Page:Peterson's Magazine 1842, Volume I.pdf/404

.

THE WIDOW.

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH.

BY BENJAMIN B. THOM.

I was once journeying between Tours and Poictiers. The day was hot, and the road one I had often travelled before. I had been alone in the diligence for many miles, when we took up a young man, of extraordinary manly beauty, and having the air of a Spaniard. We soon fell into conversation and became intimate. Among other things he whiled away the tediousness of our journey by the following story :

Mr. Delaunay was a merchant of Poictiers, with two children who were the pride of his heart. These were a son and a daughter. The son's name was Mauricethe daughter's Mariette. Without stopping to draw for you a portrait of the son, let me present you with a slight sketch of the daughter. Mariette was exceedingly beautiful. But why, when I say that, enter into particulars ? How can I attempt to do so, when her large, full black eyes, beamed a tenderness and kindness that no painter could copy-and her rich, long chesnutcolored hair fell over her shoulders in thick ringlets, and were so abundant that they could have shaded her neck and shoulders like a mantilla ? What need to tell you that she had the smallest feet and the prettiest little hands in the world that her forehead was broad and fair-that on her mouth rested a bewitching smile, or that in its very repose, there was mind and eloquence ? At the age of seventeen, Mariette was the soul of the family. Each was eager to oblige her, without her commanding or ordering any body. They saw her wishes in her looks, and unspoken they were executed. Her intellect was as inexhaustible as her charity. She cast here and there money and ideas- as if she were the prodigal child of nature and of fortune-in short she was an absolutely perfect creature.

"Now, could you think it, Sir, that there was nothing in the miraculous beauty of Mariette that had enchanted the heart of a young man named Pascual- he was almost insensible to the charms of her face, her figure, and her manners. He did not conceive an inordinate affection for Mariette, by reason of her natural graces. He disdained to admire in her that which all the world, in common with himself, could admire. He preferred to all the outward attractions of this most lovely girl, her firmness, her enthusiasm, her happy turn of mind, and the noble resolution of her character. But now I think of it, you do not as yet know any thing of Pascual himself. I did, indeed, forget what the exigencies of every tale require- namely, a hero ; and, therefore, I must tell you of Pascual, and where he comes from, what he has to do with the story, and what too happened to him.

"Pascual, then, had come into France from Spainthat unhappy country. There he had been the President of a Royal Court, and at the age of twenty-three years he was required by the Political Governor of his province to condemn by the most summary process, his countrymen, who were suspected of being opposed to the new order of things-to rid the soil of Carlists that they were not able to surprise with arms in their hands. Pascual refused to obey an order which required from judges a sentence, and not an investigation. It appeared to him that a court of law ought not to be converted into a slaughter-house, where men, principles, and humanity, were to be all massacred together. He tore to pieces the patient conferring upon him his office, he stripped the ermine from his shoulders, and he bade adieu to the rash zeal of the legal tribunals of Spain, and betook himself as an exile to France, where, in the town of Poictiers he waited for better days, and the return of justice to his own country. " Once at Poictiers, Pascual was introduced to the family of Mr. Delaunay ; for that introduction he was indebted to chance, which may be designated the Providence of the unhappy. Mr. Delaunay deigned to receive him with a truly paternal goodnesss. He gave him clothes, food, and money- the very best advice for the wretched- and he also gave him the situation of a clerk in his counting-house. At last, Pascual had the happiness of being educated, if I may so say it, by the friendship, the cares, and the intelligence of Mariette ; she taught him to read, to write, and to think in French. What followed, think you ? In the exuberance of his gratitude the pupil profited so well by the advantages conferred upon him by his enchanting instructress, as to reverence, to adore, and to love her. "Mariette and Pascual were young, handsome, ardent, full of spirits and generosity -were they not formed to appreciate, to esteem, and to fall in love with each other ? They did so, and that with an ardor, an intoxication, it might be said of affection, that yielded only to a sense of duty, and a hope of the future. "You have learned that it was not the admirable beauty of Mariette that had captivated particularly Pascual ; and, on the other hand, it was neither the aspect nor the personal bearing of the young Spaniard that presented attractions to her. That which most pleased the young girl was the courage, the reckless daring, the poetic imagination of her lover. She admired in him, with a species of respect, his disinterestedness, his bravery, that alike despised death and life ; his eloquence when he spoke of the wicked, of traitors, of cowards, and, above all, of his country. "What a strange circumstance occurred ! Mr. Delaunay, in learning of the mutual love that existed between Pascual and Mariette, had not the courage to employ against them either complaints, or menaces, or any of