198 DEATH IN
to the cottage of Elise’s father.’ It was here that she had determined to seek shelter for a few days, till she was able to go to the distant convent in'which she had been educated, and which she had been assured by the abbess would gladly receive her again.
Vivienne had determined to leave the cha- teau immediately, for her attendants told her that ‘Monsieur le Marquis was expected every hour,” and she would not meet that bold, bad man.
In the lowly cottage of Elise’s parents she was welcomed with tears and blessings; and beneath a peasant’s roof she found a peace and repose she had never known in the proud Chateau de Hautliea. The night brought her gentle, heathful slumbers, and the morning, though it roused her to a remembrance of her grief, bore. with it also a sense of consolation and safety.
When the noonday sun shone brightly, Vivienne sat by her latticed window, leaning her brow against its frame, and listening to the soothing hum. of a spinning-wheel in the adjoining room.» Suddenly the wheel stopped. There was a strange step on the cottage-floor, @ murmur of voices, and Elise entered the room with an excited face.
“Madame,” she cried, ‘‘Monsieur le Marquis is arrived. He wishes to see you. Oh, madame! something has happened! I do not know how to tell you. Will you go and speak to monsieur?”
Vivienne rose, bewildered by the girl’s excitement and incoherence, and hesitatingly advanced to the door. She shrunk from seeing that cold, cruel, insolent face, and yet there seemed no escape.
Near the open door of the cottage, in the blaze of the summer sun, stood a tall figure in the splendid uniform of an officer of high rank.
The marquis! It was Leon! Leon’s brilliant eyes fixed themselves rapturously upon her face. Leon's dear voice called her name in accents he in vain endeavored to render calm and cere- monious; his hand clasped hers, and his lips touched for an instant the fluttering hand he held.
Leon was with her, and she was free! And in spite of her dimmed beauty, and her lost gayety, he loved-her still. Not a word did he utter to assure her of that, but not a word was needed. She knew it by the light in his eyes, and the tender accents of his voice. She comprehended it with greater ease than she did the strange story which accounted for his presence here. She learned at last the one central fact that Philip was dead—killed in a duel, brought on by his own wickedness and folly.
Leon, who had arrived in Paris only a few days before his brother’s death, received the message summoning the Marquis de Hautlicu to the chateau, and then was first informed of the truth concerning the will of the late marquis, and, as his brother’s heir, he succeeded not only to the title, but to the vast estates of Hautlieu.
But Vivienne was destined never again to enter the old chateau. In the dead of night, when she lay sleeping in the cottage, the sky was crimsoned with a great conflagration. From nearly every window of the chateau sudden flames leaped and roared. The new owner of the stately building, sleeping for the first time beneath its roof, was wakened by the crash of falling timbers, and with difficulty escaped, and roused the slumbering servants. Nothing could be done to check the flames—nothing could be saved from the wreck. Of all the beautiful and costly contents of the chateau, not one article escaped destruction save a small casket, which was found lying at a distance from the building, and which, on being opened, was discovered to contain the ‘‘Hautlieu rubies.” It was after- ward conjectured that the chateau was set on fire by Duroc, ‘who was never seen after the death of Philip Saint Evremonde, and who, it was believed, had robbed the chateau of many jewels and other valuables, but in his flight had dropped this single casket.
The chateau sunk into utter ruin, and was never rebuilt; but a beautiful mansion soon rose on a distant portion of the Hautlieu estate, and thither, two years afterward, the young marquis brought his beautiful bride—more beautiful than ever in the light of returning health and happiness, and the dignity of a fine and noble womanhood.
The horrors of the old chateau were almost obliterated from her memory by the two years of tranquil happiness she had rpent in the con- vent, amongst the gentle nuns she had loved in her childhood.
With beauty more wonderful than ever, and with infinitely more winning sweetness and gentleness of character, the young marquise again appeared at court; and the “Hautlieu rubies,” though magnificent as the jewels of an empress, were ornaments less rare and beautiful than the purity and modesty that adorned the wife of Leon, Marquis de Hautlieu.
to the cottage of Elise's father. It was here
that she had determined to seek shelter for a
few days, till she was able to go to the distant
convent in which she had been educated, and
which she had been assured by the abbess
would gladly receive her again.
Vivienne had determined to leave the chateau immediately, for her attendants told her
that "Monsieur le Marquis was expected every
hour," and she would not meet that bold, bad man.
In the lowly cottage of Elise's parents she
was welcomed with tears and blessings ; and
beneath a peasant's roof she found a peace
and repose she had never known in the proud
Chateau de Hautlieu . The night brought her
gentle, heathful slumbers, and the morning,
though it roused her to a remembrance of her
grief, bore with it also a sense of consolation
and safety .
When the noonday sun shone brightly, Vivienne sat by her latticed window, leaning her
brow against its frame, and listening to the
soothing hum of a spinning-wheel in the adjoining room . Suddenly the wheel stopped .
There was a strange step on the cottage- floor,
a murmur of voices, and Elise entered the room
with an excited face.
" Madame, " she cried , " Monsieur le Marquis
is arrived . He wishes to see you . Oh , madame !
something has happened ! I do not know how
to tell you . Will you go and speak to monsieur ?"
Vivienne rose, bewildered by the girl's excitement and incoherence, and hesitatingly advanced to the door. She shrunk from seeing
that cold, cruel, insolent face, and yet there
seemed no escape.
Near the open door of the cottage, in the
blaze of the summer sun, stood a tall figure in
the splendid uniform of an officer of high rank.
The marquis ! It was Leon ! Leon's brilliant
eyes fixed themselves rapturously upon her face.
Leon's dear voice called her name in accents
be in vain endeavored to render calm and ceremonious ; his hand clasped hers, and his lips
touched for an instant the fluttering hand he
held.
Leon was with her, and she was free ! And
in spite of her dimmed beauty, and her lost
gayety, he loved her still. Not a word did he
utter to assure her of that, but not a word was
needed . She knew it by the light in his eyes,
and the tender accents of his voice. She comprehended it with greater ease than she did
the strange story which accounted for his per-
LIFE .
sence here. She learned at last the one central fact that Philip was dead- killed in a duel, brought on by his own wickedness and folly. Leon, who had arrived in Paris only a few days before his brother's death, received the message summoning the Marquis de Hautlieu to the chateau, and then was first informed of the truth concerning the will of the late marquis, and, as his brother's heir, he succeeded not only to the title, but to the vast estates of Hautlieu. But Vivienne was destined never again to enter the old chateau. In the dead of night, when she lay sleeping in the cottage, the sky was crimsoned with a great conflagration . From nearly every window of the chateau sudden flames leaped and roared. The new owner of the stately building, sleeping for the first time beneath its roof, was wakened by the crash of falling timbers, and with difficulty escaped, and roused the slumbering servants. Nothing could be done to check the flames- nothing could be saved from the wreck. Of all the beautiful and costly contents of the chateau, not one article escaped destruction save a small casket, which was found lying at a distance from the building, and which, on being opened, was discovered to contain the " Hautlieu rubies." It was afterward conjectured that the chateau was set on fire by Duroc, who was never seen after the death of Philip Saint Evremonde, and who, it was believed, had robbed the chateau of many jewels and other valuables, but in his flight had dropped this single casket. The chateau sunk into utter ruin, and was never rebuilt ; but a beautiful mansion soon rose on a distant portion of the Hautlieu estate, and thither, two years afterward, the young marquis brought his beautiful bride-more beautiful than ever in the light of returning health and happiness, and the dignity of a fine and noble womanhood. The horrors of the old chateau were almost obliterated from her memory by the two years of tranquil happiness she had spent in the convent, amongst the gentle nuns she had loved in her childhood. With beauty more wonderful than ever, and with infinitely more winning sweetness and gentleness of character, the young marquise again appeared at court ; and the "Hautlieu rubies," though magnificent as the jewels of an empress, were ornaments less rare and beautiful than the purity and modesty that adorned the wife of Leon, Marquis de Hautlieu .
