Page:The Lady's Book Vol. V.pdf/7

 THE TRAITOR’S DOOM. 5

thought! When these limbs are tremulous, and this beard is blanched upon my withered cheek, will he not hold the sceptre with a noble grasp, and wear the coronet like a king?”

“With majesty indeed; but we cannot look into the cloud before us; who can tell what may come to blast thy hopes, and turn thy exultation into sorrow. God grant that day may be far hence”

They were startled by a loud shriek, proceed- ing from an adjoining apartment; and the next moment a female domestic rushed in with pale and horror-stricken countenance; she attempted to speak but was unable to utter a syllable, while she beckoned with her finger to the royal pair, who stood almost petrified at the sudden and alarming interruption. Believing that some robber or assassin had been discovered, Philip drew his sword and followed the domestic. “But all was silent; not a sound was heard, and no intruder to be seen. Ona couch lay the two young princes undisturbed by the confusion around them;—-“There!” cried the female, pointing to the couch. The king raised Lewis in his arms, but he fell back heavily, a cold and seaseless corse. Ilis long and glossy ringlets were flung in beautiful disorder over the silken pillow, his eyes were gently closed, and a sweet smile still lingered about his lips, as if in mockery of death, but the pale and marble brow, and the icy nerveless hand, told too truly that the pure spirit had forever fled.

The care worn countenance of age assumes a look more ghastly, when the king of terror strikes with his sceptre; but who can gaze on the beautiful habitation of the young and unsul- lied soul, but -with feelings of delight; it is a sadly pleasing contemplation thus to behold the bud nipped and withered by that icy and relent- less hand. The queen threw herself by the side of the body, in an agony of grief, and the little Philip who was still by his brother’s side, raised his lisping voice and said, “Dear mamma, why don’t you wake Lewis? he looks so pale it almost frightens me, but then I know ie loves me.”’— This simple appeal touched the spring of the father’s sorrow, and covering his face with his hands, he rushed from the chamber, and gave vent to his anguish in a flood of tears.

Prince Lewis was borne to his resting place, amid the tears and sympathies of thousands for the bereaved parent, who saw the child of his affections laid in consecrated earth, with sorrow for his untimely fate, and wonder at the sudden- ness of his death. Even while he bent over the tomb, a harrowing thought, undefined yet dread- ful, passed gloomily over his soul, and a voice whispered in his ear a word that was full of horror; he looked around, no one was there but bis weeping family and attendants, and he shud- dered to think that the thought within him had taken form and passed his own lips. The pre- cession left the chapel, and again the word was whispered that it was not to he mistaken, but the dense throng defied his utmost attempts to discover whence ft came. ith heavy heart

he reached the palace, and retiring immediately to his##fvate closet, ordered the chan.berlain to be summoned. La Brosse was soon at his side. The king looked inquiringly into the counte- nance of his confidant, as if to read there an an- swer to his yet unspoken question, but the mar- ble features were silent.

“La Brosse?” said the king.

“I am here, Sire; is there aught within my power that can heal thy wounded heart?. most gladly would my life purchase thy tranquillity.”

“There is that within me, that rendsmy,soul, preys on my vitals, gnawing to my very heart’s core; I endure a torture more cruel than very flames could inflict;—suspense—suspicion—dest understand?”

The chamberlain recoiled, and remained in an attitude of attention.

Philip pursued. “ Didst thou hear a foul whis- per floating on the air, that spoke of treason, when our son was entombed with his ancestors—or wher® some damned fiend amid the darkness, coupled it with a name so pure, that angels might not blush to bear? Speak out and fear not.”

“My master,’ replied the chamberlain, “do not, I pray thee, compel me to speak of this mat- ter; sooner should my tongue be plucked out by the roots, than it should utter a syllable against one who holds thy affections, and doubtless does most nobly deserve them.”’ “

“TI warn thee, trifle not; we would know all, and by the throne of heaven, we will; it is adeed that we will sift te the very bottom, let what will oppose, and though one half the world cry out for shame—if thou hast any love—nay not Jove, it is forsworn—but, if justice, honour—can sway thee in one point—blanch not, but speak all— all that thow knowest—can’st prove—or even thinkest.”

“Sire, though I love thee, and owe all to thee, from childhood upward—my name, my office, my very life, I cannot yield to thy request—it will do thee no service, but harm thee in the tenderest point.”

““Be that mycare: wilt thou behold my palace entered with a murderous hand, and not point me to my revenge, but let me still foster a viper in my bosom that may one day dart its poisunous fangs even into me?—Still silent! Then, ingrate, it is time duty should be taught thee. What ho there! guards!” shouted the king passionately, but the chamberlain looked up imploringly, and the order was retracted. With trembling limbs, and faultering tongue, the dismayed courtier promised to divulge afl that he knew, and while the narrative proceeded, Philip sat with clenched teeth, and his countenance grew pale and cold; for love, when attacked by suspicion, quickly yields, and hatred, bitter and inexorable, fills its place. La Brosse asserted nothing positively, but hinted the inferences of his own observation, and instilled into the mind of the king suspicians un- favourable to his consort. That he had often ob- served in H@r a strong aversion to the young princes, and that her ambition contemned the idea