The Sun.
London, England, 1835-09-21 00:00:00

DIARY OF As POREIGN LADY OF

RANK.

The Count St. Paul was quite one of the merveil-
leux during the time of Louis XVIII. He was a tall,
fine-loolzing man, prodigal in whisker and moustache,
and s.ilent and grave enough to interest the imagina-
tior.. I have always observed that grave and silent
people have always more imagination about them than
the lively or the talkative ; so much is supposed to lie
beneath the dark still water. I have my doubts ; vi-
vacity is quite as often a mask as gravity, and either
must be supposed to be a mask before it is at all in-
teresting.

The Count had only just returned from his travels,
and was, therefore, expected to be very entertaining ;
this, however, appeared to be the farthest thing in the
world from Ms intentions. He was rather inclined to
look the hero, than to narrate the adventures of one.
Howevi.,r, Byron was just coming into fashion in Paris,
and it was suggested that the Count St. Paul was no
bail representative of Lara. Nothing like setting peo-
pie's fancy to work ; it at once does l'impossible.
During Mde. de Stael's engouement for M--, the
original of Lord Oswald, in Corinne, she reconciled
all his real dullness by calling it profondeur. Every
day when he sunk into his usual evening's silence—
half sleep, half stupidity—she used to say, Atais
'voila comme it pense. It was equally taken for granted
with the Count St. Paul ; as he did not talk, he was
supposed to think.

In the meantime he gave splendid fetes, played
'high and lost, though not often ; still his losses were
the only subject on which he was ever eloquent. It
must be confessed that he made the most of them. If
not very flattering in his words, he was so in his ac-
tions to the ladies. He gave a ball, because the
pretty Countesse de C— said he ought to do it, and
be was prodigal in his presents. In his costume he
was superb; he shone with " barbaric pearl and gold."
There was one chain of singularly delicate workman-
ship, which he always wore. He had worn it from a
boy, and there were mysterious hints of a miniature
appended to its glittering links. About this time, all
Paris was talking of some daring and unaccountable
robberies that had lately taken place. These robberies
were entirely confined to gold and jewels ; pearls,
diamonds, and rubies disappeared at an awful rate.
Mlle. de S--, a young lady whom it was said the
Count de St. Paul greatly admired, lost an emerald
bracelet, of great value, one evening at a ball—the
Count, as well as others, remembered seeing it on her
arm while she was waltzinc, with him ; and the same
evening he lost pie gold chain he always wore. In
short, " who was robbed yesterday ?" became a leading
question in all fashionable conversation.

- This. had gone on for some time, when one morning
there :was a review. The Count St. Paul was at the
Jtead of his troop ; he was in a cavalry regiment, and
excited treat admiration by his splendid accoutrements,
and his IS'nglish horse. He was looking remarkably
well. lit plain clothes, some of his detractors said
that he lacked the air -distingae—that air so easy to
feel, so impossible to describe. But, to-day, the
judgment was dazzled by gold lace, plumes, and em-
broidery ; and the Count St. Paul was•allowed to be
the hands,xnegt man on the ground. The king had
just spoken to him, and he fell back a little in the
royal circle, which was very much pressed upon by the
crowd without. In those days, Louis courted popu-
larity, and the multitude were permitted to come near
enoup n to benefit by some melodramatic speech of
" \% here can a king be better than surrounded by his
ve,Jple, or a Bourbon than- among Frenchmen ?" -One
rian, dark, sullen,- and ferocious-looking, pushed in
very rudely before the Count St. Paul, who ordered
him away. Still the man remained, though in per-
-trial danger from the curvettings of the fiery charger,
which its master rather excited than checked. This
produced some confusion, and the Count, rising in his
stirrups,. ordered two police officers near to- turn 'out
" cet insolent." The men obeyed, but first he turned
full round, and said, " Robert, you shall repent this ;''
but as be spoke he was hurried off.

The Count just caught the dark and fierce features,
and started as if he hadbeen struck by a thunderbolt.
He turned deadly pale, and only recovered his self-
possession by a-desperate effort ; and even then but
imperfectly. I remember hearing some officers, who
were on the wound, talking of the circumstance, and
he singular effectt which it produced. The general
opinion was, that the man was a celebrated fortune-
teller, who had warned the- Count of his approaching
death. The next day all Paris was enjoying a most
delightful state of excitement. Every body was more
_ _

astonished than anybo4 had ever been be-fore. The
COunt St. Paul had been arrested in 'an attempt to
escape from Paris the preceding night. Before this
wonder had time to grow familiar,- another succeeded.
It was confidently reported that the Count had been
concerned in all the late robberies. His house had
been examiiied ; and after. a minute investigation, a
sliding pannel had been discovered, and in a recess
were found many articles of great value, and among
others the very bracelet of Mlle de S.

But the third wonder distanced all its competitors..
The Count St. Paul proved to be no Count at all ; he
reversed the celebrated discovery in the Anti-jacobin,
"he was no knight-templar, but a waiter." He
was, in reality, the confidential servant of .the real
Count, who had died on his travels in an obscure
village in Spain. The valet at once saw the advan-
tage of his singular likeness to his master, and taking
possession of his papers, clothes, money, £vc. resolved
on personating him. Robert Hermanetty, which
was, if I recollect right, his real name, had lived be-
fore on his wits. He had left Paris in a fright at a
swindling transaction which had attracted the
attention of the police. But no one remembered
the obscure swindler in the Count St. Paul ; old
habits were, however, too strong, and he gradually re-
newed his connexion with a gang of pickpockets, with
whom he had formerly been on the best terms in, the
world. The secret was well kept, and was at last dis-
covered by one excluded from it. The man who re-
cognised him at the review was a former associate,
with whom he had quarrelled, and who was aware
that he had left France, as domestic to the real Count.
All the facts were brought completely home to him ;
indeed, he did not even attempt a defence ; and the
career of the Count St. Paul was terminated by being
sent to the gales. •