« PreviousContinue »
"Welcome," he said, "brave comrade! who foughtest so gallantly by my side, and whose loss I have long deplored."
"Welcome, indeed!" echoed Du Plessis; and the interchange of kind words was for some time cordial and uninterrupted.
Gui at length found a hearing for the relation of his escape from Dreux, which he made with his accustomed openness and clearness, and to which his audience listened with the profoundest interest.
They could not, however, forbear from some gentle reproaches for his long silence, which Gui explained in as satisfactory a manner as possible. The conversation then turned on the condition of public affairs, and the hopes of the young man sank at the statement which the Admiral made of the position of the Protestant party. He could not, however, refrain from divulging his scheme with re
gard to his patrimony of St. Flore, and patiently. awaited the reply.
The Admiral shook his head doubtfully.
"You must relinquish that hope," he said; "for the present unfriendly aspect of the Court plainly indicates how little an application such as you propose would be regarded.
But look at mat
ters in another light. Suppose they were favora
ble to our religion, still how vague would be the expectation that Catherine should resign such a possession You know her disposition, -ask yourself is it probable?"
Gui was silent, and his heart died within him; but he was too manly to despond, and, with a great effort, gave his mind to the subject of the conversation which again turned on the approaching outbreak. The Admiral now freely communicated his project, and told him of his anxiety to commit the charge of these important concerns to some faithful, trusty
A cloud passed over the young brow, but he strove youth, was reported in glowing terms to the Queen. manfully against the weakness, and declared himself The Court was now at Monceaux, whither Catherine ready for any undertaking. Mouvans and Du summoned her astrologer, Acevedo, who was leading Plessis remained wih Coligny until long after mid- a life of monastic seclusion in the Louvre. night, and when they departed Gui still continued in the castle to await his commands. It was bitter work to resign his schemes and hopes for the future; and not until he had lifted up his heart to his Heavenly Father, and implored His protection for his beloved Gabrielle, did peace-that blessed answer to true prayer-soothe his distracted breast.
It was with great unwillingness that he obeyed the command; but since the news of Gui's discovery, which Du Plessis had not failed to convey to him, he saw how needful it was to maintain his ground, and to preserve his secret yet more closely.
Meanwhile, Catherine's spies surrounded the Admiral and Condé with Argus eyes, and brought con
It was one consolation to know that re-union, although deferred, was not hopeless, and his thankful spirit rose again in earnest zeal for that cause for which he had berilled his life, and lived as a fugitive even in his own land.
"You," he said, "Du Plessis and Colonel Mouvans, are already acquainted with your part. You, De Viole, have still a station to be assigned, and on you I rely to remain in my vicinity, and to await direct orders Do you agree to this?"
Gabrielle was not blind to the change in her adopted father's manner, and asked him repeatedly the cause of his increased cheerfulness-a thing, indeed, so strange with him, that she could but wonder and rejoice; and when he communicated to the loving girl the tidings he had received of Gui's safety, and the hope that he might once more press his beloved son to his heart, she shared in his joy more deeply than he himself conceived; but it did not escape his notice that at the name of Gui her fair face was suffused with blushes, and her eyes shone with unwonted brightness. He then tried to discover if Gui's true posi
tion were known to her. He mentioned the name of Rabaud as by chance, and he marked that she bent her head to conceal her emotion; and when she had resumed her composure, she asked with a trembling voice after the old Rabaud who had healed her father's wound.
stant news of their proceedings from Auxerre, where the latter was stationed. It was at this time that Catherine heard for the first time for many years the hateful name of De Viole-a name which awoke in her cruel heart the bitterest remembrances, and aroused the passions of hatred which had long lain dormant there. Gui de Viole, moreover, was described as the confidant and favorite of Coligny, as the chosen messenger for the important despatches between the two leaders of the Huguenot party, as well as to Joanna of Navarre, by whom the youth had been most especially and particularly distinguished.
Viole, who now knew sufficient, simply replied that the man still lived in Dauphiny, and hastily changed the subject. A sigh escaped the maiden's breast, but she was silent.
(To be continued.)
The character which he bore, in short, was that of WILL, WIT, AND JUDGMENT.-At twenty years of the most zealous of the defenders of his faith; and age the will reigns-at thirty, the wit-and at forty, the account of his prowess at Dreux, while but a 'the judgment.
P. D ORVIS, Publisher, 130 Fulton street, New York. Monthly Parts, 18% ets. each. Yearly Subscription to either edition $2, in advance. Ten Copies for FIFTEEN DOLLARS.
NEW YORK JOURNAL.
NO. 68. VOL. III.]
MARSHAL DE ST. ARNAUD.
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 21, 1854.
belonged was on duty at Fort de Blaze, where the
Thanks to the energetic resistance given to French domination by the people of Northern Africa, that vast country, almost unknown before France converted it into a theatre of war, has become a most valuable training school for those who wish to acquire military knowledge. In that school all the most distinguished French officers of the present day have been trained, and, without reference to the other benefits which have resulted from the possession of Algeria, it has been of much advantage to France by strengthening and sustaining the military spirit of its army." For nearly twenty years continual warfare was carried on against the numerous tribes which refused to submit to France, and it was in the midst of that long-protracted war that Marshal de Saint Arnaud achieved the high position which he now occupies.
M. de Saint Arnaud was born at Paris, in 1801, of a family not distinguished by fortune. He was young when he entered the army, and, like most of those youths who embraced the military profession during the tranquil reign of Louis XVIII, he gave full play to the love of pleasure and dissipation. During the reign of Charles X. he was for a short time in the body-guard of that monarch; but he shortly after resigned his situation, and went to England, where he resided some time. Soon after the Revolution of 1880 he returned to France, and once more entered the army. It was at this time, while the regiment to which he
[PRICE 4 CENTS
Among the exploits in which he distinguished himself, the most important were the expedition he directed, in 1842, against the unsubdued tribe of Beni-Bondonan, in the west of Milianah; the attack of the Beni-Ferrah tribe in the following year; the defeat of the Flizza-el-Bahr; and the submission of the Cherif Bou Maza who had provoked an insurrection in the Dahra.
Having been appointed to the command of the province of Constantine in 1849, he rapidly overran that immense territory, which had been disorganized by the revolt of the numerous tribes inhabiting it, re-established peace, gaining the good will and attachment of many chiefs whom no one had previously been able to subdue. The expedition which M. de Saint Arnaud undertook in 1851 against the Kabyles was one of the most glorious campaigns ever gained by the French army in Algeria. At the head of an army of little more than 6000 men he overran the whole of that savage and mountainous region, in spite of the resistance made by its warlike tribes.
In 1851, M. de Saint Arnaud returned to France, with the rank of lieutenant-general. His energetic and determined character recommended him to the notice of Louis Napoleon, then President of the Republic, as one of the firmest supporters of his views; and,
in the month of October, 1851, the future Emperor confided to him the confidential post of Minister of War.
In 1852, he was raised to the dignity of Marshal of France, and soon after to that of Senator, which was followed by his appointment to the post of Grand Ecuyer to the emperor.
M. de Saint Arnaud has been twice married.
armies of France. In that corps M. de Saint Ar-
For the Illustrated New York Journal.
IT wasn't exactly an apple, if it was a None-such; he was at untiring pains to adjust to a suitable and
There he sat, I say, loungingly in the chair he had taken, sticking out his varnished leather shoes, and toying his dark moustache with his finger and thumb. His eyes, which, unfortunately for their ample expression, were quite small, seemed to try hard to brighten; but they only made out to twinkle in a phosphorescent sort of way, like very little stars in a very far-off sky. He laughed and smiled, became sober or vivacious, in a briefer time than one would be in the telling of it, and rattled on with his own talk like the light jouncing of a springless wagon over a rough and stony road.
“What b-e-a-u-tiful flowers you've got here, ladies! I've heerd a good deal about 'em, but I've never seen 'em before. Perfectly b-e-a-u-tiful! Perfectly ex-quisite, I do declare!" and he took an instinctive snuff, as if a fresh boquet had just been placed exactly under his nose. "I've been in Mr. Law's garding, over to Milbrook-but perhaps you don't know Mr. Law's folks, though? Very fine family indeed! Several young lady's there. You make me think of 'em very much. I've spent a great deal o' time there. They always want me to be there, you know, when they have company from abroad; they're a kind o' folks that have a good deal o' company, you see. I always arranged the tables for 'em, when they make their big parties. Did when they had a wed'n' there once; but they ha' n't made any parties very lately. Got quite a pretty conservatory over there, too. I sh'd think you'd like to see it. Think you'd like to go over there, ladies. I'm sure I should be very happy to introduce you to the young ladies, as they're particular friends of mine.”
Mary Rivers and her sister Martha were sitting and chatting pleasantly together, one summer afternoon, in the little parlor of their rustic residence, with a newly-arrived friend between them. One was trying to sew, another to embroider some trifling article, and the third was turning over the leaves of a book that was lying in her lap, when the shadow of some person in the open doorway unexpectedly fell across the floor, and an unfamiliar voice gave notice of the presence of an individual for whom they had made no sort of preparation. The sisters had removed only that spring into the country with their father, and hardly knew as yet what kind of calls they might receive from all the region round about.
"Ah, yes! Good afternoon, ladies!" said he, holding his white beaver with an air of affected carelessness in his hand, while he slid with equal carelessness into a convenient chair. "Thought I'd take a short walk, it's such a pleasant day," he went on, wiping his forehead with a white handkerchief that he drew out at enormous length, and with corresponding slowness. "Very warm it is, too. I declare I hardly ever see such changeable weather. But one feels paid for his walk, when he gets out here. What a pretty place you've got up here, to be sure! 'Tis really b-e-a-u-tiful, I declare! No other such a one anywhere round in these parts, I guess. None like it in any of the towns I've ever been in-and I've been in a good many, too. All of you busy this afternoon, I see. Ha ha ha! Ladies always will be doin' somethin'. Never see the like of 'em in all my life. I laugh with some of 'em that I'm acquainted with, here and there about the country, and I tell 'em I don't see what they always find to do, for the life of me; but that don't seem to make no kind o' diff'runce with 'em. They always have kep' busy, and they always will!"
At first, the girls looked up at him in blank astonishment. Then they looked at one another, and afterwards at him again. What to make of it, certainly passed their comprehension. What to do under such novel and peculiar circumstances, no one of them knew. And so they held their peace, from no reason but the overwhelming surprise that made them dumb.
maculate to be sure, yet tied with a skill that he "Oh, well," returned he, not a particle daunted evidently considered more than a compensation for by her pointed reproof, "then I've nothing to say. crumpling and soiling together. His hair was I only thought I'd walk over and call on you, and black, and carefully curled in little ringlets, which look round and see your place a little. I've got so
many acquaintances in the towns here an' there, its
really hard gitting round to 'em; especially, as I
There he sat loungingly in his chair, the picture of easy nonchalance, and as perfectly at home as if he had been living in the house from the day the carpenters delivered up the key, and carried away their tools. His name--if that is of the least additional interest or importance-was Dandelly. Being warm summer weather, he was clad, as he was wont to clothe himself at that season, in a suit of pure white. Pantaloons and coat were white, and so was his vest. About his thick and gross neck he had folded a white cravat-not exactly im
Here he came to the surface to breathe, and again all three of the girls simultaneously lifted their eyes to him. Their faces at the first had been red, possibly with embarrassment. Now they could scarcely refrain from tittering outright in their strange visitors presence.
“Not a great deal acquainted round here yet?" he went on. "Oh, well, time enough left for that. Folks hereabouts ain't very hard to get acquainted with, as you'll most likely find out for yourselves. But I've heerd a good many of 'em say, first an' last, that they'd like to know you all. They think you're ruther distant, I guess. Ha! ha! ha! But I s'pose you don't care what they do think; I should'nt, if I was in your place, I'm sure!"
Mary assured him that they said nothing about such things, and wished to say nothing. She addressed the new visitor quite curtly.
'Really!" satirically exclaimed Mary. "Quite a con-sid-e-ra-tion. Isn't it, sir ?"
He sent his fingers a-rambling through his hair, like frightened chickens, and suffered his eyes to take two or three good little twinkles, that must have given them a vast deal of satisfaction.
Martha and Ellen-the friend who was there on a visit-could not help laughing in each others' faces.
"Yes,-y-e-s," said he, slowly, stroking his glossy moustache a moment and appearing to be a very little ways gone in thought;"little as you'd think it, Mr. Perkins bein' a member o' Congress, and all that, they aint aristocratic folks at all, I can tell you; they're plain people, high up in the world as they happen to be. I like 'em all the more for that; shouldn't you? I don't want anything to do with your stuck-up folks, ha! ha! I don't make no kind o' pretensions myself, and 'taint very pleasant to me to see others do it, I'm sure. Oh, how I wish I was goin' to be in town here for all the summer! but I can't, for I've made an engagement with a friend to meet him in Saratogy pretty soon,-as soon as the season begins. Ever in Saratogy? Never was myself; but I've heerd it was such a beautiful place,-perfectly enchanting,-perfectly delightful! and the company that flocks there, and the parties they have at the great hotels, and the music, and the dances, and waltzes, and all that!
any of you waltz, ladies? I consider I'm something of a chap at that business, myself. Very fond of it, especially if you happen to get hold of an agreeable partner, ha ha! But you'd ought to go to Saratogy, ladies, if you never have been. Havn't you never, none of you?"
"I believe we have all seen the place," answered Mary on behalf of the other two, her lip curling with irony.
"Ah, you have, then! Of course I needn't say anything about it, then? Needn't tell you what
fun, and all that, to be had in the woods, a runnin' without a suspicious and naughty reservation, were round anywhere you want to. Ever attend many wondrously settled and centered in him. He could picnics, ladies? Grand good things, aint they, paint, and he could hang paper as well. A more though! Always have 'em over to Millbrook, 'most skillful hand with a fine cambric needle, with laces, every Fourth o' July. Never enjoyed myself so ribbons, and the like of these things, was not to be dismuch in all my life, as I did the last Fourth. covered but with great difficulty, and after traversing Everybody was there, and there was most every- a large extent of domestic territory. And he seemed thing to eat, too. I helped set the tables. Helped? to be all the time traveling.. How he managed to I had charge of about the whole of 't. Everybody do it, the wisest of people didn't know. Who deadmired 'em, too. And I arranged all the flowers frayed his expenses, was a problem more difficult of jest as tastefully as I could, tulips, and daffies, and solution than were even the brain-perplexing hyeroroses, and geraniums, and hyacinths, and oh! such glyphics on the case of an Egyptian mummy. great white lillies. I wish you could have been over Gliddon himself never could have deciphered it. there; you'd have enjoyed it so much. There was no one whom he did not know, and hardly Mary betrayed symptoms of increasing impa- a spot that he said he had not seen. He was most tience. She found she had met with one indi- happy to converse upon subjects of every nature, vidual, whom neither satire nor menace itself could and no less ready and fluent on abstruse than on drive from his position. A person more perfectly everyday topics. You could not catch him in the at his ease, and more thoroughly indifferent to sati- trap of a surprise; not that he was "too smart" for rical speeches, the whole country round could not everybody, by any means, but because he would not have furnished. Addicted to feminine talk and fem- be surprised. He had no conception of what such inine pursuits, he was ambitious to become distin-a feeling, with the attendant feeling of modesty, guished in no other. Nothing suited him better really was. than to take a half-hour or so, for describing the Whatever might be the uneasiness of the girls, press of a particular young lady at a particular ball, under this unlooked-for infliction, he was not at all soiree, or party. In the enumeration of the long troubled. He had enjoyed nothing more for a long "What kind o' work is that?" he broke out, inde-list of ladies' equipments, embracing those from the time. And still lounging in his chair, and still fatigable as ever, and reaching out his head to get a top of the head to the very tip of the foot, he ener- holding his white beaver carelessly in his hand, he better view. "Oh, its knotting, is it? Very beauti-getically put forth all his mental powers, and re-regarded the persons, the language, and the whole ful work, so soft and delicate for a lady's fingers. appearance of the three female friends with a degree Nothing any purtier 'n knotting. I've got a friend of coolness that was a full match for any effrontery that does a good deal of 't; Miss Burr, a very pareither recorded or known. It was not until Mary ticular friend she is, and a very fine young lady, too. finally left the room, and refused stubbornly to reWish you did but know her, you'd surely be pleased turn, that he suggested he had staid longer than he with the acquaintance. What is that figger you're really intended, and got up to go. workin' at there? P'raps I might give you some help about it. I know somethin' about such things, more'n folks think for. I make ladies' caps too, sometimes. I can make a cap as handy as any woman; do it very of'n; always make Miss Perkins's, trimmin's an' all. She says she don't want no better hand. I guess I could astonish you with my skill at such things.
He assured them he should make another call
I've seen and done there, when I come back again?" He stared at them vacantly, as if they had suddenly risen in his estimation by a jumping bound of at least a hundred feet. "Hope I shall have a good time there, 't any rate. Wish some of you was goin', or all of you. Sh'd like to meet you there, we should have such a nice time of it. Not quite so lovely there as 'tis here, I guess, ha! ha! What do you think of this little town now, ladies? Got use't to it yet? You're pleasantly situated here, I declare. And your garden is fine. How beautiful them flowers smell now, out 'n them beds yonder. What do you pretend to call 'em? Got a man to tend your garden, or do you do it yourselves? Garden work's called very healthy work for ladies, and I s'pose 'tis ; but I don't think its any too clean for their fine soft hands, ha! ha!" and he carelessly spread out and glanced at the backs of his own, which, by-the-bye, hardly held their own by comparison with the whiteness of his linen coat. Mr. Perkins keeps a fine garden, and so do the Laws. They have gard'ners, though, I believe. Everything looks nice and true,-so purty."
Martha hereupon commenced a low conversation with Ellen about some knotting she was engaged
"And then, too, I make vases, and baskets out o' pine-burrs and melon seeds, and boxes o' pasteboard and mosses, and crosses, and pyramids o' shells out o' red putty and little sea-shells, you've seen 'em, I know, and lounges, and ottomans, and crickets, and I guess about everything else. There aint but a little, ladies, that I can't do, ha! ha!"
"You certainly must be a very some families," suggested Mary, drily. "Ah, but, Miss Rivers, that's what I am! There's very few about here 't can beat me very well. I'll take you into Miss Perkins's parlors, she's got two parlors, you see, and I'll show you things that I've made, and that I've fixed, till you'll hardly be willin' to believe me.
velled in the thought that his familiarity with such
"I dare say," returned Mary.
He did not quite comprehend what she meant ; so he followed his usual habit when puzzled, and forthwith sent his fingers on another exploring excursion through his bed of ringlets, and twinkled his eyes at her vacantly. Then he resumed his rattle:
He was nothing but a sort of man-milliner. He was a strange hybrid of a creature, like nothing at all that had ever before been seen The greater pains you were at to show your thorough disgust for him, the more determined he seemed that you should be altogether delighted with him. If you spoke chastising words to him,-words that would drive any ordinary dog from your presence, he at once became sycophantically meek, and held himself ready to lick your hand whenever you should extend
it. How could such a creature be shaken off?
sometime before he left for the Springs, and repeated his wish that they might become acquainted with the many very fine friends to whom he should ever stand ready to introduce them.
DO RATS REASON?-A few evenings since, as the rain was falling in torrents, deluging the little Martha happened to be rather better natured about yard by the house, a large rat was observed to come it. Perhaps she possessed a trifle more of tact in hurriedly out of a hole by the side of the house, getting along with such strangely disagreeable be- where the water was pouring in, and springing forings. She seemed patient with him, even when his ward to an opposite building, for a moment disapThe peared. Back again came the rat, and plunged into presence must have been most offensive. abundance of her native good humor-that blessed the hole, which was fast being filled with water, and gift to mortals-led her rather to enjoy than to dis- in a moment re-appeared, bearing in her mouth a sect and criticise. He offered her a large fund of young rat, which she carried to the opposite buildamusement. It was quite as good as a rare showing. Thus she continued to labor, until five of the for her. So she sat and laughed, sometimes reply-young had been rescued from a watery grave, and ing to the interrogatories of the strange gentleman, deposited in a place of safety; but on coming again and sometimes breaking out with an odd and quiz- from the wall with one of her young in her mouth, zical remark to Ellen, the eyes of both of them the she dropped it down upon the ground, and after while gllstening with nothing in the world but fun looking a moment, again took it up, and trying to wake it, laid it down again. The little one was "Wish the people round here were at all lively. Mr. Dandelly was, by profession Well, he dead. It had been drowned. After repeated efforts Dullest folks I ever did see; jest the dullest. Why really was a little of everything. The peculiar re-to bring to life her offspring, she mournfully left the can't somebody git up a picnic here, once in a great quisites to success in every known human calling, little one, and went to the new home she had prewhile, or somethin' o' that sort? There's so much if his own ingenuous statements were to be received pared for her more fortunate family.
Bidding them good afternoon, he hit his toe against the corner of the outer door, crushed his hat shockingly against the post, scattered his fallendown ringlets over his eyes, and passed out through the gate as carelessly as if that were the way he was in the habit of taking his leave, everywhere he went.
search. When the curd of milk is exposed to the
cheese mould has established itself. Hence the
killed the prophets and stoned the messengers of
Jehovah, and whose house must be therefore left desolate.-Miss Martineau.
THE HOLY LAND.-The pools all round Jerusalem are beautiful; the cool arching rock roof of some, the weed-tufted sides and clear waters of all, are delicious. The pool of Siloam is still pretty-though less so, no doubt, than when the blind man, sent to wash there, opened his eyes on its sacred stream. The fountain of Siloam is more beautiful than the pool. It lies deep in a cave, and must be reached by broad steps which wind down in the shadow. A woman sat to-day in the dim light of reflected sunshine washing linen in the pool. Here it was, that in the days of old the priest came down with his golden pitcher, to draw water for the temple service. We were now in the valley of Jehosaphat; and we crossed the bottom of it, where the brook
Kedron must run when it runs at all; but it seems to be now merely a winter torrent, and never to have been a constant stream. When we had ascended the opposite side of the valley, we were on the Mount of Olives. The ascent was steep,-now among tombs, and now past fields of waving barley, flecked with the shade of olive trees. As we ascended, the opposite hill seemed to rise, and the city to spread. Two horsemen in the valley below, THE PARIS EXHIBITION.-The edifice in the and a woman with a burden on her head, mounting Champs Elysees preparing for the Exposition of to the city by a path up Moriah, looked so surpris- next year is now in a state that some opinion may ingly small as to prove the grandeur of the scenery. be formed of its effects, proportions, and distribuHereabouts it was, as it is said, and may reasonably tion. The leading idea appears to be a vast, oblong be believed, that Jesus mourned over Jerusalem, and central hall-since though the side galleries and told his followers what would become of the noble double aisles are wide, and the former are abundant The beautiful situation of the Castle of Monceaux, city which here rose upon their view, crowning the in the amount of space which they provide, by the dered it a favorite resort of Charles IX., who, eager no less than the riches of its forests in game, rensacred mount, and shining clear against the cloudnature of the composition they are so shut off from in the pursuit of everything which he undertook, less sky. Dwellers in our climate cannot conceive the central portion as in no point of view to be com- gave himself up with entire devotion to the pleaof such a sight as Jerusalem seen from the summit manded by the eye in conjunction with it. This sures of a hunting life. To this life he sacrificed all of the Mount of Olives. The Moab mountains, over separation is on the lower story further aided by the other interests, and was as thoroughly absorbed in it towards the Dead Sea, are dressed in the softest heaviness of the iron-work, which, unless it be as if it had been the great object of his being to hues of purple, lilac, and gray. The hill country to decorated with remarkable skill, bids fair to produce excel in woodcraft. the north is almost gaudy with its contrasts of color: the effect of a wilderness of columns and cross-couraging this taste in her royal son, rejoiced in Catherine, so far from disits white or gray stones, red soil; and crops of vivid beams in deep shadow-so intricate as to destroy any pursuit which, by diverting his mind from the green, But the city is the glory-aloft on the steep all intimation of the area betwixt them and the affairs of government, would leave more power in its long lines of wall clearly defining it to the outer wall. Then, the distribution of light and her own hands. sight, and every minaret and cupola, and almost every stone marked out by the brilliant sunshine shade-or, to speak more exactly, of glare and gloom-may offer difficulties of detail which it will against the deep blue sky. In the spaces unbuilt require as much ingenuity as foresight to cope on within the walls are tufts of verdure; and cy-with. In the central hall-although it is to be presses spring here and there from some convent garden. The green lawns of the Mosque of Omar, are spread out small before the eye, with their groups of tiny gay moving people. If it is now so glorious a place to the eye, what must it have been in the days of its pride! Yet in that day, when every one looked for the exulting blessing" Peace be within thy walls, and prosperity within thy palaces!" there
came instead the lamentation over the Jerusalem that
glazed with ground glass-the affluence of daylight
A NEW HISTORICAL ROMANCE.
FROM THE GERMAN OF HORN.
CHAPTER XII.-PLOTS OF THE QUEEN MOTHER AND
HE Huguenots saw their impending danger, for the ranks of the royal army daily swelled both ready been held, wherein it was concluded to assume at Valery and Chatillon. Several councils had ala posture of defence. During one held at Chatillon, king, who was at that time in the Castle of Mona plan was resolved upon for the capture of the young ceaux, a place ill calculated for defence, in which he was pursuing his favorite diversion of the chase. For this undertaking preparations were now secretly carried on. Gui de Viole was despatched to Plessis the Huguenots relied for an accession to their Mornay, who resided in Picardy, and on whom
Provided with the necessary documents, which were concealed on different parts of his person, Gui quitted Chatillon, and, in company with his servant, commenced a journey of which he could not but auger ill, believing it to be attended not only with personal risk, but that the plot, if carried into execution, would tend yet further to inflame the anger and prejudice of the opposite party.
The Court had already been some time at Monceaux, and still the return to Paris was delayed, as Charles, from early morning till late at night, carried on his darling diversion, often accompanied by the ladies of the Court, who many of them excelled in the unfeminine sport. Margaret of Valois, the King's sister, especially delighted in hunting. Beautiful and gay, in the very spring-time of her existence, adorned with the richest gifts of natural grace, she found it some compensation for the monotony of her life at Monceaux to enter, with the young gallants of her brother's court, into this favorite amusement.
It was towards the close of September that Charles arranged a hunting party of extraordinary magnificence, which was, indeed, to comprise every CHEESE AFTER Dinner.-As a digester, as some member of the royal household. A lovely autumn not inappropriately call it, cheese-that which is day smiled on the festivity; and early in the morndecayed and mouldy being preferred by connoisseurs IMPEDIMENTS TO MATRIMONY.-There are some ing the hunters assembled in the court-yard of the —is often eaten after dinner. The action which legal disabilities for marriage, such as the slight im-castle. The noonday meal was to be taken beneath experience seems to have proved it to possess, in pediment of being married already. Another inca- a costly tent in the forest. The lords and ladies in aiding the digestion of what has previously been pacity is want of reason; but if want of reason really their varied hunting attire formed a gay and anioaten, is both curious and interesting, and has had prevented a marriage from taking place, there would mated spectacle, and the palfreys waited impatiently some light thrown upon it by recent chemical re-be an end to half the matches that are entered into. for the signal of departure, which was only delayed