Written by himself.
THE house of Comminge, from which I am descended, is one of the most ancient and illustrious in the kingdom; my great grand-father, who had two sons, was so extremely fond of the youngest, that he settled some very considerable estates upon him, in prejudice to the rights of his elder brother; and gave him the title of marquis of Lussan. The partiality of my ancestor did not weaken the friendship between his two sons, which encreased with their years. They would have their children brought up together; but by giving them their education in common, instead of uniting them by stricter ties than those of blood, which was their sole view in it, they rendered them enemies almost from their birth.
My father, who was always excelled in his exercises by the young marquis of Lussan, conceived a jealousy at it, which soon degenerated into a fixed aversion. They often quarrelled; and my father being always the aggressor, it was he who was always punished.
One day, when he complained of this treatment to the steward of our family, ‘Know, said the man to him, that you will have it in your power to repress the pride of the marquis of Lussan; all the estates he possesses are entailed upon you, and your grandfather could not dispose of them: when you are the master, continued he, it will not be difficult for you to recover your right.’
This intimation convincing my father, that he had it in his power to be revenged of his cousin, made him set no bounds to his resentment. Their quarrels became so frequent and so violent, that there was a necessity for separating them. They were many years without seeing each other, during which they were both married. The marquis of Lussan had only a daughter by his wife, and my father only a son by his, which was myself.
As soon as my father came to the possession of his hereditary estates, by the death of his grandfather, he determined to follow the advice that had been given him, while he was yet a youth, and which he had never lost sight of: he omitted nothing that could render his claim unquestionable, and rejecting several proposals for an accommodation, commenced a law-suit with the marquis of Lussan, which could not but terminate in the despoiling him of all his estates.
An unhappy rencounter, which they had one day in a hunting-match, rendered them for ever irreconcileable. My father, whose vowed revenge was never out of his thoughts, said several cruel things to the Marquis of Lussan, upon the despicable condition to which he expected soon to reduce him. The marquis, tho’ naturally mild, could not help answering with some haughtiness. They had recourse to their swords: fortune declared in favour of Monsieur de Lussan: he disarmed my father, and bid him ask his life.
‘I should hate it, answered my father fiercely, if I owed it to thee.’ ‘Yet, spite of thyself, thou shalt owe it to me,’ said the marquis, of Lussan, throwing him his sword: after which he instantly left him.
This generous action did not move my father in his favour; on the contrary, the double victory his enemy gained over him, encreased his hatred, and he carried on the suit against the marquis of Lussan more vigorously than before. However, when his hopes were highest he received some accounts from his lawyers, which effectually destroyed them. This disappointment threw him into such transports of rage and grief, as brought on a dangerous fever, under which he languished a long time, and in this state I found him at my return from my travels, upon which I had ben sent immediately after my studies were finished.
A few days after my arrival, the Abbot de R—, a kinsman of my mother’s, sent notice to my father, that the writings which alone were able to prove his just claim to the estates possessed by the marquis of Lussan, were in the archives of the abbey of R—, to which place many of the papers belonging to our family had been carried during the civil wars. My father was desired by the abbot to keep this information secret, and to come himself for those writings, or send a person for them, on whose fidelity he could have an absolute dependance.
The bad state of his health not permitting him to go himself, he charged me with this commission, after many times representing to me, the great importance of it. ‘You, said he to me, are more concerned in the recovery of those papers, than I am; the estates will probably soon be yours; but if you had no interest in them, I think well enough of you, to believe that you share my resentment, and are eager to revenge the injuries I have received.’ After giving some other necessary instructions, it was resolved that I should take the title of marquis of Longaunois, that my business in the abbey might not be suspected, madame de Lussan having several relations there.
I set out, accompanied only by an old servant of my father’s, and my own valet de chambre. My journey proved successful: I found in the archives of the abbey the writings which proved incontestably the entail. I wrote to my father, and gave him an account of all that I had done; and, as I was only at a small distance from […] , I desired he would permit me to stay there during the season for drinking the waters. My father was so pleased with the success of my journey, that he readily complied with my request.
I still appeared under the borrowed title of the marquis of Langaunois: my equipage was too inconsiderable to support the grandeur of that of Comminge. The day after my arrival, I went to the fountain: in these places ceremony is laid aside, and an easy polite freedom better supplies its place. From the first day of my appearance at the baths, I was admitted into all parties of pleasure, and introduced at the house of the marquis de la Valette, who that day gave a grand entertainment to the ladies.
I found several of them whom I had seen at the fountain already come, and said some tender things to them, as I then thought myself obliged to do to all women. I was engaged in a particular conversation with one of them, when a lady of a good presence entered the room, followed by a girl of surprising beauty; her charms fixed my attention immediately, her graceful modesty won my esteem. I loved her from that moment, and that moment decided the destiny of my whole life. Insensibly my former gaiety vanished; I could do nothing but gaze on her, and follow her every where: she perceived it, and blushed. A walk was proposed, and I had the good fortune to lead her. We were at a sufficient distance from the rest of the company to give me an opportunity of talking to her upon a subject by which my whole thoughts were engrossed; but I who a few moments before was not able to remove my eyes from her face, had now when we were alone not courage enough to look upon her. Till then I had always talked of love to women for whom I felt nothing but indifference; but as soon as my heart was really subdued, I found impossible to speak.
We rejoined the company, without having uttered a single word to each other. The ladies were conducted to their lodgings, and I returned home, where I shut myself up in my apartment. In the disposition my mind was then, solitude was most agreeable. I felt a certain kind of joy mixed with pain, which I believe always accompanies a beginning passion: mine had rendered me so timid, that I durst not endeavour to know the name of her I loved. I was apprehensive my curiosity would betray the secret of my heart; but how did it sink within me, when I learned that it was the daughter of the marquis of Lussan who had charmed me. All the obstacles that opposed my happiness rose instantly to my mind; but the fear that Adelaida, so was that lovely girl called, had been early taught to hate my name, was what most alarmed me. I thought myself fortunate in having assumed another; and fondly hoped that she would know my passion for her before she could be prejudiced against me; and that when she knew who I was she would at least be induced to pity me.
I therefore determined to conceal my true name as long as possible, and in the mean time to use every method to please her; but I was too much in love to employ any other than that of loving. I followed her wherever she went: I ardently wished for an opportunity of speaking to her in private; and when that so much desired opportunity offered itself, I had not power to take advantage of it. The fear of forfeiting a thousand little freedoms, which I now enjoyed, restrained me; but my greatest fear was that of offending her.
This was my situation, when one evening, as the company were walking in separate parties, Adalaida dropt a bracelet off her arm, to which her picture was fastened. The chevalier de Saint Oden, who led her, eagerly stooped to take it up, and, after gazing upon it a moment, put it in his pocket. Adelaida at first asked for it mildly; but he obstinately refusing to return it, she expressed great resentment at a behaviour which showed so little respect for her.
The chevalier was handsome; some little successes with the fair had made him vain and presuming. Without being disconcerted at Adelaida’s anger, ‘Why, mademoiselle, said he, would you deprive me of a good which I owe only to chance? I flatter myself, continued he, lowering his voice, that when you know the sentiments you have inspired me with, you will suffer me to keep what that has presented me.’ Saying this he bowed profoundly low; and, without waiting for her answer, retired.
I happened not to be with her then. The marchioness de la Valette and I were talking at a little distance; but altho’ I quitted her as seldom as possible, yet my attention was always fixed upon her. I never lost a look, a word, or action of hers, and however particularly engaged, I never failed in any of those assiduities, which others practise to please, but which the excess of my passion made we find inconceivable pleasure in performing.
[To be continued.]