Page:The Czar, A Tale of the Time of the First Napleon.djvu/111

Rh unstained honour and unshaken loyalty, the nephew of the gallant prince who died so nobly on the scaffold for his King —betrayed every sacred memory of the past, every holy hope for the future. I marvel that the dust of his ancestors did not rise from the battle-fields of their country to curse the wretch who bore part in the murder of his King." A red glow suffused the pale cheek of Madame de Talmont as she spoke, showing how hotly the fire of passion burned beneath its covering of proud and dignified self-control. With this lady of the old régime the affections of the heart were strong, but the traditions and prejudices of a class were stronger yet.

"But Victoire?" Clémence ventured after a pause.

"Ah, Victoire! Poor child! she was more sinned against than sinning. But her life was wrecked; and that sin lies at the door of Louis de Talmont. In those early days of the Revolution many foreigners came to Paris. With one of these, who was young, brilliant, wealthy, and noble, Louis formed, after his fashion, a violent friendship. M. le Prince, as we used to call him, had a fine figure, a handsome face, and the most splendid diamonds I have ever seen. But there was an end of his perfections; and great as they may have been, they could scarcely atone for a head and heart as empty as air. Being a stranger, with nothing to lose, and no knowledge of our past to restrain him, he went farther than even his misguided teachers. There was no excess of the mob, in those evil days, in which he did not bear a part. In the Jacobin halls his voice was the loudest, his counsel the most violent; and ever on his lips was that misused, delusive cry, 'Liberty, Equality, Fraternity.' It was to this man that Louis de Talmont must needs give the hand of his sister, the cherished daughter of his house."

"Poor Victoire! How terrible for her! How miserable