1831.] a Tale of the Days of Terror. 41 



By a strange chance, I was at this instant recognized by a gentleman 

 who had just joined the party ; and in another moment I was formally 

 introduced to Claudine, and her father, Monsieur de Langeron, the sieur 

 of the village. He had known the elder members of my family well and 

 long ; and an invitation to spend the remainder of the evening at his 

 chateau,, whither he was just retiring with his party, was politely given, 

 and joyfully accepted. His daughter said little ; but that little was 

 so soft and gentle, as soon to dispel my displeasure, and her sweet smile 

 was more expressive than words. Though dancing was renewed in the 

 interior of the mansion, I observed she did not join in the amusement, 

 nor did any one present invite her to do so. I was selfish enough no 

 longer to regret it. Seated by her side, for a time I had nothing more 

 to desire. The moon had replaced the glowing sun, when I recrossed 

 the Seine that night; but though the calm splendour of heaven was 

 unbroken by a single cloud, the tranquillity of my mind was gone. 

 Thenceforward I became a daily visitor at Anniere ; but no one seemed 

 to remark or regard my attentions to Claudine, though we were almost 

 constantly together, and frequently alone. She had no mother ; and an 

 old aunt, her only female companion, unlike most of her age and sex, 

 seemed to entertain not the least suspicion of the consequences of our 

 intercourse. She left us unmolested, to take long walks by the retired 

 banks of the river, and to sit for hours on the terraced garden of the 

 chateau. Such an intimacy added burning fuel to my passion; and as 

 Claudine gradually lost her timidity in my presence, every day dis- 

 closed to me the additional charms of her unsullied mind. 



Though unaware of it herself, it was impossible for me to remain long 

 unconscious that she loved me with all the intensity of a first affection. 

 I never uttered a syllable that I did not meet her glance of approbation ; 

 I never departed that tears did not stand in her eyes, nor was met with- 

 out blushes on my return. Every thought, feeling, hope, and fear of 

 the unfortunate girl, were mine for ever. Selfish even in my love, I 

 saw and exulted in all this before I disclosed the secret of my affection. 

 We were seated on the margin of the river, nearly on the same spot 

 where I landed on the first evening I beheld her, and the sun was shin- 

 ing in the western sky as brightly as then, when I whispered the story 

 of my passion in her ear. Her hand trembled violently in mine as she 

 listened, but in vain did I beseech her to reply to my passionate decla- 

 rations. She gave no answer but by tears. I entreated her by every 

 tender appellation to give me some slight token of her love, but she 

 neither moved nor spoke she even ceased to weep. She did not with- 

 draw her hand from mine, but it grew icy chill, her head drooped upon 

 her bosom, and she fell back lifeless in my arms. 



I was horror-stricken, and it was some time before I recovered suffi- 

 cient presence of mind to lay her gently on the grass, whilst I brought 

 water from the neighbouring river to bathe her hands and forehead. 

 Slowly, and after a long interval, she revived ; but no sooner was she 

 conscious that my encircling arms were around her than she shrunk 

 from me with convulsive horror, and struggled to arise. She was 

 too feeble to accomplish her purpose, and wildly and passionately I 

 detained her, as I entreated her to disclose by what fatal chance I 

 had become the object of her hatred. 



" My hatred, dear Auguste ! would that you were !" she murmured, 

 in almost inaudible accents ; and then fixing her full dark eyes upon me 



M.M. New Series. VOL. XI. No. 61. G 



