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Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1844-01-30 00:00:00

generous. I will be a willing hostage for his truth and
fidelity."
Seeing that the courtiers who stood around appeared
surprised at her warmth and earnestness, " Sirs," she
continued, burstinc, into tears, "I it was who first drag-
ged him to the edge of this precipice. lit was who in-
duced him to leave his peaceful country home, where
happy and calm, life passed away without a knowledge of
courtly intrigues—and oh ! of crimes---and if I love him
—I love him with all my heart—but I, too, have been
deceived—betrayed—entrapped." Sobs stayed her fur-
ther utterance. The Queen replied coldly, and with that
apparent callousness she sometimes could assume.
Truly, gentlemen, I am sorry to find that we who
are assembled here on the subject of an enterprize that
affects a kingdom's welfare, should now only find our
time occupied by an affair of the- heart of one of my
maids of honour, and her Normandy beau! believe me,
nevertheless, this exhibition of man's scruples and wo-
man's love is not more diverting to me than it must prove
to you."

Several voices now were raised to tender advice, but
the Baron de Croissi—his face livid—his eyes glistening
with anger, approached the Queen, and said in a tone of
ill-disguised passion,—
" I beseech your majesty to believe that I have been
deceived by the pretended simplicity of this young man.
He has unworthily abused my trust, and has departed
from all his most solemn promises. But let not your
majesty despair of the project which your most faithful
servants have conceived. I will not fail to find before
this time to-morrow a gentleman who will accomplish it
without conditions, or any difficulties being cast in the
way. For the present, I shall not seek to avert the just
vengeance that your majesty will not fail to visit on him
who has betrayed us."
" I—l take revenge upon this unhappy youth," said
the Queen, with disda'n ; " Sir, my vengeance does not
descend so low. Let theSe gentlemen decide his lot :to
them do I abandon him."
" Madame," exclaimed D'Hocquincourt, with ear-
nestness, " I knew not this young man until yesterday :
to-day I have seen him for the second time. I avow to
your grace that he has acted and spoken in a manner
which, in a person of importance, would amount to high
'treason ; but this headstrong youth is guilty only of folly
and ignorance. If then your majesty will take into con-
sideration any loyal and good services I may have ren-
dered my country, I implore your majesty not to permit
him to be too heavily punished for his boldness. lam his
debtor, and his language appears to me to be inspired by a
feeling of generosity that, though I cannot but admire it,
I still must in this case look upon it as absurd and unbe-
coming. In one word, madame, I think it will be quite
sufficient to exact from him a promise to reveal nothing
that he knows in this affair; and if it should be considered
necessary to place any one to watch over him, to secure
his silence, I will not hesitate to pledge myself to under-
take the charge, and hold myself responsible for his ap-
pearance before your majesty and these noble gentlemen
present."
" Thanks, thanks, gallant D'Hocquincourt, " mur-
mured Elizabeth. The younger De Croissi acknowledged
by a sign his thanks, to his defender. The courtiers
gathered in a group, and discussed, in low tones, the pro-
priety of adopting this course to guard against any in-
discretion on the part of Fabien. Some hinted that the
walls of a state prison were more likely to secure them
from an unguarded word than the interior of the Hotel
D'Hocquincourt. Nevertheless, as few of them wished
to embroil themselves with the Marechal, who seemed
intent upon his proposition being carried out, and as the
Queen who had turned away her head with an affectation
of indifference, appeared also to lean towards the side of
clemency, they were about to decide that Fabien should
be placed in charge of D'Hocquincourt, when the Baron
de Croissi interrupted—
" One moment, gentlemen,—but one moment," said
he, with firmness, "by the royal clemency—a most un-
deserved favour—my brother has not been requited as
his most audacious speech and conduct so well merit,
but I will not forego to any man the right I have of dis-
posing of him, and I claim him, being his eldest rela-
tion and his natural protector.
" All those ties that once bound me to you are now
broken and for ever annihilated," cried Fabien, with an
indignant air. " Every kindness you have done is effaced
from this moment—you are no longer my brother—l
know you not."

"So now a family scene—for our edification—nothing
like a change, gentlemen," said the Queen, with bitter
12
ropy.

" Gentlemen," said Elizabeth, stepping forward and
addressing herself to the courtiers, " do not deliver this
young man into the hands of his brother, do not abandon
him to a pittiless tyranny ; he has already shown that
he wished to sacrifice him to hs ambition ; who knows
what fate he may have in store for him for the future P"
" Gracious lady," she continued, turning towards the
Queen, "remember that young De Croissi yesterday de-
voted himself bravely in your Majesty's cause. Pardon
him, and my life upon it, you willj not have in all the
kingdom a more faithful adherent."

The Queen, in spite of the insensibility which she so
delighted to assume in public, still possessed a good
heart ; her anger, when roused, was blind, violent, and
irresistible, but it was never very lasting, and after the
first burst always to be softened. The tears, the suppli-
ant tone of Elizabeth de Montglat—no slight favourite
at all tinies—won upon her sensibility ; perhapa that very
artless affection which Elizabeth exhibited towards Fa-
bien and which she pretended to despise, recalled certain
fond recollections of her own girlhood. Whatever
might have been the cause of this softening tcwards the
culprit, she was about to pardon him when the pittiless
Albert, in an instant, changed his intentions.
" Madame," said he, pointing to the maiden with an
air of contempt, " does your Majesty know well who it
is that solicits such a favour as is just preferred, and who
brands me with the names of infamy and of being a
traitor? Does your grace know all the mischief that
this weak and trembling girl hath done, holding, as she
does, a confidential situation near your Majesty?"
" What have you to say of the Countess de Montglat,"
inquired the Regent, with astonishment and some show

of displeasure.
" Monsieur De Croissi !" cried Mdlle. de Montglat,
dismayed, trembling, and turning pale with terror.
" You have not kept your promise, therefore I will not
keep mine," continued Albert ; "in place pf inducing my
brother to do his duty, you have pictured to him in odious
colours a deed that would save the state. I will now let
the Queen become acquainted with a secret which chance

alone enabled me to discover, and which has placed you
in my power. Know, then, Madame, that Madlle. de

Montglat, the most fkivoureel of all, and whom you have

loaded with favours, day by daY betrays your confi-

dence, and—

" Peace be. with you," exclaimed a deep toned and
sonorous voice, which appeared to issue from the very

midst of the assembly

(To be continued.)

HINTS FOR HUNDREDS.—No. I.
(For the Liverpool Standard.)

" Esti auton kinanto ? "-

P-DEDIOSTHENE3.

" ANY THING NEW?"

A straw floating on the surface of the water, or a feather
wafted in the air, things but trifling and insignificant in
themselves, are yet sufficient to indicate the current of
the mightiest river, or the direction of one of the most
powerful and subtle elements of nature. This assertion
you may admit to be true, but certainly not " any thing
new." Yet the application which I wish to make of a
circumstance, trivial in itself as either of the above illus-
trations, and, from its every-day occurrence, unnoticed
and not hitherto applied to the purpose I intend, will be
deemed, I humbly opine, in your estimation, to be—
" something new." But first let me premise, that as a
stranger and visitor for a short time in your large and
flourishing commercial city, the modern Venice or Tyre
of ancient times, it has forcibly occurred to me, as a
startling and puzzling paradox, (as I know it has also
done to others visiting you under similar circumstances,)
that such a strange discrepancy should exist between the
symmetrical proportions and uniformity of style, propri-
ety and adaptation for the purposes intended, as are to be
found in your public docks, causing them to be deservedly
an object of great attraction and admiration, and the ab-
sence of all uniformity, and the studied irregularity and
confusion of all styles of architecture hitherto known and
acknowledged as standards of art, and, until exhibited in
your town, never deemed to have an existence in any
imagination however gloveine o‘r f•ma:Calrin any or toe
vagaries (and these have been numerous enough) which
have been exhibited to the world by amateur or profes-
sional architects. In every modern square and street of
your town, this is conspicuously visible. But more : it is
not that this discrepancy exists in the style of the build-
ings alone, but in the materials also of which they are
composed. Look at a row of goodly houses : at its com-
mencement you will find two or three to be built of stone,
then as many more to be lath and plastered buildings,
some having their fronts painted to imitate the stone, but
those whose houses are immediately adjoining their stony
neighbours will take care that there shall not be any pos-
sibility of mistaking their cement for the more durable
material, and will have it painted a dead white colour;
the next will have a shining quarantine-like front, glowing
with yellow ochre; another will choose to be considered
as, " when least adorned," to be " adorned the most,"
and will exhibit the cement in all its native purity, or
impurity rather, showing cameleon-like green, yellow and
black, accordingly as the atmosphere, smoke, and dirt
have in turns done their respective duties; and then, as
if to set at defiance and utterly to defeat any ideas that
may have been entertained that uniformity may have been
aimed at, a few bright red brick houses will succeed, some
garnished and decorated with stone cornices and mullions,
some merely with brick, laughing to scorn the attempts
of passers-by to account for this strange medley; then
for fear lest, after all, this incongruity might, by a great
stretch of the imagination, be mistaken for regularity and
uniformity, and to remove the monotony
of the prospect,
which might otherwise be occasioned, you will find either
in the centre of the row, or intervening somewhere before
it terminates, a large unsightly hiatus, left unoccupied,
and rejected piece of is " to be sold " or "
with a board nailed on a post, indicating that this forlorn
let "—but not to be "groundlet alone" (that is the board), for
to be
this serves as the rallying point and target for the dirty,
ragged lads in the neighbourhood to
concentrate their
force, and there, with yellings and hootings, to exercise