TO MADEMOISELLE URSULE MIROUET.
“DEAR URSULE,
“I am somewhat of a Breton, and, once my mind is made up, nothing makes me change it. Your guardian, whom may God preserve for a long time yet, is right; but am I then wrong to love you? Therefore do I only wish to know from you whether you love me. Tell me, if only by a sign, and then those four years will be the best of all my life! One of my friends has forwarded a letter to my great-uncle, Vice-Admiral de Kergarouët, in which I ask his influence in order to enter the navy. This good old man, touched by my misfortunes, has answered to say that the king’s free will would be thwarted by the regulations, in case I should desire any rank. Nevertheless, after three months’ study at Toulon, the minister will send me as steerage master; then, after a cruise against the Algerians, with whom we are at war, I can undergo an examination and become a candidate. Finally, if I distinguish myself in the expedition preparing against Algiers, I shall certainly be made a midshipman; but in how long a time? Nobody can say. Only, the regulations will be made as elastic as possible to reinstate the name of Portenduère in the navy. I must only obtain you from your godfather, I see that; and your respect for him makes you still dearer to my heart. Before replying I will have an interview with him; upon his answer depends my whole future. Whatever happens, know that, rich or poor, daughter of a bandmaster, or daughter of a king, you are to me the woman whom the voice of my heart has designated. Dear Ursule, we are living in an age in which the prejudices, which would formerly have separated us, have not sufficient strength to prevent our marriage. And so I send you all the feelings of my heart, and to your uncle the pledges which will assure him of your happiness! He does not know that I loved you more in a few moments than he has loved you for fifteen years.—Till to-night.”
