"What says mademoiselle?" inquired the Pêré, as she spoke in English. I translated her remark, when he broke in "Oh, you must comply; it's only a formality, but still every one does it." "Come, come,” said I, in English; "indulge the old man; he is evidently bent on this whim, and let us not leave him disappointed." "Be it so, then," said she; "on your head, Mr. O'Leary, be the whole of this day's indiscretion;" and so saying she took the pen and wrote her name, "Laura Alicia Muddleton." "Now, then, for my turn," said I, advancing; but the Pêré took the pen from her fingers, and proceeded carefully to dry the writing with a scrap of blotting paper. "On this side, monsieur," said he, turning over the page; "we do the whole affair in orderly fashion, you see; put your name there, with the date, and the day of the week." "Will that do?" said I, as I pushed over the book towards him, where certainly the least imposing specimen of calligraphy the volume contained, now stood confessed. "What a droll name," said the priest, as he peered at it through his spectacles. "How do you pronounce it ?" While I endeavoured to indoctrinate the father into the mystery of my Irish appellation, the maire and the mayoress had both appended their signatures on either page. "Well, I suppose now we may depart at last," said Laura; “it's getting very late." "Yes," said I aloud; "we must take the road now; there is nothing more, I fancy, Pêre José ?" "Yes; but there is, though," said he laughing But at the same moment the galloping of horses and the crash of wheels were heard without, and a carriage drew up in the street-down went the steps with a crash-several people rushed along the little gallery till the very house shook with their tread. The door of the salon was now banged wide, and in rushed Colonel Muddleton, followed by the count, the abbé, and an elderly lady. "Where is he?"-"Where is she?"-"Where is he?"_" Where is she?"—" Where are they?" screamed they in confusion, one after the other. "Laura, Laura," cried the old colonel, clasping his daughter in his arms, "I didn't expect this from you." "Monsieur O'Leary, vous etes un Before the count could finish, the abbé interposed between us, and said: "No, no! Everything may be arranged. Tell me, in one word, is it over ?" "Is what over ?" said I, in a state two degrees worse than insanity; 'Is what over?" "Are you married ?" whispered he. "No: bless your heart-never thought of it." "Oh the wretch!" screamed the old lady, and went off into strong kickings on the sofa. "It's a bad affair," said the abbé, in a low voice; "take my advicepropose to marry her at once." "Yes, parbleu !" said the little count, twisting his moustaches in a fierce manner; "there is but one road to take here." Now, though unquestionably but half an hour before, when seated beside the lovely Laura in the garden of the chateau, such a thought would have filled me with delight, now, the same proposition, accompanied by a threat, stirred up all my indignation and resistance. "Not on compulsion," said Sir John; and truly there was reason in the speech. But, indeed, before I could reply, the attentions of all were drawn towards Laura herself, who from laughing violently at first, had now become hysterical, and continued to laugh and cry at intervals; and, as the old lady continued her manipulations with a candlestick on an oak table near, while the colonel shouted for various unattainable remedies at the top of his voice, the scene was anything but decorous, the abbé, who alone seemed to preserve his sanity, having as much as he could do to prevent the little count from strangling me with his own hands-such, at least, his violent gestures seemed to indicate. As for the priest, and the maire, and the she maire, they had all fled long before. There appeared now but one course for me, which was to fly also. There was no knowing what intemperance the count might not commit, under his present excitement. It was clear they were all labouring under a delusion, which nothing at the present' moment could dispel. A nod from the abbé and a motion towards the open door decided my wavering resolution. I rushed out, over the gallery, and down the road, not knowing whither, nor caring. I might as well try to chronicle the sensations of my raving intellect, in my first fever of boyhood, as convey any notion of what passed through my brain for the next two hours. I sat on a rock beside the river, vainly endeavouring to collect my scattered thoughts, which only presented to me a vast chaos of a wood and a crusader, a priest and a lady, veal cutlets and music, a big book, an old lady in fits, and a man in sky-blue stockings. The rolling of a carriage with four horses, near me, aroused me for a second, but I could not well say why, and all was again still, and I sat there alone. "He must be somewhere near this," said a voice, as I heard the tread of footsteps approaching: "this is his hat. Ah, here he is!" At the same moment the abbé stood beside me. 66 "Come along, now; don't stay here in the cold," said he, taking me by the arm. They're all gone home two hours ago. I have remained to ride back the nag in the morning. I followed without a word. "Ma foi !" said he, "it is the first occasion in my life where I could not see my way through a difficulty. What, in heaven's name, were you about? What was your plan?" "Give me half an hour in peace," said I, "and if I'm not deranged before it's over, I'll tell you." The abbé complied, and I fulfilled my promise-though, in good sooth the shouts of laughter with which he received my story caused many an interruption. When I had finished, he began and leisurely proceeded to inform me that Bouvigne's great celebrity was as a place for run-a-way couples to get married; that the inn of the Golden Fleece was known over the whole kingdom, and the Pêre José's reputation wide as the archbishop of Ghent's; and as to the phrase, "sous la Cheminée," it is only applied to a clandestine marriage, which is called a "Marriage sous la Cheminée." "Now I," continued he, "can readily believe every word you've told me, yet there's not another person in Rochepied would credit a syllable of it. Never hope for an explanation. In fact, before you were listened to, there are at least two duels to fight-the colonel first, and then D'Espagne. I know Laura well-she'll let the affair have all its eclat before she will say a word about it; and in fact, your executors may be able to clear your character-you'll never do so, in your lifetime. Don't go back there," said the abbé," at least for the present." "I'll never set eyes on one of them," cried I, in desperation; "I'm nigh deranged as it is-the memory of this confounded affair "Will make you laugh yet," said the abbé. "And now good-night, or rather good-by-I start early to-morrow morning, and we may not meet again." He promised to forward my effects to Dinant, and we parted. "Monsieur will have a single bed," said the housemaid, in answer to my summons. "Yes," said I, with a muttering, I fear very like an oath. Morning broke in through the half-closed curtains, with the song of birds, and the ripple of the gentle river. A balmy air stirred the leaves, and the sweet valley lay in all its peaceful beauty before me. "Well, well," said I, rubbing my eyes, "it was a queer adventure; and there's no saying what might have happened had they been only ten minutes later. I'd give a Napoleon to know what Laura thinks of it now. But I must not delay here-the very villagers will laugh at me." I eat my breakfast rapidly, and called for my bill. The sum was a mere trifle, and I was just adding something to it, when a knock came to the door. "Come in," said I, and the Pêre entered. "How sadly unfortunate," began he, when I interrupted him at once, by assuring him of his mistake; that we were no run-a-way couple at all, had not the most remote idea of being married, and in fact owed our whole disagreeable adventure to his ridiculous misconception. "It's very well to say that now," growled out the Pêre, in a very different accent from his former one. "You may pretend what you like, but," and he spoke in a determined tone, "you'll pay my bill." "Your bill," said I, waxing wroth. "What have I had from you— how am I your debtor? I should like to hear." "And you shall," said he, drawing forth a long document from a pocket in his cassock. "Here it is." He handed me the paper, of which the following is an accurate copy :— Noces de Mi Lord O'Leary et Mademoiselle Mi Ladi de Muddleton. Francs. Sous. Two conversations-preliminary, admonitory, and consolatory 10 O 3 0 5 0 Guide to the Chateau, with details artistic, and antiquarian 12 Eight Children with flowers, at half a franc each Fees at the Chateau Chorus of Virgins, at one franc per virgin 2 0 10 0 Roses for Virgins M. le Maire et Madame "en grande tenue" 2 10 1 0 Book of Registry, setting forth the date of the Marriage "The devil take it," said I; "it was no marriage at all." "Yes, but it was though," said he. take care of your wife." "It's your own fault if you can't The noise of his reply brought the host and hostess to the scene of action; and though I resisted manfully for a time, there was no use in prolonging a hopeless contest, and with a melancholy sigh, I disbursed my wedding expenses, and with a hearty malediction on Bouvigne, its chateau-its inn-its Pêre-its maire-and its virgins-I took the road towards Namur, and never lifted my head, till I had left the place miles behind me. THE LOVERS OF MONTMORENCY. LES AMANS DE MONTMORENCY. TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF COUNT ALfred de VIGNY, Ye spirits who know all, were they unhappy, White walls, and most dark groves, and deep green lakes, She saw all this, and it seemed made for her. She was a child, and sported like a child, Loving, and proud, and lovely; and 'twas thus They went on foot till they reached Montmorency. They passed two days of love and harmony, They lay them down to sleep-their souls abandoned They went forth, led by chance, unbound by hours, So gazing always, leaving chanted airs To die, and sudden paused as if enchanted; For ecstacy had dazzled at the last Their souls, as flame doth dazzle our eye Shaken, they staggered, and the third eve come, Saving their own eyes' mutual fires and nature Around the brows beloved, behind the hair, Those dark and blue eyes saw traced in each other. Or be extinguished—they but saw the light Accompanied their own, which said—“ I love thee." And yet, it was to die those two came there- Happy, if neither murmured at his pain, And live, and fly from whom he was to follow; Long cries and deep sobs and shrieks sharp tho' soft, For a light sorrow; but, by death forced forth, On the poor walls A madman's verses, lacking rhyme and metre ; |