<h4>CHAPTER XXXII.</h4>
<br/>
<p>When I again awoke it was night, but the darkness was not disagreeable
to me. I was easier in bodily sensation than I had been in the
morning; and I pleased myself with calling to mind every gentle word
which my beloved Helen had spoken, with conjuring up again every sweet
look, and dreaming over that fond devoted affection which, in the
midst of the sorrows and uncomforts that surrounded me, was like some
guiding star to a voyager on the inhospitable ocean. But then came the
idea of seeing her father; and I thought, even if she could convince
him of my innocence, how could I clasp his hand with that which had
slain his child. I remembered my feelings towards him when, entirely
abandoning his sweet child to the care of my mother, he seemed to have
resigned all his paternal rights, and it had been only my respect for
Helen which had saved him from my unconcealed contempt.--I remembered,
too, his long nourished dislike towards me, and I asked myself whether
he would feel it less now, that he could not but suspect me of the
death of his son.</p>
<p>Yet still his pride might be gratified to ally his child to the house
of Bigorre, and to see his descendants attached to that noble class to
which he could not himself aspire. But then again, if he had really
accumulated so much wealth, as the conversation I had overheard had
intimated, he could easily match his daughter, with so rich a dower of
beauty as well as gold, amongst families as noble as my own, where no
such fearful objections existed as that which interposed between Helen
and myself. What needed I more? The weak youth, of whose passion for
her I had been made an unwitting confidant, with evidently high-birth
and proud connections, stood ready to unite himself to the daughter of
the low procureur of Lourdes, and give her that rank and station which
I doubted not that Arnault coveted. Helen, I was sure, would never
consent; and yet I teased myself with the dread, fancying all that
perseverance and the persuasions and commands of a parent might do
against an almost hopeless love.</p>
<p>While I thus alternately solaced myself with dwelling upon all the
sweetness, the beauty, the affection of her I loved, and tormenting
myself with imagining all that might separate us; epitomising in one
short hour the many fluctuating hopes and fears of a long human life;
to my surprise the darkness became less opaque, and by the grey which
gradually mingled with the black, I found that morning was
imperceptibly stealing upon night, so that my slumber must have lasted
more than twenty hours.</p>
<p>But a still greater surprise awaited me. Gradually as the day dawned,
one object after another struck me as resembling the furniture of the
little room which I had tenanted ever since I quitted the inn after my
arrival in Paris. Was I dreaming still? or had I dreamed? I asked
myself. Had all I had seen during the last two days been but a
delusion, or was I still labouring under some deception of my
imagination? But no! with the clear daylight it became evident that I
was there--in the little chamber I had hired in the Rue des Prêtres
St. Paul. There was the carved scrutoire, with its thousand grotesque
heads; there the old table which had acknowledged more than one
dynasty; there lay my clothes, my hat, my sword, as if I had left them
there on going to bed the night before; and nothing served to show
that the whole I have lately described was not a dream, except the
bruises on my shoulder and side, which smacked somewhat painfully of
reality. In about an hour afterwards, my good landlady came in, to ask
if I wanted anything; and from her I learned that I had been brought
home on a litter still sound asleep, by some persons she did not know,
who told her I had met with an accident, and bade her take great care
of me, enforcing their injunction with a piece of gold.</p>
<p>This was an effort of liberality on the part of Arnault which I had
not expected, either from his own character, which was notedly
avaricious, or from the general rule of nature, that the long habit of
accumulating small sums narrows the heart and leaves no room for any
generous feeling. I began to believe that I had been mistaken in his
character, and I tried, fondly, to persuade myself with a theory as
fallacious as any other of those fallacious things, theories, that the
father of so noble-spirited a girl as Helen, whose whole soul was
liberality, and her every thought a feeling, must, in some degree,
partake of the same nature, and possess hidden qualities which, when
called into action, would shine out and assert their kindred.</p>
<p>My good landlady, in common with all old women, had a strange
prejudice in favour of keeping those she looked upon as sick in bed;
but in spite of all her persuasions, I got up and dressed myself. My
first care was to examine what money I had left after the sad
dilapidation which the gaming-table had effected on my purse, though,
indeed, I expected to find that the tender-hearted gentleman who had
thrown me out of the window had charitably taken care that the few
crowns which had remained in my pocket should not weigh me down in my
descent.</p>
<p>My own purse, indeed, was gone; but in its place, to my no small
surprise, I found one containing a hundred louis d'ors. This, of
course, had come from Arnault, though how he came to know that I stood
in need of such supply I could not divine. For some time I remained
undetermined whether I should make use of the sum or not. Pride
whispered that Arnault had removed me from the neighbourhood of his
daughter, possibly to marry her to some one else; and should I then,
accept the vile roturier's bounty--his charity! At the same time
necessity urged that I had nothing but that for the daily wants of
life; that if I hoped ever to discover Helen's dwelling in that great
city, and having done so, never again to lose sight of her, I must
have the aid of that talismanic metal, whose touch discovers, and
secures, and perfects everything.</p>
<p>But a moment's reflection made me regard the question with better
feelings; Arnault had removed me from his daughter--true! but it was
because he believed me to be the murderer of his son; and he was
therefore justified in doing so. He had placed the money where I found
it, probably not out of charity, for he knew that I could easily repay
it ultimately, but to relieve me from a temporary necessity. There was
yet another supposition--perhaps Helen had placed it there herself.
Pride between me and Helen was out of the question; and there was
something so sweet in the very idea of following her wishes, even
though she knew it not, that I should have looked upon hesitation
after that supposition crossed my mind as the meanest of vanities. I
determined then to make use of the money thus placed at my disposal,
and to reimburse the donor, if Arnault, at a future period--if Helen
had been the giver, to repay her whenever I could discover her abode
by telling her I had used it well.</p>
<p>The effort of dressing had caused me a great deal of pain; and while I
sat down to rest myself afterwards, I sent a boy to inquire at my inn
in the <i>Rue du Prouvaires</i>, whether my little friend Achilles had
appeared there during my absence. In about an hour I heard the rush of
feet galloping up the stairs, with the rapidity of joy; the door flew
open, and in rushed Achilles--but no longer the Achilles I had left
him. The smart Spanish dress of which he had possessed himself at
Barcelona was gone. The hat, the plume, the sword, had given way to
all the external signs of poverty and want. His head was as bare as
when he came into the world; and his shoulders were covered with a
grey gown which had once belonged to a monk. The fashion of it,
indeed, had been somewhat altered, for the cowl had been made
serviceable in patching several momentous rents, which might otherwise
have exposed the little man's person somewhat more than decency
permitted.</p>
<p>"Well, Achilles," said I, when, the first transport of his joy at
finding me having passed away, I could find an opportunity of
speaking, "you seem to have been engaged in traffic since I saw you,
and not to have gained upon the exchange."</p>
<p>"Oh, you will pardon me, monseigneur!" replied he, grinning as merrily
as ever, "I have gained a vast fund of experience. I know that is a
sort of commodity the returns upon which are slow, but they are very
sure; and I will try to make the most of it."</p>
<p>"But from what I see," rejoined I, with somewhat, I am afraid, of a
cynical sneer at the light-heartedness which I could not myself
acquire, "I am afraid you paid very dear for your bargain."</p>
<p>"Not cheap, I confess," replied he: "somewhere about three hundred
pistoles, a good suit, a dozen of shirts, and a whipping through the
streets of Lyons--that is all."</p>
<p>"A whipping!" cried I; "that is a part of the account I did not reckon
upon, and not one of the most pleasant, I should conceive. But come,
Achilles, let us hear your story. It must be somewhat curious."</p>
<p>"Not very," answered Achilles; "but it is short, which is something in
favour of a story. After your lordship's departure, I embarked in the
boat for Lyons, as soon as it thought fit to sail, and we began our
long slow voyage up the river, which at first was very tedious. Soon,
however, I hit upon a way of amusing myself; for, seeing a respectable
old merchant of Lyons with a young lady, whom I took to be his
daughter, I went up and introduced myself to them as Monsieur le Comte
de Grilmagnac; told them that, preferring the easy gliding motion of
the river to the rumbling of a carriage, or the jolting of a horse, I
had sent my equipage and servants by land, and instantly began to make
love to the daughter.</p>
<p>"The old gentleman seemed so uneasy at the advances that I made in her
favour, that I began to fear he suspected me; and to do away all
doubt, when we stopped to dine, I took a handful of gold out of my
pocket, and asked what was to pay, with the air of a prince. The young
lady seemed ravished with the sight of the gold pieces; but my old
merchant grew more uneasy than ever, and always got between me and the
young lady when I wanted to speak with her, so that I began to grow
suspicious in my turn, and to doubt whether the tie between them was
not somewhat more tender than the relationship. This doubt induced me
to watch the pair more diligently than ever; for she was as beautiful
a girl as ever your worship set your worshipful eyes upon, and the old
gentleman as venerable an old piece of withered bamboo as ever fell
into sin in his dotage; so you may easily conceive I could not bear to
see such a rosebud withering upon such a desert.</p>
<p>"Well, this went on with various success till we arrived at Lyons, and
I cannot say my fair Phillis was at all inclined to second her
guardian's efforts to repulse me; so that we had time to arrange that
I should go to the <i>auberge</i> of the <i>Lion d'or</i>, on our
disembarkation, and there wait a note from my fair enslaver. To the
<i>Lion d'or</i> I went, and soon received a summons to fly to my charmer,
whom I found, as her <i>billet-doux</i> intimated, waiting for me in a very
respectable lodging in the Rue St. Pierre.</p>
<p>"Here--her face half in tears, half in smiles, like the opening of an
April morning--she told me that she had now no friend but me; for that
her cruel tyrant, the instant of their arrival, had commanded her to
abandon me for ever. This the passion I had inspired her with would
not permit; and being too frank, she said, to deceive any one, she had
at once refused. A quarrel ensued--he had cast her off penniless; and
though she could instantly fly to the Baron d'Ecumoir, or the Marquis
de la Soupierre, she had preferred putting herself under my
protection; for she owned that she never loved any one but me.</p>
<p>"Though this was as sweet as honey, yet, as I well perceived that with
such a charmer's assistance my dearly beloved pistoles would soon fly
half over Lyons, I bethought myself seriously of the best means of
transferring her, with all speed, to the Marquis de la Soupierre.
However, to lull all suspicion of the waning state of my affection, I
prepared to entertain her handsomely, till good luck should furnish me
with the means of beating a quiet retreat; and accordingly sent to the
traiteur's for a good dinner, as the very best means of consoling a
distressed damsel.</p>
<p>"Over rich ragouts and heady burgundy the hours slipped lightly by,
and I could see in my little Phillis's sparkling eye her satisfaction
with the conquest she had made. Alas! that mortal joy should be so
transitive! In the midst of our happiness, care, and melancholy, and
gloom, and despite rushed suddenly upon us, in the form of four
ferocious archers, who pitilessly arrested Phillis on the charge of
having robbed her former venerable protector, and hurried me to prison
along with her as an accomplice.</p>
<p>"Phillis had taken care to hide the place of her retreat, but she knew
not the cunning of archers; and though, when they came, she protested
her innocence in terms that would have convinced the hard heart of
Minos, and won the unwilling ears of Rhadamanthus, yet, as the whole
of the stolen goods were found in her valise, the unfeeling archers
would not believe a word; and, as I have said before, we were both
hurried to prison, without any farther ceremony than taking from us
every farthing that we had in the world.</p>
<p>"The next morning we were brought before a magistrate, who reserved
Phillis's case for his private consideration. As to mine, as nothing
could be proved against me, except that I had called myself the Count
de Grilmagnac without being able clearly to prove all my quarters of
nobility, I was ordered to be whipped through the town for my
ignorance of heraldry, and then discharged. My whipping I bore with
Christian fortitude; but the loss of my doublet, which the executioner
kept for his fee, and the loss of my money, which the archers kept
because they liked it, tore my heartstrings; and setting out from that
accursed town of Lyons, where injustice and cruelty walk hand-in-hand,
I begged my way to Paris, and reached the famous hotel where you had
appointed me to meet you. There the landlord told me no such person as
your lordship resided, and bade me get out for a lazy beggar. A black
dog, that stood in the yard, instantly took up the matter where the
landlord left off, and I was in the act of making my escape from them
both when the boy you sent arrived, inquiring for me.</p>
<p>"The joy which took possession of my heart, I need not tell; suffice
it that I made the boy run all the way here, and that, having now
found you, I have determined never to leave you, or let you leave me
again; for while we were together nothing but good fortune attended
us, and since we have been separated nothing but ill-luck has been my
share; so that the only consolation I can have, will be to hear, that
while my scale was down, yours has been up, and that Dame Fortune has
at least befriended one of us."</p>
<p>I could not refuse to tell my history also to my little attendant,
though it occasioned less amusement to him than his had done to me;
and his face grew longer and longer at every incident I detailed, till
at last, passing over all that regarded Helen, I informed him that, on
being conveyed home I found my pocket encumbered with a hundred louis.</p>
<p>This news instantly cleared his countenance. "Who would not be thrown
out of window for a hundred louis?" cried he; "but Vive Dieu! your
excellency has suffered yourself to be desperately cheated in regard
to your ring. Six louis! If I know anything of diamonds, it was well
worth thirty. However, first let me exercise my chirurgical skill upon
your eminence's shoulder, and after that I will see whether the ring
cannot be recovered."</p>
<p>"Nay, nay," cried I, "my good Achilles, give me what titles of honour
you like, except your eminence; that is a rank which it might be
dangerous to usurp. Call me your majesty, if you like, but not your
eminence. As to the ring, I believe you are right, and I will
willingly give double what I received to recover it again."</p>
<p>"Less than that will do," replied Achilles; "a louis for me to buy
myself a suit at a fripier's, a louis for an <i>archer de la cour</i>, and
the sum you had originally received, and I think I can manage it."</p>
<p>I warned him, if I may use the homely proverb, not to go forth to
shear and come home shorn; and having suffered him to examine my
shoulder, gave him the address of the jeweller, and let him depart.</p>
<p>From my lodging, as he told me afterwards, he went to the shop of a
fripier, where he furnished himself with a decent suit of livery, and
thence proceeded to find out an archer of one of the courts of
justice, to whom he explained the affair, and gave half a louis as
earnest, promising the other half if the ring should be recovered. The
eloquence of the little player touched the tender heart of the archer,
at the same moment that the money touched his palm; and, shouldering
his partisan, without more ado he followed to the shop of the
jeweller. Achilles entered alone, and desiring to see some diamond
rings, made up a slight allegory to suit the occasion, informing the
jeweller that his master, the Count de l'Orme, had commissioned him to
buy him a handsome jewel, as a present for his mistress. The jeweller
instantly produced a case of rings, which he spread out before the
eyes of Achilles, commenting on their beauty. Achilles instantly
pitched upon the one I had sold, and asked the price. "Forty louis!"
replied the jeweller, "and I only sell it so cheap because I bought it
second-hand. I require no more than a fair profit. If I gain five per
cent., may I be branded for a rogue!"</p>
<p>"I will tell you a secret, jeweller," replied Achilles. "You are very
likely to be branded for a rogue. You bought this ring, knowing it to
be stolen." The jeweller stared. "It was taken from the person of my
noble lord the Count de l'Orme," proceeded Achilles, "when he was
knocked down and robbed in the Rue St. Jacques. One of the thieves is
taken--the very one who sold it to you--a tall, dark young man, with
curling hair, black moustache, and a beard not six months old. He says
you gave him six louis for it; and as you know it to be worth forty,
you must have been very well aware, when you bought it, that it was
stolen."</p>
<p>"Ho, ho!" cried the jeweller; "so you wish to cheat me out of my ring.
But come, my little man," he continued, catching Achilles by the
collar, "I will send for an archer, and see you safe lodged in prison,
without farther to do."</p>
<p>Achilles, according to his own account, took the matter very calmly.
"As to the archer," said he to the jeweller, "I thought to myself
before I came here, that a man who gave but six louis for a diamond
worth thirty might be somewhat refractory, and, therefore, I brought
one with me. Ho! archer! Without there?"</p>
<p>The jeweller, not a little confounded, instantly let go Achilles's
collar; and, as the archer marched in with his partisan, began to
shake in every limb, doubtless well aware that all his dealings would
not bear that strict examination which they were likely to undergo, if
chance should call the prying eyes of the law upon them.</p>
<p>"I take you to witness, archer," said Achilles, addressing his ally,
"that I have offered this jeweller the same price which the young man
swears he got for this ring, namely, six louis; and that he, the
jeweller, will not sell it for less than forty, which proves that he
knew it to be stolen."</p>
<p>"Certainly," said the archer, in a solemn tone.</p>
<p>"You never offered me the six louis," said the jeweller. "I never said
I would not part with it under forty. Give me the six, and take it,
and the devil give you good for it; for it is not worth more."</p>
<p>"Then you are a great rogue for having asked forty," replied Achilles,
with imperturbable composure: and, thereupon, he entered into solemn
consultation with the archer, as to whether he could safely and
legally give the money and take back the ring; as it was evident the
jeweller was an accomplice of thieves, and ought to be brought to
justice.</p>
<p>"Gentlemen," cried the terrified jeweller at length, alarmed at all
the awful catalogue of pros and cons which Achilles and the archer
banded about between them, "I declare, on my salvation, I knew nothing
of the ring being stolen. I thought the person who brought it here was
some poor gentleman, pressed for money, who would sell it for
anything; and, therefore, I offered six louis for it. All I ask back
is what I gave, and I am content to present this worthy archer with a
gold piece to compensate the trouble he has had."</p>
<p>"Give him the money," said the archer, "give him the money, and take
the ring, we must not be too hard upon the poor devil."</p>
<p>The money was accordingly given, the archer received his fee, and
Achilles carried off the ring to me in triumph; not only having had
the satisfaction of biting the biter, but also having won the warm
friendship of an archer of the Court of Aides, which, to a man of his
principles and practice, was a most invaluable acquisition.</p>
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