LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IV, Issue 465, 10 December 1875, Page 3

LITERATURE.

UNDER THE FIR TREES. THE STORY OP A CARDINAL'S LOVE, In a spacious drawing room, furnished with the greatest taste and magnificence, a man, gorgeously apparelled, and about fifty years of age, w?s, on a sultry summer's evening, walHng to and fro, in a state of anxious perplexity bordering on distraction. He had that day learned that the object of all his schemes, intrigues, plots, machinations, was now at length within bis reach, provided the traces of an act done in youth, and hitherto, as he firmly believed, unknown to the world, could by any means be obliterated and consigned to oblivion for ever. The windows of the apartment, reaching from the ceiling to the floor, and curtained with light blue damasked silk fringed deeply with gold, were thrown wide open to woo the breeze, which, though it entered, brought no coolness to his brow. The brilliant furniture and ornaments around him, the pictures, the statues, with whatever else French fancy usually adorned such a chamber at the beg'xmng of the eighteenth century, failed to attract a particle of notice, as did likewise the orange trees which rustled close at hand, and threw their perfume in through the windows. His thoughts were far away, in a calm, quiet, lovely little village on the banks of an affluent of the Loire, where the deed he now so bitterly regretted was perpetrated in the hey-day of the passions. Who has not endeavoured to blot out from the record of his life some event or circumstance, which being removed all else ht fondly believes would be sunshine ? So thought the splendid individual, who in a Parisian palace could, in whatever way he looked, discover but one bar to his fortunes—trifling, paltry, insignificant it may be, but still sufficient, if brought by some enemy to light, to destroy all his hopes, and thrust him down to that social nothingness from which he had originally sprung. The man was very handsome, though there lurked in his expression something suggestive of perfidy and cruelty, together with other vices which need not be enumerated. He had in the course of the day travelled over a wide field of speculation, balancing between two crimes, either of which he hoped might free him from his perplexity. Now the blacker and now the less black seemed preferable. Bad as ha was his heart whispered an objection to the former, though as a last resource he would not have shrunk from it; but, upon mature consideration, the latter he believed would effect all that was needed to smooth his path to the high eminence which rose glittering and inviting before him. He had worked himself up into a fever of excitement, big drops of perspiration stood on bis forehead, his cheeks were flushed, his eyes glared with bewildered ferocity. Just as the evening was deepening into night his valet, who had learned at such times to dread his frown, knocked timidly at the door. «Come in,' growled the man, starting at the interruption from his savage reverie. The valet in deprecating tones stated that in the ante-room there was a nobleman, whom he named, demanding rather than requesting an interview. ' Ho is impertinent, but no matter; you may admit him; we shall need lights, for his visits are long and tedious.' The valet, his face being concealed by the twilight gloom, smiled at this remark, for he knew that on other occasions no visitor was more welcome than the one he was about to introduce*. The chandeliers are lighted, the windows closed, the shutters barred, the two doors, separating the drawing-room from that in which the lacqueys sat waiting, carefully locked by the master of the house himself. The interlocutors are seated at a table, with wine in sparkling crystal vases, and curiously cut Venetian glasses before them. 1 You anticipate the purpose of my visit, my lord bishop ?' fjfot in the least.' • Well, as you are aware, I have friends at Court, yet none so powerful as yourself, none for whom I would do or dare as much —and what you would have accomplished at this moment will require some daring.' 'To what point are you driving, Monsieur? It surpasses my ingenuity to divine your meaning. ' That is strange! I thought you understood my position better. However, since you need a few particulars I will supply them—mind as a friend entirely at your service. I come from your part of the country, my father's estate lay—l wish I could say lies—near your village. I know the cure—I know Mademoiselle ' ' Stay, you need not proceed. What use do you intend to make of all this knowledge?' ' I have said that I mean on one condition to employ it in your service.' ' Name your condition.' 1 It is this. I want to be made Governor' —here he named one of the richest provinces in the south of France. 'You can get the place for me, and in return, I will perform the only thing necsssary to enable you to assume the scarlet hat. You see I am not ill-informed.' 'M. le Comte,' replied the bishop, 'your information is wonderful. But what are you prepared to do ?' T 'lt is a matter of mdiffewj-" T?.*"■, * will either remove *« strov the r ioots of her relationship to you. - Destroy, no ! you must place those proofs in my hands. Till I possess them, till I myself consign to the flames those mementoes of my folly ' ' Or guilt,' whispered the comte. ' Yes, guilt if you please —yet not so. The feelings by which I was then prompted were as pure as ever quickened the heart's beat. I married because I loved, and at that moment would not have given the woman of my choice for all the wealth and honours in the world. But since ! 0 yes, since I confess it, I have thought differently. Yet the greatest sacrifice I ever madeJor promotion, for pomp, for princes and popes, was that of TttwMouth's love. But it has been made, now only remains to gather the last fruitsjjfcit, in Avhioh, M le Comte, you profess youß||| ready to assist me.' A compact was then entered into, the fulfilment of which might necessitate the sacrifice of one life at least, and lead indirectly to the sacrifice of many. The secular man of whom we have been speaking, younger by a few years than the Bishop, had, through gambling and other irregularities, totally dissipated the fortune left him by bis father, and etood now on th%

brink of poverty. To-avoid this be was ready to perpetrate any I act 6f viJlany, to launch at innocent persons the shafts of calumny,, to effect the ruin of families, or as a last resource to throw a thick veil over his conscience; which had already been greatly weakened, and shed blood like water. What was agreed upon between him and the expectant cardinal will in part be understood by what has been related above, the remainder will become clear, only too clear for the reputation of the actors, as we proceed. Having satisfied himself that he had achieved a fine stroke of policy the comte repaired to an elegant mansion in the quartier St Germain, where he had an interview of three hours with a lady closely connected with the bishop, from whom it may be conjectured he had obtained—at what price need not be said —a thorough knowledge of the particulars that enabled him to play the part he had just performed. The next morning was Sunday, which everybody knows is a delightful day in Paris, especially during summer, for the country, repelled by no squalid suburbs, comes up close to the walls, and throws the rich odours of the fields into the streets and public places; and this was much more the case at the period of which we are speaking when the gay Duke of Orleans was Regent, than it is now. Early rose the count, and with well filled pockets—a circumstance which had been very unusual with him of late -passed the barrier, and directed his horse's head towards Touraine, No servant attended him, because he desired his movements to be quite unobserved. He had breakfasted sumptuously before leaving the mansion in the Faubourg, and, to make up in some measure for lost time, meant to breakfast again when he should have ridden some dozen or twenty miles, which, with a horse such as he bestrode, would occupy no great space of time. To '£ continued.")