persons who are said to be fortunate or unfortunate? How comes
+it that this opinion should prevail amongst men, if it be not justified
+by experience?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is not for me to dispute with your majesty,&rdquo; replied
+the prudent vizier.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Speak your mind freely; I desire and command it,&rdquo; said
+the sultan.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then I am of opinion,&rdquo; answered the vizier, &ldquo;that
+people are often led to believe others fortunate, or unfortunate, merely
+because they only know the general outline of their histories; and are
+ignorant of the incidents and events in which they have shown prudence
+or imprudence. I have heard, for instance, that there are at present,
+in this city, two men, who are remarkable for their good and bad fortune:
+one is called Murad the Unlucky, and the other Saladin the Lucky.
+Now, I am inclined to think, if we could hear their stories, we should
+find that one is a prudent and the other an imprudent character.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where do these men live?&rdquo; interrupted the sultan.
+&ldquo;I will hear their histories from their own lips before I sleep.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Murad the Unlucky lives in the next square,&rdquo; said the
+vizier.</p>
+
+<p>The sultan desired to go thither immediately. Scarcely had
+they entered the square, when they heard the cry of loud lamentations.
+They followed the sound till they came to a house of which the door
+was open, and where there was a man tearing his turban, and weeping
+bitterly. They asked the cause of his distress, and he pointed
+to the fragments of a china vase, which lay on the pavement at his door.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This seems undoubtedly to be beautiful china,&rdquo; said
+the sultan, taking up one of the broken pieces; &ldquo;but can the loss
+of a china vase be the cause of such violent grief and despair?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, gentlemen,&rdquo; said the owner of the vase, suspending
+his lamentations, and looking at the dress of the pretended merchants,
+&ldquo;I see that you are strangers: you do not know how much cause
+I have for grief and despair! You do not know that you are speaking
+to Murad the Unlucky! Were you to hear all the unfortunate accidents
+that have happened to me, from the time I was born till this instant,
+you would perhaps pity me, and acknowledge I have just cause for despair.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Curiosity was strongly expressed by the sultan; and the hope of obtaining
+sympathy inclined Murad to gratify it by the recital of his adventures.
+&ldquo;Gentlemen,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I scarcely dare invite you
+into the house of such an unlucky being as I am; but if you will venture
+to take a night&rsquo;s lodging under my roof, you shall hear at your
+leisure the story of my misfortunes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The sultan and the vizier excused themselves from spending the night
+with Murad, saying that they were obliged to proceed to their khan,
+where they should be expected by their companions; but they begged permission
+to repose themselves for half an hour in his house, and besought him
+to relate the history of his life, if it would not renew his grief too
+much to recollect his misfortunes.</p>
+
+<p>Few men are so miserable as not to like to talk of their misfortunes,
+where they have, or where they think they have, any chance of obtaining
+compassion. As soon as the pretended merchants were seated, Murad
+began his story in the following manner:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My father was a merchant of this city. The night before
+I was born he dreamed that I came into the world with the head of a
+dog and the tail of a dragon; and that, in haste to conceal my deformity,
+he rolled me up in a piece of linen, which unluckily proved to be the
+grand seignior&rsquo;s turban; who, enraged at his insolence in touching
+his turban, commanded that his head should be struck off.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My father awaked before he lost his head, but not before he
+had lost half his wits from the terror of his dream. He considered
+it as a warning sent from above, and consequently determined to avoid
+the sight of me. He would not stay to see whether I should really
+be born with the head of a dog and the tail of a dragon; but he set
+out, the next morning, on a voyage to Aleppo.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He was absent for upwards of seven years; and during that
+time my education was totally neglected. One day I inquired from
+my mother why I had been named Murad the Unlucky. She told me
+that this name was given to me in consequence of my father&rsquo;s dream;
+but she added that perhaps it might be forgotten, if I proved fortunate
+in my future life. My nurse, a very old woman, who was present,
+shook her head, with a look which I shall never forget, and whispered
+to my mother loud enough for me to hear, &lsquo;Unlucky he was, and
+is, and ever will be. Those that are born to ill luck cannot help
+themselves; nor can any, but the great prophet, Mahomet himself, do
+anything for them. It is a folly for an unlucky person to strive
+with their fate: it is better to yield to it at once.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This speech made a terrible impression upon me, young as I
+then was; and every accident that happened to me afterwards confirmed
+my belief in my nurse&rsquo;s prognostic. I was in my eighth year
+when my father returned from abroad. The year after he came home
+my brother Saladin was born, who was named Saladin the Lucky, because
+the day he was born a vessel freighted with rich merchandise for my
+father arrived safely in port.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will not weary you with a relation of all the little instances
+of good fortune by which my brother Saladin was distinguished, even
+during his childhood. As he grew up, his success in everything
+he undertook was as remarkable as my ill luck in all that I attempted.
+From the time the rich vessel arrived, we lived in splendour; and the
+supposed prosperous state of my father&rsquo;s affairs was of course
+attributed to the influence of my brother Saladin&rsquo;s happy destiny.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When Saladin was about twenty, my father was taken dangerously
+ill; and as he felt that he should not recover, he sent for my brother
+to the side of his bed, and, to his great surprise, informed him that
+the magnificence in which we had lived had exhausted all his wealth;
+that his affairs were in the greatest disorder; for, having trusted
+to the hope of continual success, he had embarked in projects beyond
+his powers.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The sequel was, he had nothing remaining to leave to his children
+but two large china vases, remarkable for their beauty, but still more
+valuable on account of certain verses inscribed upon them in an unknown
+character, which were supposed to operate as a talisman or charm in
+favour of their possessors.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Both these vases my father bequeathed to my brother Saladin;
+declaring he could not venture to leave either of them to me, because
+I was so unlucky that I should inevitably break it. After his
+death, however, my brother Saladin, who was blessed with a generous
+temper, gave me my choice of the two vases; and endeavoured to raise
+my spirits by repeating frequently that he had no faith either in good
+fortune or ill fortune.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I could not be of his opinion, though I felt and acknowledged
+his kindness in trying to persuade me out of my settled melancholy.
+I knew it was in vain for me to exert myself, because I was sure that,
+do what I would, I should still be Murad the Unlucky. My brother,
+on the contrary, was nowise cast down, even by the poverty in which
+my father left us: he said he was sure he should find some means of
+maintaining himself; and so he did.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On examining our china vases, he found in them a powder of
+a bright scarlet colour; and it occurred to him that it would make a
+fine dye. He tried it, and after some trouble, it succeeded to
+admiration.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;During my father&rsquo;s lifetime, my mother had been supplied
+with rich dresses by one of the merchants who was employed by the ladies
+of the grand seignior&rsquo;s seraglio. My brother had done this
+merchant some trifling favours, and, upon application to him, he readily
+engaged to recommend the new scarlet dye. Indeed, it was so beautiful,
+that, the moment it was seen, it was preferred to every other colour.
+Saladin&rsquo;s shop was soon crowded with customers; and his winning
+manners and pleasant conversation were almost as advantageous to him
+as his scarlet dye. On the contrary, I observed that the first
+glance at my melancholy countenance was sufficient to disgust every
+one who saw me. I perceived this plainly; and it only confirmed
+me the more in my belief in my own evil destiny.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It happened one day that a lady, richly apparelled and attended
+by two female slaves, came to my brother&rsquo;s house to make some
+purchases. He was out, and I alone was left to attend to the shop.
+After she had looked over some goods, she chanced to see my china vase,
+which was in the room. She took a prodigious fancy to it, and
+offered me any price if I would part with it; but this I declined doing,
+because I believed that I should draw down upon my head some dreadful
+calamity if I voluntarily relinquished the talisman. Irritated
+by my refusal, the lady, according to the custom of her sex, became
+more resolute in her purpose; but neither entreaties nor money could
+change my determination. Provoked beyond measure at my obstinacy,
+as she called it, she left the house.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On my brother&rsquo;s return, I related to him what had happened,
+and expected that he would have praised me for my prudence; but, on
+the contrary, he blamed me for the superstitious value I set upon the
+verses on my vase; and observed that it would be the height of folly
+to lose a certain means of advancing my fortune for the uncertain hope
+of magical protection. I could not bring myself to be of his opinion;
+I had not the courage to follow the advice he gave. The next day
+the lady returned, and my brother sold his vase to her for ten thousand
+pieces of gold. This money he laid out in the most advantageous
+manner, by purchasing a new stock of merchandise. I repented when
+it was too late; but I believe it is part of the fatality attending
+certain persons, that they cannot decide rightly at the proper moment.
+When the opportunity has been lost, I have always regretted that I did
+not do exactly the contrary to what I had previously determined upon.
+Often, whilst I was hesitating, the favourable moment passed.<a name="citation1"></a><a href="#footnote1">[1]</a>
+Now this is what I call being unlucky. But to proceed with my
+story.</p>
+
+<p class="footnote">
+<a name="footnote1"></a><a href="#citation1">[1]</a>
+&ldquo;Whom the gods wish to destroy, they first deprive of understanding.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The lady who bought my brother Saladin&rsquo;s vase was the
+favourite of the Sultan, and all-powerful in the seraglio. Her
+dislike to me, in consequence of my opposition to her wishes, was so
+violent, that she refused to return to my brother&rsquo;s house while
+I remained there. He was unwilling to part with me; but I could
+not bear to be the ruin of so good a brother. Without telling
+him my design, I left his house careless of what should become of me.
+Hunger, however, soon compelled me to think of some immediate mode of
+obtaining relief. I sat down upon a stone, before the door of
+a baker&rsquo;s shop: the smell of hot bread tempted me in, and with
+a feeble voice I demanded charity.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The master baker gave me as much bread as I could eat, upon
+condition that I should change dresses with him and carry the rolls
+for him through the city this day. To this I readily consented;
+but I had soon reason to repent of my compliance. Indeed, if my
+ill-luck had not, as usual, deprived me at this critical moment of memory
+and judgment, I should never have complied with the baker&rsquo;s treacherous
+proposal. For some time before, the people of Constantinople had
+been much dissatisfied with the weight and quality of the bread furnished
+by the bakers. This species of discontent has often been the sure
+forerunner of an insurrection; and, in these disturbances, the master
+bakers frequently lose their lives. All these circumstances I
+knew, but they did not occur to my memory when they might have been
+useful.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I changed dresses with the baker; but scarcely had I proceeded
+through the adjoining streets with my rolls before the mob began to
+gather round me with reproaches and execrations. The crowd pursued
+me even to the gates of the grand seignior&rsquo;s palace, and the grand
+vizier, alarmed at their violence, sent out an order to have my head
+struck off; the usual remedy, in such cases, being to strike off the
+baker&rsquo;s head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I now fell upon my knees, and protested I was not the baker
+for whom they took me; that I had no connection with him; and that I
+had never furnished the people of Constantinople with bread that was
+not weight. I declared I had merely changed clothes with a master
+baker for this day, and that I should not have done so but for the evil
+destiny which governs all my actions. Some of the mob exclaimed
+that I deserved to lose my head for my folly; but others took pity on
+me, and whilst the officer, who was sent to execute the vizier&rsquo;s
+order, turned to speak to some of the noisy rioters, those who were
+touched by my misfortune opened a passage for me through the crowd,
+and thus favoured, I effected my escape.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I quitted Constantinople; my vase I had left in the care of
+my brother. At some miles&rsquo; distance from the city I overtook
+a party of soldiers. I joined them, and learning that they were
+going to embark with the rest of the grand seignior&rsquo;s army for
+Egypt, I resolved to accompany them. &lsquo;If it be,&rsquo; thought
+I, &lsquo;the will of Mahomet that I should perish, the sooner I meet
+my fate the better.&rsquo; The despondency into which I was sunk
+was attended by so great a degree of indolence, that I scarcely would
+take the necessary means to preserve my existence. During our
+passage to Egypt I sat all day long upon the deck of the vessel, smoking
+my pipe, and I am convinced that if a storm had risen, as I expected,
+I should not have taken my pipe from my mouth, nor should I have handled
+a rope to save myself from destruction. Such is the effect of
+that species of resignation, or torpor, whichever you please to call
+it, to which my strong belief in fatality had reduced my mind.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We landed, however, safely, contrary to my melancholy forebodings.
+By a trifling accident, not worth relating, I was detained longer than
+any of my companions in the vessel when we disembarked, and I did not
+arrive at the camp till late at night. It was moonlight, and I
+could see the whole scene distinctly. There was a vast number
+of small tents scattered over a desert of white sand; a few date-trees
+were visible at a distance; all was gloomy, and all still; no sound
+was to be heard but that of the camels feeding near the tents, and,
+as I walked on, I met with no human creature.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My pipe was now out, and I quickened my pace a little towards
+a fire which I saw near one of the tents. As I proceeded, my eye
+was caught by something sparkling in the sand: it was a ring.
+I picked it up and put it on my finger, resolving to give it to the
+public crier the next morning, who might find out its rightful owner;
+but, by ill-luck, I put it on my little finger, for which it was much
+too large, and as I hastened towards the fire to light my pipe, I dropped
+the ring. I stooped to search for it amongst the provender on
+which a mule was feeding, and the cursed animal gave me so violent a
+kick on the head that I could not help roaring aloud.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My cries awakened those who slept in the tent near which the
+mule was feeding. Provoked at being disturbed, the soldiers were
+ready enough to think ill of me, and they took it for granted that I
+was a thief, who had stolen the ring I pretended to have just found.
+The ring was taken from me by force, and the next day I was bastinadoed
+for having found it; the officer persisting in the belief that stripes
+would make me confess where I had concealed certain other articles of
+value which had lately been missed in the camp. All this was the
+consequence of my being in a hurry to light my pipe and of my having
+put the ring on a finger that was too little for it, which no one but
+Murad the Unlucky would have done.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When I was able to walk again, after my wounds were healed,
+I went into one of the tents distinguished by a red flag, having been
+told that these were coffee-houses. Whilst I was drinking coffee
+I heard a stranger near me complaining that he had not been able to
+recover a valuable ring he had lost, although he had caused his loss
+to be published for three days by the public crier, offering a reward
+of two hundred sequins to whoever should restore it. I guessed
+that this was the very ring which I had unfortunately found. I
+addressed myself to the stranger, and promised to point out to him the
+person who had forced it from me. The stranger recovered his ring,
+and, being convinced that I had acted honestly, he made me a present
+of two hundred sequins, as some amends for the punishment which I had
+unjustly suffered on his account.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now you would imagine that this purse of gold was advantageous
+to me. Far the contrary; it was the cause of new misfortunes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One night, when I thought that the soldiers who were in the
+same tent with me were all fast asleep, I indulged myself in the pleasure
+of counting my treasure. The next day I was invited by my companions
+to drink sherbet with them. What they mixed with the sherbet which
+I drank I know not, but I could not resist the drowsiness it brought
+on. I fell into a profound slumber, and when I awoke, I found
+myself lying under a date-tree, at some distance from the camp.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The first thing I thought of when I came to my recollection
+was my purse of sequins. The purse I found still safe in my girdle;
+but on opening it, I perceived that it was filled with pebbles, and
+not a single sequin was left. I had no doubt that I had been robbed
+by the soldiers with whom I had drunk sherbet, and I am certain that
+some of them must have been awake the night I counted my money; otherwise,
+as I had never trusted the secret of my riches to any one, they could
+not have suspected me of possessing any property; for ever since I kept
+company with them I had appeared to be in great indigence.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I applied in vain to the superior officers for redress: the
+soldiers protested they were innocent; no positive proof appeared against
+them, and I gained nothing by my complaint but ridicule and ill-will.
+I called myself, in the first transport of my grief, by that name which,
+since my arrival in Egypt, I had avoided to pronounce: I called myself
+Murad the Unlucky. The name and the story ran through the camp,
+and I was accosted, afterwards, very frequently, by this appellation.
+Some, indeed, varied their wit by calling me Murad with the purse of
+pebbles.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All that I had yet suffered is nothing compared to my succeeding
+misfortunes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was the custom at this time, in the Turkish camp, for the
+soldiers to amuse themselves with firing at a mark. The superior
+officers remonstrated against this dangerous practice, but ineffectually.
+Sometimes a party of soldiers would stop firing for a few minutes, after
+a message was brought them from their commanders, and then they would
+begin again, in defiance of all orders. Such was the want of discipline
+in our army, that this disobedience went unpunished. In the meantime,
+the frequency of the danger made most men totally regardless of it.
+I have seen tents pierced with bullets, in which parties were quietly
+seated smoking their pipes, whilst those without were preparing to take
+fresh aim at the red flag on the top.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This apathy proceeded, in some, from unconquerable indolence
+of body; in others, from the intoxication produced by the fumes of tobacco
+and of opium; but in most of my brother Turks it arose from the confidence
+which the belief in predestination inspired. When a bullet killed
+one of their companions, they only observed, scarcely taking the pipes
+from their mouths, &lsquo;Our hour is not yet come: it is not the will
+of Mahomet that we should fall.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I own that this rash security appeared to me, at first, surprising,
+but it soon ceased to strike me with wonder, and it even tended to confirm
+my favourite opinion, that some were born to good and some to evil fortune.
+I became almost as careless as my companions, from following the same
+course of reasoning. &lsquo;It is not,&rsquo; thought I, &lsquo;in
+the power of human prudence to avert the stroke of destiny. I
+shall perhaps die to-morrow; let me therefore enjoy to-day.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I now made it my study every day to procure as much amusement
+as possible. My poverty, as you will imagine, restricted me from
+indulgence and excess, but I soon found means to spend what did not
+actually belong to me. There were certain Jews who were followers
+of the camp, and who, calculating on the probability of victory for
+our troops, advanced money to the soldiers, for which they engaged to
+pay these usurers exorbitant interest. The Jew to whom I applied
+traded with me also, upon the belief that my brother Saladin, with whose
+character and circumstances he was acquainted, would pay my debts if
+I should fall. With the money I raised from the Jew I continually
+bought coffee and opium, of which I grew immoderately fond. In
+the delirium it created I forgot all my misfortunes, all fear of the
+future.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One day, when I had raised my spirits by an unusual quantity
+of opium, I was strolling through the camp, sometimes singing, sometimes
+dancing, like a madman, and repeating that I was not now Murad the Unlucky.
+Whilst these words were on my lips, a friendly spectator, who was in
+possession of his sober senses, caught me by the arm, and attempted
+to drag me from the place where I was exposing myself. &lsquo;Do
+you not see,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;those soldiers, who are firing at
+a mark? I saw one of them, just now, deliberately taking aim at
+your turban; and observe, he is now reloading his piece.&rsquo;
+My ill luck prevailed even at this instant&mdash;the only instant in
+my life when I defied its power. I struggled with my adviser,
+repeating, &lsquo;I am not the wretch you take me for; I am not Murad
+the Unlucky.&rsquo; He fled from the danger himself; I remained,
+and in a few seconds afterwards a ball reached me, and I fell senseless
+on the sand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The ball was cut out of my body by an awkward surgeon, who
+gave me ten times more pain than was necessary. He was particularly
+hurried at this time, because the army had just received orders to march
+in a few hours, and all was confusion in the camp. My wound was
+excessively painful, and the fear of being left behind with those who
+were deemed incurable added to my torments. Perhaps, if I had
+kept myself quiet, I might have escaped some of the evils I afterwards
+endured; but, as I have repeatedly told you, gentlemen, it was my ill
+fortune never to be able to judge what was best to be done till the
+time for prudence was past.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;During the day, when my fever was at the height, and when
+my orders were to keep my bed, contrary to my natural habits of indolence,
+I rose a hundred times, and went out of my tent in the very heat of
+the day, to satisfy my curiosity as to the number of the tents which
+had not been struck, and of the soldiers who had not yet marched.
+The orders to march were tardily obeyed, and many hours elapsed before
+our encampment was raised. Had I submitted to my surgeon&rsquo;s
+orders, I might have been in a state to accompany the most dilatory
+of the stragglers; I could have borne, perhaps, the slow motion of a
+litter, on which some of the sick were transported; but in the evening,
+when the surgeon came to dress my wounds, he found me in such a situation
+that it was scarcely possible to remove me.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He desired a party of soldiers, who were left to bring up
+the rear, to call for me the next morning. They did so; but they
+wanted to put me upon the mule which I recollected, by a white streak
+on its back, to be the cursed animal that had kicked me whilst I was
+looking for the ring. I could not be prevailed upon to go upon
+this unlucky animal. I tried to persuade the soldiers to carry
+me, and they took me a little way; but, soon growing weary of their
+burden, they laid me down on the sand, pretending that they were going
+to fill a skin with water at a spring they had discovered, and bade
+me lie still, and wait for their return.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I waited and waited, longing for the water to moisten my parched
+lips; but no water came&mdash;no soldiers returned; and there I lay,
+for several hours, expecting every moment to breathe my last.
+I made no effort to move, for I was now convinced my hour was come,
+and that it was the will of Mahomet that I should perish in this miserable
+manner, and lie unburied like a dog: &lsquo;a death,&rsquo; thought
+I, &lsquo;worthy of Murad the Unlucky.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My forebodings were not this time just; a detachment of English
+soldiers passed near the place where I lay: my groans were heard by
+them, and they humanely came to my assistance. They carried me
+with them, dressed my wound, and treated me with the utmost tenderness.
+Christians though they were, I must acknowledge that I had reason to
+love them better than any of the followers of Mahomet, my good brother
+only excepted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Under their care I recovered; but scarcely had I regained
+my strength before I fell into new disasters. It was hot weather,
+and my thirst was excessive. I went out with a party, in hopes
+of finding a spring of water. The English soldiers began to dig
+for a well, in a place pointed out to them by one of their men of science.
+I was not inclined to such hard labour, but preferred sauntering on
+in search of a spring. I saw at a distance something that looked
+like a pool of water; and I pointed it out to my companions. Their
+man of science warned me by his interpreter not to trust to this deceitful
+appearance; for that such were common in this country, and that, when
+I came close to the spot, I should find no water there. He added,
+that it was at a greater distance than I imagined; and that I should,
+in all probability, be lost in the desert if I attempted to follow this
+phantom.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I was so unfortunate as not to attend to his advice: I set
+out in pursuit of this accursed delusion, which assuredly was the work
+of evil spirits, who clouded my reason, and allured me into their dominion.
+I went on, hour after hour, in expectation continually of reaching the
+object of my wishes; but it fled faster than I pursued, and I discovered
+at last that the Englishman, who had doubtless gained his information
+from the people of the country, was right; and that the shining appearance
+which I had taken for water was a mere deception.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I was now exhausted with fatigue: I looked back in vain after
+the companions I had left; I could see neither men, animals, nor any
+trace of vegetation in the sandy desert. I had no resource but,
+weary as I was, to measure back my footsteps, which were imprinted in
+the sand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I slowly and sorrowfully traced them as my guides in this
+unknown land. Instead of yielding to my indolent inclinations,
+I ought, however, to have made the best of my way back, before the evening
+breeze sprang up. I felt the breeze rising, and, unconscious of
+my danger, I rejoiced, and opened my bosom to meet it; but what was
+my dismay when I saw that the wind swept before it all trace of my footsteps
+in the sand. I knew not which way to proceed; I was struck with
+despair, tore my garments, threw off my turban, and cried aloud; but
+neither human voice nor echo answered me. The silence was dreadful.
+I had tasted no food for many hours, and I now became sick and faint.
+I recollected that I had put a supply of opium into the folds of my
+turban; but, alas! when I took my turban up, I found that the opium
+had fallen out. I searched for it in vain on the sand, where I
+had thrown the turban.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I stretched myself out upon the ground, and yielded without
+further struggle to my evil destiny. What I suffered from thirst,
+hunger, and heat cannot be described. At last I fell into a sort
+of trance, during which images of various kinds seemed to flit before
+my eyes. How long I remained in this state I know not: but I remember
+that I was brought to my senses by a loud shout, which came from persons
+belonging to a caravan returning from Mecca. This was a shout
+of joy for their safe arrival at a certain spring, well known to them
+in this part of the desert.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The spring was not a hundred yards from the spot where I lay;
+yet, such had been the fate of Murad the Unlucky, that he missed the
+reality, whilst he had been hours in pursuit of the phantom. Feeble
+and spiritless as I was, I sent forth as loud a cry as I could, in hopes
+of obtaining assistance; and I endeavoured to crawl to the place from
+which the voices appeared to come. The caravan rested for a considerable
+time whilst the slaves filled the skins with water, and whilst the camels
+took in their supply. I worked myself on towards them; yet, notwithstanding
+my efforts, I was persuaded that, according to my usual ill-fortune,
+I should never be able to make them hear my voice. I saw them
+mount their camels! I took off my turban, unrolled it, and waved
+it in the air. My signal was seen! The caravan came towards
+me!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I had scarcely strength to speak; a slave gave me some water,
+and, after I had drunk, I explained to them who I was, and how I came
+into this situation.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Whilst I was speaking, one of the travellers observed the
+purse which hung to my girdle: it was the same the merchant for whom
+I recovered the ring had given to me; I had carefully preserved it,
+because the initials of my benefactor&rsquo;s name and a passage from
+the Koran were worked upon it. When he give it to me, he said
+that perhaps we should meet again in some other part of the world, and
+he should recognise me by this token. The person who now took
+notice of the purse was his brother; and when I related to him how I
+had obtained it, he had the goodness to take me under his protection.
+He was a merchant, who was now going with the caravan to Grand Cairo:
+he offered to take me with him, and I willingly accepted the proposal,
+promising to serve him as faithfully as any of his slaves. The
+caravan proceeded, and I was carried with it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER II</h3>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The merchant, who was become my master, treated me with great
+kindness; but on hearing me relate the whole series of my unfortunate
+adventures, he exacted a promise from me that I would do nothing without
+first consulting him. &lsquo;Since you are so unlucky, Murad,&rsquo;
+said he, &lsquo;that you always choose for the worst when you choose
+for yourself, you should trust entirely to the judgment of a wiser or
+a more fortunate friend.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I fared well in the service of this merchant, who was a man
+of a mild disposition, and who was so rich that he could afford to be
+generous to all his dependants. It was my business to see his
+camels loaded and unloaded at proper places, to count his bales of merchandise,
+and to take care that they were not mixed with those of his companions.
+This I carefully did till the day we arrived at Alexandria; when, unluckily,
+I neglected to count the bales, taking it for granted that they were
+all right, as I had found them so the preceding day. However,
+when we were to go on board the vessel that was to take us to Cairo,
+I perceived that three bales of cotton were missing.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I ran to inform my master, who, though a good deal provoked
+at my negligence, did not reproach me as I deserved. The public
+crier was immediately sent round the city, to offer a reward for the
+recovery of the merchandise; and it was restored by one of the merchants&rsquo;
+slaves with whom we had travelled. The vessel was now under sail;
+my master and I and the bales of cotton were obliged to follow in a
+boat; and when we were taken on board, the captain declared he was so
+loaded, that he could not tell where to stow the bales of cotton.
+After much difficulty, he consented to let them remain upon deck; and
+I promised my master to watch them night and day.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We had a prosperous voyage, and were actually in sight of
+shore, which the captain said we could not fail to reach early the next
+morning. I stayed, as usual, this night upon deck, and solaced
+myself by smoking my pipe. Ever since I had indulged in this practice
+at the camp at El Arish, I could not exist without opium and tobacco.
+I suppose that my reason was this night a little clouded with the dose
+I took; but towards midnight I was sobered by terror. I started
+up from the deck on which I had stretched myself; my turban was in flames&mdash;the
+bale of cotton on which I had rested was all on fire. I awakened
+two sailors, who were fast asleep on deck. The consternation became
+general, and the confusion increased the danger. The captain and
+my master were the most active, and suffered the most, in extinguishing
+the flames&mdash;my master was terribly scorched.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;For my part, I was not suffered to do anything; the captain
+ordered that I should be bound to the mast; and when at last the flames
+were extinguished, the passengers, with one accord, besought him to
+keep me bound hand and foot, lest I should be the cause of some new
+disaster. All that had happened was, indeed, occasioned by my
+ill-luck. I had laid my pipe down, when I was falling asleep,
+upon the bale of cotton that was beside me. The fire from my pipe
+fell out and set the cotton in flames. Such was the mixture of
+rage and terror with which I had inspired the whole crew, that I am
+sure they would have set me ashore on a desert island rather than have
+had me on board for a week longer. Even my humane master, I could
+perceive, was secretly impatient to get rid of Murad the Unlucky and
+his evil fortune.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You may believe that I was heartily glad when we landed, and
+when I was unbound. My master put a purse containing fifty sequins
+into my hand, and bade me farewell. &lsquo;Use this money prudently,
+Murad, if you can,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;and perhaps your fortune may
+change.&rsquo; Of this I had little hopes, but determined to lay
+out my money as prudently as possible.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;As I was walking through the streets of Grand Cairo, considering
+how I should lay out my fifty sequins to the greatest advantage, I was
+stopped by one who called me by my name, and asked me if I could pretend
+to have forgotten his face. I looked steadily at him, and recollected
+to my sorrow that he was the Jew Rachub, from whom I had borrowed certain
+sums of money at the camp at El Arish. What brought him to Grand
+Cairo, except it was my evil destiny, I cannot tell. He would
+not quit me; he would take no excuses; he said he knew that I had deserted
+twice, once from the Turkish and once from the English army; that I
+was not entitled to any pay; and that he could not imagine it possible
+that my brother Saladin would own me or pay my debts.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I replied, for I was vexed by the insolence of this Jewish
+dog, that I was not, as he imagined, a beggar: that I had the means
+of paying him my just debt, but that I hoped he would not extort from
+me all that exorbitant interest which none but a Jew could exact.
+He smiled, and answered that if a Turk loved opium better than money
+this was no fault of his; that he had supplied me with what I loved
+best in the world, and that I ought not to complain when he expected
+I should return the favour.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will not weary you, gentlemen, with all the arguments that
+passed between me and Rachub. At last we compromised matters;
+he would take nothing less than the whole debt: but he let me have at
+a very cheap rate a chest of second-hand clothes, by which he assured
+me I might make my fortune. He brought them to Grand Cairo, he
+said, for the purpose of selling them to slave merchants, who, at this
+time of the year, were in want of them to supply their slaves; but he
+was in haste to get home to his wife and family at Constantinople, and,
+therefore, he was willing to make over to a friend the profits of this
+speculation. I should have distrusted Rachub&rsquo;s professions
+of friendship, and especially of disinterestedness, but he took me with
+him to the khan where his goods were, and unlocked the chest of clothes
+to show them to me. They were of the richest and finest materials,
+and had been but little worn. I could not doubt the evidence of
+my senses; the bargain was concluded, and the Jew sent porters to my
+inn with the chest.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The next day I repaired to the public market-place; and, when
+my business was known, I had choice of customers before night&mdash;my
+chest was empty, and my purse was full. The profit I made upon
+the sale of these clothes was so considerable, that I could not help
+feeling astonishment at Rachub&rsquo;s having brought himself so readily
+to relinquish them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A few days after I had disposed of the contents of my chest,
+a Damascene merchant, who had bought two suits of apparel from me, told
+me, with a very melancholy face, that both the female slaves who had
+put on these clothes were sick. I could not conceive that the
+clothes were the cause of their sickness; but soon afterwards, as I
+was crossing the market, I was attacked by at least a dozen merchants,
+who made similar complaints. They insisted upon knowing how I
+came by the garments, and demanded whether I had worn any of them myself.
+This day I had, for the first time, indulged myself with wearing a pair
+of yellow slippers, the only finery I had reserved for myself out of
+all the tempting goods. Convinced by my wearing these slippers
+that I could have had no insidious designs, since I shared the danger,
+whatever it might be, the merchants were a little pacified; but what
+was my terror and remorse the next day, when one of them came to inform
+me that plague-boils had broken out under the arms of all the slaves
+who had worn this pestilential apparel! On looking carefully into
+the chest, we found the word &lsquo;Smyrna&rsquo; written, and half
+effaced, upon the lid. Now, the plague had for some time raged
+at Smyrna; and, as the merchants suspected, these clothes had certainly
+belonged to persons who had died of that distemper. This was the
+reason why the Jew was willing to sell them to me so cheap; and it was
+for this reason that he would not stay at Grand Cairo himself to reap
+the profits of his speculation. Indeed, if I had paid attention
+to it at the proper time, a slight circumstance might have revealed
+the truth to me. Whilst I was bargaining with the Jew, before
+he opened the chest, he swallowed a large dram of brandy, and stuffed
+his nostrils with sponge dipped in vinegar; he told me, he did to prevent
+his perceiving the smell of musk, which always threw him into convulsions.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The horror I felt when I discovered that I had spread the
+infection of the plague, and that I had probably caught it myself, overpowered
+my senses&mdash;a cold dew spread over all my limbs, and I fell upon
+the lid of the fatal chest in a swoon. It is said that fear disposes
+people to take the infection; however this may be, I sickened that evening,
+and soon was in a raging fever. It was worse for me whenever the
+delirium left me, and I could reflect upon the miseries my ill-fortune
+had occasioned. In my first lucid interval I looked round, and
+saw that I had been removed from the khan to a wretched hut. An
+old woman, who was smoking her pipe in the farthest corner of my room,
+informed me that I had been sent out of the town of Grand Cairo by order
+of the cadi, to whom the merchants had made their complaint. The
+fatal chest was burnt, and the house in which I had lodged razed to
+the ground. &lsquo;And if it had not been for me,&rsquo; continued
+the old woman, &lsquo;you would have been dead probably at this instant;
+but I have made a vow to our great Prophet that I would never neglect
+an opportunity of doing a good action; therefore, when you were deserted
+by all the world, I took care of you. Here, too, is your purse,
+which I saved from the rabble&mdash;and, what is more difficult, from
+the officers of justice. I will account to you for every part
+that I have expended; and will, moreover, tell you the reason of my
+making such an extraordinary vow.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;As I believed that this benevolent old woman took great pleasure
+in talking, I made an inclination of my head to thank her for her promised
+history, and she proceeded; but I must confess I did not listen with
+all the attention her narrative doubtless deserved. Even curiosity,
+the strongest passion of us Turks, was dead within me. I have
+no recollection of the old woman&rsquo;s story. It is as much
+as I can do to finish my own.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The weather became excessively hot; it was affirmed by some
+of the physicians that this heat would prove fatal to their patients;
+but, contrary to the prognostics of the physicians, it stopped the progress
+of the plague. I recovered, and found my purse much lightened
+by my illness. I divided the remainder of my money with my humane
+nurse, and sent her out into the city to inquire how matters were going
+on.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She brought me word that the fury of the plague had much abated,
+but that she had met several funerals, and that she had heard many of
+the merchants cursing the folly of Murad the Unlucky, who, as they said,
+had brought all this calamity upon the inhabitants of Cairo. Even
+fools, they say, learn by experience. I took care to burn the
+bed on which I had lain and the clothes I had worn; I concealed my real
+name, which I knew would inspire detestation, and gained admittance,
+with a crowd of other poor wretches, into a lazaretto, where I performed
+quarantine and offered up prayers daily for the sick.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When I thought it was impossible I could spread the infection,
+I took my passage home. I was eager to get away from Grand Cairo,
+where I knew I was an object of execration. I had a strange fancy
+haunting my mind; I imagined that all my misfortunes, since I left Constantinople,
+had arisen from my neglect of the talisman upon the beautiful china
+vase. I dreamed three times, when I was recovering from the plague,
+that a genius appeared to me, and said, in a reproachful tone, &lsquo;Murad,
+where is the vase that was entrusted to thy care?&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This dream operated strongly upon my imagination. As
+soon as we arrived at Constantinople, which we did, to my great surprise,
+without meeting with any untoward accidents, I went in search of my
+brother Saladin to inquire for my vase. He no longer lived in
+the house in which I left him, and I began to be apprehensive that he
+was dead, but a porter, hearing my inquiries, exclaimed, &lsquo;Who
+is there in Constantinople that is ignorant of the dwelling of Saladin
+the Lucky? Come with me, and I will show it to you.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The mansion to which he conducted me looked so magnificent
+that I was almost afraid to enter lest there should be some mistake.
+But whilst I was hesitating the doors opened, and I heard my brother
+Saladin&rsquo;s voice. He saw me almost at the same instant that
+I fixed my eyes upon him, and immediately sprang forward to embrace
+me. He was the same good brother as ever, and I rejoiced in his
+prosperity with all my heart. &lsquo;Brother Saladin,&rsquo; said
+I, &lsquo;can you now doubt that some men are born to be fortunate and
+others to be unfortunate? How often you used to dispute this point
+with me!&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Let us not dispute it now in the public street,&rsquo;
+said he, smiling; &lsquo;but come in and refresh yourself, and we will
+consider the question afterwards at leisure.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;No, my dear brother,&rsquo; said I, drawing back, &lsquo;you
+are too good: Murad the Unlucky shall not enter your house, lest he
+should draw down misfortunes upon you and yours. I come only to
+ask for my vase.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;It is safe,&rsquo; cried he; &lsquo;come in, and you
+shall see it: but I will not give it up till I have you in my house.
+I have none of these superstitious fears: pardon me the expression,
+but I have none of these superstitious fears.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I yielded, entered his house, and was astonished at all I
+saw. My brother did not triumph in his prosperity; but, on the
+contrary, seemed intent only upon making me forget my misfortunes: he
+listened to the account of them with kindness, and obliged me by the
+recital of his history: which was, I must acknowledge, far less wonderful
+than my own. He seemed, by his own account, to have grown rich
+in the common course of things; or rather, by his own prudence.
+I allowed for his prejudices, and, unwilling to dispute farther with
+him, said, &lsquo;You must remain of your opinion, brother, and I of
+mine; you are Saladin the Lucky, and I Murad the Unlucky; and so we
+shall remain to the end of our lives.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I had not been in his house four days when an accident happened,
+which showed how much I was in the right. The favourite of the
+sultan, to whom he had formerly sold his china vase, though her charms
+were now somewhat faded by time, still retained her power and her taste
+for magnificence. She commissioned my brother to bespeak for her,
+at Venice, the most splendid looking-glass that money could purchase.
+The mirror, after many delays and disappointments, at length arrived
+at my brother&rsquo;s house. He unpacked it, and sent to let the
+lady know it was in perfect safety. It was late in the evening,
+and she ordered it should remain where it was that night, and that it
+should be brought to the seraglio the next morning. It stood in
+a sort of ante-chamber to the room in which I slept; and with it were
+left some packages, containing glass chandeliers for an unfinished saloon
+in my brother&rsquo;s house. Saladin charged all his domestics
+to be vigilant this night, because he had money to a great amount by
+him, and there had been frequent robberies in our neighbourhood.
+Hearing these orders, I resolved to be in readiness at a moment&rsquo;s
+warning. I laid my scimitar beside me upon a cushion, and left
+my door half open, that I might hear the slightest noise in the ante-chamber
+or the great staircase. About midnight I was suddenly awakened
+by a noise in the ante-chamber. I started up, seized my scimitar,
+and the instant I got to the door, saw, by the light of the lamp which
+was burning in the room, a man standing opposite to me, with a drawn
+sword in his hand. I rushed forward, demanding what he wanted,
+and received no answer; but seeing him aim at me with his scimitar,
+I gave him, as I thought, a deadly blow. At this instant I heard
+a great crash; and the fragments of the looking-glass, which I had shivered,
+fell at my feet. At the same moment something black brushed by
+my shoulder: I pursued it, stumbled over the packages of glass, and
+rolled over them down the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My brother came out of his room to inquire the cause of all
+this disturbance; and when he saw the fine mirror broken, and me lying
+amongst the glass chandeliers at the bottom of the stairs, he could
+not forbear exclaiming, &lsquo;Well, brother! you are indeed Murad the
+Unlucky.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When the first emotion was over, he could not, however, forbear
+laughing at my situation. With a degree of goodness, which made
+me a thousand times more sorry for the accident, he came downstairs
+to help me up, gave me his hand, and said, &lsquo;Forgive me if I was
+angry with you at first. I am sure you did not mean to do me any
+injury; but tell me how all this has happened?&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Whilst Saladin was speaking, I heard the same kind of noise
+which had alarmed me in the ante-chamber; but, on looking back, I saw
+only a black pigeon, which flew swiftly by me, unconscious of the mischief
+he had occasioned. This pigeon I had unluckily brought into the
+house the preceding day; and had been feeding and trying to tame it
+for my young nephews. I little thought it would be the cause of
+such disasters. My brother, though he endeavoured to conceal his
+anxiety from me, was much disturbed at the idea of meeting the favourite&rsquo;s
+displeasure, who would certainly be grievously disappointed by the loss
+of her splendid looking-glass. I saw that I should inevitably
+be his ruin if I continued in his house; and no persuasions could prevail
+upon me to prolong my stay. My generous brother, seeing me determined
+to go, said to me, &lsquo;A factor, whom I have employed for some years
+to sell merchandise for me, died a few days ago. Will you take
+his place? I am rich enough to bear any little mistakes you may
+fall into from ignorance of business; and you will have a partner who
+is able and willing to assist you.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I was touched to the heart by this kindness, especially at
+such a time as this. He sent one of his slaves with me to the
+shop in which you now see me, gentlemen. The slave, by my brother&rsquo;s
+directions, brought with us my china vase, and delivered it safely to
+me, with this message: &lsquo;The scarlet dye that was found in this
+vase, and in its fellow, was the first cause of Saladin&rsquo;s making
+the fortune he now enjoys: he therefore does no more than justice in
+sharing that fortune with his brother Murad.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I was now placed in as advantageous a situation as possible;
+but my mind was ill at ease when I reflected that the broken mirror
+might be my brother&rsquo;s ruin. The lady by whom it had been
+bespoken was, I well knew, of a violent temper; and this disappointment
+was sufficient to provoke her to vengeance. My brother sent me
+word this morning, however, that though her displeasure was excessive,
+it was in my power to prevent any ill consequences that might ensue.
+&lsquo;In my power!&rsquo; I exclaimed; &lsquo;then, indeed, I am happy!
+Tell my brother there is nothing I will not do to show him my gratitude
+and to save him from the consequences of my folly.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The slave who was sent by my brother seemed unwilling to name
+what was required of me, saying that his master was afraid I should
+not like to grant the request. I urged him to speak freely, and
+he then told me the favourite declared nothing would make her amends
+for the loss of the mirror but the fellow-vase to that which she had
+bought from Saladin. It was impossible for me to hesitate; gratitude
+for my brother&rsquo;s generous kindness overcame my superstitious obstinacy,
+and I sent him word I would carry the vase to him myself.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I took it down this evening from the shelf on which it stood;
+it was covered with dust, and I washed it, but, unluckily, in endeavouring
+to clean the inside from the remains of the scarlet powder, I poured
+hot water into it, and immediately I heard a simmering noise, and my
+vase, in a few instants, burst asunder with a loud explosion.
+These fragments, alas! are all that remain. The measure of my
+misfortunes is now completed! Can you wonder, gentlemen, that
+I bewail my evil destiny? Am I not justly called Murad the Unlucky?
+Here end all my hopes in this world! Better would it have been
+if I had died long ago! Better that I had never been born!
+Nothing I ever have done or attempted has prospered. Murad the
+Unlucky is my name, and ill-fate has marked me for her own.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER III</h3>
+
+<p>The lamentations of Murad were interrupted by the entrance of Saladin.
+Having waited in vain for some hours, he now came to see if any disaster
+had happened to his brother Murad. He was surprised at the sight
+of the two pretended merchants, and could not refrain from exclamations
+on beholding the broken vase. However, with his usual equanimity
+and good-nature, he began to console Murad; and, taking up the fragments,
+examined them carefully, one by one joined them together again, found
+that none of the edges of the china were damaged, and declared he could
+have it mended so as to look as well as ever.</p>
+
+<p>Murad recovered his spirits upon this. &ldquo;Brother,&rdquo;
+said he, &ldquo;I comfort myself for being Murad the Unlucky when I
+reflect that you are Saladin the Lucky. See, gentlemen,&rdquo;
+continued he, turning to the pretended merchants, &ldquo;scarcely has
+this most fortunate of men been five minutes in company before he gives
+a happy turn to affairs. His presence inspires joy: I observe
+your countenances, which had been saddened by my dismal history, have
+brightened up since he has made his appearance. Brother, I wish
+you would make these gentlemen some amends for the time they have wasted
+in listening to my catalogue of misfortunes by relating your history,
+which, I am sure, they will find rather more exhilarating.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Saladin consented, on condition that the strangers would accompany
+him home and partake of a social banquet. They at first repeated
+the former excuse of their being obliged to return to their inn; but
+at length the sultan&rsquo;s curiosity prevailed, and he and his vizier
+went home with Saladin the Lucky, who, after supper, related his history
+in the following manner:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My being called Saladin the Lucky first inspired me with confidence
+in myself; though I own that I cannot remember any extraordinary instances
+of good luck in my childhood. An old nurse of my mother&rsquo;s,
+indeed, repeated to me twenty times a day that nothing I undertook could
+fail to succeed, because I was Saladin the Lucky. I became presumptuous
+and rash; and my nurse&rsquo;s prognostics might have effectually prevented
+their accomplishment had I not, when I was about fifteen, been roused
+to reflection during a long confinement, which was the consequence of
+my youthful conceit and imprudence.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At this time there was at the Porte a Frenchman, an ingenious
+engineer, who was employed and favoured by the sultan, to the great
+astonishment of many of my prejudiced countrymen. On the grand
+seignior&rsquo;s birthday he exhibited some extraordinarily fine fireworks;
+and I, with numbers of the inhabitants of Constantinople, crowded to
+see them. I happened to stand near the place where the Frenchman
+was stationed; the crowd pressed upon him, and I amongst the rest; he
+begged we would, for our own sakes, keep at a greater distance, and
+warned us that we might be much hurt by the combustibles which he was
+using. I, relying upon my good fortune, disregarded all these
+cautions; and the consequence was that, as I touched some of the materials
+prepared for the fireworks, they exploded, dashed me upon the ground
+with great violence, and I was terribly burnt.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This accident, gentlemen, I consider as one of the most fortunate
+circumstances of my life; for it checked and corrected the presumption
+of my temper. During the time I was confined to my bed the French
+gentleman came frequently to see me. He was a very sensible man;
+and the conversations he had with me enlarged my mind and cured me of
+many foolish prejudices, especially of that which I had been taught
+to entertain concerning the predominance of what is called luck or fortune
+in human affairs. &lsquo;Though you are called Saladin the Lucky,&rsquo;
+said he, &lsquo;you find that your neglect of prudence has nearly brought
+you to the grave even in the bloom of youth. Take my advice, and
+henceforward trust more to prudence than to fortune. Let the multitude,
+if they will, call you Saladin the Lucky; but call yourself, and make
+yourself, Saladin the Prudent.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;These words left an indelible impression on my mind, and gave
+a new turn to my thoughts and character. My brother, Murad, has
+doubtless told you our difference of opinion on the subject of predestination
+produced between us frequent arguments; but we could never convince
+one another, and we each have acted, through life, in consequence of
+our different beliefs. To this I attribute my success and his
+misfortunes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The first rise of my fortune, as you have probably heard from
+Murad, was owing to the scarlet dye, which I brought to perfection with
+infinite difficulty. The powder, it is true, was accidentally
+found by me in our china vases; but there it might have remained to
+this instant, useless, if I had not taken the pains to make it useful.
+I grant that we can only partially foresee and command events; yet on
+the use we make of our own powers, I think, depends our destiny.
+But, gentlemen, you would rather hear my adventures, perhaps, than my
+reflections; and I am truly concerned, for your sakes, that I have no
+wonderful events to relate. I am sorry I cannot tell you of my
+having been lost in a sandy desert. I have never had the plague,
+nor even been shipwrecked: I have been all my life an inhabitant of
+Constantinople, and have passed my time in a very quiet and uniform
+manner.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The money I received from the sultan&rsquo;s favourite for
+my china vase, as my brother may have told you, enabled me to trade
+on a more extensive scale. I went on steadily with my business,
+and made it my whole study to please my employers by all fair and honourable
+means. This industry and civility succeeded beyond my expectations:
+in a few years I was rich for a man in my way of business.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will not proceed to trouble you with the journal of a petty
+merchant&rsquo;s life; I pass on to the incident which made a considerable
+change in my affairs.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A terrible fire broke out near the walls of the grand seignior&rsquo;s
+seraglio. As you are strangers, gentlemen, you may not have heard
+of this event, though it produced so great a sensation in Constantinople.
+The vizier&rsquo;s superb palace was utterly consumed, and the melted
+lead poured down from the roof of the mosque of St. Sophia. Various
+were the opinions formed by my neighbours respecting the cause of the
+conflagration. Some supposed it to be a punishment for the sultan&rsquo;s
+having neglected one Friday to appear at the mosque of St. Sophia; others
+considered it as a warning sent by Mahomet to dissuade the Porte from
+persisting in a war in which we were just engaged. The generality,
+however, of the coffee-house politicians contented themselves with observing
+that it was the will of Mahomet that the palace should be consumed.
+Satisfied by this supposition, they took no precaution to prevent similar
+accidents in their own houses. Never were fires so common in the
+city as at this period; scarcely a night passed without our being wakened
+by the cry of fire.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;These frequent fires were rendered still more dreadful by
+villains, who were continually on the watch to increase the confusion
+by which they profited, and to pillage the houses of the sufferers.
+It was discovered that these incendiaries frequently skulked, towards
+evening, in the neighbourhood of the bezestein, where the richest merchants
+store their goods. Some of these wretches were detected in throwing
+<i>coundaks</i>, or matches, into the windows; and if these combustibles
+remained a sufficient time, they could not fail to set the house on
+fire.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Notwithstanding all these circumstances, many even of those
+who had property to preserve continued to repeat, &lsquo;It is the will
+of Mahomet,&rsquo; and consequently to neglect all means of preservation.
+I, on the contrary, recollecting the lesson I had learned from the sensible
+foreigner, neither suffered my spirits to sink with superstitious fears
+of ill-luck, nor did I trust presumptuously to my good fortune.
+I took every possible means to secure myself. I never went to
+bed without having seen that all the lights and fires in the house were
+extinguished, and that I had a supply of water in the cistern.
+I had likewise learned from my Frenchman that wet mortar was the most
+effectual thing for stopping the progress of flames. I, therefore,
+had a quantity of mortar made up in one of my outhouses, which I could
+use at a moment&rsquo;s warning. These precautions were all useful
+to me. My own house, indeed, was never actually on fire; but the
+houses of my next-door neighbours were no less than five times in flames
+in the course of one winter. By my exertions, or rather by my
+precautions, they suffered but little damage, and all my neighbours
+looked upon me as their deliverer and friend; they loaded me with presents,
+and offered more, indeed, than I would accept. All repeated that
+I was Saladin the Lucky. This compliment I disclaimed, feeling
+more ambitious of being called Saladin the Prudent. It is thus
+that what we call modesty is often only a more refined species of pride.
+But to proceed with my story.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One night I had been later than usual at supper at a friend&rsquo;s
+house; none but the watch were in the streets, and even they, I believe,
+were asleep.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;As I passed one of the conduits which convey water to the
+city, I heard a trickling noise; and, upon examination, I found that
+the cock of the water-spout was half turned, so that the water was running
+out. I turned it back to its proper place, thought it had been
+left unturned by accident, and walked on; but I had not proceeded far
+before I came to another spout, and another, which were in the same
+condition. I was convinced that this could not be the effect merely
+of accident, and suspected that some ill-intentioned persons designed
+to let out and waste the water of the city, that there might be none
+to extinguish any fire that should break out in the course of the night.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I stood still for a few moments, to consider how it would
+be most prudent to act. It would be impossible for me to run to
+all parts of the city, that I might stop the pipes that were running
+to waste. I first thought of wakening the watch and the firemen,
+who were most of them slumbering at their stations; but I reflected
+that they were perhaps not to be trusted, and that they were in a confederacy
+with the incendiaries, otherwise they would certainly before this hour
+have observed and stopped the running of the sewers in their neighbourhood.
+I determined to waken a rich merchant, called Damat Zade, who lived
+near me, and who had a number of slaves whom he could send to different
+parts of the city, to prevent mischief and give notice to the inhabitants
+of their danger.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He was a very sensible, active man, and one that could easily
+be wakened; he was not like some Turks, an hour in recovering their
+lethargic senses. He was quick in decision and action; and his
+slaves resembled their master. He despatched a messenger immediately
+to the grand vizier, that the sultan&rsquo;s safety might be secured,
+and sent others to the magistrates in each quarter of Constantinople.
+The large drums in the janissary aga&rsquo;s tower beat to rouse the
+inhabitants; and scarcely had they been heard to beat half an hour before
+the fire broke out in the lower apartments of Damat Zade&rsquo;s house,
+owing to a <i>coundak</i> which had been left behind one of the doors.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The wretches who had prepared the mischief came to enjoy it,
+and to pillage; but they were disappointed. Astonished to find
+themselves taken into custody, they could not comprehend how their designs
+had been frustrated. By timely exertions, the fire in my friend&rsquo;s
+house was extinguished; and though fires broke out during the night
+in many parts of the city, but little damage was sustained, because
+there was time for precautions, and, by the stopping of the spouts,
+sufficient water was preserved. People were awakened and warned
+of the danger, and they consequently escaped unhurt.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The next day, as soon as I made my appearance at the bezestein,
+the merchants crowded round, called me their benefactor, and the preserver
+of their lives and fortunes. Damat Zade, the merchant whom I had
+awakened the preceding night, presented to me a heavy purse of gold,
+and put upon my finger a diamond ring of considerable value; each of
+the merchants followed his example in making me rich presents; the magistrates
+also sent me tokens of their approbation; and the grand vizier sent
+me a diamond of the first water, with a line written by his own hand,
+&lsquo;To the man who has saved Constantinople.&rsquo; Excuse
+me, gentlemen, for the vanity I seem to show in mentioning these circumstances.
+You desired to hear my history, and I cannot, therefore, omit the principal
+circumstance of my life. In the course of four-and-twenty hours
+I found myself raised, by the munificent gratitude of the inhabitants
+of this city, to a state of affluence far beyond what I had ever dreamed
+of attaining.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I now took a house suited to my circumstances, and bought
+a few slaves. As I was carrying my slaves home, I was met by a
+Jew, who stopped me, saying, in his language, &lsquo;My lord, I see,
+has been purchasing slaves; I could clothe them cheaply.&rsquo;
+There was something mysterious in the manner of this Jew, and I did
+not like his countenance; but I considered that I ought not to be governed
+by caprice in my dealings, and that, if this man could really clothe
+my slaves more cheaply than another, I ought not to neglect his offer
+merely because I took a dislike to the cut of his beard, the turn of
+his eye, or the tone of his voice. I, therefore, bade the Jew
+follow me home, saying that I would consider of his proposal.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When we came to talk over the matter, I was surprised to find
+him so reasonable in his demands. On one point, indeed, he appeared
+unwilling to comply. I required not only to see the clothes I
+was offered, but also to know how they came into his possession.
+On this subject he equivocated; I, therefore, suspected there must be
+something wrong. I reflected what it could be, and judged that
+the goods had been stolen, or that they had been the apparel of persons
+who had died of some contagious distemper. The Jew showed me a
+chest, from which he said I might choose whatever suited me best.
+I observed that, as he was going to unlock the chest, he stuffed his
+nose with some aromatic herbs. He told me that he did so to prevent
+his smelling the musk with which the chest was perfumed; musk, he said,
+had an extraordinary effect upon his nerves. I begged to have
+some of the herbs which he used himself, declaring that musk was likewise
+offensive to me.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Jew, either struck by his own conscience or observing
+my suspicions, turned as pale as death. He pretended he had not
+the right key, and could not unlock the chest; said he must go in search
+of it, and that he would call on me again.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;After he had left me, I examined some writing upon the lid
+of the chest that had been nearly effaced. I made out the word
+&lsquo;Smyrna,&rsquo; and this was sufficient to confirm all my suspicions.
+The Jew returned no more; he sent some porters to carry away the chest,
+and I heard nothing of him for some time, till one day, when I was at
+the house of Damat Zade, I saw a glimpse of the Jew passing hastily
+through one of the courts, as if he wished to avoid me. &lsquo;My
+friend,&rsquo; said I to Damat Zade, &lsquo;do not attribute my question
+to impertinent curiosity, or to a desire to intermeddle with your affairs,
+if I venture to ask the nature of your business with the Jew who has
+just now crossed your court?&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;He has engaged to supply me with clothing for my slaves,&rsquo;
+replied my friend, &lsquo;cheaper than I can purchase it elsewhere.
+I have a design to surprise my daughter Fatima, on her birthday, with
+an entertainment in the pavilion in the garden, and all her female slaves
+shall appear in new dresses on the occasion.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I interrupted my friend, to tell him what I suspected relative
+to this Jew and his chest of clothes. It is certain that the infection
+of the plague can be communicated by clothes, not only after months,
+but after years have elapsed. The merchant resolved to have nothing
+more to do with this wretch, who could thus hazard the lives of thousands
+of his follow-creatures for a few pieces of gold. We sent notice
+of the circumstance to the cadi, but the cadi was slow in his operations;
+and before he could take the Jew into custody the cunning fellow had
+effected his escape. When his house was searched, he and his chest
+had disappeared. We discovered that he sailed for Egypt, and rejoiced
+that we had driven him from Constantinople.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My friend, Damat Zade, expressed the warmest gratitude to
+me. &lsquo;You formerly saved my fortune; you have now saved my
+life, and a life yet dearer than my own: that of my daughter Fatima.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At the sound of that name I could not, I believe, avoid showing
+some emotion. I had accidentally seen this lady, and I had been
+captivated by her beauty and by the sweetness of her countenance; but
+as I knew she was destined to be the wife of another, I suppressed my
+feeling, and determined to banish the recollection of the fair Fatima
+for ever from my imagination. Her father, however, at this instant
+threw into my way a temptation which it required all my fortitude to
+resist. &lsquo;Saladin,&rsquo; continued he, &lsquo;it is but
+just that you, who have saved our lives, should share our festivity.
+Come here on the birthday of my Fatima; I will place you in a balcony
+which overlooks the garden, and you shall see the whole spectacle.
+We shall have a <i>feast of tulips</i>, in imitation of that which,
+as you know, is held in the grand seignior&rsquo;s gardens. I
+assure you the sight will be worth seeing; and besides, you will have
+a chance of beholding my Fatima, for a moment, without her veil.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;That,&rsquo; interrupted I, &lsquo;is the thing I most
+wish to avoid. I dare not indulge myself in a pleasure which might
+cost me the happiness of my life. I will conceal nothing from
+you, who treat me with so much confidence. I have already beheld
+the charming countenance of your Fatima, but I know that she is destined
+to be the wife of a happier man.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Damat Zade seemed much pleased by the frankness with which
+I explained myself; but he would not give up the idea of my sitting
+with him in the balcony on the day of the feast of tulips; and I, on
+my part, could not consent to expose myself to another view of the charming
+Fatima. My friend used every argument, or rather every sort of
+persuasion, he could imagine to prevail upon me; he then tried to laugh
+me out of my resolution; and, when all failed, he said, in a voice of
+anger, &lsquo;Go, then, Saladin: I am sure you are deceiving me; you
+have a passion for some other woman, and you would conceal it from me,
+and persuade me you refuse the favour I offer you from prudence, when,
+in fact, it is from indifference and contempt. Why could you not
+speak the truth of your heart to me with that frankness with which one
+friend should treat another?&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Astonished at this unexpected charge, and at the anger which
+flashed from the eyes of Damat Zade, who till this moment had always
+appeared to me a man of a mild and reasonable temper, I was for an instant
+tempted to fly into a passion and leave him; but friends, once lost,
+are not easily regained. This consideration had power sufficient
+to make me command my temper. &lsquo;My friend,&rsquo; replied
+I, &lsquo;we will talk over this affair to-morrow. You are now
+angry, and cannot do me justice, but to-morrow you will be cool; you
+will then be convinced that I have not deceived you, and that I have
+no design but to secure my own happiness, by the most prudent means
+in my power, by avoiding the sight of the dangerous Fatima. I
+have no passion for any other woman.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Then,&rsquo; said my friend, embracing me, and quitting
+the tone of anger which he had assumed only to try my resolution to
+the utmost, &lsquo;Then, Saladin, Fatima is yours.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I scarcely dared to believe my senses; I could not express
+my joy! &lsquo;Yes, my friend,&rsquo; continued the merchant,
+&lsquo;I have tried your prudence to the utmost, it has been victorious,
+and I resign my Fatima to you, certain that you will make her happy.
+It is true I had a greater alliance in view for her&mdash;the Pacha
+of Maksoud has demanded her from me; but I have found, upon private
+inquiry, he is addicted to the intemperate use of opium, and my daughter
+shall never be the wife of one who is a violent madman one-half the
+day and a melancholy idiot during the remainder. I have nothing
+to apprehend from the pacha&rsquo;s resentment, because I have powerful
+friends with the grand vizier, who will oblige him to listen to reason,
+and to submit quietly to a disappointment he so justly merits.
+And now, Saladin, have you any objection to seeing the feast of tulips?&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I replied only by falling at the merchant&rsquo;s feet, and
+embracing his knees. The feast of tulips came and on that day
+I was married to the charming Fatima! The charming Fatima I continue
+still to think her, though she has now been my wife some years.
+She is the joy and pride of my heart; and, from our mutual affection,
+I have experienced more felicity than from all the other circumstances
+of my life, which are called so fortunate. Her father gave me
+the house in which I now live, and joined his possessions to ours; so
+that I have more wealth even than I desire. My riches, however,
+give me continually the means of relieving the wants of others; and
+therefore I cannot affect to despise them. I must persuade my
+brother Murad to share them with me, and to forget his misfortunes:
+I shall then think myself completely happy. As to the sultana&rsquo;s
+looking-glass and your broken vase, my dear brother,&rdquo; continued
+Saladin, &ldquo;we must think of some means&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Think no more of the sultana&rsquo;s looking-glass or of the
+broken vase,&rdquo; exclaimed the sultan, throwing aside his merchant&rsquo;s
+habit, and showing beneath it his own imperial vest. &ldquo;Saladin,
+I rejoice to have heard, from your own lips, the history of your life.
+I acknowledge, vizier, I have been in the wrong in our argument,&rdquo;
+continued the sultan, turning to his vizier. &ldquo;I acknowledge
+that the histories of Saladin the Lucky and Murad the Unlucky favour
+your opinion, that prudence has more influence than chance in human
+affairs. The success and happiness of Saladin seem to me to have
+arisen from his prudence: by that prudence Constantinople has been saved
+from flames and from the plague. Had Murad possessed his brother&rsquo;s
+discretion, he would not have been on the point of losing his head,
+for selling rolls which he did not bake: he would not have been kicked
+by a mule or bastinadoed for finding a ring: he would not have been
+robbed by one party of soldiers, or shot by another: he would not have
+been lost in a desert, or cheated by a Jew: he would not have set a
+ship on fire; nor would he have caught the plague, and spread it through
+Grand Cairo: he would not have run my sultana&rsquo;s looking-glass
+through the body, instead of a robber: he would not have believed that
+the fate of his life depended on certain verses on a china vase: nor
+would he, at last, have broken this precious talisman, by washing it
+with hot water. Henceforward, let Murad the Unlucky be named Murad
+the Imprudent: let Saladin preserve the surname he merits, and be henceforth
+called Saladin the Prudent.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So spake the sultan, who, unlike the generality of monarchs, could
+bear to find himself in the wrong, and could discover his vizier to
+be in the right without cutting off his head. History farther
+informs us that the sultan offered to make Saladin a pacha, and to commit
+to him the government of a province; but, Saladin the Prudent declined
+this honour, saying he had no ambition, was perfectly happy in his present
+situation, and that, when this was the case, it would be folly to change,
+because no one can be more than happy. What farther adventures
+befell Murad the Imprudent are not recorded; it is known only that he
+became a daily visitor to the Teriaky, and that he died a martyr to
+the immoderate use of opium.</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap03"></a>THE LIMERICK GLOVES</h2>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER I</h3>
+
+<p>It was Sunday morning, and a fine day in autumn; the bells of Hereford
+Cathedral rang, and all the world, smartly dressed, were flocking to
+church.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mrs. Hill! Mrs. Hill!&mdash;Phœbe! Phœbe! There&rsquo;s
+the cathedral bell, I say, and neither of you ready for church, and
+I a verger,&rdquo; cried Mr. Hill, the tanner, as he stood at the bottom
+of his own staircase. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m ready, papa,&rdquo; replied
+Phœbe; and down she came, looking so clean, so fresh, and so gay, that
+her stern father&rsquo;s brows unbent, and he could only say to her,
+as she was drawing on a new pair of gloves, &ldquo;Child, you ought
+to have had those gloves on before this time of day.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Before this time of day!&rdquo; cried Mrs. Hill, who was now
+coming downstairs completely equipped&mdash;&ldquo;before this time
+of day! She should know better, I say, than to put on those gloves
+at all: more especially when going to the cathedral.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The gloves are very good gloves, as far as I see,&rdquo; replied
+Mr. Hill. &ldquo;But no matter now. It is more fitting that
+we should be in proper time in our pew, to set an example, as becomes
+us, than to stand here talking of gloves and nonsense.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He offered his wife and daughter each an arm, and set out for the
+cathedral; but Phœbe was too busy in drawing on her new gloves, and
+her mother was too angry at the sight of them, to accept of Mr. Hill&rsquo;s
+courtesy. &ldquo;What I say is always nonsense, I know, Mr. Hill,&rdquo;
+resumed the matron: &ldquo;but I can see as far into a millstone as
+other folks. Was it not I that first gave you a hint of what became
+of the great dog that we lost out of our tan-yard last winter?
+And was it not I who first took notice to you, Mr. Hill, verger as you
+are, of the hole under the foundation of the cathedral? Was it
+not, I ask you, Mr. Hill?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, my dear Mrs. Hill, what has all this to do with Phœbe&rsquo;s
+gloves?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Are you blind, Mr. Hill? Don&rsquo;t you see that they
+are Limerick gloves?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What of that?&rdquo; said Mr. Hill, still preserving his composure,
+as it was his custom to do as long as he could, when he saw his wife
+was ruffled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What of that, Mr. Hill! why, don&rsquo;t you know that Limerick
+is in Ireland, Mr. Hill?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;With all my heart, my dear.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, and with all your heart, I suppose, Mr. Hill, you would
+see our cathedral blown up, some fair day or other, and your own daughter
+married to the person that did it; and you a verger, Mr. Hill.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;God forbid!&rdquo; cried Mr, Hill; and he stopped short and
+settled his wig. Presently recovering himself, he added, &ldquo;But,
+Mrs. Hill, the cathedral is not yet blown up; and our Phœbe is not
+yet married.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No; but what of that, Mr. Hill? Forewarned is forearmed,
+as I told you before your dog was gone; but you would not believe me,
+and you see how it turned out in that case; and so it will in this case,
+you&rsquo;ll see, Mr. Hill.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But you puzzle and frighten me out of my wits, Mrs. Hill,&rdquo;
+said the verger, again settling his wig. &ldquo;<i>In that case
+and in this case</i>! I can&rsquo;t understand a syllable of what
+you&rsquo;ve been saying to me this half-hour. In plain English,
+what is there the matter about Phœbe&rsquo;s gloves?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In plain English, then, Mr. Hill, since you can understand
+nothing else, please to ask your daughter Phœbe who gave her those
+gloves. Phœbe, who gave you those gloves?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I wish they were burnt,&rdquo; said the husband, whose patience
+could endure no longer. &ldquo;Who gave you those cursed gloves,
+Phœbe?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Papa,&rdquo; answered Phœbe, in a low voice, &ldquo;they
+were a present from Mr. Brian O&rsquo;Neill.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Irish glover!&rdquo; cried Mr. Hill, with a look of terror.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; resumed the mother; &ldquo;very true, Mr. Hill,
+I assure you. Now, you see, I had my reasons.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Take off the gloves directly: I order you, Phœbe,&rdquo;
+said her father, in his most peremptory tone. &ldquo;I took a
+mortal dislike to that Mr. Brian O&rsquo;Neill the first time I ever
+saw him. He&rsquo;s an Irishman, and that&rsquo;s enough, and
+too much for me. Off with the gloves, Phœbe! When I order
+a thing, it must be done.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Phœbe seemed to find some difficulty in getting off the gloves,
+and gently urged that she could not well go into the cathedral without
+them. This objection was immediately removed by her mother&rsquo;s
+pulling from her pocket a pair of mittens, which had once been brown,
+and once been whole, but which were now rent in sundry places; and which,
+having been long stretched by one who was twice the size of Phœbe,
+now hung in huge wrinkles upon her well-turned arms.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, papa,&rdquo; said Phœbe, &ldquo;why should we take a
+dislike to him because he is an Irishman? Cannot an Irishman be
+a good man?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The verger made no answer to this question, but a few seconds after
+it was put to him observed that the cathedral bell had just done ringing;
+and, as they were now got to the church door, Mrs. Hill, with a significant
+look at Phœbe, remarked that it was no proper time to talk or think
+of good men, or bad men, or Irishmen, or any men, especially for a verger&rsquo;s
+daughter.</p>
+
+<p>We pass over in silence the many conjectures that were made by several
+of the congregation concerning the reason why Miss Phœbe Hill should
+appear in such a shameful shabby pair of gloves on a Sunday. After
+service was ended, the verger went, with great mystery, to examine the
+hole under the foundation of the cathedral; and Mrs. Hill repaired,
+with the grocer&rsquo;s and the stationer&rsquo;s ladies, to take a
+walk in the Close, where she boasted to all her female acquaintance,
+whom she called her friends, of her maternal discretion in prevailing
+upon Mr. Hill to forbid her daughter Phœbe to wear the Limerick gloves.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, Phœbe walked pensively homewards, endeavouring
+to discover why her father should take a mortal dislike to a man at
+first sight, merely because he was an Irishman: and why her mother had
+talked so much of the great dog which had been lost last year out of
+the tan-yard; and of the hole under the foundation of the cathedral!
+&ldquo;What has all this to do with my Limerick gloves?&rdquo; thought
+she. The more she thought, the less connection she could perceive
+between these things: for as she had not taken a dislike to Mr. Brian
+O&rsquo;Neill at first sight, because he was an Irishman, she could
+not think it quite reasonable to suspect him of making away with her
+father&rsquo;s dog, nor yet of a design to blow up Hereford Cathedral.
+As she was pondering upon these matters, she came within sight of the
+ruins of a poor woman&rsquo;s house, which a few months before this
+time had been burnt down. She recollected that her first acquaintance
+with her lover began at the time of this fire; and she thought that
+the courage and humanity he showed, in exerting himself to save this
+unfortunate woman and her children, justified her notion of the possibility
+that an Irishman might be a good man.</p>
+
+<p>The name of the poor woman whose house had been burnt down was Smith:
+she was a widow, and she now lived at the extremity of a narrow lane
+in a wretched habitation. Why Phœbe thought of her with more
+concern than usual at this instant we need not examine, but she did;
+and, reproaching herself for having neglected it for some weeks past,
+she resolved to go directly to see the widow Smith, and to give her
+a crown which she had long had in her pocket, with which she had intended
+to have bought play tickets.</p>
+
+<p>It happened that the first person she saw in the poor widow&rsquo;s
+kitchen was the identical Mr. O&rsquo;Neill. &ldquo;I did not
+expect to see anybody here but you, Mrs. Smith,&rdquo; said Phœbe,
+blushing.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So much the greater the pleasure of the meeting; to me, I
+mean, Miss Hill,&rdquo; said O&rsquo;Neill, rising, and putting down
+a little boy, with whom he had been playing. Phœbe went on talking
+to the poor woman; and, after slipping the crown into her hand, said
+she would call again. O&rsquo;Neill, surprised at the change in
+her manner, followed her when she left the house, and said, &ldquo;It
+would be a great misfortune to me to have done anything to offend Miss
+Hill, especially if I could not conceive how or what it was, which is
+my case at this present speaking.&rdquo; And as the spruce glover
+spoke, he fixed his eyes upon Phœbe&rsquo;s ragged gloves. She
+drew them up in vain; and then said, with her natural simplicity and
+gentleness, &ldquo;You have not done anything to offend me, Mr. O&rsquo;Neill;
+but you are some way or other displeasing to my father and mother, and
+they have forbid me to wear the Limerick gloves.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And sure Miss Hill would not be after changing her opinion
+of her humble servant for no reason in life but because her father and
+mother, who have taken a prejudice against him, are a little contrary.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied Phœbe; &ldquo;I should not change my opinion
+without any reason; but I have not yet had time to fix my opinion of
+you, Mr. O&rsquo;Neill.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To let you know a piece of my mind, then, my dear Miss Hill,&rdquo;
+resumed he, &ldquo;the more contrary they are, the more pride and joy
+it would give me to win and wear you, in spite of &rsquo;em all; and
+if without a farthing in your pocket, so much the more I should rejoice
+in the opportunity of proving to your dear self, and all else whom it
+may consarn, that Brian O&rsquo;Neill is no fortune-hunter, and scorns
+them that are so narrow-minded as to think that no other kind of cattle
+but them there fortune-hunters can come out of all Ireland. So,
+my dear Phœbe, now we understand one another, I hope you will not be
+paining my eyes any longer with the sight of these odious brown bags,
+which are not fit to be worn by any Christian arms, to say nothing of
+Miss Hill&rsquo;s, which are the handsomest, without any compliment,
+that ever I saw, and, to my mind, would become a pair of Limerick gloves
+beyond anything: and I expect she&rsquo;ll show her generosity and proper
+spirit by putting them on immediately.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You expect, sir!&rdquo; repeated Miss Hill, with a look of
+more indignation than her gentle countenance had ever before been seen
+to assume. &ldquo;Expect!&rdquo; &ldquo;If he had said hope,&rdquo;
+thought she, &ldquo;it would have been another thing: but expect! what
+right has he to expect?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Now Miss Hill, unfortunately, was not sufficiently acquainted with
+the Irish idiom to know that to expect, in Ireland, is the same thing
+as to hope in England; and, when her Irish admirer said &ldquo;I expect,&rdquo;
+he meant only, in plain English, &ldquo;I hope.&rdquo; But thus
+it is that a poor Irishman, often, for want of understanding the niceties
+of the English language, says the rudest when he means to say the civillest
+things imaginable.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Hill&rsquo;s feelings were so much hurt by this unlucky &ldquo;I
+expect&rdquo; that the whole of his speech, which had before made some
+favourable impression upon her, now lost its effect: and she replied
+with proper spirit, as she thought, &ldquo;You expect a great deal too
+much, Mr. O&rsquo;Neill; and more than ever I gave you reason to do.
+It would be neither pleasure nor pride to me to be won and worn, as
+you were pleased to say, in spite of them all; and to be thrown, without
+a farthing in my pocket, upon the protection of one who expects so much
+at first setting out.&mdash;So I assure you, sir, whatever you may expect,
+I shall not put on the Limerick gloves.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. O&rsquo;Neill was not without his share of pride and proper spirit;
+nay, he had, it must be confessed, in common with some others of his
+countrymen, an improper share of pride and spirit. Fired by the
+lady&rsquo;s coldness, he poured forth a volley of reproaches; and ended
+by wishing, as he said, a good morning, for ever and ever, to one who
+could change her opinion, point blank, like the weathercock. &ldquo;I
+am, miss, your most obedient; and I expect you&rsquo;ll never think
+no more of poor Brian O&rsquo;Neill and the Limerick gloves.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>If he had not been in too great a passion to observe anything, poor
+Brian O&rsquo;Neill would have found out that Phœbe was not a weathercock:
+but he left her abruptly, and hurried away, imagining all the while
+that it was Phœbe, and not himself, who was in a rage. Thus,
+to the horseman who is galloping at full speed, the hedges, trees, and
+houses seem rapidly to recede, whilst, in reality, they never move from
+their places. It is he that flies from them, and not they from
+him.</p>
+
+<p>On Monday morning Miss Jenny Brown, the perfumer&rsquo;s daughter,
+came to pay Phœbe a morning visit, with face of busy joy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So, my dear!&rdquo; said she: &ldquo;fine doings in Hereford!
+But what makes you look so downcast? To be sure you are invited,
+as well as the rest of us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Invited where?&rdquo; cried Mrs. Hill, who was present, and
+who could never endure to hear of an invitation in which she was not
+included. &ldquo;Invited where, pray, Miss Jenny?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;La! have not you heard? Why, we all took it for granted
+that you and Miss Phœbe would have been the first and foremost to have
+been asked to Mr. O&rsquo;Neill&rsquo;s ball.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ball!&rdquo; cried Mrs. Hill; and luckily saved Phœbe, who
+was in some agitation, the trouble of speaking. &ldquo;Why, this
+is a mighty sudden thing: I never heard a tittle of it before.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, this is really extraordinary! And, Phœbe, have
+you not received a pair of Limerick gloves?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I have,&rdquo; said Phœbe, &ldquo;but what then?
+What have my Limerick gloves to do with the ball?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A great deal,&rdquo; replied Jenny. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t
+you know that a pair of Limerick gloves is, as one may say, a ticket
+to this ball? for every lady that has been asked has had a pair sent
+to her along with the card; and I believe as many as twenty, besides
+myself, have been asked this morning.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Jenny then produced her new pair of Limerick gloves, and as she tried
+them on, and showed how well they fitted, she counted up the names of
+the ladies who, to her knowledge, were to be at this ball. When
+she had finished the catalogue, she expatiated upon the grand preparations
+which it was said the widow O&rsquo;Neill, Mr. O&rsquo;Neill&rsquo;s
+mother, was making for the supper, and concluded by condoling with Mrs.
+Hill for her misfortune in not having been invited. Jenny took
+her leave to get her dress in readiness: &ldquo;for,&rdquo; added she,
+&ldquo;Mr. O&rsquo;Neill has engaged me to open the ball in case Phœbe
+does not go; but I suppose she will cheer up and go, as she has a pair
+of Limerick gloves as well as the rest of us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There was a silence for some minutes after Jenny&rsquo;s departure,
+which was broken by Phœbe, who told her mother that, early in the morning,
+a note had been brought to her, which she had returned unopened, because
+she knew, from the handwriting of the direction, that it came from Mr.
+O&rsquo;Neill.</p>
+
+<p>We must observe that Phœbe had already told her mother of her meeting
+with this gentleman at the poor widow&rsquo;s, and of all that had passed
+between them afterwards. This openness on her part had softened
+the heart of Mrs. Hill, who was really inclined to be good-natured,
+provided people would allow that she had more penetration than any one
+else in Hereford. She was, moreover, a good deal piqued and alarmed
+by the idea that the perfumer&rsquo;s daughter might rival and outshine
+her own. Whilst she had thought herself sure of Mr. O&rsquo;Neill&rsquo;s
+attachment to Phœbe, she had looked higher, especially as she was persuaded
+by the perfumer&rsquo;s lady to think that an Irishman could not but
+be a bad match; but now she began to suspect that the perfumer&rsquo;s
+lady had changed her opinion of Irishmen, since she did not object to
+her own Jenny&rsquo;s leading up the ball at Mr. O&rsquo;Neill&rsquo;s.</p>
+
+<p>All these thoughts passed rapidly in the mother&rsquo;s mind, and,
+with her fear of losing an admirer for her Phœbe, the value of that
+admirer suddenly rose in her estimation. Thus, at an auction,
+if a lot is going to be knocked down to a lady who is the only person
+that has bid for it, even she feels discontented, and despises that
+which nobody covets; but if, as the hammer is falling, many voices answer
+to the question, &ldquo;Who bids more?&rdquo; then her anxiety to secure
+the prize suddenly rises, and, rather than be outbid, she will give
+far beyond its value.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, child,&rdquo; said Mrs. Hill, &ldquo;since you have a
+pair of Limerick gloves; and since certainly that note was an invitation
+to us to this ball; and since it is much more fitting that you should
+open the ball than Jenny Brown; and since, after all, it was very handsome
+and genteel of the young man to say he would take you without a farthing
+in your pocket, which shows that those were misinformed who talked of
+him as an Irish adventurer; and since we are not certain &rsquo;twas
+he made away with the dog, although he said its barking was a great
+nuisance; there is no great reason to suppose he was the person who
+made the hole under the foundation of the cathedral, or that he could
+have such a wicked thought as to blow it up; and since he must be in
+a very good way of business to be able to afford giving away four or
+five guineas&rsquo; worth of Limerick gloves, and balls and suppers;
+and since, after all, it is no fault of his to be an Irishman, I give
+it as my vote and opinion, my dear, that you put on your Limerick gloves
+and go to this ball; and I&rsquo;ll go and speak to your father, and
+bring him round to our opinion, and then I&rsquo;ll pay the morning
+visit I owe to the widow O&rsquo;Neill and make up your quarrel with
+Brian. Love quarrels are easy to make up, you know, and then we
+shall have things all upon velvet again, and Jenny Brown need not come
+with her hypocritical condoling face to us any more.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>After running this speech glibly off, Mrs. Hill, without waiting
+to hear a syllable from poor Phœbe, trotted off in search of her consort.
+It was not, however, quite so easy a task as his wife expected, to bring
+Mr. Hill round to her opinion. He was slow in declaring himself
+of any opinion; but when once he had said a thing, there was but little
+chance of altering his notions. On this occasion Mr. Hill was
+doubly bound to his prejudice against our unlucky Irishman; for he had
+mentioned with great solemnity at the club which he frequented the grand
+affair of the hole under the foundation of the cathedral, and his suspicions
+that there was a design to blow it up. Several of the club had
+laughed at this idea; others, who supposed that Mr. O&rsquo;Neill was
+a Roman Catholic, and who had a confused notion that a Roman Catholic
+must be a very wicked, dangerous being, thought that there might be
+a great deal in the verger&rsquo;s suggestions, and observed that a
+very watchful eye ought to be kept upon this Irish glover, who had come
+to settle at Hereford nobody knew why, and who seemed to have money
+at command nobody knew how.</p>
+
+<p>The news of this ball sounded to Mr. Hill&rsquo;s prejudiced imagination
+like the news of a conspiracy. &ldquo;Ay! ay!&rdquo; thought he;
+&ldquo;the Irishman is cunning enough! But we shall be too many
+for him: he wants to throw all the good sober folks of Hereford off
+their guard by feasting, and dancing, and carousing, I take it, and
+so to perpetrate his evil design when it is least suspected; but we
+shall be prepared for him, fools as he takes us plain Englishmen to
+be, I warrant.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In consequence of these most shrewd cogitations, our verger silenced
+his wife with a peremptory nod when she came to persuade him to let
+Phœbe put on the Limerick gloves and go to the ball. &ldquo;To
+this ball she shall not go, and I charge her not to put on those Limerick
+gloves as she values my blessing,&rdquo; said Mr. Hill. &ldquo;Please
+to tell her so, Mrs. Hill, and trust to my judgment and discretion in
+all things, Mrs. Hill. Strange work may be in Hereford yet: but
+I&rsquo;ll say no more; I must go and consult with knowing men who are
+of my opinion.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He sallied forth, and Mrs. Hill was left in a state which only those
+who are troubled with the disease of excessive curiosity can rightly
+comprehend or compassionate. She hied her back to Phœbe, to whom
+she announced her father&rsquo;s answer, and then went gossiping to
+all her female acquaintance in Hereford, to tell them all that she knew,
+and all that she did not know, and to endeavour to find out a secret
+where there was none to be found.</p>
+
+<p>There are trials of temper in all conditions, and no lady, in high
+or low life, could endure them with a better grace than Phœbe.
+Whilst Mr. and Mrs. Hill were busied abroad, there came to see Phœbe
+one of the widow Smith&rsquo;s children. With artless expressions
+of gratitude to Phœbe this little girl mixed the praises of O&rsquo;Neill,
+who, she said, had been the constant friend of her mother, and had given
+her money every week since the fire happened. &ldquo;Mammy loves
+him dearly for being so good-natured,&rdquo; continued the child; &ldquo;and
+he has been good to other people as well as to us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To whom?&rdquo; said Phœbe.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To a poor man who has lodged for these few days past next
+door to us,&rdquo; replied the child; &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know his
+name rightly, but he is an Irishman, and he goes out a-haymaking in
+the daytime along with a number of others. He knew Mr. O&rsquo;Neill
+in his own country, and he told mammy a great deal about his goodness.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As the child finished these words, Phœbe took out of a drawer some
+clothes, which she had made for the poor woman&rsquo;s children, and
+gave them to the little girl. It happened that the Limerick gloves
+had been thrown into this drawer; and Phœbe&rsquo;s favourable sentiments
+of the giver of those gloves were revived by what she had just heard,
+and by the confession Mrs. Hill had made, that she had no reasons, and
+but vague suspicious, for thinking ill of him. She laid the gloves
+perfectly smooth, and strewed over them, whilst the little girl went
+on talking of Mr. O&rsquo;Neill, the leaves of a rose which she had
+worn on Sunday.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hill was all this time in deep conference with those prudent
+men of Hereford who were of his own opinion, about the perilous hole
+under the cathedral. The ominous circumstance of this ball was
+also considered, the great expense at which the Irish glover lived,
+and his giving away gloves, which was a sure sign he was not under any
+necessity to sell them, and consequently a proof that, though he pretended
+to be a glover, he was something wrong in disguise. Upon putting
+all these things together, it was resolved by these over-wise politicians
+that the best thing that could be done for Hereford, and the only possible
+means of preventing the immediate destruction of its cathedral, would
+be to take Mr. O&rsquo;Neill into custody. Upon recollection,
+however, it was perceived that there was no legal ground on which he
+could be attacked. At length, after consulting an attorney, they
+devised what they thought an admirable mode of proceeding.</p>
+
+<p>Our Irish hero had not that punctuality which English tradesmen usually
+observe in the payment of bills; he had, the preceding year, run up
+a long bill with a grocer in Hereford, and, as he had not at Christmas
+cash in hand to pay it, he had given a note, payable six months after
+date. The grocer, at Mr. Hill&rsquo;s request, made over the note
+to him, and it was determined that the money should be demanded, as
+it was now due, and that, if it was not paid directly, O&rsquo;Neill
+should be that night arrested. How Mr. Hill made the discovery
+of this debt to the grocer agree with his former notion that the Irish
+glover had always money at command we cannot well conceive, but anger
+and prejudice will swallow down the grossest contradictions without
+difficulty.</p>
+
+<p>When Mr. Hill&rsquo;s clerk went to demand payment of the note, O&rsquo;Neill&rsquo;s
+head was full of the ball which he was to give that evening. He
+was much surprised at the unexpected appearance of the note: he had
+not ready money by him to pay it; and after swearing a good deal at
+the clerk, and complaining of this ungenerous and ungentleman-like behaviour
+in the grocer and the tanner, he told the clerk to be gone, and not
+to be bothering him at such an unseasonable time: that he could not
+have the money then, and did not deserve to have it at all.</p>
+
+<p>This language and conduct were rather new to the English clerk&rsquo;s
+mercantile ears: we cannot wonder that it should seem to him, as he
+said to his master, more the language of a madman than a man of business.
+This want of punctuality in money transactions, and this mode of treating
+contracts as matters of favour and affection, might not have damned
+the fame of our hero in his own country, where such conduct is, alas!
+too common; but he was now in a kingdom where the manners and customs
+are so directly opposite, that he could meet with no allowance for his
+national faults. It would be well for his countrymen if they were
+made, even by a few mortifications, somewhat sensible of this important
+difference in the habits of Irish and English traders before they come
+to settle in England.</p>
+
+<p>But to proceed with our story. On the night of Mr. O&rsquo;Neill&rsquo;s
+grand ball, as he was seeing his fair partner, the perfumer&rsquo;s
+daughter, safe home, he felt himself tapped on the shoulder by no friendly
+hand. When he was told that he was the king&rsquo;s prisoner,
+he vociferated with sundry strange oaths, which we forbear to repeat.
+&ldquo;No, I am not the king&rsquo;s prisoner! I am the prisoner
+of that shabby, rascally tanner, Jonathan Hill. None but he would
+arrest a gentleman in this way, for a trifle not worth mentioning.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Miss Jenny Brown screamed when she found herself under the protection
+of a man who was arrested; and, what between her screams and his oaths,
+there was such a disturbance that a mob gathered.</p>
+
+<p>Among this mob there was a party of Irish haymakers, who, after returning
+late from a hard day&rsquo;s work, had been drinking in a neighbouring
+ale-house. With one accord they took part with their countryman,
+and would have rescued him from the civil officers with all the pleasure
+in life if he had not fortunately possessed just sufficient sense and
+command of himself to restrain their party spirit, and to forbid them,
+as they valued his life and reputation, to interfere, by word or deed,
+in his defence.</p>
+
+<p>He then despatched one of the haymakers home to his mother, to inform
+her of what had happened, and to request that she would get somebody
+to be bail for him as soon as possible, as the officers said they could
+not let him out of their sight till he was bailed by substantial people,
+or till the debt was discharged.</p>
+
+<p>The widow O&rsquo;Neill was just putting out the candles in the ball-room
+when this news of her son&rsquo;s arrest was brought to her. We
+pass over Hibernian exclamations: she consoled her pride by reflecting
+that it would certainly be the most easy thing imaginable to procure
+bail for Mr. O&rsquo;Neill in Hereford, where he had so many friends
+who had just been dancing at his house; but to dance at his house she
+found was one thing and to be bail for him quite another. Each
+guest sent excuses, and the widow O&rsquo;Neill was astonished at what
+never fails to astonish everybody when it happens to themselves.
+&ldquo;Rather than let my son be detained in this manner for a paltry
+debt,&rdquo; cried she, &ldquo;I&rsquo;d sell all I have within half
+an hour to a pawnbroker.&rdquo; It was well no pawnbroker heard
+this declaration: she was too warm to consider economy. She sent
+for a pawnbroker, who lived in the same street, and, after pledging
+goods to treble the amount of the debt, she obtained ready money for
+her son&rsquo;s release.</p>
+
+<p>O&rsquo;Neill, after being in custody for about an hour and a half,
+was set at liberty upon the payment of his debt. As he passed
+by the cathedral in his way home, he heard the clock strike; and he
+called to a man, who was walking backwards and forwards in the churchyard,
+to ask whether it was two or three that the clock struck. &ldquo;Three,&rdquo;
+answered the man; &ldquo;and, as yet, all is safe.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>O&rsquo;Neill, whose head was full of other things, did not stop
+to inquire the meaning of these last words. He little suspected
+that this man was a watchman whom the over-vigilant verger had stationed
+there to guard the Hereford Cathedral from his attacks. O&rsquo;Neill
+little guessed that he had been arrested merely to keep him from blowing
+up the cathedral this night. The arrest had an excellent effect
+upon his mind, for he was a young man of good sense: it made him resolve
+to retrench his expenses in time, to live more like a glover and less
+like a gentleman; and to aim more at establishing credit, and less at
+gaining popularity. He found, from experience, that good friends
+will not pay bad debts.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER II</h3>
+
+<p>On Thursday morning our verger rose in unusually good spirits, congratulating
+himself upon the eminent service he had done to the city of Hereford
+by his sagacity in discovering the foreign plot to blow up the Cathedral,
+and by his dexterity in having the enemy held in custody, at the very
+hour when the dreadful deed was to have been perpetrated. Mr.
+Hill&rsquo;s knowing friends farther agreed it would be necessary to
+have a guard that should sit up every night in the churchyard; and that
+as soon as they could, by constantly watching the enemy&rsquo;s motions,
+procure any information which the attorney should deem sufficient grounds
+for a legal proceeding, they should lay the whole business before the
+mayor.</p>
+
+<p>After arranging all this most judiciously and mysteriously with friends
+who were exactly of his own opinion, Mr. Hill laid aside his dignity
+of verger, and assuming his other character of a tanner, proceeded to
+his tan-yard. What was his surprise and consternation, when he
+beheld his great rick of oak bark levelled to the ground; the pieces
+of bark were scattered far and wide, some over the close, some over
+the fields, and some were seen swimming upon the water! No tongue,
+no pen, no muse can describe the feelings of our tanner at this spectacle&mdash;feelings
+which became the more violent from the absolute silence which he imposed
+on himself upon this occasion. He instantly decided in his own
+mind that this injury was perpetrated by O&rsquo;Neill, in revenge for
+his arrest; and went privately to the attorney to inquire what was to
+be done, on his part, to secure legal vengeance.</p>
+
+<p>The attorney unluckily&mdash;or at least, as Mr. Hill thought, unluckily&mdash;had
+been sent for, half an hour before, by a gentleman at some distance
+from Hereford, to draw up a will: so that our tanner was obliged to
+postpone his legal operations.</p>
+
+<p>We forbear to recount his return, and how many times he walked up
+and down the close to view his scattered bark, and to estimate the damage
+that had been done to him. At length that hour came which usually
+suspends all passions by the more imperious power of appetite&mdash;the
+hour of dinner: an hour of which it was never needful to remind Mr.
+Hill by watch, clock, or dial; for he was blessed with a punctual appetite,
+and powerful as punctual: so powerful, indeed, that it often excited
+the spleen of his more genteel or less hungry wife. &ldquo;Bless
+my stars! Mr. Hill,&rdquo; she would oftentimes say, &ldquo;I
+am really downright ashamed to see you eat so much; and when company
+is to dine with us, I do wish you would take a snack by way of a damper
+before dinner, that you may not look so prodigious famishing and ungenteel.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Upon this hint, Mr. Hill commenced a practice, to which he ever afterwards
+religiously adhered, of going, whether there was to be company or no
+company, into the kitchen regularly every day, half an hour before dinner,
+to take a slice from the roast or the boiled before it went up to table.
+As he was this day, according to his custom, in the kitchen, taking
+his snack by way of a damper, he heard the housemaid and the cook talking
+about some wonderful fortune-teller, whom the housemaid had been consulting.
+This fortune-teller was no less a personage than the successor to Bampfylde
+Moore Carew, king of the gipsies, whose life and adventures are probably
+in many, too many, of our readers&rsquo; hands. Bampfylde, the
+second king of the gipsies, assumed this title, in hopes of becoming
+as famous, or as infamous, as his predecessor: he was now holding his
+court in a wood near the town of Hereford, and numbers of servant-maids
+and &rsquo;prentices went to consult him&mdash;nay, it was whispered
+that he was resorted to, secretly, by some whose education might have
+taught them better sense.</p>
+
+<p>Numberless were the instances which our verger heard in his kitchen
+of the supernatural skill of this cunning man; and whilst Mr. Hill ate
+his snack with his wonted gravity, he revolved great designs in his
+secret soul. Mrs. Hill was surprised, several times during dinner,
+to see her consort put down his knife and fork, and meditate.
+&ldquo;Gracious me, Mr. Hill! what can have happened to you this day?
+What can you be thinking of, Mr. Hill, that can make you forget what
+you have upon your plate?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mrs. Hill,&rdquo; replied the thoughtful verger, &ldquo;our
+grandmother Eve had too much curiosity; and we all know it did not lead
+to good. What I am thinking of will be known to you in due time,
+but not now, Mrs. Hill; therefore, pray, no questions, or teasing, or
+pumping. What I think, I think; what I say, I say; what I know,
+I know; and that is enough for you to know at present: only this, Phœbe,
+you did very well not to put on the Limerick gloves, child. What
+I know, I know. Things will turn out just as I said from the first.
+What I say, I say; and what I think, I think; and this is enough for
+you to know at present.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Having finished dinner with this solemn speech, Mr. Hill settled
+himself in his arm-chair, to take his after-dinner&rsquo;s nap: and
+he dreamed of blowing up cathedrals, and of oak bark floating upon the
+waters; and the cathedral was, he thought, blown up by a man dressed
+in a pair of woman&rsquo;s Limerick gloves, and the oak bark turned
+into mutton steaks, after which his great dog Jowler was swimming; when,
+all on a sudden, as he was going to beat Jowler for eating the bark
+transformed into mutton steaks, Jowler became Bampfylde the Second,
+king of the gipsies; and putting a horse-whip with a silver handle into
+Hill&rsquo;s hand, commanded him three times, in a voice as loud as
+the town-crier&rsquo;s, to have O&rsquo;Neill whipped through the market-place
+of Hereford: but just as he was going to the window to see this whipping,
+his wig fell off, and he awoke.</p>
+
+<p>It was difficult, even for Mr. Hill&rsquo;s sagacity, to make sense
+of this dream: but he had the wise art of always finding in his dreams
+something that confirmed his waking determinations. Before he
+went to sleep, he had half resolved to consult the king of the gipsies,
+in the absence of the attorney; and his dream made him now wholly determined
+upon this prudent step. &ldquo;From Bampfylde the Second,&rdquo;
+thought he, &ldquo;I shall learn for certain who made the hole under
+the cathedral, who pulled down my rick of bark, and who made away with
+my dog Jowler; and then I shall swear examinations against O&rsquo;Neill,
+without waiting for attorneys. I will follow my own way in this
+business: I have always found my own way best.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So, when the dusk of the evening increased, our wise man set out
+towards the wood to consult the cunning man. Bampfylde the Second,
+king of the gipsies, resided in a sort of hut made of the branches of
+trees; the verger stooped, but did not stoop low enough, as he entered
+this temporary palace, and, whilst his body was almost bent double,
+his peruke was caught upon a twig. From this awkward situation
+he was relieved by the consort of the king; and he now beheld, by the
+light of some embers, the person of his gipsy majesty, to whose sublime
+appearance this dim light was so favourable that it struck a secret
+awe into our wise man&rsquo;s soul; and, forgetting Hereford Cathedral,
+and oak bark, and Limerick gloves, he stood for some seconds speechless.
+During this time, the queen very dexterously disencumbered his pocket
+of all superfluous articles. When he recovered his recollection,
+he put with great solemnity the following queries to the king of the
+gipsies, and received the following answers:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you know a dangerous Irishman of the name of O&rsquo;Neill,
+who has come, for purposes best known to himself, to settle at Hereford?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, we know him well.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Indeed! And what do you know of him?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That he is a dangerous Irishman.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Right! And it was he, was it not, that pulled down,
+or caused to be pulled down, my rick of oak bark?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And who was it that made away with my dog Jowler, that used
+to guard the tan-yard?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was the person that you suspect.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And was it the person whom I suspect that made the hole under
+the foundation of our cathedral?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The same, and no other.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And for what purpose did he make that hole?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;For a purpose that must not be named,&rdquo; replied the king
+of the gipsies, nodding his head in a mysterious manner.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But it may be named to me,&rdquo; cried the verger, &ldquo;for
+I have found it out, and I am one of the vergers; and is it not fit
+that a plot to blow up the Hereford Cathedral should be known <i>to</i>
+me, and <i>through</i> me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;Now, take my word,<br />
+Wise men of Hereford,<br />
+None in safety may be,<br />
+Till the bad man doth flee.&rdquo;</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>These oracular verses, pronounced by Bampfylde with all the enthusiasm
+of one who was inspired, had the desired effect upon our wise man; and
+he left the presence of the king of the gipsies with a prodigiously
+high opinion of his majesty&rsquo;s judgment and of his own, fully resolved
+to impart, the next morning, to the mayor of Hereford his important
+discoveries.</p>
+
+<p>Now it happened that, during the time Mr. Hill was putting the foregoing
+queries to Bampfylde the Second, there came to the door or entrance
+of the audience chamber an Irish haymaker who wanted to consult the
+cunning man about a little leathern purse which he had lost whilst he
+was making hay in a field near Hereford. This haymaker was the
+same person who, as we have related, spoke so advantageously of our
+hero O&rsquo;Neill to the widow Smith. As this man, whose name
+was Paddy M&rsquo;Cormack, stood at the entrance of the gipsies&rsquo;
+hut, his attention was caught by the name of O&rsquo;Neill; and he lost
+not a word of all that pasted. He had reason to be somewhat surprised
+at hearing Bampfylde assert it was O&rsquo;Neill who had pulled down
+the rick of bark. &ldquo;By the holy poker!&rdquo; said he to
+himself, &ldquo;the old fellow now is out there. I know more o&rsquo;
+that matter than he does&mdash;no offence to his majesty; he knows no
+more of my purse, I&rsquo;ll engage now, than he does of this man&rsquo;s
+rick of bark and his dog: so I&rsquo;ll keep my tester in my pocket,
+and not be giving it to this king o&rsquo; the gipsies, as they call
+him: who, as near as I can guess, is no better than a cheat. But
+there is one secret which I can be telling this conjuror himself: he
+shall not find it such an easy matter to do all what he thinks; he shall
+not be after ruining an innocent countryman of my own whilst Paddy M&rsquo;Cormack
+has a tongue and brains.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Now, Paddy M&rsquo;Cormack had the best reason possible for knowing
+that Mr. O&rsquo;Neill did not pull down Mr. Hill&rsquo;s rick of bark;
+it was M&rsquo;Cormack himself who, in the heat of his resentment for
+the insulting arrest of his countryman in the streets of Hereford, had
+instigated his fellow haymakers to this mischief; he headed them, and
+thought he was doing a clever, spirited action.</p>
+
+<p>There is a strange mixture of virtue and vice in the minds of the
+lower class of Irish: or rather, a strange confusion in their ideas
+of right and wrong, from want of proper education. As soon as
+poor Paddy found out that his spirited action of pulling down the rick
+of bark was likely to be the ruin of his countryman, he resolved to
+make all the amends in his power for his folly&mdash;he went to collect
+his fellow haymakers, and persuaded them to assist him this night in
+rebuilding what they had pulled down.</p>
+
+<p>They went to this work when everybody except themselves, as they
+thought, was asleep in Hereford. They had just completed the stack,
+and were all going away except Paddy, who was seated at the very top,
+finishing the pile, when they heard a loud voice cry out, &ldquo;Here
+they are! Watch! Watch!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Immediately all the haymakers who could, ran off as fast as possible.
+It was the watch who had been sitting up at the cathedral who gave the
+alarm. Paddy was taken from the top of the rick and lodged in
+the watch-house till morning. &ldquo;Since I&rsquo;m to be rewarded
+this way for doing a good action, sorrow take me,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;if
+they catch me doing another the longest day ever I live.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Happy they who have in their neighbourhood such a magistrate as Mr.
+Marshal! He was a man who, to an exact knowledge of the duties
+of his office, joined the power of discovering truth from the midst
+of contradictory evidence, and the happy art of soothing or laughing
+the angry passions into good-humour. It was a common saying in
+Hereford that no one ever came out of Justice Marshal&rsquo;s house
+as angry as he went into it.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Marshal had scarcely breakfasted when he was informed that Mr.
+Hill, the verger, wanted to speak to him on business of the utmost importance.
+Mr. Hill, the verger, was ushered in; and, with gloomy solemnity, took
+a seat opposite to Mr. Marshal.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sad doings in Hereford, Mr. Marshal! Sad doings, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sad doings? Why, I was told we had merry doings in Hereford.
+A ball the night before last, as I heard.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So much the worse, Mr. Marshal&mdash;so much the worse: as
+those think with reason that see as far into things as I do.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So much the better, Mr. Hill,&rdquo; said Mr. Marshal, laughing,
+&ldquo;so much the better: as those think with reason that see no farther
+into things than I do.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, sir,&rdquo; said the verger, still more solemnly, &ldquo;this
+is no laughing matter, nor time for laughing, begging your pardon.
+Why, sir, the night of that there diabolical ball our Hereford Cathedral,
+sir, would have been blown up&mdash;blown up from the foundation, if
+it had not been for me, sir!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Indeed, Mr. Verger! And pray how, and by whom, was the
+cathedral to be blown up? and what was there diabolical in this ball?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Here Mr. Hill let Mr. Marshal into the whole history of his early
+dislike to O&rsquo;Neill, and his shrewd suspicions of him the first
+moment he saw him in Hereford: related in the most prolix manner all
+that the reader knows already, and concluded by saying that, as he was
+now certain of his facts, he was come to swear examinations against
+this villanous Irishman, who, he hoped, would be speedily brought to
+justice, as he deserved.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To justice he shall be brought, as he deserves,&rdquo; said
+Mr. Marshal; &ldquo;but before I write, and before you swear, will you
+have the goodness to inform me how you have made yourself as certain,
+as you evidently are, of what you call your facts?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sir, that is a secret,&rdquo; replied our wise man, &ldquo;which
+I shall trust to you alone;&rdquo; and he whispered into Mr. Marshal&rsquo;s
+ear that, his information came from Bampfylde the Second, king of the
+gipsies.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Marshal instantly burst into laughter; then composing himself,
+said: &ldquo;My good sir, I am really glad that you have proceeded no
+farther in this business; and that no one in Hereford, beside myself,
+knows that you were on the point of swearing examinations against a
+man on the evidence of Bampfylde the Second, king of the gipsies.
+My dear sir, it would be a standing joke against you to the end of your
+days. A grave man like Mr. Hill! and a verger too! Why you
+would be the laughing-stock of Hereford!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Now Mr. Marshal well knew the character of the man to whom he was
+talking, who, above all things on earth, dreaded to be laughed at.
+Mr. Hill coloured all over his face, and, pushing back his wig by way
+of settling it, showed that he blushed not only all over his face, but
+all over his head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, Mr. Marshal, sir,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;as to my being
+laughed at, it is what I did not look for, being, as there are, some
+men in Hereford to whom I have mentioned that hole in the cathedral,
+who have thought it no laughing matter, and who have been precisely
+of my own opinion thereupon.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But did you tell these gentlemen that you had been consulting
+the king of the gipsies?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir, no: I can&rsquo;t say that I did.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then I advise you, keep your own counsel, as I will.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hill, whose imagination wavered between the hole in the cathedral
+and his rick of bark on one side, and between his rick of bark and his
+dog Jowler on the other, now began to talk of the dog, and now of the
+rick of bark; and when he had exhausted all he had to say upon these
+subjects, Mr. Marshal gently pulled him towards the window, and putting
+a spy-glass into his hand, bade him look towards his own tan-yard, and
+tell him what he saw. To his great surprise, Mr. Hill saw his
+rick of bark re-built. &ldquo;Why, it was not there last night,&rdquo;
+exclaimed he, rubbing his eyes. &ldquo;Why, some conjuror must
+have done this.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied Mr. Marshal, &ldquo;no conjuror did it:
+but your friend Bampfylde the Second, king of the gipsies, was the cause
+of its being re-built; and here is the man who actually pulled it down,
+and who actually re-built it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As he said these words Mr. Marshal opened the door of an adjoining
+room and beckoned to the Irish haymaker, who had been taken into custody
+about an hour before this time. The watch who took Paddy had called
+at Mr. Hill&rsquo;s house to tell him what had happened, but Mr. Hill
+was not then at home.</p>
+
+<p>It was with much surprise that the verger heard the simple truth
+from this poor fellow; but no sooner was he convinced that O&rsquo;Neill
+was innocent as to this affair, than he recurred to his other ground
+of suspicion, the loss of his dog.</p>
+
+<p>The Irish haymaker now stepped forward, and, with a peculiar twist
+of the hips and shoulders, which those only who have seen it can picture
+to themselves, said, &ldquo;Plase your honour&rsquo;s honour, I have
+a little word to say too about the dog.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Say it, then,&rdquo; said Mr. Marshal.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Plase your honour, if I might expect to be forgiven, and let
+off for pulling down the jontleman&rsquo;s stack, I might be able to
+tell him what I know about the dog.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you can tell me anything about my dog,&rdquo; said the
+tanner, &ldquo;I will freely forgive you for pulling down the rick:
+especially as you have built it up again. Speak the truth, now:
+did not O&rsquo;Neill make away with the dog?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not at all, at all, plase your honour,&rdquo; replied the
+haymaker: &ldquo;and the truth of the matter is, I know nothing of the
+dog, good or bad; but I know something of his collar, if your name,
+plase your honour, is Hill, as I take it to be.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My name is Hill: proceed,&rdquo; said the tanner, with great
+eagerness. &ldquo;You know something about the collar of my dog
+Jowler?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Plase your honour, this much I know, any way, that it is now,
+or was the night before last, at the pawnbroker&rsquo;s there, below
+in town; for, plase your honour, I was sent late at night (that night
+that Mr. O&rsquo;Neill, long life to him! was arrested) to the pawnbroker&rsquo;s
+for a Jew by Mrs. O&rsquo;Neill, poor creature! She was in great
+trouble that same time.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very likely,&rdquo; interrupted Mr. Hill: &ldquo;but go on
+to the collar; what of the collar?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She sent me&mdash;I&rsquo;ll tell you the story, plase your
+honour, <i>out of the face</i>&mdash;she sent me to the pawnbroker&rsquo;s
+for the Jew; and, it being so late at night, the shop was shut, and
+it was with all the trouble in life that I got into the house any way:
+and, when I got in, there was none but a slip of a boy up; and he set
+down the light that he had in his hand, and ran up the stairs to waken
+his master: and, whilst he was gone, I just made bold to look round
+at what sort of a place I was in, and at the old clothes and rags and
+scraps; there was a sort of a frieze trusty.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A trusty!&rdquo; said Mr. Hill; &ldquo;what is that, pray?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A big coat, sure, plase your honour: there was a frieze big
+coat lying in a corner, which I had my eye upon, to trate myself to:
+I having, as I then thought, money in my little purse enough for it.
+Well, I won&rsquo;t trouble your honour&rsquo;s honour with telling
+of you now how I lost my purse in the field, as I found after; but about
+the big coat&mdash;as I was saying, I just lifted it off the ground
+to see would it fit me; and, as I swung it round, something, plase your
+honour, hit me a great knock on the shins: it was in the pocket of the
+coat, whatever it was, I knew; so I looks into the pocket to see what
+was it, plase your honour, and out I pulls a hammer and a dog-collar:
+it was a wonder, both together, they did not break my shins entirely:
+but it&rsquo;s no matter for my shins now; so, before the boy came down,
+I just out of idleness spelt out to myself the name that was upon the
+collar: there were two names, plase your honour, and out of the first
+there were so many letters hammered out I could make nothing of it at
+all, at all; but the other name was plain enough to read, any way, and
+it was Hill, plase your honour&rsquo;s honour, as sure as life: Hill,
+now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This story was related in tones and gestures which were so new and
+strange to English ears and eyes, that even the solemnity of our verger
+gave way to laughter.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Marshal sent a summons for the pawnbroker, that he might learn
+from him how he came by the dog-collar. The pawnbroker, when he
+found from Mr. Marshal that he could by no other means save himself
+from being committed to prison, confessed that the collar had been sold
+to him by Bampfylde the Second, king of the gipsies.</p>
+
+<p>A warrant was immediately despatched for his majesty; and Mr. Hill
+was a good deal alarmed by the fear of its being known in Hereford that
+he was on the point of swearing examinations against an innocent man
+upon the evidence of a dog-stealer and a gipsy.</p>
+
+<p>Bampfylde the Second made no sublime appearance when he was brought
+before Mr. Marshal, nor could all his astrology avail upon this occasion.
+The evidence of the pawnbroker was so positive as to the fact of his
+having sold to him the dog-collar, that there was no resource left for
+Bampfylde but an appeal to Mr. Hill&rsquo;s mercy. He fell on
+his knees, and confessed that it was he who stole the dog, which used
+to bark at him at night so furiously, that he could not commit certain
+petty depredations by which, as much as by telling fortunes, he made
+his livelihood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And so,&rdquo; said Mr. Marshal, with a sternness of manner
+which till now he had never shown, &ldquo;to screen yourself, you accused
+an innocent man; and by your vile arts would have driven him from Hereford,
+and have set two families for ever at variance, to conceal that you
+had stolen a dog.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The king of the gipsies was, without further ceremony, committed
+to the house of correction. We should not omit to mention that,
+on searching his hat, the Irish haymaker&rsquo;s purse was found, which
+some of his majesty&rsquo;s train had emptied. The whole set of
+gipsies decamped upon the news of the apprehension of their monarch.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hill stood in profound silence, leaning upon his walking-stick,
+whilst the committal was making out for Bampfylde the Second.
+The fear of ridicule was struggling with the natural positiveness of
+his temper. He was dreadfully afraid that the story of his being
+taken in by the king of the gipsies would get abroad; and, at the same
+time, he was unwilling to give up his prejudice against the Irish glover.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, Mr. Marshal,&rdquo; cried he, after a long silence, &ldquo;the
+hole under the foundation of the cathedral has never been accounted
+for&mdash;that is, was, and ever will be, an ugly mystery to me; and
+I never can have a good opinion of this Irishman till it is cleared
+up, nor can I think the cathedral in safety.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What!&rdquo; said Mr. Marshal, with an arch smile, &ldquo;I
+suppose the verses of the oracle still work upon your imagination, Mr.
+Hill. They are excellent in their kind. I must have them
+by heart, that when I am asked the reason why Mr. Hill has taken an
+aversion to an Irish glover, I may be able to repeat them:&mdash;</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;Now, take my word,<br />
+Wise men of Hereford,<br />
+None in safety may be,<br />
+Till the bad man doth flee.&rdquo;</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll oblige me, sir,&rdquo; said the verger, &ldquo;if
+you would never repeat those verses, sir, nor mention, in any company,
+the affair of the king of the gipsies.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will oblige you,&rdquo; replied Mr. Marshal, &ldquo;if you
+will oblige me. Will you tell me honestly whether, now that you
+find this Mr. O&rsquo;Neill is neither a dog-killer nor a puller-down
+of bark-ricks, you feel that you could forgive him for being an Irishman,
+if the mystery, as you call it, of the hole under the cathedral was
+cleared up?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But that is not cleared up, I say, sir,&rdquo; cried Mr. Hill,
+striking his walking-stick forcibly upon the ground with both his hands.
+&ldquo;As to the matter of his being an Irishman, I have nothing to
+say to it; I am not saying anything about that, for I know we all are
+born where it pleases God, and an Irishman may be as good as another.
+I know that much, Mr. Marshal, and I am not one of those illiberal-minded,
+ignorant people that cannot abide a man that was not born in England.
+Ireland is now in his majesty&rsquo;s dominions. I know very well,
+Mr. Marshal; and I have no manner of doubt, as I said before, that an
+Irishman born may be as good, almost, as an Englishman born.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am glad,&rdquo; said Mr. Marshal, &ldquo;to hear you speak&mdash;almost
+as reasonably as an Englishman born and every man ought to speak; and
+I am convinced that you have too much English hospitality to persecute
+an inoffensive stranger, who comes amongst us trusting to our justice
+and good nature.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I would not persecute a stranger, God forbid!&rdquo; replied
+the verger, &ldquo;if he was, as you say, inoffensive.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And if he was not only inoffensive, but ready to do every
+service in his power to those who are in want of his assistance, we
+should not return evil for good, should we?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That would be uncharitable, to be sure; and, moreover, a scandal,&rdquo;
+said the verger.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then,&rdquo; said Mr. Marshal, &ldquo;will you walk with me
+as far as the Widow Smith&rsquo;s, the poor woman whose house was burnt
+last winter? This haymaker, who lodged near her, can show us the
+way to her present abode.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>During his examination of Paddy M&rsquo;Cormack, who would tell his
+whole history, as he called it, <i>out of the face</i>, Mr. Marshal
+heard several instances of the humanity and goodness of O&rsquo;Neill,
+which Paddy related to excuse himself for that warmth of attachment
+to his cause that had been manifested so injudiciously by pulling down
+the rick of bark in revenge for the rest. Amongst other things,
+Paddy mentioned his countryman&rsquo;s goodness to the Widow Smith.
+Mr. Marshal was determined, therefore, to see whether he had, in this
+instance, spoken the truth; and he took Hill with him, in hopes of being
+able to show him the favourable side of O&rsquo;Neill&rsquo;s character.</p>
+
+<p>Things turned out just as Mr. Marshal expected. The poor widow
+and her family, in the most simple and affecting manner, described the
+distress from which they had been relieved by the good gentleman; and
+lady&mdash;the lady was Phœbe Hill; and the praises that were bestowed
+upon Phœbe were delightful to her father&rsquo;s ear, whose angry passions
+had now all subsided.</p>
+
+<p>The benevolent Mr. Marshal seized the moment when he saw Mr. Hill&rsquo;s
+heart was touched, and exclaimed, &ldquo;I must be acquainted with this
+Mr. O&rsquo;Neill. I am sure we people of Hereford ought to show
+some hospitality to a stranger who has so much humanity. Mr. Hill,
+will you dine with him to-morrow at my house?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hill was just going to accept of this invitation, when the recollection
+of all he had said to his club about the hole under the cathedral came
+across him, and, drawing Mr. Marshal aside, he whispered, &ldquo;But,
+sir, sir, that affair of the hole under the cathedral has not been cleared
+up yet.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At this instant the Widow Smith exclaimed, &ldquo;Oh! here comes
+my little Mary&rdquo; (one of her children, who came running in); &ldquo;this
+is the little girl, sir, to whom the lady has been so good. Make
+your curtsey, child. Where have you been all this while?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mammy,&rdquo; said the child, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been showing
+the lady my rat.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lord bless her! Gentlemen, the child has been wanting
+me this many a day to go to see this tame rat of hers; but I could never
+get time, never&mdash;and I wondered, too, at the child&rsquo;s liking
+such a creature. Tell the gentlemen, dear, about your rat.
+All I know is that, let her have but never such a tiny bit of bread
+for breakfast or supper, she saves a little of that little for this
+rat of hers; she and her brothers have found it out somewhere by the
+cathedral.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It comes out of a hole under the wall of the cathedral,&rdquo;
+said one of the older boys; &ldquo;and we have diverted ourselves watching
+it, and sometimes we have put victuals for it&mdash;so it has grown,
+in a manner, tame-like.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hill and Mr. Marshal looked at one another during this speech;
+and the dread of ridicule again seized on Mr. Hill, when he apprehended
+that, after all he had said, the mountain might at last bring forth&mdash;a
+rat. Mr. Marshal, who instantly saw what passed in the verger&rsquo;s
+mind, relieved him from this fear by refraining even from a smile on
+this occasion. He only said to the child, in a grave manner, &ldquo;I
+am afraid, my dear, we shall be obliged to spoil your diversion.
+Mr. Verger, here, cannot suffer rat-holes in the cathedral; but, to
+make you amends for the loss of your favourite, I will give you a very
+pretty little dog, if you have a mind.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The child was well pleased with this promise; and, at Mr. Marshal&rsquo;s
+desire, she then went along with him and Mr. Hill to the cathedral,
+and they placed themselves at a little distance from that hole which
+had created so much disturbance. The child soon brought the dreadful
+enemy to light; and Mr. Hill, with a faint laugh, said, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+glad it&rsquo;s no worse, but there were many in our club who were of
+my opinion; and, if they had not suspected O&rsquo;Neill too, I am sure
+I should never have given you so much trouble, sir, as I have done this
+morning. But I hope, as the club know nothing about that vagabond,
+that king of the gipsies, you will not let any one know anything about
+the prophecy, and all that? I am sure I am very sorry to have
+given you so much trouble, Mr. Marshal.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Marshal assured him that he did not regret the time which he
+had spent in endeavouring to clear up all those mysteries and suspicions;
+and Mr. Hill gladly accepted his invitation to meet O&rsquo;Neill at
+his house the next day. No sooner had Mr. Marshal brought one
+of the parties to reason and good humour than he went to prepare the
+other for a reconciliation. O&rsquo;Neill and his mother were
+both people of warm but forgiving tempers&mdash;the arrest was fresh
+in their minds; but when Mr. Marshal represented to them the whole affair,
+and the verger&rsquo;s prejudices, in a humorous light, they joined
+in the good-natured laugh; and O&rsquo;Neill declared that, for his
+part, he was ready to forgive and to forget everything if he could but
+see Miss Phœbe in the Limerick gloves.</p>
+
+<p>Phœbe appeared the next day, at Mr. Marshal&rsquo;s, in the Limerick
+gloves; and no perfume ever was so delightful to her lover as the smell
+of the rose-leaves in which they had been kept.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Marshal had the benevolent pleasure of reconciling the two families.
+The tanner and the glover of Hereford became, from bitter enemies, useful
+friends to each other; and they were convinced by experience that nothing
+could be more for their mutual advantage than to live in union.</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2><a name="chap04"></a>MADAME DE FLEURY</h2>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER I</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;There oft are heard the notes of infant woe,<br />
+The short thick sob, loud scream, and shriller squall&mdash;<br />
+How can you, mothers, vex your infants so?&rdquo;&mdash;POPE</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>&ldquo;D&rsquo;abord, madame, c&rsquo;est impossible!&mdash;Madame
+ne descendra pas ici?&rdquo; said François, the footman of Madame
+de Fleury, with a half expostulatory, half indignant look, as he let
+down the step of her carriage at the entrance of a dirty passage, that
+led to one of the most miserable-looking houses in Paris.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But what can be the cause of the cries which I hear in this
+house?&rdquo; said Madame de Fleury.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis only some child who is crying,&rdquo; replied François;
+and he would have put up the step, but his lady was not satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis nothing in the world,&rdquo; continued he, with
+a look of appeal to the coachman, &ldquo;it <i>can</i> be nothing, but
+some children who are locked up there above. The mother, the workwoman
+my lady wants, is not at home: that&rsquo;s certain.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I must know the cause of these cries; I must see these children&rdquo;
+said Madame de Fleury, getting out of her carriage.</p>
+
+<p>François held his arm for his lady as she got out.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bon!&rdquo; cried he, with an air of vexation. &ldquo;Si
+madame la vent absolument, &agrave; la bonne heure!&mdash;Mais madame
+sera abimée. Madame verra que j&rsquo;ai raison.
+Madame ne montera jamais ce vilain escalier. D&rsquo;ailleurs
+c&rsquo;est au cinquième. Mais, madame, c&rsquo;est impossible.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Notwithstanding the impossibility, Madame de Fleury proceeded; and
+bidding her talkative footman wait in the entry, made her way up the
+dark, dirty, broken staircase, the sound of the cries increasing every
+instant, till, as she reached the fifth storey, she heard the shrieks
+of one in violent pain. She hastened to the door of the room from
+which the cries proceeded; the door was fastened, and the noise was
+so great that, though she knocked as loud as she was able, she could
+not immediately make herself heard. At last the voice of a child
+from within answered, &ldquo;The door is locked&mdash;mamma has the
+key in her pocket, and won&rsquo;t be home till night; and here&rsquo;s
+Victoire has tumbled from the top of the big press, and it is she that
+is shrieking so.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Madame de Fleury ran down the stairs which she had ascended with
+so much difficulty, called to her footman, who was waiting in the entry,
+despatched him for a surgeon, and then she returned to obtain from some
+people who lodged in the house assistance to force open the door of
+the room in which the children were confined.</p>
+
+<p>On the next floor there was a smith at work, filing so earnestly
+that he did not hear the screams of the children. When his door
+was pushed open, and the bright vision of Madame de Fleury appeared
+to him, his astonishment was so great that he seemed incapable of comprehending
+what she said. In a strong provincial accent he repeated, &ldquo;<i>Plait-il</i>?&rdquo;
+and stood aghast till she had explained herself three times; then suddenly
+exclaiming, &ldquo;Ah! c&rsquo;est ça;&rdquo;&mdash;he collected
+his tools precipitately, and followed to obey her orders. The
+door of the room was at last forced half open, for a press that had
+been overturned prevented its opening entirely. The horrible smells
+that issued did not overcome Madame de Fleury&rsquo;s humanity: she
+squeezed her way into the room, and behind the fallen press saw three
+little children: the youngest, almost an infant, ceased roaring, and
+ran to a corner; the eldest, a boy of about eight years old, whose face
+and clothes were covered with blood, held on his knee a girl younger
+than himself, whom he was trying to pacify, but who struggled most violently
+and screamed incessantly, regardless of Madame de Fleury, to whose questions
+she made no answer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where are you hurt, my dear?&rdquo; repeated Madame de Fleury
+in a soothing voice. &ldquo;Only tell me where you feel pain?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The boy, showing his sister&rsquo;s arm, said, in a surly tone&mdash;&ldquo;It
+is this that is hurt&mdash;but it was not I did it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was, it <i>was</i>!&rdquo; cried the girl as loud as she
+could vociferate: &ldquo;it was Maurice threw me down from the top of
+the press.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No&mdash;it was you that were pushing me, Victoire, and you
+fell backwards.&mdash;Have done screeching, and show your arm to the
+lady.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said the girl.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She won&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said the boy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She cannot,&rdquo; said Madame de Fleury, kneeling down to
+examine it. &ldquo;She cannot move it; I am afraid that it is
+broken.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t touch it! don&rsquo;t touch it!&rdquo; cried the
+girl, screaming more violently.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ma&rsquo;am, she screams that way for nothing often,&rdquo;
+said the boy. &ldquo;Her arm is no more broke than mine, I&rsquo;m
+sure; she&rsquo;ll move it well enough when she&rsquo;s not cross.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; said Madame de Fleury, &ldquo;that her
+arm is broken.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is it indeed?&rdquo; said the boy, with a look of terror.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh! don&rsquo;t touch it&mdash;you&rsquo;ll kill me; you are
+killing me,&rdquo; screamed the poor girl, whilst Madame de Fleury with
+the greatest care endeavoured to join the bones in their proper place,
+and resolved to hold the arm till the arrival of the surgeon.</p>
+
+<p>From the feminine appearance of this lady, no stranger would have
+expected such resolution; but with all the natural sensibility and graceful
+delicacy of her sex, she had none of that weakness or affection which
+incapacitates from being useful in real distress. In most sudden
+accidents, and in all domestic misfortunes, female resolution and presence
+of mind are indispensably requisite: safety, health, and life often
+depend upon the fortitude of women. Happy they who, like Madame
+de Fleury, possess strength of mind united with the utmost gentleness
+of manner and tenderness of disposition!</p>
+
+<p>Soothed by this lady&rsquo;s sweet voice, the child&rsquo;s rage
+subsided; and no longer struggling, the poor little girl sat quietly
+on her lap, sometimes writhing and moaning with pain.</p>
+
+<p>The surgeon at length arrived: her arm was set: and he said &ldquo;that
+she had probably been saved much future pain by Madame de Fleury&rsquo;s
+presence of mind.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sir,&mdash;will it soon be well?&rdquo; said Maurice to the
+surgeon.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh yes, very soon, I dare say,&rdquo; said the little girl.
+&ldquo;To-morrow, perhaps; for now that it is tied up it does not hurt
+me to signify&mdash;and after all, I do believe, Maurice, it was not
+you threw me down.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As she spoke, she held up her face to kiss her brother.&mdash;&ldquo;That
+is right,&rdquo; said Madame de Fleury; &ldquo;there is a good sister.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The little girl put out her lips, offering a second kiss, but the
+boy turned hastily away to rub the tears from his eyes with the back
+of his hand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am not cross now: am I, Maurice?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, Victoire; I was cross myself when I said <i>that</i>.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As Victoire was going to speak again, the surgeon imposed silence,
+observing that she must be put to bed, and should be kept quiet.
+Madame de Fleury laid her upon the bed, as soon as Maurice had cleared
+it of the things with which it was covered; and as they were spreading
+the ragged blanket over the little girl, she whispered a request to
+Madame de Fleury that she would &ldquo;stay till her mamma came home,
+to beg Maurice off from being whipped, if mamma should be angry.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Touched by this instance of goodness, and compassionating the desolate
+condition of these children, Madame de Fleury complied with Victoire&rsquo;s
+request; resolving to remonstrate with their mother for leaving them
+locked up in this manner. They did not know to what part of the
+town their mother was gone; they could tell only &ldquo;that she was
+to go to a great many different places to carry back work, and to bring
+home more, and that she expected to be in by five.&rdquo; It was
+now half after four.</p>
+
+<p>Whilst Madame de Fleury waited, she asked the boy to give her a full
+account of the manner in which the accident had happened.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, ma&rsquo;am,&rdquo; said Maurice, twisting and untwisting
+a ragged handkerchief as he spoke, &ldquo;the first beginning of all
+the mischief was, we had nothing to do, so we went to the ashes to make
+dirt pies; but Babet would go so close that she burnt her petticoat,
+and threw about all our ashes, and plagued us, and we whipped her.
+But all would not do, she would not be quiet; so to get out of her reach,
+we climbed up by this chair on the table to the top of the press, and
+there we were well enough for a little while, till somehow we began
+to quarrel about the old scissors, and we struggled hard for them till
+I got this cut.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Here he unwound the handkerchief, and for the first time showed the
+wound, which he had never mentioned before.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then,&rdquo; continued he, &ldquo;when I got the cut, I shoved
+Victoire, and she pushed at me again, and I was keeping her off, and
+her foot slipped, and down she fell, and caught by the press-door, and
+pulled it and me after her, and that&rsquo;s all I know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is well that you were not both killed,&rdquo; said Madame
+de Fleury. &ldquo;Are you often left locked up in this manner
+by yourselves, and without anything to do?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, always, when mamma is abroad, except sometimes we are
+let out upon the stairs or in the street; but mamma says we get into
+mischief there.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This dialogue was interrupted by the return of the mother.
+She came upstairs slowly, much fatigued, and with a heavy bundle under
+her arm.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How now! Maurice, how comes my door open? What&rsquo;s
+all this?&rdquo; cried she, in an angry voice; but seeing a lady sitting
+upon her child&rsquo;s bed, she stopped short in great astonishment.
+Madame de Fleury related what had happened, and averted her anger from
+Maurice by gently expostulating upon the hardship and hazard of leaving
+her young children in this manner during so many hours of the day.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, my lady,&rdquo; replied the poor woman, wiping her forehead,
+&ldquo;every hard-working woman in Paris does the same with her children;
+and what can I do else? I must earn bread for these helpless ones,
+and to do that I must be out backwards and forwards, and to the furthest
+parts of the town, often from morning till night, with those that employ
+me; and I cannot afford to send the children to school, or to keep any
+kind of a servant to look after them; and when I&rsquo;m away, if I
+let them run about these stairs and entries, or go into the streets,
+they do get a little exercise and air, to be sure, such as it is on
+which account I do let them out sometimes; but then a deal of mischief
+comes of that, too: they learn all kinds of wickedness, and would grow
+up to be no better than pickpockets, if they were let often to consort
+with the little vagabonds they find in the streets. So what to
+do better for them I don&rsquo;t know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The poor mother sat down upon the fallen press, looked at Victoire,
+and wept bitterly. Madame de Fleury was struck with compassion;
+but she did not satisfy her feelings merely by words or comfort or by
+the easy donation of some money&mdash;she resolved to do something more,
+and something better.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER II</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;Come often, then; for haply in my bower<br />
+Amusement, knowledge, wisdom, thou may&rsquo;st gain:<br />
+If I one soul improve, I have not lived in vain.&rdquo;&mdash;BEATTIE.</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>It is not so easy to do good as those who have never attempted it
+may imagine; and they who without consideration follow the mere instinct
+of pity, often by their imprudent generosity create evils more pernicious
+to society than any which they partially remedy. &ldquo;Warm Charity,
+the general friend,&rdquo; may become the general enemy, unless she
+consults her head as well as her heart. Whilst she pleases herself
+with the idea that she daily feeds hundreds of the poor, she is perhaps
+preparing want and famine for thousands. Whilst she delights herself
+with the anticipation of gratitude for her bounties, she is often exciting
+only unreasonable expectations, inducing habits of dependence and submission
+to slavery.</p>
+
+<p>Those who wish to do good should attend to experience, from whom
+they may receive lessons upon the largest scale that time and numbers
+can afford.</p>
+
+<p>Madame de Fleury was aware that neither a benevolent disposition
+nor a large fortune were sufficient to enable her to be of real service,
+without the constant exercise of her judgment. She had, therefore,
+listened with deference to the conversation of well-informed men upon
+those subjects on which ladies have not always the means or the wish
+to acquire extensive and accurate knowledge. Though a Parisian
+belle, she had read with attention some of those books which are generally
+thought too dry or too deep for her sex. Consequently, her benevolence
+was neither wild in theory nor precipitate nor ostentatious in practice.</p>
+
+<p>Touched with compassion for a little girl whose arm had been accidentally
+broken, and shocked by the discovery of the confinement and the dangers
+to which numbers of children in Paris were doomed, she did not make
+a parade of her sensibility. She did not talk of her feelings
+in fine sentences to a circle of opulent admirers, nor did she project
+for the relief of the little sufferers some magnificent establishment
+which she could not execute or superintend. She was contented
+with attempting only what she had reasonable hopes of accomplishing.</p>
+
+<p>The gift of education she believed to be more advantageous than the
+gift of money to the poor, as it ensures the means both of future subsistence
+and happiness. But the application even of this incontrovertible
+principle requires caution and judgment. To crowd numbers of children
+into a place called a school, to abandon them to the management of any
+person called a schoolmaster or a schoolmistress, is not sufficient
+to secure the blessings of a good education. Madame de Fleury
+was sensible that the greatest care is necessary in the choice of the
+person to whom young children are to be entrusted; she knew that only
+a certain number can be properly directed by one superintendent, and
+that, by attempting to do too much, she might do nothing, or worse than
+nothing. Her school was formed, therefore, on a small scale, which
+she could enlarge to any extent, if it should be found to succeed.
+From some of the families of poor people, who, in earning their bread,
+are obliged to spend most of the day from home, she selected twelve
+little girls, of whom Victoire was the eldest, and she was between six
+and seven.</p>
+
+<p>The person under whose care Madame de Fleury wished to place these
+children was a nun of the <i>Soeurs de la Charité</i>, with whose
+simplicity of character, benevolence, and mild, steady temper she was
+thoroughly acquainted. Sister Frances was delighted with the plan.
+Any scheme that promised to be of service to her follow-creatures was
+sure of meeting with her approbation; but this suited her taste peculiarly,
+because she was extremely fond of children. No young person had
+ever boarded six months at her convent without becoming attached to
+good Sister Frances.</p>
+
+<p>The period of which we are writing was some years before convents
+were abolished; but the strictness of their rules had in many instances
+been considerably relaxed. Without much difficulty, permission
+was obtained from the abbess for our nun to devote her time during the
+day to the care of these poor children, upon condition that she should
+regularly return to her convent every night before evening prayers.
+The house which Madame de Fleury chose for her little school was in
+an airy part of the town; it did not face the street, but was separated
+from other buildings at the back of a court, retired from noise and
+bustle. The two rooms intended for the occupation of the children
+were neat and clean, but perfectly simple, with whitewashed walls, furnished
+only with wooden stools and benches, and plain deal tables. The
+kitchen was well lighted (for light is essential to cleanliness), and
+it was provided with utensils; and for these appropriate places were
+allotted, to give the habit and the taste of order. The schoolroom
+opened into a garden larger than is usually seen in towns. The
+nun, who had been accustomed to purchase provisions for her convent,
+undertook to prepare daily for the children breakfast and dinner; they
+were to sup and sleep at their respective homes. Their parents
+were to take them to Sister Frances every morning when they went out
+to work, and to call for them upon their return home every evening.
+By this arrangement, the natural ties of affection and intimacy between
+the children and their parents would not be loosened; they would be
+separate only at the time when their absence must be inevitable.
+Madame de Fleury thought that any education which estranges children
+entirely from their parents must be fundamentally erroneous; that such
+a separation must tend to destroy that sense of filial affection and
+duty, and those principles of domestic subordination, on which so many
+of the interests and much of the virtue and happiness of society depend.
+The parents of these poor children were eager to trust them to her care,
+and they strenuously endeavoured to promote what they perceived to be
+entirely to their advantage. They promised to take their daughters
+to school punctually every morning&mdash;a promise which was likely
+to be kept, as a good breakfast was to be ready at a certain hour, and
+not to wait for anybody. The parents looked forward with pleasure,
+also, to the idea of calling for their little girls at the end of their
+day&rsquo;s labour, and of taking them home to their family supper.
+During the intermediate hours the children were constantly to be employed,
+or in exercise. It was difficult to provide suitable employments
+for their early age; but even the youngest of those admitted could be
+taught to wind balls of cotton, thread, and silk for haberdashers; or
+they could shell peas and beans, &amp;c., for a neighbouring <i>traiteur</i>;
+or they could weed in a garden. The next in age could learn knitting
+and plain work, reading, writing, and arithmetic. As the girls
+should grow up, they were to be made useful in the care of the house.
+Sister Frances said she could teach them to wash and iron, and that
+she would make them as skilful in cookery as she was herself.
+This last was doubtless a rash promise; for in most of the mysteries
+of the culinary art, especially in the medical branches of it, in making
+savoury messes palatable to the sick, few could hope to equal the neat-handed
+Sister Frances. She had a variety of other accomplishments; but
+her humility and good sense forbade her upon the present occasion to
+mention these. She said nothing of embroidery, or of painting,
+or of cutting out paper, or of carving in ivory, though in all these
+she excelled: her cuttings-out in paper were exquisite as the finest
+lace; her embroidered housewives, and her painted boxes, and her fan-mounts,
+and her curiously-wrought ivory toys, had obtained for her the highest
+reputation in the convent amongst the best judges in the world.
+Those only who have philosophically studied and thoroughly understand
+the nature of fame and vanity can justly appreciate the self-denial
+or magnanimity of Sister Frances, in forbearing to enumerate or boast
+of these things. She alluded to them but once, and in the slightest
+and most humble manner.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;These little creatures are too young for us to think of teaching
+them anything but plain work at present; but if hereafter any of them
+should show a superior genius we can cultivate it properly. Heaven
+has been pleased to endow me with the means&mdash;at least, our convent
+says so.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The actions of Sister Frances showed as much moderation as her words;
+for though she was strongly tempted to adorn her new dwelling with those
+specimens of her skill which had long been the glory of her apartment
+in the convent, yet she resisted the impulse, and contented herself
+with hanging over the chimney-piece of her schoolroom a Madonna of her
+own painting.</p>
+
+<p>The day arrived when she was to receive her pupils in their new habitation.
+When the children entered the room for the first time, they paid the
+Madonna the homage of their unfeigned admiration. Involuntarily
+the little crowd stopped short at the sight of the picture. Some
+dormant emotions of human vanity were now awakened&mdash;played for
+a moment about the heart of Sister Frances&mdash;and may be forgiven.
+Her vanity was innocent and transient, her benevolence permanent and
+useful. Repressing the vain-glory of an artist, as she fixed her
+eyes upon the Madonna, her thoughts rose to higher objects, and she
+seized this happy moment to impress upon the minds of her young pupils
+their first religious ideas and feelings. There was such unaffected
+piety in her manner, such goodness in her countenance, such persuasion
+in her voice, and simplicity in her words, that the impression she made
+was at once serious, pleasing, and not to be effaced. Much depends
+upon the moment and the manner in which the first notions of religion
+are communicated to children; if these ideas be connected with terror,
+and produced when the mind is sullen or in a state of dejection, the
+future religious feelings are sometimes of a gloomy, dispiriting sort;
+but if the first impression be made when the heart is expanded by hope
+or touched by affection, these emotions are happily and permanently
+associated with religion. This should be particularly attended
+to by those who undertake the instruction of the children of the poor,
+who must lead a life of labour, and can seldom have leisure or inclination,
+when arrived at years of discretion, to re-examine the principles early
+infused into their minds. They cannot in their riper age conquer
+by reason those superstitions terrors, or bigoted prejudices, which
+render their victims miserable, or perhaps criminal. To attempt
+to rectify any errors in the foundation after an edifice has been constructed
+is dangerous: the foundation, therefore, should be laid with care.
+The religious opinions of Sister Frances were strictly united with just
+rules of morality, strongly enforcing, as the essential means of obtaining
+present and future happiness, the practice of the social virtues, so
+that no good or wise persons, however they might differ from her in
+modes of faith, could doubt the beneficial influence of her general
+principles, or disapprove of the manner in which they were inculcated.</p>
+
+<p>Detached from every other worldly interest, this benevolent nun devoted
+all her earthly thoughts to the children of whom she had undertaken
+the charge. She watched over them with unceasing vigilance, whilst
+diffidence of her own abilities was happily supported by her high opinion
+of Madame de Fleury&rsquo;s judgment. This lady constantly visited
+her pupils every week; not in the hasty, negligent manner in which fine
+ladies sometimes visit charitable institutions, imagining that the honour
+of their presence is to work miracles, and that everything will go on
+rightly when they have said, &ldquo;<i>Let it be so</i>,&rdquo; or,
+&ldquo;<i>I must have it so</i>.&rdquo; Madame de Fleury&rsquo;s
+visits were not of this dictatorial or cursory nature. Not minutes,
+but hours, she devoted to these children&mdash;she who could charm by
+the grace of her manners, and delight by the elegance of her conversation,
+the most polished circles and the best-informed societies of Paris,
+preferred to the glory of being admired the pleasure of being useful:&mdash;</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;Her life, as lovely as her face,<br />
+Each duty mark&rsquo;d with every grace;<br />
+Her native sense improved by reading,<br />
+Her native sweetness by good breeding.&rdquo;</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER III</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;Ah me! how much I fear lest pride it be;<br />
+But if that pride it be which thus inspires,<br />
+Beware, ye dames! with nice discernment see<br />
+Ye quench not too the sparks of nobler fires.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>SHENSTONE.</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>By repeated observation, and by attending to the minute reports of
+Sister Frances, Madame de Fleury soon became acquainted with the habits
+and temper of each individual in this little society. The most
+intelligent and the most amiable of these children was Victoire.
+Whence her superiority arose, whether her abilities were naturally more
+vivacious than those of her companions, or whether they had been more
+early developed by accidental excitation, we cannot pretend to determine,
+lest we should involve ourselves in the intricate question respecting
+natural genius&mdash;a metaphysical point, which we shall not in this
+place stop to discuss. Till the world has an accurate philosophical
+dictionary (a work not to be expected in less than half a dozen centuries),
+this question will never be decided to general satisfaction. In
+the meantime we may proceed with our story.</p>
+
+<p>Deep was the impression made on Victoire&rsquo;s heart by the kindness
+that Madame de Fleury showed her at the time her arm was broken; and
+her gratitude was expressed with all the enthusiastic fondness of childhood.
+Whenever she spoke or heard of Madame de Fleury her countenance became
+interested and animated in a degree that would have astonished a cool
+English spectator. Every morning her first question to Sister
+Frances was: &ldquo;Will <i>she</i> come to-day?&rdquo; If Madame
+de Fleury was expected, the hours and the minutes were counted, and
+the sand in the hour-glass that stood on the schoolroom table was frequently
+shaken. The moment she appeared Victoire ran to her, and was silent;
+satisfied with standing close beside her, holding her gown when unperceived,
+and watching, as she spoke and moved, every turn of her countenance.
+Delighted by these marks of sensibility, Sister Frances would have praised
+the child, but was warned by Madame de Fleury to refrain from injudicious
+eulogiums, lest she should teach her affectation.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If I must not praise, you will permit me at least to love
+her,&rdquo; said Sister Frances.</p>
+
+<p>Her affection for Victoire was increased by compassion: during two
+months the poor child&rsquo;s arm hung in a sling, so that she could
+not venture to play with her companions. At their hours of recreation
+she used to sit on the schoolroom steps, looking down into the garden
+at the scene of merriment in which she could not partake.</p>
+
+<p>For those who know how to find it, there is good in everything.
+Sister Frances used to take her seat on the steps, sometimes with her
+work and sometimes with a book; and Victoire, tired of being quite idle,
+listened with eagerness to the stories which Sister Frances read, or
+watched with interest the progress of her work; soon she longed to imitate
+what she saw done with so much pleasure, and begged to be taught to
+work and read. By degrees she learned her alphabet, and could
+soon, to the amazement of her schoolfellows, read the names of all the
+animals in Sister Frances&rsquo; picture-book. No matter how trifling
+the thing done, or the knowledge acquired, a great point is gained by
+giving the desire for employment. Children frequently become industrious
+from impatience of the pains and penalties of idleness. Count
+Rumford showed that he understood childish nature perfectly well when,
+in his House of Industry at Munich, he compelled the young children
+to sit for some time idle in a gallery round the hall, where others
+a little older than themselves were busied at work. During Victoire&rsquo;s
+state of idle convalescence she acquired the desire to be employed,
+and she consequently soon became more industrious than her neighbours.
+Succeeding in her first efforts, she was praised&mdash;was pleased,
+and persevered till she became an example of activity to her companions.
+But Victoire, though now nearly seven years old, was not quite perfect.
+Naturally, or accidentally, she was very passionate, and not a little
+self-willed.</p>
+
+<p>One day being mounted, horsemanlike, with whip in hand, upon the
+banister of the flight of stairs leading from the schoolroom to the
+garden, she called in a tone of triumph to her playfellows, desiring
+them to stand out of the way, and see her slide from top to bottom.
+At this moment Sister Frances came to the schoolroom door and forbade
+the feat; but Victoire, regardless of all prohibition, slid down instantly,
+and moreover was going to repeat the glorious operation, when Sister
+Frances, catching hold of her arm, pointed to a heap of sharp stones
+that lay on the ground upon the other side of the banisters.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am not afraid,&rdquo; said Victoire.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But if you fall there, you may break your arm again.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And if I do, I can bear it,&rdquo; said Victoire. &ldquo;Let
+me go, pray let me go: I must do it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No; I forbid you, Victoire, to slide down again. Babet
+and all the little ones would follow your example, and perhaps break
+their necks.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The nun, as she spoke, attempted to compel Victoire to dismount;
+but she was so much of a heroine, that she would do nothing upon compulsion.
+Clinging fast to the banisters, she resisted with all her might; she
+kicked and screamed, and screamed and kicked, but at last her feet were
+taken prisoners; then grasping the railway with one hand, with the other
+she brandished high the little whip.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What!&rdquo; said the mild nun, &ldquo;would you strike me
+with that <i>arm</i>?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The arm dropped instantly&mdash;Victoire recollected Madame de Fleury&rsquo;s
+kindness the day when the arm was broken; dismounting immediately, she
+threw herself upon her knees in the midst of the crowd of young spectators,
+and begged pardon of Sister Frances. For the rest of the day she
+was as gentle as a lamb; nay, some assert that the effects of her contrition
+were visible during the remainder of the week.</p>
+
+<p>Having thus found the secret of reducing the little rebel to obedience
+by touching her on the tender point of gratitude, the nun had recourse
+to this expedient in all perilous cases; but one day, when she was boasting
+of the infallible operation of her charm, Madame de Fleury advised her
+to forbear recurring to it frequently, lest she should wear out the
+sensibility she so much loved. In consequence of this counsel,
+Victoire&rsquo;s violence of temper was sometimes reduced by force and
+sometimes corrected by reason; but the principle and the feeling of
+gratitude were not exhausted or weakened in the struggle. The
+hope of reward operated upon her generous mind more powerfully than
+the fear of punishment; and Madame de Fleury devised rewards with as
+much ability as some legislators invent punishments.</p>
+
+<p>Victoire&rsquo;s brother Maurice, who was now of an age to earn his
+own bread, had a strong desire to be bound apprentice to the smith who
+worked in the house where his mother lodged. This most ardent
+wish of his soul he had imparted to his sister; and she consulted her
+benefactress, whom she considered as all-powerful in this, as in every
+other affair.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your brother&rsquo;s wish shall be gratified,&rdquo; replied
+Madame de Fleury, &ldquo;if you can keep your temper one month.
+If you are never in a passion for a whole month, I will undertake that
+your brother shall be bound apprentice to his friend the smith.
+To your companions, to Sister Frances, and above all to yourself, I
+trust, to make me a just report this day month.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER IV</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;You she preferred to all the gay resorts,<br />
+Where female vanity might wish to shine,<br />
+The pomp of cities, and the pride of courts.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>LYTTELTON.</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>At the end of the time prescribed, the judges, including Victoire
+herself, who was the most severe of them all, agreed she had justly
+deserved her reward. Maurice obtained his wish; and Victoire&rsquo;s
+temper never relapsed into its former bad habits&mdash;so powerful is
+the effect of a well-chosen motive! Perhaps the historian may
+be blamed for dwelling on such trivial anecdotes; yet a lady, who was
+accustomed to the conversation of deep philosophers and polished courtiers,
+listened without disdain to these simple annals. Nothing appeared
+to her a trifle that could tend to form the habits of temper, truth,
+honesty, order, and industry: habits which are to be early induced,
+not by solemn precepts, but by practical lessons. A few more examples
+of these shall be recorded, notwithstanding the fear of being tiresome.</p>
+
+<p>One day little Babet, who was now five years old, saw, as she was
+coming to school, an old woman sitting at a corner of the street beside
+a large black brazier full of roasted chestnuts. Babet thought
+that the chestnuts looked and smelled very good; the old woman was talking
+earnestly to some people, who were on her other side; Babet filled her
+work-bag with chestnuts, and then ran after her mother and sister, who,
+having turned the corner of the street, had not seen what passed.
+When Babet came to the schoolroom, she opened her bag with triumph,
+displayed her treasure, and offered to divide it with her companions.
+&ldquo;Here, Victoire,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;here is the largest chestnut
+for you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Victoire would not take it; for she said that Babet had no money,
+and that she could not have come honestly by these chestnuts.
+She spoke so forcibly upon this point that even those who had the tempting
+morsel actually at their lips forbore to bite; those who had bitten
+laid down their half-eaten prize; and those who had their hands full
+of chestnuts rolled them back again towards the bag. Babet cried
+with vexation.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I burned my fingers in getting them for you, and now you won&rsquo;t
+eat them!&mdash;And I must not eat them!&rdquo; said she: then curbing
+her passion, she added, &ldquo;But at any rate, I won&rsquo;t be a thief.
+I am sure I did not think it was being a thief just to take a few chestnuts
+from an old woman who had such heaps and heaps; but Victoire says it
+is wrong, and I would not be a thief for all the chestnuts in the world&mdash;I&rsquo;ll
+throw them all into the fire this minute!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No; give them back again to the old woman,&rdquo; said Victoire.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, may be, she would scold me for having taken them,&rdquo;
+said Babet; &ldquo;or who knows but she might whip me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And if she did, could you not bear it?&rdquo; said Victoire.
+&ldquo;I am sure I would rather bear twenty whippings than be a thief.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Twenty, whippings! that&rsquo;s a great many,&rdquo; said
+Babet; &ldquo;and I am so little, consider&mdash;and that woman has
+such a monstrous arm!&mdash;Now, if it was Sister Frances, it would
+be another thing. But come! if you will go with me, Victoire,
+you shall see how I will behave.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We will all go with you,&rdquo; said Victoire.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, all!&rdquo; said the children; &ldquo;And Sister Frances,
+I dare say, would go, if you asked her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Babet ran and told her, and she readily consented to accompany the
+little penitent to make restitution. The chestnut woman did not
+whip Babet, nor even scold her, but said she was sure that since the
+child was so honest as to return what she had taken, she would never
+steal again. This was the most glorious day of Babet&rsquo;s life,
+and the happiest. When the circumstance was told to Madame de
+Fleury, she gave the little girl a bag of the best chestnuts the old
+women could select, and Babet with great delight shared her reward with
+her companions.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, alas! these chestnuts are not roasted. Oh, if we
+could but roast them!&rdquo; said the children.</p>
+
+<p>Sister Frances placed in the middle of the table on which the chestnuts
+were spread a small earthenware furnace&mdash;a delightful toy, commonly
+used by children in Paris to cook their little feasts.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This can be bought for sixpence,&rdquo; said she: &ldquo;and
+if each of you twelve earn one halfpenny apiece to-day, you can purchase
+it to-night, and I will put a little fire into it, and you will then
+be able to roast your chestnuts.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The children ran eagerly to their work&mdash;some to wind worsted
+for a woman who paid them a <i>liard</i> for each ball, others to shell
+peas for a neighbouring <i>traiteur</i>&mdash;all rejoicing that they
+were able to earn something. The older girls, under the directions
+and with the assistance of Sister Frances, completed making, washing,
+and ironing, half a dozen little caps, to supply a baby-linen warehouse.
+At the end of the day, when the sum of the produce of their labours
+was added together, they were surprised to find that, instead of one,
+they could purchase two furnaces. They received and enjoyed the
+reward of their united industry. The success of their first efforts
+was fixed in their memory: for they were very happy roasting the chestnuts,
+and they were all (Sister Frances inclusive) unanimous in opinion that
+no chestnuts ever were so good, or so well roasted. Sister Frances
+always partook in their little innocent amusements; and it was her great
+delight to be the dispenser of rewards which at once conferred present
+pleasure and cherished future virtue.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER V</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;To virtue wake the pulses of the heart,<br />
+And bid the tear of emulation start.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>ROGERS.</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>Victoire, who gave constant exercise to the benevolent feelings of
+the amiable nun, became every day more dear to her. Far from having
+the selfishness of a favourite, Victoire loved to bring into public
+notice the good actions of her companions. &ldquo;Stoop down your
+ear to me, Sister Frances,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;and I will tell you
+a secret&mdash;I will tell you why my friend Annette is growing so thin&mdash;I
+found it out this morning&mdash;she does not eat above half her soup
+every day. Look, there&rsquo;s her porringer covered up in the
+corner&mdash;she carries it home to her mother, who is sick, and who
+has not bread to eat.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Madame de Fleury came in whilst Sister Frances was yet bending down
+to hear this secret; it was repeated to her, and she immediately ordered
+that a certain allowance of bread should be given to Annette every day
+to carry to her mother during her illness.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I give it in charge to you, Victoire, to remember this, and
+I am sure it will never be forgotten. Here is an order for you
+upon my baker: run and show it to Annette. This is a pleasure
+you deserve; I am glad that you have chosen for your friend a girl who
+is so good a daughter. Good daughters make good friends.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>By similar instances of goodness Victoire obtained the love and confidence
+of her companions, notwithstanding her manifest superiority. In
+their turn, they were eager to proclaim her merits; and, as Sister Frances
+and Madame de Fleury administered justice with invariable impartiality,
+the hateful passions of envy and jealousy were never excited in this
+little society. No servile sycophant, no malicious detractor,
+could rob or defraud their little virtues of their due reward.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Whom shall I trust to take this to Madame de Fleury?&rdquo;
+said Sister Frances, carrying into the garden where the children were
+playing a pot of fine jonquils, which she had brought from her convent.&mdash;&ldquo;These
+are the first jonquils I have seen this year, and finer I never beheld!
+Whom shall I trust to take them to Madame de Fleury this evening?&mdash;It
+must be some one who will not stop to stare about on the way, but who
+will be very, very careful&mdash;some one in whom I can place perfect
+dependence.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It must be Victoire, then,&rdquo; cried every voice.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, she deserves it to-day particularly,&rdquo; said Annette
+eagerly; &ldquo;because she was not angry with Babet when she did what
+was enough to put anybody in a passion. Sister Frances, you know
+this cherry-tree which you grafted for Victoire last year, and that
+was yesterday so full of blossoms&mdash;now you see, there is not a
+blossom left!&mdash;Babet plucked them all this morning to make a nosegay.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But she did not know,&rdquo; said Victoire, &ldquo;that pulling
+off the blossoms would prevent my having any cherries.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I am very sorry I was so foolish,&rdquo; said Babet; &ldquo;Victoire
+did not even say a cross word to me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Though she was excessively anxious about the cherries,&rdquo;
+pursued Annette, &ldquo;because she intended to have given the first
+she had to Madame de Fleury.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Victoire, take the jonquils&mdash;it is but just,&rdquo; said
+Sister Frances. &ldquo;How I do love to hear them all praise her!&mdash;I
+knew what she would be from the first.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>With a joyful heart Victoire took the jonquils, promised to carry
+them with the utmost care, and not to stop to stare on the way.
+She set out to Madame de Fleury&rsquo;s hotel, which was in <i>La Place
+de Louis Quinze</i>. It was late in the evening, the lamps were
+lighting, and as Victoire crossed the Pont de Louis Seize, she stopped
+to look at the reflection of the lamps in the water, which appeared
+in succession, as they were lighted, spreading as if by magic along
+the river. While Victoire leaned over the battlements of the bridge,
+watching the rising of these stars of fire, a sudden push from the elbow
+of some rude passenger precipitated her pot of jonquils into the Seine.
+The sound it made in the water was thunder to the ear of Victoire; she
+stood for an instant vainly hoping it would rise again, but the waters
+had closed over it for ever.</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;Dans cet état affreux, que faire?<br />
+. . . Mon devoir.&rdquo;</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>Victoire courageously proceeded to Madame de Fleury&rsquo;s, and
+desired to see her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;D&rsquo;abord c&rsquo;est impossible&mdash;madame is dressing
+to go to a concert,&rdquo; said François. &ldquo;Cannot
+you leave your message?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh no,&rdquo; said Victoire; &ldquo;it is of great consequence&mdash;I
+must see her myself; and she is so good, and you too, Monsieur François,
+that I am sure you will not refuse.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I remember one day you found the seal of my watch, which
+I dropped at your schoolroom door&mdash;one good turn deserves another.
+If it is possible it shall be done&mdash;I will inquire of madame&rsquo;s
+woman.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Follow me upstairs,&rdquo; said he, returning
+in a few minutes; &ldquo;madame will see you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She followed him up the large staircase, and through a suite of apartments
+sufficiently grand to intimidate her young imagination.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Madame est dans son cabinet. Entrez&mdash;mais entrez
+donc, entrez toujours.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Madame de Fleury was more richly dressed than usual; and her image
+was reflected in the large looking-glass, so that at the first moment
+Victoire thought she saw many fine ladies, but not one of them the lady
+she wanted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, Victoire, my child, what is the matter?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, it is her voice!&mdash;I know you now, madame, and I am
+not afraid&mdash;not afraid even to tell you how foolish I have been.
+Sister Frances trusted me to carry for you, madame, a beautiful pot
+of jonquils, and she desired me not to stop on the way to stare; but
+I did stop to look at the lamps on the bridge, and I forgot the jonquils,
+and somebody brushed by me and threw them into the river&mdash;and I
+am very sorry I was so foolish.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And I am very glad that you are so wise as to tell the truth,
+without attempting to make any paltry excuses. Go home to Sister
+Frances, and assure her that I am more obliged to her for making you
+such an honest girl than I could be for a whole bed of jonquils.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Victoire&rsquo;s heart was so full that she could not speak&mdash;she
+kissed Madame de Fleury&rsquo;s hand in silence, and then seemed to
+be lost in contemplation of her bracelet.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Are you thinking, Victoire, that you should be much happier
+if you had such bracelets as these? Believe me, you are mistaken
+if you think so; many people are unhappy who wear fine bracelets; so,
+my child, content yourself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Myself! Oh, madame, I was not thinking of myself&mdash;I
+was not wishing for bracelets; I was only thinking that&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That what?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That it is a pity you are so very rich; you have everything
+in this world that you want, and I can never be of the least use to
+<i>you</i>&mdash;all my life I shall never be able to do <i>you</i>
+any good&mdash;and what,&rdquo; said Victoire, turning away to hide
+her tears, &ldquo;what signifies the gratitude of such a poor little
+creature as I am?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did you never hear the fable of the lion and the mouse, Victoire?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, madame&mdash;never!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then I will tell it to you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Victoire looked up with eyes of eager expectation&mdash;François
+opened the door to announce that the Marquis de M--- and the Comte de
+S--- were in the saloon; but Madame de Fleury stayed to tell Victoire
+her fable&mdash;she would not lose the opportunity of making an impression
+upon this child&rsquo;s heart.</p>
+
+<p>It is whilst the mind is warm that the deepest impressions can be
+made. Seizing the happy moment sometimes decides the character
+and the fate of a child. In this respect, what advantages have
+the rich and great in educating the children of the poor! they have
+the power which their rank and all its decorations obtain over the imagination.
+Their smiles are favours; their words are listened to as oracular; they
+are looked up to as beings of a superior order. Their powers of
+working good are almost as great, though not quite so wonderful, as
+those formerly attributed to beneficent fairies.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER VI</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;Knowledge for them unlocks her <i>useful</i> page,<br />
+And virtue blossoms for a better age.&rdquo;&mdash;BARBAULD.</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>A few days after Madame de Fleury had told Victoire the fable of
+the lion and the mouse, she was informed by Sister Frances that Victoire
+had put the fable into verse. It was wonderfully well done for
+a child of nine years old, and Madame de Fleury was tempted to praise
+the lines; but, checking the enthusiasm of the moment, she considered
+whether it would be advantageous to cultivate her pupil&rsquo;s talent
+for poetry. Excellence in the poetic art cannot be obtained without
+a degree of application for which a girl in her situation could not
+have leisure. To encourage her to become a mere rhyming scribbler,
+without any chance of obtaining celebrity or securing subsistence, would
+be folly and cruelty. Early prodigies in the lower ranks of life
+are seldom permanently successful; they are cried up one day, and cried
+down the next. Their productions rarely have that superiority
+which secures a fair preference in the great literary market.
+Their performances are, perhaps, said to be <i>wonderful, all things
+considered</i>, &amp;c. Charitable allowances are made; the books
+are purchased by associations of complaisant friends or opulent patrons;
+a kind of forced demand is raised, but this can be only temporary and
+delusive. In spite of bounties and of all the arts of protection,
+nothing but what is intrinsically good will long be preferred, when
+it must be purchased. But granting that positive excellence is
+attained, there is always danger that for works of fancy the taste of
+the public may suddenly vary: there is a fashion in these things; and
+when the mode changes, the mere literary manufacturer is thrown out
+of employment; he is unable to turn his hand to another trade, or to
+any but his own peculiar branch of the business. The powers of
+the mind are often partially cultivated in these self-taught geniuses.
+We often see that one part of their understanding is nourished to the
+prejudice of the rest&mdash;the imagination, for instance, at the expense
+of the judgment: so that whilst they have acquired talents for show
+they have none for use. In the affairs of common life they are
+utterly ignorant and imbecile&mdash;or worse than imbecile. Early
+called into public notice, probably before their moral habits are formed,
+they are extolled for some play of fancy or of wit, as Bacon calls it,
+some juggler&rsquo;s trick of the intellect; they immediately take an
+aversion to plodding labour, they feel raised above their situation;
+possessed by the notion that genius exempts them not only from labour,
+but from vulgar rules of prudence, they soon disgrace themselves by
+their conduct, are deserted by their patrons, and sink into despair
+or plunge into profligacy.</p>
+
+<p>Convinced of these melancholy truths, Madame de Fleury was determined
+not to add to the number of those imprudent or ostentatious patrons,
+who sacrifice to their own amusement and vanity the future happiness
+of their favourites. Victoire&rsquo;s verses were not handed about
+in fashionable circles, nor was she called upon to recite them before
+a brilliant audience, nor was she produced in public as a prodigy; she
+was educated in private, and by slow and sure degrees, to be a good,
+useful, and happy member of society. Upon the same principles
+which decided Madame de Fleury against encouraging Victoire to be a
+poetess, she refrained from giving any of her little pupils accomplishments
+unsuited to their situation. Some had a fine ear for music, others
+showed powers of dancing; but they were taught neither dancing nor music&mdash;talents
+which in their station were more likely to be dangerous than serviceable.
+They were not intended for actresses or opera-girls, but for shop-girls,
+mantua-makers, work-women, and servants of different sorts; consequently
+they were instructed in things which would be most necessary and useful
+to young women in their rank of life. Before they were ten years
+old they could do all kinds of plain needlework, they could read and
+write well, and they were mistresses of the common rules of arithmetic.
+After this age they were practised by a writing-master in drawing out
+bills neatly, keeping accounts, and applying to every-day use their
+knowledge of arithmetic. Some were taught by a laundress to wash
+and get up fine linen and lace; others were instructed by a neighbouring
+traiteur in those culinary mysteries with which Sister Frances was unacquainted.
+In sweetmeats and confectioneries she yielded to no one; and she made
+her pupils as expert as herself. Those who were intended for ladies&rsquo;
+maids were taught mantua-making, and had lessons from Madame de Fleury&rsquo;s
+own woman in hairdressing.</p>
+
+<p>Amongst her numerous friends and acquaintances, and amongst the shopkeepers
+whom she was in the habit of employing, Madame de Fleury had means of
+placing and establishing her pupils suitably and advantageously: of
+this, both they and their parents were aware, so that there was a constant
+and great motive operating continually to induce them to exert themselves,
+and to behave well. This reasonable hope of reaping the fruits
+of their education, and of being immediately rewarded for their good
+conduct; this perception of the connection between what they are taught
+and what they are to become, is necessary to make young people assiduous;
+for want of attending to these principles many splendid establishments
+have failed to produce pupils answerable to the expectations which had
+been formed of them.</p>
+
+<p>During seven years that Madame de Fleury persevered uniformly on
+the same plan, only one girl forfeited her protection&mdash;a girl of
+the name of Manon; she was Victoire&rsquo;s cousin, but totally unlike
+her in character.</p>
+
+<p>When very young, her beautiful eyes and hair caught the fancy of
+a rich lady, who took her into her family as a sort of humble playfellow
+for her children. She was taught to dance and to sing: she soon
+excelled in these accomplishments, and was admired, and produced as
+a prodigy of talent. The lady of the house gave herself great
+credit for having discerned, and having brought forward, such talents.
+Manon&rsquo;s moral character was in the meantime neglected. In
+this house, where there was a constant scene of hurry and dissipation,
+the child had frequent opportunities and temptations to be dishonest.
+For some time she was not detected; her caressing manners pleased her
+patroness, and servile compliance with the humours of the children of
+the family secured their goodwill. Encouraged by daily petty successes
+in the art of deceit, she became a complete hypocrite. With culpable
+negligence, her mistress trusted implicitly to appearances; and without
+examining whether she were really honest, she suffered her to have free
+access to unlocked drawers and valuable cabinets. Several articles
+of dress were missed from time to time; but Manon managed so artfully,
+that she averted from herself all suspicion. Emboldened by this
+fatal impunity, she at last attempted depredations of more importance.
+She purloined a valuable snuff-box&mdash;was detected in disposing of
+the broken parts of it at a pawnbroker&rsquo;s, and was immediately
+discarded in disgrace; but by her tears and vehement expressions of
+remorse she so far worked upon the weakness of the lady of the house
+as to prevail upon her to conceal the circumstance that occasioned her
+dismissal. Some months afterwards, Manon, pleading that she was
+thoroughly reformed, obtained from this lady a recommendation to Madame
+de Fleury&rsquo;s school. It is wonderful that, people, who in
+other respects profess and practise integrity, can be so culpably weak
+as to give good characters to those who do not deserve them: this is
+really one of the worst species of forgery. Imposed upon by this
+treacherous recommendation, Madame de Fleury received into the midst
+of her innocent young pupils one who might have corrupted their minds
+secretly and irrecoverably. Fortunately a discovery was made in
+time of Manon&rsquo;s real disposition. A mere trifle led to the
+detection of her habits of falsehood. As she could not do any
+kind of needlework, she was employed in winding cotton; she was negligent,
+and did not in the course of the week wind the same number of balls
+as her companions; and to conceal this, she pretended that she had delivered
+the proper number to the woman, who regularly called at the end of the
+week for the cotton. The woman persisted in her account, and the
+children in theirs; and Manon would not retract her assertion.
+The poor woman gave up the point; but she declared that she would the
+next time send her brother to make up the account, because he was sharper
+than herself, and would not be imposed upon so easily. The ensuing
+week the brother came, and he proved to be the very pawnbroker to whom
+Manon formerly offered the stolen box: he knew her immediately; it was
+in vain that she attempted to puzzle him, and to persuade him that she
+was not the same person. The man was clear and firm. Sister
+Frances could scarcely believe what she heard. Struck with horror,
+the children shrank back from Manon, and stood in silence. Madame
+de Fleury immediately wrote to the lady who had recommended this girl,
+and inquired into the truth of the pawnbroker&rsquo;s assertions.
+The lady, who had given Manon a false character, could not deny the
+facts, and could apologise for herself only by saying that &ldquo;she
+believed the girl to be partly reformed, and that she hoped, under Madame
+de Fleury&rsquo;s judicious care, she would become an amiable and respectable
+woman.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Madame de Fleury, however, wisely judged that the hazard of corrupting
+all her pupils should not be incurred for the slight chance of correcting
+one, whose bad habits were of such long standing. Manon was expelled
+from this happy little community&mdash;even Sister Frances, the most
+mild of human beings, could never think of the danger to which they
+had been exposed without expressing indignation against the lady who
+recommended such a girl as a fit companion for her blameless and beloved
+pupils.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER VII</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;Alas! regardless of their doom,<br />
+The little victims play:<br />
+No sense have they of ills to come,<br />
+No care beyond to-day.&rdquo;&mdash;GRAY.</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>Good legislators always attend to the habits, and what is called
+the genius, of the people they have to govern. From youth to age,
+the taste for whatever is called <i>une f&ecirc;te</i> pervades the
+whole French nation. Madame de Fleury availed herself judiciously
+of this powerful motive, and connected it with the feelings of affection
+more than with the passion for show. For instance, when any of
+her little people had done anything particularly worthy of reward, she
+gave them leave to invite their parents to a <i>f&ecirc;te</i> prepared
+for them by their children, assisted by the kindness of Sister Frances.</p>
+
+<p>One day&mdash;it was a holiday obtained by Victoire&rsquo;s good
+conduct&mdash;all the children prepared in their garden a little feast
+for their parents. Sister Frances spread the table with a bountiful
+hand, the happy fathers and mothers were waited upon by their children,
+and each in their turn heard with delight from the benevolent nun some
+instance of their daughter&rsquo;s improvement. Full of hope for
+the future and of gratitude for the past, these honest people ate and
+talked, whilst in imagination they saw their children all prosperously
+and usefully settled in the world. They blessed Madame de Fleury
+in her absence, and they wished ardently for her presence.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The sun is setting, and Madame de Fleury is not yet come,&rdquo;
+cried Victoire; &ldquo;she said she would be here this evening&mdash;What
+can be the matter?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing is the matter, you may be sure,&rdquo; said Babet;
+&ldquo;but that she has forgotten us&mdash;she has so many things to
+think of.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes; but I know she never forgets us,&rdquo; said Victoire;
+&ldquo;and she loves so much to see us all happy together, that I am
+sure it must be something very extraordinary that detains her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Babet laughed at Victoire&rsquo;s fears; but presently even she began
+to grow impatient; for they waited long after sunset, expecting every
+moment that Madame de Fleury would arrive. At last she appeared,
+but with a dejected countenance, which seemed to justify Victoire&rsquo;s
+foreboding. When she saw this festive company, each child sitting
+between her parents, and all at her entrance looking up with affectionate
+pleasure, a faint smile enlivened her countenance for a moment; but
+she did not speak to them with her usual ease. Her mind seemed
+preoccupied by some disagreeable business of importance. It appeared
+that it had some connection with them; for as she walked round the table
+with Sister Frances, she said, with a voice and look of great tenderness,
+&ldquo;Poor children! how happy they are at this moment!&mdash;Heaven
+only knows how soon they may be rendered, or may render themselves,
+miserable!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>None of the children could imagine what this meant; but their parents
+guessed that it had some allusion to the state of public affairs.
+About this time some of those discontents had broken out which preceded
+the terrible days of the Revolution. As yet, most of the common
+people, who were honestly employed in earning their own living, neither
+understood what was going on nor foresaw what was to happen. Many
+of their superiors were not in such happy ignorance&mdash;they had information
+of the intrigues that were forming; and the more penetration they possessed,
+the more they feared the consequences of events which they could not
+control. At the house of a great man, with whom she had dined
+this day, Madame de Fleury had heard alarming news. Dreadful public
+disturbances, she saw, were inevitable; and whilst she trembled for
+the fate of all who were dear to her, these poor children had a share
+in her anxiety. She foresaw the temptations, the dangers, to which
+they must be exposed, whether they abandoned, or whether they abided
+by the principles their education had instilled. She feared that
+the labour of years would perhaps be lost in an instant, or that her
+innocent pupils would fall victims even to their virtues.</p>
+
+<p>Many of these young people were now of an age to understand and to
+govern themselves by reason; and with these she determined to use those
+preventive measures which reason affords. Without meddling with
+politics, in which no amiable or sensible woman can wish to interfere,
+the influence of ladies in the higher ranks of life may always be exerted
+with perfect propriety, and with essential advantage to the public,
+in conciliating the inferior classes of society, explaining to them
+their duties and their interests, and impressing upon the minds of the
+children of the poor sentiments of just subordination and honest independence.
+How happy would it have been for France if women of fortune and abilities
+had always exerted their talents and activity in this manner, instead
+of wasting their powers in futile declamations, or in the intrigues
+of party!</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER VIII</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;E&rsquo;en now the devastation is begun,<br />
+And half the business of destruction done.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>GOLDSMITH.</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>Madame de Fleury was not disappointed in her pupils. When the
+public disturbances began, these children were shocked by the horrible
+actions they saw. Instead of being seduced by bad example, they
+only showed anxiety to avoid companions of their own age who were dishonest,
+idle, or profligate. Victoire&rsquo;s cousin Manon ridiculed these
+absurd principles, as she called them, and endeavoured to persuade Victoire
+that she would be much happier if she followed the fashion.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What! Victoire, still with your work-bag on your arm,
+and still going to school with your little sister, though you are but
+a year younger than I am, I believe!&mdash;thirteen last birthday, were
+not you?&mdash;Mon Dieu! Why, how long do you intend to be a child?
+and why don&rsquo;t you leave that old nun, who keeps you in leading-strings?&mdash;I
+assure you, nuns, and school-mistresses, and schools, and all that sort
+of thing, are out of fashion now&mdash;we have abolished all that&mdash;we
+are to live a life of reason now&mdash;and all soon to be equal, I can
+tell you; let your Madame de Fleury look to that, and look to it yourself;
+for with all your wisdom, you might find yourself in the wrong box by
+sticking to her, and that side of the question.&mdash;Disengage yourself
+from her, I advise you, as soon as you can.&mdash;My dear Victoire!
+believe me, you may spell very well&mdash;but you know nothing of the
+rights of man, or the rights of woman.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I do not pretend to know anything of the rights of men, or
+the rights of women,&rdquo; cried Victoire; &ldquo;but this I know:
+that I never can or will be ungrateful to Madame de Fleury. Disengage
+myself from her! I am bound to her for ever, and I will abide
+by her till the last hour I breathe.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, well! there is no occasion to be in a passion&mdash;I
+only speak as a friend, and I have no more time to reason with you;
+for I must go home, and get ready my dress for the ball to-night.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Manon, how can you afford to buy a dress for a ball?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;As you might, if you had common sense, Victoire&mdash;only
+by being a good citizen. I and a party of us denounced a milliner
+and a confectioner in our neighbourhood, who were horrible aristocrats;
+and of their goods forfeited to the nation we had, as was our just share,
+such delicious <i>marangues</i> and charming ribands!&mdash;Oh, Victoire,
+believe me, you will never get such things by going to school, or saying
+your prayers either. You may look with as much scorn and indignation
+as you please, but I advise you to let it alone, for all that is out
+of fashion, and may, moreover, bring you into difficulties. Believe
+me, my dear Victoire, your head is not deep enough to understand these
+things&mdash;you know nothing of politics.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But I know the difference between right and wrong, Manon:
+politics can never alter that, you know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never alter that! there you are quite mistaken,&rdquo; said
+Manon. &ldquo;I cannot stay to convince you now&mdash;but this
+I can tell you: that I know secrets that you don&rsquo;t suspect.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I do not wish to know any of your secrets, Manon,&rdquo; said
+Victoire, proudly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your pride may be humbled, Citoyenne Victoire, sooner than
+you expect,&rdquo; exclaimed Manon, who was now so provoked by her cousin&rsquo;s
+contempt that she could not refrain from boasting of her political knowledge.
+&ldquo;I can tell you that your fine friends will in a few days not
+be able to protect you. The Abbé Tracassier is in love
+with a dear friend of mine, and I know all the secrets of state from
+her&mdash;and I know what I know. Be as incredulous as you please,
+but you will see that, before this week is at end, Monsieur de Fleury
+will be guillotined, and then what will become of you? Good morning,
+my proud cousin.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Shocked by what she had just heard, Victoire could scarcely believe
+that Manon was in earnest; she resolved, however, to go immediately
+and communicate this intelligence, whether true or false, to Madame
+de Fleury. It agreed but too well with other circumstances, which
+alarmed this lady for the safety of her husband. A man of his
+abilities, integrity, and fortune, could not in such times hope to escape
+persecution. He was inclined to brave the danger; but his lady
+represented that it would not be courage, but rashness and folly, to
+sacrifice his life to the villainy of others, without probability or
+possibility of serving his country by his fall.</p>
+
+<p>Monsieur de Fleury, in consequence of these representations, and
+of Victoire&rsquo;s intelligence, made his escape from Paris; and the
+very next day placards were put up in every street, offering a price
+for the head of Citoyen Fleury, <i>suspected of incivisme</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Struck with terror and astonishment at the sight of these placards,
+the children read them as they returned in the evening from school;
+and little Babet in the vehemence of her indignation mounted a lamplighter&rsquo;s
+ladder, and tore down one of the papers. This imprudent action
+did not pass unobserved: it was seen by one of the spies of Citoyen
+Tracassier, a man who, under the pretence of zeal <i>pour la chose publique</i>,
+gratified without scruple his private resentments and his malevolent
+passions. In his former character of an abbé, and a man
+of wit, he had gained admittance into Madame de Fleury&rsquo;s society.
+There he attempted to dictate both as a literary and religious despot.
+Accidentally discovering that Madame de Fleury had a little school for
+poor children, he thought proper to be offended, because he had not
+been consulted respecting the regulations, and because he was not permitted,
+as he said, to take the charge of this little flock. He made many
+objections to Sister Frances, as being an improper person to have the
+spiritual guidance of these young people; but as he was unable to give
+any just reason for his dislike, Madame de Fleury persisted in her choice,
+and was at last obliged to assert, in opposition to the domineering
+abbé, her right to judge and decide in her own affairs.
+With seeming politeness, he begged ten thousand pardons for his conscientious
+interference. No more was said upon the subject; and as he did
+not totally withdraw from her society till the revolution broke out,
+she did not suspect that she had anything to fear from his resentment.
+His manners and opinions changed suddenly with the times; the mask of
+religion was thrown off; and now, instead of objecting to Sister Frances
+as not being sufficiently strict and orthodox in her tenets, he boldly
+declared that a nun was not a fit person to be intrusted with the education
+of any of the young citizens&mdash;they should all be <i>des élèves
+de la patrie</i>. The abbé, become a member of the Committee
+of Public Safety, denounced Madame de Fleury, in the strange jargon
+of the day, as &ldquo;<i>the fosterer of a swarm of bad citizens, who
+were nourished in the anticivic prejudices</i> de l&rsquo;ancien régime,
+<i>and fostered in the most detestable superstitions, in defiance of
+the law</i>.&rdquo; He further observed, that he had good reason
+to believe that some of these little enemies to the constitution had
+contrived and abetted Monsieur de Fleury&rsquo;s escape. Of their
+having rejoiced at it in a most indecent manner, he said he could produce
+irrefragable proof. The boy who saw Babet tear down the placard
+was produced and solemnly examined; and the thoughtless action of this
+poor little girl was construed into a state crime of the most horrible
+nature. In a declamatory tone, Tracassier reminded his fellow-citizens,
+that in the ancient Grecian times of virtuous republicanism (times of
+which France ought to show herself emulous), an Athenian child was condemned
+to death for having made a plaything of a fragment of the gilding that
+had fallen from a public statue. The orator, for the reward of
+his eloquence, obtained an order to seize everything in Madame de Fleury&rsquo;s
+school-house, and to throw the nun into prison.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER IX</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;Who now will guard bewildered youth<br />
+Safe from the fierce assault of hostile rage?&mdash;<br />
+Such war can Virtue wage?&rdquo;</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>At the very moment when this order was going to be put in execution,
+Madame de Fleury was sitting in the midst of the children, listening
+to Babet, who was reading Æsop&rsquo;s fable of <i>The old man
+and his sons</i>. Whilst her sister was reading, Victoire collected
+a number of twigs from the garden: she had just tied them together;
+and was going, by Sister Frances&rsquo; desire, to let her companions
+try if they could break the bundle, when the attention to the moral
+of the fable was interrupted by the entrance of an old woman, whose
+countenance expressed the utmost terror and haste, to tell what she
+had not breath to utter. To Madame de Fleury she was a stranger;
+but the children immediately recollected her to be the chestnut woman
+to whom Babet had some years ago restored certain purloined chestnuts.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Fly!&rdquo; said she, the moment she had breath to speak:
+&ldquo;Fly!&mdash;they are coming to seize everything here&mdash;carry
+off what you can&mdash;make haste&mdash;make haste!&mdash;I came through
+a by-street. A man was eating chestnuts at my stall, and I saw
+him show one that was with him the order from Citoyen Tracassier.
+They&rsquo;ll be here in five minutes&mdash;quick!&mdash;quick!&mdash;You,
+in particular,&rdquo; continued she, turning to the nun, &ldquo;else
+you&rsquo;ll be in prison.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At these words, the children, who had clung round Sister Frances,
+loosed their hold, exclaiming, &ldquo;Go! go quick: but where? where?&mdash;we
+will go with her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, no!&rdquo; said Madame de Fleury, &ldquo;she shall come
+home with me&mdash;my carriage is at the door.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ma belle dame!&rdquo; cried the chestnut woman, &ldquo;your
+house is the worst place she can go to&mdash;let her come to my cellar&mdash;the
+poorest cellar in these days is safer than the grandest palace.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So saying, she seized the nun with honest roughness, and hurried
+her away. As soon as she was gone, the children ran different
+ways, each to collect some favourite thing, which they thought they
+could not leave behind. Victoire alone stood motionless beside
+Madame de Fleury; her whole thoughts absorbed by the fear that her benefactress
+would be imprisoned. &ldquo;Oh, madame! dear, dear Madame de Fleury,
+don&rsquo;t stay! don&rsquo;t stay!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, children, never mind these things.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t stay, madame, don&rsquo;t stay! I will stay
+with them&mdash;I will stay&mdash;do you go.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The children hearing these words, and recollecting Madame de Fleury&rsquo;s
+danger, abandoned all their little property, and instantly obeyed her
+orders to go home to their parents. Victoire at last saw Madame
+de Fleury safe in her carriage. The coachman drove off at a great
+rate; and a few minutes afterwards Tracassier&rsquo;s myrmidons arrived
+at the school-house. Great was their surprise when they found
+only the poor children&rsquo;s little books, unfinished samplers, and
+half-hemmed handkerchiefs. They ran into the garden to search
+for the nun. They were men of brutal habits, yet as they looked
+at everything round them, which bespoke peace, innocence, and childish
+happiness, they could not help thinking it was a pity to destroy what
+could do the nation no great harm after all. They were even glad
+that the nun had made her escape, since they were not answerable for
+it; and they returned to their employer satisfied for once without doing
+any mischief; but Citizen Tracassier was of too vindictive a temper
+to suffer the objects of his hatred thus to elude his vengeance.
+The next day Madame de Fleury was summoned before his tribunal and ordered
+to give up the nun, against whom, as a suspected person, a decree of
+the law had been obtained.</p>
+
+<p>Madame de Fleury refused to betray the innocent woman; the gentle
+firmness of this lady&rsquo;s answers to a brutal interrogatory was
+termed insolence&mdash;she was pronounced a refractory aristocrat, dangerous
+to the state; and an order was made out to seal up her goods, and to
+keep her a prisoner in her own house.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER X</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;Alas! full oft on Guilt&rsquo;s victorious car<br />
+The spoils of Virtue are in triumph borne,<br />
+While the fair captive, marked with many a scar,<br />
+In lone obscurity, oppressed, forlorn,<br />
+Resigns to tears her angel form.&rdquo;&mdash;BEATTIE.</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>A close prisoner in her own house, Madame de Fleury was now guarded
+by men suddenly become soldiers, and sprung from the dregs of the people;
+men of brutal manners, ferocious countenances, and more ferocious minds.
+They seemed to delight in the insolent display of their newly-acquired
+power. One of those men had formerly been convicted of some horrible
+crime, and had been sent to the galleys by M. de Fleury. Revenge
+actuated this wretch under the mask of patriotism, and he rejoiced in
+seeing the wife of the man he hated a prisoner in his custody.
+Ignorant of the facts, his associates were ready to believe him in the
+right, and to join in the senseless cry against all who were their superiors
+in fortune, birth, and education. This unfortunate lady was forbidden
+all intercourse with her friends, and it was in vain she attempted to
+obtain from her gaolers intelligence of what was passing in Paris.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tu verras&mdash;Tout va bien&mdash;&Ccedil;a ira,&rdquo; were
+the only answers they deigned to make; frequently they continued smoking
+their pipes in obdurate silence. She occupied the back rooms of
+her house, because her guards apprehended that she might from the front
+windows receive intelligence from her friends. One morning she
+was awakened by an unusual noise in the streets; and, upon her inquiring
+the occasion of it, her guards told her she was welcome to go to the
+front windows and satisfy her curiosity. She went, and saw an
+immense crowd of people surrounding a guillotine that had been erected
+the preceding night. Madame de Fleury started back with horror&mdash;her
+guards burst into an inhuman laugh, and asked whether her curiosity
+was satisfied. She would have left the room; but it was now their
+pleasure to detain her, and to force her to continue the whole day in
+this apartment. When the guillotine began its work, they had even
+the barbarity to drag her to the window, repeating, &ldquo;It is there
+you ought to be!&mdash;It is there your husband ought to be!&mdash;You
+are too happy, that your husband is not there this moment. But
+he will be there&mdash;the law will overtake him&mdash;he will be there
+in time&mdash;and you too!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The mild fortitude of this innocent, benevolent woman made no impression
+upon these cruel men. When at night they saw her kneeling at her
+prayers, they taunted her with gross and impious mockery; and when she
+sank to sleep, they would waken her by their loud and drunken orgies&mdash;if
+she remonstrated, they answered, &ldquo;The enemies of the constitution
+should have no rest.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Madame de Fleury was not an enemy to any human being; she had never
+interfered in politics; her life had been passed in domestic pleasures,
+or employed for the good of her fellow-creatures. Even in this
+hour of personal danger she thought of others more than of herself:
+she thought of her husband, an exile in a foreign country, who might
+be reduced to the utmost distress now that she was deprived of all means
+of remitting him money. She thought of her friends, who, she knew,
+would exert themselves to obtain her liberty, and whose zeal in her
+cause might involve them and their families in distress. She thought
+of the good Sister Frances, who had been exposed by her means to the
+unrelenting persecution of the malignant and powerful Tracassier.
+She thought of her poor little pupils, now thrown upon the world without
+a protector. Whilst these ideas were revolving in her mind one
+night as she lay awake, she heard the door of her chamber open softly,
+and a soldier, one of her guards, with a light in his hand, entered;
+he came to the foot of her bed, and, as she started up, laid his finger
+upon his lips.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t make the least noise,&rdquo; said he in a whisper;
+&ldquo;those without are drunk, and asleep. Don&rsquo;t you know
+me?&mdash;don&rsquo;t you remember my face?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not in the least; yet I have some recollection of your voice.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The man took off the bonnet-rouge&mdash;still she could not guess
+who he was. &ldquo;You never saw me in a uniform before nor without
+a black face.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She looked again, and recollected the smith to whom Maurice was bound
+apprentice, and remembered his <i>patois</i> accent.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I remember you,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;at any rate; and your
+goodness to that poor girl the day her arm was broken, and all your
+goodness to Maurice. But I&rsquo;ve no time for talking of that
+now&mdash;get up, wrap this great coat round you&mdash;don&rsquo;t be
+in a hurry, but make no noise&mdash;and follow me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She followed him; and he led her past the sleeping sentinels, opened
+a back door into the garden, hurried her (almost carried her) across
+the garden to a door at the furthest end of it, which opened into Les
+Champs Elysées&mdash;&ldquo;La voil&agrave;!&rdquo; cried he,
+pushing her through the half-opened door. &ldquo;God be praised!&rdquo;
+answered a voice, which Madame de Fleury knew to be Victoire&rsquo;s,
+whose arms were thrown round her with a transport of joy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Softly; she is not safe yet&mdash;wait till we get her home,
+Victoire,&rdquo; said another voice, which she knew to be that of Maurice.
+He produced a dark lantern, and guided Madame de Fleury across the Champs
+Elysées, and across the bridge, and then through various by-streets,
+in perfect silence, till they arrived safely at the house where Victoire&rsquo;s
+mother lodged, and went up those very stairs which she had ascended
+in such different circumstances several years before. The mother,
+who was sitting up waiting most anxiously for the return of her children,
+clasped her hands in an ecstasy when she saw them return with Madame
+de Fleury.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Welcome, madame! Welcome, dear madame! but who would
+have thought of seeing you here in such a way? Let her rest herself&mdash;let
+her rest; she is quite overcome. Here, madame, can you sleep on
+this poor bed?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The very same bed you laid me upon the day my arm was broken,&rdquo;
+said Victoire.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ay, Lord bless her!&rdquo; said the mother; &ldquo;and though
+it&rsquo;s seven good years ago, it seemed but yesterday that I saw
+her sitting on that bed beside my poor child looking like an angel.
+But let her rest, let her rest&mdash;we&rsquo;ll not say a word more,
+only God bless her; thank Heaven, she&rsquo;s safe with us at last!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Madame de Fleury expressed unwillingness to stay with these good
+people, lest she should expose them to danger; but they begged most
+earnestly that she would remain with them without scruple.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Surely, madame,&rdquo; said the mother, &ldquo;you must think
+that we have some remembrance of all you have done for us, and some
+touch of gratitude.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And surely, madame, you can trust us, I hope,&rdquo; said
+Maurice.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And surely you are not too proud to let us do something for
+you. The lion was not too proud to be served by the poor little
+mouse,&rdquo; said Victoire. &ldquo;As to danger for us,&rdquo;
+continued she, &ldquo;there can be none; for Maurice and I have contrived
+a hiding-place for you, madame, that can never be found out&mdash;let
+them come spying here as often as they please, they will never find
+her out, will they, Maurice? Look, madame, into this lumber-room;
+you see it seems to be quite full of wood for firing; well, if you creep
+in behind, you can hide yourself quite snug in the loft above, and here&rsquo;s
+a trap-door into the loft that nobody ever would think of, for we have
+hung these old things from the top of it, and who could guess it was
+a trap-door? So you see, dear madame, you may sleep in peace here,
+and never fear for us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Though but a girl of fourteen, Victoire showed at this time all the
+sense and prudence of a woman of thirty. Gratitude seemed at once
+to develop all the powers of her mind. It was she and Maurice
+who had prevailed upon the smith to effect Madame de Fleury&rsquo;s
+escape from her own house. She had invented, she had foreseen,
+she had arranged everything; she had scarcely rested night or day since
+the imprisonment of her benefactress, and now that her exertions had
+fully succeeded, her joy seemed to raise her above all feeling of fatigue;
+she looked as fresh and moved as briskly, her mother said, as if she
+were preparing to go to a ball.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah! my child,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;your cousin Manon, who
+goes to those balls every night, was never so happy as you are this
+minute.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Victoire&rsquo;s happiness was not of long continuance; for the
+next day they were alarmed by intelligence that Tracassier was enraged
+beyond measure at Madame de Fleury&rsquo;s escape, that all his emissaries
+were at work to discover her present hiding-place, that the houses of
+all the parents and relations of her pupils were to be searched, and
+that the most severe denunciations were issued against all by whom she
+should be harboured. Manon was the person who gave this intelligence,
+but not with any benevolent design; she first came to Victoire, to display
+her own consequence; and to terrify her, she related all she knew from
+a soldier&rsquo;s wife, who was M. Tracassier&rsquo;s mistress.
+Victoire had sufficient command over herself to conceal from the inquisitive
+eyes of Manon the agitation of her heart; she had also the prudence
+not to let any one of her companions into her secret, though, when she
+saw their anxiety, she was much tempted to relieve them, by the assurance
+that Madame de Fleury was in safety. All the day was passed in
+apprehension. Madame de Fleury never stirred from her place of
+concealment: as the evening and the hour of the domiciliary visits approached,
+Victoire and Maurice were alarmed by an unforeseen difficulty.
+Their mother, whose health had been broken by hard work, in vain endeavoured
+to suppress her terror at the thoughts of this domiciliary visit; she
+repeated incessantly that she knew they should all be discovered, and
+that her children would be dragged to the guillotine before her face.
+She was in such a distracted state, that they dreaded she would, the
+moment she saw the soldiers, reveal all she knew.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If they question me, I shall not know what to answer,&rdquo;
+cried the terrified woman. &ldquo;What can I say?&mdash;What can
+I do?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Reasoning, entreaties, all were vain; she was not in a condition
+to understand, or even to listen to, anything that was said. In
+this situation they were when the domiciliary visitors arrived&mdash;they
+heard the noise of the soldiers&rsquo; feet on the stairs&mdash;the
+poor woman sprang from the arms of her children; but at the moment the
+door was opened, and she saw the glittering of the bayonets, she fell
+at full length in a swoon on the floor&mdash;fortunately before she
+had power to utter a syllable. The people of the house knew, and
+said, that she was subject to fits on any sudden alarm; so that her
+being affected in this manner did not appear surprising. They
+threw her on a bed, whilst they proceeded to search the house: her children
+stayed with her; and, wholly occupied in attending to her, they were
+not exposed to the danger of betraying their anxiety about Madame de
+Fleury. They trembled, however, from head to foot when they heard
+one of the soldiers swear that all the wood in the lumber-room must
+be pulled out, and that he would not leave the house till every stick
+was moved; the sound of each log, as it was thrown out, was heard by
+Victoire; her brother was now summoned to assist. How great was
+his terror when one of the searchers looked up to the roof, as if expecting
+to find a trap door; fortunately, however, he did not discover it.
+Maurice, who had seized the light, contrived to throw the shadows so
+as to deceive the eye. The soldiers at length retreated; and with
+inexpressible satisfaction Maurice lighted them down stairs, and saw
+them fairly out of the house. For some minutes after they were
+in safety, the terrified mother, who had recovered her senses, could
+scarcely believe that the danger was over. She embraced her children
+by turns with wild transport; and with tears begged Madame de Fleury
+to forgive her cowardice, and not to attribute it to ingratitude, or
+to suspect that she had a bad heart. She protested that she was
+now become so courageous, since she found that she had gone through
+this trial successfully, and since she was sure that the hiding-place
+was really so secure, that she should never be alarmed at any domiciliary
+visit in future. Madame de Fleury, however, did not think it either
+just or expedient to put her resolution to the trial. She determined
+to leave Paris; and, if possible, to make her escape from France.
+The master of one of the Paris diligences was brother to François,
+her footman: he was ready to assist her at all hazards, and to convey
+her safely to Bourdeaux, if she could disguise herself properly; and
+if she could obtain a pass from any friend under a feigned name.</p>
+
+<p>Victoire&mdash;the indefatigable Victoire&mdash;recollected that
+her friend Annette had an aunt, who was nearly of Madame de Fleury&rsquo;s
+size, and who had just obtained a pass to go to Bourdeaux, to visit
+some of her relations. The pass was willingly given up to Madame
+de Fleury; and upon reading it over it was found to answer tolerably
+well&mdash;the colour of the eyes and hair at least would do; though
+the words <i>un nez gros</i> were not precisely descriptive of this
+lady&rsquo;s. Annette&rsquo;s mother, who had always worn the
+provincial dress of Auvergne, furnished the high <i>cornette</i>, stiff
+stays, bodice, &amp;c.; and equipped in these, Madame de Fleury was
+so admirably well disguised, that even Victoire declared she should
+scarcely have known her. Money, that most necessary passport in
+all countries, was still wanting: as seals had been put upon all Madame
+de Fleury&rsquo;s effects the day she had been first imprisoned in her
+own house, she could not save even her jewels. She had, however,
+one ring on her finger of some value. How to dispose of it without
+exciting suspicion was the difficulty. Babet, who was resolved
+to have her share in assisting her benefactress, proposed to carry the
+ring to a <i>colporteur</i>&mdash;a pedlar, or sort of travelling jeweller&mdash;who
+had come to lay in a stock of hardware at Paris: he was related to one
+of Madame de Fleury&rsquo;s little pupils, and readily disposed of the
+ring for her: she obtained at least two-thirds of its value&mdash;a
+great deal in those times.</p>
+
+<p>The proofs of integrity, attachment, and gratitude which she received
+in these days of peril, from those whom she had obliged in her prosperity,
+touched her generous heart so much, that she has often since declared
+she could not regret having been reduced to distress. Before she
+quitted Paris she wrote letters to her friends, recommending her pupils
+to their protection; she left these letters in the care of Victoire,
+who to the last moment followed her with anxious affection. She
+would have followed her benefactress into exile, but that she was prevented
+by duty and affection from leaving her mother, who was in declining
+health.</p>
+
+<p>Madame de Fleury successfully made her escape from Paris. Some
+of the municipal officers in the towns through which she passed on her
+road were as severe as their ignorance would permit in scrutinising
+her passport. It seldom happened that more than one of these petty
+committees of public safety could read. One usually spelled out
+the passport as well as he could, whilst the others smoked their pipes,
+and from time to time held a light up to the lady&rsquo;s face to examine
+whether it agreed with the description.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mais toi! tu n&rsquo;as pas le nez gros!&rdquo; said one of
+her judges to her. &ldquo;Son nez est assez gros, et c&rsquo;est
+moi qui le dit,&rdquo; said another. The question was put to the
+vote; and the man who had asserted what was contrary to the evidence
+of his senses was so vehement in supporting his opinion, that it was
+carried in spite of all that could be said against it. Madame
+de Fleury was suffered to proceed on her journey. She reached
+Bordeaux in safety. Her husband&rsquo;s friends&mdash;the good
+have always friends in adversity&mdash;her husband&rsquo;s friends exerted
+themselves for her with the most prudent zeal. She was soon provided
+with a sum of money sufficient for her support for some time in England;
+and she safely reached that free and happy country, which has been the
+refuge of so many illustrious exiles.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER XI</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;Cosi rozzo diamante appena splende<br />
+Dalla rupe natia quand&rsquo; esce fuora,<br />
+E a poco a poco lucido se rende<br />
+Sotto l&rsquo;attenta che lo lavora.&rdquo;</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>Madame de Fleury joined her husband, who was in London, and they
+both lived in the most retired and frugal manner. They had too
+much of the pride of independence to become burthensome to their generous
+English friends. Notwithstanding the variety of difficulties they
+had to encounter, and the number of daily privations to which they were
+forced to submit, yet they were happy&mdash;in a tranquil conscience,
+in their mutual affection, and the attachment of many poor but grateful
+friends. A few months after she came to England, Madame de Fleury
+received, by a private hand, a packet of letters from her little pupils.
+Each of them, even the youngest, who had but just begun to learn joining-hand,
+would write a few lines in this packet.</p>
+
+<p>In various hands, of various sizes, the changes were rung upon these
+simple words:&mdash;</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;MY DEAR MADAME DE FLEURY,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I love you&mdash;I wish you were here again&mdash;I will be
+<i>very very</i> good whilst you are away. If you stay away ever
+so long, I shall never forget you, nor your goodness; but I hope you
+will soon be able to come back, and this is what I pray for every night.
+Sister Frances says I may tell you that I am very good, and Victoire
+thinks so too.&rdquo;</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>This was the substance of several of their little letters.
+Victoire&rsquo;s contained rather more information:&mdash;</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;You will be glad to learn that dear Sister Frances
+is safe, and that the good chestnut-woman, in whose cellar she took
+refuge, did not get into any difficulty. After you were gone,
+M. T--- said that he did not think it worth while to pursue her, as
+it was only you he wanted to humble. Manon, who has, I do not
+know how, means of knowing, told me this. Sister Frances is now
+with her abbess, who, as well as everybody else that knows her, is very
+fond of her. What was a convent is no longer a convent&mdash;the
+nuns are turned out of it. Sister Frances&rsquo; health is not
+so good as it used to be, though she never complains. I am sure
+she suffers much; she has never been the same person since that day
+when we were driven from our happy schoolroom. It is all destroyed&mdash;the
+garden and everything. It is now a dismal sight. Your absence
+also afflicts Sister Frances much, and she is in great anxiety about
+all of us. She has the six little ones with her every day in her
+own apartment, and goes on teaching them as she used to do. We
+six eldest go to see her as often as we can. I should have begun,
+my dear Madame de Fleury, by telling you, that, the day after you left
+Paris, I went to deliver all the letters you were so very kind to write
+for us in the midst of your hurry. Your friends have been exceedingly
+good to us, and have got places for us all. Rose is with Madame
+la Grace, your mantua-maker, who says she is more handy and more expert
+at cutting out than girls she has had these three years. Marianne
+is in the service of Madame de V---, who has lost a great part of her
+large fortune, and cannot afford to keep her former waiting-maid.
+Madame de V--- is well pleased with Marianne, and bids me tell you that
+she thanks you for her. Indeed, Marianne, though she is only fourteen,
+can do everything her lady wants. Susanne is with a confectioner.
+She gave Sister Frances a box of <i>bonbons</i> of her own making this
+morning; and Sister Frances, who is a judge, says they are excellent&mdash;she
+only wishes you could taste them. Annette and I (thanks to your
+kindness!) are in the same service with Madame Feuillot, the <i>brodeuse</i>,
+to whom you recommended us. She is not discontented with our work,
+and, indeed, sent a very civil message yesterday to Sister Frances on
+this subject; but believe it is too flattering for me to repeat in this
+letter. We shall do our best to give her satisfaction. She
+is glad to find that we can write tolerably, and that we can make out
+bills and keep accounts, this being particularly convenient to her at
+present, as the young man she had in the shop is become an orator, and
+good for nothing but <i>la chose publique</i>; her son, who could have
+supplied his place, is ill; and Madame Feuillot herself, not having
+had, as she says, the advantage of such a good education as we have
+been blessed with, writes but badly, and knows nothing of arithmetic.
+Dear Madame de Fleury, how much, how very much we are obliged to you!
+We feel it every day more and more; in these times what would have become
+of us if we could do nothing useful? Who would, who could be burdened
+with us? Dear madame, we owe everything to you&mdash;and we can
+do nothing, not the least thing for you! My mother is still in
+bad health, and I fear will never recover; Babet is with her always,
+and Sister Frances is very good to her. My brother Maurice is
+now so good a workman that he earns a louis a week. He is very
+steady to his business, and never goes to the revolutionary meetings,
+though once he had a great mind to be an orator of the people, but never
+since the day that you explained to him that he knew nothing about equality
+and the rights of men, &amp;c. How could I forget to tell you,
+that his master the smith, who was one of your guards, and who assisted
+you to escape, has returned without suspicion to his former trade? and
+he declares that he will never more meddle with public affairs.
+I gave him the money you left with me for him. He is very kind
+to my brother. Yesterday Maurice mended for Annette&rsquo;s mistress
+the lock of an English writing-desk, and he mended it so astonishingly
+well, that an English gentleman, who saw it, could not believe the work
+was done by a Frenchman; so my brother was sent for, to prove it, and
+they were forced to believe it. To-day he has more work than he
+can finish this twelve-month&mdash;all this we owe to you. I shall
+never forget the day when you promised that you would grant my brother&rsquo;s
+wish to be apprenticed to the smith, if I was not in a passion for a
+month; that cured me of being so passionate.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dear Madame de Fleury, I have written you too long a letter,
+and not so well as I can write when I am not in a hurry; but I wanted
+to tell you everything at once, because, may be, I shall not for a long
+time have so safe an opportunity of sending a letter to you.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;VICTOIRE.&rdquo;</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>Several months elapsed before Madame do Fleury received another letter
+from Victoire; it was short and evidently written in great distress
+of mind. It contained an account of her mother&rsquo;s death.
+She was now left at the early age of sixteen an orphan. Madame
+Feuillot, the <i>brodeuse</i>, with whom she lived, added few lines
+to her letter, penned with difficulty and strangely spelled, but, expressive
+of her being highly pleased with both the girls recommended to her by
+Madame de Fleury, especially Victoire, who she said was such a treasure
+to her, that she would not part with her on any account, and should
+consider her as a daughter. &ldquo;I tell her not to grieve so
+much; for though she has lost one mother she has gained another for
+herself, who will always love her; and besides she is so useful, and
+in so many ways, with her pen and her needle, in accounts, and everything
+that is wanted in a family or a shop; she can never want employment
+or friends in the worst times, and none can be worse than these, especially
+for such pretty girls as she is, who have all their heads turned, and
+are taught to consider nothing a sin that used to be sins. Many
+gentlemen, who come to our shop, have found out that Victoire is very
+handsome, and tell her so; but she is so modest and prudent that I am
+not afraid for her. I could tell you, madame, a good anecdote
+on this subject, but my paper will not allow, and, besides, my writing
+is so difficult.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Above a year elapsed before Madame de Fleury received another letter
+from Victoire: this was in a parcel, of which an emigrant took charge;
+it contained a variety of little offerings from her pupils, instances
+of their ingenuity, their industry, and their affection; the last thing
+in the packet was a small purse labelled in this manner&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<i>Savings from our wages and earnings for her who taught
+us all we know</i>.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER XII</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;Dans sa pompe élégante, admirez
+Chantilly,<br />
+De héros en héros, d&rsquo;&acirc;ge en &acirc;ge, embelli.&rdquo;&mdash;DE
+LILLE.</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>The health of the good Sister Frances, which had suffered much from
+the shock her mind received at the commencement of the revolution, declined
+so rapidly in the course of the two succeeding years, that she was obliged
+to leave Paris, and she retired to a little village in the neighbourhood
+of Chantilly. She chose this situation because here she was within
+a morning&rsquo;s walk of Madame de Fleury&rsquo;s country-seat.
+The Ch&acirc;teau de Fleury had not yet been seized as national property,
+nor had it suffered from the attacks of the mob, though it was in a
+perilous situation, within view of the high road to Paris. The
+Parisian populace had not yet extended their outrages to this distance
+from the city, and the poor people who lived on the estate of Fleury,
+attached from habit, principle, and gratitude, to their lord, were not
+disposed to take advantage of the disorder of the times, to injure the
+property of those from whom they had all their lives received favours
+and protection. A faithful old steward had the care of the castle
+and the grounds. Sister Frances was impatient to talk to him and
+to visit the ch&acirc;teau, which she had never seen; but for some days
+after her arrival in the village she was so much fatigued and so weak
+that she could not attempt so long a walk. Victoire had obtained
+permission from her mistress to accompany the nun for a few days to
+the country, as Annette undertook to do all the business of the shop
+during the absence of her companion. Victoire was fully as eager
+as Sister Frances to see the faithful steward and the Ch&acirc;teau
+de Fleury, and the morning was now fixed for their walk; but in the
+middle of the night they were awakened by the shouts of a mob, who had
+just entered the village fresh from the destruction of a neighbouring
+castle. The nun and Victoire listened; but in the midst of the
+horrid yells of joy no human voice, no intelligible word could be distinguished;
+they looked through a chink in the window-shutter and they saw the street
+below filled with a crowd of men, whose countenances were by turns illuminated
+by the glare of the torches which they brandished.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good Heavens!&rdquo; whispered the nun to Victoire: &ldquo;I
+should know the face of that man who is loading his musket&mdash;the
+very man whom I nursed ten years ago when he was ill with a gaol fever!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This man, who stood in the midst of the crowd, taller by the head
+than the others, seemed to be the leader of the party; they were disputing
+whether they should proceed further, spend the remainder of the night
+in the village ale-house, or return to Paris. Their leader ordered
+spirits to be distributed to his associates, and exhorted them in a
+loud voice to proceed in their glorious work. Tossing his firebrand
+over his head he declared that he would never return to Paris till he
+had razed to the ground the Ch&acirc;teau de Fleury. At these
+words, Victoire, forgetful of all personal danger, ran out into the
+midst of the mob, pressed her way up to the leader of these ruffians,
+caught him by the arm, exclaiming, &ldquo;You will not touch a stone
+in the Ch&acirc;teau de Fleury&mdash;I have my reasons&mdash;I say you
+will not suffer a stone in the Ch&acirc;teau de Fleury to be touched.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And why not?&rdquo; cried the man, turning astonished; &ldquo;and
+who are you that I should listen to you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No matter who I am,&rdquo; said Victoire; &ldquo;follow me
+and I will show you one to whom you will not refuse to listen.
+Here!&mdash;here she is,&rdquo; continued Victoire, pointing to the
+nun, who had followed her in amazement; &ldquo;here is one to whom you
+will listen&mdash;yes, look at her well: hold the light to her face.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The nun, in a supplicating attitude, stood in speechless expectation.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ay, I see you have gratitude, I know you will have mercy,&rdquo;
+cried Victoire, watching the workings in the countenance of the man;
+&ldquo;you will save the Ch&acirc;teau de Fleury for her sake&mdash;who
+saved your life.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will,&rdquo; cried this astonished chief of a mob, fired
+with sudden generosity. &ldquo;By my faith you are a brave girl,
+and a fine girl, and know how to speak to the heart, and in the right
+moment. Friends, citizens, this nun, though she is a nun, is good
+for something. When I lay ill with a fever, and not a soul else
+to help me, she came and gave me medicines and food&mdash;in short,
+I owe my life to her. &rsquo;Tis ten years ago, but I remember
+it well, and now it is our turn to rule, and she shall be paid as she
+deserves. Not a stone of the Ch&acirc;teau de Fleury shall be
+touched!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>With loud acclamations the mob joined in the generous enthusiasm
+of the moment and followed their leader peaceably out of the village.
+All this passed with such rapidity as scarcely to leave the impression
+of reality upon the mind. As soon as the sun rose in the morning
+Victoire looked out for the turrets of the Ch&acirc;teau de Fleury,
+and she saw that they were safe&mdash;safe in the midst of the surrounding
+devastation. Nothing remained of the superb palace of Chantilly
+but the white arches of its foundation.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER XIII</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;When thy last breath, ere Nature sank to rest<br />
+Thy meek submission to thy God expressed;<br />
+When thy last look, ere thought and feeling fled,<br />
+A mingled gleam of hope and triumph shed;<br />
+What to thy soul its glad assurance gave&mdash;<br />
+Its hope in death, its triumph o&rsquo;er the grave?<br />
+The sweet remembrance of unblemished youth,<br />
+Th&rsquo; inspiring voice of innocence and truth!&rdquo;&mdash;ROGERS.</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>The good Sister Frances, though she had scarcely recovered from the
+shock of the preceding night, accompanied Victoire to the Ch&acirc;teau
+de Fleury. The gates were opened for them by the old steward and
+his son Basile, who welcomed them with all the eagerness with which
+people welcome friends in time of adversity. The old man showed
+them the place; and through every apartment of the castle went on talking
+of former times, and with narrative fondness told anecdotes of his dear
+master and mistress. Here his lady used to sit and read&mdash;here
+was the table at which she wrote&mdash;this was the sofa on which she
+and the ladies sat the very last day she was at the castle, at the open
+windows of the hall, whilst all the tenants and people of the village
+were dancing on the green.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ay, those were happy times,&rdquo; said the old man; &ldquo;but
+they will never return.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never! Oh do not say so,&rdquo; cried Victoire.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never during my life, at least,&rdquo; said the nun in a low
+voice, and with a look of resignation.</p>
+
+<p>Basile, as he wiped the tears from his eyes, happened to strike his
+arm against the chord of Madame de Fleury&rsquo;s harp, and the sound
+echoed through the room.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Before this year is at an end,&rdquo; cried Victoire, &ldquo;perhaps
+that harp will be struck again in this Ch&acirc;teau by Madame de Fleury
+herself. Last night we could hardly have hoped to see these walls
+standing this morning, and yet it is safe&mdash;not a stone touched!
+Oh, we shall all live, I hope, to see better times!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Sister Frances smiled, for she would not depress Victoire&rsquo;s
+enthusiastic hope: to please her, the good nun added, that she felt
+better this morning than she had felt for months, and Victoire was happier
+than she had been since Madame de Fleury left France. But, alas!
+it was only a transient gleam. Sister Frances relapsed and declined
+so rapidly, that even Victoire, whose mind was almost always disposed
+to hope, despaired of her recovery. With placid resignation, or
+rather with mild confidence, this innocent and benevolent creature met
+the approach of death. She seemed attached to earth only by affection
+for those whom she was to leave in this world. Two of the youngest
+of the children who had formerly been placed under her care, and who
+were not yet able to earn their own subsistence, she kept with her,
+and in the last days of her life she continued her instructions to them
+with the fond solicitude of a parent. Her father confessor, an
+excellent man, who never even in these dangerous times shrank from his
+duty, came to Sister Frances in her last moments, and relieved her mind
+from all anxiety, by promising to place the two little children with
+the lady who had been abbess of her convent, who would to the utmost
+of her power protect and provide for them suitably. Satisfied
+by this promise, the good Sister Frances smiled upon Victoire, who stood
+beside her bed, and with that smile upon her countenance expired.&mdash;It
+was some time before the little children seemed to comprehend, or to
+believe, that Sister Frances was dead: they had never before seen any
+one die; they had no idea what it was to die, and their first feeling
+was astonishment; they did not seem to understand why Victoire wept.
+But the next day when no Sister Frances spoke to them, when every hour
+they missed some accustomed kindness from her,&mdash;when presently
+they saw the preparations for her funeral,&mdash;when they heard that
+she was to be buried in the earth, and that they should never see her
+more,&mdash;they could neither play nor eat, but sat in a corner holding
+each other&rsquo;s hands, and watching everything that was done for
+the dead by Victoire.</p>
+
+<p>In those times, the funeral of a nun, with a priest attending, would
+not have been permitted by the populace. It was therefore performed
+as secretly as possible: in the middle of the night the coffin was carried
+to the burial-place of the Fleury family; the old steward, his son Basile,
+Victoire, and the good father confessor, were the only persons present.
+It is necessary to mention this, because the facts were afterwards misrepresented.</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER XIV</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;The character is lost!<br />
+Her head adorned with lappets, pinned aloft,<br />
+And ribands streaming gay, superbly raised,<br />
+Indebted to some smart wig-weaver&rsquo;s hand<br />
+For more than half the tresses it sustains.&rdquo;&mdash;COWPER.</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>Upon her return to Paris, Victoire felt melancholy; but she exerted
+herself as much as possible in her usual occupation; finding that employment
+and the consciousness of doing her duty were the best remedies for sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>One day as she was busy settling Madame Feuillot&rsquo;s accounts
+a servant came into the shop and inquired for Mademoiselle Victoire:
+he presented her a note, which she found rather difficult to decipher.
+It was signed by her cousin Manon, who desired to see Victoire at her
+hotel. &ldquo;<i>Her hotel</i>!&rdquo; repeated Victoire with
+astonishment. The servant assured her that one of the finest hotels
+in Paris belonged to his lady, and that he was commissioned to show
+her the way to it. Victoire found her cousin in a magnificent
+house, which had formerly belonged to the Prince de Salms. Manon,
+dressed in the disgusting, indecent extreme of the mode, was seated
+under a richly-fringed canopy. She burst into a loud laugh as
+Victoire entered.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You look just as much astonished as I expected,&rdquo; cried
+she. &ldquo;Great changes have happened since I saw you last&mdash;I
+always told you, Victoire, I knew the world better than you did.
+What has come of all your schooling, and your mighty goodness, and your
+gratitude truly? Your patroness is banished and a beggar, and
+you a drudge in the shop of a <i>brodeuse</i>, who makes you work your
+fingers to the bone, no doubt. Now you shall see the difference.
+Let me show you my house; you know it was formerly the hotel of the
+Prince de Salms, he that was guillotined the other day; but you know
+nothing, for you have been out of Paris this month, I understand.
+Then I must tell you that my friend Villeneuf has acquired an immense
+fortune! by assignats made in the course of a fortnight. I say
+an immense fortune! and has bought this fine house. Now do you
+begin to understand?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I do not clearly know whom you mean by &lsquo;your friend
+Villeneuf,&rsquo;&rdquo; said Victoire.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The hairdresser who lived in our street,&rdquo; said Manon;
+&ldquo;he became a great patriot, you know, and orator; and, what with
+his eloquence and his luck in dealing in assignats, he has made his
+fortune and mine.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And yours! then he is your husband?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That does not follow&mdash;that is not necessary&mdash;but
+do not look so shocked&mdash;everybody goes on the sane way now; besides,
+I had no other resource&mdash;I must have starved&mdash;I could not
+earn my bread as you do. Besides, I was too delicate for hard
+work of any sort&mdash;and besides&mdash;but come, let me show you my
+house&mdash;you have no idea how fine it is.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>With anxious ostentation Manon displayed all her riches to excite
+Victoire&rsquo;s envy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Confess, Victoire,&rdquo; said she at last, &ldquo;that you
+think me the happiest person you have ever known.&mdash;You do not answer;
+whom did you ever know that was happier?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sister Frances, who died last week, appeared to be much happier,&rdquo;
+said Victoire.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The poor nun!&rdquo; said Manon, disdainfully. &ldquo;Well,
+and whom do you think the next happiest?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Madame de Fleury.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An exile and a beggar!&mdash;Oh, you are jesting now, Victoire&mdash;or&mdash;envious.
+With that sanctified face, citoyenne&mdash;perhaps I should say Mademoiselle&mdash;Victoire
+you would be delighted to change places with me this instant.
+Come, you shall stay with me a week to try how you like it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Excuse me,&rdquo; said Victoire, firmly; &ldquo;I cannot stay
+with you, Manon; you have chosen one way of life and I another&mdash;quite
+another. I do not repent my choice&mdash;may you never repent
+yours!&mdash;Farewell!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bless me! what airs! and with what dignity she looks!
+Repent of my choice!&mdash;a likely thing, truly. Am not I at
+the top of the wheel?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And may not the wheel turn?&rdquo; said Victoire.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Perhaps it may,&rdquo; said Manon; &ldquo;but till it does
+I will enjoy myself. Since you are of a different humour, return
+to Madame Feuillot, and figure upon cambric and muslin, and make out
+bills, and nurse old nuns all the days of your life. You will
+never persuade me, however, that you would not change places with me
+if you could. Stay till you are tried, Mademoiselle Victoire.
+Who was ever in love with you or your virtues?&mdash;Stay till you are
+tried.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER XV</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;But beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree,<br />
+Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard<br />
+Of dragon watch with unenchanted eye<br />
+To save her blossoms, or defend her fruit.&rdquo;&mdash;MILTON.</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>The trial was nearer than either Manon or Victoire expected.
+Manon had scarcely pronounced the last words when the ci-devant hairdresser
+burst into the room, accompanied by several of his political associates,
+who met to consult measures for the good of the nation. Among
+these patriots was the Abbé Tracassier.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who is that pretty girl who is with you, Manon?&rdquo; whispered
+he; &ldquo;a friend of yours, I hope?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Victoire left the room immediately, but not before the profligate
+abbé had seen enough to make him wish to see more. The
+next day he went to Madame Feuillot&rsquo;s under pretence of buying
+some embroidered handkerchiefs; he paid Victoire a profusion of extravagant
+compliments, which made no impression upon her innocent heart, and which
+appeared ridiculous to her plain good sense. She did not know
+who he was, nor did Madame Feuillot; for though she had often heard
+of the abbé, yet she had never seen him. Several succeeding
+days he returned, and addressed himself to Victoire, each time with
+increasing freedom. Madame Feuillot, who had the greatest confidence
+in her, left her entirely to her own discretion. Victoire begged
+her friend Annette to do the business of the shop, and stayed at work
+in the back parlour. Tracassier was much disappointed by her absence;
+but as he thought no great ceremony necessary in his proceedings, he
+made his name known in a haughty manner to Madame de Feuillot, and desired
+that he might be admitted into the back parlour, as he had something
+of consequence to say to Mademoiselle Victoire in private. Our
+readers will not require to have a detailed account of this <i>t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;te</i>;
+it is sufficient to say that the disappointed and exasperated abbé
+left the house muttering imprecations. The next morning a note
+came to Victoire apparently from Manon: it was directed by her, but
+the inside was written by an unknown hand, and continued these words:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are a charming, but incomprehensible girl&mdash;since
+you do not like compliments, you shall not be addressed with empty flattery.
+It is in the power of the person who dictates this, not only to make
+you as rich and great as your cousin Manon, but also to restore to fortune
+and to their country the friends for whom, you are most interested.
+Their fate as well as your own is in your power: if you send a favourable
+answer to this note, the persons alluded to will, to-morrow, be struck
+from the list of emigrants, and reinstated in their former possessions.
+If your answer is decidedly unfavourable, the return of your friends
+to France will be thenceforward impracticable, and their ch&acirc;teau,
+as well as their house in Paris, will be declared national property,
+and sold without delay to the highest bidder. To you, who have
+as much understanding as beauty, it is unnecessary to say more.
+Consult your heart, charming Victoire! be happy, and make others happy.
+This moment is decisive of your fate and of theirs, for you have to
+answer a man of a most decided character.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Victoire&rsquo;s answer was as follows:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My friends would not, I am sure, accept of their fortune,
+or consent to return to their country, upon the conditions proposed;
+therefore I have no merit in rejecting them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Victoire had early acquired good principles, and that plain steady
+good sense, which goes straight to its object, without being dazzled
+or imposed upon by sophistry. She was unacquainted with the refinements
+of sentiment, but she distinctly knew right from wrong, and had sufficient
+resolution to abide by the right. Perhaps many romantic heroines
+might have thought it a generous self-devotion to have become in similar
+circumstances the mistress of Tracassier; and those who are skilled
+&ldquo;to make the worst appear the better cause&rdquo; might have made
+such an act of heroism the foundation of an interesting, or at least
+a fashionable novel. Poor Victoire had not received an education
+sufficiently refined to enable her to understand these mysteries of
+sentiment. She was even simple enough to flatter herself that
+this libertine patriot would not fulfil his threats, and that these
+had been made only with a view to terrify her into compliance.
+In this opinion, however, she found herself mistaken. M. Tracassier
+was indeed a man of the most decided character, if this form may properly
+be applied to those who act uniformly in consequence of their ruling
+passion. The Ch&acirc;teau de Fleury was seized as national property.
+Victoire heard this bad news from the old steward, who was turned out
+of the castle, along with his son, the very day after her rejection
+of the proposed conditions.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I could not have believed that any human creature could be
+so wicked!&rdquo; exclaimed Victoire, glowing with indignation: but
+indignation gave way to sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And the Ch&acirc;teau de Fleury is really seized?&mdash;and
+you, good old man, are turned out of the place where you were born?&mdash;and
+you too, Basile?&mdash;and Madame de Fleury will never come back again!&mdash;and
+perhaps she may be put into prison in a foreign country, and may die
+for want&mdash;and I might have prevented all this!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Unable to shed a tear, Victoire stood in silent consternation, whilst
+Annette explained to the good steward and his son the whole transaction.
+Basile, who was naturally of an impetuous temper, was so transported
+with indignation, that he would have gone instantly with the note from
+Tracassier to denounce him before the whole National Convention, if
+he had not been restrained by his more prudent father. The old
+steward represented to him, that as the note was neither signed nor
+written by the hand of Tracassier, no proof could be brought home to
+him, and the attempt to convict one of so powerful a party would only
+bring certain destruction upon the accusers. Besides, such was
+at this time the general depravity of manners, that numbers would keep
+the guilty in countenance. There was no crime which the mask of
+patriotism could not cover. &ldquo;There is one comfort we have
+in our misfortunes, which these men can never have,&rdquo; said the
+old man; &ldquo;when their downfall comes, and come it will most certainly,
+they will not feel as we do, INNOCENT. Victoire, look up! and
+do not give way to despair&mdash;all will yet be well.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At all events, you have done what is right&mdash;so do not
+reproach yourself,&rdquo; said Basile. &ldquo;Everybody&mdash;I
+mean everybody who is good for anything&mdash;must respect, admire,
+and love you, Victoire.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER XVI</h3>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>&ldquo;Ne mal cio che v&rsquo;annoja,<br />
+Quello e vero gioire<br />
+Che nasce da virtude dopo il soffrire.&rdquo;</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>Basile had not seen without emotion the various instances of goodness
+which Victoire showed during the illness of Sister Frances. Her
+conduct towards M. Tracassier increased his esteem and attachment; but
+he forbore to declare his affection, because he could not, consistently
+with prudence, or with gratitude to his father, think of marrying, now
+that he was not able to maintain a wife and family. The honest
+earnings of many years of service had been wrested from the old steward
+at the time the Ch&acirc;teau de Fleury was seized, and he now depended
+on the industry of his son for the daily support of his age. His
+dependence was just, and not likely to be disappointed; for he had given
+his son an education suitable to his condition in life. Basile
+was an exact arithmetician, could write an excellent hand, and was a
+ready draughtsman and surveyor. To bring these useful talents
+into action, and to find employment for them with men by whom they would
+be honestly rewarded, was the only difficulty&mdash;a difficulty which
+Victoire&rsquo;s brother Maurice soon removed. His reputation
+as a smith had introduced him, among his many customers, to a gentleman
+of worth and scientific knowledge, who was at this time employed to
+make models and plans of all the fortified places in Europe; he was
+in want of a good clerk and draughtsman, of whose integrity he could
+be secure. Maurice mentioned his friend Basile; and upon inquiry
+into his character, and upon trial of his abilities, he was found suited
+to the place, and was accepted. By his well-earned salary he supported
+himself and his father; and began, with the sanguine hopes of a young
+man, to flatter himself that he should soon be rich enough to marry,
+and that then he might declare his attachment to Victoire. Notwithstanding
+all his boasted prudence, he had betrayed sufficient symptoms of his
+passion to have rendered a declaration unnecessary to any clear-sighted
+observer: but Victoire was not thinking of conquests; she was wholly
+occupied with a scheme of earning a certain sum of money for her benefactress,
+who was now, as she feared, in want. All Madame de Fleury&rsquo;s
+former pupils contributed their share to the common stock; and the mantua-maker,
+the confectioner, the servants of different sorts, who had been educated
+at her school, had laid by, during the years of her banishment, an annual
+portion of their wages and savings: with the sum which Victoire now
+added to the fund, it amounted to ten thousand livres. The person
+who undertook to carry this money to Madame de Fleury, was François,
+her former footman, who had procured a pass to go to England as a hairdresser.
+The night before he set out was a happy night for Victoire, as all her
+companions met, by Madame Feuillot&rsquo;s invitation, at her house;
+and after tea they had the pleasure of packing up the little box, in
+which each, besides the money, sent some token their gratitude, and
+some proof of their ingenuity. They would with all their hearts
+have sent twice as many <i>souvenirs</i> as François could carry.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;D&rsquo;abord c&rsquo;est impossible!&rdquo; cried he, when
+he saw the box that was prepared for him to carry to England: but his
+good nature was unable to resist the entreaties of each to have her
+offering carried, &ldquo;which would take up no room.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He departed&mdash;arrived safe in England&mdash;found out Madame
+de Fleury, who was in real distress, in obscure lodgings at Richmond.
+He delivered the money, and all the presents of which he had taken charge:
+but the person to whom she entrusted a letter, in answer to Victoire,
+was not so punctual, or was more unlucky: for the letter never reached
+her, and she and her companions were long uncertain whether their little
+treasure had been received. They still continued, however, with
+indefatigable gratitude, to lay by a portion of their earnings for their
+benefactress; and the pleasure they had in this perseverance made them
+more than amends for the loss of some little amusements, and for privations
+to which they submitted in consequence of their resolution.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, Basile, going on steadily with his employments,
+advanced every day in the favour of his master, and his salary was increased
+in proportion to his abilities and industry; so that he thought he could
+now, without any imprudence, marry. He consulted his father, who
+approved of his choice; he consulted Maurice as to the probability of
+his being accepted by Victoire; and encouraged by both his father and
+his friend, he was upon the eve of addressing himself to Victoire, when
+he was prevented by a new and unforeseen misfortune. His father
+was taken up, by an emissary of Tracassier&rsquo;s, and brought before
+one of their revolutionary committees, where he was accused of various
+acts of <i>incivisme</i>. Among other things equally criminal,
+it was proved that one Sunday, when he went to see Le Petit Trianon,
+then a public-house, he exclaimed, &ldquo;C&rsquo;est ici que le canaille
+danse, et que les honn&ecirc;tes gens pleurent!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Basile was present at this mock examination of his father&mdash;he
+saw him on the point of being dragged to prison&mdash;when a hint was
+given that he might save his father by enlisting immediately, and going
+with the army out of France. Victoire was full in Basile&rsquo;s
+recollection; but there was no other means of saving his father.
+He enlisted, and in twenty-four hours left Paris.</p>
+
+<p>What appear to be the most unfortunate circumstances of life often
+prove ultimately the most advantageous&mdash;indeed, those who have
+knowledge, activity, and integrity, can convert the apparent blanks
+in the lottery of fortune into prizes. Basile was recommended
+to his commanding officer by the gentleman who had lately employed him
+as a clerk; his skill in drawing plans, and in taking rapid surveys
+of the country through which they passed, was extremely useful to his
+general, and his integrity made it safe to trust him as a secretary.
+His commanding officer, though a brave man, was illiterate, and a secretary
+was to him a necessary of life. Basile was not only useful, but
+agreeable; without any mean arts, or servile adulation, he pleased by
+simply showing the desire to oblige and the ability to serve.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Diable!&rdquo; exclaimed the general one day, as he looked
+at Basile&rsquo;s plan of a town which the army was besieging.
+&ldquo;How comes it that you are able to do all these things?
+But you have a genius for this sort of work, apparently.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo; said Basile, &ldquo;these things were taught
+to me when I was a child by a good friend.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A good friend he was, indeed! he did more for you than if
+he had given you a fortune; for, in these times, that might have been
+soon taken from you; but now you have the means of making a fortune
+for yourself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This observation of the general&rsquo;s, obvious as it may seem,
+is deserving of the serious consideration of those who have children
+of their own to educate, or who have the disposal of money for public
+charities. In these times no sensible person will venture to pronounce
+that a change of fortune and station may not await the highest and the
+lowest; whether we rise or fall in the scale of society, personal qualities
+and knowledge will be valuable. Those who fall cannot be destitute,
+and those who rise cannot be ridiculous or contemptible, if they have
+been prepared for their fortune by proper education. In shipwreck
+those who carry their all in their minds are the most secure.</p>
+
+<p>But to return to Basile. He had sense enough not to make his
+general jealous of him by any unseasonable display of his talents, or
+any officious intrusion of advice, even upon subjects which he best
+understood.</p>
+
+<p>The talents of the warrior and the secretary were in such different
+lines, that there was no danger of competition; and the general, finding
+in his secretary the soul of all the arts, good sense, gradually acquired
+the habit of asking his opinion on every subject that came within his
+department. It happened that the general received orders from
+the Directory at Paris to take a certain town, let it cost what it would,
+within a given time: in his perplexity he exclaimed before Basile against
+the unreasonableness of these orders, and declared his belief that it
+was impossible he should succeed, and that this was only a scheme of
+his enemies to prepare his ruin. Basile had attended to the operations
+of the engineer who acted under the general, and perfectly recollected
+the model of the mines of this town, which he had seen when he was employed
+as draughtsman by his Parisian friend. He remembered that there
+was formerly an old mine that had been stopped up somewhere near the
+place where the engineer was at work; he mentioned in private his suspicions
+to the general, who gave orders in consequence. The old mine was
+discovered, cleared out, and by these means the town was taken the day
+before the time appointed. Basile did not arrogate to himself
+any of the glory of this success; he kept his general&rsquo;s secret
+and his confidence. Upon their return to Paris, after a fortunate
+campaign, the general was more grateful than some others have been,
+perhaps because more room was given by Basile&rsquo;s prudence for the
+exercise of this virtue.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My friend,&rdquo; said he to Basile, &ldquo;you have done
+me a great service by your counsel, and a greater still by holding your
+tongue. Speak now, and tell me freely if there is anything I can
+do for you. You see, as a victorious general, I have the upper
+hand amongst these fellows&mdash;Tracassier&rsquo;s scheme to ruin me
+missed&mdash;whatever I ask will at this moment be granted; speak freely,
+therefore.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Basile asked what he knew Victoire most desired&mdash;that Monsieur
+and Madame de Fleury should be struck from the list of emigrants, and
+that their property now in the hands of the nation should be restored
+to them. The general promised that this should be done.
+A warm contest ensued upon the subject between him and Tracassier, but
+the general stood firm; and Tracassier, enraged, forgot his usual cunning,
+and quarrelling irrevocably with a party now more powerful than his
+own, he and his adherents were driven from that station in which they
+had so long tyrannised. From being the rulers of France, they
+in a few hours became banished men, or, in the phrase of the times,
+<i>des déportés</i>.</p>
+
+<p>We must not omit to mention the wretched end of Manon. The
+man with whom she lived perished by the guillotine. From his splendid
+house she went upon the stage, did not succeed, sank from one degree
+of profligacy to another, and at last died in an hospital.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, the order for the restoration of the Fleury property,
+and for permission for the Fleury family to return to France, was made
+out in due form, and Maurice begged to be the messenger of these good
+tidings&mdash;he set out for England with the order.</p>
+
+<p>Victoire immediately went down to the Ch&acirc;teau de Fleury, to
+get everything in readiness for the reception of the family.</p>
+
+<p>Exiles are expeditious in their return to their native country.
+Victoire had but just time to complete her preparations, when Monsieur
+and Madame de Fleury arrived at Calais. Victoire had assembled
+all her companions, all Madame de Fleury&rsquo;s former pupils; and
+the hour when she was expected home, they, with the peasants of the
+neighbourhood, were all in their holiday clothes, and, according to
+the custom of the country, singing and dancing. Without music
+and dancing there is no perfect joy in France. Never was <i>f&ecirc;te
+du village</i> or <i>f&ecirc;te du Seigneur</i> more joyful than this.</p>
+
+<p>The old steward opened the gate, the carriage drove in. Madame
+de Fleury saw that home which she had little expected evermore to behold,
+but all other thoughts were lost in the pleasure of meeting her beloved
+pupils.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My children!&rdquo; cried she, as they crowded round her the
+moment she got out of her carriage&mdash;&ldquo;my dear, <i>good</i>
+children!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was all she could say. She leaned on Victoire&rsquo;s arm
+as she went into the house, and by degrees recovering from the almost
+painful excess of pleasure, began to enjoy what she yet only confusedly
+felt.</p>
+
+<p>Several of her pupils were so much grown and altered in their external
+appearance, that she could scarcely recollect them till they spoke,
+and then their voices and the expression of their countenances brought
+their childhood fully to her memory. Victoire, she thought, was
+changed the least, and at this she rejoiced.</p>
+
+<p>The feeling and intelligent reader will imagine all the pleasure
+that Madame de Fleury enjoyed this day; nor was it merely the pleasure
+of a day. She heard from all her friends, with prolonged satisfaction,
+repeated accounts of the good conduct of these young people during her
+absence. She learned with delight how her restoration to her country
+and her fortune had been effected; and is it necessary to add, that
+Victoire consented to marry Basile, and that she was suitably portioned,
+and, what is better still, that she was perfectly happy? Monsieur
+de Fleury rewarded the attachment and good conduct of Maurice by taking
+him into his service, and making him his manager under the old steward
+at the Ch&acirc;teau de Fleury.</p>
+
+<p>On Victoire&rsquo;s wedding-day Madame de Fleury produced all the
+little offerings of gratitude which she had received from her and her
+companions during her exile. It was now her turn to confer favours,
+and she knew how to confer them both with grace and judgment.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No gratitude in human nature! No gratitude in the lower
+classes of the people!&rdquo; cried she; &ldquo;how much those are mistaken
+who think so! I wish they could know my history, and the history
+of these my children, and they would acknowledge their error.&rdquo;</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #2129 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/2129)
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Murad the Unlucky and Other Tales, by Maria
+Edgeworth, Edited by Henry Morley
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Murad the Unlucky and Other Tales
+
+
+Author: Maria Edgeworth
+
+Release Date: April 22, 2005  [eBook #2129]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MURAD THE UNLUCKY AND OTHER TALES***
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1891 Cassell & Company edition by David Price, email
+ccx074@coventry.ac.uk
+
+
+
+
+
+MURAD THE UNLUCKY AND OTHER TALES
+
+
+Contents:
+
+Introduction
+Murad the Unlucky
+The Limerick Gloves
+Madame de Fleury
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+Maria Edgeworth came of a lively family which had settled in Ireland in
+the latter part of the sixteenth century.  Her father at the age of five-
+and-twenty inherited the family estates at Edgeworthstown in 1769.  He
+had snatched an early marriage, which did not prove happy.  He had a
+little son, whom he was educating upon the principles set forth in
+Rousseau's "Emile," and a daughter Maria, who was born on the 1st of
+January, 1767.  He was then living at Hare Hatch, near Maidenhead.  In
+March, 1773, his first wife died after giving birth to a daughter named
+Anna.  In July, 1773, he married again, Honora Sneyd, and went to live in
+Ireland, taking with him his daughter Maria, who was then about six years
+old.  Two years afterwards she was sent from Ireland to a school at
+Derby.  In April, 1780, her father's second wife died, and advised him
+upon her death-bed to marry her sister Elizabeth.  He married his
+deceased wife's sister on the next following Christmas Day.  Maria
+Edgeworth was in that year removed to a school in London, and her
+holidays were often spent with her father's friend Thomas Day, the author
+of "Sandford and Merton," an eccentric enthusiast who lived then at
+Anningsley, in Surrey.
+
+Maria Edgeworth--always a little body--was conspicuous among her
+schoolfellows for quick wit, and was apt alike for study and invention.
+She was story-teller general to the community.  In 1782, at the age of
+fifteen, she left school and went home with her father and his third
+wife, who then settled finally at Edgeworthstown.
+
+At Edgeworthstown Richard Lovell Edgeworth now became active in the
+direct training of his children, in the improvement of his estate, and in
+schemes for the improvement of the country.  His eldest daughter, Maria,
+showing skill with the pen, he made her more and more his companion and
+fellow-worker to good ends.  She kept household accounts, had entrusted
+to her the whole education of a little brother, wrote stories on a slate
+and read them to the family, wiped them off when not approved, and copied
+them in ink if they proved popular with the home public.  Miss
+Edgeworth's first printed book was a plea for the education of women,
+"Letters to Literary Ladies," published in 1795, when her age was eight-
+and-twenty.  Next year, 1796, working with her father, she produced the
+first volume of the "Parent's Assistant."  In November, 1797, when Miss
+Edgeworth's age was nearly thirty-one, her father, then aged fifty-three,
+lost his third wife, and he married a fourth in the following May.  The
+fourth wife, at first objected to, was young enough to be a companion and
+friend, and between her and Maria Edgeworth a fast friendship came to be
+established.  In the year of her father's fourth marriage Maria joined
+him in the production of two volumes on "Practical Education."  Then
+followed books for children, including "Harry and Lucy," which had been
+begun by her father years before in partnership with his second wife,
+when Thomas Day began writing "Sandford and Merton," with the original
+intention that it should be worked in as a part of the whole scheme.
+
+In the year 1800 Miss Edgeworth, thirty-three years old, began her
+independent career as a novelist with "Castle Rackrent;" and from that
+time on, work followed work in illustration of the power of a woman of
+genius to associate quick wit and quick feeling with sound sense and a
+good reason for speaking.  Sir Walter Scott in his frank way declared
+that he received an impulse from Miss Edgeworth's example as a
+story-teller.  In the general preface to his own final edition of the
+Waverley Novels he said that "Without being so presumptuous as to hope to
+emulate the rich humour, pathetic tenderness, and admirable tact, which
+pervade the works of my accomplished friend, I felt that something might
+be attempted for my own country of the same kind with that which Miss
+Edgeworth so fortunately achieved for Ireland--something which might
+introduce her natives to those of the sister kingdom in a more favourable
+light than they had been placed hitherto, and tend to procure sympathy
+for their virtues and indulgence for their foibles."
+
+Of the three stories in this volume, who--"Murad the Unlucky" and "The
+Limerick Gloves"--first appeared in three volumes of "Popular Tales,"
+which were first published in 1804, with a short introduction by Miss
+Edgeworth's father.  "Madame de Fleury" was written a few years later.
+
+H. M.
+
+
+
+
+MURAD THE UNLUCKY
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+It is well known that the grand seignior amuses himself by going at
+night, in disguise, through streets of Constantinople; as the caliph
+Haroun Alraschid used formerly to do in Bagdad.
+
+One moonlight night, accompanied by his grand vizier, he traversed
+several of the principal streets of the city without seeing anything
+remarkable.  At length, as they were passing a rope-maker's, the sultan
+recollected the Arabian story of Cogia-Hassan Alhabal, the rope-maker,
+and his two friends, Saad and Saadi, who differed so much in their
+opinion concerning the influence of fortune over human affairs.
+
+"What is your opinion on this subject?" said the grand seignior to his
+vizier.
+
+"I am inclined, please your majesty," replied the vizier, "to think that
+success in the world depends more upon prudence than upon what is called
+luck, or fortune."
+
+"And I," said the sultan, "am persuaded that fortune does more for men
+than prudence.  Do you not every day hear of persons who are said to be
+fortunate or unfortunate?  How comes it that this opinion should prevail
+amongst men, if it be not justified by experience?"
+
+"It is not for me to dispute with your majesty," replied the prudent
+vizier.
+
+"Speak your mind freely; I desire and command it," said the sultan.
+
+"Then I am of opinion," answered the vizier, "that people are often led
+to believe others fortunate, or unfortunate, merely because they only
+know the general outline of their histories; and are ignorant of the
+incidents and events in which they have shown prudence or imprudence.  I
+have heard, for instance, that there are at present, in this city, two
+men, who are remarkable for their good and bad fortune: one is called
+Murad the Unlucky, and the other Saladin the Lucky.  Now, I am inclined
+to think, if we could hear their stories, we should find that one is a
+prudent and the other an imprudent character."
+
+"Where do these men live?" interrupted the sultan.  "I will hear their
+histories from their own lips before I sleep."
+
+"Murad the Unlucky lives in the next square," said the vizier.
+
+The sultan desired to go thither immediately.  Scarcely had they entered
+the square, when they heard the cry of loud lamentations.  They followed
+the sound till they came to a house of which the door was open, and where
+there was a man tearing his turban, and weeping bitterly.  They asked the
+cause of his distress, and he pointed to the fragments of a china vase,
+which lay on the pavement at his door.
+
+"This seems undoubtedly to be beautiful china," said the sultan, taking
+up one of the broken pieces; "but can the loss of a china vase be the
+cause of such violent grief and despair?"
+
+"Ah, gentlemen," said the owner of the vase, suspending his lamentations,
+and looking at the dress of the pretended merchants, "I see that you are
+strangers: you do not know how much cause I have for grief and despair!
+You do not know that you are speaking to Murad the Unlucky!  Were you to
+hear all the unfortunate accidents that have happened to me, from the
+time I was born till this instant, you would perhaps pity me, and
+acknowledge I have just cause for despair."
+
+Curiosity was strongly expressed by the sultan; and the hope of obtaining
+sympathy inclined Murad to gratify it by the recital of his adventures.
+"Gentlemen," said he, "I scarcely dare invite you into the house of such
+an unlucky being as I am; but if you will venture to take a night's
+lodging under my roof, you shall hear at your leisure the story of my
+misfortunes."
+
+The sultan and the vizier excused themselves from spending the night with
+Murad, saying that they were obliged to proceed to their khan, where they
+should be expected by their companions; but they begged permission to
+repose themselves for half an hour in his house, and besought him to
+relate the history of his life, if it would not renew his grief too much
+to recollect his misfortunes.
+
+Few men are so miserable as not to like to talk of their misfortunes,
+where they have, or where they think they have, any chance of obtaining
+compassion.  As soon as the pretended merchants were seated, Murad began
+his story in the following manner:--
+
+"My father was a merchant of this city.  The night before I was born he
+dreamed that I came into the world with the head of a dog and the tail of
+a dragon; and that, in haste to conceal my deformity, he rolled me up in
+a piece of linen, which unluckily proved to be the grind seignior's
+turban; who, enraged at his insolence in touching his turban, commanded
+that his head should be struck off.
+
+"My father awaked before he lost his head, but not before he had lost
+half his wits from the terror of his dream.  He considered it as a
+warning sent from above, and consequently determined to avoid the sight
+of me.  He would not stay to see whether I should really be born with the
+head of a dog and the tail of a dragon; but he set out, the next morning,
+on a voyage to Aleppo.
+
+"He was absent for upwards of seven years; and during that time my
+education was totally neglected.  One day I inquired from my mother why I
+had been named Murad the Unlucky.  She told me that this name was given
+to me in consequence of my father's dream; but she added that perhaps it
+might be forgotten, if I proved fortunate in my future life.  My nurse, a
+very old woman, who was present, shook her head, with a look which I
+shall never forget, and whispered to my mother loud enough for me to
+hear, 'Unlucky he was, and is, and ever will be.  Those that are born to
+ill luck cannot help themselves; nor can any, but the great prophet,
+Mahomet himself, do anything for them.  It is a folly for an unlucky
+person to strive with their fate: it is better to yield to it at once.'
+
+"This speech made a terrible impression upon me, young as I then was; and
+every accident that happened to me afterwards confirmed my belief in my
+nurse's prognostic.  I was in my eighth year when my father returned from
+abroad.  The year after he came home my brother Saladin was born, who was
+named Saladin the Lucky, because the day he was born a vessel freighted
+with rich merchandise for my father arrived safely in port.
+
+"I will not weary you with a relation of all the little instances of good
+fortune by which my brother Saladin was distinguished, even during his
+childhood.  As he grew up, his success in everything he undertook was as
+remarkable as my ill luck in all that I attempted.  From the time the
+rich vessel arrived, we lived in splendour; and the supposed prosperous
+state of my father's affairs was of course attributed to the influence of
+my brother Saladin's happy destiny.
+
+"When Saladin was about twenty, my father was taken dangerously ill; and
+as he felt that he should not recover, he sent for my brother to the side
+of his bed, and, to his great surprise, informed him that the
+magnificence in which we had lived had exhausted all his wealth; that his
+affairs were in the greatest disorder; for, having trusted to the hope of
+continual success, he had embarked in projects beyond his powers.
+
+"The sequel was, he had nothing remaining to leave to his children but
+two large china vases, remarkable for their beauty, but still more
+valuable on account of certain verses inscribed upon them in an unknown
+character, which were supposed to operate as a talisman or charm in
+favour of their possessors.
+
+"Both these vases my father bequeathed to my brother Saladin; declaring
+he could not venture to leave either of them to me, because I was so
+unlucky that I should inevitably break it.  After his death, however, my
+brother Saladin, who was blessed with a generous temper, gave me my
+choice of the two vases; and endeavoured to raise my spirits by repeating
+frequently that he had no faith either in good fortune or ill fortune.
+
+"I could not be of his opinion, though I felt and acknowledged his
+kindness in trying to persuade me out of my settled melancholy.  I knew
+it was in vain for me to exert myself, because I was sure that, do what I
+would, I should still be Murad the Unlucky.  My brother, on the contrary,
+was nowise cast down, even by the poverty in which my father left us: he
+said he was sure he should find some means of maintaining himself; and so
+he did.
+
+"On examining our china vases, he found in them a powder of a bright
+scarlet colour; and it occurred to him that it would make a fine dye.  He
+tried it, and after some trouble, it succeeded to admiration.
+
+"During my father's lifetime, my mother had been supplied with rich
+dresses by one of the merchants who was employed by the ladies of the
+grand seignior's seraglio.  My brother had done this merchant some
+trifling favours, and, upon application to him, he readily engaged to
+recommend the new scarlet dye.  Indeed, it was so beautiful, that, the
+moment it was seen, it was preferred to every other colour.  Saladin's
+shop was soon crowded with customers; and his winning manners and
+pleasant conversation were almost as advantageous to him as his scarlet
+dye.  On the contrary, I observed that the first glance at my melancholy
+countenance was sufficient to disgust every one who saw me.  I perceived
+this plainly; and it only confirmed me the more in my belief in my own
+evil destiny.
+
+"It happened one day that a lady, richly apparelled and attended by two
+female slaves, came to my brother's house to make some purchases.  He was
+out, and I alone was left to attend to the shop.  After she had looked
+over some goods, she chanced to see my china vase, which was in the room.
+She took a prodigious fancy to it, and offered me any price if I would
+part with it; but this I declined doing, because I believed that I should
+draw down upon my head some dreadful calamity if I voluntarily
+relinquished the talisman.  Irritated by my refusal, the lady, according
+to the custom of her sex, became more resolute in her purpose; but
+neither entreaties nor money could change my determination.  Provoked
+beyond measure at my obstinacy, as she called it, she left the house.
+
+"On my brother's return, I related to him what had happened, and expected
+that he would have praised me for my prudence; but, on the contrary, he
+blamed me for the superstitious value I set upon the verses on my vase;
+and observed that it would be the height of folly to lose a certain means
+of advancing my fortune for the uncertain hope of magical protection.  I
+could not bring myself to be of his opinion; I had not the courage to
+follow the advice he gave.  The next day the lady returned, and my
+brother sold his vase to her for ten thousand pieces of gold.  This money
+he laid out in the most advantageous manner, by purchasing a new stock of
+merchandise.  I repented when it was too late; but I believe it is part
+of the fatality attending certain persons, that they cannot decide
+rightly at the proper moment.  When the opportunity has been lost, I have
+always regretted that I did not do exactly the contrary to what I had
+previously determined upon.  Often, whilst I was hesitating, the
+favourable moment passed. {1}  Now this is what I call being unlucky.  But
+to proceed with my story.
+
+"The lady who bought my brother Saladin's vase was the favourite of the
+Sultan, and all-powerful in the seraglio.  Her dislike to me, in
+consequence of my opposition to her wishes, was so violent, that she
+refused to return to my brother's house while I remained there.  He was
+unwilling to part with me; but I could not bear to be the ruin of so good
+a brother.  Without telling him my design, I left his house careless of
+what should become of me.  Hunger, however, soon compelled me to think of
+some immediate mode of obtaining relief.  I sat down upon a stone, before
+the door of a baker's shop: the smell of hot bread tempted me in, and
+with a feeble voice I demanded charity.
+
+"The master baker gave me as much bread as I could eat, upon condition
+that I should change dresses with him and carry the rolls for him through
+the city this day.  To this I readily consented; but I had soon reason to
+repent of my compliance.  Indeed, if my ill-luck had not, as usual,
+deprived me at this critical moment of memory and judgment, I should
+never have complied with the baker's treacherous proposal.  For some time
+before, the people of Constantinople had been much dissatisfied with the
+weight and quality of the bread furnished by the bakers.  This species of
+discontent has often been the sure forerunner of an insurrection; and, in
+these disturbances, the master bakers frequently lose their lives.  All
+these circumstances I knew, but they did not occur to my memory when they
+might have been useful.
+
+"I changed dresses with the baker; but scarcely had I proceeded through
+the adjoining streets with my rolls before the mob began to gather round
+me with reproaches and execrations.  The crowd pursued me even to the
+gates of the grand seignior's palace, and the grand vizier, alarmed at
+their violence, sent out an order to have my head struck off; the usual
+remedy, in such cases, being to strike off the baker's head.
+
+"I now fell upon my knees, and protested I was not the baker for whom
+they took me; that I had no connection with him; and that I had never
+furnished the people of Constantinople with bread that was not weight.  I
+declared I had merely changed clothes with a master baker for this day,
+and that I should not have done so but for the evil destiny which governs
+all my actions.  Some of the mob exclaimed that I deserved to lose my
+head for my folly; but others took pity on me, and whilst the officer,
+who was sent to execute the vizier's order, turned to speak to some of
+the noisy rioters, those who were touched by my misfortune opened a
+passage for me through the crowd, and thus favoured, I effected my
+escape.
+
+"I quitted Constantinople; my vase I had left in the care of my brother.
+At some miles' distance from the city I overtook a party of soldiers.  I
+joined them, and learning that they were going to embark with the rest of
+the grand seignior's army for Egypt, I resolved to accompany them.  'If
+it be,' thought I, 'the will of Mahomet that I should perish, the sooner
+I meet my fate the better.'  The despondency into which I was sunk was
+attended by so great a degree of indolence, that I scarcely would take
+the necessary means to preserve my existence.  During our passage to
+Egypt I sat all day long upon the deck of the vessel, smoking my pipe,
+and I am convinced that if a storm had risen, as I expected, I should not
+have taken my pipe from my mouth, nor should I have handled a rope to
+save myself from destruction.  Such is the effect of that species of
+resignation, or torpor, whichever you please to call it, to which my
+strong belief in fatality had reduced my mind.
+
+"We landed, however, safely, contrary to my melancholy forebodings.  By a
+trifling accident, not worth relating, I was detained longer than any of
+my companions in the vessel when we disembarked, and I did not arrive at
+the camp till late at night.  It was moonlight, and I could see the whole
+scene distinctly.  There was a vast number of small tents scattered over
+a desert of white sand; a few date-trees were visible at a distance; all
+was gloomy, and all still; no sound was to be heard but that of the
+camels feeding near the tents, and, as I walked on, I met with no human
+creature.
+
+"My pipe was now out, and I quickened my pace a little towards a fire
+which I saw near one of the tents.  As I proceeded, my eye was caught by
+something sparkling in the sand: it was a ring.  I picked it up and put
+it on my finger, resolving to give it to the public crier the next
+morning, who might find out its rightful owner; but, by ill-luck, I put
+it on my little finger, for which it was much too large, and as I
+hastened towards the fire to light my pipe, I dropped the ring.  I
+stooped to search for it amongst the provender on which a mule was
+feeding, and the cursed animal gave me so violent a kick on the head that
+I could not help roaring aloud.
+
+"My cries awakened those who slept in the tent near which the mule was
+feeding.  Provoked at being disturbed, the soldiers were ready enough to
+think ill of me, and they took it for granted that I was a thief, who had
+stolen the ring I pretended to have just found.  The ring was taken from
+me by force, and the next day I was bastinadoed for having found it; the
+officer persisting in the belief that stripes would make me confess where
+I had concealed certain other articles of value which had lately been
+missed in the camp.  All this was the consequence of my being in a hurry
+to light my pipe and of my having put the ring on a finger that was too
+little for it, which no one but Murad the Unlucky would have done.
+
+"When I was able to walk again, after my wounds were healed, I went into
+one of the tents distinguished by a red flag, having been told that these
+were coffee-houses.  Whilst I was drinking coffee I heard a stranger near
+me complaining that he had not been able to recover a valuable ring he
+had lost, although he had caused his loss to be published for three days
+by the public crier, offering a reward of two hundred sequins to whoever
+should restore it.  I guessed that this was the very ring which I had
+unfortunately found.  I addressed myself to the stranger, and promised to
+point out to him the person who had forced it from me.  The stranger
+recovered his ring, and, being convinced that I had acted honestly, he
+made me a present of two hundred sequins, as some amends for the
+punishment which I had unjustly suffered on his account.
+
+"Now you would imagine that this purse of gold was advantageous to me.
+Far the contrary; it was the cause of new misfortunes.
+
+"One night, when I thought that the soldiers who were in the same tent
+with me were all fast asleep, I indulged myself in the pleasure of
+counting my treasure.  The next day I was invited by my companions to
+drink sherbet with them.  What they mixed with the sherbet which I drank
+I know not, but I could not resist the drowsiness it brought on.  I fell
+into a profound slumber, and when I awoke, I found myself lying under a
+date-tree, at some distance from the camp.
+
+"The first thing I thought of when I came to my recollection was my purse
+of sequins.  The purse I found still safe in my girdle; but on opening
+it, I perceived that it was filled with pebbles, and not a single sequin
+was left.  I had no doubt that I had been robbed by the soldiers with
+whom I had drunk sherbet, and I am certain that some of them must have
+been awake the night I counted my money; otherwise, as I had never
+trusted the secret of my riches to any one, they could not have suspected
+me of possessing any property; for ever since I kept company with them I
+had appeared to be in great indigence.
+
+"I applied in vain to the superior officers for redress: the soldiers
+protested they were innocent; no positive proof appeared against them,
+and I gained nothing by my complaint but ridicule and ill-will.  I called
+myself, in the first transport of my grief, by that name which, since my
+arrival in Egypt, I had avoided to pronounce: I called myself Murad the
+Unlucky.  The name and the story ran through the camp, and I was
+accosted, afterwards, very frequently, by this appellation.  Some,
+indeed, varied their wit by calling me Murad with the purse of pebbles.
+
+"All that I had yet suffered is nothing compared to my succeeding
+misfortunes.
+
+"It was the custom at this time, in the Turkish camp, for the soldiers to
+amuse themselves with firing at a mark.  The superior officers
+remonstrated against this dangerous practice, but ineffectually.
+Sometimes a party of soldiers would stop firing for a few minutes, after
+a message was brought them from their commanders, and then they would
+begin again, in defiance of all orders.  Such was the want of discipline
+in our army, that this disobedience went unpunished.  In the meantime,
+the frequency of the danger made most men totally regardless of it.  I
+have seen tents pierced with bullets, in which parties were quietly
+seated smoking their pipes, whilst those without were preparing to take
+fresh aim at the red flag on the top.
+
+"This apathy proceeded, in some, from unconquerable indolence of body; in
+others, from the intoxication produced by the fumes of tobacco and of
+opium; but in most of my brother Turks it arose from the confidence which
+the belief in predestination inspired.  When a bullet killed one of their
+companions, they only observed, scarcely taking the pipes from their
+mouths, 'Our hour is not yet come: it is not the will of Mahomet that we
+should fall.'
+
+"I own that this rash security appeared to me, at first, surprising, but
+it soon ceased to strike me with wonder, and it even tended to confirm my
+favourite opinion, that some were born to good and some to evil fortune.
+I became almost as careless as my companions, from following the same
+course of reasoning.  'It is not,' thought I, 'in the power of human
+prudence to avert the stroke of destiny.  I shall perhaps die to-morrow;
+let me therefore enjoy to-day.'
+
+"I now made it my study every day to procure as much amusement as
+possible.  My poverty, as you will imagine, restricted me from indulgence
+and excess, but I soon found means to spend what did not actually belong
+to me.  There were certain Jews who were followers of the camp, and who,
+calculating on the probability of victory for our troops, advanced money
+to the soldiers, for which they engaged to pay these usurers exorbitant
+interest.  The Jew to whom I applied traded with me also, upon the belief
+that my brother Saladin, with whose character and circumstances he was
+acquainted, would pay my debts if I should fall.  With the money I raised
+from the Jew I continually bought coffee and opium, of which I grew
+immoderately fond.  In the delirium it created I forgot all my
+misfortunes, all fear of the future.
+
+"One day, when I had raised my spirits by an unusual quantity of opium, I
+was strolling through the camp, sometimes singing, sometimes dancing,
+like a madman, and repeating that I was not now Murad the Unlucky.  Whilst
+these words were on my lips, a friendly spectator, who was in possession
+of his sober senses, caught me by the arm, and attempted to drag me from
+the place where I was exposing myself.  'Do you not see,' said he, 'those
+soldiers, who are firing at a mark?  I saw one of them, just now,
+deliberately taking aim at your turban; and observe, he is now reloading
+his piece.'  My ill luck prevailed even at this instant--the only instant
+in my life when I defied its power.  I struggled with my adviser,
+repeating, 'I am not the wretch you take me for; I am not Murad the
+Unlucky.'  He fled from the danger himself; I remained, and in a few
+seconds afterwards a ball reached me, and I fell senseless on the sand.
+
+"The ball was cut out of my body by an awkward surgeon, who gave me ten
+times more pain than was necessary.  He was particularly hurried at this
+time, because the army had just received orders to march in a few hours,
+and all was confusion in the camp.  My wound was excessively painful, and
+the fear of being left behind with those who were deemed incurable added
+to my torments.  Perhaps, if I had kept myself quiet, I might have
+escaped some of the evils I afterwards endured; but, as I have repeatedly
+told you, gentlemen, it was my ill fortune never to be able to judge what
+was best to be done till the time for prudence was past.
+
+"During the day, when my fever was at the height, and when my orders were
+to keep my bed, contrary to my natural habits of indolence, I rose a
+hundred times, and went out of my tent in the very heat of the day, to
+satisfy my curiosity as to the number of the tests which had not been
+struck, and of the soldiers who had not yet marched.  The orders to march
+were tardily obeyed, and many hours elapsed before our encampment was
+raised.  Had I submitted to my surgeon's orders, I might have been in a
+state to accompany the most dilatory of the stragglers; I could have
+borne, perhaps, the slow motion of a litter, on which some of the sick
+were transported; but in the evening, when the surgeon came to dress my
+wounds, he found me in such a situation that it was scarcely possible to
+remove me.
+
+"He desired a party of soldiers, who were left to bring up the rear, to
+call for me the next morning.  They did so; but they wanted to put me
+upon the mule which I recollected, by a white streak on its back, to be
+the cursed animal that had kicked me whilst I was looking for the ring.  I
+could not be prevailed upon to go upon this unlucky animal.  I tried to
+persuade the soldiers to carry me, and they took me a little way; but,
+soon growing weary of their burden, they laid me down on the sand,
+pretending that they were going to fill a skin with water at a spring
+they had discovered, and bade me lie still, and wait for their return.
+
+"I waited and waited, longing for the water to moisten my parched lips;
+but no water came--no soldiers returned; and there I lay, for several
+hours, expecting every moment to breathe my last.  I made no effort to
+move, for I was now convinced my hour was come, and that it was the will
+of Mahomet that I should perish in this miserable manner, and lie
+unburied like a dog: 'a death,' thought I, 'worthy of Murad the Unlucky.'
+
+"My forebodings were not this time just; a detachment of English soldiers
+passed near the place where I lay: my groans were heard by them, and they
+humanely came to my assistance.  They carried me with them, dressed my
+wound, and treated me with the utmost tenderness.  Christians though they
+were, I must acknowledge that I had reason to love them better than any
+of the followers of Mahomet, my good brother only excepted.
+
+"Under their care I recovered; but scarcely had I regained my strength
+before I fell into new disasters.  It was hot weather, and my thirst was
+excessive.  I went out with a party, in hopes of finding a spring of
+water.  The English soldiers began to dig for a well, in a place pointed
+out to them by one of their men of science.  I was not inclined to such
+hard labour, but preferred sauntering on in search of a spring.  I saw at
+a distance something that looked like a pool of water; and I pointed it
+out to my companions.  Their man of science warned me by his interpreter
+not to trust to this deceitful appearance; for that such were common in
+this country, and that, when I came close to the spot, I should find no
+water there.  He added, that it was at a greater distance than I
+imagined; and that I should, in all probability, be lost in the desert if
+I attempted to follow this phantom.
+
+"I was so unfortunate as not to attend to his advice: I set out in
+pursuit of this accursed delusion, which assuredly was the work of evil
+spirits, who clouded my reason, and allured me into their dominion.  I
+went on, hour after hour, in expectation continually of reaching the
+object of my wishes; but it fled faster than I pursued, and I discovered
+at last that the Englishman, who had doubtless gained his information
+from the people of the country, was right; and that the shining
+appearance which I had taken for water was a mere deception.
+
+"I was now exhausted with fatigue: I looked back in vain after the
+companions I had left; I could see neither men, animals, nor any trace of
+vegetation in the sandy desert.  I had no resource but, weary as I was,
+to measure back my footsteps, which were imprinted in the sand.
+
+"I slowly and sorrowfully traced them as my guides in this unknown land.
+Instead of yielding to my indolent inclinations, I ought, however, to
+have made the best of my way back, before the evening breeze sprang up.  I
+felt the breeze rising, and, unconscious of my danger, I rejoiced, and
+opened my bosom to meet it; but what was my dismay when I saw that the
+wind swept before it all trace of my footsteps in the sand.  I knew not
+which way to proceed; I was struck with despair, tore my garments, threw
+off my turban, and cried aloud; but neither human voice nor echo answered
+me.  The silence was dreadful.  I had tasted no food for many hours, and
+I now became sick and faint.  I recollected that I had put a supply of
+opium into the folds of my turban; but, alas! when I took my turban up, I
+found that the opium had fallen out.  I searched for it in vain on the
+sand, where I had thrown the turban.
+
+"I stretched myself out upon the ground, and yielded without further
+struggle to my evil destiny.  What I suffered from thirst, hunger, and
+heat cannot be described.  At last I fell into a sort of trance, during
+which images of various kinds seemed to flit before my eyes.  How long I
+remained in this state I know not: but I remember that I was brought to
+my senses by a loud shout, which came from persons belonging to a caravan
+returning from Mecca.  This was a shout of joy for their safe arrival at
+a certain spring, well known to them in this part of the desert.
+
+"The spring was not a hundred yards from the spot where I lay; yet, such
+had been the fate of Murad the Unlucky, that he missed the reality,
+whilst he had been hours in pursuit of the phantom.  Feeble and
+spiritless as I was, I sent forth as loud a cry as I could, in hopes of
+obtaining assistance; and I endeavoured to crawl to the place from which
+the voices appeared to come.  The caravan rested for a considerable time
+whilst the slaves filled the skins with water, and whilst the camels took
+in their supply.  I worked myself on towards them; yet, notwithstanding
+my efforts, I was persuaded that, according to my usual ill-fortune, I
+should never be able to make them hear my voice.  I saw them mount their
+camels!  I took off my turban, unrolled it, and waved it in the air.  My
+signal was seen!  The caravan came towards me!
+
+"I had scarcely strength to speak; a slave gave me some water, and, after
+I had drunk, I explained to them who I was, and how I came into this
+situation.
+
+"Whilst I was speaking, one of the travellers observed the purse which
+hung to my girdle: it was the same the merchant for whom I recovered the
+ring had given to me; I had carefully preserved it, because the initials
+of my benefactor's name and a passage from the Koran were worked upon it.
+When he give it to me, he said that perhaps we should meet again in some
+other part of the world, and he should recognise me by this token.  The
+person who now took notice of the purse was his brother; and when I
+related to him how I had obtained it, he had the goodness to take me
+under his protection.  He was a merchant, who was now going with the
+caravan to Grand Cairo: he offered to take me with him, and I willingly
+accepted the proposal, promising to serve him as faithfully as any of his
+slaves.  The caravan proceeded, and I was carried with it."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+"The merchant, who was become my master, treated me with great kindness;
+but on hearing me relate the whole series of my unfortunate adventures,
+he exacted a promise from me that I would do nothing without first
+consulting him.  'Since you are so unlucky, Murad,' said he, 'that you
+always choose for the worst when you choose for yourself, you should
+trust entirely to the judgment of a wiser or a more fortunate friend.'
+
+"I fared well in the service of this merchant, who was a man of a mild
+disposition, and who was so rich that he could afford to be generous to
+all his dependants.  It was my business to see his camels loaded and
+unloaded at proper places, to count his bales of merchandise, and to take
+care that they were not mixed with those of his companions.  This I
+carefully did till the day we arrived at Alexandria; when, unluckily, I
+neglected to count the bales, taking it for granted that they were all
+right, as I had found them so the preceding day.  However, when we were
+to go on board the vessel that was to take us to Cairo, I perceived that
+three bales of cotton were missing.
+
+"I ran to inform my master, who, though a good deal provoked at my
+negligence, did not reproach me as I deserved.  The public crier was
+immediately sent round the city, to offer a reward for the recovery of
+the merchandise; and it was restored by one of the merchants' slaves with
+whom we had travelled.  The vessel was now under sail; my master and I
+and the bales of cotton were obliged to follow in a boat; and when we
+were taken on board, the captain declared he was so loaded, that he could
+not tell where to stow the bales of cotton.  After much difficulty, he
+consented to let them remain upon deck; and I promised my master to watch
+them night and day.
+
+"We had a prosperous voyage, and were actually in sight of shore, which
+the captain said we could not fail to reach early the next morning.  I
+stayed, as usual, this night upon deck, and solaced myself by smoking my
+pipe.  Ever since I had indulged in this practice at the camp at El
+Arish, I could not exist without opium and tobacco.  I suppose that my
+reason was this night a little clouded with the dose I took; but towards
+midnight I was sobered by terror.  I started up from the deck on which I
+had stretched myself; my turban was in flames--the bale of cotton on
+which I had rested was all on fire.  I awakened two sailors, who were
+fast asleep on deck.  The consternation became general, and the confusion
+increased the danger.  The captain and my master were the most active,
+and suffered the most, in extinguishing the flames--my master was
+terribly scorched.
+
+"For my part, I was not suffered to do anything; the captain ordered that
+I should be bound to the mast; and when at last the flames were
+extinguished, the passengers, with one accord, besought him to keep me
+bound hand and foot, lest I should be the cause of some new disaster.  All
+that had happened was, indeed, occasioned by my ill-luck.  I had laid my
+pipe down, when I was falling asleep, upon the bale of cotton that was
+beside me.  The fire from my pipe fell out and set the cotton in flames.
+Such was the mixture of rage and terror with which I had inspired the
+whole crew, that I am sure they would have set me ashore on a desert
+island rather than have had me on board for a week longer.  Even my
+humane master, I could perceive, was secretly impatient to get rid of
+Murad the Unlucky and his evil fortune.
+
+"You may believe that I was heartily glad when we landed, and when I was
+unbound.  My master put a purse containing fifty sequins into my hand,
+and bade me farewell.  'Use this money prudently, Murad, if you can,'
+said he, 'and perhaps your fortune may change.'  Of this I had little
+hopes, but determined to lay out my money as prudently as possible.
+
+"As I was walking through the streets of Grand Cairo, considering how I
+should lay out my fifty sequins to the greatest advantage, I was stopped
+by one who called me by my name, and asked me if I could pretend to have
+forgotten his face.  I looked steadily at him, and recollected to my
+sorrow that he was the Jew Rachub, from whom I had borrowed certain sums
+of money at the camp at El Arish.  What brought him to Grand Cairo,
+except it was my evil destiny, I cannot tell.  He would not quit me; he
+would take no excuses; he said he knew that I had deserted twice, once
+from the Turkish and once from the English army; that I was not entitled
+to any pay; and that he could not imagine it possible that my brother
+Saladin would own me or pay my debts.
+
+"I replied, for I was vexed by the insolence of this Jewish dog, that I
+was not, as he imagined, a beggar: that I had the means of paying him my
+just debt, but that I hoped he would not extort from me all that
+exorbitant interest which none but a Jew could exact.  He smiled, and
+answered that if a Turk loved opium better than money this was no fault
+of his; that he had supplied me with what I loved best in the world, and
+that I ought not to complain when he expected I should return the favour.
+
+"I will not weary you, gentlemen, with all the arguments that passed
+between me and Rachub.  At last we compromised matters; he would take
+nothing less than the whole debt: but he let me have at a very cheap rate
+a chest of second-hand clothes, by which he assured me I might make my
+fortune.  He brought them to Grand Cairo, he said, for the purpose of
+selling them to slave merchants, who, at this time of the year, were in
+want of them to supply their slaves; but he was in haste to get home to
+his wife and family at Constantinople, and, therefore, he was willing to
+make over to a friend the profits of this speculation.  I should have
+distrusted Rachub's professions of friendship, and especially of
+disinterestedness, but he took me with him to the khan where his goods
+were, and unlocked the chest of clothes to show them to me.  They were of
+the richest and finest materials, and had been but little worn.  I could
+not doubt the evidence of my senses; the bargain was concluded, and the
+Jew sent porters to my inn with the chest.
+
+"The next day I repaired to the public market-place; and, when my
+business was known, I had choice of customers before night--my chest was
+empty, and my purse was full.  The profit I made upon the sale of these
+clothes was so considerable, that I could not help feeling astonishment
+at Rachub's having brought himself so readily to relinquish them.
+
+"A few days after I had disposed of the contents of my chest, a Damascene
+merchant, who had bought two suits of apparel from me, told me, with a
+very melancholy face, that both the female slaves who had put on these
+clothes were sick.  I could not conceive that the clothes were the cause
+of their sickness; but soon afterwards, as I was crossing the market, I
+was attacked by at least a dozen merchants, who made similar complaints.
+They insisted upon knowing how I came by the garments, and demanded
+whether I had worn any of them myself.  This day I had, for the first
+time, indulged myself with wearing a pair of yellow slippers, the only
+finery I had reserved for myself out of all the tempting goods.  Convinced
+by my wearing these slippers that I could have had no insidious designs,
+since I shared the danger, whatever it might be, the merchants were a
+little pacified; but what was my terror and remorse the next day, when
+one of them came to inform me that plague-boils had broken out under the
+arms of all the slaves who had worn this pestilential apparel!  On
+looking carefully into the chest, we found the word 'Smyrna' written, and
+half effaced, upon the lid.  Now, the plague had for some time raged at
+Smyrna; and, as the merchants suspected, these clothes had certainly
+belonged to persons who had died of that distemper.  This was the reason
+why the Jew was willing to sell them to me so cheap; and it was for this
+reason that he would not stay at Grand Cairo himself to reap the profits
+of his speculation.  Indeed, if I had paid attention to it at the proper
+time, a slight circumstance might have revealed the truth to me.  Whilst
+I was bargaining with the Jew, before he opened the chest, he swallowed a
+large dram of brandy, and stuffed his nostrils with sponge dipped in
+vinegar; he told me, he did to prevent his perceiving the smell of musk,
+which always threw him into convulsions.
+
+"The horror I felt when I discovered that I had spread the infection of
+the plague, and that I had probably caught it myself, overpowered my
+senses--a cold dew spread over all my limbs, and I fell upon the lid of
+the fatal chest in a swoon.  It is said that fear disposes people to take
+the infection; however this may be, I sickened that evening, and soon was
+in a raging fever.  It was worse for me whenever the delirium left me,
+and I could reflect upon the miseries my ill-fortune had occasioned.  In
+my first lucid interval I looked round, and saw that I had been removed
+from the khan to a wretched hut.  An old woman, who was smoking her pipe
+in the farthest corner of my room, informed me that I had been sent out
+of the town of Grand Cairo by order of the cadi, to whom the merchants
+had made their complaint.  The fatal chest was burnt, and the house in
+which I had lodged razed to the ground.  'And if it had not been for me,'
+continued the old woman, 'you would have been dead probably at this
+instant; but I have made a vow to our great Prophet that I would never
+neglect an opportunity of doing a good action; therefore, when you were
+deserted by all the world, I took care of you.  Here, too, is your purse,
+which I saved from the rabble--and, what is more difficult, from the
+officers of justice.  I will account to you for every part that I have
+expended; and will, moreover, tell you the reason of my making such an
+extraordinary vow.'
+
+"As I believed that this benevolent old woman took great pleasure in
+talking, I made an inclination of my head to thank her for her promised
+history, and she proceeded; but I must confess I did not listen with all
+the attention her narrative doubtless deserved.  Even curiosity, the
+strongest passion of us Turks, was dead within me.  I have no
+recollection of the old woman's story.  It is as much as I can do to
+finish my own.
+
+"The weather became excessively hot; it was affirmed by some of the
+physicians that this heat would prove fatal to their patients; but,
+contrary to the prognostics of the physicians, it stopped the progress of
+the plague.  I recovered, and found my purse much lightened by my
+illness.  I divided the remainder of my money with my humane nurse, and
+sent her out into the city to inquire how matters were going on.
+
+"She brought me word that the fury of the plague had much abated, but
+that she had met several funerals, and that she had heard many of the
+merchants cursing the folly of Murad the Unlucky, who, as they said, had
+brought all this calamity upon the inhabitants of Cairo.  Even fools,
+they say, learn by experience.  I took care to burn the bed on which I
+had lain and the clothes I had worn; I concealed my real name, which I
+knew would inspire detestation, and gained admittance, with a crowd of
+other poor wretches, into a lazaretto, where I performed quarantine and
+offered up prayers daily for the sick.
+
+"When I thought it was impossible I could spread the infection, I took my
+passage home.  I was eager to get away from Grand Cairo, where I knew I
+was an object of execration.  I had a strange fancy haunting my mind; I
+imagined that all my misfortunes, since I left Constantinople, had arisen
+from my neglect of the talisman upon the beautiful china vase.  I dreamed
+three times, when I was recovering from the plague, that a genius
+appeared to me, and said, in a reproachful tone, 'Murad, where is the
+vase that was entrusted to thy care?'
+
+"This dream operated strongly upon my imagination.  As soon as we arrived
+at Constantinople, which we did, to my great surprise, without meeting
+with any untoward accidents, I went in search of my brother Saladin to
+inquire for my vase.  He no longer lived in the house in which I left
+him, and I began to be apprehensive that he was dead, but a porter,
+hearing my inquiries, exclaimed, 'Who is there in Constantinople that is
+ignorant of the dwelling of Saladin the Lucky?  Come with me, and I will
+show it to you.'
+
+"The mansion to which he conducted me looked so magnificent that I was
+almost afraid to enter lest there should be some mistake.  But whilst I
+was hesitating the doors opened, and I heard my brother Saladin's voice.
+He saw me almost at the same instant that I fixed my eyes upon him, and
+immediately sprang forward to embrace me.  He was the same good brother
+as ever, and I rejoiced in his prosperity with all my heart.  'Brother
+Saladin,' said I, 'can you now doubt that some men are born to be
+fortunate and others to be unfortunate?  How often you used to dispute
+this point with me!'
+
+"'Let us not dispute it now in the public street,' said he, smiling; 'but
+come in and refresh yourself, and we will consider the question
+afterwards at leisure.'
+
+"'No, my dear brother,' said I, drawing back, 'you are too good: Murad
+the Unlucky shall not enter your house, lest he should draw down
+misfortunes upon you and yours.  I come only to ask for my vase.'
+
+"'It is safe,' cried he; 'come in, and you shall see it: but I will not
+give it up till I have you in my house.  I have none of these
+superstitious fears: pardon me the expression, but I have none of these
+superstitious fears.'
+
+"I yielded, entered his house, and was astonished at all I saw.  My
+brother did not triumph in his prosperity; but, on the contrary, seemed
+intent only upon making me forget my misfortunes: he listened to the
+account of them with kindness, and obliged me by the recital of his
+history: which was, I must acknowledge, far less wonderful than my own.
+He seemed, by his own account, to have grown rich in the common course of
+things; or rather, by his own prudence.  I allowed for his prejudices,
+and, unwilling to dispute farther with him, said, 'You must remain of
+your opinion, brother, and I of mine; you are Saladin the Lucky, and I
+Murad the Unlucky; and so we shall remain to the end of our lives.'
+
+"I had not been in his house four days when an accident happened, which
+showed how much I was in the right.  The favourite of the sultan, to whom
+he had formerly sold his china vase, though her charms were now somewhat
+faded by time, still retained her power and her taste for magnificence.
+She commissioned my brother to bespeak for her, at Venice, the most
+splendid looking-glass that money could purchase.  The mirror, after many
+delays and disappointments, at length arrived at my brother's house.  He
+unpacked it, and sent to let the lady know it was in perfect safety.  It
+was late in the evening, and she ordered it should remain where it was
+that night, and that it should be brought to the seraglio the next
+morning.  It stood in a sort of ante-chamber to the room in which I
+slept; and with it were left some packages, containing glass chandeliers
+for an unfinished saloon in my brother's house.  Saladin charged all his
+domestics to be vigilant this night, because he had money to a great
+amount by him, and there had been frequent robberies in our
+neighbourhood.  Hearing these orders, I resolved to be in readiness at a
+moment's warning.  I laid my scimitar beside me upon a cushion, and left
+my door half open, that I might hear the slightest noise in the
+ante-chamber or the great staircase.  About midnight I was suddenly
+awakened by a noise in the ante-chamber.  I started up, seized my
+scimitar, and the instant I got to the door, saw, by the light of the
+lamp which was burning in the room, a man standing opposite to me, with a
+drawn sword in his hand.  I rushed forward, demanding what he wanted, and
+received no answer; but seeing him aim at me with his scimitar, I gave
+him, as I thought, a deadly blow.  At this instant I heard a great crash;
+and the fragments of the looking-glass, which I had shivered, fell at my
+feet.  At the same moment something black brushed by my shoulder: I
+pursued it, stumbled over the packages of glass, and rolled over them
+down the stairs.
+
+"My brother came out of his room to inquire the cause of all this
+disturbance; and when he saw the fine mirror broken, and me lying amongst
+the glass chandeliers at the bottom of the stairs, he could not forbear
+exclaiming, 'Well, brother! you are indeed Murad the Unlucky.'
+
+"When the first emotion was over, he could not, however, forbear laughing
+at my situation.  With a degree of goodness, which made me a thousand
+times more sorry for the accident, he came downstairs to help me up, gave
+me his hand, and said, 'Forgive me if I was angry with you at first.  I
+am sure you did not mean to do me any injury; but tell me how all this
+has happened?'
+
+"Whilst Saladin was speaking, I heard the same kind of noise which had
+alarmed me in the ante-chamber; but, on looking back, I saw only a black
+pigeon, which flew swiftly by me, unconscious of the mischief he had
+occasioned.  This pigeon I had unluckily brought into the house the
+preceding day; and had been feeding and trying to tame it for my young
+nephews.  I little thought it would be the cause of such disasters.  My
+brother, though he endeavoured to conceal his anxiety from me, was much
+disturbed at the idea of meeting the favourite's displeasure, who would
+certainly be grievously disappointed by the loss of her splendid looking-
+glass.  I saw that I should inevitably be his ruin if I continued in his
+house; and no persuasions could prevail upon me to prolong my stay.  My
+generous brother, seeing me determined to go, said to me, 'A factor, whom
+I have employed for some years to sell merchandise for me, died a few
+days ago.  Will you take his place?  I am rich enough to bear any little
+mistakes you may fall into from ignorance of business; and you will have
+a partner who is able and willing to assist you.'
+
+"I was touched to the heart by this kindness, especially at such a time
+as this.  He sent one of his slaves with me to the shop in which you now
+see me, gentlemen.  The slave, by my brother's directions, brought with
+us my china vase, and delivered it safely to me, with this message: 'The
+scarlet dye that was found in this vase, and in its fellow, was the first
+cause of Saladin's making the fortune he now enjoys: he therefore does no
+more than justice in sharing that fortune with his brother Murad.'
+
+"I was now placed in as advantageous a situation as possible; but my mind
+was ill at ease when I reflected that the broken mirror might be my
+brother's ruin.  The lady by whom it had been bespoken was, I well knew,
+of a violent temper; and this disappointment was sufficient to provoke
+her to vengeance.  My brother sent me word this morning, however, that
+though her displeasure was excessive, it was in my power to prevent any
+ill consequences that might ensue.  'In my power!' I exclaimed; 'then,
+indeed, I am happy!  Tell my brother there is nothing I will not do to
+show him my gratitude and to save him from the consequences of my folly.'
+
+"The slave who was sent by my brother seemed unwilling to name what was
+required of me, saying that his master was afraid I should not like to
+grant the request.  I urged him to speak freely, and he then told me the
+favourite declared nothing would make her amends for the loss of the
+mirror but the fellow-vase to that which she had bought from Saladin.  It
+was impossible for me to hesitate; gratitude for my brother's generous
+kindness overcame my superstitious obstinacy, and I sent him word I would
+carry the vase to him myself.
+
+"I took it down this evening from the shelf on which it stood; it was
+covered with dust, and I washed it, but, unluckily, in endeavouring to
+clean the inside from the remains of the scarlet powder, I poured hot
+water into it, and immediately I heard a simmering noise, and my vase, in
+a few instants, burst asunder with a loud explosion.  These fragments,
+alas! are all that remain.  The measure of my misfortunes is now
+completed!  Can you wonder, gentlemen, that I bewail my evil destiny?  Am
+I not justly called Murad the Unlucky?  Here end all my hopes in this
+world!  Better would it have been if I had died long ago!  Better that I
+had never been born!  Nothing I ever have done or attempted has
+prospered.  Murad the Unlucky is my name, and ill-fate has marked me for
+her own."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+The lamentations of Murad were interrupted by the entrance of Saladin.
+Having waited in vain for some hours, he now came to see if any disaster
+had happened to his brother Murad.  He was surprised at the sight of the
+two pretended merchants, and could not refrain from exclamations on
+beholding the broken vase.  However, with his usual equanimity and good-
+nature, he began to console Murad; and, taking up the fragments, examined
+them carefully, one by one joined them together again, found that none of
+the edges of the china were damaged, and declared he could have it mended
+so as to look as well as ever.
+
+Murad recovered his spirits upon this.  "Brother," said he, "I comfort
+myself for being Murad the Unlucky when I reflect that you are Saladin
+the Lucky.  See, gentlemen," continued he, turning to the pretended
+merchants, "scarcely has this most fortunate of men been five minutes in
+company before he gives a happy turn to affairs.  His presence inspires
+joy: I observe your countenances, which had been saddened by my dismal
+history, have brightened up since he has made his appearance.  Brother, I
+wish you would make these gentlemen some amends for the time they have
+wasted in listening to my catalogue of misfortunes by relating your
+history, which, I am sure, they will find rather more exhilarating."
+
+Saladin consented, on condition that the strangers would accompany him
+home and partake of a social banquet.  They at first repeated the former
+excuse of their being obliged to return to their inn; but at length the
+sultan's curiosity prevailed, and he and his vizier went home with
+Saladin the Lucky, who, after supper, related his history in the
+following manner:--
+
+"My being called Saladin the Lucky first inspired me with confidence in
+myself; though I own that I cannot remember any extraordinary instances
+of good luck in my childhood.  An old nurse of my mother's, indeed,
+repeated to me twenty times a day that nothing I undertook could fail to
+succeed, because I was Saladin the Lucky.  I became presumptuous and
+rash; and my nurse's prognostics might have effectually prevented their
+accomplishment had I not, when I was about fifteen, been roused to
+reflection during a long confinement, which was the consequence of my
+youthful conceit and imprudence.
+
+"At this time there was at the Porte a Frenchman, an ingenious engineer,
+who was employed and favoured by the sultan, to the great astonishment of
+many of my prejudiced countrymen.  On the grand seignior's birthday he
+exhibited some extraordinarily fine fireworks; and I, with numbers of the
+inhabitants of Constantinople, crowded to see them.  I happened to stand
+near the place where the Frenchman was stationed; the crowd pressed upon
+him, and I amongst the rest; he begged we would, for our own sakes, keep
+at a greater distance, and warned us that we might be much hurt by the
+combustibles which he was using.  I, relying upon my mood fortune,
+disregarded all these cautions; and the consequence was that, as I
+touched some of the materials prepared for the fireworks, they exploded,
+dashed me upon the ground with great violence, and I was terribly burnt.
+
+"This accident, gentlemen, I consider as one of the most fortunate
+circumstances of my life; for it checked and corrected the presumption of
+my temper.  During the time I was confined to my bed the French gentleman
+came frequently to see me.  He was a very sensible man; and the
+conversations he had with me enlarged my mind and cured me of many
+foolish prejudices, especially of that which I had been taught to
+entertain concerning the predominance of what is called luck or fortune
+in human affairs.  'Though you are called Saladin the Lucky,' said he,
+'you find that your neglect of prudence has nearly brought you to the
+grave even in the bloom of youth.  Take my advice, and henceforward trust
+more to prudence than to fortune.  Let the multitude, if they will, call
+you Saladin the Lucky; but call yourself, and make yourself, Saladin the
+Prudent.'
+
+"These words left an indelible impression on my mind, and gave a new turn
+to my thoughts and character.  My brother, Murad, his doubtless told you
+our difference of opinion on the subject of predestination produced
+between us frequent arguments; but we could never convince one another,
+and we each have acted, through life, in consequence of our different
+beliefs.  To this I attribute my success and his misfortunes.
+
+"The first rise of my fortune, as you have probably heard from Murad, was
+owing to the scarlet dye, which I brought to perfection with infinite
+difficulty.  The powder, it is true, was accidentally found by me in our
+china vases; but there it might have remained to this instant, useless,
+if I had not taken the pains to make it useful.  I grant that we can only
+partially foresee and command events; yet on the use we make of our own
+powers, I think, depends our destiny.  But, gentlemen, you would rather
+hear my adventures, perhaps, than my reflections; and I am truly
+concerned, for your sakes, that I have no wonderful events to relate.  I
+am sorry I cannot tell you of my having been lost in a sandy desert.  I
+have never had the plague, nor even been shipwrecked: I have been all my
+life an inhabitant of Constantinople, and have passed my time in a very
+quiet and uniform manner.
+
+"The money I received from the sultan's favourite for my china vase, as
+my brother may have told you, enabled me to trade on a more extensive
+scale.  I went on steadily with my business, and made it my whole study
+to please my employers by all fair and honourable means.  This industry
+and civility succeeded beyond my expectations: in a few years I was rich
+for a man in my way of business.
+
+"I will not proceed to trouble you with the journal of a petty merchant's
+life; I pass on to the incident which made a considerable change in my
+affairs.
+
+"A terrible fire broke out near the walls of the grand seignior's
+seraglio.  As you are strangers, gentlemen, you may not have heard of
+this event, though it produced so great a sensation in Constantinople.
+The vizier's superb palace was utterly consumed, and the melted lead
+poured down from the roof of the mosque of St. Sophia.  Various were the
+opinions formed by my neighbours respecting the cause of the
+conflagration.  Some supposed it to be a punishment for the sultan's
+having neglected one Friday to appear it the mosque of St. Sophia; others
+considered it as a warning sent by Mahomet to dissuade the Porte from
+persisting in a war in which we were just engaged.  The generality,
+however, of the coffee-house politicians contented themselves with
+observing that it was the will of Mahomet that the palace should be
+consumed.  Satisfied by this supposition, they took no precaution to
+prevent similar accidents in their own houses.  Never were fires so
+common in the city as at this period; scarcely a night passed without our
+being wakened by the cry of fire.
+
+"These frequent fires were rendered still more dreadful by villains, who
+were continually on the watch to increase the confusion by which they
+profited, and to pillage the houses of the sufferers.  It was discovered
+that these incendiaries frequently skulked, towards evening, in the
+neighbourhood of the bezestein, where the richest merchants store their
+goods.  Some of these wretches were detected in throwing _coundaks_, or
+matches, into the windows; and if these combustibles remained a
+sufficient time, they could not fail to set the house on fire.
+
+"Notwithstanding all these circumstances, many even of those who had
+property to preserve continued to repeat, 'It is the will of Mahomet,'
+and consequently to neglect all means of preservation.  I, on the
+contrary, recollecting the lesson I had learned from the sensible
+foreigner, neither suffered my spirits to sink with superstitious fears
+of ill-luck, nor did I trust presumptuously to my good fortune.  I took
+every possible means to secure myself.  I never went to bed without
+having seen that all the lights and fires in the house were extinguished,
+and that I had a supply of water in the cistern.  I had likewise learned
+from my Frenchman that wet mortar was the most effectual thing for
+stopping the progress of flames.  I, therefore, had a quantity of mortar
+made up in one of my outhouses, which I could use at a moment's warning.
+These precautions were all useful to me.  My own house, indeed, was never
+actually on fire; but the houses of my next-door neighbours were no less
+than five times in flames in the course of one winter.  By my exertions,
+or rather by my precautions, they suffered but little damage, and all my
+neighbours looked upon me as their deliverer and friend; they loaded me
+with presents, and offered more, indeed, than I would accept.  All
+repeated that I was Saladin the Lucky.  This compliment I disclaimed,
+feeling more ambitious of being called Saladin the Prudent.  It is thus
+that what we call modesty is often only a more refined species of pride.
+But to proceed with my story.
+
+"One night I had been later than usual at supper at a friend's house;
+none but the watch were in the streets, and even they, I believe, were
+asleep.
+
+"As I passed one of the conduits which convey water to the city, I heard
+a trickling noise; and, upon examination, I found that the cook of the
+water-spout was half turned, so that the water was running out.  I turned
+it back to its proper place, thought it had been left unturned by
+accident, and walked on; but I had not proceeded far before I came to
+another spout, and another, which were in the same condition.  I was
+convinced that this could not be the effect merely of accident, and
+suspected that some ill-intentioned persons designed to let out and waste
+the water of the city, that there might be none to extinguish any fire
+that should break out in the course of the night.
+
+"I stood still for a few moments, to consider how it would be most
+prudent to act.  It would be impossible for me to run to all parts of the
+city, that I might stop the pipes that were running to waste.  I first
+thought of wakening the watch and the firemen, who were most of them
+slumbering at their stations; but I reflected that they were perhaps not
+to be trusted, and that they were in a confederacy with the incendiaries,
+otherwise they would certainly before this hour have observed and stopped
+the running of the sewers in their neighbourhood.  I determined to waken
+a rich merchant, called Damat Zade, who lived near me, and who had a
+number of slaves whom he could send to different parts of the city, to
+prevent mischief and give notice to the inhabitants of their danger.
+
+"He was a very sensible, active man, and one that could easily be
+wakened; he was not like some Turks, an hour in recovering their
+lethargic senses.  He was quick in decision and action; and his slaves
+resembled their master.  He despatched a messenger immediately to the
+grand vizier, that the sultan's safety might be secured, and sent others
+to the magistrates in each quarter of Constantinople.  The large drums in
+the janissary aga's tower beat to rouse the inhabitants; and scarcely had
+they been heard to beat half an hour before the fire broke out in the
+lower apartments of Damat Zade's house, owing to a _coundak_ which had
+been left behind one of the doors.
+
+"The wretches who had prepared the mischief came to enjoy it, and to
+pillage; but they were disappointed.  Astonished to find themselves taken
+into custody, they could not comprehend how their designs had been
+frustrated.  By timely exertions, the fire in my friend's house was
+extinguished; and though fires broke out during the night in many parts
+of the city, but little damage was sustained, because there was time for
+precautions, and, by the stopping of the spouts, sufficient water was
+preserved.  People were awakened and warned of the danger, and they
+consequently escaped unhurt.
+
+"The next day, as soon as I made my appearance at the bezestein, the
+merchants crowded round, called me their benefactor, and the preserver of
+their lives and fortunes.  Damat Zade, the merchant whom I had awakened
+the preceding night, presented to me a heavy purse of gold, and put upon
+my finger a diamond ring of considerable value; each of the merchants
+followed his example in making me rich presents; the magistrates also
+sent me tokens of their approbation; and the grand vizier sent me a
+diamond of the first water, with a line written by his own hand, 'To the
+man who has saved Constantinople.'  Excuse me, gentlemen, for the vanity
+I seem to show in mentioning these circumstances.  You desired to hear my
+history, and I cannot, therefore, omit the principal circumstance of my
+life.  In the course of four-and-twenty hours I found myself raised, by
+the munificent gratitude of the inhabitants of this city, to a state of
+affluence far beyond what I had ever dreamed of attaining.
+
+"I now took a house suited to my circumstances, and bought a few slaves.
+As I was carrying my slaves home, I was met by a Jew, who stopped me,
+saying, in his language, 'My lord, I see, has been purchasing slaves; I
+could clothe them cheaply.'  There was something mysterious in the manner
+of this Jew, and I did not like his countenance; but I considered that I
+ought not to be governed by caprice in my dealings, and that, if this man
+could really clothe my slaves more cheaply than another, I ought not to
+neglect his offer merely because I took a dislike to the cut of his
+beard, the turn of his eye, or the tone of his voice.  I, therefore, bade
+the Jew follow me home, saying that I would consider of his proposal.
+
+"When we came to talk over the matter, I was surprised to find him so
+reasonable in his demands.  On one point, indeed, he appeared unwilling
+to comply.  I required not only to see the clothes I was offered, but
+also to know how they came into his possession.  On this subject he
+equivocated; I, therefore, suspected there must be something wrong.  I
+reflected what it could be, and judged that the goods had been stolen, or
+that they had been the apparel of persons who had died of some contagious
+distemper.  The Jew showed me a chest, from which he said I might choose
+whatever suited me best.  I observed that, as he was going to unlock the
+chest, he stuffed his nose with some aromatic herbs.  He told me that he
+did so to prevent his smelling the musk with which the chest was
+perfumed; musk, he said, had an extraordinary effect upon his nerves.  I
+begged to have some of the herbs which he used himself, declaring that
+musk was likewise offensive to me.
+
+"The Jew, either struck by his own conscience or observing my suspicions,
+turned as pale as death.  He pretended he had not the right key, and
+could not unlock the chest; said he must go in search of it, and that he
+would call on me again.
+
+"After he had left me, I examined some writing upon the lid of the chest
+that had been nearly effaced.  I made out the word 'Smyrna,' and this was
+sufficient to confirm all my suspicions.  The Jew returned no more; he
+sent some porters to carry away the chest, and I heard nothing of him for
+some time, till one day, when I was at the house of Damat Zade, I saw a
+glimpse of the Jew passing hastily through one of the courts, as if he
+wished to avoid me.  'My friend,' said I to Damat Zade, 'do not attribute
+my question to impertinent curiosity, or to a desire to intermeddle with
+your affairs, if I venture to ask the nature of your business with the
+Jew who has just now crossed your court?'
+
+"'He has engaged to supply me with clothing for my slaves,' replied my
+friend, 'cheaper than I can purchase it elsewhere.  I have a design to
+surprise my daughter Fatima, on her birthday, with an entertainment in
+the pavilion in the garden, and all her female slaves shall appear in new
+dresses on the occasion.'
+
+"I interrupted my friend, to tell him what I suspected relative to this
+Jew and his chest of clothes.  It is certain that the infection of the
+plague can be communicated by clothes, not only after months, but after
+years have elapsed.  The merchant resolved to have nothing more to do
+with this wretch, who could thus hazard the lives of thousands of his
+follow-creatures for a few pieces of gold.  We sent notice of the
+circumstance to the cadi, but the cadi was slow in his operations; and
+before he could take the Jew into custody the cunning fellow had effected
+his escape.  When his house was searched, he and his chest had
+disappeared.  We discovered that he sailed for Egypt, and rejoiced that
+we had driven him from Constantinople.
+
+"My friend, Damat Zade, expressed the warmest gratitude to me.  'You
+formerly saved my fortune; you have now saved my life, and a life yet
+dearer than my own: that of my daughter Fatima.'
+
+"At the sound of that name I could not, I believe, avoid showing some
+emotion.  I had accidentally seen this lady, and I had been captivated by
+her beauty and by the sweetness of her countenance; but as I knew she was
+destined to be the wife of another, I suppressed my feeling, and
+determined to banish the recollection of the fair Fatima for ever from my
+imagination.  Her father, however, at this instant threw into my way a
+temptation which it required all my fortitude to resist.  'Saladin,'
+continued he, 'it is but just that you, who have saved our lives, should
+share our festivity.  Come here on the birthday of my Fatima; I will
+place you in a balcony which overlooks the garden, and you shall see the
+whole spectacle.  We shall have a _feast of tulips_, in imitation of that
+which, as you know, is held in the grand seignior's gardens.  I assure
+you the sight will be worth seeing; and besides, you will have a chance
+of beholding my Fatima, for a moment, without her veil.'
+
+"'That,' interrupted I, 'is the thing I most wish to avoid.  I dare not
+indulge myself in a pleasure which might cost me the happiness of my
+life.  I will conceal nothing from you, who treat me with so much
+confidence.  I have already beheld the charming countenance of your
+Fatima, but I know that she is destined to be the wife of a happier man.'
+
+"Damat Zade seemed much pleased by the frankness with which I explained
+myself; but he would not give up the idea of my sitting with him in the
+balcony on the day of the feast of tulips; and I, on my part, could not
+consent to expose myself to another view of the charming Fatima.  My
+friend used every argument, or rather every sort of persuasion, he could
+imagine to prevail upon me; he then tried to laugh me out of my
+resolution; and, when all failed, he said, in a voice of anger, 'Go,
+then, Saladin: I am sure you are deceiving me; you have a passion for
+some other woman, and you would conceal it from me, and persuade me you
+refuse the favour I offer you from prudence, when, in fact, it is from
+indifference and contempt.  Why could you not speak the truth of your
+heart to me with that frankness with which one friend should treat
+another?'
+
+"Astonished at this unexpected charge, and at the anger which flashed
+from the eyes of Damat Zade, who till this moment had always appeared to
+me a man of a mild and reasonable temper, I was for an instant tempted to
+fly into a passion and leave him; but friends, once lost, are not easily
+regained.  This consideration had power sufficient to make me command my
+temper.  'My friend,' replied I, 'we will talk over this affair
+to-morrow.  You are now angry, and cannot do me justice, but to-morrow
+you will be cool; you will then be convinced that I have not deceived
+you, and that I have no design but to secure my own happiness, by the
+most prudent means in my power, by avoiding the sight of the dangerous
+Fatima.  I have no passion for any other woman.'
+
+"'Then,' said my friend, embracing me, and quitting the tone of anger
+which he had assumed only to try my resolution to the utmost, 'Then,
+Saladin, Fatima is yours.'
+
+"I scarcely dared to believe my senses; I could not express my joy!  'Yes,
+my friend,' continued the merchant, 'I have tried your prudence to the
+utmost, it has been victorious, and I resign my Fatima to you, certain
+that you will make her happy.  It is true I had a greater alliance in
+view for her--the Pacha of Maksoud has demanded her from me; but I have
+found, upon private inquiry, he is addicted to the intemperate use of
+opium, and my daughter shall never be the wife of one who is a violent
+madman one-half the day and a melancholy idiot during the remainder.  I
+have nothing to apprehend from the pacha's resentment, because I have
+powerful friends with the grand vizier, who will oblige him to listen to
+reason, and to submit quietly to a disappointment he so justly merits.
+And now, Saladin, have you any objection to seeing the feast of tulips?'
+
+"I replied only by falling at the merchant's feet, and embracing his
+knees.  The feast of tulips came and on that day I was married to the
+charming Fatima!  The charming Fatima I continue still to think her,
+though she has now been my wife some years.  She is the joy and pride of
+my heart; and, from our mutual affection, I have experienced more
+felicity than from all the other circumstances of my life, which are
+called so fortunate.  Her father gave me the house in which I now live,
+and joined his possessions to ours; so that I have more wealth even than
+I desire.  My riches, however, give me continually the means of relieving
+the wants of others; and therefore I cannot affect to despise them.  I
+must persuade my brother Murad to share them with me, and to forget his
+misfortunes: I shall then think myself completely happy.  As to the
+sultana's looking-glass and your broken vase, my dear brother," continued
+Saladin, "we must think of some means--"
+
+"Think no more of the sultana's looking-glass or of the broken vase,"
+exclaimed the sultan, throwing aside his merchant's habit, and showing
+beneath it his own imperial vest.  "Saladin, I rejoice to have heard,
+from your own lips, the history of your life.  I acknowledge, vizier, I
+have been in the wrong in our argument," continued the sultan, turning to
+his vizier.  "I acknowledge that the histories of Saladin the Lucky and
+Murad the Unlucky favour your opinion, that prudence has more influence
+than chance in human affairs.  The success and happiness of Saladin seem
+to me to have arisen from his prudence: by that prudence Constantinople
+has been saved from flames and from the plague.  Had Murad possessed his
+brother's discretion, he would not have been on the point of losing his
+head, for selling rolls which he did not bake: he would not have been
+kicked by a mule or bastinadoed for finding a ring: he would not have
+been robbed by one party of soldiers, or shot by another: he would not
+have been lost in a desert, or cheated by a Jew: he would not have set a
+ship on fire; nor would he have caught the plague, and spread it through
+Grand Cairo: he would not have run my sultana's looking-glass through the
+body, instead of a robber: he would not have believed that the fate of
+his life depended on certain verses on a china vase: nor would he, at
+last, have broken this precious talisman, by washing it with hot water.
+Henceforward, let Murad the Unlucky be named Murad the Imprudent: let
+Saladin preserve the surname he merits, and be henceforth called Saladin
+the Prudent."
+
+So spake the sultan, who, unlike the generality of monarchs, could bear
+to find himself in the wrong, and could discover his vizier to be in the
+right without cutting off his head.  History farther informs us that the
+sultan offered to make Saladin a pacha, and to commit to him the
+government of a province; but, Saladin the Prudent declined this honour,
+saying he had no ambition, was perfectly happy in his present situation,
+and that, when this was the case, it would be folly to change, because no
+one can be more than happy.  What farther adventures befell Murad the
+Imprudent are not recorded; it is known only that he became a daily
+visitor to the Teriaky, and that he died a martyr to the immoderate use
+of opium.
+
+
+
+
+THE LIMERICK GLOVES
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+It was Sunday morning, and a fine day in autumn; the bells of Hereford
+Cathedral rang, and all the world, smartly dressed, were flocking to
+church.
+
+"Mrs. Hill!  Mrs. Hill!--Phoebe! Phoebe!  There's the cathedral bell, I
+say, and neither of you ready for church, and I a verger," cried Mr.
+Hill, the tanner, as he stood at the bottom of his own staircase.  "I'm
+ready, papa," replied Phoebe; and down she came, looking so clean, so
+fresh, and so gay, that her stern father's brows unbent, and he could
+only say to her, as she was drawing on a new pair of gloves, "Child, you
+ought to have had those gloves on before this time of day."
+
+"Before this time of day!" cried Mrs. Hill, who was now coming downstairs
+completely equipped--"before this time of day!  She should know better, I
+say, than to put on those gloves at all: more especially when going to
+the cathedral."
+
+"The gloves are very good gloves, as far as I see," replied Mr. Hill.
+"But no matter now.  It is more fitting that we should be in proper time
+in our pew, to set an example, as becomes us, than to stand here talking
+of gloves and nonsense."
+
+He offered his wife and daughter each an arm, and set out for the
+cathedral; but Phoebe was too busy in drawing on her new gloves, and her
+mother was too angry at the sight of them, to accept of Mr. Hill's
+courtesy.  "What I say is always nonsense, I know, Mr. Hill," resumed the
+matron: "but I can see as far into a millstone as other folks.  Was it
+not I that first gave you a hint of what became of the great dog that we
+lost out of our tan-yard last winter?  And was it not I who first took
+notice to you, Mr. Hill, verger as you are, of the hole under the
+foundation of the cathedral?  Was it not, I ask you, Mr. Hill?"
+
+"But, my dear Mrs. Hill, what has all this to do with Phoebe's gloves?"
+
+"Are you blind, Mr. Hill?  Don't you see that they are Limerick gloves?"
+
+"What of that?" said Mr. Hill, still preserving his composure, as it was
+his custom to do as long as he could, when he saw his wife was ruffled.
+
+"What of that, Mr. Hill! why, don't you know that Limerick is in Ireland,
+Mr. Hill?"
+
+"With all my heart, my dear."
+
+"Yes, and with all your heart, I suppose, Mr. Hill, you would see our
+cathedral blown up, some fair day or other, and your own daughter married
+to the person that did it; and you a verger, Mr. Hill."
+
+"God forbid!" cried Mr, Hill; and he stopped short and settled his wig.
+Presently recovering himself, he added, "But, Mrs. Hill, the cathedral is
+not yet blown up; and our Phoebe is not yet married."
+
+"No; but what of that, Mr. Hill?  Forewarned is forearmed, as I told you
+before your dog was gone; but you would not believe me, and you see how
+it turned out in that case; and so it will in this case, you'll see, Mr.
+Hill."
+
+"But you puzzle and frighten me out of my wits, Mrs. Hill," said the
+verger, again settling his wig.  "_In that case and in this case_!  I
+can't understand a syllable of what you've been saying to me this half-
+hour.  In plain English, what is there the matter about Phoebe's gloves?"
+
+"In plain English, then, Mr. Hill, since you can understand nothing else,
+please to ask your daughter Phoebe who gave her those gloves.  Phoebe,
+who gave you those gloves?"
+
+"I wish they were burnt," said the husband, whose patience could endure
+no longer.  "Who gave you those cursed gloves, Phoebe?"
+
+"Papa," answered Phoebe, in a low voice, "they were a present from Mr.
+Brian O'Neill."
+
+"The Irish glover!" cried Mr. Hill, with a look of terror.
+
+"Yes," resumed the mother; "very true, Mr. Hill, I assure you.  Now, you
+see, I had my reasons."
+
+"Take off the gloves directly: I order you, Phoebe," said her father, in
+his most peremptory tone.  "I took a mortal dislike to that Mr. Brian
+O'Neill the first time I ever saw him.  He's an Irishman, and that's
+enough, and too much for me.  Off with the gloves, Phoebe!  When I order
+a thing, it must be done."
+
+Phoebe seemed to find some difficulty in getting off the gloves, and
+gently urged that she could not well go into the cathedral without them.
+This objection was immediately removed by her mother's pulling from her
+pocket a pair of mittens, which had once been brown, and once been whole,
+but which were now rent in sundry places; and which, having been long
+stretched by one who was twice the size of Phoebe, now hung in huge
+wrinkles upon her well-turned arms.
+
+"But, papa," said Phoebe, "why should we take a dislike to him because he
+is an Irishman?  Cannot an Irishman be a good man?"
+
+The verger made no answer to this question, but a few seconds after it
+was put to him observed that the cathedral bell had just done ringing;
+and, as they were now got to the church door, Mrs. Hill, with a
+significant look at Phoebe, remarked that it was no proper time to talk
+or think of good men, or bad men, or Irishmen, or any men, especially for
+a verger's daughter.
+
+We pass over in silence the many conjectures that were made by several of
+the congregation concerning the reason why Miss Phoebe Hill should appear
+in such a shameful shabby pair of gloves on a Sunday.  After service was
+ended, the verger went, with great mystery, to examine the hole under the
+foundation of the cathedral; and Mrs. Hill repaired, with the grocer's
+and the stationer's ladies, to take a walk in the Close, where she
+boasted to all her female acquaintance, whom she called her friends, of
+her maternal discretion in prevailing upon Mr. Hill to forbid her
+daughter Phoebe to wear the Limerick gloves.
+
+In the meantime, Phoebe walked pensively homewards, endeavouring to
+discover why her father should take a mortal dislike to a man at first
+sight, merely because he was an Irishman: and why her mother had talked
+so much of the great dog which had been lost last year out of the tan-
+yard; and of the hole under the foundation of the cathedral!  "What has
+all this to do with my Limerick gloves?" thought she.  The more she
+thought, the less connection she could perceive between these things: for
+as she had not taken a dislike to Mr. Brian O'Neill at first sight,
+because he was an Irishman, she could not think it quite reasonable to
+suspect him of making away with her father's dog, nor yet of a design to
+blow up Hereford Cathedral.  As she was pondering upon these matters, she
+came within sight of the ruins of a poor woman's house, which a few
+months before this time had been burnt down.  She recollected that her
+first acquaintance with her lover began at the time of this fire; and she
+thought that the courage and humanity he showed, in exerting himself to
+save this unfortunate woman and her children, justified her notion of the
+possibility that an Irishman might be a good man.
+
+The name of the poor woman whose house had been burnt down was Smith: she
+was a widow, and she now lived at the extremity of a narrow lane in a
+wretched habitation.  Why Phoebe thought of her with more concern than
+usual at this instant we need not examine, but she did; and, reproaching
+herself for having neglected it for some weeks past, she resolved to go
+directly to see the widow Smith, and to give her a crown which she had
+long had in her pocket, with which she had intended to have bought play
+tickets.
+
+It happened that the first person she saw in the poor widow's kitchen was
+the identical Mr. O'Neill.  "I did not expect to see anybody here but
+you, Mrs. Smith," said Phoebe, blushing.
+
+"So much the greater the pleasure of the meeting; to me, I mean, Miss
+Hill," said O'Neill, rising, and putting down a little boy, with whom he
+had been playing.  Phoebe went on talking to the poor woman; and, after
+slipping the crown into her hand, said she would call again.  O'Neill,
+surprised at the change in her manner, followed her when she left the
+house, and said, "It would be a great misfortune to me to have done
+anything to offend Miss Hill, especially if I could not conceive how or
+what it was, which is my case at this present speaking."  And as the
+spruce glover spoke, he fixed his eyes upon Phoebe's ragged gloves.  She
+drew them up in vain; and then said, with her natural simplicity and
+gentleness, "You have not done anything to offend me, Mr. O'Neill; but
+you are some way or other displeasing to my father and mother, and they
+have forbid me to wear the Limerick gloves."
+
+"And sure Miss Hill would not be after changing her opinion of her humble
+servant for no reason in life but because her father and mother, who have
+taken a prejudice against him, are a little contrary."
+
+"No," replied Phoebe; "I should not change my opinion without any reason;
+but I have not yet had time to fix my opinion of you, Mr. O'Neill."
+
+"To let you know a piece of my mind, then, my dear Miss Hill," resumed
+he, "the more contrary they are, the more pride and joy it would give me
+to win and wear you, in spite of 'em all; and if without a farthing in
+your pocket, so much the more I should rejoice in the opportunity of
+proving to your dear self, and all else whom it may consarn, that Brian
+O'Neill is no fortune-hunter, and scorns them that are so narrow-minded
+as to think that no other kind of cattle but them there fortune-hunters
+can come out of all Ireland.  So, my dear Phoebe, now we understand one
+another, I hope you will not be paining my eyes any longer with the sight
+of these odious brown bags, which are not fit to be worn by any Christian
+arms, to say nothing of Miss Hill's, which are the handsomest, without
+any compliment, that ever I saw, and, to my mind, would become a pair of
+Limerick gloves beyond anything: and I expect she'll show her generosity
+and proper spirit by putting them on immediately."
+
+"You expect, sir!" repeated Miss Hill, with a look of more indignation
+than her gentle countenance had ever before been seen to assume.
+"Expect!"  "If he had said hope," thought she, "it would have been
+another thing: but expect! what right has he to expect?"
+
+Now Miss Hill, unfortunately, was not sufficiently acquainted with the
+Irish idiom to know that to expect, in Ireland, is the same thing as to
+hope in England; and, when her Irish admirer said "I expect," he meant
+only, in plain English, "I hope."  But thus it is that a poor Irishman,
+often, for want of understanding the niceties of the English language,
+says the rudest when he means to say the civillest things imaginable.
+
+Miss Hill's feelings were so much hurt by this unlucky "I expect" that
+the whole of his speech, which had before made some favourable impression
+upon her, now lost its effect: and she replied with proper spirit, as she
+thought, "You expect a great deal too much, Mr. O'Neill; and more than
+ever I gave you reason to do.  It would be neither pleasure nor pride to
+me to be won and worn, as you were pleased to say, in spite of them all;
+and to be thrown, without a farthing in my pocket, upon the protection of
+one who expects so much at first setting out.--So I assure you, sir,
+whatever you may expect, I shall not put on the Limerick gloves."
+
+Mr. O'Neill was not without his share of pride and proper spirit; nay, he
+had, it must be confessed, in common with some others of his countrymen,
+an improper share of pride and spirit.  Fired by the lady's coldness, he
+poured forth a volley of reproaches; and ended by wishing, as he said, a
+good morning, for ever and ever, to one who could change her opinion,
+point blank, like the weathercock.  "I am, miss, your most obedient; and
+I expect you'll never think no more of poor Brian O'Neill and the
+Limerick gloves."
+
+If he had not been in too great a passion to observe anything, poor Brian
+O'Neill would have found out that Phoebe was not a weathercock: but he
+left her abruptly, and hurried away, imagining all the while that it was
+Phoebe, and not himself, who was in a rage.  Thus, to the horseman who is
+galloping at full speed, the hedges, trees, and houses seem rapidly to
+recede, whilst, in reality, they never move from their places.  It is he
+that flies from them, and not they from him.
+
+On Monday morning Miss Jenny Brown, the perfumer's daughter, came to pay
+Phoebe a morning visit, with face of busy joy.
+
+"So, my dear!" said she: "fine doings in Hereford!  But what makes you
+look so downcast?  To be sure you are invited, as well as the rest of
+us."
+
+"Invited where?" cried Mrs. Hill, who was present, and who could never
+endure to hear of an invitation in which she was not included.  "Invited
+where, pray, Miss Jenny?"
+
+"La! have not you heard?  Why, we all took it for granted that you and
+Miss Phoebe would have been the first and foremost to have been asked to
+Mr. O'Neill's ball."
+
+"Ball!" cried Mrs. Hill; and luckily saved Phoebe, who was in some
+agitation, the trouble of speaking.  "Why, this is a mighty sudden thing:
+I never heard a tittle of it before."
+
+"Well, this is really extraordinary!  And, Phoebe, have you not received
+a pair of Limerick gloves?"
+
+"Yes, I have," said Phoebe, "but what then?  What have my Limerick gloves
+to do with the ball?"
+
+"A great deal," replied Jenny.  "Don't you know that a pair of Limerick
+gloves is, as one may say, a ticket to this ball? for every lady that has
+been asked has had a pair sent to her along with the card; and I believe
+as many as twenty, besides myself, have been asked this morning."
+
+Jenny then produced her new pair of Limerick gloves, and as she tried
+them on, and showed how well they fitted, she counted up the names of the
+ladies who, to her knowledge, were to be at this ball.  When she had
+finished the catalogue, she expatiated upon the grand preparations which
+it was said the widow O'Neill, Mr. O'Neill's mother, was making for the
+supper, and concluded by condoling with Mrs. Hill for her misfortune in
+not having been invited.  Jenny took her leave to get her dress in
+readiness: "for," added she, "Mr. O'Neill has engaged me to open the ball
+in case Phoebe does not go; but I suppose she will cheer up and go, as
+she has a pair of Limerick gloves as well as the rest of us."
+
+There was a silence for some minutes after Jenny's departure, which was
+broken by Phoebe, who told her mother that, early in the morning, a note
+had been brought to her, which she had returned unopened, because she
+knew, from the handwriting of the direction, that it came from Mr.
+O'Neill.
+
+We must observe that Phoebe had already told her mother of her meeting
+with this gentleman at the poor widow's, and of all that had passed
+between them afterwards.  This openness on her part had softened the
+heart of Mrs. Hill, who was really inclined to be good-natured, provided
+people would allow that she had more penetration than any one else in
+Hereford.  She was, moreover, a good deal piqued and alarmed by the idea
+that the perfumer's daughter might rival and outshine her own.  Whilst
+she had thought herself sure of Mr. O'Neill's attachment to Phoebe, she
+had looked higher, especially as she was persuaded by the perfumer's lady
+to think that an Irishman could not but be a bad match; but now she began
+to suspect that the perfumer's lady had changed her opinion of Irishmen,
+since she did not object to her own Jenny's leading up the ball at Mr.
+O'Neill's.
+
+All these thoughts passed rapidly in the mother's mind, and, with her
+fear of losing an admirer for her Phoebe, the value of that admirer
+suddenly rose in her estimation.  Thus, at an auction, if a lot is going
+to be knocked down to a lady who is the only person that has bid for it,
+even she feels discontented, and despises that which nobody covets; but
+if, as the hammer is falling, many voices answer to the question, "Who
+bids more?" then her anxiety to secure the prize suddenly rises, and,
+rather than be outbid, she will give far beyond its value.
+
+"Why, child," said Mrs. Hill, "since you have a pair of Limerick gloves;
+and since certainly that note was an invitation to us to this ball; and
+since it is much more fitting that you should open the ball than Jenny
+Brown; and since, after all, it was very handsome and genteel of the
+young man to say he would take you without a farthing in your pocket,
+which shows that those were misinformed who talked of him as an Irish
+adventurer; and since we are not certain 'twas he made away with the dog,
+although he said its barking was a great nuisance; there is no great
+reason to suppose he was the person who made the hole under the
+foundation of the cathedral, or that he could have such a wicked thought
+as to blow it up; and since he must be in a very good way of business to
+be able to afford giving away four or five guineas' worth of Limerick
+gloves, and balls and suppers; and since, after all, it is no fault of
+his to be an Irishman, I give it as my vote and opinion, my dear, that
+you put on your Limerick gloves and go to this ball; and I'll go and
+speak to your father, and bring him round to our opinion, and then I'll
+pay the morning visit I owe to the widow O'Neill and make up your quarrel
+with Brian.  Love quarrels are easy to make up, you know, and then we
+shall have things all upon velvet again, and Jenny Brown need not come
+with her hypocritical condoling face to us any more."
+
+After running this speech glibly off, Mrs. Hill, without waiting to hear
+a syllable from poor Phoebe, trotted off in search of her consort.  It
+was not, however, quite so easy a task as his wife expected, to bring Mr.
+Hill round to her opinion.  He was slow in declaring himself of any
+opinion; but when once he had said a thing, there was but little chance
+of altering his notions.  On this occasion Mr. Hill was doubly bound to
+his prejudice against our unlucky Irishman; for he had mentioned with
+great solemnity at the club which he frequented the grand affair of the
+hole under the foundation of the cathedral, and his suspicions that there
+was a design to blow it up.  Several of the club had laughed at this
+idea; others, who supposed that Mr. O'Neill was a Roman Catholic, and who
+had a confused notion that a Roman Catholic must be a very wicked,
+dangerous being, thought that there might be a great deal in the verger's
+suggestions, and observed that a very watchful eye ought to be kept upon
+this Irish glover, who had come to settle at Hereford nobody knew why,
+and who seemed to have money at command nobody knew how.
+
+The news of this ball sounded to Mr. Hill's prejudiced imagination like
+the news of a conspiracy.  "Ay! ay!" thought he; "the Irishman is cunning
+enough!  But we shall be too many for him: he wants to throw all the good
+sober folks of Hereford off their guard by feasting, and dancing, and
+carousing, I take it, and so to perpetrate his evil design when it is
+least suspected; but we shall be prepared for him, fools as he takes us
+plain Englishmen to be, I warrant."
+
+In consequence of these most shrewd cogitations, our verger silenced his
+wife with a peremptory nod when she came to persuade him to let Phoebe
+put on the Limerick gloves and go to the ball.  "To this ball she shall
+not go, and I charge her not to put on those Limerick gloves as she
+values my blessing," said Mr. Hill.  "Please to tell her so, Mrs. Hill,
+and trust to my judgment and discretion in all things, Mrs. Hill.  Strange
+work may be in Hereford yet: but I'll say no more; I must go and consult
+with knowing men who are of my opinion."
+
+He sallied forth, and Mrs. Hill was left in a state which only those who
+are troubled with the disease of excessive curiosity can rightly
+comprehend or compassionate.  She hied her back to Phoebe, to whom she
+announced her father's answer, and then went gossiping to all her female
+acquaintance in Hereford, to tell them all that she knew, and all that
+she did not know, and to endeavour to find out a secret where there was
+none to be found.
+
+There are trials of temper in all conditions, and no lady, in high or low
+life, could endure them with a better grace than Phoebe.  Whilst Mr. and
+Mrs. Hill were busied abroad, there came to see Phoebe one of the widow
+Smith's children.  With artless expressions of gratitude to Phoebe this
+little girl mixed the praises of O'Neill, who, she said, had been the
+constant friend of her mother, and had given her money every week since
+the fire happened.  "Mammy loves him dearly for being so good-natured,"
+continued the child; "and he has been good to other people as well as to
+us."
+
+"To whom?" said Phoebe.
+
+"To a poor man who has lodged for these few days past next door to us,"
+replied the child; "I don't know his name rightly, but he is an Irishman,
+and he goes out a-haymaking in the daytime along with a number of others.
+He knew Mr. O'Neill in his own country, and he told mammy a great deal
+about his goodness."
+
+As the child finished these words, Phoebe took out of a drawer some
+clothes, which she had made for the poor woman's children, and gave them
+to the little girl.  It happened that the Limerick gloves had been thrown
+into this drawer; and Phoebe's favourable sentiments of the giver of
+those gloves were revived by what she had just heard, and by the
+confession Mrs. Hill had made, that she had no reasons, and but vague
+suspicious, for thinking ill of him.  She laid the gloves perfectly
+smooth, and strewed over them, whilst the little girl went on talking of
+Mr. O'Neill, the leaves of a rose which she had worn on Sunday.
+
+Mr. Hill was all this time in deep conference with those prudent men of
+Hereford who were of his own opinion, about the perilous hole under the
+cathedral.  The ominous circumstance of this ball was also considered,
+the great expense at which the Irish glover lived, and his giving away
+gloves, which was a sure sign he was not under any necessity to sell
+them, and consequently a proof that, though he pretended to be a glover,
+he was something wrong in disguise.  Upon putting all these things
+together, it was resolved by these over-wise politicians that the best
+thing that could be done for Hereford, and the only possible means of
+preventing the immediate destruction of its cathedral, would be to take
+Mr. O'Neill into custody.  Upon recollection, however, it was perceived
+that there was no legal ground on which he could be attacked.  At length,
+after consulting an attorney, they devised what they thought an admirable
+mode of proceeding.
+
+Our Irish hero had not that punctuality which English tradesmen usually
+observe in the payment of bills; he had, the preceding year, run up a
+long bill with a grocer in Hereford, and, as he had not at Christmas cash
+in hand to pay it, he had given a note, payable six months after date.
+The grocer, at Mr. Hill's request, made over the note to him, and it was
+determined that the money should be demanded, as it was now due, and
+that, if it was not paid directly, O'Neill should be that night arrested.
+How Mr. Hill made the discovery of this debt to the grocer agree with his
+former notion that the Irish glover had always money at command we cannot
+well conceive, but anger and prejudice will swallow down the grossest
+contradictions without difficulty.
+
+When Mr. Hill's clerk went to demand payment of the note, O'Neill's head
+was full of the ball which he was to give that evening.  He was much
+surprised at the unexpected appearance of the note: he had not ready
+money by him to pay it; and after swearing a good deal at the clerk, and
+complaining of this ungenerous and ungentleman-like behaviour in the
+grocer and the tanner, he told the clerk to be gone, and not to be
+bothering him at such an unseasonable time: that he could not have the
+money then, and did not deserve to have it at all.
+
+This language and conduct were rather new to the English clerk's
+mercantile ears: we cannot wonder that it should seem to him, as he said
+to his master, more the language of a madman than a man of business.  This
+want of punctuality in money transactions, and this mode of treating
+contracts as matters of favour and affection, might not have damned the
+fame of our hero in his own country, where such conduct is, alas! too
+common; but he was now in a kingdom where the manners and customs are so
+directly opposite, that he could meet with no allowance for his national
+faults.  It would be well for his countrymen if they were made, even by a
+few mortifications, somewhat sensible of this important difference in the
+habits of Irish and English traders before they come to settle in
+England.
+
+But to proceed with our story.  On the night of Mr. O'Neill's grand ball,
+as he was seeing his fair partner, the perfumer's daughter, safe home, he
+felt himself tapped on the shoulder by no friendly hand.  When he was
+told that he was the king's prisoner, he vociferated with sundry strange
+oaths, which we forbear to repeat.  "No, I am not the king's prisoner!  I
+am the prisoner of that shabby, rascally tanner, Jonathan Hill.  None but
+he would arrest a gentleman in this way, for a trifle not worth
+mentioning."
+
+Miss Jenny Brown screamed when she found herself under the protection of
+a man who was arrested; and, what between her screams and his oaths,
+there was such a disturbance that a mob gathered.
+
+Among this mob there was a party of Irish haymakers, who, after returning
+late from a hard day's work, had been drinking in a neighbouring
+ale-house.  With one accord they took part with their countryman, and
+would have rescued him from the civil officers with all the pleasure in
+life if he had not fortunately possessed just sufficient sense and
+command of himself to restrain their party spirit, and to forbid them, as
+they valued his life and reputation, to interfere, by word or deed, in
+his defence.
+
+He then despatched one of the haymakers home to his mother, to inform her
+of what had happened, and to request that she would get somebody to be
+bail for him as soon as possible, as the officers said they could not let
+him out of their sight till he was bailed by substantial people, or till
+the debt was discharged.
+
+The widow O'Neill was just putting out the candles in the ball-room when
+this news of her son's arrest was brought to her.  We pass over Hibernian
+exclamations: she consoled her pride by reflecting that it would
+certainly be the most easy thing imaginable to procure bail for Mr.
+O'Neill in Hereford, where he had so many friends who had just been
+dancing at his house; but to dance at his house she found was one thing
+and to be bail for him quite another.  Each guest sent excuses, and the
+widow O'Neill was astonished at what never fails to astonish everybody
+when it happens to themselves.  "Rather than let my son be detained in
+this manner for a paltry debt," cried she, "I'd sell all I have within
+half an hour to a pawnbroker."  It was well no pawnbroker heard this
+declaration: she was too warm to consider economy.  She sent for a
+pawnbroker, who lived in the same street, and, after pledging goods to
+treble the amount of the debt, she obtained ready money for her son's
+release.
+
+O'Neill, after being in custody for about an hour and a half, was set at
+liberty upon the payment of his debt.  As he passed by the cathedral in
+his way home, he heard the clock strike; and he called to a man, who was
+walking backwards and forwards in the churchyard, to ask whether it was
+two or three that the clock struck.  "Three," answered the man; "and, as
+yet, all is safe."
+
+O'Neill, whose head was full of other things, did not stop to inquire the
+meaning of these last words.  He little suspected that this man was a
+watchman whom the over-vigilant verger had stationed there to guard the
+Hereford Cathedral from his attacks.  O'Neill little guessed that he had
+been arrested merely to keep him from blowing up the cathedral this
+night.  The arrest had an excellent effect upon his mind, for he was a
+young man of good sense: it made him resolve to retrench his expenses in
+time, to live more like a glover and less like a gentleman; and to aim
+more at establishing credit, and less at gaining popularity.  He found,
+from experience, that good friends will not pay bad debts.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+On Thursday morning our verger rose in unusually good spirits,
+congratulating himself upon the eminent service he had done to the city
+of Hereford by his sagacity in discovering the foreign plot to blow up
+the Cathedral, and by his dexterity in having the enemy held in custody,
+at the very hour when the dreadful deed was to have been perpetrated.  Mr.
+Hill's knowing friends farther agreed it would be necessary to have a
+guard that should sit up every night in the churchyard; and that as soon
+as they could, by constantly watching the enemy's motions, procure any
+information which the attorney should deem sufficient grounds for a legal
+proceeding, they should lay the whole business before the mayor.
+
+After arranging all this most judiciously and mysteriously with friends
+who were exactly of his own opinion, Mr. Hill laid aside his dignity of
+verger, and assuming his other character of a tanner, proceeded to his
+tan-yard.  What was his surprise and consternation, when he beheld his
+great rick of oak bark levelled to the ground; the pieces of bark were
+scattered far and wide, some over the close, some over the fields, and
+some were seen swimming upon the water!  No tongue, no pen, no muse can
+describe the feelings of our tanner at this spectacle--feelings which
+became the more violent from the absolute silence which he imposed on
+himself upon this occasion.  He instantly decided in his own mind that
+this injury was perpetrated by O'Neill, in revenge for his arrest; and
+went privately to the attorney to inquire what was to be done, on his
+part, to secure legal vengeance.
+
+The attorney unluckily--or at least, as Mr. Hill thought, unluckily--had
+been sent for, half an hour before, by a gentleman at some distance from
+Hereford, to draw up a will: so that our tanner was obliged to postpone
+his legal operations.
+
+We forbear to recount his return, and how many times he walked up and
+down the close to view his scattered bark, and to estimate the damage
+that had been done to him.  At length that hour came which usually
+suspends all passions by the more imperious power of appetite--the hour
+of dinner: an hour of which it was never needful to remind Mr. Hill by
+watch, clock, or dial; for he was blessed with a punctual appetite, and
+powerful as punctual: so powerful, indeed, that it often excited the
+spleen of his more genteel or less hungry wife.  "Bless my stars!  Mr.
+Hill," she would oftentimes say, "I am really downright ashamed to see
+you eat so much; and when company is to dine with us, I do wish you would
+take a snack by way of a damper before dinner, that you may not look so
+prodigious famishing and ungenteel."
+
+Upon this hint, Mr. Hill commenced a practice, to which he ever
+afterwards religiously adhered, of going, whether there was to be company
+or no company, into the kitchen regularly every day, half an hour before
+dinner, to take a slice from the roast or the boiled before it went up to
+table.  As he was this day, according to his custom, in the kitchen,
+taking his snack by way of a damper, he heard the housemaid and the cook
+talking about some wonderful fortune-teller, whom the housemaid had been
+consulting.  This fortune-teller was no less a personage than the
+successor to Bampfylde Moore Carew, king of the gipsies, whose life and
+adventures are probably in many, too many, of our readers' hands.
+Bampfylde, the second king of the gipsies, assumed this title, in hopes
+of becoming as famous, or as infamous, as his predecessor: he was now
+holding his court in a wood near the town of Hereford, and numbers of
+servant-maids and 'prentices went to consult him--nay, it was whispered
+that he was resorted to, secretly, by some whose education might have
+taught them better sense.
+
+Numberless were the instances which our verger heard in his kitchen of
+the supernatural skill of this cunning man; and whilst Mr. Hill ate his
+snack with his wonted gravity, he revolved great designs in his secret
+soul.  Mrs. Hill was surprised, several times during dinner, to see her
+consort put down his knife and fork, and meditate.  "Gracious me, Mr.
+Hill! what can have happened to you this day?  What can you be thinking
+of, Mr. Hill, that can make you forget what you have upon your plate?"
+
+"Mrs. Hill," replied the thoughtful verger, "our grandmother Eve had too
+much curiosity; and we all know it did not lead to good.  What I am
+thinking of will be known to you in due time, but not now, Mrs. Hill;
+therefore, pray, no questions, or teasing, or pumping.  What I think, I
+think; what I say, I say; what I know, I know; and that is enough for you
+to know at present: only this, Phoebe, you did very well not to put on
+the Limerick gloves, child.  What I know, I know.  Things will turn out
+just as I said from the first.  What I say, I say; and what I think, I
+think; and this is enough for you to know at present."
+
+Having finished dinner with this solemn speech, Mr. Hill settled himself
+in his arm-chair, to take his after-dinner's nap: and he dreamed of
+blowing up cathedrals, and of oak bark floating upon the waters; and the
+cathedral was, he thought, blown up by a man dressed in a pair of woman's
+Limerick gloves, and the oak bark turned into mutton steaks, after which
+his great dog Jowler was swimming; when, all on a sudden, as he was going
+to beat Jowler for eating the bark transformed into mutton steaks, Jowler
+became Bampfylde the Second, king of the gipsies; and putting a horse-
+whip with a silver handle into Hill's hand, commanded him three times, in
+a voice as loud as the town-crier's, to have O'Neill whipped through the
+market-place of Hereford: but just as he was going to the window to see
+this whipping, his wig fell off, and he awoke.
+
+It was difficult, even for Mr. Hill's sagacity, to make sense of this
+dream: but he had the wise art of always finding in his dreams something
+that confirmed his waking determinations.  Before he went to sleep, he
+had half resolved to consult the king of the gipsies, in the absence of
+the attorney; and his dream made him now wholly determined upon this
+prudent step.  "From Bampfylde the Second," thought he, "I shall learn
+for certain who made the hole under the cathedral, who pulled down my
+rick of bark, and who made away with my dog Jowler; and then I shall
+swear examinations against O'Neill, without waiting for attorneys.  I
+will follow my own way in this business: I have always found my own way
+best."
+
+So, when the dusk of the evening increased, our wise man set out towards
+the wood to consult the cunning man.  Bampfylde the Second, king of the
+gipsies, resided in a sort of hut made of the branches of trees; the
+verger stooped, but did not stoop low enough, as he entered this
+temporary palace, and, whilst his body was almost bent double, his peruke
+was caught upon a twig.  From this awkward situation he was relieved by
+the consort of the king; and he now beheld, by the light of some embers,
+the person of his gipsy majesty, to whose sublime appearance this dim
+light was so favourable that it struck a secret awe into our wise man's
+soul; and, forgetting Hereford Cathedral, and oak bark, and Limerick
+gloves, he stood for some seconds speechless.  During this time, the
+queen very dexterously disencumbered his pocket of all superfluous
+articles.  When he recovered his recollection, he put with great
+solemnity the following queries to the king of the gipsies, and received
+the following answers:--
+
+"Do you know a dangerous Irishman of the name of O'Neill, who has come,
+for purposes best known to himself, to settle at Hereford?"
+
+"Yes, we know him well."
+
+"Indeed!  And what do you know of him?"
+
+"That he is a dangerous Irishman."
+
+"Right!  And it was he, was it not, that pulled down, or caused to be
+pulled down, my rick of oak bark?"
+
+"It was."
+
+"And who was it that made away with my dog Jowler, that used to guard the
+tan-yard?"
+
+"It was the person that you suspect."
+
+"And was it the person whom I suspect that made the hole under the
+foundation of our cathedral?"
+
+"The same, and no other."
+
+"And for what purpose did he make that hole?"
+
+"For a purpose that must not be named," replied the king of the gipsies,
+nodding his head in a mysterious manner.
+
+"But it may be named to me," cried the verger, "for I have found it out,
+and I am one of the vergers; and is it not fit that a plot to blow up the
+Hereford Cathedral should be known _to_ me, and _through_ me?"
+
+   "Now, take my word,
+   Wise men of Hereford,
+   None in safety may be,
+   Till the bad man doth flee."
+
+These oracular verses, pronounced by Bampfylde with all the enthusiasm of
+one who was inspired, had the desired effect upon our wise man; and he
+left the presence of the king of the gipsies with a prodigiously high
+opinion of his majesty's judgment and of his own, fully resolved to
+impart, the next morning, to the mayor of Hereford his important
+discoveries.
+
+Now it happened that, during the time Mr. Hill was putting the foregoing
+queries to Bampfylde the Second, there came to the door or entrance of
+the audience chamber an Irish haymaker who wanted to consult the cunning
+man about a little leathern purse which he had lost whilst he was making
+hay in a field near Hereford.  This haymaker was the same person who, as
+we have related, spoke so advantageously of our hero O'Neill to the widow
+Smith.  As this man, whose name was Paddy M'Cormack, stood at the
+entrance of the gipsies' hut, his attention was caught by the name of
+O'Neill; and he lost not a word of all that pasted.  He had reason to be
+somewhat surprised at hearing Bampfylde assert it was O'Neill who had
+pulled down the rick of bark.  "By the holy poker!" said he to himself,
+"the old fellow now is out there.  I know more o' that matter than he
+does--no offence to his majesty; he knows no more of my purse, I'll
+engage now, than he does of this man's rick of bark and his dog: so I'll
+keep my tester in my pocket, and not be giving it to this king o' the
+gipsies, as they call him: who, as near as I can guess, is no better than
+a cheat.  But there is one secret which I can be telling this conjuror
+himself: he shall not find it such an easy matter to do all what he
+thinks; he shall not be after ruining an innocent countryman of my own
+whilst Paddy M'Cormack has a tongue and brains."
+
+Now, Paddy M'Cormack had the best reason possible for knowing that Mr.
+O'Neill did not pull down Mr. Hill's rick of bark; it was M'Cormack
+himself who, in the heat of his resentment for the insulting arrest of
+his countryman in the streets of Hereford, had instigated his fellow
+haymakers to this mischief; he headed them, and thought he was doing a
+clever, spirited action.
+
+There is a strange mixture of virtue and vice in the minds of the lower
+class of Irish: or rather, a strange confusion in their ideas of right
+and wrong, from want of proper education.  As soon as poor Paddy found
+out that his spirited action of pulling down the rick of bark was likely
+to be the ruin of his countryman, he resolved to make all the amends in
+his power for his folly--he went to collect his fellow haymakers, and
+persuaded them to assist him this night in rebuilding what they had
+pulled down.
+
+They went to this work when everybody except themselves, as they thought,
+was asleep in Hereford.  They had just completed the stack, and were all
+going away except Paddy, who was seated at the very top, finishing the
+pile, when they heard a loud voice cry out, "Here they are!  Watch!
+Watch!"
+
+Immediately all the haymakers who could, ran off as fast as possible.  It
+was the watch who had been sitting up at the cathedral who gave the
+alarm.  Paddy was taken from the top of the rick and lodged in the watch-
+house till morning.  "Since I'm to be rewarded this way for doing a good
+action, sorrow take me," said he, "if they catch me doing another the
+longest day ever I live."
+
+Happy they who have in their neighbourhood such a magistrate as Mr.
+Marshal!  He was a man who, to an exact knowledge of the duties of his
+office, joined the power of discovering truth from the midst of
+contradictory evidence, and the happy art of soothing or laughing the
+angry passions into good-humour.  It was a common saying in Hereford that
+no one ever came out of Justice Marshal's house as angry as he went into
+it.
+
+Mr. Marshal had scarcely breakfasted when he was informed that Mr. Hill,
+the verger, wanted to speak to him on business of the utmost importance.
+Mr. Hill, the verger, was ushered in; and, with gloomy solemnity, took a
+seat opposite to Mr. Marshal.
+
+"Sad doings in Hereford, Mr. Marshal!  Sad doings, sir."
+
+"Sad doings?  Why, I was told we had merry doings in Hereford.  A ball
+the night before last, as I heard."
+
+"So much the worse, Mr. Marshal--so much the worse: as those think with
+reason that see as far into things as I do."
+
+"So much the better, Mr. Hill," said Mr. Marshal, laughing, "so much the
+better: as those think with reason that see no farther into things than I
+do."
+
+"But, sir," said the verger, still more solemnly, "this is no laughing
+matter, nor time for laughing, begging your pardon.  Why, sir, the night
+of that there diabolical ball our Hereford Cathedral, sir, would have
+been blown up--blown up from the foundation, if it had not been for me,
+sir!"
+
+"Indeed, Mr. Verger!  And pray how, and by whom, was the cathedral to be
+blown up? and what was there diabolical in this ball?"
+
+Here Mr. Hill let Mr. Marshal into the whole history of his early dislike
+to O'Neill, and his shrewd suspicions of him the first moment he saw him
+in Hereford: related in the most prolix manner all that the reader knows
+already, and concluded by saying that, as he was now certain of his
+facts, he was come to swear examinations against this villanous Irishman,
+who, he hoped, would be speedily brought to justice, as he deserved.
+
+"To justice he shall be brought, as he deserves," said Mr. Marshal; "but
+before I write, and before you swear, will you have the goodness to
+inform me how you have made yourself as certain, as you evidently are, of
+what you call your facts?"
+
+"Sir, that is a secret," replied our wise man, "which I shall trust to
+you alone;" and he whispered into Mr. Marshal's ear that, his information
+came from Bampfylde the Second, king of the gipsies.
+
+Mr. Marshal instantly burst into laughter; then composing himself, said:
+"My good sir, I am really glad that you have proceeded no farther in this
+business; and that no one in Hereford, beside myself, knows that you were
+on the point of swearing examinations against a man on the evidence of
+Bampfylde the Second, king of the gipsies.  My dear sir, it would be a
+standing joke against you to the end of your days.  A grave man like Mr.
+Hill! and a verger too!  Why you would be the laughing-stock of
+Hereford!"
+
+Now Mr. Marshal well knew the character of the man to whom he was
+talking, who, above all things on earth, dreaded to be laughed at.  Mr.
+Hill coloured all over his face, and, pushing back his wig by way of
+settling it, showed that he blushed not only all over his face, but all
+over his head.
+
+"Why, Mr. Marshal, sir," said he, "as to my being laughed at, it is what
+I did not look for, being, as there are, some men in Hereford to whom I
+have mentioned that hole in the cathedral, who have thought it no
+laughing matter, and who have been precisely of my own opinion
+thereupon."
+
+"But did you tell these gentlemen that you had been consulting the king
+of the gipsies?"
+
+"No, sir, no: I can't say that I did."
+
+"Then I advise you, keep your own counsel, as I will."
+
+Mr. Hill, whose imagination wavered between the hole in the cathedral and
+his rick of bark on one side, and between his rick of bark and his dog
+Jowler on the other, now began to talk of the dog, and now of the rick of
+bark; and when he had exhausted all he had to say upon these subjects,
+Mr. Marshal gently pulled him towards the window, and putting a spy-glass
+into his hand, bade him look towards his own tan-yard, and tell him what
+he saw.  To his great surprise, Mr. Hill saw his rick of bark re-built.
+"Why, it was not there last night," exclaimed he, rubbing his eyes.  "Why,
+some conjuror must have done this."
+
+"No," replied Mr. Marshal, "no conjuror did it: but your friend Bampfylde
+the Second, king of the gipsies, was the cause of its being re-built; and
+here is the man who actually pulled it down, and who actually re-built
+it."
+
+As he said these words Mr. Marshal opened the door of an adjoining room
+and beckoned to the Irish haymaker, who had been taken into custody about
+an hour before this time.  The watch who took Paddy had called at Mr.
+Hill's house to tell him what had happened, but Mr. Hill was not then at
+home.
+
+It was with much surprise that the verger heard the simple truth from
+this poor fellow; but no sooner was he convinced that O'Neill was
+innocent as to this affair, than he recurred to his other ground of
+suspicion, the loss of his dog.
+
+The Irish haymaker now stepped forward, and, with a peculiar twist of the
+hips and shoulders, which those only who have seen it can picture to
+themselves, said, "Plase your honour's honour, I have a little word to
+say too about the dog."
+
+"Say it, then," said Mr. Marshal.
+
+"Plase your honour, if I might expect to be forgiven, and let off for
+pulling down the jontleman's stack, I might be able to tell him what I
+know about the dog."
+
+"If you can tell me anything about my dog," said the tanner, "I will
+freely forgive you for pulling down the rick: especially as you have
+built it up again.  Speak the truth, now: did not O'Neill make away with
+the dog?"
+
+"Not at all, at all, plase your honour," replied the haymaker: "and the
+truth of the matter is, I know nothing of the dog, good or bad; but I
+know something of his collar, if your name, plase your honour, is Hill,
+as I take it to be."
+
+"My name is Hill: proceed," said the tanner, with great eagerness.  "You
+know something about the collar of my dog Jowler?"
+
+"Plase your honour, this much I know, any way, that it is now, or was the
+night before last, at the pawnbroker's there, below in town; for, plase
+your honour, I was sent late at night (that night that Mr. O'Neill, long
+life to him! was arrested) to the pawnbroker's for a Jew by Mrs. O'Neill,
+poor creature!  She was in great trouble that same time."
+
+"Very likely," interrupted Mr. Hill: "but go on to the collar; what of
+the collar?"
+
+"She sent me--I'll tell you the story, plase your honour, _out of the
+face_--she sent me to the pawnbroker's for the Jew; and, it being so late
+at night, the shop was shut, and it was with all the trouble in life that
+I got into the house any way: and, when I got in, there was none but a
+slip of a boy up; and he set down the light that he had in his hand, and
+ran up the stairs to waken his master: and, whilst he was gone, I just
+made bold to look round at what sort of a place I was in, and at the old
+clothes and rags and scraps; there was a sort of a frieze trusty."
+
+"A trusty!" said Mr. Hill; "what is that, pray?"
+
+"A big coat, sure, plase your honour: there was a frieze big coat lying
+in a corner, which I had my eye upon, to trate myself to: I having, as I
+then thought, money in my little purse enough for it.  Well, I won't
+trouble your honour's honour with telling of you now how I lost my purse
+in the field, as I found after; but about the big coat--as I was saying,
+I just lifted it off the ground to see would it fit me; and, as I swung
+it round, something, plase your honour, hit me a great knock on the
+shins: it was in the pocket of the coat, whatever it was, I knew; so I
+looks into the pocket to see what was it, plase your honour, and out I
+pulls a hammer and a dog-collar: it was a wonder, both together, they did
+not break my shins entirely: but it's no matter for my shins now; so,
+before the boy came down, I just out of idleness spelt out to myself the
+name that was upon the collar: there were two names, plase your honour,
+and out of the first there were so many letters hammered out I could make
+nothing of it at all, at all; but the other name was plain enough to
+read, any way, and it was Hill, plase your honour's honour, as sure as
+life: Hill, now."
+
+This story was related in tones and gestures which were so new and
+strange to English ears and eyes, that even the solemnity of our verger
+gave way to laughter.
+
+Mr. Marshal sent a summons for the pawnbroker, that he might learn from
+him how he came by the dog-collar.  The pawnbroker, when he found from
+Mr. Marshal that he could by no other means save himself from being
+committed to prison, confessed that the collar had been sold to him by
+Bampfylde the Second, king of the gipsies.
+
+A warrant was immediately despatched for his majesty; and Mr. Hill was a
+good deal alarmed by the fear of its being known in Hereford that he was
+on the point of swearing examinations against an innocent man upon the
+evidence of a dog-stealer and a gipsy.
+
+Bampfylde the Second made no sublime appearance when he was brought
+before Mr. Marshal, nor could all his astrology avail upon this occasion.
+The evidence of the pawnbroker was so positive as to the fact of his
+having sold to him the dog-collar, that there was no resource left for
+Bampfylde but an appeal to Mr. Hill's mercy.  He fell on his knees, and
+confessed that it was he who stole the dog, which used to bark at him at
+night so furiously, that he could not commit certain petty depredations
+by which, as much as by telling fortunes, he made his livelihood.
+
+"And so," said Mr. Marshal, with a sternness of manner which till now he
+had never shown, "to screen yourself, you accused an innocent man; and by
+your vile arts would have driven him from Hereford, and have set two
+families for ever at variance, to conceal that you had stolen a dog."
+
+The king of the gipsies was, without further ceremony, committed to the
+house of correction.  We should not omit to mention that, on searching
+his hat, the Irish haymaker's purse was found, which some of his
+majesty's train had emptied.  The whole set of gipsies decamped upon the
+news of the apprehension of their monarch.
+
+Mr. Hill stood in profound silence, leaning upon his walking-stick,
+whilst the committal was making out for Bampfylde the Second.  The fear
+of ridicule was struggling with the natural positiveness of his temper.
+He was dreadfully afraid that the story of his being taken in by the king
+of the gipsies would get abroad; and, at the same time, he was unwilling
+to give up his prejudice against the Irish glover.
+
+"But, Mr. Marshal," cried he, after a long silence, "the hole under the
+foundation of the cathedral has never been accounted for--that is, was,
+and ever will be, an ugly mystery to me; and I never can have a good
+opinion of this Irishman till it is cleared up, nor can I think the
+cathedral in safety."
+
+"What!" said Mr. Marshal, with an arch smile, "I suppose the verses of
+the oracle still work upon your imagination, Mr. Hill.  They are
+excellent in their kind.  I must have them by heart, that when I am asked
+the reason why Mr. Hill has taken an aversion to an Irish glover, I may
+be able to repeat them:--
+
+   "Now, take my word,
+   Wise men of Hereford,
+   None in safety may be,
+   Till the bad man doth flee."
+
+"You'll oblige me, sir," said the verger, "if you would never repeat
+those verses, sir, nor mention, in any company, the affair of the king of
+the gipsies."
+
+"I will oblige you," replied Mr. Marshal, "if you will oblige me.  Will
+you tell me honestly whether, now that you find this Mr. O'Neill is
+neither a dog-killer nor a puller-down of bark-ricks, you feel that you
+could forgive him for being an Irishman, if the mystery, as you call it,
+of the hole under the cathedral was cleared up?"
+
+"But that is not cleared up, I say, sir," cried Mr. Hill, striking his
+walking-stick forcibly upon the ground with both his hands.  "As to the
+matter of his being an Irishman, I have nothing to say to it; I am not
+saying anything about that, for I know we all are born where it pleases
+God, and an Irishman may be as good as another.  I know that much, Mr.
+Marshal, and I am not one of those illiberal-minded, ignorant people that
+cannot abide a man that was not born in England.  Ireland is now in his
+majesty's dominions.  I know very well, Mr. Marshal; and I have no manner
+of doubt, as I said before, that an Irishman born may be as good, almost,
+as an Englishman born."
+
+"I am glad," said Mr. Marshal, "to hear you speak--almost as reasonably
+as an Englishman born and every man ought to speak; and I am convinced
+that you have too much English hospitality to persecute an inoffensive
+stranger, who comes amongst us trusting to our justice and good nature."
+
+"I would not persecute a stranger, God forbid!" replied the verger, "if
+he was, as you say, inoffensive."
+
+"And if he was not only inoffensive, but ready to do every service in his
+power to those who are in want of his assistance, we should not return
+evil for good, should we?"
+
+"That would be uncharitable, to be sure; and, moreover, a scandal," said
+the verger.
+
+"Then," said Mr. Marshal, "will you walk with me as far as the Widow
+Smith's, the poor woman whose house was burnt last winter?  This
+haymaker, who lodged near her, can show us the way to her present abode."
+
+During his examination of Paddy M'Cormack, who would tell his whole
+history, as he called it, _out of the face_, Mr. Marshal heard several
+instances of the humanity and goodness of O'Neill, which Paddy related to
+excuse himself for that warmth of attachment to his cause that had been
+manifested so injudiciously by pulling down the rick of bark in revenge
+for the rest.  Amongst other things, Paddy mentioned his countryman's
+goodness to the Widow Smith.  Mr. Marshal was determined, therefore, to
+see whether he had, in this instance, spoken the truth; and he took Hill
+with him, in hopes of being able to show him the favourable side of
+O'Neill's character.
+
+Things turned out just as Mr. Marshal expected.  The poor widow and her
+family, in the most simple and affecting manner, described the distress
+from which they had been relieved by the good gentleman; and lady--the
+lady was Phoebe Hill; and the praises that were bestowed upon Phoebe were
+delightful to her father's ear, whose angry passions had now all
+subsided.
+
+The benevolent Mr. Marshal seized the moment when he saw Mr. Hill's heart
+was touched, and exclaimed, "I must be acquainted with this Mr. O'Neill.
+I am sure we people of Hereford ought to show some hospitality to a
+stranger who has so much humanity.  Mr. Hill, will you dine with him to-
+morrow at my house?"
+
+Mr. Hill was just going to accept of this invitation, when the
+recollection of all he had said to his club about the hole under the
+cathedral came across him, and, drawing Mr. Marshal aside, he whispered,
+"But, sir, sir, that affair of the hole under the cathedral has not been
+cleared up yet."
+
+At this instant the Widow Smith exclaimed, "Oh! here comes my little
+Mary" (one of her children, who came running in); "this is the little
+girl, sir, to whom the lady has been so good.  Make your curtsey, child.
+Where have you been all this while?"
+
+"Mammy," said the child, "I've been showing the lady my rat."
+
+"Lord bless her!  Gentlemen, the child has been wanting me this many a
+day to go to see this tame rat of hers; but I could never get time,
+never--and I wondered, too, at the child's liking such a creature.  Tell
+the gentlemen, dear, about your rat.  All I know is that, let her have
+but never such a tiny bit of bread for breakfast or supper, she saves a
+little of that little for this rat of hers; she and her brothers have
+found it out somewhere by the cathedral."
+
+"It comes out of a hole under the wall of the cathedral," said one of the
+older boys; "and we have diverted ourselves watching it, and sometimes we
+have put victuals for it--so it has grown, in a manner, tame-like."
+
+Mr. Hill and Mr. Marshal looked at one another during this speech; and
+the dread of ridicule again seized on Mr. Hill, when he apprehended that,
+after all he had said, the mountain might at last bring forth--a rat.  Mr.
+Marshal, who instantly saw what passed in the verger's mind, relieved him
+from this fear by refraining even from a smile on this occasion.  He only
+said to the child, in a grave manner, "I am afraid, my dear, we shall be
+obliged to spoil your diversion.  Mr. Verger, here, cannot suffer rat-
+holes in the cathedral; but, to make you amends for the loss of your
+favourite, I will give you a very pretty little dog, if you have a mind."
+
+The child was well pleased with this promise; and, at Mr. Marshal's
+desire, she then went along with him and Mr. Hill to the cathedral, and
+they placed themselves at a little distance from that hole which had
+created so much disturbance.  The child soon brought the dreadful enemy
+to light; and Mr. Hill, with a faint laugh, said, "I'm glad it's no
+worse, but there were many in our club who were of my opinion; and, if
+they had not suspected O'Neill too, I am sure I should never have given
+you so much trouble, sir, as I have done this morning.  But I hope, as
+the club know nothing about that vagabond, that king of the gipsies, you
+will not let any one know anything about the prophecy, and all that?  I
+am sure I am very sorry to have given you so much trouble, Mr. Marshal."
+
+Mr. Marshal assured him that he did not regret the time which he had
+spent in endeavouring to clear up all those mysteries and suspicions; and
+Mr. Hill gladly accepted his invitation to meet O'Neill at his house the
+next day.  No sooner had Mr. Marshal brought one of the parties to reason
+and good humour than he went to prepare the other for a reconciliation.
+O'Neill and his mother were both people of warm but forgiving tempers--the
+arrest was fresh in their minds; but when Mr. Marshal represented to them
+the whole affair, and the verger's prejudices, in a humorous light, they
+joined in the good-natured laugh; and O'Neill declared that, for his
+part, he was ready to forgive and to forget everything if he could but
+see Miss Phoebe in the Limerick gloves.
+
+Phoebe appeared the next day, at Mr. Marshal's, in the Limerick gloves;
+and no perfume ever was so delightful to her lover as the smell of the
+rose-leaves in which they had been kept.
+
+Mr. Marshal had the benevolent pleasure of reconciling the two families.
+The tanner and the glover of Hereford became, from bitter enemies, useful
+friends to each other; and they were convinced by experience that nothing
+could be more for their mutual advantage than to live in union.
+
+
+
+
+MADAME DE FLEURY
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+   "There oft are heard the notes of infant woe,
+   The short thick sob, loud scream, and shriller squall--
+   How can you, mothers, vex your infants so?"--POPE
+
+"D'abord, madame, c'est impossible!--Madame ne descendra pas ici?" said
+Francois, the footman of Madame de Fleury, with a half expostulatory,
+half indignant look, as he let down the step of her carriage at the
+entrance of a dirty passage, that led to one of the most
+miserable-looking houses in Paris.
+
+"But what can be the cause of the cries which I hear in this house?" said
+Madame de Fleury.
+
+"'Tis only some child who is crying," replied Francois; and he would have
+put up the step, but his lady was not satisfied.
+
+"'Tis nothing in the world," continued he, with a look of appeal to the
+coachman, "it _can_ be nothing, but some children who are locked up there
+above.  The mother, the workwoman my lady wants, is not at home: that's
+certain."
+
+"I must know the cause of these cries; I must see these children" said
+Madame de Fleury, getting out of her carriage.
+
+Francois held his arm for his lady as she got out.
+
+"Bon!" cried he, with an air of vexation.  "Si madame la vent absolument,
+a la bonne heure!--Mais madame sera abimee.  Madame verra que j'ai
+raison.  Madame ne montera jamais ce vilain escalier.  D'ailleurs c'est
+au cinquieme.  Mais, madame, c'est impossible."
+
+Notwithstanding the impossibility, Madame de Fleury proceeded; and
+bidding her talkative footman wait in the entry, made her way up the
+dark, dirty, broken staircase, the sound of the cries increasing every
+instant, till, as she reached the fifth storey, she heard the shrieks of
+one in violent pain.  She hastened to the door of the room from which the
+cries proceeded; the door was fastened, and the noise was so great that,
+though she knocked as loud as she was able, she could not immediately
+make herself heard.  At last the voice of a child from within answered,
+"The door is locked--mamma has the key in her pocket, and won't be home
+till night; and here's Victoire has tumbled from the top of the big
+press, and it is she that is shrieking so."
+
+Madame de Fleury ran down the stairs which she had ascended with so much
+difficulty, called to her footman, who was waiting in the entry,
+despatched him for a surgeon, and then she returned to obtain from some
+people who lodged in the house assistance to force open the door of the
+room in which the children were confined.
+
+On the next floor there was a smith at work, filing so earnestly that he
+did not hear the screams of the children.  When his door was pushed open,
+and the bright vision of Madame de Fleury appeared to him, his
+astonishment was so great that he seemed incapable of comprehending what
+she said.  In a strong provincial accent he repeated, "_Plait-il_?" and
+stood aghast till she had explained herself three times; then suddenly
+exclaiming, "Ah! c'est ca;"--he collected his tools precipitately, and
+followed to obey her orders.  The door of the room was at last forced
+half open, for a press that had been overturned prevented its opening
+entirely.  The horrible smells that issued did not overcome Madame de
+Fleury's humanity: she squeezed her way into the room, and behind the
+fallen press saw three little children: the youngest, almost an infant,
+ceased roaring, and ran to a corner; the eldest, a boy of about eight
+years old, whose face and clothes were covered with blood, held on his
+knee a girl younger than himself, whom he was trying to pacify, but who
+struggled most violently and screamed incessantly, regardless of Madame
+de Fleury, to whose questions she made no answer.
+
+"Where are you hurt, my dear?" repeated Madame de Fleury in a soothing
+voice.  "Only tell me where you feel pain?"
+
+The boy, showing his sister's arm, said, in a surly tone--"It is this
+that is hurt--but it was not I did it."
+
+"It was, it _was_!" cried the girl as loud as she could vociferate: "it
+was Maurice threw me down from the top of the press."
+
+"No--it was you that were pushing me, Victoire, and you fell
+backwards.--Have done screeching, and show your arm to the lady."
+
+"I can't," said the girl.
+
+"She won't," said the boy.
+
+"She cannot," said Madame de Fleury, kneeling down to examine it.  "She
+cannot move it; I am afraid that it is broken."
+
+"Don't touch it! don't touch it!" cried the girl, screaming more
+violently.
+
+"Ma'am, she screams that way for nothing often," said the boy.  "Her arm
+is no more broke than mine, I'm sure; she'll move it well enough when
+she's not cross."
+
+"I am afraid," said Madame de Fleury, "that her arm is broken."
+
+"Is it indeed?" said the boy, with a look of terror.
+
+"Oh! don't touch it--you'll kill me; you are killing me," screamed the
+poor girl, whilst Madame de Fleury with the greatest care endeavoured to
+join the bones in their proper place, and resolved to hold the arm till
+the arrival of the surgeon.
+
+From the feminine appearance of this lady, no stranger would have
+expected such resolution; but with all the natural sensibility and
+graceful delicacy of her sex, she had none of that weakness or affection
+which incapacitates from being useful in real distress.  In most sudden
+accidents, and in all domestic misfortunes, female resolution and
+presence of mind are indispensably requisite: safety, health, and life
+often depend upon the fortitude of women.  Happy they who, like Madame de
+Fleury, possess strength of mind united with the utmost gentleness of
+manner and tenderness of disposition!
+
+Soothed by this lady's sweet voice, the child's rage subsided; and no
+longer struggling, the poor little girl sat quietly on her lap, sometimes
+writhing and moaning with pain.
+
+The surgeon at length arrived: her arm was set: and he said "that she had
+probably been saved much future pain by Madame de Fleury's presence of
+mind."
+
+"Sir,--will it soon be well?" said Maurice to the surgeon.
+
+"Oh yes, very soon, I dare say," said the little girl.  "To-morrow,
+perhaps; for now that it is tied up it does not hurt me to signify--and
+after all, I do believe, Maurice, it was not you threw me down."
+
+As she spoke, she held up her face to kiss her brother.--"That is right,"
+said Madame de Fleury; "there is a good sister."
+
+The little girl put out her lips, offering a second kiss, but the boy
+turned hastily away to rub the tears from his eyes with the back of his
+hand.
+
+"I am not cross now: am I, Maurice?"
+
+"No, Victoire; I was cross myself when I said _that_."
+
+As Victoire was going to speak again, the surgeon imposed silence,
+observing that she must be put to bed, and should be kept quiet.  Madame
+de Fleury laid her upon the bed, as soon as Maurice had cleared it of the
+things with which it was covered; and as they were spreading the ragged
+blanket over the little girl, she whispered a request to Madame de Fleury
+that she would "stay till her mamma came home, to beg Maurice off from
+being whipped, if mamma should be angry."
+
+Touched by this instance of goodness, and compassionating the desolate
+condition of these children, Madame de Fleury complied with Victoire's
+request; resolving to remonstrate with their mother for leaving them
+locked up in this manner.  They did not know to what part of the town
+their mother was gone; they could tell only "that she was to go to a
+great many different places to carry back work, and to bring home more,
+and that she expected to be in by five."  It was now half after four.
+
+Whilst Madame de Fleury waited, she asked the boy to give her a full
+account of the manner in which the accident had happened.
+
+"Why, ma'am," said Maurice, twisting and untwisting a ragged handkerchief
+as he spoke, "the first beginning of all the mischief was, we had nothing
+to do, so we went to the ashes to make dirt pies; but Babet would go so
+close that she burnt her petticoat, and threw about all our ashes, and
+plagued us, and we whipped her.  But all would not do, she would not be
+quiet; so to get out of her reach, we climbed up by this chair on the
+table to the top of the press, and there we were well enough for a little
+while, till somehow we began to quarrel about the old scissors, and we
+struggled hard for them till I got this cut."
+
+Here he unwound the handkerchief, and for the first time showed the
+wound, which he had never mentioned before.
+
+"Then," continued he, "when I got the cut, I shoved Victoire, and she
+pushed at me again, and I was keeping her off, and her foot slipped, and
+down she fell, and caught by the press-door, and pulled it and me after
+her, and that's all I know."
+
+"It is well that you were not both killed," said Madame de Fleury.  "Are
+you often left locked up in this manner by yourselves, and without
+anything to do?"
+
+"Yes, always, when mamma is abroad, except sometimes we are let out upon
+the stairs or in the street; but mamma says we get into mischief there."
+
+This dialogue was interrupted by the return of the mother.  She came
+upstairs slowly, much fatigued, and with a heavy bundle under her arm.
+
+"How now!  Maurice, how comes my door open?  What's all this?" cried she,
+in an angry voice; but seeing a lady sitting upon her child's bed, she
+stopped short in great astonishment.  Madame de Fleury related what had
+happened, and averted her anger from Maurice by gently expostulating upon
+the hardship and hazard of leaving her young children in this manner
+during so many hours of the day.
+
+"Why, my lady," replied the poor woman, wiping her forehead, "every hard-
+working woman in Paris does the same with her children; and what can I do
+else?  I must earn bread for these helpless ones, and to do that I must
+be out backwards and forwards, and to the furthest parts of the town,
+often from morning till night, with those that employ me; and I cannot
+afford to send the children to school, or to keep any kind of a servant
+to look after them; and when I'm away, if I let them run about these
+stairs and entries, or go into the sheets, they do get a little exercise
+and air, to be sure, such as it is on which account I do let them out
+sometimes; but then a deal of mischief comes of that, too: they learn all
+kinds of wickedness, and would grow up to be no better than pickpockets,
+if they were let often to consort with the little vagabonds they find in
+the streets.  So what to do better for them I don't know."
+
+The poor mother sat down upon the fallen press, looked at Victoire, and
+wept bitterly.  Madame de Fleury was struck with compassion; but she did
+not satisfy her feelings merely by words or comfort or by the easy
+donation of some money--she resolved to do something more, and something
+better.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+   "Come often, then; for haply in my bower
+   Amusement, knowledge, wisdom, thou may'st gain:
+   If I one soul improve, I have not lived in vain."--BEATTIE.
+
+It is not so easy to do good as those who have never attempted it may
+imagine; and they who without consideration follow the mere instinct of
+pity, often by their imprudent generosity create evils more pernicious to
+society than any which they partially remedy.  "Warm Charity, the general
+friend," may become the general enemy, unless she consults her head as
+well as her heart.  Whilst she pleases herself with the idea that she
+daily feeds hundreds of the poor, she is perhaps preparing want and
+famine for thousands.  Whilst she delights herself with the anticipation
+of gratitude for her bounties, she is often exciting only unreasonable
+expectations, inducing habits of dependence and submission to slavery.
+
+Those who wish to do good should attend to experience, from whom they may
+receive lessons upon the largest scale that time and numbers can afford.
+
+Madame de Fleury was aware that neither a benevolent disposition nor a
+large fortune were sufficient to enable her to be of real service,
+without the constant exercise of her judgment.  She had, therefore,
+listened with deference to the conversation of well-informed men upon
+those subjects on which ladies have not always the means or the wish to
+acquire extensive and accurate knowledge.  Though a Parisian belle, she
+had read with attention some of those books which are generally thought
+too dry or too deep for her sex.  Consequently, her benevolence was
+neither wild in theory nor precipitate nor ostentatious in practice.
+
+Touched with compassion for a little girl whose arm had been accidentally
+broken, and shocked by the discovery of the confinement and the dangers
+to which numbers of children in Paris were doomed, she did not make a
+parade of her sensibility.  She did not talk of her feelings in fine
+sentences to a circle of opulent admirers, nor did she project for the
+relief of the little sufferers some magnificent establishment which she
+could not execute or superintend.  She was contented with attempting only
+what she had reasonable hopes of accomplishing.
+
+The gift of education she believed to be more advantageous than the gift
+of money to the poor, as it ensures the means both of future subsistence
+and happiness.  But the application even of this incontrovertible
+principle requires caution and judgment.  To crowd numbers of children
+into a place called a school, to abandon them to the management of any
+person called a schoolmaster or a schoolmistress, is not sufficient to
+secure the blessings of a good education.  Madame de Fleury was sensible
+that the greatest care is necessary in the choice of the person to whom
+young children are to be entrusted; she knew that only a certain number
+can be properly directed by one superintendent, and that, by attempting
+to do too much, she might do nothing, or worse than nothing.  Her school
+was formed, therefore, on a small scale, which she could enlarge to any
+extent, if it should be found to succeed.  From some of the families of
+poor people, who, in earning their bread, are obliged to spend most of
+the day from home, she selected twelve little girls, of whom Victoire was
+the eldest, and she was between six and seven.
+
+The person under whose care Madame de Fleury wished to place these
+children was a nun of the _Soeurs de la Charite_, with whose simplicity
+of character, benevolence, and mild, steady temper she was thoroughly
+acquainted.  Sister Frances was delighted with the plan.  Any scheme that
+promised to be of service to her follow-creatures was sure of meeting
+with her approbation; but this suited her taste peculiarly, because she
+was extremely fond of children.  No young person had ever boarded six
+months at her convent without becoming attached to good Sister Frances.
+
+The period of which we are writing was some years before convents were
+abolished; but the strictness of their rules had in many instances been
+considerably relaxed.  Without much difficulty, permission was obtained
+from the abbess for our nun to devote her time during the day to the care
+of these poor children, upon condition that she should regularly return
+to her convent every night before evening prayers.  The house which
+Madame de Fleury chose for her little school was in an airy part of the
+town; it did not face the street, but was separated from other buildings
+at the back of a court, retired from noise and bustle.  The two rooms
+intended for the occupation of the children were neat and clean, but
+perfectly simple, with whitewashed walls, furnished only with wooden
+stools and benches, and plain deal tables.  The kitchen was well lighted
+(for light is essential to cleanliness), and it was provided with
+utensils; and for these appropriate places were allotted, to give the
+habit and the taste of order.  The schoolroom opened into a garden larger
+than is usually seen in towns.  The nun, who had been accustomed to
+purchase provisions for her convent, undertook to prepare daily for the
+children breakfast and dinner; they were to sup and sleep at their
+respective homes.  Their parents were to take them to Sister Frances
+every morning when they went out to work, and to call for them upon their
+return home every evening.  By this arrangement, the natural ties of
+affection and intimacy between the children and their parents would not
+be loosened; they would be separate only at the time when their absence
+must be inevitable.  Madame de Fleury thought that any education which
+estranges children entirely from their parents must be fundamentally
+erroneous; that such a separation must tend to destroy that sense of
+filial affection and duty, and those principles of domestic
+subordination, on which so many of the interests and much of the virtue
+and happiness of society depend.  The parents of these poor children were
+eager to trust them to her care, and they strenuously endeavoured to
+promote what they perceived to be entirely to their advantage.  They
+promised to take their daughters to school punctually every morning--a
+promise which was likely to be kept, as a good breakfast was to be ready
+at a certain hour, and not to wait for anybody.  The parents looked
+forward with pleasure, also, to the idea of calling for their little
+girls at the end of their day's labour, and of taking them home to their
+family supper.  During the intermediate hours the children were
+constantly to be employed, or in exercise.  It was difficult to provide
+suitable employments for their early age; but even the youngest of those
+admitted could be taught to wind balls of cotton, thread, and silk for
+haberdashers; or they could shell peas and beans, &c., for a neighbouring
+_traiteur_; or they could weed in a garden.  The next in age could learn
+knitting and plain work, reading, writing, and arithmetic.  As the girls
+should grow up, they were to be made useful in the care of the house.
+Sister Frances said she could teach them to wash and iron, and that she
+would make them as skilful in cookery as she was herself.  This last was
+doubtless a rash promise; for in most of the mysteries of the culinary
+art, especially in the medical branches of it, in making savoury messes
+palatable to the sick, few could hope to equal the neat-handed Sister
+Frances.  She had a variety of other accomplishments; but her humility
+and good sense forbade her upon the present occasion to mention these.
+She said nothing of embroidery, or of painting, or of cutting out paper,
+or of carving in ivory, though in all these she excelled: her cuttings-
+out in paper were exquisite as the finest lace; her embroidered
+housewives, and her painted boxes, and her fan-mounts, and her curiously-
+wrought ivory toys, had obtained for her the highest reputation in the
+convent amongst the best judges in the world.  Those only who have
+philosophically studied and thoroughly understand the nature of fame and
+vanity can justly appreciate the self-denial or magnanimity of Sister
+Frances, in forbearing to enumerate or boast of these things.  She
+alluded to them but once, and in the slightest and most humble manner.
+
+"These little creatures are too young for us to think of teaching them
+anything but plain work at present; but if hereafter any of them should
+show a superior genius we can cultivate it properly.  Heaven has been
+pleased to endow me with the means--at least, our convent says so."
+
+The actions of Sister Frances showed as much moderation as her words; for
+though she was strongly tempted to adorn her new dwelling with those
+specimens of her skill which had long been the glory of her apartment in
+the convent, yet she resisted the impulse, and contented herself with
+hanging over the chimney-piece of her schoolroom a Madonna of her own
+painting.
+
+The day arrived when she was to receive her pupils in their new
+habitation.  When the children entered the room for the first time, they
+paid the Madonna the homage of their unfeigned admiration.  Involuntarily
+the little crowd stopped short at the sight of the picture.  Some dormant
+emotions of human vanity were now awakened--played for a moment about the
+heart of Sister Frances--and may be forgiven.  Her vanity was innocent
+and transient, her benevolence permanent and useful.  Repressing the vain-
+glory of an artist, as she fixed her eyes upon the Madonna, her thoughts
+rose to higher objects, and she seized this happy moment to impress upon
+the minds of her young pupils their first religious ideas and feelings.
+There was such unaffected piety in her manner, such goodness in her
+countenance, such persuasion in her voice, and simplicity in her words,
+that the impression she made was at once serious, pleasing, and not to be
+effaced.  Much depends upon the moment and the manner in which the first
+notions of religion are communicated to children; if these ideas be
+connected with terror, and produced when the mind is sullen or in a state
+of dejection, the future religious feelings are sometimes of a gloomy,
+dispiriting sort; but if the first impression be made when the heart is
+expanded by hope or touched by affection, these emotions are happily and
+permanently associated with religion.  This should be particularly
+attended to by those who undertake the instruction of the children of the
+poor, who must lead a life of labour, and can seldom have leisure or
+inclination, when arrived at years of discretion, to re-examine the
+principles early infused into their minds.  They cannot in their riper
+age conquer by reason those superstitions terrors, or bigoted prejudices,
+which render their victims miserable, or perhaps criminal.  To attempt to
+rectify any errors in the foundation after an edifice has been
+constructed is dangerous: the foundation, therefore, should be laid with
+care.  The religious opinions of Sister Frances were strictly united with
+just rules of morality, strongly enforcing, as the essential means of
+obtaining present and future happiness, the practice of the social
+virtues, so that no good or wise persons, however they might differ from
+her in modes of faith, could doubt the beneficial influence of her
+general principles, or disapprove of the manner in which they were
+inculcated.
+
+Detached from every other worldly interest, this benevolent nun devoted
+all her earthly thoughts to the children of whom she had undertaken the
+charge.  She watched over them with unceasing vigilance, whilst
+diffidence of her own abilities was happily supported by her high opinion
+of Madame de Fleury's judgment.  This lady constantly visited her pupils
+every week; not in the hasty, negligent manner in which fine ladies
+sometimes visit charitable institutions, imagining that the honour of
+their presence is to work miracles, and that everything will go on
+rightly when they have said, "_Let it be so_," or, "_I must have it so_."
+Madame de Fleury's visits were not of this dictatorial or cursory nature.
+Not minutes, but hours, she devoted to these children--she who could
+charm by the grace of her manners, and delight by the elegance of her
+conversation, the most polished circles and the best-informed societies
+of Paris, preferred to the glory of being admired the pleasure of being
+useful:--
+
+   "Her life, as lovely as her face,
+   Each duty mark'd with every grace;
+   Her native sense improved by reading,
+   Her native sweetness by good breeding."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+   "Ah me! how much I fear lest pride it be;
+   But if that pride it be which thus inspires,
+   Beware, ye dames! with nice discernment see
+   Ye quench not too the sparks of nobler fires."
+
+   SHENSTONE.
+
+By repeated observation, and by attending to the minute reports of Sister
+Frances, Madame de Fleury soon became acquainted with the habits and
+temper of each individual in this little society.  The most intelligent
+and the most amiable of these children was Victoire.  Whence her
+superiority arose, whether her abilities were naturally more vivacious
+than those of her companions, or whether they had been more early
+developed by accidental excitation, we cannot pretend to determine, lest
+we should involve ourselves in the intricate question respecting natural
+genius--a metaphysical point, which we shall not in this place stop to
+discuss.  Till the world has an accurate philosophical dictionary (a work
+not to be expected in less than half a dozen centuries), this question
+will never be decided to general satisfaction.  In the meantime we may
+proceed with our story.
+
+Deep was the impression made on Victoire's heart by the kindness that
+Madame de Fleury showed her at the time her arm was broken; and her
+gratitude was expressed with all the enthusiastic fondness of childhood.
+Whenever she spoke or heard of Madame de Fleury her countenance became
+interested and animated in a degree that would have astonished a cool
+English spectator.  Every morning her first question to Sister Frances
+was: "Will _she_ come to-day?"  If Madame de Fleury was expected, the
+hours and the minutes were counted, and the sand in the hour-glass that
+stood on the schoolroom table was frequently shaken.  The moment she
+appeared Victoire ran to her, and was silent; satisfied with standing
+close beside her, holding her gown when unperceived, and watching, as she
+spoke and moved, every turn of her countenance.  Delighted by these marks
+of sensibility, Sister Frances would have praised the child, but was
+warned by Madame de Fleury to refrain from injudicious eulogiums, lest
+she should teach her affectation.
+
+"If I must not praise, you will permit me at least to love her," said
+Sister Frances.
+
+Her affection for Victoire was increased by compassion: during two months
+the poor child's arm hung in a sling, so that she could not venture to
+play with her companions.  At their hours of recreation she used to sit
+on the schoolroom steps, looking down into the garden at the scene of
+merriment in which she could not partake.
+
+For those who know how to find it, there is good in everything.  Sister
+Frances used to take her seat on the steps, sometimes with her work and
+sometimes with a book; and Victoire, tired of being quite idle, listened
+with eagerness to the stories which Sister Frances read, or watched with
+interest the progress of her work; soon she longed to imitate what she
+saw done with so much pleasure, and begged to be taught to work and read.
+By degrees she learned her alphabet, and could soon, to the amazement of
+her schoolfellows, read the names of all the animals in Sister Frances'
+picture-book.  No matter how trifling the thing done, or the knowledge
+acquired, a great point is gained by giving the desire for employment.
+Children frequently become industrious from impatience of the pains and
+penalties of idleness.  Count Rumford showed that he understood childish
+nature perfectly well when, in his House of Industry at Munich, he
+compelled the young children to sit for some time idle in a gallery round
+the hall, where others a little older than themselves were busied at
+work.  During Victoire's state of idle convalescence she acquired the
+desire to be employed, and she consequently soon became more industrious
+than her neighbours.  Succeeding in her first efforts, she was
+praised--was pleased, and persevered till she became an example of
+activity to her companions.  But Victoire, though now nearly seven years
+old, was not quite perfect.  Naturally, or accidentally, she was very
+passionate, and not a little self-willed.
+
+One day being mounted, horsemanlike, with whip in hand, upon the banister
+of the flight of stairs leading from the schoolroom to the garden, she
+called in a tone of triumph to her playfellows, desiring them to stand
+out of the way, and see her slide from top to bottom.  At this moment
+Sister Frances came to the schoolroom door and forbade the feat; but
+Victoire, regardless of all prohibition, slid down instantly, and
+moreover was going to repeat the glorious operation, when Sister Frances,
+catching hold of her arm, pointed to a heap of sharp stones that lay on
+the ground upon the other side of the banisters.
+
+"I am not afraid," said Victoire.
+
+"But if you fall there, you may break your arm again."
+
+"And if I do, I can bear it," said Victoire.  "Let me go, pray let me go:
+I must do it."
+
+"No; I forbid you, Victoire, to slide down again.  Babet and all the
+little ones would follow your example, and perhaps break their necks."
+
+The nun, as she spoke, attempted to compel Victoire to dismount; but she
+was so much of a heroine, that she would do nothing upon compulsion.
+Clinging fast to the banisters, she resisted with all her might; she
+kicked and screamed, and screamed and kicked, but at last her feet were
+taken prisoners; then grasping the railway with one hand, with the other
+she brandished high the little whip.
+
+"What!" said the mild nun, "would you strike me with that _arm_?"
+
+The arm dropped instantly--Victoire recollected Madame de Fleury's
+kindness the day when the arm was broken; dismounting immediately, she
+threw herself upon her knees in the midst of the crowd of young
+spectators, and begged pardon of Sister Frances.  For the rest of the day
+she was as gentle as a lamb; nay, some assert that the effects of her
+contrition were visible during the remainder of the week.
+
+Having thus found the secret of reducing the little rebel to obedience by
+touching her on the tender point of gratitude, the nun had recourse to
+this expedient in all perilous cases; but one day, when she was boasting
+of the infallible operation of her charm, Madame de Fleury advised her to
+forbear recurring to it frequently, lest she should wear out the
+sensibility she so much loved.  In consequence of this counsel,
+Victoire's violence of temper was sometimes reduced by force and
+sometimes corrected by reason; but the principle and the feeling of
+gratitude were not exhausted or weakened in the struggle.  The hope of
+reward operated upon her generous mind more powerfully than the fear of
+punishment; and Madame de Fleury devised rewards with as much ability as
+some legislators invent punishments.
+
+Victoire's brother Maurice, who was now of an age to earn his own bread,
+had a strong desire to be bound apprentice to the smith who worked in the
+house where his mother lodged.  This most ardent wish of his soul he had
+imparted to his sister; and she consulted her benefactress, whom she
+considered as all-powerful in this, as in every other affair.
+
+"Your brother's wish shall be gratified," replied Madame de Fleury, "if
+you can keep your temper one month.  If you are never in a passion for a
+whole month, I will undertake that your brother shall be bound apprentice
+to his friend the smith.  To your companions, to Sister Frances, and
+above all to yourself, I trust, to make me a just report this day month."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+   "You she preferred to all the gay resorts,
+   Where female vanity might wish to shine,
+   The pomp of cities, and the pride of courts."
+
+   LYTTELTON.
+
+At the end of the time prescribed, the judges, including Victoire
+herself, who was the most severe of them all, agreed she had justly
+deserved her reward.  Maurice obtained his wish; and Victoire's temper
+never relapsed into its former bad habits--so powerful is the effect of a
+well-chosen motive!  Perhaps the historian may be blamed for dwelling on
+such trivial anecdotes; yet a lady, who was accustomed to the
+conversation of deep philosophers and polished courtiers, listened
+without disdain to these simple annals.  Nothing appeared to her a trifle
+that could tend to form the habits of temper, truth, honesty, order, and
+industry: habits which are to be early induced, not by solemn precepts,
+but by practical lessons.  A few more examples of these shall be
+recorded, notwithstanding the fear of being tiresome.
+
+One day little Babet, who was now five years old, saw, as she was coming
+to school, an old woman sitting at a corner of the street beside a large
+black brazier full of roasted chestnuts.  Babet thought that the
+chestnuts looked and smelled very good; the old woman was talking
+earnestly to some people, who were on her other side; Babet filled her
+work-bag with chestnuts, and then ran after her mother and sister, who,
+having turned the corner of the street, had not seen what passed.  When
+Babet came to the schoolroom, she opened her bag with triumph, displayed
+her treasure, and offered to divide it with her companions.  "Here,
+Victoire," said she, "here is the largest chestnut for you."
+
+But Victoire would not take it; for she staid that Babet had no money,
+and that she could not have come honestly by these chestnuts.  She spoke
+so forcibly upon this point that even those who had the tempting morsel
+actually at their lips forbore to bite; those who had bitten laid down
+their half-eaten prize; and those who had their hands full of chestnuts
+rolled them back again towards the bag.  Babet cried with vexation.
+
+"I burned my fingers in getting them for you, and now you won't eat
+them!--And I must not eat them!" said she: then curbing her passion, she
+added, "But at any rate, I won't be a thief.  I am sure I did not think
+it was being a thief just to take a few chestnuts from an old woman who
+had such heaps and heaps; but Victoire says it is wrong, and I would not
+be a thief for all the chestnuts in the world--I'll throw them all into
+the fire this minute!"
+
+"No; give them back again to the old woman," said Victoire.
+
+"But, may be, she would scold me for having taken them," said Babet; "or
+who knows but she might whip me?"
+
+"And if she did, could you not bear it?" said Victoire.  "I am sure I
+would rather bear twenty whippings than be a thief."
+
+"Twenty, whippings! that's a great many," said Babet; "and I am so
+little, consider--and that woman has such a monstrous arm!--Now, if it
+was Sister Frances, it would be another thing.  But come! if you will go
+with me, Victoire, you shall see how I will behave."
+
+"We will all go with you," said Victoire.
+
+"Yes, all!" said the children; "And Sister Frances, I dare say, would go,
+if you asked her."
+
+Babet ran and told her, and she readily consented to accompany the little
+penitent to make restitution.  The chestnut woman did not whip Babet, nor
+even scold her, but said she was sure that since the child was so honest
+as to return what she had taken, she would never steal again.  This was
+the most glorious day of Babet's life, and the happiest.  When the
+circumstance was told to Madame de Fleury, she gave the little girl a bag
+of the best chestnuts the old women could select, and Babet with great
+delight shared her reward with her companions.
+
+"But, alas! these chestnuts are not roasted.  Oh, if we could but roast
+them!" said the children.
+
+Sister Frances placed in the middle of the table on which the chestnuts
+were spread a small earthenware furnace--a delightful toy, commonly used
+by children in Paris to cook their little feasts.
+
+"This can be bought for sixpence," said she: "and if each of you twelve
+earn one halfpenny apiece to-day, you can purchase it to-night, and I
+will put a little fire into it, and you will then be able to roast your
+chestnuts."
+
+The children ran eagerly to their work--some to wind worsted for a woman
+who paid them a _liard_ for each ball, others to shell peas for a
+neighbouring _traiteur_--all rejoicing that they were able to earn
+something.  The older girls, under the directions and with the assistance
+of Sister Frances, completed making, washing, and ironing, half a dozen
+little caps, to supply a baby-linen warehouse.  At the end of the day,
+when the sum of the produce of their labours was added together, they
+were surprised to find that, instead of one, they could purchase two
+furnaces.  They received and enjoyed the reward of their united industry.
+The success of their first efforts was fixed in their memory: for they
+were very happy roasting the chestnuts, and they were all (Sister Frances
+inclusive) unanimous in opinion that no chestnuts ever were so good, or
+so well roasted.  Sister Frances always partook in their little innocent
+amusements; and it was her great delight to be the dispenser of rewards
+which at once conferred present pleasure and cherished future virtue.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+   "To virtue wake the pulses of the heart,
+   And bid the tear of emulation start."
+
+   ROGERS.
+
+Victoire, who gave constant exercise to the benevolent feelings of the
+amiable nun, became every day more dear to her.  Far from having the
+selfishness of a favourite, Victoire loved to bring into public notice
+the good actions of her companions.  "Stoop down your ear to me, Sister
+Frances," said she, "and I will tell you a secret--I will tell you why my
+friend Annette is growing so thin--I found it out this morning--she does
+not eat above half her soup every day.  Look, there's her porringer
+covered up in the corner--she carries it home to her mother, who is sick,
+and who has not bread to eat."
+
+Madame de Fleury came in whilst Sister Frances was yet bending down to
+hear this secret; it was repeated to her, and she immediately ordered
+that a certain allowance of bread should be given to Annette every day to
+carry to her mother during her illness.
+
+"I give it in charge to you, Victoire, to remember this, and I am sure it
+will never be forgotten.  Here is an order for you upon my baker: run and
+show it to Annette.  This is a pleasure you deserve; I am glad that you
+have chosen for your friend a girl who is so good a daughter.  Good
+daughters make good friends."
+
+By similar instances of goodness Victoire obtained the love and
+confidence of her companions, notwithstanding her manifest superiority.
+In their turn, they were eager to proclaim her merits; and, as Sister
+Frances and Madame de Fleury administered justice with invariable
+impartiality, the hateful passions of envy and jealousy were never
+excited in this little society.  No servile sycophant, no malicious
+detractor, could rob or defraud their little virtues of their due reward.
+
+"Whom shall I trust to take this to Madame de Fleury?" said Sister
+Frances, carrying into the garden where the children were playing a pot
+of fine jonquils, which she had brought from her convent.--"These are the
+first jonquils I have seen this year, and finer I never beheld!  Whom
+shall I trust to take them to Madame de Fleury this evening?--It must be
+some one who will not stop to stare about on the way, but who will be
+very, very careful--some one in whom I can place perfect dependence."
+
+"It must be Victoire, then," cried every voice.
+
+"Yes, she deserves it to-day particularly," said Annette eagerly;
+"because she was not angry with Babet when she did what was enough to put
+anybody in a passion.  Sister Frances, you know this cherry-tree which
+you grafted for Victoire last year, and that was yesterday so full of
+blossoms--now you see, there is not a blossom left!--Babet plucked them
+all this morning to make a nosegay."
+
+"But she did not know," said Victoire, "that pulling off the blossoms
+would prevent my having any cherries."
+
+"Oh, I am very sorry I was so foolish," said Babet; "Victoire did not
+even say a cross word to me."
+
+"Though she was excessively anxious about the cherries," pursued Annette,
+"because she intended to have given the first she had to Madame de
+Fleury."
+
+"Victoire, take the jonquils--it is but just," said Sister Frances.  "How
+I do love to hear them all praise her!--I knew what she would be from the
+first."
+
+With a joyful heart Victoire took the jonquils, promised to carry them
+with the utmost care, and not to stop to stare on the way.  She set out
+to Madame de Fleury's hotel, which was in _La Place de Louis Quinze_.  It
+was late in the evening, the lamps were lighting, and as Victoire crossed
+the Pont de Louis Seize, she stopped to look at the reflection of the
+lamps in the water, which appeared in succession, as they were lighted,
+spreading as if by magic along the river.  While Victoire leaned over the
+battlements of the bridge, watching the rising of these stars of fire, a
+sudden push from the elbow of some rude passenger precipitated her pot of
+jonquils into the Seine.  The sound it made in the water was thunder to
+the ear of Victoire; she stood for an instant vainly hoping it would rise
+again, but the waters had closed over it for ever.
+
+   "Dans cet etat affreux, que faire?
+   . . . Mon devoir."
+
+Victoire courageously proceeded to Madame de Fleury's, and desired to see
+her.
+
+"D'abord c'est impossible--madame is dressing to go to a concert," said
+Francois.  "Cannot you leave your message?"
+
+"Oh no," said Victoire; "it is of great consequence--I must see her
+myself; and she is so good, and you too, Monsieur Francois, that I am
+sure you will not refuse."
+
+"Well, I remember one day you found the seal of my watch, which I dropped
+at your schoolroom door--one good turn deserves another.  If it is
+possible it shall be done--I will inquire of madame's woman."--"Follow me
+upstairs," said he, returning in a few minutes; "madame will see you."
+
+She followed him up the large staircase, and through a suite of
+apartments sufficiently grand to intimidate her young imagination.
+
+"Madame est dans son cabinet.  Entrez--mais entrez donc, entrez
+toujours."
+
+Madame de Fleury was more richly dressed than usual; and her image was
+reflected in the large looking-glass, so that at the first moment
+Victoire thought she saw many fine ladies, but not one of them the lady
+she wanted.
+
+"Well, Victoire, my child, what is the matter?"
+
+"Oh, it is her voice!--I know you now, madame, and I am not afraid--not
+afraid even to tell you how foolish I have been.  Sister Frances trusted
+me to carry for you, madame, a beautiful pot of jonquils, and she desired
+me not to stop on the way to stare; but I did stop to look at the lamps
+on the bridge, and I forgot the jonquils, and somebody brushed by me and
+threw them into the river--and I am very sorry I was so foolish."
+
+"And I am very glad that you are so wise as to tell the truth, without
+attempting to make any paltry excuses.  Go home to Sister Frances, and
+assure her that I am more obliged to her for making you such an honest
+girl than I could be for a whole bed of jonquils."
+
+Victoire's heart was so full that she could not speak--she kissed Madame
+de Fleury's hand in silence, and then seemed to be lost in contemplation
+of her bracelet.
+
+"Are you thinking, Victoire, that you should be much happier if you had
+such bracelets as these?  Believe me, you are mistaken if you think so;
+many people are unhappy who wear fine bracelets; so, my child, content
+yourself."
+
+"Myself!  Oh, madame, I was not thinking of myself--I was not wishing for
+bracelets; I was only thinking that--"
+
+"That what?"
+
+"That it is a pity you are so very rich; you have everything in this
+world that you want, and I can never be of the least use to _you_--all my
+life I shall never be able to do _you_ any good--and what," said
+Victoire, turning away to hide her tears, "what signifies the gratitude
+of such a poor little creature as I am?"
+
+"Did you never hear the fable of the lion and the mouse, Victoire?"
+
+"No, madame--never!"
+
+"Then I will tell it to you."
+
+Victoire looked up with eyes of eager expectation--Francois opened the
+door to announce that the Marquis de M--- and the Comte de S--- were in
+the saloon; but Madame de Fleury stayed to tell Victoire her fable--she
+would not lose the opportunity of making an impression upon this child's
+heart.
+
+It is whilst the mind is warm that the deepest impressions can be made.
+Seizing the happy moment sometimes decides the character and the fate of
+a child.  In this respect, what advantages have the rich and great in
+educating the children of the poor! they have the power which their rank
+and all its decorations obtain over the imagination.  Their smiles are
+favours; their words are listened to as oracular; they are looked up to
+as beings of a superior order.  Their powers of working good are almost
+as great, though not quite so wonderful, as those formerly attributed to
+beneficent, fairies.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+   "Knowledge for them unlocks her _useful_ page,
+   And virtue blossoms for a better age."--BARBAULD.
+
+A few days after Madame de Fleury had told Victoire the fable of the lion
+and the mouse, she was informed by Sister Frances that Victoire had put
+the fable into verse.  It was wonderfully well done for a child of nine
+years old, and Madame de Fleury was tempted to praise the lines; but,
+checking the enthusiasm of the moment, she considered whether it would be
+advantageous to cultivate her pupil's talent for poetry.  Excellence in
+the poetic art cannot be obtained without a degree of application for
+which a girl in her situation could not have leisure.  To encourage her
+to become a mere rhyming scribbler, without any chance of obtaining
+celebrity or securing subsistence, would be folly and cruelty.  Early
+prodigies in the lower ranks of life are seldom permanently successful;
+they are cried up one day, and cried down the next.  Their productions
+rarely have that superiority which secures a fair preference in the great
+literary market.  Their performances are, perhaps, said to be _wonderful,
+all things considered_, &c.  Charitable allowances are made; the books
+are purchased by associations of complaisant friends or opulent patrons;
+a kind of forced demand is raised, but this can be only temporary and
+delusive.  In spite of bounties and of all the arts of protection,
+nothing but what is intrinsically good will long be preferred, when it
+must be purchased.  But granting that positive excellence is attained,
+there is always danger that for works of fancy the taste of the public
+may suddenly vary: there is a fashion in these things; and when the mode
+changes, the mere literary manufacturer is thrown out of employment; he
+is unable to turn his hand to another trade, or to any but his own
+peculiar branch of the business.  The powers of the mind are often
+partially cultivated in these self-taught geniuses.  We often see that
+one part of their understanding is nourished to the prejudice of the
+rest--the imagination, for instance, at the expense of the judgment: so
+that whilst they have acquired talents for show they have none for use.
+In the affairs of common life they are utterly ignorant and imbecile--or
+worse than imbecile.  Early called into public notice, probably before
+their moral habits are formed, they are extolled for some play of fancy
+or of wit, as Bacon calls it, some juggler's trick of the intellect; they
+immediately take an aversion to plodding labour, they feel raised above
+their situation; possessed by the notion that genius exempts them not
+only from labour, but from vulgar rules of prudence, they soon disgrace
+themselves by their conduct, are deserted by their patrons, and sink into
+despair or plunge into profligacy.
+
+Convinced of these melancholy truths, Madame de Fleury was determined not
+to add to the number of those imprudent or ostentatious patrons, who
+sacrifice to their own amusement and vanity the future happiness of their
+favourites.  Victoire's verses were not handed about in fashionable
+circles, nor was she called upon to recite them before a brilliant
+audience, nor was she produced in public as a prodigy; she was educated
+in private, and by slow and sure degrees, to be a good, useful, and happy
+member of society.  Upon the same principles which decided Madame de
+Fleury against encouraging Victoire to be a poetess, she refrained from
+giving any of her little pupils accomplishments unsuited to their
+situation.  Some had a fine ear for music, others showed powers of
+dancing; but they were taught neither dancing nor music--talents which in
+their station were more likely to be dangerous than serviceable.  They
+were not intended for actresses or opera-girls, but for shop-girls,
+mantua-makers, work-women, and servants of different sorts; consequently
+they were instructed in things which would be most necessary and useful
+to young women in their rank of life.  Before they were ten years old
+they could do all kinds of plain needlework, they could read and write
+well, and they were mistresses of the common rules of arithmetic.  After
+this age they were practised by a writing-master in drawing out bills
+neatly, keeping accounts, and applying to every-day use their knowledge
+of arithmetic.  Some were taught by a laundress to wash and get up fine
+linen and lace; others were instructed by a neighbouring traiteur in
+those culinary mysteries with which Sister Frances was unacquainted.  In
+sweetmeats and confectioneries she yielded to no one; and she made her
+pupils as expert as herself.  Those who were intended for ladies' maids
+were taught mantua-making, and had lessons from Madame de Fleury's own
+woman in hairdressing.
+
+Amongst her numerous friends and acquaintances, and amongst the
+shopkeepers whom she was in the habit of employing, Madame de Fleury had
+means of placing and establishing her pupils suitably and advantageously:
+of this, both they and their parents were aware, so that there was a
+constant and great motive operating continually to induce them to exert
+themselves, and to behave well.  This reasonable hope of reaping the
+fruits of their education, and of being immediately rewarded for their
+good conduct; this perception of the connection between what they are
+taught and what they are to become, is necessary to make young people
+assiduous; for want of attending to these principles many splendid
+establishments have failed to produce pupils answerable to the
+expectations which had been formed of them.
+
+During seven years that Madame de Fleury persevered uniformly on the same
+plan, only one girl forfeited her protection--a girl of the name of
+Manon; she was Victoire's cousin, but totally unlike her in character.
+
+When very young, her beautiful eyes and hair caught the fancy of a rich
+lady, who took her into her family as a sort of humble playfellow for her
+children.  She was taught to dance and to sing: she soon excelled in
+these accomplishments, and was admired, and produced as a prodigy of
+talent.  The lady of the house gave herself great credit for having
+discerned, and having brought forward, such talents.  Manon's moral
+character was in the meantime neglected.  In this house, where there was
+a constant scene of hurry and dissipation, the child had frequent
+opportunities and temptations to be dishonest.  For some time she was not
+detected; her caressing manners pleased her patroness, and servile
+compliance with the humours of the children of the family secured their
+goodwill.  Encouraged by daily petty successes in the art of deceit, she
+became a complete hypocrite.  With culpable negligence, her mistress
+trusted implicitly to appearances; and without examining whether she were
+really honest, she suffered her to have free access to unlocked drawers
+and valuable cabinets.  Several articles of dress were missed from time
+to time; but Manon managed so artfully, that she averted from herself all
+suspicion.  Emboldened by this fatal impunity, she at last attempted
+depredations of more importance.  She purloined a valuable snuff-box--was
+detected in disposing of the broken parts of it at a pawnbroker's, and
+was immediately discarded in disgrace; but by her tears and vehement
+expressions of remorse she so far worked upon the weakness of the lady of
+the house as to prevail upon her to conceal the circumstance that
+occasioned her dismissal.  Some months afterwards, Manon, pleading that
+she was thoroughly reformed, obtained from this lady a recommendation to
+Madame de Fleury's school.  It is wonderful that, people, who in other
+respects profess and practise integrity, can be so culpably weak as to
+give good characters to those who do not deserve them: this is really one
+of the worst species of forgery.  Imposed upon by this treacherous
+recommendation, Madame de Fleury received into the midst of her innocent
+young pupils one who might have corrupted their minds secretly and
+irrecoverably.  Fortunately a discovery was made in time of Manon's real
+disposition.  A mere trifle led to the detection of her habits of
+falsehood.  As she could not do any kind of needlework, she was employed
+in winding cotton; she was negligent, and did not in the course of the
+week wind the same number of balls as her companions; and to conceal
+this, she pretended that she had delivered the proper number to the
+woman, who regularly called at the end of the week for the cotton.  The
+woman persisted in her account, and the children in theirs; and Manon
+would not retract her assertion.  The poor woman gave up the point; but
+she declared that she would the next time send her brother to make up the
+account, because he was sharper than herself, and would not be imposed
+upon so easily.  The ensuing week the brother came, and he proved to be
+the very pawnbroker to whom Manon formerly offered the stolen box: he
+knew her immediately; it was in vain that she attempted to puzzle him,
+and to persuade him that she was not the same person.  The man was clear
+and firm.  Sister Frances could scarcely believe what she heard.  Struck
+with horror, the children shrank back from Manon, and stood in silence.
+Madame de Fleury immediately wrote to the lady who had recommended this
+girl, and inquired into the truth of the pawnbroker's assertions.  The
+lady, who had given Manon a false character, could not deny the facts,
+and could apologise for herself only by saying that "she believed the
+girl to be partly reformed, and that she hoped, under Madame de Fleury's
+judicious care, she would become an amiable and respectable woman."
+
+Madame de Fleury, however, wisely judged that the hazard of corrupting
+all her pupils should not be incurred for the slight chance of correcting
+one, whose bad habits wore of such long standing.  Manon was expelled
+from this happy little community--even Sister Frances, the most mild of
+human beings, could never think of the danger to which they had been
+exposed without expressing indignation against the lady who recommended
+such a girl as a fit companion for her blameless and beloved pupils.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+   "Alas! regardless of their doom,
+   The little victims play:
+   No sense have they of ills to come,
+   No care beyond to-day."--GRAY.
+
+Good legislators always attend to the habits, and what is called the
+genius, of the people they have to govern.  From youth to age, the taste
+for whatever is called _une fete_ pervades the whole French nation.
+Madame de Fleury availed herself judiciously of this powerful motive, and
+connected it with the feelings of affection more than with the passion
+for show.  For instance, when any of her little people had done anything
+particularly worthy of reward, she gave them leave to invite their
+parents to a _fete_ prepared for them by their children, assisted by the
+kindness of Sister Frances.
+
+One day--it was a holiday obtained by Victoire's good conduct--all the
+children prepared in their garden a little feast for their parents.
+Sister Frances spread the table with a bountiful hand, the happy fathers
+and mothers were waited upon by their children, and each in their turn
+heard with delight from the benevolent nun some instance of their
+daughter's improvement.  Full of hope for the future and of gratitude for
+the past, these honest people ate and talked, whilst in imagination they
+saw their children all prosperously and usefully settled in the world.
+They blessed Madame de Fleury in her absence, and they wished ardently
+for her presence.
+
+"The sun is setting, and Madame de Fleury is not yet come," cried
+Victoire; "she said she would be here this evening--What can be the
+matter?"
+
+"Nothing is the matter, you may be sure," said Babet; "but that she has
+forgotten us--she has so many things to think of."
+
+"Yes; but I know she never forgets us," said Victoire; "and she loves so
+much to see us all happy together, that I am sure it must be something
+very extraordinary that detains her."
+
+Babet laughed at Victoire's fears; but presently even she began to grow
+impatient; for they waited long after sunset, expecting every moment that
+Madame de Fleury would arrive.  At last she appeared, but with a dejected
+countenance, which seemed to justify Victoire's foreboding.  When she saw
+this festive company, each child sitting between her parents, and all at
+her entrance looking up with affectionate pleasure, a faint smile
+enlivened her countenance for a moment; but she did not speak to them
+with her usual ease.  Her mind seemed preoccupied by some disagreeable
+business of importance.  It appeared that it had some connection with
+them; for as she walked round the table with Sister Frances, she said,
+with a voice and look of great tenderness, "Poor children! how happy they
+are at this moment!--Heaven only knows how soon they may be rendered, or
+may render themselves, miserable!"
+
+None of the children could imagine what this meant; but their parents
+guessed that it had some allusion to the state of public affairs.  About
+this time some of those discontents had broken out which preceded the
+terrible days of the Revolution.  As yet, most of the common people, who
+were honestly employed in earning their own living, neither understood
+what was going on nor foresaw what was to happen.  Many of their
+superiors were not in such happy ignorance--they had information of the
+intrigues that were forming; and the more penetration they possessed, the
+more they feared the consequences of events which they could not control.
+At the house of a great man, with whom she had dined this day, Madame de
+Fleury had heard alarming news.  Dreadful public disturbances, she saw,
+were inevitable; and whilst she trembled for the fate of all who were
+dear to her, these poor children had a share in her anxiety.  She foresaw
+the temptations, the dangers, to which they must be exposed, whether they
+abandoned, or whether they abided by the principles their education had
+instilled.  She feared that the labour of years would perhaps be lost in
+an instant, or that her innocent pupils would fall victims even to their
+virtues.
+
+Many of these young people were now of an age to understand and to govern
+themselves by reason; and with these she determined to use those
+preventive measures which reason affords.  Without meddling with
+politics, in which no amiable or sensible woman can wish to interfere,
+the influence of ladies in the higher ranks of life may always be exerted
+with perfect propriety, and with essential advantage to the public, in
+conciliating the inferior classes of society, explaining to them their
+duties and their interests, and impressing upon the minds of the children
+of the poor sentiments of just subordination and honest independence.  How
+happy would it have been for France if women of fortune and abilities had
+always exerted their talents and activity in this manner, instead of
+wasting their powers in futile declamations, or in the intrigues of
+party!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+   "E'en now the devastation is begun,
+   And half the business of destruction done."
+
+   GOLDSMITH.
+
+Madame de Fleury was not disappointed in her pupils.  When the public
+disturbances began, these children were shocked by the horrible actions
+they saw.  Instead of being seduced by bad example, they only showed
+anxiety to avoid companions of their own age who were dishonest, idle, or
+profligate.  Victoire's cousin Manon ridiculed these absurd principles,
+as she called them, and endeavoured to persuade Victoire that she would
+be much happier if she followed the fashion.
+
+"What!  Victoire, still with your work-bag on your arm, and still going
+to school with your little sister, though you are but a year younger than
+I am, I believe!--thirteen last birthday, were not you?--Mon Dieu!  Why,
+how long do you intend to be a child? and why don't you leave that old
+nun, who keeps you in leading-strings?--I assure you, nuns, and school-
+mistresses, and schools, and all that sort of thing, are out of fashion
+now--we have abolished all that--we are to live a life of reason now--and
+all soon to be equal, I can tell you; let your Madame de Fleury look to
+that, and look to it yourself; for with all your wisdom, you might find
+yourself in the wrong box by sticking to her, and that side of the
+question.--Disengage yourself from her, I advise you, as soon as you
+can.--My dear Victoire! believe me, you may spell very well--but you know
+nothing of the rights of man, or the rights of woman."
+
+"I do not pretend to know anything of the rights of men, or the rights of
+women," cried Victoire; "but this I know: that I never can or will be
+ungrateful to Madame de Fleury.  Disengage myself from her!  I am bound
+to her for ever, and I will abide by her till the last hour I breathe."
+
+"Well, well! there is no occasion to be in a passion--I only speak as a
+friend, and I have no more time to reason with you; for I must go home,
+and get ready my dress for the ball to-night."
+
+"Manon, how can you afford to buy a dress for a ball?"
+
+"As you might, if you had common sense, Victoire--only by being a good
+citizen.  I and a party of us denounced a milliner and a confectioner in
+our neighbourhood, who were horrible aristocrats; and of their goods
+forfeited to the nation we had, as was our just share, such delicious
+_marangues_ and charming ribands!--Oh, Victoire, believe me, you will
+never get such things by going to school, or saying your prayers either.
+You may look with as much scorn and indignation as you please, but I
+advise you to let it alone, for all that is out of fashion, and may,
+moreover, bring you into difficulties.  Believe me, my dear Victoire,
+your head is not deep enough to understand these things--you know nothing
+of politics."
+
+"But I know the difference between right and wrong, Manon: politics can
+never alter that, you know."
+
+"Never alter that! there you are quite mistaken," said Manon.  "I cannot
+stay to convince you now--but this I can tell you: that I know secrets
+that you don't suspect."
+
+"I do not wish to know any of your secrets, Manon," said Victoire,
+proudly.
+
+"Your pride may be humbled, Citoyenne Victoire, sooner than you expect,"
+exclaimed Manon, who was now so provoked by her cousin's contempt that
+she could not refrain from boasting of her political knowledge.  "I can
+tell you that your fine friends will in a few days not be able to protect
+you.  The Abbe Tracassier is in love with a dear friend of mine, and I
+know all the secrets of state from her--and I know what I know.  Be as
+incredulous as you please, but you will see that, before this week is at
+end, Monsieur de Fleury will be guillotined, and then what will become of
+you?  Good morning, my proud cousin."
+
+Shocked by what she had just heard, Victoire could scarcely believe that
+Manon was in earnest; she resolved, however, to go immediately and
+communicate this intelligence, whether true or false, to Madame de
+Fleury.  It agreed but too well with other circumstances, which alarmed
+this lady for the safety of her husband.  A man of his abilities,
+integrity, and fortune, could not in such times hope to escape
+persecution.  He was inclined to brave the danger; but his lady
+represented that it would not be courage, but rashness and folly, to
+sacrifice his life to the villainy of others, without probability or
+possibility of serving his country by his fall.
+
+Monsieur de Fleury, in consequence of these representations, and of
+Victoire's intelligence, made his escape from Paris; and the very next
+day placards were put up in every street, offering a price for the head
+of Citoyen Fleury, _suspected of incivisme_.
+
+Struck with terror and astonishment at the sight of these placards, the
+children read them as they returned in the evening from school; and
+little Babet in the vehemence of her indignation mounted a lamplighter's
+ladder, and tore down one of the papers.  This imprudent action did not
+pass unobserved: it was seen by one of the spies of Citoyen Tracassier, a
+man who, under the pretence of zeal _pour la chose publique_, gratified
+without scruple his private resentments and his malevolent passions.  In
+his former character of an abbe, and a man of wit, he had gained
+admittance into Madame de Fleury's society.  There he attempted to
+dictate both as a literary and religious despot.  Accidentally
+discovering that Madame de Fleury had a little school for poor children,
+he thought proper to be offended, because he had not been consulted
+respecting the regulations, and because he was not permitted, as he said,
+to take the charge of this little flock.  He made many objections to
+Sister Frances, as being an improper person to have the spiritual
+guidance of these young people; but as he was unable to give any just
+reason for his dislike, Madame de Fleury persisted in her choice, and was
+at last obliged to assert, in opposition to the domineering abbe, her
+right to judge and decide in her own affairs.  With seeming politeness,
+he begged ten thousand pardons for his conscientious interference.  No
+more was said upon the subject; and as he did not totally withdraw from
+her society till the revolution broke out, she did not suspect that she
+had anything to fear from his resentment.  His manners and opinions
+changed suddenly with the times; the mask of religion was thrown off; and
+now, instead of objecting to Sister Frances as not being sufficiently
+strict and orthodox in her tenets, he boldly declared that a nun was not
+a fit person to be intrusted with the education of any of the young
+citizens--they should all be _des eleves de la patrie_.  The abbe, become
+a member of the Committee of Public Safety, denounced Madame de Fleury,
+in the strange jargon of the day, as "_the fosterer of a swarm of bad
+citizens, who were nourished in the anticivic prejudices_ de l'ancien
+regime, _and fostered in the most detestable superstitions, in defiance
+of the law_."  He further observed, that he had good reason to believe
+that some of these little enemies to the constitution had contrived and
+abetted Monsieur de Fleury's escape.  Of their having rejoiced at it in a
+most indecent manner, he said he could produce irrefragable proof.  The
+boy who saw Babet tear down the placard was produced and solemnly
+examined; and the thoughtless action of this poor little girl was
+construed into a state crime of the most horrible nature.  In a
+declamatory tone, Tracassier reminded his fellow-citizens, that in the
+ancient Grecian times of virtuous republicanism (times of which France
+ought to show herself emulous), an Athenian child was condemned to death
+for having made a plaything of a fragment of the gilding that had fallen
+from a public statue.  The orator, for the reward of his eloquence,
+obtained an order to seize everything in Madame de Fleury's school-house,
+and to throw the nun into prison.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+   "Who now will guard bewildered youth
+   Safe from the fierce assault of hostile rage?--
+   Such war can Virtue wage?"
+
+At the very moment when this order was going to be put in execution,
+Madame de Fleury was sitting in the midst of the children, listening to
+Babet, who was reading AEsop's fable of _The old man and his sons_.
+Whilst her sister was reading, Victoire collected a number of twigs from
+the garden: she had just tied them together; and was going, by Sister
+Frances' desire, to let her companions try if they could break the
+bundle, when the attention to the moral of the fable was interrupted by
+the entrance of an old woman, whose countenance expressed the utmost
+terror and haste, to tell what she had not breath to utter.  To Madame de
+Fleury she was a stranger; but the children immediately recollected her
+to be the chestnut woman to whom Babet had some years ago restored
+certain purloined chestnuts.
+
+"Fly!" said she, the moment she had breath to speak: "Fly!--they are
+coming to seize everything here--carry off what you can--make haste--make
+haste!--I came through a by-street.  A man was eating chestnuts at my
+stall, and I saw him show one that was with him the order from Citoyen
+Tracassier.  They'll be here in five minutes--quick!--quick!--You, in
+particular," continued she, turning to the nun, "else you'll be in
+prison."
+
+At these words, the children, who had clung round Sister Frances, loosed
+their hold, exclaiming, "Go! go quick: but where? where?--we will go with
+her."
+
+"No, no!" said Madame de Fleury, "she shall come home with me--my
+carriage is at the door."
+
+"Ma belle dame!" cried the chestnut woman, "your house is the worst place
+she can go to--let her come to my cellar--the poorest cellar in these
+days is safer than the grandest palace."
+
+So saying, she seized the nun with honest roughness, and hurried her
+away.  As soon as she was gone, the children ran different ways, each to
+collect some favourite thing, which they thought they could not leave
+behind.  Victoire alone stood motionless beside Madame de Fleury; her
+whole thoughts absorbed by the fear that her benefactress would be
+imprisoned.  "Oh, madame! dear, dear Madame de Fleury, don't stay! don't
+stay!"
+
+"Oh, children, never mind these things."
+
+"Don't stay, madame, don't stay!  I will stay with them--I will stay--do
+you go."
+
+The children hearing these words, and recollecting Madame de Fleury's
+danger, abandoned all their little property, and instantly obeyed her
+orders to go home to their parents.  Victoire at last saw Madame de
+Fleury safe in her carriage.  The coachman drove off at a great rate; and
+a few minutes afterwards Tracassier's myrmidons arrived at the school-
+house.  Great was their surprise when they found only the poor children's
+little books, unfinished samplers, and half-hemmed handkerchiefs.  They
+ran into the garden to search for the nun.  They were men of brutal
+habits, yet as they looked at everything round them, which bespoke peace,
+innocence, and childish happiness, they could not help thinking it was a
+pity to destroy what could do the nation no great harm after all.  They
+were even glad that the nun had made her escape, since they were not
+answerable for it; and they returned to their employer satisfied for once
+without doing any mischief; but Citizen Tracassier was of too vindictive
+a temper to suffer the objects of his hatred thus to elude his vengeance.
+The next day Madame de Fleury was summoned before his tribunal and
+ordered to give up the nun, against whom, as a suspected person, a decree
+of the law had been obtained.
+
+Madame de Fleury refused to betray the innocent woman; the gentle
+firmness of this lady's answers to a brutal interrogatory was termed
+insolence--she was pronounced a refractory aristocrat, dangerous to the
+state; and an order was made out to seal up her goods, and to keep her a
+prisoner in her own house.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+   "Alas! full oft on Guilt's victorious car
+   The spoils of Virtue are in triumph borne,
+   While the fair captive, marked with many a scar,
+   In lone obscurity, oppressed, forlorn,
+   Resigns to tears her angel form."--BEATTIE.
+
+A close prisoner in her own house, Madame de Fleury was now guarded by
+men suddenly become soldiers, and sprung from the dregs of the people;
+men of brutal manners, ferocious countenances, and more ferocious minds.
+They seemed to delight in the insolent display of their newly-acquired
+power.  One of those men had formerly been convicted of some horrible
+crime, and had been sent to the galleys by M. de Fleury.  Revenge
+actuated this wretch under the mask of patriotism, and he rejoiced in
+seeing the wife of the man he hated a prisoner in his custody.  Ignorant
+of the facts, his associates were ready to believe him in the right, and
+to join in the senseless cry against all who were their superiors in
+fortune, birth, and education.  This unfortunate lady was forbidden all
+intercourse with her friends, and it was in vain she attempted to obtain
+from her gaolers intelligence of what was passing in Paris.
+
+"Tu verras--Tout va bien--Ca ira," were the only answers they deigned to
+make; frequently they continued smoking their pipes in obdurate silence.
+She occupied the back rooms of her house, because her guards apprehended
+that she might from the front windows receive intelligence from her
+friends.  One morning she was awakened by an unusual noise in the
+streets; and, upon her inquiring the occasion of it, her guards told her
+she was welcome to go to the front windows and satisfy her curiosity.  She
+went, and saw an immense crowd of people surrounding a guillotine that
+had been erected the preceding night.  Madame de Fleury started back with
+horror--her guards burst into an inhuman laugh, and asked whether her
+curiosity was satisfied.  She would have left the room; but it was now
+their pleasure to detain her, and to force her to continue the whole day
+in this apartment.  When the guillotine began its work, they had even the
+barbarity to drag her to the window, repeating, "It is there you ought to
+be!--It is there your husband ought to be!--You are too happy, that your
+husband is not there this moment.  But he will be there--the law will
+overtake him--he will be there in time--and you too!"
+
+The mild fortitude of this innocent, benevolent woman made no impression
+upon these cruel men.  When at night they saw her kneeling at her
+prayers, they taunted her with gross and impious mockery; and when she
+sank to sleep, they would waken her by their loud and drunken orgies--if
+she remonstrated, they answered, "The enemies of the constitution should
+have no rest."
+
+Madame de Fleury was not an enemy to any human being; she had never
+interfered in politics; her life had been passed in domestic pleasures,
+or employed for the good of her fellow-creatures.  Even in this hour of
+personal danger she thought of others more than of herself: she thought
+of her husband, an exile in a foreign country, who might be reduced to
+the utmost distress now that she was deprived of all means of remitting
+him money.  She thought of her friends, who, she knew, would exert
+themselves to obtain her liberty, and whose zeal in her cause might
+involve them and their families in distress.  She thought of the good
+Sister Frances, who had been exposed by her means to the unrelenting
+persecution of the malignant and powerful Tracassier.  She thought of her
+poor little pupils, now thrown upon the world without a protector.  Whilst
+these ideas were revolving in her mind one night as she lay awake, she
+heard the door of her chamber open softly, and a soldier, one of her
+guards, with a light in his hand, entered; he came to the foot of her
+bed, and, as she started up, laid his finger upon his lips.
+
+"Don't make the least noise," said he in a whisper; "those without are
+drunk, and asleep.  Don't you know me?--don't you remember my face?"
+
+"Not in the least; yet I have some recollection of your voice."
+
+The man took off the bonnet-rouge--still she could not guess who he was.
+"You never saw me in a uniform before nor without a black face."
+
+She looked again, and recollected the smith to whom Maurice was bound
+apprentice, and remembered his _patois_ accent.
+
+"I remember you," said he, "at any rate; and your goodness to that poor
+girl the day her arm was broken, and all your goodness to Maurice.  But
+I've no time for talking of that now--get up, wrap this great coat round
+you--don't be in a hurry, but make no noise--and follow me."
+
+She followed him; and he led her past the sleeping sentinels, opened a
+back door into the garden, hurried her (almost carried her) across the
+garden to a door at the furthest end of it, which opened into Les Champs
+Elysees--"La voila!" cried he, pushing her through the half-opened door.
+"God be praised!" answered a voice, which Madame de Fleury knew to be
+Victoire's, whose arms were thrown round her with a transport of joy.
+
+"Softly; she is not safe yet--wait till we get her home, Victoire," said
+another voice, which she knew to be that of Maurice.  He produced a dark
+lantern, and guided Madame de Fleury across the Champs Elysees, and
+across the bridge, and then through various by-streets, in perfect
+silence, till they arrived safely at the house where Victoire's mother
+lodged, and went up those very stairs which she had ascended in such
+different circumstances several years before.  The mother, who was
+sitting up waiting most anxiously for the return of her children, clasped
+her hands in an ecstasy when she saw them return with Madame de Fleury.
+
+"Welcome, madame!  Welcome, dear madame! but who would have thought of
+seeing you here in such a way?  Let her rest herself--let her rest; she
+is quite overcome.  Here, madame, can you sleep on this poor bed?"
+
+"The very same bed you laid me upon the day my arm was broken," said
+Victoire.
+
+"Ay, Lord bless her!" said the mother; "and though it's seven good years
+ago, it seemed but yesterday that I saw her sitting on that bed beside my
+poor child looking like an angel.  But let her rest, let her rest--we'll
+not say a word more, only God bless her; thank Heaven, she's safe with us
+at last!"
+
+Madame de Fleury expressed unwillingness to stay with these good people,
+lest she should expose them to danger; but they begged most earnestly
+that she would remain with them without scruple.
+
+"Surely, madame," said the mother, "you must think that we have some
+remembrance of all you have done for us, and some touch of gratitude."
+
+"And surely, madame, you can trust us, I hope," said Maurice.
+
+"And surely you are not too proud to let us do something for you.  The
+lion was not too proud to be served by the poor little mouse," said
+Victoire.  "As to danger for us," continued she, "there can be none; for
+Maurice and I have contrived a hiding-place for you, madame, that can
+never be found out--let them come spying here as often as they please,
+they will never find her out, will they, Maurice?  Look, madame, into
+this lumber-room; you see it seems to be quite full of wood for firing;
+well, if you creep in behind, you can hide yourself quite sung in the
+loft above, and here's a trap-door into the loft that nobody ever would
+think of, for we have hung these old things from the top of it, and who
+could guess it was a trap-door?  So you see, dear madame, you may sleep
+in peace here, and never fear for us."
+
+Though but a girl of fourteen, Victoire showed at this time all the sense
+and prudence of a woman of thirty.  Gratitude seemed at once to develop
+all the powers of her mind.  It was she and Maurice who had prevailed
+upon the smith to effect Madame de Fleury's escape from her own house.
+She had invented, she had foreseen, she had arranged everything; she had
+scarcely rested night or day since the imprisonment of her benefactress,
+and now that her exertions had fully succeeded, her joy seemed to raise
+her above all feeling of fatigue; she looked as fresh and moved as
+briskly, her mother said, as if she were preparing to go to a ball.
+
+"Ah! my child," said she, "your cousin Manon, who goes to those balls
+every night, was never so happy as you are this minute."
+
+But Victoire's happiness was not of long continuance; for the next day
+they were alarmed by intelligence that Tracassier was enraged beyond
+measure at Madame de Fleury's escape, that all his emissaries were at
+work to discover her present hiding-place, that the houses of all the
+parents and relations of her pupils were to be searched, and that the
+most severe denunciations were issued against all by whom she should be
+harboured.  Manon was the person who gave this intelligence, but not with
+any benevolent design; she first came to Victoire, to display her own
+consequence; and to terrify her, she related all she knew from a
+soldier's wife, who was M. Tracassier's mistress.  Victoire had
+sufficient command over herself to conceal from the inquisitive eyes of
+Manon the agitation of her heart; she had also the prudence not to let
+any one of her companions into her secret, though, when she saw their
+anxiety, she was much tempted to relieve them, by the assurance that
+Madame de Fleury was in safety.  All the day was passed in apprehension.
+Madame de Fleury never stirred from her place of concealment: as the
+evening and the hour of the domiciliary visits approached, Victoire and
+Maurice were alarmed by an unforeseen difficulty.  Their mother, whose
+health had been broken by hard work, in vain endeavoured to suppress her
+terror at the thoughts of this domiciliary visit; she repeated
+incessantly that she knew they should all be discovered, and that her
+children would be dragged to the guillotine before her face.  She was in
+such a distracted state, that they dreaded she would, the moment she saw
+the soldiers, reveal all she knew.
+
+"If they question me, I shall not know what to answer," cried the
+terrified woman.  "What can I say?--What can I do?"
+
+Reasoning, entreaties, all were vain; she was not in a condition to
+understand, or even to listen to, anything that was said.  In this
+situation they were when the domiciliary visitors arrived--they heard the
+noise of the soldiers' feet on the stairs--the poor woman sprang from the
+arms of her children; but at the moment the door was opened, and she saw
+the glittering of the bayonets, she fell at full length in a swoon on the
+floor--fortunately before she had power to utter a syllable.  The people
+of the house knew, and said, that she was subject to fits on any sudden
+alarm; so that her being affected in this manner did not appear
+surprising.  They threw her on a bed, whilst they proceeded to search the
+house: her children stayed with her; and, wholly occupied in attending to
+her, they were not exposed to the danger of betraying their anxiety about
+Madame de Fleury.  They trembled, however, from head to foot when they
+heard one of the soldiers swear that all the wood in the lumber-room must
+be pulled out, and that he would not leave the house till every stick was
+moved; the sound of each log, as it was thrown out, was heard by
+Victoire; her brother was now summoned to assist.  How great was his
+terror when one of the searchers looked up to the roof, as if expecting
+to find a trap door; fortunately, however, he did not discover it.
+Maurice, who had seized the light, contrived to throw the shadows so as
+to deceive the eye.  The soldiers at length retreated; and with
+inexpressible satisfaction Maurice lighted them down stairs, and saw them
+fairly out of the house.  For some minutes after they were in safety, the
+terrified mother, who had recovered her senses, could scarcely believe
+that the danger was over.  She embraced her children by turns with wild
+transport; and with tears begged Madame de Fleury to forgive her
+cowardice, and not to attribute it to ingratitude, or to suspect that she
+had a bad heart.  She protested that she was now become so courageous,
+since she found that she had gone through this trial successfully, and
+since she was sure that the hiding-place was really so secure, that she
+should never be alarmed at any domiciliary visit in future.  Madame de
+Fleury, however, did not think it either just or expedient to put her
+resolution to the trial.  She determined to leave Paris; and, if
+possible, to make her escape from France.  The master of one of the Paris
+diligences was brother to Francois, her footman: he was ready to assist
+her at all hazards, and to convey her safely to Bourdeaux, if she could
+disguise herself properly; and if she could obtain a pass from any friend
+under a feigned name.
+
+Victoire--the indefatigable Victoire--recollected that her friend Annette
+had an aunt, who was nearly of Madame de Fleury's size, and who had just
+obtained a pass to go to Bourdeaux, to visit some of her relations.  The
+pass was willingly given up to Madame de Fleury; and upon reading it over
+it was found to answer tolerably well--the colour of the eyes and hair at
+least would do; though the words _un nez gros_ were not precisely
+descriptive of this lady's.  Annette's mother, who had always worn the
+provincial dress of Auvergne, furnished the high _cornette_, stiff stays,
+bodice, &c.; and equipped in these, Madame de Fleury was so admirably
+well disguised, that even Victoire declared she should scarcely have
+known her.  Money, that most necessary passport in all countries, was
+still wanting: as seals had been put upon all Madame de Fleury's effects
+the day she had been first imprisoned in her own house, she could not
+save even her jewels.  She had, however, one ring on her finger of some
+value.  How to dispose of it without exciting suspicion was the
+difficulty.  Babet, who was resolved to have her share in assisting her
+benefactress, proposed to carry the ring to a _colporteur_--a pedlar, or
+sort of travelling jeweller--who had come to lay in a stock of hardware
+at Paris: he was related to one of Madame de Fleury's little pupils, and
+readily disposed of the ring for her: she obtained at least two-thirds of
+its value--a great deal in those times.
+
+The proofs of integrity, attachment, and gratitude which she received in
+these days of peril, from those whom she had obliged in her prosperity,
+touched her generous heart so much, that she has often since declared she
+could not regret having been reduced to distress.  Before she quitted
+Paris she wrote letters to her friends, recommending her pupils to their
+protection; she left these letters in the care of Victoire, who to the
+last moment followed her with anxious affection.  She would have followed
+her benefactress into exile, but that she was prevented by duty and
+affection from leaving her mother, who was in declining health.
+
+Madame de Fleury successfully made her escape from Paris.  Some of the
+municipal officers in the towns through which she passed on her road were
+as severe as their ignorance would permit in scrutinising her passport.
+It seldom happened that more than one of these petty committees of public
+safety could read.  One usually spelled out the passport as well as he
+could, whilst the others smoked their pipes, and from time to time held a
+light up to the lady's face to examine whether it agreed with the
+description.
+
+"Mais toi! tu n'as pas le nez gros!" said one of her judges to her.  "Son
+nez est assez gros, et c'est moi qui le dit," said another.  The question
+was put to the vote; and the man who had asserted what was contrary to
+the evidence of his senses was so vehement in supporting his opinion,
+that it was carried in spite of all that could be said against it.  Madame
+de Fleury was suffered to proceed on her journey.  She reached Bordeaux
+in safety.  Her husband's friends--the good have always friends in
+adversity--her husband's friends exerted themselves for her with the most
+prudent zeal.  She was soon provided with a sum of money sufficient for
+her support for some time in England; and she safely reached that free
+and happy country, which has been the refuge of so many illustrious
+exiles.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+   "Cosi rozzo diamante appena splende
+   Dalla rupe natia quand' esce fuora,
+   E a poco a poco lucido se rende
+   Sotto l'attenta che lo lavora."
+
+Madame de Fleury joined her husband, who was in London, and they both
+lived in the most retired and frugal manner.  They had too much of the
+pride of independence to become burthensome to their generous English
+friends.  Notwithstanding the variety of difficulties they had to
+encounter, and the number of daily privations to which they were forced
+to submit, yet they were happy--in a tranquil conscience, in their mutual
+affection, and the attachment of many poor but grateful friends.  A few
+months after she came to England, Madame de Fleury received, by a private
+hand, a packet of letters from her little pupils.  Each of them, even the
+youngest, who had but just begun to learn joining-hand, would write a few
+lines in this packet.
+
+In various hands, of various sizes, the changes were rung upon these
+simple words:--
+
+   "MY DEAR MADAME DE FLEURY,
+
+   "I love you--I wish you were here again--I will be _very very_ good
+   whilst you are away.  If you stay away ever so long, I shall never
+   forget you, nor your goodness; but I hope you will soon be able to
+   come back, and this is what I pray for every night.  Sister Frances
+   says I may tell you that I am very good, and Victoire thinks so too."
+
+This was the substance of several of their little letters.  Victoire's
+contained rather more information:--
+
+   "You will be glad to learn that dear Sister Frances is safe, and that
+   the good chestnut-woman, in whose cellar she took refuge, did not get
+   into any difficulty.  After you were gone, M. T--- said that he did
+   not think it worth while to pursue her, as it was only you he wanted
+   to humble.  Manon, who has, I do not know how, means of knowing, told
+   me this.  Sister Frances is now with her abbess, who, as well as
+   everybody else that knows her, is very fond of her.  What was a
+   convent is no longer a convent--the nuns are turned out of it.  Sister
+   Frances' health is not so good as it used to be, though she never
+   complains.  I am sure she suffers much; she has never been the same
+   person since that day when we were driven from our happy schoolroom.
+   It is all destroyed--the garden and everything.  It is now a dismal
+   sight.  Your absence also afflicts Sister Frances much, and she is in
+   great anxiety about all of us.  She has the six little ones with her
+   every day in her own apartment, and goes on teaching them as she used
+   to do.  We six eldest go to see her as often as we can.  I should have
+   begun, my dear Madame de Fleury, by telling you, that, the day after
+   you left Paris, I went to deliver all the letters you were so very
+   kind to write for us in the midst of your hurry.  Your friends have
+   been exceedingly good to us, and have got places for us all.  Rose is
+   with Madame la Grace, your mantua-maker, who says she is more handy
+   and more expert at cutting out than girls she has had these three
+   years.  Marianne is in the service of Madame de V---, who has lost a
+   great part of her large fortune, and cannot afford to keep her former
+   waiting-maid.  Madame de V--- is well pleased with Marianne, and bids
+   me tell you that she thanks you for her.  Indeed, Marianne, though she
+   is only fourteen, can do everything her lady wants.  Susanne is with a
+   confectioner.  She gave Sister Frances a box of _bonbons_ of her own
+   making this morning; and Sister Frances, who is a judge, says they are
+   excellent--she only wishes you could taste them.  Annette and I
+   (thanks to your kindness!) are in the same service with Madame
+   Feuillot, the _brodeuse_, to whom you recommended us.  She is not
+   discontented with our work, and, indeed, sent a very civil message
+   yesterday to Sister Frances on this subject; but believe it is too
+   flattering for me to repeat in this letter.  We shall do our best to
+   give her satisfaction.  She is glad to find that we can write
+   tolerably, and that we can make out bills and keep accounts, this
+   being particularly convenient to her at present, as the young man she
+   had in the shop is become an orator, and good for nothing but _la
+   chose publique_; her son, who could have supplied his place, is ill;
+   and Madame Feuillot herself, not having had, as she says, the
+   advantage of such a good education as we have been blessed with,
+   writes but badly, and knows nothing of arithmetic.  Dear Madame de
+   Fleury, how much, how very much we are obliged to you!  We feel it
+   every day more and more; in these times what would have become of us
+   if we could do nothing useful?  Who would, who could be burdened with
+   us?  Dear madame, we owe everything to you--and we can do nothing, not
+   the least thing for you!  My mother is still in bad health, and I fear
+   will never recover; Babet is with her always, and Sister Frances is
+   very good to her.  My brother Maurice is now so good a workman that he
+   earns a louis a week.  He is very steady to his business, and never
+   goes to the revolutionary meetings, though once he had a great mind to
+   be an orator of the people, but never since the day that you explained
+   to him that he knew nothing about equality and the rights of men, &c.
+   How could I forget to tell you, that his master the smith, who was one
+   of your guards, and who assisted you to escape, has returned without
+   suspicion to his former trade? and he declares that he will never more
+   meddle with public affairs.  I gave him the money you left with me for
+   him.  He is very kind to my brother.  Yesterday Maurice mended for
+   Annette's mistress the lock of an English writing-desk, and he mended
+   it so astonishingly well, that an English gentleman, who saw it, could
+   not believe the work was done by a Frenchman; so my brother was sent
+   for, to prove it, and they were forced to believe it.  To-day he has
+   more work than he can finish this twelve-month--all this we owe to
+   you.  I shall never forget the day when you promised that you would
+   grant my brother's wish to be apprenticed to the smith, if I was not
+   in a passion for a month; that cured me of being so passionate.
+
+   "Dear Madame de Fleury, I have written you too long a letter, and not
+   so well as I can write when I am not in a hurry; but I wanted to tell
+   you everything at once, because, may be, I shall not for a long time
+   have so safe an opportunity of sending a letter to you.
+
+   "VICTOIRE."
+
+Several months elapsed before Madame do Fleury received another letter
+from Victoire; it was short and evidently written in great distress of
+mind.  It contained an account of her mother's death.  She was now left
+at the early age of sixteen an orphan.  Madame Feuillot, the _brodeuse_,
+with whom she lived, added few lines to her letter, penned with
+difficulty and strangely spelled, but, expressive of her being highly
+pleased with both the girls recommended to her by Madame de Fleury,
+especially Victoire, who she said was such a treasure to her, that she
+would not part with her on any account, and should consider her as a
+daughter.  "I tell her not to grieve so much; for though she has lost one
+mother she has gained another for herself, who will always love her; and
+besides she is so useful, and in so many ways, with her pen and her
+needle, in accounts, and everything that is wanted in a family or a shop;
+she can never want employment or friends in the worst times, and none can
+be worse than these, especially for such pretty girls as she is, who have
+all their heads turned, and are taught to consider nothing a sin that
+used to be sins.  Many gentlemen, who come to our shop, have found out
+that Victoire is very handsome, and tell her so; but she is so modest and
+prudent that I am not afraid for her.  I could tell you, madame, a good
+anecdote on this subject, but my paper will not allow, and, besides, my
+writing is so difficult."
+
+Above a year elapsed before Madame de Fleury received another letter from
+Victoire: this was in a parcel, of which an emigrant took charge; it
+contained a variety of little offerings from her pupils, instances of
+their ingenuity, their industry, and their affection; the last thing in
+the packet was a small purse labelled in this manner--
+
+"_Savings from our wages and earnings for her who taught us all we
+know_."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+   "Dans sa pompe elegante, admirez Chantilly,
+   De heros en heros, d'age en age, embelli."--DE LILLE.
+
+The health of the good Sister Frances, which had suffered much from the
+shock her mind received at the commencement of the revolution, declined
+so rapidly in the course of the two succeeding years, that she was
+obliged to leave Paris, and she retired to a little village in the
+neighbourhood of Chantilly.  She chose this situation because here she
+was within a morning's walk of Madame de Fleury's country-seat.  The
+Chateau de Fleury had not yet been seized as national property, nor had
+it suffered from the attacks of the mob, though it was in a perilous
+situation, within view of the high road to Paris.  The Parisian populace
+had not yet extended their outrages to this distance from the city, and
+the poor people who lived on the estate of Fleury, attached from habit,
+principle, and gratitude, to their lord, were not disposed to take
+advantage of the disorder of the times, to injure the property of those
+from whom they had all their lives received favours and protection.  A
+faithful old steward had the care of the castle and the grounds.  Sister
+Frances was impatient to talk to him and to visit the chateau, which she
+had never seen; but for some days after her arrival in the village she
+was so much fatigued and so weak that she could not attempt so long a
+walk.  Victoire had obtained permission from her mistress to accompany
+the nun for a few days to the country, as Annette undertook to do all the
+business of the shop during the absence of her companion.  Victoire was
+fully as eager as Sister Frances to see the faithful steward and the
+Chateau de Fleury, and the morning was now fixed for their walk; but in
+the middle of the night they were awakened by the shouts of a mob, who
+had just entered the village fresh from the destruction of a neighbouring
+castle.  The nun and Victoire listened; but in the midst of the horrid
+yells of joy no human voice, no intelligible word could be distinguished;
+they looked through a chink in the window-shutter and they saw the street
+below filled with a crowd of men, whose countenances were by turns
+illuminated by the glare of the torches which they brandished.
+
+"Good Heavens!" whispered the nun to Victoire: "I should know the face of
+that man who is loading his musket--the very man whom I nursed ten years
+ago when he was ill with a gaol fever!"
+
+This man, who stood in the midst of the crowd, taller by the head than
+the others, seemed to be the leader of the party; they were disputing
+whether they should proceed further, spend the remainder of the night in
+the village ale-house, or return to Paris.  Their leader ordered spirits
+to be distributed to his associates, and exhorted them in a loud voice to
+proceed in their glorious work.  Tossing his firebrand over his head he
+declared that he would never return to Paris till he had razed to the
+ground the Chateau de Fleury.  At these words, Victoire, forgetful of all
+personal danger, ran out into the midst of the mob, pressed her way up to
+the leader of these ruffians, caught him by the arm, exclaiming, "You
+will not touch a stone in the Chateau de Fleury--I have my reasons--I say
+you will not suffer a stone in the Chateau de Fleury to be touched."
+
+"And why not?" cried the man, turning astonished; "and who are you that I
+should listen to you?"
+
+"No matter who I am," said Victoire; "follow me and I will show you one
+to whom you will not refuse to listen.  Here!--here she is," continued
+Victoire, pointing to the nun, who had followed her in amazement; "here
+is one to whom you will listen--yes, look at her well: hold the light to
+her face."
+
+The nun, in a supplicating attitude, stood in speechless expectation.
+
+"Ay, I see you have gratitude, I know you will have mercy," cried
+Victoire, watching the workings in the countenance of the man; "you will
+save the Chateau de Fleury for her sake--who saved your life."
+
+"I will," cried this astonished chief of a mob, fired with sudden
+generosity.  "By my faith you are a brave girl, and a fine girl, and know
+how to speak to the heart, and in the right moment.  Friends, citizens,
+this nun, though she is a nun, is good for something.  When I lay ill
+with a fever, and not a soul else to help me, she came and gave me
+medicines and food--in short, I owe my life to her.  'Tis ten years ago,
+but I remember it well, and now it is our turn to rule, and she shall be
+paid as she deserves.  Not a stone of the Chateau de Fleury shall be
+touched!"
+
+With loud acclamations the mob joined in the generous enthusiasm of the
+moment and followed their leader peaceably out of the village.  All this
+passed with such rapidity as scarcely to leave the impression of reality
+upon the mind.  As soon as the sun rose in the morning Victoire looked
+out for the turrets of the Chateau de Fleury, and she saw that they were
+safe--safe in the midst of the surrounding devastation.  Nothing remained
+of the superb palace of Chantilly but the white arches of its foundation.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+   "When thy last breath, ere Nature sank to rest
+   Thy meek submission to thy God expressed;
+   When thy last look, ere thought and feeling fled,
+   A mingled gleam of hope and triumph shed;
+   What to thy soul its glad assurance gave--
+   Its hope in death, its triumph o'er the grave?
+   The sweet remembrance of unblemished youth,
+   Th' inspiring voice of innocence and truth!"--ROGERS.
+
+The good Sister Frances, though she had scarcely recovered from the shock
+of the preceding night, accompanied Victoire to the Chateau de Fleury.
+The gates were opened for them by the old steward and his son Basile, who
+welcomed them with all the eagerness with which people welcome friends in
+time of adversity.  The old man showed them the place; and through every
+apartment of the castle went on talking of former times, and with
+narrative fondness told anecdotes of his dear master and mistress.  Here
+his lady used to sit and read--here was the table at which she wrote--this
+was the sofa on which she and the ladies sat the very last day she was at
+the castle, at the open windows of the hall, whilst all the tenants and
+people of the village were dancing on the green.
+
+"Ay, those were happy times," said the old man; "but they will never
+return."
+
+"Never!  Oh do not say so," cried Victoire.
+
+"Never during my life, at least," said the nun in a low voice, and with a
+look of resignation.
+
+Basile, as he wiped the tears from his eyes, happened to strike his arm
+against the chord of Madame de Fleury's harp, and the sound echoed
+through the room.
+
+"Before this year is at an end," cried Victoire, "perhaps that harp will
+be struck again in this Chateau by Madame de Fleury herself.  Last night
+we could hardly have hoped to see these walls standing this morning, and
+yet it is safe--not a stone touched!  Oh, we shall all live, I hope, to
+see better times!"
+
+Sister Frances smiled, for she would not depress Victoire's enthusiastic
+hope: to please her, the good nun added, that she felt better this
+morning than she had felt for months, and Victoire was happier than she
+had been since Madame de Fleury left France.  But, alas! it was only a
+transient gleam.  Sister Frances relapsed and declined so rapidly, that
+even Victoire, whose mind was almost always disposed to hope, despaired
+of her recovery.  With placid resignation, or rather with mild
+confidence, this innocent and benevolent creature met the approach of
+death.  She seemed attached to earth only by affection for those whom she
+was to leave in this world.  Two of the youngest of the children who had
+formerly been placed under her care, and who were not yet able to earn
+their own subsistence, she kept with her, and in the last days of her
+life she continued her instructions to them with the fond solicitude of a
+parent.  Her father confessor, an excellent man, who never even in these
+dangerous times shrank from his duty, came to Sister Frances in her last
+moments, and relieved her mind from all anxiety, by promising to place
+the two little children with the lady who had been abbess of her convent,
+who would to the utmost of her power protect and provide for them
+suitably.  Satisfied by this promise, the good Sister Frances smiled upon
+Victoire, who stood beside her bed, and with that smile upon her
+countenance expired.--It was some time before the little children seemed
+to comprehend, or to believe, that Sister Frances was dead: they had
+never before seen any one die; they had no idea what it was to die, and
+their first feeling was astonishment; they did not seem to understand why
+Victoire wept.  But the next day when no Sister Frances spoke to them,
+when every hour they missed some accustomed kindness from her,--when
+presently they saw the preparations for her funeral,--when they heard
+that she was to be buried in the earth, and that they should never see
+her more,--they could neither play nor eat, but sat in a corner holding
+each other's hands, and watching everything that was done for the dead by
+Victoire.
+
+In those times, the funeral of a nun, with a priest attending, would not
+have been permitted by the populace.  It was therefore performed as
+secretly as possible: in the middle of the night the coffin was carried
+to the burial-place of the Fleury family; the old steward, his son
+Basile, Victoire, and the good father confessor, were the only persons
+present.  It is necessary to mention this, because the facts were
+afterwards misrepresented.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+   "The character is lost!
+   Her head adorned with lappets, pinned aloft,
+   And ribands streaming gay, superbly raised,
+   Indebted to some smart wig-weaver's hand
+   For more than half the tresses it sustains."--COWPER.
+
+Upon her return to Paris, Victoire felt melancholy; but she exerted
+herself as much as possible in her usual occupation; finding that
+employment and the consciousness of doing her duty were the best remedies
+for sorrow.
+
+One day as she was busy settling Madame Feuillot's accounts a servant
+came into the shop and inquired for Mademoiselle Victoire: he presented
+her a note, which she found rather difficult to decipher.  It was signed
+by her cousin Manon, who desired to see Victoire at her hotel.  "_Her
+hotel_!" repeated Victoire with astonishment.  The servant assured her
+that one of the finest hotels in Paris belonged to his lady, and that he
+was commissioned to show her the way to it.  Victoire found her cousin in
+a magnificent house, which had formerly belonged to the Prince de Salms.
+Manon, dressed in the disgusting, indecent extreme of the mode, was
+seated under a richly-fringed canopy.  She burst into a loud laugh as
+Victoire entered.
+
+"You look just as much astonished as I expected," cried she.  "Great
+changes have happened since I saw you last--I always told you, Victoire,
+I knew the world better than you did.  What has come of all your
+schooling, and your mighty goodness, and your gratitude truly?  Your
+patroness is banished and a beggar, and you a drudge in the shop of a
+_brodeuse_, who makes you work your fingers to the bone, no doubt.  Now
+you shall see the difference.  Let me show you my house; you know it was
+formerly the hotel of the Prince de Salms, he that was guillotined the
+other day; but you know nothing, for you have been out of Paris this
+month, I understand.  Then I must tell you that my friend Villeneuf has
+acquired an immense fortune! by assignats made in the course of a
+fortnight.  I say an immense fortune! and has bought this fine house.  Now
+do you begin to understand?"
+
+"I do not clearly know whom you mean by 'your friend Villeneuf,'" said
+Victoire.
+
+"The hairdresser who lived in our street," said Manon; "he became a great
+patriot, you know, and orator; and, what with his eloquence and his luck
+in dealing in assignats, he has made his fortune and mine."
+
+"And yours! then he is your husband?"
+
+"That does not follow--that is not necessary--but do not look so
+shocked--everybody goes on the sane way now; besides, I had no other
+resource--I must have starved--I could not earn my bread as you do.
+Besides, I was too delicate for hard work of any sort--and besides--but
+come, let me show you my house--you have no idea how fine it is."
+
+With anxious ostentation Manon displayed all her riches to excite
+Victoire's envy.
+
+"Confess, Victoire," said she at last, "that you think me the happiest
+person you have ever known.--You do not answer; whom did you ever know
+that was happier?"
+
+"Sister Frances, who died last week, appeared to be much happier," said
+Victoire.
+
+"The poor nun!" said Manon, disdainfully.  "Well, and whom do you think
+the next happiest?"
+
+"Madame de Fleury."
+
+"An exile and a beggar!--Oh, you are jesting now, Victoire--or--envious.
+With that sanctified face, citoyenne--perhaps I should say
+Mademoiselle--Victoire you would be delighted to change places with me
+this instant.  Come, you shall stay with me a week to try how you like
+it."
+
+"Excuse me," said Victoire, firmly; "I cannot stay with you, Manon; you
+have chosen one way of life and I another--quite another.  I do not
+repent my choice--may you never repent yours!--Farewell!"
+
+"Bless me! what airs! and with what dignity she looks!  Repent of my
+choice!--a likely thing, truly.  Am not I at the top of the wheel?"
+
+"And may not the wheel turn?" said Victoire.
+
+"Perhaps it may," said Manon; "but till it does I will enjoy myself.
+Since you are of a different humour, return to Madame Feuillot, and
+figure upon cambric and muslin, and make out bills, and nurse old nuns
+all the days of your life.  You will never persuade me, however, that you
+would not change places with me if you could.  Stay till you are tried,
+Mademoiselle Victoire.  Who was ever in love with you or your
+virtues?--Stay till you are tried."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+   "But beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree,
+   Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard
+   Of dragon watch with unenchanted eye
+   To save her blossoms, or defend her fruit."--MILTON.
+
+The trial was nearer than either Manon or Victoire expected.  Manon had
+scarcely pronounced the last words when the ci-devant hairdresser burst
+into the room, accompanied by several of his political associates, who
+met to consult measures for the good of the nation.  Among these patriots
+was the Abbe Tracassier.
+
+"Who is that pretty girl who is with you, Manon?" whispered he; "a friend
+of yours, I hope?"
+
+Victoire left the room immediately, but not before the profligate abbe
+had seen enough to make him wish to see more.  The next day he went to
+Madame Feuillot's under pretence of buying some embroidered
+handkerchiefs; he paid Victoire a profusion of extravagant compliments,
+which made no impression upon her innocent heart, and which appeared
+ridiculous to her plain good sense.  She did not know who he was, nor did
+Madame Feuillot; for though she had often heard of the abbe, yet she had
+never seen him.  Several succeeding days he returned, and addressed
+himself to Victoire, each time with increasing freedom.  Madame Feuillot,
+who had the greatest confidence in her, left her entirely to her own
+discretion.  Victoire begged her friend Annette to do the business of the
+shop, and stayed at work in the back parlour.  Tracassier was much
+disappointed by her absence; but as he thought no great ceremony
+necessary in his proceedings, he made his name known in a haughty manner
+to Madame de Feuillot, and desired that he might be admitted into the
+back parlour, as he had something of consequence to say to Mademoiselle
+Victoire in private.  Our readers will not require to have a detailed
+account of this _tete-a-tete_; it is sufficient to say that the
+disappointed and exasperated abbe left the house muttering imprecations.
+The next morning a note came to Victoire apparently from Manon: it was
+directed by her, but the inside was written by an unknown hand, and
+continued these words:--
+
+"You are a charming, but incomprehensible girl--since you do not like
+compliments, you shall not be addressed with empty flattery.  It is in
+the power of the person who dictates this, not only to make you as rich
+and great as your cousin Manon, but also to restore to fortune and to
+their country the friends for whom, you are most interested.  Their fate
+as well as your own is in your power: if you send a favourable answer to
+this note, the persons alluded to will, to-morrow, be struck from the
+list of emigrants, and reinstated in their former possessions.  If your
+answer is decidedly unfavourable, the return of your friends to France
+will be thenceforward impracticable, and their chateau, as well as their
+house in Paris, will be declared national property, and sold without
+delay to the highest bidder.  To you, who have as much understanding as
+beauty, it is unnecessary to say more.  Consult your heart, charming
+Victoire! be happy, and make others happy.  This moment is decisive of
+your fate and of theirs, for you have to answer a man of a most decided
+character."
+
+Victoire's answer was as follows:--
+
+"My friends would not, I am sure, accept of their fortune, or consent to
+return to their country, upon the conditions proposed; therefore I have
+no merit in rejecting them."
+
+Victoire had early acquired good principles, and that plain steady good
+sense, which goes straight to its object, without being dazzled or
+imposed upon by sophistry.  She was unacquainted with the refinements of
+sentiment, but she distinctly knew right from wrong, and had sufficient
+resolution to abide by the right.  Perhaps many romantic heroines might
+have thought it a generous self-devotion to have become in similar
+circumstances the mistress of Tracassier; and those who are skilled "to
+make the worst appear the better cause" might have made such an act of
+heroism the foundation of an interesting, or at least a fashionable
+novel.  Poor Victoire had not received an education sufficiently refined
+to enable her to understand these mysteries of sentiment.  She was even
+simple enough to flatter herself that this libertine patriot would not
+fulfil his threats, and that these had been made only with a view to
+terrify her into compliance.  In this opinion, however, she found herself
+mistaken.  M. Tracassier was indeed a man of the most decided character,
+if this form may properly be applied to those who act uniformly in
+consequence of their ruling passion.  The Chateau de Fleury was seized as
+national property.  Victoire heard this bad news from the old steward,
+who was turned out of the castle, along with his son, the very day after
+her rejection of the proposed conditions.
+
+"I could not have believed that any human creature could be so wicked!"
+exclaimed Victoire, glowing with indignation: but indignation gave way to
+sorrow.
+
+"And the Chateau de Fleury is really seized?--and you, good old man, are
+turned out of the place where you were born?--and you too, Basile?--and
+Madame de Fleury will never come back again!--and perhaps she may be put
+into prison in a foreign country, and may die for want--and I might have
+prevented all this!"
+
+Unable to shed a tear, Victoire stood in silent consternation, whilst
+Annette explained to the good steward and his son the whole transaction.
+Basile, who was naturally of an impetuous temper, was so transported with
+indignation, that he would have gone instantly with the note from
+Tracassier to denounce him before the whole National Convention, if he
+had not been restrained by his more prudent father.  The old steward
+represented to him, that as the note was neither signed nor written by
+the hand of Tracassier, no proof could be brought home to him, and the
+attempt to convict one of so powerful a party would only bring certain
+destruction upon the accusers.  Besides, such was at this time the
+general depravity of manners, that numbers would keep the guilty in
+countenance.  There was no crime which the mask of patriotism could not
+cover.  "There is one comfort we have in our misfortunes, which these men
+can never have," said the old man; "when their downfall comes, and come
+it will most certainly, they will not feel as we do, INNOCENT.  Victoire,
+look up! and do not give way to despair--all will yet be well."
+
+"At all events, you have done what is right--so do not reproach
+yourself," said Basile.  "Everybody--I mean everybody who is good for
+anything--must respect, admire, and love you, Victoire."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+   "Ne mal cio che v'annoja,
+   Quello e vero gioire
+   Che nasce da virtude dopo il soffrire."
+
+Basile had not seen without emotion the various instances of goodness
+which Victoire showed during the illness of Sister Frances.  Her conduct
+towards M. Tracassier increased his esteem and attachment; but he forbore
+to declare his affection, because he could not, consistently with
+prudence, or with gratitude to his father, think of marrying, now that he
+was not able to maintain a wife and family.  The honest earnings of many
+years of service had been wrested from the old steward at the time the
+Chateau de Fleury was seized, and he now depended on the industry of his
+son for the daily support of his age.  His dependence was just, and not
+likely to be disappointed; for he had given his son an education suitable
+to his condition in life.  Basile was an exact arithmetician, could write
+an excellent hand, and was a ready draughtsman and surveyor.  To bring
+these useful talents into action, and to find employment for them with
+men by whom they would be honestly rewarded, was the only difficulty--a
+difficulty which Victoire's brother Maurice soon removed.  His reputation
+as a smith had introduced him, among his many customers, to a gentleman
+of worth and scientific knowledge, who was at this time employed to make
+models and plans of all the fortified places in Europe; he was in want of
+a good clerk and draughtsman, of whose integrity he could be secure.
+Maurice mentioned his friend Basile; and upon inquiry into his character,
+and upon trial of his abilities, he was found suited to the place, and
+was accepted.  By his well-earned salary he supported himself and his
+father; and began, with the sanguine hopes of a young man, to flatter
+himself that he should soon be rich enough to marry, and that then he
+might declare his attachment to Victoire.  Notwithstanding all his
+boasted prudence, he had betrayed sufficient symptoms of his passion to
+have rendered a declaration unnecessary to any clear-sighted observer:
+but Victoire was not thinking of conquests; she was wholly occupied with
+a scheme of earning a certain sum of money for her benefactress, who was
+now, as she feared, in want.  All Madame de Fleury's former pupils
+contributed their share to the common stock; and the mantua-maker, the
+confectioner, the servants of different sorts, who had been educated at
+her school, had laid by, during the years of her banishment, an annual
+portion of their wages and savings: with the sum which Victoire now added
+to the fund, it amounted to ten thousand livres.  The person who
+undertook to carry this money to Madame de Fleury, was Francois, her
+former footman, who had procured a pass to go to England as a
+hairdresser.  The night before he set out was a happy night for Victoire,
+as all her companions met, by Madame Feuillot's invitation, at her house;
+and after tea they had the pleasure of packing up the little box, in
+which each, besides the money, sent some token their gratitude, and some
+proof of their ingenuity.  They would with all their hearts have sent
+twice as many _souvenirs_ as Francois could carry.
+
+"D'abord c'est impossible!" cried he, when he saw the box that was
+prepared for him to carry to England: but his good nature was unable to
+resist the entreaties of each to have her offering carried, "which would
+take up no room."
+
+He departed--arrived safe in England--found out Madame de Fleury, who was
+in real distress, in obscure lodgings at Richmond.  He delivered the
+money, and all the presents of which he had taken charge: but the person
+to whom she entrusted a letter, in answer to Victoire, was not so
+punctual, or was more unlucky: for the letter never reached her, and she
+and her companions were long uncertain whether their little treasure had
+been received.  They still continued, however, with indefatigable
+gratitude, to lay by a portion of their earnings for their benefactress;
+and the pleasure they had in this perseverance made them more than amends
+for the loss of some little amusements, and for privations to which they
+submitted in consequence of their resolution.
+
+In the meantime, Basile, going on steadily with his employments, advanced
+every day in the favour of his master, and his salary was increased in
+proportion to his abilities and industry; so that he thought he could
+now, without any imprudence, marry.  He consulted his father, who
+approved of his choice; he consulted Maurice as to the probability of his
+being accepted by Victoire; and encouraged by both his father and his
+friend, he was upon the eve of addressing himself to Victoire, when he
+was prevented by a new and unforeseen misfortune.  His father was taken
+up, by an emissary of Tracassier's, and brought before one of their
+revolutionary committees, where he was accused of various acts of
+_incivisme_.  Among other things equally criminal, it was proved that one
+Sunday, when he went to see Le Petit Trianon, then a public-house, he
+exclaimed, "C'est ici que le canaille danse, et que les honnetes gens
+pleurent!"
+
+Basile was present at this mock examination of his father--he saw him on
+the point of being dragged to prison--when a hint was given that he might
+save his father by enlisting immediately, and going with the army out of
+France.  Victoire was full in Basile's recollection; but there was no
+other means of saving his father.  He enlisted, and in twenty-four hours
+left Paris.
+
+What appear to be the most unfortunate circumstances of life often prove
+ultimately the most advantageous--indeed, those who have knowledge,
+activity, and integrity, can convert the apparent blanks in the lottery
+of fortune into prizes.  Basile was recommended to his commanding officer
+by the gentleman who had lately employed him as a clerk; his skill in
+drawing plans, and in taking rapid surveys of the country through which
+they passed, was extremely useful to his general, and his integrity made
+it safe to trust him as a secretary.  His commanding officer, though a
+brave man, was illiterate, and a secretary was to him a necessary of
+life.  Basile was not only useful, but agreeable; without any mean arts,
+or servile adulation, he pleased by simply showing the desire to oblige
+and the ability to serve.
+
+"Diable!" exclaimed the general one day, as he looked at Basile's plan of
+a town which the army was besieging.  "How comes it that you are able to
+do all these things?  But you have a genius for this sort of work,
+apparently."
+
+"No, sir," said Basile, "these things were taught to me when I was a
+child by a good friend."
+
+"A good friend he was, indeed! he did more for you than if he had given
+you a fortune; for, in these times, that might have been soon taken from
+you; but now you have the means of making a fortune for yourself."
+
+This observation of the general's, obvious as it may seem, is deserving
+of the serious consideration of those who have children of their own to
+educate, or who have the disposal of money for public charities.  In
+these times no sensible person will venture to pronounce that a change of
+fortune and station may not await the highest and the lowest; whether we
+rise or fall in the scale of society, personal qualities and knowledge
+will be valuable.  Those who fall cannot be destitute, and those who rise
+cannot be ridiculous or contemptible, if they have been prepared for
+their fortune by proper education.  In shipwreck those who carry their
+all in their minds are the most secure.
+
+But to return to Basile.  He had sense enough not to make his general
+jealous of him by any unseasonable display of his talents, or any
+officious intrusion of advice, even upon subjects which he best
+understood.
+
+The talents of the warrior and the secretary were in such different
+lines, that there was no danger of competition; and the general, finding
+in his secretary the soul of all the arts, good sense, gradually acquired
+the habit of asking his opinion on every subject that came within his
+department.  It happened that the general received orders from the
+Directory at Paris to take a certain town, let it cost what it would,
+within a given time: in his perplexity he exclaimed before Basile against
+the unreasonableness of these orders, and declared his belief that it was
+impossible he should succeed, and that this was only a scheme of his
+enemies to prepare his ruin.  Basile had attended to the operations of
+the engineer who acted under the general, and perfectly recollected the
+model of the mines of this town, which he had seen when he was employed
+as draughtsman by his Parisian friend.  He remembered that there was
+formerly an old mine that had been stopped up somewhere near the place
+where the engineer was at work; he mentioned in private his suspicions to
+the general, who gave orders in consequence.  The old mine was
+discovered, cleared out, and by these means the town was taken the day
+before the time appointed.  Basile did not arrogate to himself any of the
+glory of this success; he kept his general's secret and his confidence.
+Upon their return to Paris, after a fortunate campaign, the general was
+more grateful than some others have been, perhaps because more room was
+given by Basile's prudence for the exercise of this virtue.
+
+"My friend," said he to Basile, "you have done me a great service by your
+counsel, and a greater still by holding your tongue.  Speak now, and tell
+me freely if there is anything I can do for you.  You see, as a
+victorious general, I have the upper hand amongst these
+fellows--Tracassier's scheme to ruin me missed--whatever I ask will at
+this moment be granted; speak freely, therefore."
+
+Basile asked what he knew Victoire most desired--that Monsieur and Madame
+de Fleury should be struck from the list of emigrants, and that their
+property now in the hands of the nation should be restored to them.  The
+general promised that this should be done.  A warm contest ensued upon
+the subject between him and Tracassier, but the general stood firm; and
+Tracassier, enraged, forgot his usual cunning, and quarrelling
+irrevocably with a party now more powerful than his own, he and his
+adherents were driven from that station in which they had so long
+tyrannised.  From being the rulers of France, they in a few hours became
+banished men, or, in the phrase of the times, _des deportes_.
+
+We must not omit to mention the wretched end of Manon.  The man with whom
+she lived perished by the guillotine.  From his splendid house she went
+upon the stage, did not succeed, sank from one degree of profligacy to
+another, and at last died in an hospital.
+
+In the meantime, the order for the restoration of the Fleury property,
+and for permission for the Fleury family to return to France, was made
+out in due form, and Maurice begged to be the messenger of these good
+tidings--he set out for England with the order.
+
+Victoire immediately went down to the Chateau de Fleury, to get
+everything in readiness for the reception of the family.
+
+Exiles are expeditious in their return to their native country.  Victoire
+had but just time to complete her preparations, when Monsieur and Madame
+de Fleury arrived at Calais.  Victoire had assembled all her companions,
+all Madame de Fleury's former pupils; and the hour when she was expected
+home, they, with the peasants of the neighbourhood, were all in their
+holiday clothes, and, according to the custom of the country, singing and
+dancing.  Without music and dancing there is no perfect joy in France.
+Never was _fete du village_ or _fete du Seigneur_ more joyful than this.
+
+The old steward opened the gate, the carriage drove in.  Madame de Fleury
+saw that home which she had little expected evermore to behold, but all
+other thoughts were lost in the pleasure of meeting her beloved pupils.
+
+"My children!" cried she, as they crowded round her the moment she got
+out of her carriage--"my dear, _good_ children!"
+
+It was all she could say.  She leaned on Victoire's arm as she went into
+the house, and by degrees recovering from the almost painful excess of
+pleasure, began to enjoy what she yet only confusedly felt.
+
+Several of her pupils were so much grown and altered in their external
+appearance, that she could scarcely recollect them till they spoke, and
+then their voices and the expression of their countenances brought their
+childhood fully to her memory.  Victoire, she thought, was changed the
+least, and at this she rejoiced.
+
+The feeling and intelligent reader will imagine all the pleasure that
+Madame de Fleury enjoyed this day; nor was it merely the pleasure of a
+day.  She heard from all her friends, with prolonged satisfaction,
+repeated accounts of the good conduct of these young people during her
+absence.  She learned with delight how her restoration to her country and
+her fortune had been effected; and is it necessary to add, that Victoire
+consented to marry Basile, and that she was suitably portioned, and, what
+is better still, that she was perfectly happy?  Monsieur de Fleury
+rewarded the attachment and good conduct of Maurice by taking him into
+his service, and making him his manager under the old steward at the
+Chateau de Fleury.
+
+On Victoire's wedding-day Madame de Fleury produced all the little
+offerings of gratitude which she had received from her and her companions
+during her exile.  It was now her turn to confer favours, and she knew
+how to confer them both with grace and judgment.
+
+"No gratitude in human nature!  No gratitude in the lower classes of the
+people!" cried she; "how much those are mistaken who think so!  I wish
+they could know my history, and the history of these my children, and
+they would acknowledge their error."
+
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES
+
+
+{1}  "Whom the gods wish to destroy, they first deprive of
+understanding."
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MURAD THE UNLUCKY AND OTHER TALES***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 2129.txt or 2129.zip *******
+
+
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/2/2129
+
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
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diff --git a/old/2129.zip b/old/2129.zip
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+++ b/old/murad10.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,5409 @@
+The Project Gutenberg Etext of Murad the Unlucky and Other Tales
+#3 in our series by Maria Edgeworth
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+*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END*
+
+
+
+
+
+This etext was prepared by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk
+from the 1891 Cassell and Company edition.
+
+
+
+
+
+MURAD THE UNLUCKY AND OTHER TALES
+
+by Maria Edgeworth
+
+
+
+
+Contents:
+
+
+Introduction
+Murad the Unlucky
+The Limerick Gloves
+Madame de Fleury
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+
+Maria Edgeworth came of a lively family which had settled in
+Ireland in the latter part of the sixteenth century.  Her father at
+the age of five-and-twenty inherited the family estates at
+Edgeworths-town in 1769.  He had snatched an early marriage, which
+did not prove happy.  He had a little son, whom he was educating
+upon the principles set forth in Rousseau's "Emile," and a daughter
+Maria, who was born on the 1st of January, 1767.  He was then
+living at Hare Hatch, near Maidenhead.  In March, 1773, his first
+wife died after giving birth to a daughter named Anna.  In July,
+1773, he married again, Honora Sneyd, and went to live in Ireland,
+taking with him his daughter Maria, who was then about six years
+old.  Two years afterwards she was sent from Ireland to a school at
+Derby.  In April, 1780, her father's second wife died, and advised
+him upon her death-bed to marry her sister Elizabeth.  He married
+his deceased wife's sister on the next following Christmas Day.
+Maria Edgeworth was in that year removed to a school in London, and
+her holidays were often spent with  her father's friend Thomas Day,
+the author of "Sandford and Merton," an eccentric enthusiast who
+lived then at Anningsley, in Surrey.
+
+Maria Edgeworth--always a little body--was conspicuous among her
+schoolfellows for quick wit, and was apt alike for study and
+invention.  She was story-teller general to the community.  In
+1782, at the age of fifteen, she left school and went home with her
+father and his third wife, who then settled finally at
+Edgeworthstown.
+
+At Edgeworthstown Richard Lovell Edgeworth now became active in the
+direct training of his children, in the improvement of his estate,
+and in schemes for the improvement of the country.  His eldest
+daughter, Maria, showing skill with the pen, he made her more and
+more his companion and fellow-worker to good ends.  She kept
+household accounts, had entrusted to her the whole education of a
+little brother, wrote stories on a slate and read them to the
+family, wiped them off when not approved, and copied them in ink if
+they proved popular with the home public.  Miss Edgeworth's first
+printed book was a plea for the education of women, "Letters to
+Literary Ladies," published in 1795, when her age was eight-and-
+twenty.  Next year, 1796, working with her father, she produced the
+first volume of the "Parent's Assistant."  In November, 1797, when
+Miss Edgeworth's age was nearly thirty-one, her father, then aged
+fifty-three, lost his third wife, and he married a fourth in the
+following May.  The fourth wife, at first objected to, was young
+enough to be a companion and friend, and between her and Maria
+Edgeworth a fast friendship came to be established.  In the year of
+her father's fourth marriage Maria joined him in the production of
+two volumes on "Practical Education."  Then followed books for
+children, including "Harry and Lucy," which had been begun by her
+father years before in partnership with his second wife, when
+Thomas Day began writing "Sandford and Merton," with the original
+intention that it should be worked in as a part of the whole
+scheme.
+
+In the year 1800 Miss Edgeworth, thirty-three years old, began her
+independent career as a novelist with "Castle Rackrent;" and from
+that time on, work followed work in illustration of the power of a
+woman of genius to associate quick wit and quick feeling with sound
+sense and a good reason for speaking.  Sir Walter Scott in his
+frank way declared that he received an impulse from Miss
+Edgeworth's example as a storyteller.  In the general preface to
+his own final edition of the Waverley Novels he said that "Without
+being so presumptuous as to hope to emulate the rich humour,
+pathetic tenderness, and admirable tact, which pervade the works of
+my accomplished friend, I felt that something might be attempted
+for my own country of the same kind with that which Miss Edgeworth
+so fortunately achieved for Ireland--something which might
+introduce her natives to those of the sister kingdom in a more
+favourable light than they had been placed hitherto, and tend to
+procure sympathy for their virtues and indulgence for their
+foibles."
+
+Of the three stories in this volume, who--"Murad the Unlucky" and
+"The Limerick Gloves"--first appeared in three volumes of "Popular
+Tales," which were first published in 1804, with a short
+introduction by Miss Edgeworth's father.  "Madame de Fleury" was
+written a few years later.
+
+H. M.
+
+
+
+
+MURAD THE UNLUCKY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+
+It is well known that the grand seignior amuses himself by going at
+night, in disguise, through streets of Constantinople; as the
+caliph Haroun Alraschid used formerly to do in Bagdad.
+
+One moonlight night, accompanied by his grand vizier, he traversed
+several of the principal streets of the city without seeing
+anything remarkable.  At length, as they were passing a rope-
+maker's, the sultan recollected the Arabian story of Cogia-Hassan
+Alhabal, the rope-maker, and his two friends, Saad and Saadi, who
+differed so much in their opinion concerning the influence of
+fortune over human affairs.
+
+"What is your opinion on this subject?" said the grand seignior to
+his vizier.
+
+"I am inclined, please your majesty," replied the vizier, "to think
+that success in the world depends more upon prudence than upon what
+is called luck, or fortune."
+
+"And I," said the sultan, "am persuaded that fortune does more for
+men than prudence.  Do you not every day hear of persons who are
+said to be fortunate or unfortunate?  How comes it that this
+opinion should prevail amongst men, if it be not justified by
+experience?"
+
+"It is not for me to dispute with your majesty," replied the
+prudent vizier.
+
+"Speak your mind freely; I desire and command it," said the sultan.
+
+"Then I am of opinion," answered the vizier, "that people are often
+led to believe others fortunate, or unfortunate, merely because
+they only know the general outline of their histories; and are
+ignorant of the incidents and events in which they have shown
+prudence or imprudence.  I have heard, for instance, that there are
+at present, in this city, two men, who are remarkable for their
+good and bad fortune:  one is called Murad the Unlucky, and the
+other Saladin the Lucky.  Now, I am inclined to think, if we could
+hear their stories, we should find that one is a prudent and the
+other an imprudent character."
+
+"Where do these men live?" interrupted the sultan.  "I will hear
+their histories from their own lips before I sleep."
+
+"Murad the Unlucky lives in the next square," said the vizier.
+
+The sultan desired to go thither immediately.  Scarcely had they
+entered the square, when they heard the cry of loud lamentations.
+They followed the sound till they came to a house of which the door
+was open, and where there was a man tearing his turban, and weeping
+bitterly.  They asked the cause of his distress, and he pointed to
+the fragments of a china vase, which lay on the pavement at his
+door.
+
+"This seems undoubtedly to be beautiful china," said the sultan,
+taking up one of the broken pieces; "but can the loss of a china
+vase be the cause of such violent grief and despair?"
+
+"Ah, gentlemen," said the owner of the vase, suspending his
+lamentations, and looking at the dress of the pretended merchants,
+"I see that you are strangers:  you do not know how much cause I
+have for grief and despair!  You do not know that you are speaking
+to Murad the Unlucky!  Were you to hear all the unfortunate
+accidents that have happened to me, from the time I was born till
+this instant, you would perhaps pity me, and acknowledge I have
+just cause for despair."
+
+Curiosity was strongly expressed by the sultan; and the hope of
+obtaining sympathy inclined Murad to gratify it by the recital of
+his adventures.  "Gentlemen," said he, "I scarcely dare invite you
+into the house of such an unlucky being as I am; but if you will
+venture to take a night's lodging under my roof, you shall hear at
+your leisure the story of my misfortunes."
+
+The sultan and the vizier excused themselves from spending the
+night with Murad, saying that they were obliged to proceed to their
+khan, where they should be expected by their companions; but they
+begged permission to repose themselves for half an hour in his
+house, and besought him to relate the history of his life, if it
+would not renew his grief too much to recollect his misfortunes.
+
+Few men are so miserable as not to like to talk of their
+misfortunes, where they have, or where they think they have, any
+chance of obtaining compassion.  As soon as the pretended merchants
+were seated, Murad began his story in the following manner:-
+
+"My father was a merchant of this city.  The night before I was
+born he dreamed that I came into the world with the head of a dog
+and the tail of a dragon; and that, in haste to conceal my
+deformity, he rolled me up in a piece of linen, which unluckily
+proved to be the grind seignior's turban; who, enraged at his
+insolence in touching his turban, commanded that his head should be
+struck off.
+
+"My father awaked before he lost his head, but not before he had
+lost half his wits from the terror of his dream.  He considered it
+as a warning sent from above, and consequently determined to avoid
+the sight of me.  He would not stay to see whether I should really
+be born with the head of a dog and the tail of a dragon; but he set
+out, the next morning, on a voyage to Aleppo.
+
+"He was absent for upwards of seven years; and during that time my
+education was totally neglected.  One day I inquired from my mother
+why I had been named Murad the Unlucky.  She told me that this name
+was given to me in consequence of my father's dream; but she added
+that perhaps it might be forgotten, if I proved fortunate in my
+future life.  My nurse, a very old woman, who was present, shook
+her head, with a look which I shall never forget, and whispered to
+my mother loud enough for me to hear, 'Unlucky he was, and is, and
+ever will be.  Those that are born to ill luck cannot help
+themselves; nor can any, but the great prophet, Mahomet himself, do
+anything for them.  It is a folly for an unlucky person to strive
+with their fate:  it is better to yield to it at once.'
+
+"This speech made a terrible impression upon me, young as I then
+was; and every accident that happened to me afterwards confirmed my
+belief in my nurse's prognostic.  I was in my eighth year when my
+father returned from abroad.  The year after he came home my
+brother Saladin was born, who was named Saladin the Lucky, because
+the day he was born a vessel freighted with rich merchandise for my
+father arrived safely in port.
+
+"I will not weary you with a relation of all the little instances
+of good fortune by which my brother Saladin was distinguished, even
+during his childhood.  As he grew up, his success in everything he
+undertook was as remarkable as my ill luck in all that I attempted.
+From the time the rich vessel arrived, we lived in splendour; and
+the supposed prosperous state of my father's affairs was of course
+attributed to the influence of my brother Saladin's happy destiny.
+
+"When Saladin was about twenty, my father was taken dangerously
+ill; and as he felt that he should not recover, he sent for my
+brother to the side of his bed, and, to his great surprise,
+informed him that the magnificence in which we had lived had
+exhausted all his wealth; that his affairs were in the greatest
+disorder; for, having trusted to the hope of continual success, he
+had embarked in projects beyond his powers.
+
+"The sequel was, he had nothing remaining to leave to his children
+but two large china vases, remarkable for their beauty, but still
+more valuable on account of certain verses inscribed upon them in
+an unknown character, which were supposed to operate as a talisman
+or charm in favour of their possessors.
+
+"Both these vases my father bequeathed to my brother Saladin;
+declaring he could not venture to leave either of them to me,
+because I was so unlucky that I should inevitably break it.  After
+his death, however, my brother Saladin, who was blessed with a
+generous temper, gave me my choice of the two vases; and
+endeavoured to raise my spirits by repeating frequently that he had
+no faith either in good fortune or ill fortune.
+
+"I could not be of his opinion, though I felt and acknowledged his
+kindness in trying to persuade me out of my settled melancholy.  I
+knew it was in vain for me to exert myself, because I was sure
+that, do what I would, I should still be Murad the Unlucky.  My
+brother, on the contrary, was nowise cast down, even by the poverty
+in which my father left us:  he said he was sure he should find
+some means of maintaining himself; and so he did.
+
+"On examining our china vases, he found in them a powder of a
+bright scarlet colour; and it occurred to him that it would make a
+fine dye.  He tried it, and after some trouble, it succeeded to
+admiration.
+
+"During my father's lifetime, my mother had been supplied with rich
+dresses by one of the merchants who was employed by the ladies of
+the grand seignior's seraglio.  My brother had done this merchant
+some trifling favours, and, upon application to him, he readily
+engaged to recommend the new scarlet dye.  Indeed, it was so
+beautiful, that, the moment it was seen, it was preferred to every
+other colour.  Saladin's shop was soon crowded with customers; and
+his winning manners and pleasant conversation were almost as
+advantageous to him as his scarlet dye.  On the contrary, I
+observed that the first glance at my melancholy countenance was
+sufficient to disgust every one who saw me.  I perceived this
+plainly; and it only confirmed me the more in my belief in my own
+evil destiny.
+
+"It happened one day that a lady, richly apparelled and attended by
+two female slaves, came to my brother's house to make some
+purchases.  He was out, and I alone was left to attend to the shop.
+After she had looked over some goods, she chanced to see my china
+vase, which was in the room.  She took a prodigious fancy to it,
+and offered me any price if I would part with it; but this I
+declined doing, because I believed that I should draw down upon my
+head some dreadful calamity if I voluntarily relinquished the
+talisman.  Irritated by my refusal, the lady, according to the
+custom of her sex, became more resolute in her purpose; but neither
+entreaties nor money could change my determination.  Provoked
+beyond measure at my obstinacy, as she called it, she left the
+house.
+
+"On my brother's return, I related to him what had happened, and
+expected that he would have praised me for my prudence; but, on the
+contrary, he blamed me for the superstitious value I set upon the
+verses on my vase; and observed that it would be the height of
+folly to lose a certain means of advancing my fortune for the
+uncertain hope of magical protection.  I could not bring myself to
+be of his opinion; I had not the courage to follow the advice he
+gave.  The next day the lady returned, and my brother sold his vase
+to her for ten thousand pieces of gold.  This money he laid out in
+the most advantageous manner, by purchasing a new stock of
+merchandise.  I repented when it was too late; but I believe it is
+part of the fatality attending certain persons, that they cannot
+decide rightly at the proper moment.  When the opportunity has been
+lost, I have always regretted that I did not do exactly the
+contrary to what I had previously determined upon.  Often, whilst I
+was hesitating, the favourable moment passed. {1}  Now this is what
+I call being unlucky.  But to proceed with my story.
+
+"The lady who bought my brother Saladin's vase was the favourite of
+the Sultan, and all-powerful in the seraglio.  Her dislike to me,
+in consequence of my opposition to her wishes, was so violent, that
+she refused to return to my brother's house while I remained there.
+He was unwilling to part with me; but I could not bear to be the
+ruin of so good a brother.  Without telling him my design, I left
+his house careless of what should become of me.  Hunger, however,
+soon compelled me to think of some immediate mode of obtaining
+relief.  I sat down upon a stone, before the door of a baker's
+shop:  the smell of hot bread tempted me in, and with a feeble
+voice I demanded charity.
+
+"The master baker gave me as much bread as I could eat, upon
+condition that I should change dresses with him and carry the rolls
+for him through the city this day.  To this I readily consented;
+but I had soon reason to repent of my compliance.  Indeed, if my
+ill-luck had not, as usual, deprived me at this critical moment of
+memory and judgment, I should never have complied with the baker's
+treacherous proposal.  For some time before, the people of
+Constantinople had been much dissatisfied with the weight and
+quality of the bread furnished by the bakers.  This species of
+discontent has often been the sure forerunner of an insurrection;
+and, in these disturbances, the master bakers frequently lose their
+lives.  All these circumstances I knew, but they did not occur to
+my memory when they might have been useful.
+
+"I changed dresses with the baker; but scarcely had I proceeded
+through the adjoining streets with my rolls before the mob began to
+gather round me with reproaches and execrations.  The crowd pursued
+me even to the gates of the grand seignior's palace, and the grand
+vizier, alarmed at their violence, sent out an order to have my
+head struck off; the usual remedy, in such cases, being to strike
+off the baker's head.
+
+"I now fell upon my knees, and protested I was not the baker for
+whom they took me; that I had no connection with him; and that I
+had never furnished the people of Constantinople with bread that
+was not weight.  I declared I had merely changed clothes with a
+master baker for this day, and that I should not have done so but
+for the evil destiny which governs all my actions.  Some of the mob
+exclaimed that I deserved to lose my head for my folly; but others
+took pity on me, and whilst the officer, who was sent to execute
+the vizier's order, turned to speak to some of the noisy rioters,
+those who were touched by my misfortune opened a passage for me
+through the crowd, and thus favoured, I effected my escape.
+
+"I quitted Constantinople; my vase I had left in the care of my
+brother.  At some miles' distance from the city I overtook a party
+of soldiers.  I joined them, and learning that they were going to
+embark with the rest of the grand seignior's army for Egypt, I
+resolved to accompany them.  'If it be,' thought I, 'the will of
+Mahomet that I should perish, the sooner I meet my fate the
+better.'  The despondency into which I was sunk was attended by so
+great a degree of indolence, that I scarcely would take the
+necessary means to preserve my existence.  During our passage to
+Egypt I sat all day long upon the deck of the vessel, smoking my
+pipe, and I am convinced that if a storm had risen, as I expected,
+I should not have taken my pipe from my mouth, nor should I have
+handled a rope to save myself from destruction.  Such is the effect
+of that species of resignation, or torpor, whichever you please to
+call it, to which my strong belief in fatality had reduced my mind.
+
+"We landed, however, safely, contrary to my melancholy forebodings.
+By a trifling accident, not worth relating, I was detained longer
+than any of my companions in the vessel when we disembarked, and I
+did not arrive at the camp till late at night.  It was moonlight,
+and I could see the whole scene distinctly.  There was a vast
+number of small tents scattered over a desert of white sand; a few
+date-trees were visible at a distance; all was gloomy, and all
+still; no sound was to be heard but that of the camels feeding near
+the tents, and, as I walked on, I met with no human creature.
+
+"My pipe was now out, and I quickened my pace a little towards a
+fire which I saw near one of the tents.  As I proceeded, my eye was
+caught by something sparkling in the sand:  it was a ring.  I
+picked it up and put it on my finger, resolving to give it to the
+public crier the next morning, who might find out its rightful
+owner; but, by ill-luck, I put it on my little finger, for which it
+was much too large, and as I hastened towards the fire to light my
+pipe, I dropped the ring.  I stooped to search for it amongst the
+provender on which a mule was feeding, and the cursed animal gave
+me so violent a kick on the head that I could not help roaring
+aloud.
+
+"My cries awakened those who slept in the tent near which the mule
+was feeding.  Provoked at being disturbed, the soldiers were ready
+enough to think ill of me, and they took it for granted that I was
+a thief, who had stolen the ring I pretended to have just found.
+The ring was taken from me by force, and the next day I was
+bastinadoed for having found it; the officer persisting in the
+belief that stripes would make me confess where I had concealed
+certain other articles of value which had lately been missed in the
+camp.  All this was the consequence of my being in a hurry to light
+my pipe and of my having put the ring on a finger that was too
+little for it, which no one but Murad the Unlucky would have done.
+
+"When I was able to walk again, after my wounds were healed, I went
+into one of the tents distinguished by a red flag, having been told
+that these were coffee-houses.  Whilst I was drinking coffee I
+heard a stranger near me complaining that he had not been able to
+recover a valuable ring he had lost, although he had caused his
+loss to be published for three days by the public crier, offering a
+reward of two hundred sequins to whoever should restore it.  I
+guessed that this was the very ring which I had unfortunately
+found.  I addressed myself to the stranger, and promised to point
+out to him the person who had forced it from me.  The stranger
+recovered his ring, and, being convinced that I had acted honestly,
+he made me a present of two hundred sequins, as some amends for the
+punishment which I had unjustly suffered on his account.
+
+"Now you would imagine that this purse of gold was advantageous to
+me.  Far the contrary; it was the cause of new misfortunes.
+
+"One night, when I thought that the soldiers who were in the same
+tent with me were all fast asleep, I indulged myself in the
+pleasure of counting my treasure.  The next day I was invited by my
+companions to drink sherbet with them.  What they mixed with the
+sherbet which I drank I know not, but I could not resist the
+drowsiness it brought on.  I fell into a profound slumber, and when
+I awoke, I found myself lying under a date-tree, at some distance
+from the camp.
+
+"The first thing I thought of when I came to my recollection was my
+purse of sequins.  The purse I found still safe in my girdle; but
+on opening it, I perceived that it was filled with pebbles, and not
+a single sequin was left.  I had no doubt that I had been robbed by
+the soldiers with whom I had drunk sherbet, and I am certain that
+some of them must have been awake the night I counted my money;
+otherwise, as I had never trusted the secret of my riches to any
+one, they could not have suspected me of possessing any property;
+for ever since I kept company with them I had appeared to be in
+great indigence.
+
+"I applied in vain to the superior officers for redress:  the
+soldiers protested they were innocent; no positive proof appeared
+against them, and I gained nothing by my complaint but ridicule and
+ill-will.  I called myself, in the first transport of my grief, by
+that name which, since my arrival in Egypt, I had avoided to
+pronounce:  I called myself Murad the Unlucky.  The name and the
+story ran through the camp, and I was accosted, afterwards, very
+frequently, by this appellation.  Some, indeed, varied their wit by
+calling me Murad with the purse of pebbles.
+
+"All that I had yet suffered is nothing compared to my succeeding
+misfortunes.
+
+"It was the custom at this time, in the Turkish camp, for the
+soldiers to amuse themselves with firing at a mark.  The superior
+officers remonstrated against this dangerous practice, but
+ineffectually.  Sometimes a party of soldiers would stop firing for
+a few minutes, after a message was brought them from their
+commanders, and then they would begin again, in defiance of all
+orders.  Such was the want of discipline in our army, that this
+disobedience went unpunished.  In the meantime, the frequency of
+the danger made most men totally regardless of it.  I have seen
+tents pierced with bullets, in which parties were quietly seated
+smoking their pipes, whilst those without were preparing to take
+fresh aim at the red flag on the top.
+
+"This apathy proceeded, in some, from unconquerable indolence of
+body; in others, from the intoxication produced by the fumes of
+tobacco and of opium; but in most of my brother Turks it arose from
+the confidence which the belief in predestination inspired.  When a
+bullet killed one of their companions, they only observed, scarcely
+taking the pipes from their mouths, 'Our hour is not yet come:  it
+is not the will of Mahomet that we should fall.'
+
+"I own that this rash security appeared to me, at first,
+surprising, but it soon ceased to strike me with wonder, and it
+even tended to confirm my favourite opinion, that some were born to
+good and some to evil fortune.  I became almost as careless as my
+companions, from following the same course of reasoning.  'It is
+not,' thought I, 'in the power of human prudence to avert the
+stroke of destiny.  I shall perhaps die to-morrow; let me therefore
+enjoy to-day.'
+
+"I now made it my study every day to procure as much amusement as
+possible.  My poverty, as you will imagine, restricted me from
+indulgence and excess, but I soon found means to spend what did not
+actually belong to me.  There were certain Jews who were followers
+of the camp, and who, calculating on the probability of victory for
+our troops, advanced money to the soldiers, for which they engaged
+to pay these usurers exorbitant interest.  The Jew to whom I
+applied traded with me also, upon the belief that my brother
+Saladin, with whose character and circumstances he was acquainted,
+would pay my debts if I should fall.  With the money I raised from
+the Jew I continually bought coffee and opium, of which I grew
+immoderately fond.  In the delirium it created I forgot all my
+misfortunes, all fear of the future.
+
+"One day, when I had raised my spirits by an unusual quantity of
+opium, I was strolling through the camp, sometimes singing,
+sometimes dancing, like a madman, and repeating that I was not now
+Murad the Unlucky.  Whilst these words were on my lips, a friendly
+spectator, who was in possession of his sober senses, caught me by
+the arm, and attempted to drag me from the place where I was
+exposing myself.  'Do you not see,' said he, 'those soldiers, who
+are firing at a mark?  I saw one of them, just now, deliberately
+taking aim at your turban; and observe, he is now reloading his
+piece.'  My ill luck prevailed even at this instant--the only
+instant in my life when I defied its power.  I struggled with my
+adviser, repeating, 'I am not the wretch you take me for; I am not
+Murad the Unlucky.'  He fled from the danger himself; I remained,
+and in a few seconds afterwards a ball reached me, and I fell
+senseless on the sand.
+
+"The ball was cut out of my body by an awkward surgeon, who gave me
+ten times more pain than was necessary.  He was particularly
+hurried at this time, because the army had just received orders to
+march in a few hours, and all was confusion in the camp.  My wound
+was excessively painful, and the fear of being left behind with
+those who were deemed incurable added to my torments.  Perhaps, if
+I had kept myself quiet, I might have escaped some of the evils I
+afterwards endured; but, as I have repeatedly told you, gentlemen,
+it was my ill fortune never to be able to judge what was best to be
+done till the time for prudence was past.
+
+"During the day, when my fever was at the height, and when my
+orders were to keep my bed, contrary to my natural habits of
+indolence, I rose a hundred times, and went out of my tent in the
+very heat of the day, to satisfy my curiosity as to the number of
+the tests which had not been struck, and of the soldiers who had
+not yet marched.  The orders to march were tardily obeyed, and many
+hours elapsed before our encampment was raised.  Had I submitted to
+my surgeon's orders, I might have been in a state to accompany the
+most dilatory of the stragglers; I could have borne, perhaps, the
+slow motion of a litter, on which some of the sick were
+transported; but in the evening, when the surgeon came to dress my
+wounds, he found me in such a situation that it was scarcely
+possible to remove me.
+
+"He desired a party of soldiers, who were left to bring up the
+rear, to call for me the next morning.  They did so; but they
+wanted to put me upon the mule which I recollected, by a white
+streak on its back, to be the cursed animal that had kicked me
+whilst I was looking for the ring.  I could not be prevailed upon
+to go upon this unlucky animal.  I tried to persuade the soldiers
+to carry me, and they took me a little way; but, soon growing weary
+of their burden, they laid me down on the sand, pretending that
+they were going to fill a skin with water at a spring they had
+discovered, and bade me lie still, and wait for their return.
+
+"I waited and waited, longing for the water to moisten my parched
+lips; but no water came--no soldiers returned; and there I lay, for
+several hours, expecting every moment to breathe my last.  I made
+no effort to move, for I was now convinced my hour was come, and
+that it was the will of Mahomet that I should perish in this
+miserable manner, and lie unburied like a dog:  'a death,' thought
+I, 'worthy of Murad the Unlucky.'
+
+"My forebodings were not this time just; a detachment of English
+soldiers passed near the place where I lay:  my groans were heard
+by them, and they humanely came to my assistance.  They carried me
+with them, dressed my wound, and treated me with the utmost
+tenderness.  Christians though they were, I must acknowledge that I
+had reason to love them better than any of the followers of
+Mahomet, my good brother only excepted.
+
+"Under their care I recovered; but scarcely had I regained my
+strength before I fell into new disasters.  It was hot weather, and
+my thirst was excessive.  I went out with a party, in hopes of
+finding a spring of water.  The English soldiers began to dig for a
+well, in a place pointed out to them by one of their men of
+science.  I was not inclined to such hard labour, but preferred
+sauntering on in search of a spring.  I saw at a distance something
+that looked like a pool of water; and I pointed it out to my
+companions.  Their man of science warned me by his interpreter not
+to trust to this deceitful appearance; for that such were common in
+this country, and that, when I came close to the spot, I should
+find no water there.  He added, that it was at a greater distance
+than I imagined; and that I should, in all probability, be lost in
+the desert if I attempted to follow this phantom.
+
+"I was so unfortunate as not to attend to his advice:  I set out in
+pursuit of this accursed delusion, which assuredly was the work of
+evil spirits, who clouded my reason, and allured me into their
+dominion.  I went on, hour after hour, in expectation continually
+of reaching the object of my wishes; but it fled faster than I
+pursued, and I discovered at last that the Englishman, who had
+doubtless gained his information from the people of the country,
+was right; and that the shining appearance which I had taken for
+water was a mere deception.
+
+"I was now exhausted with fatigue:  I looked back in vain after the
+companions I had left; I could see neither men, animals, nor any
+trace of vegetation in the sandy desert.  I had no resource but,
+weary as I was, to measure back my footsteps, which were imprinted
+in the sand.
+
+"I slowly and sorrowfully traced them as my guides in this unknown
+land.  Instead of yielding to my indolent inclinations, I ought,
+however, to have made the best of my way back, before the evening
+breeze sprang up.  I felt the breeze rising, and, unconscious of my
+danger, I rejoiced, and opened my bosom to meet it; but what was my
+dismay when I saw that the wind swept before it all trace of my
+footsteps in the sand.  I knew not which way to proceed; I was
+struck with despair, tore my garments, threw off my turban, and
+cried aloud; but neither human voice nor echo answered me.  The
+silence was dreadful.  I had tasted no food for many hours, and I
+now became sick and faint.  I recollected that I had put a supply
+of opium into the folds of my turban; but, alas! when I took my
+turban up, I found that the opium had fallen out.  I searched for
+it in vain on the sand, where I had thrown the turban.
+
+"I stretched myself out upon the ground, and yielded without
+further struggle to my evil destiny.  What I suffered from thirst,
+hunger, and heat cannot be described.  At last I fell into a sort
+of trance, during which images of various kinds seemed to flit
+before my eyes.  How long I remained in this state I know not:  but
+I remember that I was brought to my senses by a loud shout, which
+came from persons belonging to a caravan returning from Mecca.
+This was a shout of joy for their safe arrival at a certain spring,
+well known to them in this part of the desert.
+
+"The spring was not a hundred yards from the spot where I lay; yet,
+such had been the fate of Murad the Unlucky, that he missed the
+reality, whilst he had been hours in pursuit of the phantom.
+Feeble and spiritless as I was, I sent forth as loud a cry as I
+could, in hopes of obtaining assistance; and I endeavoured to crawl
+to the place from which the voices appeared to come.  The caravan
+rested for a considerable time whilst the slaves filled the skins
+with water, and whilst the camels took in their supply.  I worked
+myself on towards them; yet, notwithstanding my efforts, I was
+persuaded that, according to my usual ill-fortune, I should never
+be able to make them hear my voice.  I saw them mount their camels!
+I took off my turban, unrolled it, and waved it in the air.  My
+signal was seen!  The caravan came towards me!
+
+"I had scarcely strength to speak; a slave gave me some water, and,
+after I had drunk, I explained to them who I was, and how I came
+into this situation.
+
+"Whilst I was speaking, one of the travellers observed the purse
+which hung to my girdle:  it was the same the merchant for whom I
+recovered the ring had given to me; I had carefully preserved it,
+because the initials of my benefactor's name and a passage from the
+Koran were worked upon it.  When he give it to me, he said that
+perhaps we should meet again in some other part of the world, and
+he should recognise me by this token.  The person who now took
+notice of the purse was his brother; and when I related to him how
+I had obtained it, he had the goodness to take me under his
+protection.  He was a merchant, who was now going with the caravan
+to Grand Cairo:  he offered to take me with him, and I willingly
+accepted the proposal, promising to serve him as faithfully as any
+of his slaves.  The caravan proceeded, and I was carried with it.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+
+The merchant, who was become my master, treated me with great
+kindness; but on hearing me relate the whole series of my
+unfortunate adventures, he exacted a promise from me that I would
+do nothing without first consulting him.  'Since you are so
+unlucky, Murad,' said he, 'that you always choose for the worst
+when you choose for yourself, you should trust entirely to the
+judgment of a wiser or a more fortunate friend.'
+
+"I fared well in the service of this merchant, who was a man of a
+mild disposition, and who was so rich that he could afford to be
+generous to all his dependants.  It was my business to see his
+camels loaded and unloaded at proper places, to count his bales of
+merchandise, and to take care that they were not mixed with those
+of his companions.  This I carefully did till the day we arrived at
+Alexandria; when, unluckily, I neglected to count the bales, taking
+it for granted that they were all right, as I had found them so the
+preceding day.  However, when we were to go on board the vessel
+that was to take us to Cairo, I perceived that three bales of
+cotton were missing.
+
+"I ran to inform my master, who, though a good deal provoked at my
+negligence, did not reproach me as I deserved.  The public crier
+was immediately sent round the city, to offer a reward for the
+recovery of the merchandise; and it was restored by one of the
+merchants' slaves with whom we had travelled.  The vessel was now
+under sail; my master and I and the bales of cotton were obliged to
+follow in a boat; and when we were taken on board, the captain
+declared he was so loaded, that he could not tell where to stow the
+bales of cotton.  After much difficulty, he consented to let them
+remain upon deck; and I promised my master to watch them night and
+day.
+
+"We had a prosperous voyage, and were actually in sight of shore,
+which the captain said we could not fail to reach early the next
+morning.  I stayed, as usual, this night upon deck, and solaced
+myself by smoking my pipe.  Ever since I had indulged in this
+practice at the camp at El Arish, I could not exist without opium
+and tobacco.  I suppose that my reason was this night a little
+clouded with the dose I took; but towards midnight I was sobered by
+terror.  I started up from the deck on which I had stretched
+myself; my turban was in flames--the bale of cotton on which I had
+rested was all on fire.  I awakened two sailors, who were fast
+asleep on deck.  The consternation became general, and the
+confusion increased the danger.  The captain and my master were the
+most active, and suffered the most, in extinguishing the flames--my
+master was terribly scorched.
+
+"For my part, I was not suffered to do anything; the captain
+ordered that I should be bound to the mast; and when at last the
+flames were extinguished, the passengers, with one accord, besought
+him to keep me bound hand and foot, lest I should be the cause of
+some new disaster.  All that had happened was, indeed, occasioned
+by my ill-luck.  I had laid my pipe down, when I was falling
+asleep, upon the bale of cotton that was beside me.  The fire from
+my pipe fell out and set the cotton in flames.  Such was the
+mixture of rage and terror with which I had inspired the whole
+crew, that I am sure they would have set me ashore on a desert
+island rather than have had me on board for a week longer.  Even my
+humane master, I could perceive, was secretly impatient to get rid
+of Murad the Unlucky and his evil fortune.
+
+"You may believe that I was heartily glad when we landed, and when
+I was unbound.  My master put a purse containing fifty sequins into
+my hand, and bade me farewell.  'Use this money prudently, Murad,
+if you can,' said he, 'and perhaps your fortune may change.'  Of
+this I had little hopes, but determined to lay out my money as
+prudently as possible.
+
+"As I was walking through the streets of Grand Cairo, considering
+how I should lay out my fifty sequins to the greatest advantage, I
+was stopped by one who called me by my name, and asked me if I
+could pretend to have forgotten his face.  I looked steadily at
+him, and recollected to my sorrow that he was the Jew Rachub, from
+whom I had borrowed certain sums of money at the camp at El Arish.
+What brought him to Grand Cairo, except it was my evil destiny, I
+cannot tell.  He would not quit me; he would take no excuses; he
+said he knew that I had deserted twice, once from the Turkish and
+once from the English army; that I was not entitled to any pay; and
+that he could not imagine it possible that my brother Saladin would
+own me or pay my debts.
+
+"I replied, for I was vexed by the insolence of this Jewish dog,
+that I was not, as he imagined, a beggar:  that I had the means of
+paying him my just debt, but that I hoped he would not extort from
+me all that exorbitant interest which none but a Jew could exact.
+He smiled, and answered that if a Turk loved opium better than
+money this was no fault of his; that he had supplied me with what I
+loved best in the world, and that I ought not to complain when he
+expected I should return the favour.
+
+"I will not weary you, gentlemen, with all the arguments that
+passed between me and Rachub.  At last we compromised matters; he
+would take nothing less than the whole debt:  but he let me have at
+a very cheap rate a chest of second-hand clothes, by which he
+assured me I might make my fortune.  He brought them to Grand
+Cairo, he said, for the purpose of selling them to slave merchants,
+who, at this time of the year, were in want of them to supply their
+slaves; but he was in haste to get home to his wife and family at
+Constantinople, and, therefore, he was willing to make over to a
+friend the profits of this speculation.  I should have distrusted
+Rachub's professions of friendship, and especially of
+disinterestedness, but he took me with him to the khan where his
+goods were, and unlocked the chest of clothes to show them to me.
+They were of the richest and finest materials, and had been but
+little worn.  I could not doubt the evidence of my senses; the
+bargain was concluded, and the Jew sent porters to my inn with the
+chest.
+
+"The next day I repaired to the public market-place; and, when my
+business was known, I had choice of customers before night--my
+chest was empty, and my purse was full.  The profit I made upon the
+sale of these clothes was so considerable, that I could not help
+feeling astonishment at Rachub's having brought himself so readily
+to relinquish them.
+
+"A few days after I had disposed of the contents of my chest, a
+Damascene merchant, who had bought two suits of apparel from me,
+told me, with a very melancholy face, that both the female slaves
+who had put on these clothes were sick.  I could not conceive that
+the clothes were the cause of their sickness; but soon afterwards,
+as I was crossing the market, I was attacked by at least a dozen
+merchants, who made similar complaints.  They insisted upon knowing
+how I came by the garments, and demanded whether I had worn any of
+them myself.  This day I had, for the first time, indulged myself
+with wearing a pair of yellow slippers, the only finery I had
+reserved for myself out of all the tempting goods.  Convinced by my
+wearing these slippers that I could have had no insidious designs,
+since I shared the danger, whatever it might be, the merchants were
+a little pacified; but what was my terror and remorse the next day,
+when one of them came to inform me that plague-boils had broken out
+under the arms of all the slaves who had worn this pestilential
+apparel!  On looking carefully into the chest, we found the word
+'Smyrna' written, and half effaced, upon the lid.  Now, the plague
+had for some time raged at Smyrna; and, as the merchants suspected,
+these clothes had certainly belonged to persons who had died of
+that distemper.  This was the reason why the Jew was willing to
+sell them to me so cheap; and it was for this reason that he would
+not stay at Grand Cairo himself to reap the profits of his
+speculation.  Indeed, if I had paid attention to it at the proper
+time, a slight circumstance might have revealed the truth to me.
+Whilst I was bargaining with the Jew, before he opened the chest,
+he swallowed a large dram of brandy, and stuffed his nostrils with
+sponge dipped in vinegar; he told me, he did to prevent his
+perceiving the smell of musk, which always threw him into
+convulsions.
+
+"The horror I felt when I discovered that I had spread the
+infection of the plague, and that I had probably caught it myself,
+overpowered my senses--a cold dew spread over all my limbs, and I
+fell upon the lid of the fatal chest in a swoon.  It is said that
+fear disposes people to take the infection; however this may be, I
+sickened that evening, and soon was in a raging fever.  It was
+worse for me whenever the delirium left me, and I could reflect
+upon the miseries my ill-fortune had occasioned.  In my first lucid
+interval I looked round, and saw that I had been removed from the
+khan to a wretched hut.  An old woman, who was smoking her pipe in
+the farthest corner of my room, informed me that I had been sent
+out of the town of Grand Cairo by order of the cadi, to whom the
+merchants had made their complaint.  The fatal chest was burnt, and
+the house in which I had lodged razed to the ground.  'And if it
+had not been for me,' continued the old woman, 'you would have been
+dead probably at this instant; but I have made a vow to our great
+Prophet that I would never neglect an opportunity of doing a good
+action; therefore, when you were deserted by all the world, I took
+care of you.  Here, too, is your purse, which I saved from the
+rabble--and, what is more difficult, from the officers of justice.
+I will account to you for every part that I have expended; and
+will, moreover, tell you the reason of my making such an
+extraordinary vow.'
+
+"As I believed that this benevolent old woman took great pleasure
+in talking, I made an inclination of my head to thank her for her
+promised history, and she proceeded; but I must confess I did not
+listen with all the attention her narrative doubtless deserved.
+Even curiosity, the strongest passion of us Turks, was dead within
+me.  I have no recollection of the old woman's story.  It is as
+much as I can do to finish my own.
+
+"The weather became excessively hot; it was affirmed by some of the
+physicians that this heat would prove fatal to their patients; but,
+contrary to the prognostics of the physicians, it stopped the
+progress of the plague.  I recovered, and found my purse much
+lightened by my illness.  I divided the remainder of my money with
+my humane nurse, and sent her out into the city to inquire how
+matters were going on.
+
+"She brought me word that the fury of the plague had much abated,
+but that she had met several funerals, and that she had heard many
+of the merchants cursing the folly of Murad the Unlucky, who, as
+they said, had brought all this calamity upon the inhabitants of
+Cairo.  Even fools, they say, learn by experience.  I took care to
+burn the bed on which I had lain and the clothes I had worn; I
+concealed my real name, which I knew would inspire detestation, and
+gained admittance, with a crowd of other poor wretches, into a
+lazaretto, where I performed quarantine and offered up prayers
+daily for the sick.
+
+"When I thought it was impossible I could spread the infection, I
+took my passage home.  I was eager to get away from Grand Cairo,
+where I knew I was an object of execration.  I had a strange fancy
+haunting my mind; I imagined that all my misfortunes, since I left
+Constantinople, had arisen from my neglect of the talisman upon the
+beautiful china vase.  I dreamed three times, when I was recovering
+from the plague, that a genius appeared to me, and said, in a
+reproachful tone, 'Murad, where is the vase that was entrusted to
+thy care?'
+
+"This dream operated strongly upon my imagination.  As soon as we
+arrived at Constantinople, which we did, to my great surprise,
+without meeting with any untoward accidents, I went in search of my
+brother Saladin to inquire for my vase.  He no longer lived in the
+house in which I left him, and I began to be apprehensive that he
+was dead, but a porter, hearing my inquiries, exclaimed, 'Who is
+there in Constantinople that is ignorant of the dwelling of Saladin
+the Lucky?  Come with me, and I will show it to you.'
+
+"The mansion to which he conducted me looked so magnificent that I
+was almost afraid to enter lest there should be some mistake.  But
+whilst I was hesitating the doors opened, and I heard my brother
+Saladin's voice.  He saw me almost at the same instant that I fixed
+my eyes upon him, and immediately sprang forward to embrace me.  He
+was the same good brother as ever, and I rejoiced in his prosperity
+with all my heart.  'Brother Saladin,' said I, 'can you now doubt
+that some men are born to be fortunate and others to be
+unfortunate?  How often you used to dispute this point with me!'
+
+"'Let us not dispute it now in the public street,' said he,
+smiling; 'but come in and refresh yourself, and we will consider
+the question afterwards at leisure.'
+
+"'No, my dear brother,' said I, drawing back, 'you are too good:
+Murad the Unlucky shall not enter your house, lest he should draw
+down misfortunes upon you and yours.  I come only to ask for my
+vase.'
+
+"'It is safe,' cried he; 'come in, and you shall see it:  but I
+will not give it up till I have you in my house.  I have none of
+these superstitious fears:  pardon me the expression, but I have
+none of these superstitious fears.'
+
+"I yielded, entered his house, and was astonished at all I saw.  My
+brother did not triumph in his prosperity; but, on the contrary,
+seemed intent only upon making me forget my misfortunes:  he
+listened to the account of them with kindness, and obliged me by
+the recital of his history:  which was, I must acknowledge, far
+less wonderful than my own.  He seemed, by his own account, to have
+grown rich in the common course of things; or rather, by his own
+prudence.  I allowed for his prejudices, and, unwilling to dispute
+farther with him, said, 'You must remain of your opinion, brother,
+and I of mine; you are Saladin the Lucky, and I Murad the Unlucky;
+and so we shall remain to the end of our lives.'
+
+"I had not been in his house four days when an accident happened,
+which showed how much I was in the right.  The favourite of the
+sultan, to whom he had formerly sold his china vase, though her
+charms were now somewhat faded by time, still retained her power
+and her taste for magnificence.  She commissioned my brother to
+bespeak for her, at Venice, the most splendid looking-glass that
+money could purchase.  The mirror, after many delays and
+disappointments, at length arrived at my brother's house.  He
+unpacked it, and sent to let the lady know it was in perfect
+safety.  It was late in the evening, and she ordered it should
+remain where it was that night, and that it should be brought to
+the seraglio the next morning.  It stood in a sort of ante-chamber
+to the room in which I slept; and with it were left some packages,
+containing glass chandeliers for an unfinished saloon in my
+brother's house.  Saladin charged all his domestics to be vigilant
+this night, because he had money to a great amount by him, and
+there had been frequent robberies in our neighbourhood.  Hearing
+these orders, I resolved to be in readiness at a moment's warning.
+I laid my scimitar beside me upon a cushion, and left my door half
+open, that I might hear the slightest noise in the ante-chamber or
+the great staircase.  About midnight I was suddenly awakened by a
+noise in the ante-chamber.  I started up, seized my scimitar, and
+the instant I got to the door, saw, by the light of the lamp which
+was burning in the room, a man standing opposite to me, with a
+drawn sword in his hand.  I rushed forward, demanding what he
+wanted, and received no answer; but seeing him aim at me with his
+scimitar, I gave him, as I thought, a deadly blow.  At this instant
+I heard a great crash; and the fragments of the looking-glass,
+which I had shivered, fell at my feet.  At the same moment
+something black brushed by my shoulder:  I pursued it, stumbled
+over the packages of glass, and rolled over them down the stairs.
+
+"My brother came out of his room to inquire the cause of all this
+disturbance; and when he saw the fine mirror broken, and me lying
+amongst the glass chandeliers at the bottom of the stairs, he could
+not forbear exclaiming, 'Well, brother! you are indeed Murad the
+Unlucky.'
+
+"When the first emotion was over, he could not, however, forbear
+laughing at my situation.  With a degree of goodness, which made me
+a thousand times more sorry for the accident, he came downstairs to
+help me up, gave me his hand, and said, 'Forgive me if I was angry
+with you at first.  I am sure you did not mean to do me any injury;
+but tell me how all this has happened?'
+
+"Whilst Saladin was speaking, I heard the same kind of noise which
+had alarmed me in the ante-chamber; but, on looking back, I saw
+only a black pigeon, which flew swiftly by me, unconscious of the
+mischief he had occasioned.  This pigeon I had unluckily brought
+into the house the preceding day; and had been feeding and trying
+to tame it for my young nephews.  I little thought it would be the
+cause of such disasters.  My brother, though he endeavoured to
+conceal his anxiety from me, was much disturbed at the idea of
+meeting the favourite's displeasure, who would certainly be
+grievously disappointed by the loss of her splendid looking-glass.
+I saw that I should inevitably be his ruin if I continued in his
+house; and no persuasions could prevail upon me to prolong my stay.
+My generous brother, seeing me determined to go, said to me, 'A
+factor, whom I have employed for some years to sell merchandise for
+me, died a few days ago.  Will you take his place?  I am rich
+enough to bear any little mistakes you may fall into from ignorance
+of business; and you will have a partner who is able and willing to
+assist you.'
+
+"I was touched to the heart by this kindness, especially at such a
+time as this.  He sent one of his slaves with me to the shop in
+which you now see me, gentlemen.  The slave, by my brother's
+directions, brought with us my china vase, and delivered it safely
+to me, with this message:  'The scarlet dye that was found in this
+vase, and in its fellow, was the first cause of Saladin's making
+the fortune he now enjoys:  he therefore does no more than justice
+in sharing that fortune with his brother Murad.'
+
+"I was now placed in as advantageous a situation as possible; but
+my mind was ill at ease when I reflected that the broken mirror
+might be my brother's ruin.  The lady by whom it had been bespoken
+was, I well knew, of a violent temper; and this disappointment was
+sufficient to provoke her to vengeance.  My brother sent me word
+this morning, however, that though her displeasure was excessive,
+it was in my power to prevent any ill consequences that might
+ensue.  'In my power!' I exclaimed; 'then, indeed, I am happy!
+Tell my brother there is nothing I will not do to show him my
+gratitude and to save him from the consequences of my folly.'
+
+"The slave who was sent by my brother seemed unwilling to name what
+was required of me, saying that his master was afraid I should not
+like to grant the request.  I urged him to speak freely, and he
+then told me the favourite declared nothing would make her amends
+for the loss of the mirror but the fellow-vase to that which she
+had bought from Saladin.  It was impossible for me to hesitate;
+gratitude for my brother's generous kindness overcame my
+superstitious obstinacy, and I sent him word I would carry the vase
+to him myself.
+
+"I took it down this evening from the shelf on which it stood; it
+was covered with dust, and I washed it, but, unluckily, in
+endeavouring to clean the inside from the remains of the scarlet
+powder, I poured hot water into it, and immediately I heard a
+simmering noise, and my vase, in a few instants, burst asunder with
+a loud explosion.  These fragments, alas! are all that remain.  The
+measure of my misfortunes is now completed!  Can you wonder,
+gentlemen, that I bewail my evil destiny?  Am I not justly called
+Murad the Unlucky?  Here end all my hopes in this world!  Better
+would it have been if I had died long ago!  Better that I had never
+been born!  Nothing I ever have done or attempted has prospered.
+Murad the Unlucky is my name, and ill-fate has marked me for her
+own."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+
+The lamentations of Murad were interrupted by the entrance of
+Saladin.  Having waited in vain for some hours, he now came to see
+if any disaster had happened to his brother Murad.  He was
+surprised at the sight of the two pretended merchants, and could
+not refrain from exclamations on beholding the broken vase.
+However, with his usual equanimity and good-nature, he began to
+console Murad; and, taking up the fragments, examined them
+carefully, one by one joined them together again, found that none
+of the edges of the china were damaged, and declared he could have
+it mended so as to look as well as ever.
+
+Murad recovered his spirits upon this.  "Brother," said he, "I
+comfort myself for being Murad the Unlucky when I reflect that you
+are Saladin the Lucky.  See, gentlemen," continued he, turning to
+the pretended merchants, "scarcely has this most fortunate of men
+been five minutes in company before he gives a happy turn to
+affairs.  His presence inspires joy:  I observe your countenances,
+which had been saddened by my dismal history, have brightened up
+since he has made his appearance.  Brother, I wish you would make
+these gentlemen some amends for the time they have wasted in
+listening to my catalogue of misfortunes by relating your history,
+which, I am sure, they will find rather more exhilarating."
+
+Saladin consented, on condition that the strangers would accompany
+him home and partake of a social banquet.  They at first repeated
+the former excuse of their being obliged to return to their inn;
+but at length the sultan's curiosity prevailed, and he and his
+vizier went home with Saladin the Lucky, who, after supper, related
+his history in the following manner:-
+
+"My being called Saladin the Lucky first inspired me with
+confidence in myself; though I own that I cannot remember any
+extraordinary instances of good luck in my childhood.  An old nurse
+of my mother's, indeed, repeated to me twenty times a day that
+nothing I undertook could fail to succeed, because I was Saladin
+the Lucky.  I became presumptuous and rash; and my nurse's
+prognostics might have effectually prevented their accomplishment
+had I not, when I was about fifteen, been roused to reflection
+during a long confinement, which was the consequence of my youthful
+conceit and imprudence.
+
+"At this time there was at the Porte a Frenchman, an ingenious
+engineer, who was employed and favoured by the sultan, to the great
+astonishment of many of my prejudiced countrymen.  On the grand
+seignior's birthday he exhibited some extraordinarily fine
+fireworks; and I, with numbers of the inhabitants of
+Constantinople, crowded to see them.  I happened to stand near the
+place where the Frenchman was stationed; the crowd pressed upon
+him, and I amongst the rest; he begged we would, for our own sakes,
+keep at a greater distance, and warned us that we might be much
+hurt by the combustibles which he was using.  I, relying upon my
+mood fortune, disregarded all these cautions; and the consequence
+was that, as I touched some of the materials prepared for the
+fireworks, they exploded, dashed me upon the ground with great
+violence, and I was terribly burnt.
+
+"This accident, gentlemen, I consider as one of the most fortunate
+circumstances of my life; for it checked and corrected the
+presumption of my temper.  During the time I was confined to my bed
+the French gentleman came frequently to see me.  He was a very
+sensible man; and the conversations he had with me enlarged my mind
+and cured me of many foolish prejudices, especially of that which I
+had been taught to entertain concerning the predominance of what is
+called luck or fortune in human affairs.  'Though you are called
+Saladin the Lucky,' said he, 'you find that your neglect of
+prudence has nearly brought you to the grave even in the bloom of
+youth.  Take my advice, and henceforward trust more to prudence
+than to fortune.  Let the multitude, if they will, call you Saladin
+the Lucky; but call yourself, and make yourself, Saladin the
+Prudent.'
+
+"These words left an indelible impression on my mind, and gave a
+new turn to my thoughts and character.  My brother, Murad, his
+doubtless told you our difference of opinion on the subject of
+predestination produced between us frequent arguments; but we could
+never convince one another, and we each have acted, through life,
+in consequence of our different beliefs.  To this I attribute my
+success and his misfortunes.
+
+"The first rise of my fortune, as you have probably heard from
+Murad, was owing to the scarlet dye, which I brought to perfection
+with infinite difficulty.  The powder, it is true, was accidentally
+found by me in our china vases; but there it might have remained to
+this instant, useless, if I had not taken the pains to make it
+useful.  I grant that we can only partially foresee and command
+events; yet on the use we make of our own powers, I think, depends
+our destiny.  But, gentlemen, you would rather hear my adventures,
+perhaps, than my reflections; and I am truly concerned, for your
+sakes, that I have no wonderful events to relate.  I am sorry I
+cannot tell you of my having been lost in a sandy desert.  I have
+never had the plague, nor even been shipwrecked:  I have been all
+my life an inhabitant of Constantinople, and have passed my time in
+a very quiet and uniform manner.
+
+"The money I received from the sultan's favourite for my china
+vase, as my brother may have told you, enabled me to trade on a
+more extensive scale.  I went on steadily with my business, and
+made it my whole study to please my employers by all fair and
+honourable means.  This industry and civility succeeded beyond my
+expectations:  in a few years I was rich for a man in my way of
+business.
+
+"I will not proceed to trouble you with the journal of a petty
+merchant's life; I pass on to the incident which made a
+considerable change in my affairs.
+
+"A terrible fire broke out near the walls of the grand seignior's
+seraglio.  As you are strangers, gentlemen, you may not have heard
+of this event, though it produced so great a sensation in
+Constantinople.  The vizier's superb palace was utterly consumed,
+and the melted lead poured down from the roof of the mosque of St.
+Sophia.  Various were the opinions formed by my neighbours
+respecting the cause of the conflagration.  Some supposed it to be
+a punishment for the sultan's having neglected one Friday to appear
+it the mosque of St. Sophia; others considered it as a warning sent
+by Mahomet to dissuade the Porte from persisting in a war in which
+we were just engaged.  The generality, however, of the coffee-house
+politicians contented themselves with observing that it was the
+will of Mahomet that the palace should be consumed.  Satisfied by
+this supposition, they took no precaution to prevent similar
+accidents in their own houses.  Never were fires so common in the
+city as at this period; scarcely a night passed without our being
+wakened by the cry of fire.
+
+"These frequent fires were rendered still more dreadful by
+villains, who were continually on the watch to increase the
+confusion by which they profited, and to pillage the houses of the
+sufferers.  It was discovered that these incendiaries frequently
+skulked, towards evening, in the neighbourhood of the bezestein,
+where the richest merchants store their goods.  Some of these
+wretches were detected in throwing coundaks, or matches, into the
+windows; and if these combustibles remained a sufficient time, they
+could not fail to set the house on fire.
+
+"Notwithstanding all these circumstances, many even of those who
+had property to preserve continued to repeat, 'It is the will of
+Mahomet,' and consequently to neglect all means of preservation.
+I, on the contrary, recollecting the lesson I had learned from the
+sensible foreigner, neither suffered my spirits to sink with
+superstitious fears of ill-luck, nor did I trust presumptuously to
+my good fortune.  I took every possible means to secure myself.  I
+never went to bed without having seen that all the lights and fires
+in the house were extinguished, and that I had a supply of water in
+the cistern.  I had likewise learned from my Frenchman that wet
+mortar was the most effectual thing for stopping the progress of
+flames.  I, therefore, had a quantity of mortar made up in one of
+my outhouses, which I could use at a moment's warning.  These
+precautions were all useful to me.  My own house, indeed, was never
+actually on fire; but the houses of my next-door neighbours were no
+less than five times in flames in the course of one winter.  By my
+exertions, or rather by my precautions, they suffered but little
+damage, and all my neighbours looked upon me as their deliverer and
+friend; they loaded me with presents, and offered more, indeed,
+than I would accept.  All repeated that I was Saladin the Lucky.
+This compliment I disclaimed, feeling more ambitious of being
+called Saladin the Prudent.  It is thus that what we call modesty
+is often only a more refined species of pride.  But to proceed with
+my story.
+
+"One night I had been later than usual at supper at a friend's
+house; none but the watch were in the streets, and even they, I
+believe, were asleep.
+
+"As I passed one of the conduits which convey water to the city, I
+heard a trickling noise; and, upon examination, I found that the
+cook of the water-spout was half turned, so that the water was
+running out.  I turned it back to its proper place, thought it had
+been left unturned by accident, and walked on; but I had not
+proceeded far before I came to another spout, and another, which
+were in the same condition.  I was convinced that this could not be
+the effect merely of accident, and suspected that some ill-
+intentioned persons designed to let out and waste the water of the
+city, that there might be none to extinguish any fire that should
+break out in the course of the night.
+
+"I stood still for a few moments, to consider how it would be most
+prudent to act.  It would be impossible for me to run to all parts
+of the city, that I might stop the pipes that were running to
+waste.  I first thought of wakening the watch and the firemen, who
+were most of them slumbering at their stations; but I reflected
+that they were perhaps not to be trusted, and that they were in a
+confederacy with the incendiaries, otherwise they would certainly
+before this hour have observed and stopped the running of the
+sewers in their neighbourhood.  I determined to waken a rich
+merchant, called Damat Zade, who lived near me, and who had a
+number of slaves whom he could send to different parts of the city,
+to prevent mischief and give notice to the inhabitants of their
+danger.
+
+"He was a very sensible, active man, and one that could easily be
+wakened; he was not like some Turks, an hour in recovering their
+lethargic senses.  He was quick in decision and action; and his
+slaves resembled their master.  He despatched a messenger
+immediately to the grand vizier, that the sultan's safety might be
+secured, and sent others to the magistrates in each quarter of
+Constantinople.  The large drums in the janissary aga's tower beat
+to rouse the inhabitants; and scarcely had they been heard to beat
+half an hour before the fire broke out in the lower apartments of
+Damat Zade's house, owing to a coundak which had been left behind
+one of the doors.
+
+"The wretches who had prepared the mischief came to enjoy it, and
+to pillage; but they were disappointed.  Astonished to find
+themselves taken into custody, they could not comprehend how their
+designs had been frustrated.  By timely exertions, the fire in my
+friend's house was extinguished; and though fires broke out during
+the night in many parts of the city, but little damage was
+sustained, because there was time for precautions, and, by the
+stopping of the spouts, sufficient water was preserved.  People
+were awakened and warned of the danger, and they consequently
+escaped unhurt.
+
+"The next day, as soon as I made my appearance at the bezestein,
+the merchants crowded round, called me their benefactor, and the
+preserver of their lives and fortunes.  Damat Zade, the merchant
+whom I had awakened the preceding night, presented to me a heavy
+purse of gold, and put upon my finger a diamond ring of
+considerable value; each of the merchants followed his example in
+making me rich presents; the magistrates also sent me tokens of
+their approbation; and the grand vizier sent me a diamond of the
+first water, with a line written by his own hand, 'To the man who
+has saved Constantinople.'  Excuse me, gentlemen, for the vanity I
+seem to show in mentioning these circumstances.  You desired to
+hear my history, and I cannot, therefore, omit the principal
+circumstance of my life.  In the course of four-and-twenty hours I
+found myself raised, by the munificent gratitude of the inhabitants
+of this city, to a state of affluence far beyond what I had ever
+dreamed of attaining.
+
+"I now took a house suited to my circumstances, and bought a few
+slaves.  As I was carrying my slaves home, I was met by a Jew, who
+stopped me, saying, in his language, 'My lord, I see, has been
+purchasing slaves; I could clothe them cheaply.'  There was
+something mysterious in the manner of this Jew, and I did not like
+his countenance; but I considered that I ought not to be governed
+by caprice in my dealings, and that, if this man could really
+clothe my slaves more cheaply than another, I ought not to neglect
+his offer merely because I took a dislike to the cut of his beard,
+the turn of his eye, or the tone of his voice.  I, therefore, bade
+the Jew follow me home, saying that I would consider of his
+proposal.
+
+"When we came to talk over the matter, I was surprised to find him
+so reasonable in his demands.  On one point, indeed, he appeared
+unwilling to comply.  I required not only to see the clothes I was
+offered, but also to know how they came into his possession.  On
+this subject he equivocated; I, therefore, suspected there must be
+something wrong.  I reflected what it could be, and judged that the
+goods had been stolen, or that they had been the apparel of persons
+who had died of some contagious distemper.  The Jew showed me a
+chest, from which he said I might choose whatever suited me best.
+I observed that, as he was going to unlock the chest, he stuffed
+his nose with some aromatic herbs.  He told me that he did so to
+prevent his smelling the musk with which the chest was perfumed;
+musk, he said, had an extraordinary effect upon his nerves.  I
+begged to have some of the herbs which he used himself, declaring
+that musk was likewise offensive to me.
+
+"The Jew, either struck by his own conscience or observing my
+suspicions, turned as pale as death.  He pretended he had not the
+right key, and could not unlock the chest; said he must go in
+search of it, and that he would call on me again.
+
+"After he had left me, I examined some writing upon the lid of the
+chest that had been nearly effaced.  I made out the word 'Smyrna,'
+and this was sufficient to confirm all my suspicions.  The Jew
+returned no more; he sent some porters to carry away the chest, and
+I heard nothing of him for some time, till one day, when I was at
+the house of Damat Zade, I saw a glimpse of the Jew passing hastily
+through one of the courts, as if he wished to avoid me.  'My
+friend,' said I to Damat Zade, 'do not attribute my question to
+impertinent curiosity, or to a desire to intermeddle with your
+affairs, if I venture to ask the nature of your business with the
+Jew who has just now crossed your court?'
+
+"'He has engaged to supply me with clothing for my slaves,' replied
+my friend, 'cheaper than I can purchase it elsewhere.  I have a
+design to surprise my daughter Fatima, on her birthday, with an
+entertainment in the pavilion in the garden, and all her female
+slaves shall appear in new dresses on the occasion.'
+
+"I interrupted my friend, to tell him what I suspected relative to
+this Jew and his chest of clothes.  It is certain that the
+infection of the plague can be communicated by clothes, not only
+after months, but after years have elapsed.  The merchant resolved
+to have nothing more to do with this wretch, who could thus hazard
+the lives of thousands of his follow-creatures for a few pieces of
+gold.  We sent notice of the circumstance to the cadi, but the cadi
+was slow in his operations; and before he could take the Jew into
+custody the cunning fellow had effected his escape.  When his house
+was searched, he and his chest had disappeared.  We discovered that
+he sailed for Egypt, and rejoiced that we had driven him from
+Constantinople.
+
+"My friend, Damat Zade, expressed the warmest gratitude to me.
+'You formerly saved my fortune; you have now saved my life, and a
+life yet dearer than my own:  that of my daughter Fatima.'
+
+"At the sound of that name I could not, I believe, avoid showing
+some emotion.  I had accidentally seen this lady, and I had been
+captivated by her beauty and by the sweetness of her countenance;
+but as I knew she was destined to be the wife of another, I
+suppressed my feeling, and determined to banish the recollection of
+the fair Fatima for ever from my imagination.  Her father, however,
+at this instant threw into my way a temptation which it required
+all my fortitude to resist.  'Saladin,' continued he, 'it is but
+just that you, who have saved our lives, should share our
+festivity.  Come here on the birthday of my Fatima; I will place
+you in a balcony which overlooks the garden, and you shall see the
+whole spectacle.  We shall have a feast of tulips, in imitation of
+that which, as you know, is held in the grand seignior's gardens.
+I assure you the sight will be worth seeing; and besides, you will
+have a chance of beholding my Fatima, for a moment, without her
+veil.'
+
+"'That,' interrupted I, 'is the thing I most wish to avoid.  I dare
+not indulge myself in a pleasure which might cost me the happiness
+of my life.  I will conceal nothing from you, who treat me with so
+much confidence.  I have already beheld the charming countenance of
+your Fatima, but I know that she is destined to be the wife of a
+happier man.'
+
+"Damat Zade seemed much pleased by the frankness with which I
+explained myself; but he would not give up the idea of my sitting
+with him in the balcony on the day of the feast of tulips; and I,
+on my part, could not consent to expose myself to another view of
+the charming Fatima.  My friend used every argument, or rather
+every sort of persuasion, he could imagine to prevail upon me; he
+then tried to laugh me out of my resolution; and, when all failed,
+he said, in a voice of anger, 'Go, then, Saladin:  I am sure you
+are deceiving me; you have a passion for some other woman, and you
+would conceal it from me, and persuade me you refuse the favour I
+offer you from prudence, when, in fact, it is from indifference and
+contempt.  Why could you not speak the truth of your heart to me
+with that frankness with which one friend should treat another?'
+
+"Astonished at this unexpected charge, and at the anger which
+flashed from the eyes of Damat Zade, who till this moment had
+always appeared to me a man of a mild and reasonable temper, I was
+for an instant tempted to fly into a passion and leave him; but
+friends, once lost, are not easily regained.  This consideration
+had power sufficient to make me command my temper.  'My friend,'
+replied I, 'we will talk over this affair to-morrow.  You are now
+angry, and cannot do me justice, but to-morrow you will be cool;
+you will then be convinced that I have not deceived you, and that I
+have no design but to secure my own happiness, by the most prudent
+means in my power, by avoiding the sight of the dangerous Fatima.
+I have no passion for any other woman.'
+
+"'Then,' said my friend, embracing me, and quitting the tone of
+anger which he had assumed only to try my resolution to the utmost,
+'Then, Saladin, Fatima is yours.'
+
+"I scarcely dared to believe my senses; I could not express my joy!
+'Yes, my friend,' continued the merchant, 'I have tried your
+prudence to the utmost, it has been victorious, and I resign my
+Fatima to you, certain that you will make her happy.  It is true I
+had a greater alliance in view for her--the Pacha of Maksoud has
+demanded her from me; but I have found, upon private inquiry, he is
+addicted to the intemperate use of opium, and my daughter shall
+never be the wife of one who is a violent madman one-half the day
+and a melancholy idiot during the remainder.  I have nothing to
+apprehend from the pacha's resentment, because I have powerful
+friends with the grand vizier, who will oblige him to listen to
+reason, and to submit quietly to a disappointment he so justly
+merits.  And now, Saladin, have you any objection to seeing the
+feast of tulips?'
+
+"I replied only by falling at the merchant's feet, and embracing
+his knees.  The feast of tulips came and on that day I was married
+to the charming Fatima!  The charming Fatima I continue still to
+think her, though she has now been my wife some years.  She is the
+joy and pride of my heart; and, from our mutual affection, I have
+experienced more felicity than from all the other circumstances of
+my life, which are called so fortunate.  Her father gave me the
+house in which I now live, and joined his possessions to ours; so
+that I have more wealth even than I desire.  My riches, however,
+give me continually the means of relieving the wants of others; and
+therefore I cannot affect to despise them.  I must persuade my
+brother Murad to share them with me, and to forget his misfortunes:
+I shall then think myself completely happy.  As to the sultana's
+looking-glass and your broken vase, my dear brother," continued
+Saladin, "we must think of some means--"
+
+"Think no more of the sultana's looking-glass or of the broken
+vase," exclaimed the sultan, throwing aside his merchant's habit,
+and showing beneath it his own imperial vest.  "Saladin, I rejoice
+to have heard, from your own lips, the history of your life.  I
+acknowledge, vizier, I have been in the wrong in our argument,"
+continued the sultan, turning to his vizier.  "I acknowledge that
+the histories of Saladin the Lucky and Murad the Unlucky favour
+your opinion, that prudence has more influence than chance in human
+affairs.  The success and happiness of Saladin seem to me to have
+arisen from his prudence:  by that prudence Constantinople has been
+saved from flames and from the plague.  Had Murad possessed his
+brother's discretion, he would not have been on the point of losing
+his head, for selling rolls which he did not bake:  he would not
+have been kicked by a mule or bastinadoed for finding a ring:  he
+would not have been robbed by one party of soldiers, or shot by
+another:  he would not have been lost in a desert, or cheated by a
+Jew:  he would not have set a ship on fire; nor would he have
+caught the plague, and spread it through Grand Cairo:  he would not
+have run my sultana's looking-glass through the body, instead of a
+robber:  he would not have believed that the fate of his life
+depended on certain verses on a china vase:  nor would he, at last,
+have broken this precious talisman, by washing it with hot water.
+Henceforward, let Murad the Unlucky be named Murad the Imprudent:
+let Saladin preserve the surname he merits, and be henceforth
+called Saladin the Prudent."
+
+So spake the sultan, who, unlike the generality of monarchs, could
+bear to find himself in the wrong, and could discover his vizier to
+be in the right without cutting off his head.  History farther
+informs us that the sultan offered to make Saladin a pacha, and to
+commit to him the government of a province; but, Saladin the
+Prudent declined this honour, saying he had no ambition, was
+perfectly happy in his present situation, and that, when this was
+the case, it would be folly to change, because no one can be more
+than happy.  What farther adventures befell Murad the Imprudent are
+not recorded; it is known only that he became a daily visitor to
+the Teriaky, and that he died a martyr to the immoderate use of
+opium.
+
+
+
+
+THE LIMERICK GLOVES
+
+
+
+
+It was Sunday morning, and a fine day in autumn; the bells of
+Hereford Cathedral rang, and all the world, smartly dressed, were
+flocking to church.
+
+"Mrs. Hill!  Mrs. Hill!--Phoebe! Phoebe!  There's the cathedral
+bell, I say, and neither of you ready for church, and I a verger,"
+cried Mr. Hill, the tanner, as he stood at the bottom of his own
+staircase.  "I'm ready, papa," replied Phoebe; and down she came,
+looking so clean, so fresh, and so gay, that her stern father's
+brows unbent, and he could only say to her, as she was drawing on a
+new pair of gloves, "Child, you ought to have had those gloves on
+before this time of day."
+
+"Before this time of day!" cried Mrs. Hill, who was now coming
+downstairs completely equipped--"before this time of day!  She
+should know better, I say, than to put on those gloves at all:
+more especially when going to the cathedral."
+
+"The gloves are very good gloves, as far as I see," replied Mr.
+Hill.  "But no matter now.  It is more fitting that we should be in
+proper time in our pew, to set an example, as becomes us, than to
+stand here talking of gloves and nonsense."
+
+He offered his wife and daughter each an arm, and set out for the
+cathedral; but Phoebe was too busy in drawing on her new gloves,
+and her mother was too angry at the sight of them, to accept of Mr.
+Hill's courtesy.  "What I say is always nonsense, I know, Mr.
+Hill," resumed the matron:  "but I can see as far into a millstone
+as other folks.  Was it not I that first gave you a hint of what
+became of the great dog that we lost out of our tan-yard last
+winter?  And was it not I who first took notice to you, Mr. Hill,
+verger as you are, of the hole under the foundation of the
+cathedral?  Was it not, I ask you, Mr. Hill?"
+
+"But, my dear Mrs. Hill, what has all this to do with Phoebe's
+gloves?"
+
+"Are you blind, Mr. Hill?  Don't you see that they are Limerick
+gloves?"
+
+"What of that?" said Mr. Hill, still preserving his composure, as
+it was his custom to do as long as he could, when he saw his wife
+was ruffled.
+
+"What of that, Mr. Hill! why, don't you know that Limerick is in
+Ireland, Mr. Hill?"
+
+"With all my heart, my dear."
+
+"Yes, and with all your heart, I suppose, Mr. Hill, you would see
+our cathedral blown up, some fair day or other, and your own
+daughter married to the person that did it; and you a verger, Mr.
+Hill."
+
+"God forbid!" cried Mr, Hill; and he stopped short and settled his
+wig.  Presently recovering himself, he added, "But, Mrs. Hill, the
+cathedral is not yet blown up; and our Phoebe is not yet married."
+
+"No; but what of that, Mr. Hill?  Forewarned is forearmed, as I
+told you before your dog was gone; but you would not believe me,
+and you see how it turned out in that case; and so it will in this
+case, you'll see, Mr. Hill."
+
+"But you puzzle and frighten me out of my wits, Mrs. Hill," said
+the verger, again settling his wig.  "IN THAT CASE AND IN THIS
+CASE!  I can't understand a syllable of what you've been saying to
+me this half-hour.  In plain English, what is there the matter
+about Phoebe's gloves?"
+
+"In plain English, then, Mr. Hill, since you can understand nothing
+else, please to ask your daughter Phoebe who gave her those gloves.
+Phoebe, who gave you those gloves?"
+
+"I wish they were burnt," said the husband, whose patience could
+endure no longer.  "Who gave you those cursed gloves, Phoebe?"
+
+"Papa," answered Phoebe, in a low voice, "they were a present from
+Mr. Brian O'Neill."
+
+"The Irish glover!" cried Mr. Hill, with a look of terror.
+
+"Yes," resumed the mother; "very true, Mr. Hill, I assure you.
+Now, you see, I had my reasons."
+
+"Take off the gloves directly:  I order you, Phoebe," said her
+father, in his most peremptory tone.  "I took a mortal dislike to
+that Mr. Brian O'Neill the first time I ever saw him.  He's an
+Irishman, and that's enough, and too much for me.  Off with the
+gloves, Phoebe!  When I order a thing, it must be done."
+
+Phoebe seemed to find some difficulty in getting off the gloves,
+and gently urged that she could not well go into the cathedral
+without them.  This objection was immediately removed by her
+mother's pulling from her pocket a pair of mittens, which had once
+been brown, and once been whole, but which were now rent in sundry
+places; and which, having been long stretched by one who was twice
+the size of Phoebe, now hung in huge wrinkles upon her well-turned
+arms.
+
+"But, papa," said Phoebe, "why should we take a dislike to him
+because he is an Irishman?  Cannot an Irishman be a good man?"
+
+The verger made no answer to this question, but a few seconds after
+it was put to him observed that the cathedral bell had just done
+ringing; and, as they were now got to the church door, Mrs. Hill,
+with a significant look at Phoebe, remarked that it was no proper
+time to talk or think of good men, or bad men, or Irishmen, or any
+men, especially for a verger's daughter.
+
+We pass over in silence the many conjectures that were made by
+several of the congregation concerning the reason why Miss Phoebe
+Hill should appear in such a shameful shabby pair of gloves on a
+Sunday.  After service was ended, the verger went, with great
+mystery, to examine the hole under the foundation of the cathedral;
+and Mrs. Hill repaired, with the grocer's and the stationer's
+ladies, to take a walk in the Close, where she boasted to all her
+female acquaintance, whom she called her friends, of her maternal
+discretion in prevailing upon Mr. Hill to forbid her daughter
+Phoebe to wear the Limerick gloves.
+
+In the meantime, Phoebe walked pensively homewards, endeavouring to
+discover why her father should take a mortal dislike to a man at
+first sight, merely because he was an Irishman:  and why her mother
+had talked so much of the great dog which had been lost last year
+out of the tan-yard; and of the hole under the foundation of the
+cathedral!  "What has all this to do with my Limerick gloves?"
+thought she.  The more she thought, the less connection she could
+perceive between these things:  for as she had not taken a dislike
+to Mr. Brian O'Neill at first sight, because he was an Irishman,
+she could not think it quite reasonable to suspect him of making
+away with her father's dog, nor yet of a design to blow up Hereford
+Cathedral.  As she was pondering upon these matters, she came
+within sight of the ruins of a poor woman's house, which a few
+months before this time had been burnt down.  She recollected that
+her first acquaintance with her lover began at the time of this
+fire; and she thought that the courage and humanity he showed, in
+exerting himself to save this unfortunate woman and her children,
+justified her notion of the possibility that an Irishman might be a
+good man.
+
+The name of the poor woman whose house had been burnt down was
+Smith:  she was a widow, and she now lived at the extremity of a
+narrow lane in a wretched habitation.  Why Phoebe thought of her
+with more concern than usual at this instant we need not examine,
+but she did; and, reproaching herself for having neglected it for
+some weeks past, she resolved to go directly to see the widow
+Smith, and to give her a crown which she had long had in her
+pocket, with which she had intended to have bought play tickets.
+
+It happened that the first person she saw in the poor widow's
+kitchen was the identical Mr. O'Neill.  "I did not expect to see
+anybody here but you, Mrs. Smith," said Phoebe, blushing.
+
+"So much the greater the pleasure of the meeting; to me, I mean,
+Miss Hill," said O'Neill, rising, and putting down a little boy,
+with whom he had been playing.  Phoebe went on talking to the poor
+woman; and, after slipping the crown into her hand, said she would
+call again.  O'Neill, surprised at the change in her manner,
+followed her when she left the house, and said, "It would be a
+great misfortune to me to have done anything to offend Miss Hill,
+especially if I could not conceive how or what it was, which is my
+case at this present speaking."  And as the spruce glover spoke, he
+fixed his eyes upon Phoebe's ragged gloves.  She drew them up in
+vain; and then said, with her natural simplicity and gentleness,
+"You have not done anything to offend me, Mr. O'Neill; but you are
+some way or other displeasing to my father and mother, and they
+have forbid me to wear the Limerick gloves."
+
+"And sure Miss Hill would not be after changing her opinion of her
+humble servant for no reason in life but because her father and
+mother, who have taken a prejudice against him, are a little
+contrary."
+
+"No," replied Phoebe; "I should not change my opinion without any
+reason; but I have not yet had time to fix my opinion of you, Mr.
+O'Neill."
+
+"To let you know a piece of my mind, then, my dear Miss Hill,"
+resumed he, "the more contrary they are, the more pride and joy it
+would give me to win and wear you, in spite of 'em all; and if
+without a farthing in your pocket, so much the more I should
+rejoice in the opportunity of proving to your dear self, and all
+else whom it may consarn, that Brian O'Neill is no fortune-hunter,
+and scorns them that are so narrow-minded as to think that no other
+kind of cattle but them there fortune-hunters can come out of all
+Ireland.  So, my dear Phoebe, now we understand one another, I hope
+you will not be paining my eyes any longer with the sight of these
+odious brown bags, which are not fit to be worn by any Christian
+arms, to say nothing of Miss Hill's, which are the handsomest,
+without any compliment, that ever I saw, and, to my mind, would
+become a pair of Limerick gloves beyond anything:  and I expect
+she'll show her generosity and proper spirit by putting them on
+immediately."
+
+"You expect, sir!" repeated Miss Hill, with a look of more
+indignation than her gentle countenance had ever before been seen
+to assume.  "Expect!"  "If he had said hope," thought she, "it
+would have been another thing:  but expect! what right has he to
+expect?"
+
+Now Miss Hill, unfortunately, was not sufficiently acquainted with
+the Irish idiom to know that to expect, in Ireland, is the same
+thing as to hope in England; and, when her Irish admirer said "I
+expect," he meant only, in plain English, "I hope."  But thus it is
+that a poor Irishman, often, for want of understanding the niceties
+of the English language, says the rudest when he means to say the
+civillest things imaginable.
+
+Miss Hill's feelings were so much hurt by this unlucky "I expect"
+that the whole of his speech, which had before made some favourable
+impression upon her, now lost its effect:  and she replied with
+proper spirit, as she thought, "You expect a great deal too much,
+Mr. O'Neill; and more than ever I gave you reason to do.  It would
+be neither pleasure nor pride to me to be won and worn, as you were
+pleased to say, in spite of them all; and to be thrown, without a
+farthing in my pocket, upon the protection of one who expects so
+much at first setting out.--So I assure you, sir, whatever you may
+expect, I shall not put on the Limerick gloves."
+
+Mr. O'Neill was not without his share of pride and proper spirit;
+nay, he had, it must be confessed, in common with some others of
+his countrymen, an improper share of pride and spirit.  Fired by
+the lady's coldness, he poured forth a volley of reproaches; and
+ended by wishing, as he said, a good morning, for ever and ever, to
+one who could change her opinion, point blank, like the
+weathercock.  "I am, miss, your most obedient; and I expect you'll
+never think no more of poor Brian O'Neill and the Limerick gloves."
+
+If he had not been in too great a passion to observe anything, poor
+Brian O'Neill would have found out that Phoebe was not a
+weathercock:  but he left her abruptly, and hurried away, imagining
+all the while that it was Phoebe, and not himself, who was in a
+rage.  Thus, to the horseman who is galloping at full speed, the
+hedges, trees, and houses seem rapidly to recede, whilst, in
+reality, they never move from their places.  It is he that flies
+from them, and not they from him.
+
+On Monday morning Miss Jenny Brown, the perfumer's daughter, came
+to pay Phoebe a morning visit, with face of busy joy.
+
+"So, my dear!" said she:  "fine doings in Hereford!  But what makes
+you look so downcast?  To be sure you are invited, as well as the
+rest of us."
+
+"Invited where?" cried Mrs. Hill, who was present, and who could
+never endure to hear of an invitation in which she was not
+included.  "Invited where, pray, Miss Jenny?"
+
+"La! have not you heard?  Why, we all took it for granted that you
+and Miss Phoebe would have been the first and foremost to have been
+asked to Mr. O'Neill's ball."
+
+"Ball!" cried Mrs. Hill; and luckily saved Phoebe, who was in some
+agitation, the trouble of speaking.  "Why, this is a mighty sudden
+thing:  I never heard a tittle of it before."
+
+"Well, this is really extraordinary!  And, Phoebe, have you not
+received a pair of Limerick gloves?"
+
+"Yes, I have," said Phoebe, "but what then?  What have my Limerick
+gloves to do with the ball?"
+
+"A great deal," replied Jenny.  "Don't you know that a pair of
+Limerick gloves is, as one may say, a ticket to this ball? for
+every lady that has been asked has had a pair sent to her along
+with the card; and I believe as many as twenty, besides myself,
+have been asked this morning."
+
+Jenny then produced her new pair of Limerick gloves, and as she
+tried them on, and showed how well they fitted, she counted up the
+names of the ladies who, to her knowledge, were to be at this ball.
+When she had finished the catalogue, she expatiated upon the grand
+preparations which it was said the widow O'Neill, Mr. O'Neill's
+mother, was making for the supper, and concluded by condoling with
+Mrs. Hill for her misfortune in not having been invited.  Jenny
+took her leave to get her dress in readiness:  "for," added she,
+"Mr. O'Neill has engaged me to open the ball in case Phoebe does
+not go; but I suppose she will cheer up and go, as she has a pair
+of Limerick gloves as well as the rest of us."
+
+There was a silence for some minutes after Jenny's departure, which
+was broken by Phoebe, who told her mother that, early in the
+morning, a note had been brought to her, which she had returned
+unopened, because she knew, from the handwriting of the direction,
+that it came from Mr. O'Neill.
+
+We must observe that Phoebe had already told her mother of her
+meeting with this gentleman at the poor widow's, and of all that
+had passed between them afterwards.  This openness on her part had
+softened the heart of Mrs. Hill, who was really inclined to be
+good-natured, provided people would allow that she had more
+penetration than any one else in Hereford.  She was, moreover, a
+good deal piqued and alarmed by the idea that the perfumer's
+daughter might rival and outshine her own.  Whilst she had thought
+herself sure of Mr. O'Neill's attachment to Phoebe, she had looked
+higher, especially as she was persuaded by the perfumer's lady to
+think that an Irishman could not but be a bad match; but now she
+began to suspect that the perfumer's lady had changed her opinion
+of Irishmen, since she did not object to her own Jenny's leading up
+the ball at Mr. O'Neill's.
+
+All these thoughts passed rapidly in the mother's mind, and, with
+her fear of losing an admirer for her Phoebe, the value of that
+admirer suddenly rose in her estimation.  Thus, at an auction, if a
+lot is going to be knocked down to a lady who is the only person
+that has bid for it, even she feels discontented, and despises that
+which nobody covets; but if, as the hammer is falling, many voices
+answer to the question, "Who bids more?" then her anxiety to secure
+the prize suddenly rises, and, rather than be outbid, she will give
+far beyond its value.
+
+"Why, child," said Mrs. Hill, "since you have a pair of Limerick
+gloves; and since certainly that note was an invitation to us to
+this ball; and since it is much more fitting that you should open
+the ball than Jenny Brown; and since, after all, it was very
+handsome and genteel of the young man to say he would take you
+without a farthing in your pocket, which shows that those were
+misinformed who talked of him as an Irish adventurer; and since we
+are not certain 'twas he made away with the dog, although he said
+its barking was a great nuisance; there is no great reason to
+suppose he was the person who made the hole under the foundation of
+the cathedral, or that he could have such a wicked thought as to
+blow it up; and since he must be in a very good way of business to
+be able to afford giving away four or five guineas' worth of
+Limerick gloves, and balls and suppers; and since, after all, it is
+no fault of his to be an Irishman, I give it as my vote and
+opinion, my dear, that you put on your Limerick gloves and go to
+this ball; and I'll go and speak to your father, and bring him
+round to our opinion, and then I'll pay the morning visit I owe to
+the widow O'Neill and make up your quarrel with Brian.  Love
+quarrels are easy to make up, you know, and then we shall have
+things all upon velvet again, and Jenny Brown need not come with
+her hypocritical condoling face to us any more."
+
+After running this speech glibly off, Mrs. Hill, without waiting to
+hear a syllable from poor Phoebe, trotted off in search of her
+consort.  It was not, however, quite so easy a task as his wife
+expected, to bring Mr. Hill round to her opinion.  He was slow in
+declaring himself of any opinion; but when once he had said a
+thing, there was but little chance of altering his notions.  On
+this occasion Mr. Hill was doubly bound to his prejudice against
+our unlucky Irishman; for he had mentioned with great solemnity at
+the club which he frequented the grand affair of the hole under the
+foundation of the cathedral, and his suspicions that there was a
+design to blow it up.  Several of the club had laughed at this
+idea; others, who supposed that Mr. O'Neill was a Roman Catholic,
+and who had a confused notion that a Roman Catholic must be a very
+wicked, dangerous being, thought that there might be a great deal
+in the verger's suggestions, and observed that a very watchful eye
+ought to be kept upon this Irish glover, who had come to settle at
+Hereford nobody knew why, and who seemed to have money at command
+nobody knew how.
+
+The news of this ball sounded to Mr. Hill's prejudiced imagination
+like the news of a conspiracy.  "Ay! ay!" thought he; "the Irishman
+is cunning enough!  But we shall be too many for him:  he wants to
+throw all the good sober folks of Hereford off their guard by
+feasting, and dancing, and carousing, I take it, and so to
+perpetrate his evil design when it is least suspected; but we shall
+be prepared for him, fools as he takes us plain Englishmen to be, I
+warrant."
+
+In consequence of these most shrewd cogitations, our verger
+silenced his wife with a peremptory nod when she came to persuade
+him to let Phoebe put on the Limerick gloves and go to the ball.
+"To this ball she shall not go, and I charge her not to put on
+those Limerick gloves as she values my blessing," said Mr. Hill.
+"Please to tell her so, Mrs. Hill, and trust to my judgment and
+discretion in all things, Mrs. Hill.  Strange work may be in
+Hereford yet:  but I'll say no more; I must go and consult with
+knowing men who are of my opinion."
+
+He sallied forth, and Mrs. Hill was left in a state which only
+those who are troubled with the disease of excessive curiosity can
+rightly comprehend or compassionate.  She hied her back to Phoebe,
+to whom she announced her father's answer, and then went gossiping
+to all her female acquaintance in Hereford, to tell them all that
+she knew, and all that she did not know, and to endeavour to find
+out a secret where there was none to be found.
+
+There are trials of temper in all conditions, and no lady, in high
+or low life, could endure them with a better grace than Phoebe.
+Whilst Mr. and Mrs. Hill were busied abroad, there came to see
+Phoebe one of the widow Smith's children.  With artless expressions
+of gratitude to Phoebe this little girl mixed the praises of
+O'Neill, who, she said, had been the constant friend of her mother,
+and had given her money every week since the fire happened.  "Mammy
+loves him dearly for being so good-natured," continued the child;
+"and he has been good to other people as well as to us."
+
+"To whom?" said Phoebe.
+
+"To a poor man who has lodged for these few days past next door to
+us," replied the child; "I don't know his name rightly, but he is
+an Irishman, and he goes out a-haymaking in the daytime along with
+a number of others.  He knew Mr. O'Neill in his own country, and he
+told mammy a great deal about his goodness."
+
+As the child finished these words, Phoebe took out of a drawer some
+clothes, which she had made for the poor woman's children, and gave
+them to the little girl.  It happened that the Limerick gloves had
+been thrown into this drawer; and Phoebe's favourable sentiments of
+the giver of those gloves were revived by what she had just heard,
+and by the confession Mrs. Hill had made, that she had no reasons,
+and but vague suspicious, for thinking ill of him.  She laid the
+gloves perfectly smooth, and strewed over them, whilst the little
+girl went on talking of Mr. O'Neill, the leaves of a rose which she
+had worn on Sunday.
+
+Mr. Hill was all this time in deep conference with those prudent
+men of Hereford who were of his own opinion, about the perilous
+hole under the cathedral.  The ominous circumstance of this ball
+was also considered, the great expense at which the Irish glover
+lived, and his giving away gloves, which was a sure sign he was not
+under any necessity to sell them, and consequently a proof that,
+though he pretended to be a glover, he was something wrong in
+disguise.  Upon putting all these things together, it was resolved
+by these over-wise politicians that the best thing that could be
+done for Hereford, and the only possible means of preventing the
+immediate destruction of its cathedral, would be to take Mr.
+O'Neill into custody.  Upon recollection, however, it was perceived
+that there was no legal ground on which he could be attacked.  At
+length, after consulting an attorney, they devised what they
+thought an admirable mode of proceeding.
+
+Our Irish hero had not that punctuality which English tradesmen
+usually observe in the payment of bills; he had, the preceding
+year, run up a long bill with a grocer in Hereford, and, as he had
+not at Christmas cash in hand to pay it, he had given a note,
+payable six months after date.  The grocer, at Mr. Hill's request,
+made over the note to him, and it was determined that the money
+should be demanded, as it was now due, and that, if it was not paid
+directly, O'Neill should be that night arrested.  How Mr. Hill made
+the discovery of this debt to the grocer agree with his former
+notion that the Irish glover had always money at command we cannot
+well conceive, but anger and prejudice will swallow down the
+grossest contradictions without difficulty.
+
+When Mr. Hill's clerk went to demand payment of the note, O'Neill's
+head was full of the ball which he was to give that evening.  He
+was much surprised at the unexpected appearance of the note:  he
+had not ready money by him to pay it; and after swearing a good
+deal at the clerk, and complaining of this ungenerous and
+ungentleman-like behaviour in the grocer and the tanner, he told
+the clerk to be gone, and not to be bothering him at such an
+unseasonable time:  that he could not have the money then, and did
+not deserve to have it at all.
+
+This language and conduct were rather new to the English clerk's
+mercantile ears:  we cannot wonder that it should seem to him, as
+he said to his master, more the language of a madman than a man of
+business.  This want of punctuality in money transactions, and this
+mode of treating contracts as matters of favour and affection,
+might not have damned the fame of our hero in his own country,
+where such conduct is, alas! too common; but he was now in a
+kingdom where the manners and customs are so directly opposite,
+that he could meet with no allowance for his national faults.  It
+would be well for his countrymen if they were made, even by a few
+mortifications, somewhat sensible of this important difference in
+the habits of Irish and English traders before they come to settle
+in England.
+
+But to proceed with our story.  On the night of Mr. O'Neill's grand
+ball, as he was seeing his fair partner, the perfumer's daughter,
+safe home, he felt himself tapped on the shoulder by no friendly
+hand.  When he was told that he was the king's prisoner, he
+vociferated with sundry strange oaths, which we forbear to repeat.
+"No, I am not the king's prisoner!  I am the prisoner of that
+shabby, rascally tanner, Jonathan Hill.  None but he would arrest a
+gentleman in this way, for a trifle not worth mentioning."
+
+Miss Jenny Brown screamed when she found herself under the
+protection of a man who was arrested; and, what between her screams
+and his oaths, there was such a disturbance that a mob gathered.
+
+Among this mob there was a party of Irish hay-makers, who, after
+returning late from a hard day's work, had been drinking in a
+neighbouring ale-house.  With one accord they took part with their
+countryman, and would have rescued him from the civil officers with
+all the pleasure in life if he had not fortunately possessed just
+sufficient sense and command of himself to restrain their party
+spirit, and to forbid them, as they valued his life and reputation,
+to interfere, by word or deed, in his defence.
+
+He then despatched one of the haymakers home to his mother, to
+inform her of what had happened, and to request that she would get
+somebody to be bail for him as soon as possible, as the officers
+said they could not let him out of their sight till he was bailed
+by substantial people, or till the debt was discharged.
+
+The widow O'Neill was just putting out the candles in the ball-room
+when this news of her son's arrest was brought to her.  We pass
+over Hibernian exclamations:  she consoled her pride by reflecting
+that it would certainly be the most easy thing imaginable to
+procure bail for Mr. O'Neill in Hereford, where he had so many
+friends who had just been dancing at his house; but to dance at his
+house she found was one thing and to be bail for him quite another.
+Each guest sent excuses, and the widow O'Neill was astonished at
+what never fails to astonish everybody when it happens to
+themselves.  "Rather than let my son be detained in this manner for
+a paltry debt," cried she, "I'd sell all I have within half an hour
+to a pawnbroker."  It was well no pawnbroker heard this
+declaration:  she was too warm to consider economy.  She sent for a
+pawnbroker, who lived in the same street, and, after pledging goods
+to treble the amount of the debt, she obtained ready money for her
+son's release.
+
+O'Neill, after being in custody for about an hour and a half, was
+set at liberty upon the payment of his debt.  As he passed by the
+cathedral in his way home, he heard the clock strike; and he called
+to a man, who was walking backwards and forwards in the churchyard,
+to ask whether it was two or three that the clock struck.  "Three,"
+answered the man; "and, as yet, all is safe."
+
+O'Neill, whose head was full of other things, did not stop to
+inquire the meaning of these last words.  He little suspected that
+this man was a watchman whom the over-vigilant verger had stationed
+there to guard the Hereford Cathedral from his attacks.  O'Neill
+little guessed that he had been arrested merely to keep him from
+blowing up the cathedral this night.  The arrest had an excellent
+effect upon his mind, for he was a young man of good sense:  it
+made him resolve to retrench his expenses in time, to live more
+like a glover and less like a gentleman; and to aim more at
+establishing credit, and less at gaining popularity.  He found,
+from experience, that good friends will not pay bad debts.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+
+On Thursday morning our verger rose in unusually good spirits,
+congratulating himself upon the eminent service he had done to the
+city of Hereford by his sagacity in discovering the foreign plot to
+blow up the Cathedral, and by his dexterity in having the enemy
+held in custody, at the very hour when the dreadful deed was to
+have been perpetrated.  Mr. Hill's knowing friends farther agreed
+it would be necessary to have a guard that should sit up every
+night in the churchyard; and that as soon as they could, by
+constantly watching the enemy's motions, procure any information
+which the attorney should deem sufficient grounds for a legal
+proceeding, they should lay the whole business before the mayor.
+
+After arranging all this most judiciously and mysteriously with
+friends who were exactly of his own opinion, Mr. Hill laid aside
+his dignity of verger, and assuming his other character of a
+tanner, proceeded to his tan-yard.  What was his surprise and
+consternation, when he beheld his great rick of oak bark levelled
+to the ground; the pieces of bark were scattered far and wide, some
+over the close, some over the fields, and some were seen swimming
+upon the water!  No tongue, no pen, no muse can describe the
+feelings of our tanner at this spectacle--feelings which became the
+more violent from the absolute silence which he imposed on himself
+upon this occasion.  He instantly decided in his own mind that this
+injury was perpetrated by O'Neill, in revenge for his arrest; and
+went privately to the attorney to inquire what was to be done, on
+his part, to secure legal vengeance.
+
+The attorney unluckily--or at least, as Mr. Hill thought,
+unluckily--had been sent for, half an hour before, by a gentleman
+at some distance from Hereford, to draw up a will:  so that our
+tanner was obliged to postpone his legal operations.
+
+We forbear to recount his return, and how many times he walked up
+and down the close to view his scattered bark, and to estimate the
+damage that had been done to him.  At length that hour came which
+usually suspends all passions by the more imperious power of
+appetite--the hour of dinner:  an hour of which it was never
+needful to remind Mr. Hill by watch, clock, or dial; for he was
+blessed with a punctual appetite, and powerful as punctual:  so
+powerful, indeed, that it often excited the spleen of his more
+genteel or less hungry wife.  "Bless my stars!  Mr. Hill," she
+would oftentimes say, "I am really downright ashamed to see you eat
+so much; and when company is to dine with us, I do wish you would
+take a snack by way of a damper before dinner, that you may not
+look so prodigious famishing and ungenteel."
+
+Upon this hint, Mr. Hill commenced a practice, to which he ever
+afterwards religiously adhered, of going, whether there was to be
+company or no company, into the kitchen regularly every day, half
+an hour before dinner, to take a slice from the roast or the boiled
+before it went up to table.  As he was this day, according to his
+custom, in the kitchen, taking his snack by way of a damper, he
+heard the housemaid and the cook talking about some wonderful
+fortune-teller, whom the housemaid had been consulting.  This
+fortune-teller was no less a personage than the successor to
+Bampfylde Moore Carew, king of the gipsies, whose life and
+adventures are probably in many, too many, of our readers' hands.
+Bampfylde, the second king of the gipsies, assumed this title, in
+hopes of becoming as famous, or as infamous, as his predecessor:
+he was now holding his court in a wood near the town of Hereford,
+and numbers of servant-maids and 'prentices went to consult him--
+nay, it was whispered that he was resorted to, secretly, by some
+whose education might have taught them better sense.
+
+Numberless were the instances which our verger heard in his kitchen
+of the supernatural skill of this cunning man; and whilst Mr. Hill
+ate his snack with his wonted gravity, he revolved great designs in
+his secret soul.  Mrs. Hill was surprised, several times during
+dinner, to see her consort put down his knife and fork, and
+meditate.  "Gracious me, Mr. Hill! what can have happened to you
+this day?  What can you be thinking of, Mr. Hill, that can make you
+forget what you have upon your plate?"
+
+"Mrs. Hill," replied the thoughtful verger, "our grandmother Eve
+had too much curiosity; and we all know it did not lead to good.
+What I am thinking of will be known to you in due time, but not
+now, Mrs. Hill; therefore, pray, no questions, or teasing, or
+pumping.  What I think, I think; what I say, I say; what I know, I
+know; and that is enough for you to know at present:  only this,
+Phoebe, you did very well not to put on the Limerick gloves, child.
+What I know, I know.  Things will turn out just as I said from the
+first.  What I say, I say; and what I think, I think; and this is
+enough for you to know at present."
+
+Having finished dinner with this solemn speech, Mr. Hill settled
+himself in his arm-chair, to take his after-dinner's nap:  and he
+dreamed of blowing up cathedrals, and of oak bark floating upon the
+waters; and the cathedral was, he thought, blown up by a man
+dressed in a pair of woman's Limerick gloves, and the oak bark
+turned into mutton steaks, after which his great dog Jowler was
+swimming; when, all on a sudden, as he was going to beat Jowler for
+eating the bark transformed into mutton steaks, Jowler became
+Bampfylde the Second, king of the gipsies; and putting a horse-whip
+with a silver handle into Hill's hand, commanded him three times,
+in a voice as loud as the town-crier's, to have O'Neill whipped
+through the market-place of Hereford:  but just as he was going to
+the window to see this whipping, his wig fell off, and he awoke.
+
+It was difficult, even for Mr. Hill's sagacity, to make sense of
+this dream:  but he had the wise art of always finding in his
+dreams something that confirmed his waking determinations.  Before
+he went to sleep, he had half resolved to consult the king of the
+gipsies, in the absence of the attorney; and his dream made him now
+wholly determined upon this prudent step.  "From Bampfylde the
+Second," thought he, "I shall learn for certain who made the hole
+under the cathedral, who pulled down my rick of bark, and who made
+away with my dog Jowler; and then I shall swear examinations
+against O'Neill, without waiting for attorneys.  I will follow my
+own way in this business:  I have always found my own way best."
+
+So, when the dusk of the evening increased, our wise man set out
+towards the wood to consult the cunning man.  Bampfylde the Second,
+king of the gipsies, resided in a sort of hut made of the branches
+of trees; the verger stooped, but did not stoop low enough, as he
+entered this temporary palace, and, whilst his body was almost bent
+double, his peruke was caught upon a twig.  From this awkward
+situation he was relieved by the consort of the king; and he now
+beheld, by the light of some embers, the person of his gipsy
+majesty, to whose sublime appearance this dim light was so
+favourable that it struck a secret awe into our wise man's soul;
+and, forgetting Hereford Cathedral, and oak bark, and Limerick
+gloves, he stood for some seconds speechless.  During this time,
+the queen very dexterously disencumbered his pocket of all
+superfluous articles.  When he recovered his recollection, he put
+with great solemnity the following queries to the king of the
+gipsies, and received the following answers:-
+
+"Do you know a dangerous Irishman of the name of O'Neill, who has
+come, for purposes best known to himself, to settle at Hereford?"
+
+"Yes, we know him well."
+
+"Indeed!  And what do you know of him?"
+
+"That he is a dangerous Irishman."
+
+"Right!  And it was he, was it not, that pulled down, or caused to
+be pulled down, my rick of oak bark?"
+
+"It was."
+
+"And who was it that made away with my dog Jowler, that used to
+guard the tan-yard?"
+
+"It was the person that you suspect."
+
+"And was it the person whom I suspect that made the hole under the
+foundation of our cathedral?"
+
+"The same, and no other."
+
+"And for what purpose did he make that hole?"
+
+"For a purpose that must not be named," replied the king of the
+gipsies, nodding his head in a mysterious manner.
+
+"But it may be named to me," cried the verger, "for I have found it
+out, and I am one of the vergers; and is it not fit that a plot to
+blow up the Hereford Cathedral should be known TO me, and THROUGH
+me?"
+
+
+"Now, take my word,
+Wise men of Hereford,
+None in safety may be,
+Till the bad man doth flee."
+
+
+These oracular verses, pronounced by Bampfylde with all the
+enthusiasm of one who was inspired, had the desired effect upon our
+wise man; and he left the presence of the king of the gipsies with
+a prodigiously high opinion of his majesty's judgment and of his
+own, fully resolved to impart, the next morning, to the mayor of
+Hereford his important discoveries.
+
+Now it happened that, during the time Mr. Hill was putting the
+foregoing queries to Bampfylde the Second, there came to the door
+or entrance of the audience chamber an Irish haymaker who wanted to
+consult the cunning man about a little leathern purse which he had
+lost whilst he was making hay in a field near Hereford.  This
+haymaker was the same person who, as we have related, spoke so
+advantageously of our hero O'Neill to the widow Smith.  As this
+man, whose name was Paddy M'Cormack, stood at the entrance of the
+gipsies' hut, his attention was caught by the name of O'Neill; and
+he lost not a word of all that pasted.  He had reason to be
+somewhat surprised at hearing Bampfylde assert it was O'Neill who
+had pulled down the rick of bark.  "By the holy poker!" said he to
+himself, "the old fellow now is out there.  I know more o' that
+matter than he does--no offence to his majesty; he knows no more of
+my purse, I'll engage now, than he does of this man's rick of bark
+and his dog:  so I'll keep my tester in my pocket, and not be
+giving it to this king o' the gipsies, as they call him:  who, as
+near as I can guess, is no better than a cheat.  But there is one
+secret which I can be telling this conjuror himself:  he shall not
+find it such an easy matter to do all what he thinks; he shall not
+be after ruining an innocent countryman of my own whilst Paddy
+M'Cormack has a tongue and brains."
+
+Now, Paddy M'Cormack had the best reason possible for knowing that
+Mr. O'Neill did not pull down Mr. Hill's rick of bark; it was
+M'Cormack himself who, in the heat of his resentment for the
+insulting arrest of his countryman in the streets of Hereford, had
+instigated his fellow haymakers to this mischief; he headed them,
+and thought he was doing a clever, spirited action.
+
+There is a strange mixture of virtue and vice in the minds of the
+lower class of Irish:  or rather, a strange confusion in their
+ideas of right and wrong, from want of proper education.  As soon
+as poor Paddy found out that his spirited action of pulling down
+the rick of bark was likely to be the ruin of his countryman, he
+resolved to make all the amends in his power for his folly--he went
+to collect his fellow haymakers, and persuaded them to assist him
+this night in rebuilding what they had pulled down.
+
+They went to this work when everybody except themselves, as they
+thought, was asleep in Hereford.  They had just completed the
+stack, and were all going away except Paddy, who was seated at the
+very top, finishing the pile, when they heard a loud voice cry out,
+"Here they are!  Watch!  Watch!"
+
+Immediately all the haymakers who could, ran off as fast as
+possible.  It was the watch who had been sitting up at the
+cathedral who gave the alarm.  Paddy was taken from the top of the
+rick and lodged in the watch-house till morning.  "Since I'm to be
+rewarded this way for doing a good action, sorrow take me," said
+he, "if they catch me doing another the longest day ever I live."
+
+Happy they who have in their neighbourhood such a magistrate as Mr.
+Marshal!  He was a man who, to an exact knowledge of the duties of
+his office, joined the power of discovering truth from the midst of
+contradictory evidence, and the happy art of soothing or laughing
+the angry passions into good-humour.  It was a common saying in
+Hereford that no one ever came out of Justice Marshal's house as
+angry as he went into it.
+
+Mr. Marshal had scarcely breakfasted when he was informed that Mr.
+Hill, the verger, wanted to speak to him on business of the utmost
+importance.  Mr. Hill, the verger, was ushered in; and, with gloomy
+solemnity, took a seat opposite to Mr. Marshal.
+
+"Sad doings in Hereford, Mr. Marshal!  Sad doings, sir."
+
+"Sad doings?  Why, I was told we had merry doings in Hereford.  A
+ball the night before last, as I heard."
+
+"So much the worse, Mr. Marshal--so much the worse:  as those think
+with reason that see as far into things as I do."
+
+"So much the better, Mr. Hill," said Mr. Marshal, laughing, "so
+much the better:  as those think with reason that see no farther
+into things than I do."
+
+"But, sir," said the verger, still more solemnly, "this is no
+laughing matter, nor time for laughing, begging your pardon.  Why,
+sir, the night of that there diabolical ball our Hereford
+Cathedral, sir, would have been blown up--blown up from the
+foundation, if it had not been for me, sir!"
+
+"Indeed, Mr. Verger!  And pray how, and by whom, was the cathedral
+to be blown up? and what was there diabolical in this ball?"
+
+Here Mr. Hill let Mr. Marshal into the whole history of his early
+dislike to O'Neill, and his shrewd suspicions of him the first
+moment he saw him in Hereford:  related in the most prolix manner
+all that the reader knows already, and concluded by saying that, as
+he was now certain of his facts, he was come to swear examinations
+against this villanous Irishman, who, he hoped, would be speedily
+brought to justice, as he deserved.
+
+"To justice he shall be brought, as he deserves," said Mr. Marshal;
+"but before I write, and before you swear, will you have the
+goodness to inform me how you have made yourself as certain, as you
+evidently are, of what you call your facts?"
+
+"Sir, that is a secret," replied our wise man, "which I shall trust
+to you alone;" and he whispered into Mr. Marshal's ear that, his
+information came from Bampfylde the Second, king of the gipsies.
+
+Mr. Marshal instantly burst into laughter; then composing himself,
+said:  "My good sir, I am really glad that you have proceeded no
+farther in this business; and that no one in Hereford, beside
+myself, knows that you were on the point of swearing examinations
+against a man on the evidence of Bampfylde the Second, king of the
+gipsies.  My dear sir, it would be a standing joke against you to
+the end of your days.  A grave man like Mr. Hill! and a verger too!
+Why you would be the laughing-stock of Hereford!"
+
+Now Mr. Marshal well knew the character of the man to whom he was
+talking, who, above all things on earth, dreaded to be laughed at.
+Mr. Hill coloured all over his face, and, pushing back his wig by
+way of settling it, showed that he blushed not only all over his
+face, but all over his head.
+
+"Why, Mr. Marshal, sir," said he, "as to my being laughed at, it is
+what I did not look for, being, as there are, some men in Hereford
+to whom I have mentioned that hole in the cathedral, who have
+thought it no laughing matter, and who have been precisely of my
+own opinion thereupon."
+
+"But did you tell these gentlemen that you had been consulting the
+king of the gipsies?"
+
+"No, sir, no:  I can't say that I did."
+
+"Then I advise you, keep your own counsel, as I will."
+
+Mr. Hill, whose imagination wavered between the hole in the
+cathedral and his rick of bark on one side, and between his rick of
+bark and his dog Jowler on the other, now began to talk of the dog,
+and now of the rick of bark; and when he had exhausted all he had
+to say upon these subjects, Mr. Marshal gently pulled him towards
+the window, and putting a spy-glass into his hand, bade him look
+towards his own tan-yard, and tell him what he saw.  To his great
+surprise, Mr. Hill saw his rick of bark re-built.  "Why, it was not
+there last night," exclaimed he, rubbing his eyes.  "Why, some
+conjuror must have done this."
+
+"No," replied Mr. Marshal, "no conjuror did it:  but your friend
+Bampfylde the Second, king of the gipsies, was the cause of its
+being re-built; and here is the man who actually pulled it down,
+and who actually re-built it."
+
+As he said these words Mr. Marshal opened the door of an adjoining
+room and beckoned to the Irish hay-maker, who had been taken into
+custody about an hour before this time.  The watch who took Paddy
+had called at Mr. Hill's house to tell him what had happened, but
+Mr. Hill was not then at home.
+
+It was with much surprise that the verger heard the simple truth
+from this poor fellow; but no sooner was he convinced that O'Neill
+was innocent as to this affair, than he recurred to his other
+ground of suspicion, the loss of his dog.
+
+The Irish haymaker now stepped forward, and, with a peculiar twist
+of the hips and shoulders, which those only who have seen it can
+picture to themselves, said, "Plase your honour's honour, I have a
+little word to say too about the dog."
+
+"Say it, then," said Mr. Marshal.
+
+"Plase your honour, if I might expect to be forgiven, and let off
+for pulling down the jontleman's stack, I might be able to tell him
+what I know about the dog."
+
+"If you can tell me anything about my dog," said the tanner, "I
+will freely forgive you for pulling down the rick:  especially as
+you have built it up again.  Speak the truth, now:  did not O'Neill
+make away with the dog?"
+
+"Not at all, at all, plase your honour," replied the haymaker:
+"and the truth of the matter is, I know nothing of the dog, good or
+bad; but I know something of his collar, if your name, plase your
+honour, is Hill, as I take it to be."
+
+"My name is Hill:  proceed," said the tanner, with great eagerness.
+"You know something about the collar of my dog Jowler?"
+
+"Plase your honour, this much I know, any way, that it is now, or
+was the night before last, at the pawnbroker's there, below in
+town; for, plase your honour, I was sent late at night (that night
+that Mr. O'Neill, long life to him! was arrested) to the
+pawnbroker's for a Jew by Mrs. O'Neill, poor creature!  She was in
+great trouble that same time."
+
+"Very likely," interrupted Mr. Hill:  "but go on to the collar;
+what of the collar?"
+
+"She sent me--I'll tell you the story, plase your honour, out of
+the face--she sent me to the pawnbroker's for the Jew; and, it
+being so late at night, the shop was shut, and it was with all the
+trouble in life that I got into the house any way:  and, when I got
+in, there was none but a slip of a boy up; and he set down the
+light that he had in his hand, and ran up the stairs to waken his
+master:  and, whilst he was gone, I just made bold to look round at
+what sort of a place I was in, and at the old clothes and rags and
+scraps; there was a sort of a frieze trusty."
+
+"A trusty!" said Mr. Hill; "what is that, pray?"
+
+"A big coat, sure, plase your honour:  there was a frieze big coat
+lying in a corner, which I had my eye upon, to trate myself to:  I
+having, as I then thought, money in my little purse enough for it.
+Well, I won't trouble your honour's honour with telling of you now
+how I lost my purse in the field, as I found after; but about the
+big coat--as I was saying, I just lifted it off the ground to see
+would it fit me; and, as I swung it round, something, plase your
+honour, hit me a great knock on the shins:  it was in the pocket of
+the coat, whatever it was, I knew; so I looks into the pocket to
+see what was it, plase your honour, and out I pulls a hammer and a
+dog-collar:  it was a wonder, both together, they did not break my
+shins entirely:  but it's no matter for my shins now; so, before
+the boy came down, I just out of idleness spelt out to myself the
+name that was upon the collar:  there were two names, plase your
+honour, and out of the first there were so many letters hammered
+out I could make nothing of it at all, at all; but the other name
+was plain enough to read, any way, and it was Hill, plase your
+honour's honour, as sure as life:  Hill, now."
+
+This story was related in tones and gestures which were so new and
+strange to English ears and eyes, that even the solemnity of our
+verger gave way to laughter.
+
+Mr. Marshal sent a summons for the pawnbroker, that he might learn
+from him how he came by the dog-collar.  The pawnbroker, when he
+found from Mr. Marshal that he could by no other means save himself
+from being committed to prison, confessed that the collar had been
+sold to him by Bampfylde the Second, king of the gipsies.
+
+A warrant was immediately despatched for his majesty; and Mr. Hill
+was a good deal alarmed by the fear of its being known in Hereford
+that he was on the point of swearing examinations against an
+innocent man upon the evidence of a dog-stealer and a gipsy.
+
+Bampfylde the Second made no sublime appearance when he was brought
+before Mr. Marshal, nor could all his astrology avail upon this
+occasion.  The evidence of the pawnbroker was so positive as to the
+fact of his having sold to him the dog-collar, that there was no
+resource left for Bampfylde but an appeal to Mr. Hill's mercy.  He
+fell on his knees, and confessed that it was he who stole the dog,
+which used to bark at him at night so furiously, that he could not
+commit certain petty depredations by which, as much as by telling
+fortunes, he made his livelihood
+
+"And so," said Mr. Marshal, with a sternness of manner which till
+now he had never shown, "to screen yourself, you accused an
+innocent man; and by your vile arts would have driven him from
+Hereford, and have set two families for ever at variance, to
+conceal that you had stolen a dog."
+
+The king of the gipsies was, without further ceremony, committed to
+the house of correction.  We should not omit to mention that, on
+searching his hat, the Irish haymaker's purse was found, which some
+of his majesty's train had emptied.  The whole set of gipsies
+decamped upon the news of the apprehension of their monarch.
+
+Mr. Hill stood in profound silence, leaning upon his walking-stick,
+whilst the committal was making out for Bampfylde the Second.  The
+fear of ridicule was struggling with the natural positiveness of
+his temper.  He was dreadfully afraid that the story of his being
+taken in by the king of the gipsies would get abroad; and, at the
+same time, he was unwilling to give up his prejudice against the
+Irish glover.
+
+"But, Mr. Marshal," cried he, after a long silence, "the hole under
+the foundation of the cathedral has never been accounted for--that
+is, was, and ever will be, an ugly mystery to me; and I never can
+have a good opinion of this Irishman till it is cleared up, nor can
+I think the cathedral in safety."
+
+"What!" said Mr. Marshal, with an arch smile, "I suppose the verses
+of the oracle still work upon your imagination, Mr. Hill.  They are
+excellent in their kind.  I must have them by heart, that when I am
+asked the reason why Mr. Hill has taken an aversion to an Irish
+glover, I may be able to repeat them:-
+
+
+"Now, take my word,
+Wise men of Hereford,
+None in safety may be,
+Till the bad man doth flee."
+
+
+"You'll oblige me, sir," said the verger, "if you would never
+repeat those verses, sir, nor mention, in any company, the affair
+of the king of the gipsies."
+
+"I will oblige you," replied Mr. Marshal, "if you will oblige me.
+Will you tell me honestly whether, now that you find this Mr.
+O'Neill is neither a dog-killer nor a puller-down of bark-ricks,
+you feel that you could forgive him for being an Irishman, if the
+mystery, as you call it, of the hole under the cathedral was
+cleared up?"
+
+"But that is not cleared up, I say, sir," cried Mr. Hill, striking
+his walking-stick forcibly upon the ground with both his hands.
+"As to the matter of his being an Irishman, I have nothing to say
+to it; I am not saying anything about that, for I know we all are
+born where it pleases God, and an Irishman may be as good as
+another.  I know that much, Mr. Marshal, and I am not one of those
+illiberal-minded, ignorant people that cannot abide a man that was
+not born in England.  Ireland is now in his majesty's dominions.  I
+know very well, Mr. Marshal; and I have no manner of doubt, as I
+said before, that an Irishman born may be as good, almost, as an
+Englishman born."
+
+"I am glad," said Mr. Marshal, "to hear you speak--almost as
+reasonably as an Englishman born and every man ought to speak; and
+I am convinced that you have too much English hospitality to
+persecute an inoffensive stranger, who comes amongst us trusting to
+our justice and good nature."
+
+"I would not persecute a stranger, God forbid!" replied the verger,
+"if he was, as you say, inoffensive."
+
+"And if he was not only inoffensive, but ready to do every service
+in his power to those who are in want of his assistance, we should
+not return evil for good, should we?"
+
+"That would be uncharitable, to be sure; and, moreover, a scandal,"
+said the verger.
+
+"Then," said Mr. Marshal, "will you walk with me as far as the
+Widow Smith's, the poor woman whose house was burnt last winter?
+This haymaker, who lodged near her, can show us the way to her
+present abode."
+
+During his examination of Paddy M'Cormack, who would tell his whole
+history, as he called it, out of the face, Mr. Marshal heard
+several instances of the humanity and goodness of O'Neill, which
+Paddy related to excuse himself for that warmth of attachment to
+his cause that had been manifested so injudiciously by pulling down
+the rick of bark in revenge for the rest.  Amongst other things,
+Paddy mentioned his countryman's goodness to the Widow Smith.  Mr.
+Marshal was determined, therefore, to see whether he had, in this
+instance, spoken the truth; and he took Hill with him, in hopes of
+being able to show him the favourable side of O'Neill's character.
+
+Things turned out just as Mr. Marshal expected.  The poor widow and
+her family, in the most simple and affecting manner, described the
+distress from which they had been relieved by the good gentleman;
+and lady--the lady was Phoebe Hill; and the praises that were
+bestowed upon Phoebe were delightful to her father's ear, whose
+angry passions had now all subsided.
+
+The benevolent Mr. Marshal seized the moment when he saw Mr. Hill's
+heart was touched, and exclaimed, "I must be acquainted with this
+Mr. O'Neill.  I am sure we people of Hereford ought to show some
+hospitality to a stranger who has so much humanity.  Mr. Hill, will
+you dine with him to-morrow at my house?"
+
+Mr. Hill was just going to accept of this invitation, when the
+recollection of all he had said to his club about the hole under
+the cathedral came across him, and, drawing Mr. Marshal aside, he
+whispered, "But, sir, sir, that affair of the hole under the
+cathedral has not been cleared up yet."
+
+At this instant the Widow Smith exclaimed, "Oh! here comes my
+little Mary" (one of her children, who came running in); "this is
+the little girl, sir, to whom the lady has been so good.  Make your
+curtsey, child.  Where have you been all this while?"
+
+"Mammy," said the child, "I've been showing the lady my rat."
+
+"Lord bless her!  Gentlemen, the child has been wanting me this
+many a day to go to see this tame rat of hers; but I could never
+get time, never--and I wondered, too, at the child's liking such a
+creature.  Tell the gentlemen, dear, about your rat.  All I know is
+that, let her have but never such a tiny bit of bread for breakfast
+or supper, she saves a little of that little for this rat of hers;
+she and her brothers have found it out somewhere by the cathedral."
+
+"It comes out of a hole under the wall of the cathedral," said one
+of the older boys; "and we have diverted ourselves watching it, and
+sometimes we have put victuals for it--so it has grown, in a
+manner, tame-like."
+
+Mr. Hill and Mr. Marshal looked at one another during this speech;
+and the dread of ridicule again seized on Mr. Hill, when he
+apprehended that, after all he had said, the mountain might at last
+bring forth--a rat.  Mr. Marshal, who instantly saw what passed in
+the verger's mind, relieved him from this fear by refraining even
+from a smile on this occasion.  He only said to the child, in a
+grave manner, "I am afraid, my dear, we shall be obliged to spoil
+your diversion.  Mr. Verger, here, cannot suffer rat-holes in the
+cathedral; but, to make you amends for the loss of your favourite,
+I will give you a very pretty little dog, if you have a mind."
+
+The child was well pleased with this promise; and, at Mr. Marshal's
+desire, she then went along with him and Mr. Hill to the cathedral,
+and they placed themselves at a little distance from that hole
+which had created so much disturbance.  The child soon brought the
+dreadful enemy to light; and Mr. Hill, with a faint laugh, said,
+"I'm glad it's no worse, but there were many in our club who were
+of my opinion; and, if they had not suspected O'Neill too, I am
+sure I should never have given you so much trouble, sir, as I have
+done this morning.  But I hope, as the club know nothing about that
+vagabond, that king of the gipsies, you will not let any one know
+anything about the prophecy, and all that?  I am sure I am very
+sorry to have given you so much trouble, Mr. Marshal."
+
+Mr. Marshal assured him that he did not regret the time which he
+had spent in endeavouring to clear up all those mysteries and
+suspicions; and Mr. Hill gladly accepted his invitation to meet
+O'Neill at his house the next day.  No sooner had Mr. Marshal
+brought one of the parties to reason and good humour than he went
+to prepare the other for a reconciliation.  O'Neill and his mother
+were both people of warm but forgiving tempers--the arrest was
+fresh in their minds; but when Mr. Marshal represented to them the
+whole affair, and the verger's prejudices, in a humorous light,
+they joined in the good-natured laugh; and O'Neill declared that,
+for his part, he was ready to forgive and to forget everything if
+he could but see Miss Phoebe in the Limerick gloves.
+
+Phoebe appeared the next day, at Mr. Marshal's, in the Limerick
+gloves; and no perfume ever was so delightful to her lover as the
+smell of the rose-leaves in which they had been kept.
+
+Mr. Marshal had the benevolent pleasure of reconciling the two
+families.  The tanner and the glover of Hereford became, from
+bitter enemies, useful friends to each other; and they were
+convinced by experience that nothing could be more for their mutual
+advantage than to live in union.
+
+
+
+
+MADAME DE FLEURY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+
+"There oft are heard the notes of infant woe,
+The short thick sob, loud scream, and shriller squall -
+How can you, mothers, vex your infants so?"--POPE
+
+"D'abord, madame, c'est impossible!--Madame ne descendra pas ici?"
+said Francois, the footman of Madame de Fleury, with a half
+expostulatory, half indignant look, as he let down the step of her
+carriage at the entrance of a dirty passage, that led to one of the
+most miserable-looking houses in Paris.
+
+"But what can be the cause of the cries which I hear in this
+house?" said Madame de Fleury.
+
+"'Tis only some child who is crying," replied Francois; and he
+would have put up the step, but his lady was not satisfied.
+
+"'Tis nothing in the world," continued he, with a look of appeal to
+the coachman, "it CAN be nothing, but some children who are locked
+up there above.  The mother, the workwoman my lady wants, is not at
+home:  that's certain."
+
+"I must know the cause of these cries; I must see these children"
+said Madame de Fleury, getting out of her carriage.
+
+Francois held his arm for his lady as she got out.
+
+"Bon!" cried he, with an air of vexation. "Si madame la vent
+absolument, a la bonne heure!--Mais madame sera abimee.  Madame
+verra que j'ai raison.  Madame ne montera jamais ce vilain
+escalier.  D'ailleurs c'est au cinquieme.  Mais, madame, c'est
+impossible."
+
+Notwithstanding the impossibility, Madame de Fleury proceeded; and
+bidding her talkative footman wait in the entry, made her way up
+the dark, dirty, broken staircase, the sound of the cries
+increasing every instant, till, as she reached the fifth storey,
+she heard the shrieks of one in violent pain.  She hastened to the
+door of the room from which the cries proceeded; the door was
+fastened, and the noise was so great that, though she knocked as
+loud as she was able, she could not immediately make herself heard.
+At last the voice of a child from within answered, "The door is
+locked--mamma has the key in her pocket, and won't be home till
+night; and here's Victoire has tumbled from the top of the big
+press, and it is she that is shrieking so."
+
+Madame de Fleury ran down the stairs which she had ascended with so
+much difficulty, called to her footman, who was waiting in the
+entry, despatched him for a surgeon, and then she returned to
+obtain from some people who lodged in the house assistance to force
+open the door of the room in which the children were confined.
+
+On the next floor there was a smith at work, filing so earnestly
+that he did not hear the screams of the children.  When his door
+was pushed open, and the bright vision of Madame de Fleury appeared
+to him, his astonishment was so great that he seemed incapable of
+comprehending what she said.  In a strong provincial accent he
+repeated, "Plait-il?" and stood aghast till she had explained
+herself three times; then suddenly exclaiming, "Ah! c'est ca;"--he
+collected his tools precipitately, and followed to obey her orders.
+The door of the room was at last forced half open, for a press that
+had been overturned prevented its opening entirely.  The horrible
+smells that issued did not overcome Madame de Fleury's humanity:
+she squeezed her way into the room, and behind the fallen press saw
+three little children:  the youngest, almost an infant, ceased
+roaring, and ran to a corner; the eldest, a boy of about eight
+years old, whose face and clothes were covered with blood, held on
+his knee a girl younger than himself, whom he was trying to pacify,
+but who struggled most violently and screamed incessantly,
+regardless of Madame de Fleury, to whose questions she made no
+answer.
+
+"Where are you hurt, my dear?" repeated Madame de Fleury in a
+soothing voice.  "Only tell me where you feel pain?"
+
+The boy, showing his sister's arm, said, in a surly tone--"It is
+this that is hurt--but it was not I did it."
+
+"It was, it WAS!" cried the girl as loud as she could vociferate:
+"it was Maurice threw me down from the top of the press."
+
+"No--it was you that were pushing me, Victoire, and you fell
+backwards.--Have done screeching, and show your arm to the lady."
+
+"I can't," said the girl.
+
+"She won't," said the boy.
+
+"She cannot," said Madame de Fleury, kneeling down to examine it.
+"She cannot move it; I am afraid that it is broken."
+
+"Don't touch it! don't touch it!" cried the girl, screaming more
+violently.
+
+"Ma'am, she screams that way for nothing often," said the boy.
+"Her arm is no more broke than mine, I'm sure; she'll move it well
+enough when she's not cross."
+
+"I am afraid," said Madame de Fleury, "that her arm is broken."
+
+"Is it indeed?" said the boy, with a look of terror.
+
+"Oh! don't touch it--you'll kill me; you are killing me," screamed
+the poor girl, whilst Madame de Fleury with the greatest care
+endeavoured to join the bones in their proper place, and resolved
+to hold the arm till the arrival of the surgeon.
+
+From the feminine appearance of this lady, no stranger would have
+expected such resolution; but with all the natural sensibility and
+graceful delicacy of her sex, she had none of that weakness or
+affection which incapacitates from being useful in real distress.
+In most sudden accidents, and in all domestic misfortunes, female
+resolution and presence of mind are indispensably requisite:
+safety, health, and life often depend upon the fortitude of women.
+Happy they who, like Madame de Fleury, possess strength of mind
+united with the utmost gentleness of manner and tenderness of
+disposition!
+
+Soothed by this lady's sweet voice, the child's rage subsided; and
+no longer struggling, the poor little girl sat quietly on her lap,
+sometimes writhing and moaning with pain.
+
+The surgeon at length arrived:  her arm was set:  and he said "that
+she had probably been saved much future pain by Madame de Fleury's
+presence of mind."
+
+"Sir,--will it soon be well?" said Maurice to the surgeon.
+
+"Oh yes, very soon, I dare say," said the little girl.  "To-morrow,
+perhaps; for now that it is tied up it does not hurt me to signify-
+-and after all, I do believe, Maurice, it was not you threw me
+down."
+
+As she spoke, she held up her face to kiss her brother.--"That is
+right," said Madame de Fleury; "there is a good sister."
+
+The little girl put out her lips, offering a second kiss, but the
+boy turned hastily away to rub the tears from his eyes with the
+back of his hand.
+
+"I am not cross now:  am I, Maurice?"
+
+"No, Victoire; I was cross myself when I said THAT."
+
+As Victoire was going to speak again, the surgeon imposed silence,
+observing that she must be put to bed, and should be kept quiet.
+Madame de Fleury laid her upon the bed, as soon as Maurice had
+cleared it of the things with which it was covered; and as they
+were spreading the ragged blanket over the little girl, she
+whispered a request to Madame de Fleury that she would "stay till
+her mamma came home, to beg Maurice off from being whipped, if
+mamma should be angry."
+
+Touched by this instance of goodness, and compassionating the
+desolate condition of these children, Madame de Fleury complied
+with Victoire's request; resolving to remonstrate with their mother
+for leaving them locked up in this manner.  They did not know to
+what part of the town their mother was gone; they could tell only
+"that she was to go to a great many different places to carry back
+work, and to bring home more, and that she expected to be in by
+five."  It was now half after four.
+
+Whilst Madame de Fleury waited, she asked the boy to give her a
+full account of the manner in which the accident had happened.
+
+"Why, ma'am," said Maurice, twisting and untwisting a ragged
+handkerchief as he spoke, "the first beginning of all the mischief
+was, we had nothing to do, so we went to the ashes to make dirt
+pies; but Babet would go so close that she burnt her petticoat, and
+threw about all our ashes, and plagued us, and we whipped her.  But
+all would not do, she would not be quiet; so to get out of her
+reach, we climbed up by this chair on the table to the top of the
+press, and there we were well enough for a little while, till
+somehow we began to quarrel about the old scissors, and we
+struggled hard for them till I got this cut."
+
+Here he unwound the handkerchief, and for the first time showed the
+wound, which he had never mentioned before.
+
+"Then," continued he, "when I got the cut, I shoved Victoire, and
+she pushed at me again, and I was keeping her off, and her foot
+slipped, and down she fell, and caught by the press-door, and
+pulled it and me after her, and that's all I know."
+
+"It is well that you were not both killed," said Madame de Fleury.
+"Are you often left locked up in this manner by yourselves, and
+without anything to do?"
+
+"Yes, always, when mamma is abroad, except sometimes we are let out
+upon the stairs or in the street; but mamma says we get into
+mischief there."
+
+This dialogue was interrupted by the return of the mother.  She
+came upstairs slowly, much fatigued, and with a heavy bundle under
+her arm.
+
+"How now!  Maurice, how comes my door open?  What's all this?"
+cried she, in an angry voice; but seeing a lady sitting upon her
+child's bed, she stopped short in great astonishment.  Madame de
+Fleury related what had happened, and averted her anger from
+Maurice by gently expostulating upon the hardship and hazard of
+leaving her young children in this manner during so many hours of
+the day.
+
+"Why, my lady," replied the poor woman, wiping her forehead, "every
+hard-working woman in Paris does the same with her children; and
+what can I do else?  I must earn bread for these helpless ones, and
+to do that I must be out backwards and forwards, and to the
+furthest parts of the town, often from morning till night, with
+those that employ me; and I cannot afford to send the children to
+school, or to keep any kind of a servant to look after them; and
+when I'm away, if I let them run about these stairs and entries, or
+go into the sheets, they do get a little exercise and air, to be
+sure, such as it is on which account I do let them out sometimes;
+but then a deal of mischief comes of that, too:  they learn all
+kinds of wickedness, and would grow up to be no better than
+pickpockets, if they were let often to consort with the little
+vagabonds they find in the streets.  So what to do better for them
+I don't know."
+
+The poor mother sat down upon the fallen press, looked at Victoire,
+and wept bitterly.  Madame de Fleury was struck with compassion;
+but she did not satisfy her feelings merely by words or comfort or
+by the easy donation of some money--she resolved to do something
+more, and something better.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+
+"Come often, then; for haply in my bower
+Amusement, knowledge, wisdom, thou may'st gain:
+If I one soul improve, I have not lived in vain."--BEATTIE.
+
+It is not so easy to do good as those who have never attempted it
+may imagine; and they who without consideration follow the mere
+instinct of pity, often by their imprudent generosity create evils
+more pernicious to society than any which they partially remedy.
+"Warm Charity, the general friend," may become the general enemy,
+unless she consults her head as well as her heart.  Whilst she
+pleases herself with the idea that she daily feeds hundreds of the
+poor, she is perhaps preparing want and famine for thousands.
+Whilst she delights herself with the anticipation of gratitude for
+her bounties, she is often exciting only unreasonable expectations,
+inducing habits of dependence and submission to slavery.
+
+Those who wish to do good should attend to experience, from whom
+they may receive lessons upon the largest scale that time and
+numbers can afford.
+
+Madame de Fleury was aware that neither a benevolent disposition
+nor a large fortune were sufficient to enable her to be of real
+service, without the constant exercise of her judgment.  She had,
+therefore, listened with deference to the conversation of well-
+informed men upon those subjects on which ladies have not always
+the means or the wish to acquire extensive and accurate knowledge.
+Though a Parisian belle, she had read with attention some of those
+books which are generally thought too dry or too deep for her sex.
+Consequently, her benevolence was neither wild in theory nor
+precipitate nor ostentatious in practice.
+
+Touched with compassion for a little girl whose arm had been
+accidentally broken, and shocked by the discovery of the
+confinement and the dangers to which numbers of children in Paris
+were doomed, she did not make a parade of her sensibility.  She did
+not talk of her feelings in fine sentences to a circle of opulent
+admirers, nor did she project for the relief of the little
+sufferers some magnificent establishment which she could not
+execute or superintend.  She was contented with attempting only
+what she had reasonable hopes of accomplishing.
+
+The gift of education she believed to be more advantageous than the
+gift of money to the poor, as it ensures the means both of future
+subsistence and happiness.  But the application even of this
+incontrovertible principle requires caution and judgment.  To crowd
+numbers of children into a place called a school, to abandon them
+to the management of any person called a schoolmaster or a
+schoolmistress, is not sufficient to secure the blessings of a good
+education.  Madame de Fleury was sensible that the greatest care is
+necessary in the choice of the person to whom young children are to
+be entrusted; she knew that only a certain number can be properly
+directed by one superintendent, and that, by attempting to do too
+much, she might do nothing, or worse than nothing.  Her school was
+formed, therefore, on a small scale, which she could enlarge to any
+extent, if it should be found to succeed.  From some of the
+families of poor people, who, in earning their bread, are obliged
+to spend most of the day from home, she selected twelve little
+girls, of whom Victoire was the eldest, and she was between six and
+seven.
+
+The person under whose care Madame de Fleury wished to place these
+children was a nun of the Soeurs de la Charite, with whose
+simplicity of character, benevolence, and mild, steady temper she
+was thoroughly acquainted.  Sister Frances was delighted with the
+plan.  Any scheme that promised to be of service to her follow-
+creatures was sure of meeting with her approbation; but this suited
+her taste peculiarly, because she was extremely fond of children.
+No young person had ever boarded six months at her convent without
+becoming attached to good Sister Frances.
+
+The period of which we are writing was some years before convents
+were abolished; but the strictness of their rules had in many
+instances been considerably relaxed.  Without much difficulty,
+permission was obtained from the abbess for our nun to devote her
+time during the day to the care of these poor children, upon
+condition that she should regularly return to her convent every
+night before evening prayers.  The house which Madame de Fleury
+chose for her little school was in an airy part of the town; it did
+not face the street, but was separated from other buildings at the
+back of a court, retired from noise and bustle.  The two rooms
+intended for the occupation of the children were neat and clean,
+but perfectly simple, with whitewashed walls, furnished only with
+wooden stools and benches, and plain deal tables.  The kitchen was
+well lighted (for light is essential to cleanliness), and it was
+provided with utensils; and for these appropriate places were
+allotted, to give the habit and the taste of order.  The schoolroom
+opened into a garden larger than is usually seen in towns.  The
+nun, who had been accustomed to purchase provisions for her
+convent, undertook to prepare daily for the children breakfast and
+dinner; they were to sup and sleep at their respective homes.
+Their parents were to take them to Sister Frances every morning
+when they went out to work, and to call for them upon their return
+home every evening.  By this arrangement, the natural ties of
+affection and intimacy between the children and their parents would
+not be loosened; they would be separate only at the time when their
+absence must be inevitable.  Madame de Fleury thought that any
+education which estranges children entirely from their parents must
+be fundamentally erroneous; that such a separation must tend to
+destroy that sense of filial affection and duty, and those
+principles of domestic subordination, on which so many of the
+interests and much of the virtue and happiness of society depend.
+The parents of these poor children were eager to trust them to her
+care, and they strenuously endeavoured to promote what they
+perceived to be entirely to their advantage.  They promised to take
+their daughters to school punctually every morning--a promise which
+was likely to be kept, as a good breakfast was to be ready at a
+certain hour, and not to wait for anybody.  The parents looked
+forward with pleasure, also, to the idea of calling for their
+little girls at the end of their day's labour, and of taking them
+home to their family supper.  During the intermediate hours the
+children were constantly to be employed, or in exercise.  It was
+difficult to provide suitable employments for their early age; but
+even the youngest of those admitted could be taught to wind balls
+of cotton, thread, and silk for haberdashers; or they could shell
+peas and beans, &c., for a neighbouring traiteur; or they could
+weed in a garden.  The next in age could learn knitting and plain
+work, reading, writing, and arithmetic.  As the girls should grow
+up, they were to be made useful in the care of the house.  Sister
+Frances said she could teach them to wash and iron, and that she
+would make them as skilful in cookery as she was herself.  This
+last was doubtless a rash promise; for in most of the mysteries of
+the culinary art, especially in the medical branches of it, in
+making savoury messes palatable to the sick, few could hope to
+equal the neat-handed Sister Frances.  She had a variety of other
+accomplishments; but her humility and good sense forbade her upon
+the present occasion to mention these.  She said nothing of
+embroidery, or of painting, or of cutting out paper, or of carving
+in ivory, though in all these she excelled:  her cuttings-out in
+paper were exquisite as the finest lace; her embroidered
+housewives, and her painted boxes, and her fan-mounts, and her
+curiously-wrought ivory toys, had obtained for her the highest
+reputation in the convent amongst the best judges in the world.
+Those only who have philosophically studied and thoroughly
+understand the nature of fame and vanity can justly appreciate the
+self-denial or magnanimity of Sister Frances, in forbearing to
+enumerate or boast of these things.  She alluded to them but once,
+and in the slightest and most humble manner.
+
+"These little creatures are too young for us to think of teaching
+them anything but plain work at present; but if hereafter any of
+them should show a superior genius we can cultivate it properly.
+Heaven has been pleased to endow me with the means--at least, our
+convent says so."
+
+The actions of Sister Frances showed as much moderation as her
+words; for though she was strongly tempted to adorn her new
+dwelling with those specimens of her skill which had long been the
+glory of her apartment in the convent, yet she resisted the
+impulse, and contented herself with hanging over the chimney-piece
+of her schoolroom a Madonna of her own painting.
+
+The day arrived when she was to receive her pupils in their new
+habitation.  When the children entered the room for the first time,
+they paid the Madonna the homage of their unfeigned admiration.
+Involuntarily the little crowd stopped short at the sight of the
+picture.  Some dormant emotions of human vanity were now awakened--
+played for a moment about the heart of Sister Frances--and may be
+forgiven.  Her vanity was innocent and transient, her benevolence
+permanent and useful.  Repressing the vain-glory of an artist, as
+she fixed her eyes upon the Madonna, her thoughts rose to higher
+objects, and she seized this happy moment to impress upon the minds
+of her young pupils their first religious ideas and feelings.
+There was such unaffected piety in her manner, such goodness in her
+countenance, such persuasion in her voice, and simplicity in her
+words, that the impression she made was at once serious, pleasing,
+and not to be effaced.  Much depends upon the moment and the manner
+in which the first notions of religion are communicated to
+children; if these ideas be connected with terror, and produced
+when the mind is sullen or in a state of dejection, the future
+religious feelings are sometimes of a gloomy, dispiriting sort; but
+if the first impression be made when the heart is expanded by hope
+or touched by affection, these emotions are happily and permanently
+associated with religion.  This should be particularly attended to
+by those who undertake the instruction of the children of the poor,
+who must lead a life of labour, and can seldom have leisure or
+inclination, when arrived at years of discretion, to re-examine the
+principles early infused into their minds.  They cannot in their
+riper age conquer by reason those superstitions terrors, or bigoted
+prejudices, which render their victims miserable, or perhaps
+criminal.  To attempt to rectify any errors in the foundation after
+an edifice has been constructed is dangerous:  the foundation,
+therefore, should be laid with care.  The religious opinions of
+Sister Frances were strictly united with just rules of morality,
+strongly enforcing, as the essential means of obtaining present and
+future happiness, the practice of the social virtues, so that no
+good or wise persons, however they might differ from her in modes
+of faith, could doubt the beneficial influence of her general
+principles, or disapprove of the manner in which they were
+inculcated.
+
+Detached from every other worldly interest, this benevolent nun
+devoted all her earthly thoughts to the children of whom she had
+undertaken the charge.  She watched over them with unceasing
+vigilance, whilst diffidence of her own abilities was happily
+supported by her high opinion of Madame de Fleury's judgment.  This
+lady constantly visited her pupils every week; not in the hasty,
+negligent manner in which fine ladies sometimes visit charitable
+institutions, imagining that the honour of their presence is to
+work miracles, and that everything will go on rightly when they
+have said, "LET IT BE SO," or, "I MUST HAVE IT SO."  Madame de
+Fleury's visits were not of this dictatorial or cursory nature.
+Not minutes, but hours, she devoted to these children--she who
+could charm by the grace of her manners, and delight by the
+elegance of her conversation, the most polished circles and the
+best-informed societies of Paris, preferred to the glory of being
+admired the pleasure of being useful:-
+
+"Her life, as lovely as her face,
+Each duty mark'd with every grace;
+Her native sense improved by reading,
+Her native sweetness by good breeding."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+
+"Ah me! how much I fear lest pride it be;
+But if that pride it be which thus inspires,
+Beware, ye dames! with nice discernment see
+Ye quench not too the sparks of nobler fires."
+SHENSTONE.
+
+By repeated observation, and by attending to the minute reports of
+Sister Frances, Madame de Fleury soon became acquainted with the
+habits and temper of each individual in this little society.  The
+most intelligent and the most amiable of these children was
+Victoire.  Whence her superiority arose, whether her abilities were
+naturally more vivacious than those of her companions, or whether
+they had been more early developed by accidental excitation, we
+cannot pretend to determine, lest we should involve ourselves in
+the intricate question respecting natural genius--a metaphysical
+point, which we shall not in this place stop to discuss.  Till the
+world has an accurate philosophical dictionary (a work not to be
+expected in less than half a dozen centuries), this question will
+never be decided to general satisfaction.  In the meantime we may
+proceed with our story.
+
+Deep was the impression made on Victoire's heart by the kindness
+that Madame de Fleury showed her at the time her arm was broken;
+and her gratitude was expressed with all the enthusiastic fondness
+of childhood.  Whenever she spoke or heard of Madame de Fleury her
+countenance became interested and animated in a degree that would
+have astonished a cool English spectator.  Every morning her first
+question to Sister Frances was:  "Will SHE come to-day?"  If Madame
+de Fleury was expected, the hours and the minutes were counted, and
+the sand in the hour-glass that stood on the schoolroom table was
+frequently shaken.  The moment she appeared Victoire ran to her,
+and was silent; satisfied with standing close beside her, holding
+her gown when unperceived, and watching, as she spoke and moved,
+every turn of her countenance.  Delighted by these marks of
+sensibility, Sister Frances would have praised the child, but was
+warned by Madame de Fleury to refrain from injudicious eulogiums,
+lest she should teach her affectation.
+
+"If I must not praise, you will permit me at least to love her,"
+said Sister Frances.
+
+Her affection for Victoire was increased by compassion:  during two
+months the poor child's arm hung in a sling, so that she could not
+venture to play with her companions.  At their hours of recreation
+she used to sit on the schoolroom steps, looking down into the
+garden at the scene of merriment in which she could not partake.
+
+For those who know how to find it, there is good in everything.
+Sister Frances used to take her seat on the steps, sometimes with
+her work and sometimes with a book; and Victoire, tired of being
+quite idle, listened with eagerness to the stories which Sister
+Frances read, or watched with interest the progress of her work;
+soon she longed to imitate what she saw done with so much pleasure,
+and begged to be taught to work and read.  By degrees she learned
+her alphabet, and could soon, to the amazement of her
+schoolfellows, read the names of all the animals in Sister Frances'
+picture-book.  No matter how trifling the thing done, or the
+knowledge acquired, a great point is gained by giving the desire
+for employment.  Children frequently become industrious from
+impatience of the pains and penalties of idleness.  Count Rumford
+showed that he understood childish nature perfectly well when, in
+his House of Industry at Munich, he compelled the young children to
+sit for some time idle in a gallery round the hall, where others a
+little older than themselves were busied at work.  During
+Victoire's state of idle convalescence she acquired the desire to
+be employed, and she consequently soon became more industrious than
+her neighbours.  Succeeding in her first efforts, she was praised--
+was pleased, and persevered till she became an example of activity
+to her companions.  But Victoire, though now nearly seven years
+old, was not quite perfect.  Naturally, or accidentally, she was
+very passionate, and not a little self-willed.
+
+One day being mounted, horsemanlike, with whip in hand, upon the
+banister of the flight of stairs leading from the schoolroom to the
+garden, she called in a tone of triumph to her playfellows,
+desiring them to stand out of the way, and see her slide from top
+to bottom.  At this moment Sister Frances came to the schoolroom
+door and forbade the feat; but Victoire, regardless of all
+prohibition, slid down instantly, and moreover was going to repeat
+the glorious operation, when Sister Frances, catching hold of her
+arm, pointed to a heap of sharp stones that lay on the ground upon
+the other side of the banisters.
+
+"I am not afraid," said Victoire.
+
+"But if you fall there, you may break your arm again."
+
+"And if I do, I can bear it," said Victoire.  "Let me go, pray let
+me go:  I must do it."
+
+"No; I forbid you, Victoire, to slide down again.  Babet and all
+the little ones would follow your example, and perhaps break their
+necks."
+
+The nun, as she spoke, attempted to compel Victoire to dismount;
+but she was so much of a heroine, that she would do nothing upon
+compulsion.  Clinging fast to the banisters, she resisted with all
+her might; she kicked and screamed, and screamed and kicked, but at
+last her feet were taken prisoners; then grasping the railway with
+one hand, with the other she brandished high the little whip.
+
+"What!" said the mild nun, "would you strike me with that ARM?"
+
+The arm dropped instantly--Victoire recollected Madame de Fleury's
+kindness the day when the arm was broken; dismounting immediately,
+she threw herself upon her knees in the midst of the crowd of young
+spectators, and begged pardon of Sister Frances.  For the rest of
+the day she was as gentle as a lamb; nay, some assert that the
+effects of her contrition were visible during the remainder of the
+week.
+
+Having thus found the secret of reducing the little rebel to
+obedience by touching her on the tender point of gratitude, the nun
+had recourse to this expedient in all perilous cases; but one day,
+when she was boasting of the infallible operation of her charm,
+Madame de Fleury advised her to forbear recurring to it frequently,
+lest she should wear out the sensibility she so much loved.  In
+consequence of this counsel, Victoire's violence of temper was
+sometimes reduced by force and sometimes corrected by reason; but
+the principle and the feeling of gratitude were not exhausted or
+weakened in the struggle.  The hope of reward operated upon her
+generous mind more powerfully than the fear of punishment; and
+Madame de Fleury devised rewards with as much ability as some
+legislators invent punishments.
+
+Victoire's brother Maurice, who was now of an age to earn his own
+bread, had a strong desire to be bound apprentice to the smith who
+worked in the house where his mother lodged.  This most ardent wish
+of his soul he had imparted to his sister; and she consulted her
+benefactress, whom she considered as all-powerful in this, as in
+every other affair.
+
+"Your brother's wish shall be gratified," replied Madame de Fleury,
+"if you can keep your temper one month.  If you are never in a
+passion for a whole month, I will undertake that your brother shall
+be bound apprentice to his friend the smith.  To your companions,
+to Sister Frances, and above all to yourself, I trust, to make me a
+just report this day month."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+
+"You she preferred to all the gay resorts,
+Where female vanity might wish to shine,
+The pomp of cities, and the pride of courts."
+LYTTELTON.
+
+At the end of the time prescribed, the judges, including Victoire
+herself, who was the most severe of them all, agreed she had justly
+deserved her reward.  Maurice obtained his wish; and Victoire's
+temper never relapsed into its former bad habits--so powerful is
+the effect of a well-chosen motive!  Perhaps the historian may be
+blamed for dwelling on such trivial anecdotes; yet a lady, who was
+accustomed to the conversation of deep philosophers and polished
+courtiers, listened without disdain to these simple annals.
+Nothing appeared to her a trifle that could tend to form the habits
+of temper, truth, honesty, order, and industry:  habits which are
+to be early induced, not by solemn precepts, but by practical
+lessons.  A few more examples of these shall be recorded,
+notwithstanding the fear of being tiresome.
+
+One day little Babet, who was now five years old, saw, as she was
+coming to school, an old woman sitting at a corner of the street
+beside a large black brazier full of roasted chestnuts.  Babet
+thought that the chestnuts looked and smelled very good; the old
+woman was talking earnestly to some people, who were on her other
+side; Babet filled her work-bag with chestnuts, and then ran after
+her mother and sister, who, having turned the corner of the street,
+had not seen what passed.  When Babet came to the schoolroom, she
+opened her bag with triumph, displayed her treasure, and offered to
+divide it with her companions.  "Here, Victoire," said she, "here
+is the largest chestnut for you."
+
+But Victoire would not take it; for she staid that Babet had no
+money, and that she could not have come honestly by these
+chestnuts.  She spoke so forcibly upon this point that even those
+who had the tempting morsel actually at their lips forbore to bite;
+those who had bitten laid down their half-eaten prize; and those
+who had their hands full of chestnuts rolled them back again
+towards the bag.  Babet cried with vexation.
+
+"I burned my fingers in getting them for you, and now you won't eat
+them!--And I must not eat them!" said she:  then curbing her
+passion, she added, "But at any rate, I won't be a thief.  I am
+sure I did not think it was being a thief just to take a few
+chestnuts from an old woman who had such heaps and heaps; but
+Victoire says it is wrong, and I would not be a thief for all the
+chestnuts in the world--I'll throw them all into the fire this
+minute!"
+
+"No; give them back again to the old woman," said Victoire.
+
+"But, may be, she would scold me for having taken them," said
+Babet; "or who knows but she might whip me?"
+
+"And if she did, could you not bear it?" said Victoire.  "I am sure
+I would rather bear twenty whippings than be a thief."
+
+"Twenty, whippings! that's a great many," said Babet; "and I am so
+little, consider--and that woman has such a monstrous arm!--Now, if
+it was Sister Frances, it would be another thing.  But come! if you
+will go with me, Victoire, you shall see how I will behave."
+
+"We will all go with you," said Victoire.
+
+"Yes, all!" said the children; "And Sister Frances, I dare say,
+would go, if you asked her."
+
+Babet ran and told her, and she readily consented to accompany the
+little penitent to make restitution.  The chestnut woman did not
+whip Babet, nor even scold her, but said she was sure that since
+the child was so honest as to return what she had taken, she would
+never steal again.  This was the most glorious day of Babet's life,
+and the happiest.  When the circumstance was told to Madame de
+Fleury, she gave the little girl a bag of the best chestnuts the
+old women could select, and Babet with great delight shared her
+reward with her companions.
+
+"But, alas! these chestnuts are not roasted.  Oh, if we could but
+roast them!" said the children.
+
+Sister Frances placed in the middle of the table on which the
+chestnuts were spread a small earthenware furnace--a delightful
+toy, commonly used by children in Paris to cook their little
+feasts.
+
+"This can be bought for sixpence," said she:  "and if each of you
+twelve earn one halfpenny apiece to-day, you can purchase it
+tonight, and I will put a little fire into it, and you will then be
+able to roast your chestnuts."
+
+The children ran eagerly to their work--some to wind worsted for a
+woman who paid them a liard for each ball, others to shell peas for
+a neighbouring traiteur--all rejoicing that they were able to earn
+something.  The older girls, under the directions and with the
+assistance of Sister Frances, completed making, washing, and
+ironing, half a dozen little caps, to supply a baby-linen
+warehouse.  At the end of the day, when the sum of the produce of
+their labours was added together, they were surprised to find that,
+instead of one, they could purchase two furnaces.  They received
+and enjoyed the reward of their united industry.  The success of
+their first efforts was fixed in their memory:  for they were very
+happy roasting the chestnuts, and they were all (Sister Frances
+inclusive) unanimous in opinion that no chestnuts ever were so
+good, or so well roasted.  Sister Frances always partook in their
+little innocent amusements; and it was her great delight to be the
+dispenser of rewards which at once conferred present pleasure and
+cherished future virtue.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+
+"To virtue wake the pulses of the heart,
+And bid the tear of emulation start."
+ROGERS.
+
+Victoire, who gave constant exercise to the benevolent feelings of
+the amiable nun, became every day more dear to her.  Far from
+having the selfishness of a favourite, Victoire loved to bring into
+public notice the good actions of her companions.  "Stoop down your
+ear to me, Sister Frances," said she, "and I will tell you a
+secret--I will tell you why my friend Annette is growing so thin--I
+found it out this morning--she does not eat above half her soup
+every day.  Look, there's her porringer covered up in the corner--
+she carries it home to her mother, who is sick, and who has not
+bread to eat."
+
+Madame de Fleury came in whilst Sister Frances was yet bending down
+to hear this secret; it was repeated to her, and she immediately
+ordered that a certain allowance of bread should be given to
+Annette every day to carry to her mother during her illness.
+
+"I give it in charge to you, Victoire, to remember this, and I am
+sure it will never be forgotten.  Here is an order for you upon my
+baker:  run and show it to Annette.  This is a pleasure you
+deserve; I am glad that you have chosen for your friend a girl who
+is so good a daughter.  Good daughters make good friends."
+
+By similar instances of goodness Victoire obtained the love and
+confidence of her companions, notwithstanding her manifest
+superiority.  In their turn, they were eager to proclaim her
+merits; and, as Sister Frances and Madame de Fleury administered
+justice with invariable impartiality, the hateful passions of envy
+and jealousy were never excited in this little society.  No servile
+sycophant, no malicious detractor, could rob or defraud their
+little virtues of their due reward.
+
+"Whom shall I trust to take this to Madame de Fleury?" said Sister
+Frances, carrying into the garden where the children were playing a
+pot of fine jonquils, which she had brought from her convent.--
+"These are the first jonquils I have seen this year, and finer I
+never beheld!  Whom shall I trust to take them to Madame de Fleury
+this evening?--It must be some one who will not stop to stare about
+on the way, but who will be very, very careful--some one in whom I
+can place perfect dependence."
+
+"It must be Victoire, then," cried every voice.
+
+"Yes, she deserves it to-day particularly," said Annette eagerly;
+"because she was not angry with Babet when she did what was enough
+to put anybody in a passion.  Sister Frances, you know this cherry-
+tree which you grafted for Victoire last year, and that was
+yesterday so full of blossoms--now you see, there is not a blossom
+left!--Babet plucked them all this morning to make a nosegay."
+
+"But she did not know," said Victoire, "that pulling off the
+blossoms would prevent my having any cherries."
+
+"Oh, I am very sorry I was so foolish," said Babet; "Victoire did
+not even say a cross word to me."
+
+"Though she was excessively anxious about the cherries," pursued
+Annette, "because she intended to have given the first she had to
+Madame de Fleury."
+
+"Victoire, take the jonquils--it is but just," said Sister Frances.
+"How I do love to hear them all praise her!--I knew what she would
+be from the first."
+
+With a joyful heart Victoire took the jonquils, promised to carry
+them with the utmost care, and not to stop to stare on the way.
+She set out to Madame de Fleury's hotel, which was in La Place de
+Louis Quinze.  It was late in the evening, the lamps were lighting,
+and as Victoire crossed the Pont de Louis Seize, she stopped to
+look at the reflection of the lamps in the water, which appeared in
+succession, as they were lighted, spreading as if by magic along
+the river.  While Victoire leaned over the battlements of the
+bridge, watching the rising of these stars of fire, a sudden push
+from the elbow of some rude passenger precipitated her pot of
+jonquils into the Seine.  The sound it made in the water was
+thunder to the ear of Victoire; she stood for an instant vainly
+hoping it would rise again, but the waters had closed over it for
+ever.
+
+
+"Dans cet etat affreux, que faire?
+. . . Mon devoir."
+
+
+Victoire courageously proceeded to Madame de Fleury's, and desired
+to see her.
+
+"D'abord c'est impossible--madame is dressing to go to a concert,"
+said Francois.  "Cannot you leave your message?"
+
+"Oh no," said Victoire; "it is of great consequence--I must see her
+myself; and she is so good, and you too, Monsieur Francois, that I
+am sure you will not refuse."
+
+"Well, I remember one day you found the seal of my watch, which I
+dropped at your school-room door--one good turn deserves another.
+If it is possible it shall be done--I will inquire of madame's
+woman."--"Follow me upstairs," said he, returning in a few minutes;
+"madame will see you."
+
+She followed him up the large staircase, and through a suite of
+apartments sufficiently grand to intimidate her young imagination.
+
+"Madame est dans son cabinet.  Entrez--mais entrez donc, entrez
+toujours."
+
+Madame de Fleury was more richly dressed than usual; and her image
+was reflected in the large looking-glass, so that at the first
+moment Victoire thought she saw many fine ladies, but not one of
+them the lady she wanted.
+
+"Well, Victoire, my child, what is the matter?"
+
+"Oh, it is her voice!--I know you now, madame, and I am not afraid-
+-not afraid even to tell you how foolish I have been.  Sister
+Frances trusted me to carry for you, madame, a beautiful pot of
+jonquils, and she desired me not to stop on the way to stare; but I
+did stop to look at the lamps on the bridge, and I forgot the
+jonquils, and somebody brushed by me and threw them into the river-
+-and I am very sorry I was so foolish."
+
+"And I am very glad that you are so wise as to tell the truth,
+without attempting to make any paltry excuses.  Go home to Sister
+Frances, and assure her that I am more obliged to her for making
+you such an honest girl than I could be for a whole bed of
+jonquils."
+
+Victoire's heart was so full that she could not speak--she kissed
+Madame de Fleury's hand in silence, and then seemed to be lost in
+contemplation of her bracelet.
+
+"Are you thinking, Victoire, that you should be much happier if you
+had such bracelets as these?  Believe me, you are mistaken if you
+think so; many people are unhappy who wear fine bracelets; so, my
+child, content yourself."
+
+"Myself!  Oh, madame, I was not thinking of myself--I was not
+wishing for bracelets; I was only thinking that--"
+
+"That what?"
+
+"That it is a pity you are so very rich; you have everything in
+this world that you want, and I can never be of the least use to
+YOU--all my life I shall never be able to do YOU any good--and
+what," said Victoire, turning away to hide her tears, "what
+signifies the gratitude of such a poor little creature as I am?"
+
+"Did you never hear the fable of the lion and the mouse, Victoire?"
+
+"No, madame--never!"
+
+"Then I will tell it to you."
+
+Victoire looked up with eyes of eager expectation--Francois opened
+the door to announce that the Marquis de M- and the Comte de S-
+were in the saloon; but Madame de Fleury stayed to tell Victoire
+her fable--she would not lose the opportunity of making an
+impression upon this child's heart.
+
+It is whilst the mind is warm that the deepest impressions can be
+made.  Seizing the happy moment sometimes decides the character and
+the fate of a child.  In this respect, what advantages have the
+rich and great in educating the children of the poor! they have the
+power which their rank and all its decorations obtain over the
+imagination.  Their smiles are favours; their words are listened to
+as oracular; they are looked up to as beings of a superior order.
+Their powers of working good are almost as great, though not quite
+so wonderful, as those formerly attributed to beneficent, fairies.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+
+"Knowledge for them unlocks her USEFUL page,
+And virtue blossoms for a better age."--BARBAULD.
+
+A few days after Madame de Fleury had told Victoire the fable of
+the lion and the mouse, she was informed by Sister Frances that
+Victoire had put the fable into verse.  It was wonderfully well
+done for a child of nine years old, and Madame de Fleury was
+tempted to praise the lines; but, checking the enthusiasm of the
+moment, she considered whether it would be advantageous to
+cultivate her pupil's talent for poetry.  Excellence in the poetic
+art cannot be obtained without a degree of application for which a
+girl in her situation could not have leisure.  To encourage her to
+become a mere rhyming scribbler, without any chance of obtaining
+celebrity or securing subsistence, would be folly and cruelty.
+Early prodigies in the lower ranks of life are seldom permanently
+successful; they are cried up one day, and cried down the next.
+Their productions rarely have that superiority which secures a fair
+preference in the great literary market.  Their performances are,
+perhaps, said to be WONDERFUL, ALL THINGS CONSIDERED, &C.
+Charitable allowances are made; the books are purchased by
+associations of complaisant friends or opulent patrons; a kind of
+forced demand is raised, but this can be only temporary and
+delusive.  In spite of bounties and of all the arts of protection,
+nothing but what is intrinsically good will long be preferred, when
+it must be purchased.  But granting that positive excellence is
+attained, there is always danger that for works of fancy the taste
+of the public may suddenly vary:  there is a fashion in these
+things; and when the mode changes, the mere literary manufacturer
+is thrown out of employment; he is unable to turn his hand to
+another trade, or to any but his own peculiar branch of the
+business.  The powers of the mind are often partially cultivated in
+these self-taught geniuses.  We often see that one part of their
+understanding is nourished to the prejudice of the rest--the
+imagination, for instance, at the expense of the judgment:  so that
+whilst they have acquired talents for show they have none for use.
+In the affairs of common life they are utterly ignorant and
+imbecile--or worse than imbecile.  Early called into public notice,
+probably before their moral habits are formed, they are extolled
+for some play of fancy or of wit, as Bacon calls it, some juggler's
+trick of the intellect; they immediately take an aversion to
+plodding labour, they feel raised above their situation; possessed
+by the notion that genius exempts them not only from labour, but
+from vulgar rules of prudence, they soon disgrace themselves by
+their conduct, are deserted by their patrons, and sink into despair
+or plunge into profligacy.
+
+Convinced of these melancholy truths, Madame de Fleury was
+determined not to add to the number of those imprudent or
+ostentatious patrons, who sacrifice to their own amusement and
+vanity the future happiness of their favourites.  Victoire's verses
+were not handed about in fashionable circles, nor was she called
+upon to recite them before a brilliant audience, nor was she
+produced in public as a prodigy; she was educated in private, and
+by slow and sure degrees, to be a good, useful, and happy member of
+society.  Upon the same principles which decided Madame de Fleury
+against encouraging Victoire to be a poetess, she refrained from
+giving any of her little pupils accomplishments unsuited to their
+situation.  Some had a fine ear for music, others showed powers of
+dancing; but they were taught neither dancing nor music--talents
+which in their station were more likely to be dangerous than
+serviceable.  They were not intended for actresses or opera-girls,
+but for shop-girls, mantua-makers, work-women, and servants of
+different sorts; consequently they were instructed in things which
+would be most necessary and useful to young women in their rank of
+life.  Before they were ten years old they could do all kinds of
+plain needlework, they could read and write well, and they were
+mistresses of the common rules of arithmetic.  After this age they
+were practised by a writing-master in drawing out bills neatly,
+keeping accounts, and applying to every-day use their knowledge of
+arithmetic.  Some were taught by a laundress to wash and get up
+fine linen and lace; others were instructed by a neighbouring
+traiteur in those culinary mysteries with which Sister Frances was
+unacquainted.  In sweetmeats and confectioneries she yielded to no
+one; and she made her pupils as expert as herself.  Those who were
+intended for ladies' maids were taught mantua-making, and had
+lessons from Madame de Fleury's own woman in hairdressing.
+
+Amongst her numerous friends and acquaintances, and amongst the
+shopkeepers whom she was in the habit of employing, Madame de
+Fleury had means of placing and establishing her pupils suitably
+and advantageously:  of this, both they and their parents were
+aware, so that there was a constant and great motive operating
+continually to induce them to exert themselves, and to behave well.
+This reasonable hope of reaping the fruits of their education, and
+of being immediately rewarded for their good conduct; this
+perception of the connection between what they are taught and what
+they are to become, is necessary to make young people assiduous;
+for want of attending to these principles many splendid
+establishments have failed to produce pupils answerable to the
+expectations which had been formed of them.
+
+During seven years that Madame de Fleury persevered uniformly on
+the same plan, only one girl forfeited her protection--a girl of
+the name of Manon; she was Victoire's cousin, but totally unlike
+her in character.
+
+When very young, her beautiful eyes and hair caught the fancy of a
+rich lady, who took her into her family as a sort of humble
+playfellow for her children.  She was taught to dance and to sing:
+she soon excelled in these accomplishments, and was admired, and
+produced as a prodigy of talent.  The lady of the house gave
+herself great credit for having discerned, and having brought
+forward, such talents.  Manon's moral character was in the meantime
+neglected.  In this house, where there was a constant scene of
+hurry and dissipation, the child had frequent opportunities and
+temptations to be dishonest.  For some time she was not detected;
+her caressing manners pleased her patroness, and servile compliance
+with the humours of the children of the family secured their
+goodwill.  Encouraged by daily petty successes in the art of
+deceit, she became a complete hypocrite.  With culpable negligence,
+her mistress trusted implicitly to appearances; and without
+examining whether she were really honest, she suffered her to have
+free access to unlocked drawers and valuable cabinets.  Several
+articles of dress were missed from time to time; but Manon managed
+so artfully, that she averted from herself all suspicion.
+Emboldened by this fatal impunity, she at last attempted
+depredations of more importance.  She purloined a valuable snuff-
+box--was detected in disposing of the broken parts of it at a
+pawnbroker's, and was immediately discarded in disgrace; but by her
+tears and vehement expressions of remorse she so far worked upon
+the weakness of the lady of the house as to prevail upon her to
+conceal the circumstance that occasioned her dismissal.  Some
+months afterwards, Manon, pleading that she was thoroughly
+reformed, obtained from this lady a recommendation to Madame de
+Fleury's school.  It is wonderful that, people, who in other
+respects profess and practise integrity, can be so culpably weak as
+to give good characters to those who do not deserve them:  this is
+really one of the worst species of forgery.  Imposed upon by this
+treacherous recommendation, Madame de Fleury received into the
+midst of her innocent young pupils one who might have corrupted
+their minds secretly and irrecoverably.  Fortunately a discovery
+was made in time of Manon's real disposition.  A mere trifle led to
+the detection of her habits of falsehood.  As she could not do any
+kind of needlework, she was employed in winding cotton; she was
+negligent, and did not in the course of the week wind the same
+number of balls as her companions; and to conceal this, she
+pretended that she had delivered the proper number to the woman,
+who regularly called at the end of the week for the cotton.  The
+woman persisted in her account, and the children in theirs; and
+Manon would not retract her assertion.  The poor woman gave up the
+point; but she declared that she would the next time send her
+brother to make up the account, because he was sharper than
+herself, and would not be imposed upon so easily.  The ensuing week
+the brother came, and he proved to be the very pawnbroker to whom
+Manon formerly offered the stolen box:  he knew her immediately; it
+was in vain that she attempted to puzzle him, and to persuade him
+that she was not the same person.  The man was clear and firm.
+Sister Frances could scarcely believe what she heard.  Struck with
+horror, the children shrank back from Manon, and stood in silence.
+Madame de Fleury immediately wrote to the lady who had recommended
+this girl, and inquired into the truth of the pawnbroker's
+assertions.  The lady, who had given Manon a false character, could
+not deny the facts, and could apologise for herself only by saying
+that "she believed the girl to be partly reformed, and that she
+hoped, under Madame de Fleury's judicious care, she would become an
+amiable and respectable woman."
+
+Madame de Fleury, however, wisely judged that the hazard of
+corrupting all her pupils should not be incurred for the slight
+chance of correcting one, whose bad habits wore of such long
+standing.  Manon was expelled from this happy little community--
+even Sister Frances, the most mild of human beings, could never
+think of the danger to which they had been exposed without
+expressing indignation against the lady who recommended such a girl
+as a fit companion for her blameless and beloved pupils.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+
+"Alas! regardless of their doom,
+The little victims play:
+No sense have they of ills to come,
+No care beyond to-day."--GRAY.
+
+Good legislators always attend to the habits, and what is called
+the genius, of the people they have to govern.  From youth to age,
+the taste for whatever is called une fete pervades the whole French
+nation.  Madame de Fleury availed herself judiciously of this
+powerful motive, and connected it with the feelings of affection
+more than with the passion for show.  For instance, when any of her
+little people had done anything particularly worthy of reward, she
+gave them leave to invite their parents to a fete prepared for them
+by their children, assisted by the kindness of Sister Frances.
+
+One day--it was a holiday obtained by Victoire's good conduct--all
+the children prepared in their garden a little feast for their
+parents.  Sister Frances spread the table with a bountiful hand,
+the happy fathers and mothers were waited upon by their children,
+and each in their turn heard with delight from the benevolent nun
+some instance of their daughter's improvement.  Full of hope for
+the future and of gratitude for the past, these honest people ate
+and talked, whilst in imagination they saw their children all
+prosperously and usefully settled in the world.  They blessed
+Madame de Fleury in her absence, and they wished ardently for her
+presence.
+
+"The sun is setting, and Madame de Fleury is not yet come," cried
+Victoire; "she said she would be here this evening--What can be the
+matter?"
+
+"Nothing is the matter, you may be sure," said Babet; "but that she
+has forgotten us--she has so many things to think of."
+
+"Yes; but I know she never forgets us," said Victoire; "and she
+loves so much to see us all happy together, that I am sure it must
+be something very extraordinary that detains her."
+
+Babet laughed at Victoire's fears; but presently even she began to
+grow impatient; for they waited long after sunset, expecting every
+moment that Madame de Fleury would arrive.  At last she appeared,
+but with a dejected countenance, which seemed to justify Victoire's
+foreboding.  When she saw this festive company, each child sitting
+between her parents, and all at her entrance looking up with
+affectionate pleasure, a faint smile enlivened her countenance for
+a moment; but she did not speak to them with her usual ease.  Her
+mind seemed preoccupied by some disagreeable business of
+importance.  It appeared that it had some connection with them; for
+as she walked round the table with Sister Frances, she said, with a
+voice and look of great tenderness, "Poor children! how happy they
+are at this moment!--Heaven only knows how soon they may be
+rendered, or may render themselves, miserable!"
+
+None of the children could imagine what this meant; but their
+parents guessed that it had some allusion to the state of public
+affairs.  About this time some of those discontents had broken out
+which preceded the terrible days of the Revolution.  As yet, most
+of the common people, who were honestly employed in earning their
+own living, neither understood what was going on nor foresaw what
+was to happen.  Many of their superiors were not in such happy
+ignorance--they had information of the intrigues that were forming;
+and the more penetration they possessed, the more they feared the
+consequences of events which they could not control.  At the house
+of a great man, with whom she had dined this day, Madame de Fleury
+had heard alarming news.  Dreadful public disturbances, she saw,
+were inevitable; and whilst she trembled for the fate of all who
+were dear to her, these poor children had a share in her anxiety.
+She foresaw the temptations, the dangers, to which they must be
+exposed, whether they abandoned, or whether they abided by the
+principles their education had instilled.  She feared that the
+labour of years would perhaps be lost in an instant, or that her
+innocent pupils would fall victims even to their virtues.
+
+Many of these young people were now of an age to understand and to
+govern themselves by reason; and with these she determined to use
+those preventive measures which reason affords.  Without meddling
+with politics, in which no amiable or sensible woman can wish to
+interfere, the influence of ladies in the higher ranks of life may
+always be exerted with perfect propriety, and with essential
+advantage to the public, in conciliating the inferior classes of
+society, explaining to them their duties and their interests, and
+impressing upon the minds of the children of the poor sentiments of
+just subordination and honest independence.  How happy would it
+have been for France if women of fortune and abilities had always
+exerted their talents and activity in this manner, instead of
+wasting their powers in futile declamations, or in the intrigues of
+party!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+
+"E'en now the devastation is begun,
+And half the business of destruction done."
+GOLDSMITH.
+
+Madame de Fleury was not disappointed in her pupils.  When the
+public disturbances began, these children were shocked by the
+horrible actions they saw.  Instead of being seduced by bad
+example, they only showed anxiety to avoid companions of their own
+age who were dishonest, idle, or profligate.  Victoire's cousin
+Manon ridiculed these absurd principles, as she called them, and
+endeavoured to persuade Victoire that she would be much happier if
+she followed the fashion.
+
+"What!  Victoire, still with your work-bag on your arm, and still
+going to school with your little sister, though you are but a year
+younger than I am, I believe!--thirteen last birthday, were not
+you?--Mon Dieu!  Why, how long do you intend to be a child? and why
+don't you leave that old nun, who keeps you in leading-strings?--I
+assure you, nuns, and school-mistresses, and schools, and all that
+sort of thing, are out of fashion now--we have abolished all that--
+we are to live a life of reason now--and all soon to be equal, I
+can tell you; let your Madame de Fleury look to that, and look to
+it yourself; for with all your wisdom, you might find yourself in
+the wrong box by sticking to her, and that side of the question.--
+Disengage yourself from her, I advise you, as soon as you can.--My
+dear Victoire! believe me, you may spell very well--but you know
+nothing of the rights of man, or the rights of woman."
+
+"I do not pretend to know anything of the rights of men, or the
+rights of women," cried Victoire; "but this I know:  that I never
+can or will be ungrateful to Madame de Fleury.  Disengage myself
+from her!  I am bound to her for ever, and I will abide by her till
+the last hour I breathe."
+
+"Well, well! there is no occasion to be in a passion--I only speak
+as a friend, and I have no more time to reason with you; for I must
+go home, and get ready my dress for the ball to-night."
+
+"Manon, how can you afford to buy a dress for a ball?"
+
+"As you might, if you had common sense, Victoire--only by being a
+good citizen.  I and a party of us denounced a milliner and a
+confectioner in our neighbourhood, who were horrible aristocrats;
+and of their goods forfeited to the nation we had, as was our just
+share, such delicious marangues and charming ribands!--Oh,
+Victoire, believe me, you will never get such things by going to
+school, or saying your prayers either.  You may look with as much
+scorn and indignation as you please, but I advise you to let it
+alone, for all that is out of fashion, and may, moreover, bring you
+into difficulties.  Believe me, my dear Victoire, your head is not
+deep enough to understand these things--you know nothing of
+politics."
+
+"But I know the difference between right and wrong, Manon:
+politics can never alter that, you know."
+
+"Never alter that! there you are quite mistaken," said Manon.  "I
+cannot stay to convince you now--but this I can tell you:  that I
+know secrets that you don't suspect."
+
+"I do not wish to know any of your secrets, Manon," said Victoire,
+proudly.
+
+"Your pride may be humbled, Citoyenne Victoire, sooner than you
+expect," exclaimed Manon, who was now so provoked by her cousin's
+contempt that she could not refrain from boasting of her political
+knowledge.  "I can tell you that your fine friends will in a few
+days not be able to protect you.  The Abbe Tracassier is in love
+with a dear friend of mine, and I know all the secrets of state
+from her--and I know what I know.  Be as incredulous as you please,
+but you will see that, before this week is at end, Monsieur de
+Fleury will be guillotined, and then what will become of you?  Good
+morning, my proud cousin."
+
+Shocked by what she had just heard, Victoire could scarcely believe
+that Manon was in earnest; she resolved, however, to go immediately
+and communicate this intelligence, whether true or false, to Madame
+de Fleury.  It agreed but too well with other circumstances, which
+alarmed this lady for the safety of her husband.  A man of his
+abilities, integrity, and fortune, could not in such times hope to
+escape persecution.  He was inclined to brave the danger; but his
+lady represented that it would not be courage, but rashness and
+folly, to sacrifice his life to the villainy of others, without
+probability or possibility of serving his country by his fall.
+
+Monsieur de Fleury, in consequence of these representations, and of
+Victoire's intelligence, made his escape from Paris; and the very
+next day placards were put up in every street, offering a price for
+the head of Citoyen Fleury, SUSPECTED OF INCIVISME.
+
+Struck with terror and astonishment at the sight of these placards,
+the children read them as they returned in the evening from school;
+and little Babet in the vehemence of her indignation mounted a
+lamplighter's ladder, and tore down one of the papers.  This
+imprudent action did not pass unobserved:  it was seen by one of
+the spies of Citoyen Tracassier, a man who, under the pretence of
+zeal pour la chose publique, gratified without scruple his private
+resentments and his malevolent passions.  In his former character
+of an abbe, and a man of wit, he had gained admittance into Madame
+de Fleury's society.  There he attempted to dictate both as a
+literary and religious despot.  Accidentally discovering that
+Madame de Fleury had a little school for poor children, he thought
+proper to be offended, because he had not been consulted respecting
+the regulations, and because he was not permitted, as he said, to
+take the charge of this little flock.  He made many objections to
+Sister Frances, as being an improper person to have the spiritual
+guidance of these young people; but as he was unable to give any
+just reason for his dislike, Madame de Fleury persisted in her
+choice, and was at last obliged to assert, in opposition to the
+domineering abbe, her right to judge and decide in her own affairs.
+With seeming politeness, he begged ten thousand pardons for his
+conscientious interference.  No more was said upon the subject; and
+as he did not totally withdraw from her society till the revolution
+broke out, she did not suspect that she had anything to fear from
+his resentment.  His manners and opinions changed suddenly with the
+times; the mask of religion was thrown off; and now, instead of
+objecting to Sister Frances as not being sufficiently strict and
+orthodox in her tenets, he boldly declared that a nun was not a fit
+person to be intrusted with the education of any of the young
+citizens--they should all be des eleves de la patrie.  The abbe,
+become a member of the Committee of Public Safety, denounced Madame
+de Fleury, in the strange jargon of the day, as "the fosterer of a
+swarm of bad citizens, who were nourished in the anticivic
+prejudices de l'ancien regime, and fostered in the most detestable
+superstitions, in defiance of the law."  He further observed, that
+he had good reason to believe that some of these little enemies to
+the constitution had contrived and abetted Monsieur de Fleury's
+escape.  Of their having rejoiced at it in a most indecent manner,
+he said he could produce irrefragable proof.  The boy who saw Babet
+tear down the placard was produced and solemnly examined; and the
+thoughtless action of this poor little girl was construed into a
+state crime of the most horrible nature.  In a declamatory tone,
+Tracassier reminded his fellow-citizens, that in the ancient
+Grecian times of virtuous republicanism (times of which France
+ought to show herself emulous), an Athenian child was condemned to
+death for having made a plaything of a fragment of the gilding that
+had fallen from a public statue.  The orator, for the reward of his
+eloquence, obtained an order to seize everything in Madame de
+Fleury's school-house, and to throw the nun into prison.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+
+"Who now will guard bewildered youth
+Safe from the fierce assault of hostile rage? -
+Such war can Virtue wage?"
+
+At the very moment when this order was going to be put in
+execution, Madame de Fleury was sitting in the midst of the
+children, listening to Babet, who was reading AEsop's fable of THE
+OLD MAN AND HIS SONS.  Whilst her sister was reading, Victoire
+collected a number of twigs from the garden:  she had just tied
+them together; and was going, by Sister Frances' desire, to let her
+companions try if they could break the bundle, when the attention
+to the moral of the fable was interrupted by the entrance of an old
+woman, whose countenance expressed the utmost terror and haste, to
+tell what she had not breath to utter.  To Madame de Fleury she was
+a stranger; but the children immediately recollected her to be the
+chestnut woman to whom Babet had some years ago restored certain
+purloined chestnuts.
+
+"Fly!" said she, the moment she had breath to speak:  "Fly!--they
+are coming to seize everything here--carry off what you can--make
+haste--make haste!--I came through a by-street.  A man was eating
+chestnuts at my stall, and I saw him show one that was with him the
+order from Citoyen Tracassier.  They'll be here in five minutes--
+quick!--quick!--You, in particular," continued she, turning to the
+nun, "else you'll be in prison."
+
+At these words, the children, who had clung round Sister Frances,
+loosed their hold, exclaiming, "Go! go quick:  but where? where?--
+we will go with her."
+
+"No, no!" said Madame de Fleury, "she shall come home with me--my
+carriage is at the door."
+
+"Ma belle dame!" cried the chestnut woman, "your house is the worst
+place she can go to--let her come to my cellar--the poorest cellar
+in these days is safer than the grandest palace."
+
+So saying, she seized the nun with honest roughness, and hurried
+her away.  As soon as she was gone, the children ran different
+ways, each to collect some favourite thing, which they thought they
+could not leave behind.  Victoire alone stood motionless beside
+Madame de Fleury; her whole thoughts absorbed by the fear that her
+benefactress would be imprisoned.  "Oh, madame! dear, dear Madame
+de Fleury, don't stay! don't stay!"
+
+"Oh, children, never mind these things."
+
+"Don't stay, madame, don't stay!  I will stay with them--I will
+stay--do you go."
+
+The children hearing these words, and recollecting Madame de
+Fleury's danger, abandoned all their little property, and instantly
+obeyed her orders to go home to their parents.  Victoire at last
+saw Madame de Fleury safe in her carriage.  The coachman drove off
+at a great rate; and a few minutes afterwards Tracassier's
+myrmidons arrived at the schoolhouse.  Great was their surprise
+when they found only the poor children's little books, unfinished
+samplers, and half-hemmed handkerchiefs.  They ran into the garden
+to search for the nun.  They were men of brutal habits, yet as they
+looked at everything round them, which bespoke peace, innocence,
+and childish happiness, they could not help thinking it was a pity
+to destroy what could do the nation no great harm after all.  They
+were even glad that the nun had made her escape, since they were
+not answerable for it; and they returned to their employer
+satisfied for once without doing any mischief; but Citizen
+Tracassier was of too vindictive a temper to suffer the objects of
+his hatred thus to elude his vengeance.  The next day Madame de
+Fleury was summoned before his tribunal and ordered to give up the
+nun, against whom, as a suspected person, a decree of the law had
+been obtained.
+
+Madame de Fleury refused to betray the innocent woman; the gentle
+firmness of this lady's answers to a brutal interrogatory was
+termed insolence--she was pronounced a refractory aristocrat,
+dangerous to the state; and an order was made out to seal up her
+goods, and to keep her a prisoner in her own house.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+
+"Alas! full oft on Guilt's victorious car
+The spoils of Virtue are in triumph borne,
+While the fair captive, marked with many a scar,
+In lone obscurity, oppressed, forlorn,
+Resigns to tears her angel form."--BEATTIE.
+
+A close prisoner in her own house, Madame de Fleury was now guarded
+by men suddenly become soldiers, and sprung from the dregs of the
+people; men of brutal manners, ferocious countenances, and more
+ferocious minds.  They seemed to delight in the insolent display of
+their newly-acquired power.  One of those men had formerly been
+convicted of some horrible crime, and had been sent to the galleys
+by M. de Fleury.  Revenge actuated this wretch under the mask of
+patriotism, and he rejoiced in seeing the wife of the man he hated
+a prisoner in his custody.  Ignorant of the facts, his associates
+were ready to believe him in the right, and to join in the
+senseless cry against all who were their superiors in fortune,
+birth, and education.  This unfortunate lady was forbidden all
+intercourse with her friends, and it was in vain she attempted to
+obtain from her gaolers intelligence of what was passing in Paris.
+
+"Tu verras--Tout va bien--Ca ira," were the only answers they
+deigned to make; frequently they continued smoking their pipes in
+obdurate silence.  She occupied the back rooms of her house,
+because her guards apprehended that she might from the front
+windows receive intelligence from her friends.  One morning she was
+awakened by an unusual noise in the streets; and, upon her
+inquiring the occasion of it, her guards told her she was welcome
+to go to the front windows and satisfy her curiosity.  She went,
+and saw an immense crowd of people surrounding a guillotine that
+had been erected the preceding night.  Madame de Fleury started
+back with horror--her guards burst into an inhuman laugh, and asked
+whether her curiosity was satisfied.  She would have left the room;
+but it was now their pleasure to detain her, and to force her to
+continue the whole day in this apartment.  When the guillotine
+began its work, they had even the barbarity to drag her to the
+window, repeating, "It is there you ought to be!--It is there your
+husband ought to be!--You are too happy, that your husband is not
+there this moment.  But he will be there--the law will overtake
+him--he will be there in time--and you too!"
+
+The mild fortitude of this innocent, benevolent woman made no
+impression upon these cruel men.  When at night they saw her
+kneeling at her prayers, they taunted her with gross and impious
+mockery; and when she sank to sleep, they would waken her by their
+loud and drunken orgies--if she remonstrated, they answered, "The
+enemies of the constitution should have no rest."
+
+Madame de Fleury was not an enemy to any human being; she had never
+interfered in politics; her life had been passed in domestic
+pleasures, or employed for the good of her fellow-creatures.  Even
+in this hour of personal danger she thought of others more than of
+herself:  she thought of her husband, an exile in a foreign
+country, who might be reduced to the utmost distress now that she
+was deprived of all means of remitting him money.  She thought of
+her friends, who, she knew, would exert themselves to obtain her
+liberty, and whose zeal in her cause might involve them and their
+families in distress.  She thought of the good Sister Frances, who
+had been exposed by her means to the unrelenting persecution of the
+malignant and powerful Tracassier.  She thought of her poor little
+pupils, now thrown upon the world without a protector.  Whilst
+these ideas were revolving in her mind one night as she lay awake,
+she heard the door of her chamber open softly, and a soldier, one
+of her guards, with a light in his hand, entered; he came to the
+foot of her bed, and, as she started up, laid his finger upon his
+lips.
+
+"Don't make the least noise," said he in a whisper; "those without
+are drunk, and asleep.  Don't you know me?--don't you remember my
+face?"
+
+"Not in the least; yet I have some recollection of your voice."
+
+The man took off the bonnet-rouge--still she could not guess who he
+was.  "You never saw me in a uniform before nor without a black
+face."
+
+She looked again, and recollected the smith to whom Maurice was
+bound apprentice, and remembered his patois accent.
+
+"I remember you," said he, "at any rate; and your goodness to that
+poor girl the day her arm was broken, and all your goodness to
+Maurice.  But I've no time for talking of that now--get up, wrap
+this great coat round you--don't be in a hurry, but make no noise--
+and follow me."
+
+She followed him; and he led her past the sleeping sentinels,
+opened a back door into the garden, hurried her (almost carried
+her) across the garden to a door at the furthest end of it, which
+opened into Les Champs Elysees--"La voila!" cried he, pushing her
+through the half-opened door.  "God be praised!" answered a voice,
+which Madame de Fleury knew to be Victoire's, whose arms were
+thrown round her with a transport of joy.
+
+"Softly; she is not safe yet--wait till we get her home, Victoire,"
+said another voice, which she knew to be that of Maurice.  He
+produced a dark lantern, and guided Madame de Fleury across the
+Champs Elysees, and across the bridge, and then through various by-
+streets, in perfect silence, till they arrived safely at the house
+where Victoire's mother lodged, and went up those very stairs which
+she had ascended in such different circumstances several years
+before.  The mother, who was sitting up waiting most anxiously for
+the return of her children, clasped her hands in an ecstasy when
+she saw them return with Madame de Fleury.
+
+"Welcome, madame!  Welcome, dear madame! but who would have thought
+of seeing you here in such a way?  Let her rest herself--let her
+rest; she is quite overcome.  Here, madame, can you sleep on this
+poor bed?"
+
+"The very same bed you laid me upon the day my arm was broken,"
+said Victoire.
+
+"Ay, Lord bless her!" said the mother; "and though it's seven good
+years ago, it seemed but yesterday that I saw her sitting on that
+bed beside my poor child looking like an angel.  But let her rest,
+let her rest--we'll not say a word more, only God bless her; thank
+Heaven, she's safe with us at last!"
+
+Madame de Fleury expressed unwillingness to stay with these good
+people, lest she should expose them to danger; but they begged most
+earnestly that she would remain with them without scruple.
+
+"Surely, madame," said the mother, "you must think that we have
+some remembrance of all you have done for us, and some touch of
+gratitude."
+
+"And surely, madame, you can trust us, I hope," said Maurice.
+
+"And surely you are not too proud to let us do something for you.
+The lion was not too proud to be served by the poor little mouse,"
+said Victoire.  "As to danger for us," continued she, "there can be
+none; for Maurice and I have contrived a hiding-place for you,
+madame, that can never be found out--let them come spying here as
+often as they please, they will never find her out, will they,
+Maurice?  Look, madame, into this lumber-room; you see it seems to
+be quite full of wood for firing; well, if you creep in behind, you
+can hide yourself quite sung in the loft above, and here's a trap-
+door into the loft that nobody ever would think of, for we have
+hung these old things from the top of it, and who could guess it
+was a trap-door?  So you see, dear madame, you may sleep in peace
+here, and never fear for us."
+
+Though but a girl of fourteen, Victoire showed at this time all the
+sense and prudence of a woman of thirty.  Gratitude seemed at once
+to develop all the powers of her mind.  It was she and Maurice who
+had prevailed upon the smith to effect Madame de Fleury's escape
+from her own house.  She had invented, she had foreseen, she had
+arranged everything; she had scarcely rested night or day since the
+imprisonment of her benefactress, and now that her exertions had
+fully succeeded, her joy seemed to raise her above all feeling of
+fatigue; she looked as fresh and moved as briskly, her mother said,
+as if she were preparing to go to a ball.
+
+"Ah! my child," said she, "your cousin Manon, who goes to those
+balls every night, was never so happy as you are this minute."
+
+But Victoire's happiness was not of long continuance; for the next
+day they were alarmed by intelligence that Tracassier was enraged
+beyond measure at Madame de Fleury's escape, that all his
+emissaries were at work to discover her present hiding-place, that
+the houses of all the parents and relations of her pupils were to
+be searched, and that the most severe denunciations were issued
+against all by whom she should be harboured.  Manon was the person
+who gave this intelligence, but not with any benevolent design; she
+first came to Victoire, to display her own consequence; and to
+terrify her, she related all she knew from a soldier's wife, who
+was M. Tracassier's mistress.  Victoire had sufficient command over
+herself to conceal from the inquisitive eyes of Manon the agitation
+of her heart; she had also the prudence not to let any one of her
+companions into her secret, though, when she saw their anxiety, she
+was much tempted to relieve them, by the assurance that Madame de
+Fleury was in safety.  All the day was passed in apprehension.
+Madame de Fleury never stirred from her place of concealment:  as
+the evening and the hour of the domiciliary visits approached,
+Victoire and Maurice were alarmed by an unforeseen difficulty.
+Their mother, whose health had been broken by hard work, in vain
+endeavoured to suppress her terror at the thoughts of this
+domiciliary visit; she repeated incessantly that she knew they
+should all be discovered, and that her children would be dragged to
+the guillotine before her face.  She was in such a distracted
+state, that they dreaded she would, the moment she saw the
+soldiers, reveal all she knew.
+
+"If they question me, I shall not know what to answer," cried the
+terrified woman.  "What can I say?--What can I do?"
+
+Reasoning, entreaties, all were vain; she was not in a condition to
+understand, or even to listen to, anything that was said.  In this
+situation they were when the domiciliary visitors arrived--they
+heard the noise of the soldiers' feet on the stairs--the poor woman
+sprang from the arms of her children; but at the moment the door
+was opened, and she saw the glittering of the bayonets, she fell at
+full length in a swoon on the floor--fortunately before she had
+power to utter a syllable.  The people of the house knew, and said,
+that she was subject to fits on any sudden alarm; so that her being
+affected in this manner did not appear surprising.  They threw her
+on a bed, whilst they proceeded to search the house:  her children
+stayed with her; and, wholly occupied in attending to her, they
+were not exposed to the danger of betraying their anxiety about
+Madame de Fleury.  They trembled, however, from head to foot when
+they heard one of the soldiers swear that all the wood in the
+lumber-room must be pulled out, and that he would not leave the
+house till every stick was moved; the sound of each log, as it was
+thrown out, was heard by Victoire; her brother was now summoned to
+assist.  How great was his terror when one of the searchers looked
+up to the roof, as if expecting to find a trap door; fortunately,
+however, he did not discover it.  Maurice, who had seized the
+light, contrived to throw the shadows so as to deceive the eye.
+The soldiers at length retreated; and with inexpressible
+satisfaction Maurice lighted them down stairs, and saw them fairly
+out of the house.  For some minutes after they were in safety, the
+terrified mother, who had recovered her senses, could scarcely
+believe that the danger was over.  She embraced her children by
+turns with wild transport; and with tears begged Madame de Fleury
+to forgive her cowardice, and not to attribute it to ingratitude,
+or to suspect that she had a bad heart.  She protested that she was
+now become so courageous, since she found that she had gone through
+this trial successfully, and since she was sure that the hiding-
+place was really so secure, that she should never be alarmed at any
+domiciliary visit in future.  Madame de Fleury, however, did not
+think it either just or expedient to put her resolution to the
+trial.  She determined to leave Paris; and, if possible, to make
+her escape from France.  The master of one of the Paris diligences
+was brother to Francois, her footman:  he was ready to assist her
+at all hazards, and to convey her safely to Bourdeaux, if she could
+disguise herself properly; and if she could obtain a pass from any
+friend under a feigned name.
+
+Victoire--the indefatigable Victoire--recollected that her friend
+Annette had an aunt, who was nearly of Madame de Fleury's size, and
+who had just obtained a pass to go to Bourdeaux, to visit some of
+her relations.  The pass was willingly given up to Madame de
+Fleury; and upon reading it over it was found to answer tolerably
+well--the colour of the eyes and hair at least would do; though the
+words un nez gros were not precisely descriptive of this lady's.
+Annette's mother, who had always worn the provincial dress of
+Auvergne, furnished the high cornette, stiff stays, bodice, &c.;
+and equipped in these, Madame de Fleury was so admirably well
+disguised, that even Victoire declared she should scarcely have
+known her.  Money, that most necessary passport in all countries,
+was still wanting:  as seals had been put upon all Madame de
+Fleury's effects the day she had been first imprisoned in her own
+house, she could not save even her jewels.  She had, however, one
+ring on her finger of some value.  How to dispose of it without
+exciting suspicion was the difficulty.  Babet, who was resolved to
+have her share in assisting her benefactress, proposed to carry the
+ring to a colporteur--a pedlar, or sort of travelling jeweller--who
+had come to lay in a stock of hardware at Paris:  he was related to
+one of Madame de Fleury's little pupils, and readily disposed of
+the ring for her:  she obtained at least two-thirds of its value--a
+great deal in those times.
+
+The proofs of integrity, attachment, and gratitude which she
+received in these days of peril, from those whom she had obliged in
+her prosperity, touched her generous heart so much, that she has
+often since declared she could not regret having been reduced to
+distress.  Before she quitted Paris she wrote letters to her
+friends, recommending her pupils to their protection; she left
+these letters in the care of Victoire, who to the last moment
+followed her with anxious affection.  She would have followed her
+benefactress into exile, but that she was prevented by duty and
+affection from leaving her mother, who was in declining health.
+
+Madame de Fleury successfully made her escape from Paris.  Some of
+the municipal officers in the towns through which she passed on her
+road were as severe as their ignorance would permit in scrutinising
+her passport.  It seldom happened that more than one of these petty
+committees of public safety could read.  One usually spelled out
+the passport as well as he could, whilst the others smoked their
+pipes, and from time to time held a light up to the lady's face to
+examine whether it agreed with the description.
+
+"Mais toi! tu n'as pas le nez gros!" said one of her judges to her.
+"Son nez est assez gros, et c'est moi qui le dit," said another.
+The question was put to the vote; and the man who had asserted what
+was contrary to the evidence of his senses was so vehement in
+supporting his opinion, that it was carried in spite of all that
+could be said against it.  Madame de Fleury was suffered to proceed
+on her journey.  She reached Bordeaux in safety.  Her husband's
+friends--the good have always friends in adversity--her husband's
+friends exerted themselves for her with the most prudent zeal.  She
+was soon provided with a sum of money sufficient for her support
+for some time in England; and she safely reached that free and
+happy country, which has been the refuge of so many illustrious
+exiles.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+
+"Cosi rozzo diamante appena splende
+Dalla rupe natia quand' esce fuora,
+E a poco a poco lucido se rende
+Sotto l'attenta che lo lavora."
+
+Madame de Fleury joined her husband, who was in London, and they
+both lived in the most retired and frugal manner.  They had too
+much of the pride of independence to become burthensome to their
+generous English friends.  Notwithstanding the variety of
+difficulties they had to encounter, and the number of daily
+privations to which they were forced to submit, yet they were
+happy--in a tranquil conscience, in their mutual affection, and the
+attachment of many poor but grateful friends.  A few months after
+she came to England, Madame de Fleury received, by a private hand,
+a packet of letters from her little pupils.  Each of them, even the
+youngest, who had but just begun to learn joining-hand, would write
+a few lines in this packet.
+
+In various hands, of various sizes, the changes were rung upon
+these simple words:-
+
+
+"MY DEAR MADAME DE FLEURY,
+
+"I love you--I wish you were here again--I will be VERY VERY good
+whilst you are away.  If you stay away ever so long, I shall never
+forget you, nor your goodness; but I hope you will soon be able to
+come back, and this is what I pray for every night.  Sister Frances
+says I may tell you that I am very good, and Victoire thinks so
+too."
+
+
+This was the substance of several of their little letters.
+Victoire's contained rather more information:-
+
+"You will be glad to learn that dear Sister Frances is safe, and
+that the good chestnut-woman, in whose cellar she took refuge, did
+not get into any difficulty.  After you were gone, M. T- said that
+he did not think it worth while to pursue her, as it was only you
+he wanted to humble.  Manon, who has, I do not know how, means of
+knowing, told me this.  Sister Frances is now with her abbess, who,
+as well as everybody else that knows her, is very fond of her.
+What was a convent is no longer a convent--the nuns are turned out
+of it.  Sister Frances' health is not so good as it used to be,
+though she never complains.  I am sure she suffers much; she has
+never been the same person since that day when we were driven from
+our happy school-room.  It is all destroyed--the garden and
+everything.  It is now a dismal sight.  Your absence also afflicts
+Sister Frances much, and she is in great anxiety about all of us.
+She has the six little ones with her every day in her own
+apartment, and goes on teaching them as she used to do.  We six
+eldest go to see her as often as we can.  I should have begun, my
+dear Madame de Fleury, by telling you, that, the day after you left
+Paris, I went to deliver all the letters you were so very kind to
+write for us in the midst of your hurry.  Your friends have been
+exceedingly good to us, and have got places for us all.  Rose is
+with Madame la Grace, your mantua-maker, who says she is more handy
+and more expert at cutting out than girls she has had these three
+years.  Marianne is in the service of Madame de V-, who has lost a
+great part of her large fortune, and cannot afford to keep her
+former waiting-maid.  Madame de V- is well pleased with Marianne,
+and bids me tell you that she thanks you for her.  Indeed,
+Marianne, though she is only fourteen, can do everything her lady
+wants.  Susanne is with a confectioner.  She gave Sister Frances a
+box of bonbons of her own making this morning; and Sister Frances,
+who is a judge, says they are excellent--she only wishes you could
+taste them.  Annette and I (thanks to your kindness!) are in the
+same service with Madame Feuillot, the brodeuse, to whom you
+recommended us.  She is not discontented with our work, and,
+indeed, sent a very civil message yesterday to Sister Frances on
+this subject; but believe it is too flattering for me to repeat in
+this letter.  We shall do our best to give her satisfaction.  She
+is glad to find that we can write tolerably, and that we can make
+out bills and keep accounts, this being particularly convenient to
+her at present, as the young man she had in the shop is become an
+orator, and good for nothing but la chose publique; her son, who
+could have supplied his place, is ill; and Madame Feuillot herself,
+not having had, as she says, the advantage of such a good education
+as we have been blessed with, writes but badly, and knows nothing
+of arithmetic.  Dear Madame de Fleury, how much, how very much we
+are obliged to you!  We feel it every day more and more; in these
+times what would have become of us if we could do nothing useful?
+Who would, who could be burdened with us?  Dear madame, we owe
+everything to you--and we can do nothing, not the least thing for
+you!  My mother is still in bad health, and I fear will never
+recover; Babet is with her always, and Sister Frances is very good
+to her.  My brother Maurice is now so good a workman that he earns
+a louis a week.  He is very steady to his business, and never goes
+to the revolutionary meetings, though once he had a great mind to
+be an orator of the people, but never since the day that you
+explained to him that he knew nothing about equality and the rights
+of men, &c.  How could I forget to tell you, that his master the
+smith, who was one of your guards, and who assisted you to escape,
+has returned without suspicion to his former trade? and he declares
+that he will never more meddle with public affairs.  I gave him the
+money you left with me for him.  He is very kind to my brother.
+Yesterday Maurice mended for Annette's mistress the lock of an
+English writing-desk, and he mended it so astonishingly well, that
+an English gentleman, who saw it, could not believe the work was
+done by a Frenchman; so my brother was sent for, to prove it, and
+they were forced to believe it.  To-day he has more work than he
+can finish this twelve-month--all this we owe to you.  I shall
+never forget the day when you promised that you would grant my
+brother's wish to be apprenticed to the smith, if I was not in a
+passion for a month; that cured me of being so passionate.
+
+"Dear Madame de Fleury, I have written you too long a letter, and
+not so well as I can write when I am not in a hurry; but I wanted
+to tell you everything at once, because, may be, I shall not for a
+long time have so safe an opportunity of sending a letter to you.
+
+"VICTOIRE."
+
+
+Several months elapsed before Madame do Fleury received another
+letter from Victoire; it was short and evidently written in great
+distress of mind.  It contained an account of her mother's death.
+She was now left at the early age of sixteen an orphan.  Madame
+Feuillot, the brodeuse, with whom she lived, added few lines to her
+letter, penned with difficulty and strangely spelled, but,
+expressive of her being highly pleased with both the girls
+recommended to her by Madame de Fleury, especially Victoire, who
+she said was such a treasure to her, that she would not part with
+her on any account, and should consider her as a daughter.  "I tell
+her not to grieve so much; for though she has lost one mother she
+has gained another for herself, who will always love her; and
+besides she is so useful, and in so many ways, with her pen and her
+needle, in accounts, and everything that is wanted in a family or a
+shop; she can never want employment or friends in the worst times,
+and none can be worse than these, especially for such pretty girls
+as she is, who have all their heads turned, and are taught to
+consider nothing a sin that used to be sins.  Many gentlemen, who
+come to our shop, have found out that Victoire is very handsome,
+and tell her so; but she is so modest and prudent that I am not
+afraid for her.  I could tell you, madame, a good anecdote on this
+subject, but my paper will not allow, and, besides, my writing is
+so difficult."
+
+Above a year elapsed before Madame de Fleury received another
+letter from Victoire:  this was in a parcel, of which an emigrant
+took charge; it contained a variety of little offerings from her
+pupils, instances of their ingenuity, their industry, and their
+affection; the last thing in the packet was a small purse labelled
+in this manner -
+
+"Savings from our wages and earnings for her who taught us all we
+know."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+
+"Dans sa pompe elegante, admirez Chantilly,
+De heros en heros, d'age en age, embelli."--DE LILLE.
+
+The health of the good Sister Frances, which had suffered much from
+the shock her mind received at the commencement of the revolution,
+declined so rapidly in the course of the two succeeding years, that
+she was obliged to leave Paris, and she retired to a little village
+in the neighbourhood of Chantilly.  She chose this situation
+because here she was within a morning's walk of Madame de Fleury's
+country-seat.  The Chateau de Fleury had not yet been seized as
+national property, nor had it suffered from the attacks of the mob,
+though it was in a perilous situation, within view of the high road
+to Paris.  The Parisian populace had not yet extended their
+outrages to this distance from the city, and the poor people who
+lived on the estate of Fleury, attached from habit, principle, and
+gratitude, to their lord, were not disposed to take advantage of
+the disorder of the times, to injure the property of those from
+whom they had all their lives received favours and protection.  A
+faithful old steward had the care of the castle and the grounds.
+Sister Frances was impatient to talk to him and to visit the
+chateau, which she had never seen; but for some days after her
+arrival in the village she was so much fatigued and so weak that
+she could not attempt so long a walk.  Victoire had obtained
+permission from her mistress to accompany the nun for a few days to
+the country, as Annette undertook to do all the business of the
+shop during the absence of her companion.  Victoire was fully as
+eager as Sister Frances to see the faithful steward and the Chateau
+de Fleury, and the morning was now fixed for their walk; but in the
+middle of the night they were awakened by the shouts of a mob, who
+had just entered the village fresh from the destruction of a
+neighbouring castle.  The nun and Victoire listened; but in the
+midst of the horrid yells of joy no human voice, no intelligible
+word could be distinguished; they looked through a chink in the
+window-shutter and they saw the street below filled with a crowd of
+men, whose countenances were by turns illuminated by the glare of
+the torches which they brandished.
+
+"Good Heavens!" whispered the nun to Victoire:  "I should know the
+face of that man who is loading his musket--the very man whom I
+nursed ten years ago when he was ill with a gaol fever!"
+
+This man, who stood in the midst of the crowd, taller by the head
+than the others, seemed to be the leader of the party; they were
+disputing whether they should proceed further, spend the remainder
+of the night in the village alehouse, or return to Paris.  Their
+leader ordered spirits to be distributed to his associates, and
+exhorted them in a loud voice to proceed in their glorious work.
+Tossing his firebrand over his head he declared that he would never
+return to Paris till he had razed to the ground the Chateau de
+Fleury.  At these words, Victoire, forgetful of all personal
+danger, ran out into the midst of the mob, pressed her way up to
+the leader of these ruffians, caught him by the arm, exclaiming,
+"You will not touch a stone in the Chateau de Fleury--I have my
+reasons--I say you will not suffer a stone in the Chateau de Fleury
+to be touched."
+
+"And why not?" cried the man, turning astonished; "and who are you
+that I should listen to you?"
+
+"No matter who I am," said Victoire; "follow me and I will show you
+one to whom you will not refuse to listen.  Here!--here she is,"
+continued Victoire, pointing to the nun, who had followed her in
+amazement; here is one to whom you will listen--yes, look at her
+well:  hold the light to her face."
+
+The nun, in a supplicating attitude, stood in speechless
+expectation.
+
+"Ay, I see you have gratitude, I know you will have mercy," cried
+Victoire, watching the workings in the countenance of the man; "you
+will save the Chateau de Fleury for her sake--who saved your life."
+
+"I will," cried this astonished chief of a mob, fired with sudden
+generosity.  "By my faith you are a brave girl, and a fine girl,
+and know how to speak to the heart, and in the right moment.
+Friends, citizens, this nun, though she is a nun, is good for
+something.  When I lay ill with a fever, and not a soul else to
+help me, she came and gave me medicines and food--in short, I owe
+my life to her.  'Tis ten years ago, but I remember it well, and
+now it is our turn to rule, and she shall be paid as she deserves.
+Not a stone of the Chateau de Fleury shall be touched!"
+
+With loud acclamations the mob joined in the generous enthusiasm of
+the moment and followed their leader peaceably out of the village.
+All this passed with such rapidity as scarcely to leave the
+impression of reality upon the mind.  As soon as the sun rose in
+the morning Victoire looked out for the turrets of the Chateau de
+Fleury, and she saw that they were safe--safe in the midst of the
+surrounding devastation.  Nothing remained of the superb palace of
+Chantilly but the white arches of its foundation.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+
+"When thy last breath, ere Nature sank to rest
+Thy meek submission to thy God expressed;
+When thy last look, ere thought and feeling fled,
+A mingled gleam of hope and triumph shed;
+What to thy soul its glad assurance gave -
+Its hope in death, its triumph o'er the grave?
+The sweet remembrance of unblemished youth,
+Th' inspiring voice of innocence and truth!"--ROGERS.
+
+The good Sister Frances, though she had scarcely recovered from the
+shock of the preceding night, accompanied Victoire to the Chateau
+de Fleury.  The gates were opened for them by the old steward and
+his son Basile, who welcomed them with all the eagerness with which
+people welcome friends in time of adversity.  The old man showed
+them the place; and through every apartment of the castle went on
+talking of former times, and with narrative fondness told anecdotes
+of his dear master and mistress.  Here his lady used to sit and
+read--here was the table at which she wrote--this was the sofa on
+which she and the ladies sat the very last day she was at the
+castle, at the open windows of the hall, whilst all the tenants and
+people of the village were dancing on the green.
+
+"Ay, those were happy times," said the old man; "but they will
+never return."
+
+"Never!  Oh do not say so," cried Victoire.
+
+"Never during my life, at least," said the nun in a low voice, and
+with a look of resignation.
+
+Basile, as he wiped the tears from his eyes, happened to strike his
+arm against the chord of Madame de Fleury's harp, and the sound
+echoed through the room.
+
+"Before this year is at an end," cried Victoire, "perhaps that harp
+will be struck again in this Chateau by Madame de Fleury herself.
+Last night we could hardly have hoped to see these walls standing
+this morning, and yet it is safe--not a stone touched!  Oh, we
+shall all live, I hope, to see better times!"
+
+Sister Frances smiled, for she would not depress Victoire's
+enthusiastic hope:  to please her, the good nun added, that she
+felt better this morning than she had felt for months, and Victoire
+was happier than she had been since Madame de Fleury left France.
+But, alas! it was only a transient gleam.  Sister Frances relapsed
+and declined so rapidly, that even Victoire, whose mind was almost
+always disposed to hope, despaired of her recovery.  With placid
+resignation, or rather with mild confidence, this innocent and
+benevolent creature met the approach of death.  She seemed attached
+to earth only by affection for those whom she was to leave in this
+world.  Two of the youngest of the children who had formerly been
+placed under her care, and who were not yet able to earn their own
+subsistence, she kept with her, and in the last days of her life
+she continued her instructions to them with the fond solicitude of
+a parent.  Her father confessor, an excellent man, who never even
+in these dangerous times shrank from his duty, came to Sister
+Frances in her last moments, and relieved her mind from all
+anxiety, by promising to place the two little children with the
+lady who had been abbess of her convent, who would to the utmost of
+her power protect and provide for them suitably.  Satisfied by this
+promise, the good Sister Frances smiled upon Victoire, who stood
+beside her bed, and with that smile upon her countenance expired.--
+It was some time before the little children seemed to comprehend,
+or to believe, that Sister Frances was dead:  they had never before
+seen any one die; they had no idea what it was to die, and their
+first feeling was astonishment; they did not seem to understand why
+Victoire wept.  But the next day when no Sister Frances spoke to
+them, when every hour they missed some accustomed kindness from
+her,--when presently they saw the preparations for her funeral,--
+when they heard that she was to be buried in the earth, and that
+they should never see her more,--they could neither play nor eat,
+but sat in a corner holding each other's hands, and watching
+everything that was done for the dead by Victoire.
+
+In those times, the funeral of a nun, with a priest attending,
+would not have been permitted by the populace.  It was therefore
+performed as secretly as possible:  in the middle of the night the
+coffin was carried to the burial-place of the Fleury family; the
+old steward, his son Basile, Victoire, and the good father
+confessor, were the only persons present.  It is necessary to
+mention this, because the facts were afterwards misrepresented.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+
+"The character is lost!
+Her head adorned with lappets, pinned aloft,
+And ribands streaming gay, superbly raised,
+Indebted to some smart wig-weaver's hand
+For more than half the tresses it sustains."--COWPER.
+
+Upon her return to Paris, Victoire felt melancholy; but she exerted
+herself as much as possible in her usual occupation; finding that
+employment and the consciousness of doing her duty were the best
+remedies for sorrow.
+
+One day as she was busy settling Madame Feuillot's accounts a
+servant came into the shop and inquired for Mademoiselle Victoire:
+he presented her a note, which she found rather difficult to
+decipher.  It was signed by her cousin Manon, who desired to see
+Victoire at her hotel.  "HER HOTEL!" repeated Victoire with
+astonishment.  The servant assured her that one of the finest
+hotels in Paris belonged to his lady, and that he was commissioned
+to show her the way to it.  Victoire found her cousin in a
+magnificent house, which had formerly belonged to the Prince de
+Salms.  Manon, dressed in the disgusting, indecent extreme of the
+mode, was seated under a richly-fringed canopy.  She burst into a
+loud laugh as Victoire entered.
+
+"You look just as much astonished as I expected," cried she.
+"Great changes have happened since I saw you last--I always told
+you, Victoire, I knew the world better than you did.  What has come
+of all your schooling, and your mighty goodness, and your gratitude
+truly?  Your patroness is banished and a beggar, and you a drudge
+in the shop of a brodeuse, who makes you work your fingers to the
+bone, no doubt.  Now you shall see the difference.  Let me show you
+my house; you know it was formerly the hotel of the Prince de
+Salms, he that was guillotined the other day; but you know nothing,
+for you have been out of Paris this month, I understand.  Then I
+must tell you that my friend Villeneuf has acquired an immense
+fortune! by assignats made in the course of a fortnight.  I say an
+immense fortune! and has bought this fine house.  Now do you begin
+to understand?"
+
+"I do not clearly know whom you mean by 'your friend Villeneuf,'"
+said Victoire.
+
+"The hairdresser who lived in our street," said Manon; "he became a
+great patriot, you know, and orator; and, what with his eloquence
+and his luck in dealing in assignats, he has made his fortune and
+mine."
+
+"And yours! then he is your husband?"
+
+"That does not follow--that is not necessary--but do not look so
+shocked--everybody goes on the sane way now; besides, I had no
+other resource--I must have starved--I could not earn my bread as
+you do.  Besides, I was too delicate for hard work of any sort--and
+besides--but come, let me show you my house--you have no idea how
+fine it is."
+
+With anxious ostentation Manon displayed all her riches to excite
+Victoire's envy.
+
+"Confess, Victoire," said she at last, "that you think me the
+happiest person you have ever known.--You do not answer; whom did
+you ever know that was happier?"
+
+"Sister Frances, who died last week, appeared to be much happier,"
+said Victoire.
+
+"The poor nun!" said Manon, disdainfully.  "Well, and whom do you
+think the next happiest?"
+
+"Madame de Fleury."
+
+"An exile and a beggar!--Oh, you are jesting now, Victoire--or--
+envious.  With that sanctified face, citoyenne--perhaps I should
+say Mademoiselle--Victoire you would be delighted to change places
+with me this instant.  Come, you shall stay with me a week to try
+how you like it."
+
+"Excuse me," said Victoire, firmly; "I cannot stay with you, Manon;
+you have chosen one way of life and I another--quite another.  I do
+not repent my choice--may you never repent yours!--Farewell!"
+
+"Bless me! what airs! and with what dignity she looks!  Repent of
+my choice!--a likely thing, truly.  Am not I at the top of the
+wheel?"
+
+"And may not the wheel turn?" said Victoire.
+
+"Perhaps it may," said Manon; "but till it does I will enjoy
+myself.  Since you are of a different humour, return to Madame
+Feuillot, and figure upon cambric and muslin, and make out bills,
+and nurse old nuns all the days of your life.  You will never
+persuade me, however, that you would not change places with me if
+you could.  Stay till you are tried, Mademoiselle Victoire.  Who
+was ever in love with you or your virtues?--Stay till you are
+tried."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+
+"But beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree,
+Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard
+Of dragon watch with unenchanted eye
+To save her blossoms, or defend her fruit."--MILTON.
+
+The trial was nearer than either Manon or Victoire expected.  Manon
+had scarcely pronounced the last words when the ci-devant
+hairdresser burst into the room, accompanied by several of his
+political associates, who met to consult measures for the good of
+the nation.  Among these patriots was the Abbe Tracassier.
+
+"Who is that pretty girl who is with you, Manon?" whispered he; "a
+friend of yours, I hope?"
+
+Victoire left the room immediately, but not before the profligate
+abbe had seen enough to make him wish to see more.  The next day he
+went to Madame Feuillot's under pretence of buying some embroidered
+handkerchiefs; he paid Victoire a profusion of extravagant
+compliments, which made no impression upon her innocent heart, and
+which appeared ridiculous to her plain good sense.  She did not
+know who he was, nor did Madame Feuillot; for though she had often
+heard of the abbe, yet she had never seen him.  Several succeeding
+days he returned, and addressed himself to Victoire, each time with
+increasing freedom.  Madame Feuillot, who had the greatest
+confidence in her, left her entirely to her own discretion.
+Victoire begged her friend Annette to do the business of the shop,
+and stayed at work in the back parlour.  Tracassier was much
+disappointed by her absence; but as he thought no great ceremony
+necessary in his proceedings, he made his name known in a haughty
+manner to Madame de Feuillot, and desired that he might be admitted
+into the back parlour, as he had something of consequence to say to
+Mademoiselle Victoire in private.  Our readers will not require to
+have a detailed account of this tete-a-tete; it is sufficient to
+say that the disappointed and exasperated abbe left the house
+muttering imprecations.  The next morning a note came to Victoire
+apparently from Manon:  it was directed by her, but the inside was
+written by an unknown hand, and continued these words:-
+
+"You are a charming, but incomprehensible girl--since you do not
+like compliments, you shall not be addressed with empty flattery.
+It is in the power of the person who dictates this, not only to
+make you as rich and great as your cousin Manon, but also to
+restore to fortune and to their country the friends for whom, you
+are most interested.  Their fate as well as your own is in your
+power:  if you send a favourable answer to this note, the persons
+alluded to will, to-morrow, be struck from the list of emigrants,
+and reinstated in their former possessions.  If your answer is
+decidedly unfavourable, the return of your friends to France will
+be thenceforward impracticable, and their chateau, as well as their
+house in Paris, will be declared national property, and sold
+without delay to the highest bidder.  To you, who have as much
+understanding as beauty, it is unnecessary to say more.  Consult
+your heart, charming Victoire! be happy, and make others happy.
+This moment is decisive of your fate and of theirs, for you have to
+answer a man of a most decided character."
+
+Victoire's answer was as follows:-
+
+"My friends would not, I am sure, accept of their fortune, or
+consent to return to their country, upon the conditions proposed;
+therefore I have no merit in rejecting them."
+
+Victoire had early acquired good principles, and that plain steady
+good sense, which goes straight to its object, without being
+dazzled or imposed upon by sophistry.  She was unacquainted with
+the refinements of sentiment, but she distinctly knew right from
+wrong, and had sufficient resolution to abide by the right.
+Perhaps many romantic heroines might have thought it a generous
+self-devotion to have become in similar circumstances the mistress
+of Tracassier; and those who are skilled "to make the worst appear
+the better cause" might have made such an act of heroism the
+foundation of an interesting, or at least a fashionable novel.
+Poor Victoire had not received an education sufficiently refined to
+enable her to understand these mysteries of sentiment.  She was
+even simple enough to flatter herself that this libertine patriot
+would not fulfil his threats, and that these had been made only
+with a view to terrify her into compliance.  In this opinion,
+however, she found herself mistaken.  M. Tracassier was indeed a
+man of the most decided character, if this form may properly be
+applied to those who act uniformly in consequence of their ruling
+passion.  The Chateau de Fleury was seized as national property.
+Victoire heard this bad news from the old steward, who was turned
+out of the castle, along with his son, the very day after her
+rejection of the proposed conditions.
+
+"I could not have believed that any human creature could be so
+wicked!" exclaimed Victoire, glowing with indignation:  but
+indignation gave way to sorrow.
+
+"And the Chateau de Fleury is really seized?--and you, good old
+man, are turned out of the place where you were born?--and you too,
+Basile?--and Madame de Fleury will never come back again!--and
+perhaps she may be put into prison in a foreign country, and may
+die for want--and I might have prevented all this!"
+
+Unable to shed a tear, Victoire stood in silent consternation,
+whilst Annette explained to the good steward and his son the whole
+transaction.  Basile, who was naturally of an impetuous temper, was
+so transported with indignation, that he would have gone instantly
+with the note from Tracassier to denounce him before the whole
+National Convention, if he had not been restrained by his more
+prudent father.  The old steward represented to him, that as the
+note was neither signed nor written by the hand of Tracassier, no
+proof could be brought home to him, and the attempt to convict one
+of so powerful a party would only bring certain destruction upon
+the accusers.  Besides, such was at this time the general depravity
+of manners, that numbers would keep the guilty in countenance.
+There was no crime which the mask of patriotism could not cover.
+"There is one comfort we have in our misfortunes, which these men
+can never have," said the old man; "when their downfall comes, and
+come it will most certainly, they will not feel as we do, INNOCENT.
+Victoire, look up! and do not give way to despair--all will yet be
+well."
+
+"At all events, you have done what is right--so do not reproach
+yourself," said Basile.  "Everybody--I mean everybody who is good
+for anything--must respect, admire, and love you, Victoire."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+
+"Ne mal cio che v'annoja,
+Quello e vero gioire
+Che nasce da virtude dopo il soffrire."
+
+Basile had not seen without emotion the various instances of
+goodness which Victoire showed during the illness of Sister
+Frances.  Her conduct towards M. Tracassier increased his esteem
+and attachment; but he forbore to declare his affection, because he
+could not, consistently with prudence, or with gratitude to his
+father, think of marrying, now that he was not able to maintain a
+wife and family.  The honest earnings of many years of service had
+been wrested from the old steward at the time the Chateau de Fleury
+was seized, and he now depended on the industry of his son for the
+daily support of his age.  His dependence was just, and not likely
+to be disappointed; for he had given his son an education suitable
+to his condition in life.  Basile was an exact arithmetician, could
+write an excellent hand, and was a ready draughtsman and surveyor.
+To bring these useful talents into action, and to find employment
+for them with men by whom they would be honestly rewarded, was the
+only difficulty--a difficulty which Victoire's brother Maurice soon
+removed.  His reputation as a smith had introduced him, among his
+many customers, to a gentleman of worth and scientific knowledge,
+who was at this time employed to make models and plans of all the
+fortified places in Europe; he was in want of a good clerk and
+draughtsman, of whose integrity he could be secure.  Maurice
+mentioned his friend Basile; and upon inquiry into his character,
+and upon trial of his abilities, he was found suited to the place,
+and was accepted.  By his well-earned salary he supported himself
+and his father; and began, with the sanguine hopes of a young man,
+to flatter himself that he should soon be rich enough to marry, and
+that then he might declare his attachment to Victoire.
+Notwithstanding all his boasted prudence, he had betrayed
+sufficient symptoms of his passion to have rendered a declaration
+unnecessary to any clear-sighted observer:  but Victoire was not
+thinking of conquests; she was wholly occupied with a scheme of
+earning a certain sum of money for her benefactress, who was now,
+as she feared, in want.  All Madame de Fleury's former pupils
+contributed their share to the common stock; and the mantua-maker,
+the confectioner, the servants of different sorts, who had been
+educated at her school, had laid by, during the years of her
+banishment, an annual portion of their wages and savings:  with the
+sum which Victoire now added to the fund, it amounted to ten
+thousand livres.  The person who undertook to carry this money to
+Madame de Fleury, was Francois, her former footman, who had
+procured a pass to go to England as a hairdresser.  The night
+before he set out was a happy night for Victoire, as all her
+companions met, by Madame Feuillot's invitation, at her house; and
+after tea they had the pleasure of packing up the little box, in
+which each, besides the money, sent some token their gratitude, and
+some proof of their ingenuity.  They would with all their hearts
+have sent twice as many souvenirs as Francois could carry.
+
+"D'abord c'est impossible!" cried he, when he saw the box that was
+prepared for him to carry to England:  but his good nature was
+unable to resist the entreaties of each to have her offering
+carried, "which would take up no room."
+
+He departed--arrived safe in England--found out Madame de Fleury,
+who was in real distress, in obscure lodgings at Richmond.  He
+delivered the money, and all the presents of which he had taken
+charge:  but the person to whom she entrusted a letter, in answer
+to Victoire, was not so punctual, or was more unlucky:  for the
+letter never reached her, and she and her companions were long
+uncertain whether their little treasure had been received.  They
+still continued, however, with indefatigable gratitude, to lay by a
+portion of their earnings for their benefactress; and the pleasure
+they had in this perseverance made them more than amends for the
+loss of some little amusements, and for privations to which they
+submitted in consequence of their resolution.
+
+In the meantime, Basile, going on steadily with his employments,
+advanced every day in the favour of his master, and his salary was
+increased in proportion to his abilities and industry; so that he
+thought he could now, without any imprudence, marry.  He consulted
+his father, who approved of his choice; he consulted Maurice as to
+the probability of his being accepted by Victoire; and encouraged
+by both his father and his friend, he was upon the eve of
+addressing himself to Victoire, when he was prevented by a new and
+unforeseen misfortune.  His father was taken up, by an emissary of
+Tracassier's, and brought before one of their revolutionary
+committees, where he was accused of various acts of incivisme.
+Among other things equally criminal, it was proved that one Sunday,
+when he went to see Le Petit Trianon, then a public-house, he
+exclaimed, "C'est ici que le canaille danse, et que les honnetes
+gens pleurent!"
+
+Basile was present at this mock examination of his father--he saw
+him on the point of being dragged to prison--when a hint was given
+that he might save his father by enlisting immediately, and going
+with the army out of France.  Victoire was full in Basile's
+recollection; but there was no other means of saving his father.
+He enlisted, and in twenty-four hours left Paris.
+
+What appear to be the most unfortunate circumstances of life often
+prove ultimately the most advantageous--indeed, those who have
+knowledge, activity, and integrity, can convert the apparent blanks
+in the lottery of fortune into prizes.  Basile was recommended to
+his commanding officer by the gentleman who had lately employed him
+as a clerk; his skill in drawing plans, and in taking rapid surveys
+of the country through which they passed, was extremely useful to
+his general, and his integrity made it safe to trust him as a
+secretary.  His commanding officer, though a brave man, was
+illiterate, and a secretary was to him a necessary of life.  Basile
+was not only useful, but agreeable; without any mean arts, or
+servile adulation, he pleased by simply showing the desire to
+oblige and the ability to serve.
+
+"Diable!" exclaimed the general one day, as he looked at Basile's
+plan of a town which the army was besieging.  "How comes it that
+you are able to do all these things?  But you have a genius for
+this sort of work, apparently."
+
+"No, sir," said Basile, "these things were taught to me when I was
+a child by a good friend."
+
+"A good friend he was, indeed! he did more for you than if he had
+given you a fortune; for, in these times, that might have been soon
+taken from you; but now you have the means of making a fortune for
+yourself."
+
+This observation of the general's, obvious as it may seem, is
+deserving of the serious consideration of those who have children
+of their own to educate, or who have the disposal of money for
+public charities.  In these times no sensible person will venture
+to pronounce that a change of fortune and station may not await the
+highest and the lowest; whether we rise or fall in the scale of
+society, personal qualities and knowledge will be valuable.  Those
+who fall cannot be destitute, and those who rise cannot be
+ridiculous or contemptible, if they have been prepared for their
+fortune by proper education.  In shipwreck those who carry their
+all in their minds are the most secure.
+
+But to return to Basile.  He had sense enough not to make his
+general jealous of him by any unseasonable display of his talents,
+or any officious intrusion of advice, even upon subjects which he
+best understood.
+
+The talents of the warrior and the secretary were in such different
+lines, that there was no danger of competition; and the general,
+finding in his secretary the soul of all the arts, good sense,
+gradually acquired the habit of asking his opinion on every subject
+that came within his department.  It happened that the general
+received orders from the Directory at Paris to take a certain town,
+let it cost what it would, within a given time:  in his perplexity
+he exclaimed before Basile against the unreasonableness of these
+orders, and declared his belief that it was impossible he should
+succeed, and that this was only a scheme of his enemies to prepare
+his ruin.  Basile had attended to the operations of the engineer
+who acted under the general, and perfectly recollected the model of
+the mines of this town, which he had seen when he was employed as
+draughtsman by his Parisian friend.  He remembered that there was
+formerly an old mine that had been stopped up somewhere near the
+place where the engineer was at work; he mentioned in private his
+suspicions to the general, who gave orders in consequence.  The old
+mine was discovered, cleared out, and by these means the town was
+taken the day before the time appointed.  Basile did not arrogate
+to himself any of the glory of this success; he kept his general's
+secret and his confidence.  Upon their return to Paris, after a
+fortunate campaign, the general was more grateful than some others
+have been, perhaps because more room was given by Basile's prudence
+for the exercise of this virtue.
+
+"My friend," said he to Basile, "you have done me a great service
+by your counsel, and a greater still by holding your tongue.  Speak
+now, and tell me freely if there is anything I can do for you.  You
+see, as a victorious general, I have the upper hand amongst these
+fellows--Tracassier's scheme to ruin me missed--whatever I ask will
+at this moment be granted; speak freely, therefore."
+
+Basile asked what he knew Victoire most desired--that Monsieur and
+Madame de Fleury should be struck from the list of emigrants, and
+that their property now in the hands of the nation should be
+restored to them.  The general promised that this should be done.
+A warm contest ensued upon the subject between him and Tracassier,
+but the general stood firm; and Tracassier, enraged, forgot his
+usual cunning, and quarrelling irrevocably with a party now more
+powerful than his own, he and his adherents were driven from that
+station in which they had so long tyrannised.  From being the
+rulers of France, they in a few hours became banished men, or, in
+the phrase of the times, des deportes.
+
+We must not omit to mention the wretched end of Manon.  The man
+with whom she lived perished by the guillotine.  From his splendid
+house she went upon the stage, did not succeed, sank from one
+degree of profligacy to another, and at last died in an hospital.
+
+In the meantime, the order for the restoration of the Fleury
+property, and for permission for the Fleury family to return to
+France, was made out in due form, and Maurice begged to be the
+messenger of these good tidings--he set out for England with the
+order.
+
+Victoire immediately went down to the Chateau de Fleury, to get
+everything in readiness for the reception of the family.
+
+Exiles are expeditious in their return to their native country.
+Victoire had but just time to complete her preparations, when
+Monsieur and Madame de Fleury arrived at Calais.  Victoire had
+assembled all her companions, all Madame de Fleury's former pupils;
+and the hour when she was expected home, they, with the peasants of
+the neighbourhood, were all in their holiday clothes, and,
+according to the custom of the country, singing and dancing.
+Without music and dancing there is no perfect joy in France.  Never
+was fete du village or fete du Seigneur more joyful than this.
+
+The old steward opened the gate, the carriage drove in.  Madame de
+Fleury saw that home which she had little expected evermore to
+behold, but all other thoughts were lost in the pleasure of meeting
+her beloved pupils.
+
+"My children!" cried she, as they crowded round her the moment she
+got out of her carriage--"my dear, GOOD children!"
+
+It was all she could say.  She leaned on Victoire's arm as she went
+into the house, and by degrees recovering from the almost painful
+excess of pleasure, began to enjoy what she yet only confusedly
+felt.
+
+Several of her pupils were so much grown and altered in their
+external appearance, that she could scarcely recollect them till
+they spoke, and then their voices and the expression of their
+countenances brought their childhood fully to her memory.
+Victoire, she thought, was changed the least, and at this she
+rejoiced.
+
+The feeling and intelligent reader will imagine all the pleasure
+that Madame de Fleury enjoyed this day; nor was it merely the
+pleasure of a day.  She heard from all her friends, with prolonged
+satisfaction, repeated accounts of the good conduct of these young
+people during her absence.  She learned with delight how her
+restoration to her country and her fortune had been effected; and
+is it necessary to add, that Victoire consented to marry Basile,
+and that she was suitably portioned, and, what is better still,
+that she was perfectly happy?  Monsieur de Fleury rewarded the
+attachment and good conduct of Maurice by taking him into his
+service, and making him his manager under the old steward at the
+Chateau de Fleury.
+
+On Victoire's wedding-day Madame de Fleury produced all the little
+offerings of gratitude which she had received from her and her
+companions during her exile.  It was now her turn to confer
+favours, and she knew how to confer them both with grace and
+judgment.
+
+"No gratitude in human nature!  No gratitude in the lower classes
+of the people!" cried she; "how much those are mistaken who think
+so!  I wish they could know my history, and the history of these my
+children, and they would acknowledge their error."
+
+
+
+Footnotes:
+
+{1}  "Whom the gods wish to destroy, they first deprive of
+understanding."
+
+
+
+
+
+End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Murad the Unlucky and Other Tales
+
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