oh! let me pass-I must save my promised | forth with terror, bride, whom they are cruelly carrying off. Oh! let me pass." "You are a madman, Thierry; if anybody is really carrying off your intended wife, she shall be pursued, and restored to you; but you must remain at your post; it is at the sacrifice of your life if you quit it. "Oh, leave me, leave me!" replied Thierry. "Do you not see how swiftly they go; already they are out of sight!" Thierry," continued the officer, holding him still more tightly, "if you do not return instantly to your post, I must arrest you." The only answer Thierry returned to this (despair had redoubled his strength) was to knock the officer down. Some soldiers, who had been attracted by the noise, raised the captain, who pointed out to them the fugitive Thierry. "Poor Thierry!" said one of them, drying a tear; it is a great pity; he was a good comrade." CHAP. V. Thierry, notwithstanding, continued his chase after the carriage. At length, the noise of the wheels was heard anew, and he began to perceive it through the gathering darkness; yet one more effort and he would reach it, when his foot came in violent contact with a stone, and he fell, thrown forward by the violence of the shock. He tried in vain, a few moments after, to move his legs, which were paralyzed with the cramp. In terrible agony he seemed as it were rooted to the ground. He must then renounce all hope of regaining Marceline. To this thought of anguish another was united it was that he would be certainly pursued. To escape his pursuers he dragged himself with difficulty to a ditch, where the darkness of the night would prevent his being perceived. A few moments after some mounted dragoons passed, casting here and there scrutinizing glances, but without discovering the object of their search. But poor Thierry had another enemy to combat: it was pain. His torture became intolerable, and he regretted that he had not rather accepted captivity or death. The night advanced; the road at this spot was quite deserted; the cries and groans of the unhappy man were lost in the gloom. At length he heard the roll of a carriage; he resolved, whatever might happen, to implore the pity of those to whom it belonged, and approaching the edge of the ditch, in a voice which combined the whole strength of his despair, he cried, "Stop!" 66 The vehicle seemed petrified. A trembling voice repeated, addressing itself to the coachman, Stop!" and the coachman descended from his box, and threw himself down with his face to the ground. An old man wrapped in furs showed himself at the door, and stammered "Gentlemen, I beg of you do me no injury. Here are twenty louis; I am sorry I have not more to offer your lordships, but I shall perhaps be more fortunate at our next encounter." "Alas!" replied Thierry, half raising himself, "I am not what you think; I am a poor wounded soldier, and implore, for pity's sake, a place in your carriage to return to Paris; my life will be forfeit if I arrive not speedily." During this speech the coachman and his master had had time to examine Thierry, and to be convinced that no danger was to be apprehended from him. The old man replied to his supplication with all the anger of a re-assured coward, who feels himself to have the advantage. "Are you mad, friend? Do you believe that I, Philippe Courcillon, Marquis de Dangeau, have nothing more to do than take care of all the adventurers who lose themselves upon the high road, when I am engaged on the King's service? Is it not enough, think you, to have exposed me to an attack of pleurisy in making me get out of my carriage into the night air?” "Have pity!" repeated Thierry. "cried Dangeau, Sapierre, box, and proceed to Paris." 66 66 remount your "Oh! if you knew how I suffered!" said Thierry. "Well, but," replied the Marquis, "it seems to me that you wear the uniform of the soldiers of the guard! Pardieu, you can tell me, perhaps, if I shall find at Paris or at Versailles one of your comrades, named Thierry." "What do you want with him?" said Thierry, starting. "I would, with all my heart, send him to the infernal regions, so much do I hate him," replied Dangeau; it is impossible for any gentleman to have been more abused than I have been, through this fellow. Two days ago I was obliged, notwithstanding the inclemency of the weather, to set out, in order to obtain his discharge." "Is it possible!" exclaimed Thierry. "At last," continued Dangeau, "I have it; but in my endeavours I have added the finishing stroke of a cold to my habitual cough. The King wills that I should remit this act to a certain Marceline, who lives at Versailles; and I have just been told that she has gone to Paris, where I must follow her at all risks, in obedience to the King's commands. But if I could only meet with this soldier, I think now it would come to the same thing." "Heaven be praised!" ejaculated Thierry, whose very life seemed to hang upon the lips of the Marquis: "it is I who am Thierry; this discharge is my own; the woman of whom you speak is my betrothed. They have carried her off, that she may fall into an infamous snare! In the name of mercy, Monsieur le Marquis, give me a place in your carriage, that we may hasten to Paris, to save and avenge her!" here is your discharge; you are free to go where you please." with any message from him. At length, more dead than alive, she allowed them to convey her to the coach, which was to conduct her to Saint "Ah! how would you have me move from here?" cried Thierry. "I am suffering so dread-Germain-des-Près. fully from cramp that it well nigh maddens me. "If you think proper to have the cramp," replied Dangeau, "I cannot help it; the King did not understand, among all the tribulations he has imposed upon me, that there were cramps to cure. All I can propose to you is to take you back with me to Versailles." "But she is not at Versailles! And if we wait she may perhaps be lost; and think you not that the King will demand from you an honourable account of the security of the young girl for whom he is so deeply interested?" "It is perhaps true," said Dangeau, sighing and trembling at the same time with cold and weakness. "I shall be seriously ill, I am sure; but I must weigh the future. Come, Sapierre, help this man into my carriage! A soldier of the guards in the carriage of the Marquis de Dangeau!" sighed he, as he saw him mount. "Ah! if it were not for the future!" When Thierry was stretched upon the cushions the coachman continued his way. 66 To-morrow morning we will set off in quest of la belle," said the Marquis." "Not until to-morrow!" repeated Thierry, his heart full of anguish. CHAP. VI, Madame Ferrand had been informed by an officious neighbour, that her niece had seen Thierry at Versailles, and that she had gained in this visit new strength to resist her will. She felt persuaded there were no other means of making her obey than by separating her from her accomplice in rebellion, and it was she herself, in concert with Monsieur Duval, who had planned this hasty attack. It was in vain that Marceline, who was continually expecting a message from the King, resisted to the best of her power. In vain had she spoken of the aid which the young monarch lent her; this revelation only served to redouble the anger of Madame Ferrand, who besides felt herself sure of the protection of the Regent. They had conveyed the poor girl to the house of Duval's uncle, where everything was prepared for the accomplishment of the marriage on the following morning, without further delay; they feared to celebrate it at Marly, where the young soldier had too many friends. Marceline at first defended herself courageously against the persecutions by which she was surrounded. During the night Madame Ferrand uselessly employed all her arts of persuasion; but, towards the middle of the following morning, partly through lassitude, partly through terror, the poor girl offered only a weak resistance. A peasant, whom she secretly despatched to Versailles to inform Thierry, had not returned | Suddenly a carriage stopped before the house; a man in uniform alighted from it, and, supported by a servant, advanced with difficulty towards Marceline, who uttered a cry of joy. "Enter the house," said he to Madame Ferrand; I must speak with you." "Well, my brave soldier!" rejoined Duval ironically.. "I am no longer a soldier," said Thierry; "and woe be to those who shall force me again to draw a sword.” "Send this lame fellow to the hospital,” cried Duval. "Come, mother-in-law." "A moment," said Monsieur de Dangeau, in a hoarse voice, as he alighted in his turn from the carriage. At the sight of him Duval gave an involuntary start, stopped, and at a sign from the Marquis, everybody re-entered the house. Dangeau, who, notwithstanding the increase of his cold, had resolved to make a last effort in favour of the King's protégée, witnessed to all the great interest that the young Louis XV. took in the union of Marceline and Thierry. Madame Ferrand, affrighted, consented, unmindful of the representations of Duval, to wait for the present without concluding anything. "At length," replied Dangeau, wiping the perspiration from his forehead, "you are going to be happy, and I am going to take some repose. I really believe that if it were to gain the cordon of an order, I would not step outside of my door until I was thoroughly and completely restored to health. At this moment a domestic entered hastily. "Monsieur le Marquis," said he, "a very pressing letter has arrived for you from Versailles.' "Allons," cried the Marquis, "the King is ill; I must return instantly to Versailles. If I were not among the first to make inquiries respecting him, it would be all over with my future prospects." And descending as precipitately as the dropsy would allow him, he threw himself into the carriage. "The King ill!" exclaimed Marceline; "we are deprived of our only protector. Fortunately you have your discharge, Thierry. "You are not yet married," rejoined Duval, jeeringly; "and in the mean time recollect you are in my house." "I do not forget it," replied Marceline. "Aunt, let us return to our own home, and take this poor Thierry with us into the country, as he is now free." Madame Ferrand mechanically followed Marceline, who supported Thierry. Arrived at the door, they found posted there a detachment of dragoons. "Thierry," said the commander, "we arrest you, for deserting your post and striking an officer. You will appear to-morrow before a court-martial," "But he is no longer a soldier," cried Marceline. "He has his discharge." "Yes, now," replied the dragoon; "but he had it not when the offence was committed, and nothing can prevent justice from taking its course. Mademoiselle," added he, turning towards Marceline, "it is doubtlessly to you we should return this billet, brought this morning by a peasant to Thierry's barrack, and which has enabled us to track our prisoner." "Ah! it is I who have been the cause of this," murmured the wretched girl. "I told you," exclaimed Duval, triumphantly, "that you were not yet married." CHAP. VII. "But, oh! reflect," implored Marceline, "a man's life is at stake. In a few hours he must perish! The King himself will thank you for having saved Thierry; he will never pardon you, if you neglect to warn him of his danger." The Marquis de Dangeau appeared shaken for a moment; he even made a few steps towards the royal apartment; but all at once he drew back, as if the spectre of etiquette had risen before him. “No,” said he; "enter the King's presence without permission? I can never do it !" "Oh, Heavens!" murmured the miserable Marceline, " must he then be left to die?" At this moment one of the King's valets approached the Marquis. The King has seen you from the window, Monsieur le Marquis," said he; "and has ordered me to conduct you to him, as well as this young girl, by the secret staircase. "Ah! we are saved! My God, thou hast heard me," said Marceline, fervently. Two days after the events recorded in the last chapter, the Marquis de Dangeau, still suffering severely from cold, had risen early in the morning to inquire after the health of the young King, She swiftly followed the steps of the valet, who, although convalescent, was not permitted leaving very far behind her the Marquis de Danto see any one. He was returning to his apart-geau, to whom there belonged no youthful attriments in Versailles, when, as he was traversing bute, excepting always his courtier-like zeal, the court-yard, he felt his arm gently touched, and turning, beheld Marceline pale, full of anguish, and scarcely able to support herself, "Monsieur le Marquis," cried she, "you who have been so good to us, save us yet again. Oh! save Thierry, who is condemned to death." "Still this unhappy Thierry !" repeated Dangeau; "he has then sworn never to leave me a moment's repose! It is true that the King is deeply interested for him. Well, at some future time I will again speak to his Majesty in his behalf." "What," exclaimed the young monarch, when the weeping Marceline had recounted all; "they know that I regard this soldier, and yet they are going to put him to death; but it shall not be. I will write and send my letter to the place of execution. "They would not recognize your signature, sire; that of the Regent alone is affixed to all government acts, and he is at Paris. A letter would not save Thierry." "Oh! what shall I do?" cried Louis; "let me see! let me see! Take courage, Marceline," said he to the unhappy girl; "perhaps we shall yet find some means.' "But you forget, sire, that at this moment they are loading the guns which are to kill him!" “But at some future time it will be useless; it is this very day, within three hours, that they will shoot him. He has been condemned by a court-martial: I have not been able to reach the King, and the infamous Duval has gone back to the Regent, expressly to render "Can it be?" said the King; "what shall I vain all the supplications I intended to have do? Ah! I have just thought. Monsieur de made to his master. Monsieur le Marquis, in Fleury, my preceptor, told me that the presence the name of Heaven, save him-O save him!" of a King on the place of execution—yes, that is "And how would you that I should save him, | it. Oh! if I do but arrive in time, they shall if the Regent will not do it, and the King is in-kill me sooner than he shall die! My furred visible? Besides, his Majesty could do nothing pelisse, and my carriage !" added he, addressing more for him." himself to the valet who stood near him. "Oh, yes! the King can do anything. He loves me, and he well knows that I shall die if Thierry does; he would not let them kill his little Marceline. Oh! you are a marquis, you are also the friend of the King; you are known at court; you have the right of forcing your way to the King's presence, and, if need be, of violating etiquette. "Violate etiquette!" cried Monsieur de Dangeau, with an accent in which horror was mingled with indignation-"violate etiquette! force my way into the King's presence! It would be a crime, it would be high treason! Even if my future fortune depended upon it, there should never be the example of such audacity in the history of the Dangeaus!" "It is very cold, and the physician does not think that your Majesty can yet leave your apartment without danger." 66 We will go down the secret staircase,” replied the King; "no one will see us, and it can be said that I am in bed, and that I will receive no one." "But, sire," said the valet, "should any misfortune happen to you, I am lost." "Then,' said the King, "I will have you hanged, to a certainty, if you do not obey me. And if you obey, see, here are fifty louis, which I have had given me for my own pleasures; take them, and I promise you as many more." The valet departed, and a moment after"Sire," said he, re-entering, "a carriage To the south-west of Paris extends a naked and lonely tract of land, which still preserves the name of plain, although covered with guinguettes and houses. This desolate spot has been consecrated for more than a century to military executions. The unhappy beings who perish there can see "les Invalides" from the place of punishment, and contemplate, on the brink of the tomb, the asylum which seemed to have been promised to them in their old age. There, on a cold winter's morning, stopped at the same time a file of Fusiliers and a carriage. The file range themselves in order of battle, and Thierry, leaning on a stick, alighted from the carriage. He was calm; all his mental agony had been exhausted during the two preceding days. He went forward, unassisted, to place himself in front of the file. "If I walk unsteadily," said he to his comrades, as he passed before them, "it is that my leg fails me, and not my heart." They were all more mournful and sorrowful than Thierry, for their severe discipline required of them that day a cruel task. They only recognized in it the right of making themselves its martyrs, and now it bade them become executioners. The morning was cold and dull; the ground was hard and dry; the sky charged with thick and heavy clouds. Thierry calmly received the priest's last exhortations. He solicited the honour of being allowed himself to give the signal for firing, and he refused to have a bandage placed over his eyes. Suddenly a ray of sunlight pierced through the clouds, and played round the form of Thierry; sunlight-that living emblem of hope and life, that eternal youth of nature. As he felt its gentle warmth, Thierry's courage for a moment melted away; all the love of life, with its hopes and joys, awoke with thrilling power. Some tears fell: then casting his eyes upon his uniform, he blushed for his weakness. "Oh! it will be better to have the bandage!" cried he; 66 cover my eyes, that I may not behold the brilliant sun." A handkerchief was placed over his eyes, and the officer gave the word of command. 66 Captain," said a drummer, "I see a young woman running towards us; she waves her hand. Do you not hear? she cries, Pardon!" A shudder passed through the ranks, and all the soldiers seemed silently to demand some delay. This man is condemned," replied the officer, "the Regent has refused to pardon him; this young girl can do nothing-so be prompt, before the condemned has seen her-fire!" The guns were instantly discharged; but Thierry fell not; he remained standing, still leaning on his cane: it was Marceline. The poor girl, as they approached, found that the carriage went too slowly; she threw herself from it, and although much hurt by the fall, she had flown towards Thierry. At the firing of the guns she fell, trembling and fainting, å few paces from the fatal spot. "I am not wounded," said Thierry, who, fortunately for his courage, had neither seen nor heard Marceline, concealed by the soldiers. "What does this mean?" said the captain, turning towards the men. All remained silent : to give time for the realization of their hopes, they had fired above the condemned. They had all said mentally, without premeditation, that the minute employed in reloading their guns might perhaps render them useless altogether. "A carriage! a carriage!" they cried from all parts. The King approached; and a valet, who had alighted, raised Marceline. The carriage stopped at the place of execution, and a sweet child descended quickly. "Stop!" cried he; "I forbid any one to touch that man!" "Who are you, then?" demanded the officer, who could hardly believe it to be the King, even after he had recognized him. "I am Louis XV., King of France and Navarre !" "Who will prove it to us?" "But the Lord Regent has rejected all supplications in favour of this man. "The Regent is Regent only, I am the King," rejoined the child, with an expressive air of sublimity; "I command that this poor Thierry be instantly liberated." Monsieur Dangeau alighted from the carriage, and trembling with cold, attested the identity of the monarch; but the officer still hesitated to deliver his prisoner, when another coach drove rapidly up. In this were the Abbé de Fleury, and some gentlemen attached to the King's suite. They had ascertained the departure of Louis, and, in great anxiety, had quickly followed him. "Ah, Sire! what imprudence!" cried Fleury, embracing his pupil with emotion—“ you who were still suffering so severely!" "I am not suffering now," said the King; I arrived in time. But where is my poor Marceline ?" Marceline, whom they had conveyed to the King's carriage, regained her senses. She was brought near Louis, who, beckoning to Thierry, confounded with so much happiness, placed her hand in his, with comic gravity. "My children," said he, "I unite you. And now," added he, placing his hand on his stomach, "I feel that the air has made me very hungry: Monsieur de Dangeau, go and fetch me a cake." He re-entered the carriage amid the benedictions of Thierry and Marceline, and cries of "Vive le Roi !" which resounded on all sides, both from soldiers and people. "Sire," said the Abbé, "to-day you have shown that, notwithstanding your tender age, you are really King of France. An act of clemency is a first anointing." Buds and garlands I can give thee, Love be witness, love be witnessThese to give thee are not mine. 'Neath my touch, the constant lute To all other fair but one Grows upon the instant mute, Songless, silent, mute and silent, And denies its gentle tone. Only for Irene's sake Prompt and ready pours the strainEcho with her name to wake, Fair Irene, sweet Irene, O'er and o'er and o'er again! SLAND E R. |