The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1844-02-20 00:00:00

Etter aturt.

CARDINAL DE RETZ,

Olt
THE COURTIER'S PLOT.

BY PETRI?. POPJOY, ESQ•

(For the Liverpool Standard.

CHAPTER XIII,

The flight : a new character—a meeting in the dark—a peculiarly
embarrassing and interesting situation—the escape.

IN the meantime Fabien speedily traversed with his•un-
known liberator the vast purlieus of the Cloitre St. Ho-
nore. In spite of his anxiety he could not control a na-
tural enough curiosity to know who the person was that
took so vivid an interest in his behalf; but at the first
word of question he was abruptly commanded to be silent.
In vain did he attempt to distinguish the features of his
conductor and mysterious friend. That part of the cloister
they passed through was plunged in complete obscurity,
and the unknown appeared to want somewhat of a perfect
knowledge of the localities to direct him without a light
along the numerous windings, turnings, and passages.
All that Fabien could observe was that the guide exhi-
bited signs of great alarm; his hand trembling, and his
voice, as he bade De Croissi mount or descend, turn to
the right or the left, being scarcely audible. Several times
he suddenly stopped, as if he heard a noise at a distance,
or saw the glimmering of some far-off lamp at the extre-
mity of a corridor. After some time had been thus occu-
pied, he introduced Fabieu into a little ill-furnished cham-
ber, badly lighted by a wretched lamp, which doubtless
belonged to one of the humblest menials of the palace.
When they had entered this little room they found in it
an individual who appeared to be awaiting their coming.
He demanded, with vivacity—
" Well, Boniface, have you succeeded have you
brought him with you ?"
" He is here," replied the guide, stepping aside to let
Fabien pass.
Fabien now observed the person who stood before him.
He was clad in black, and his countenance bore the im-
press of good temper, sagacity, and activity of mind.
" Fear nothing," said the guide, "it is my cousin
Eustache Vireton, one of the best scholars of Sorbonne ;
but in the name of all the saints, be quick. They will
notice the disappearance of this young cavalier, and pur-
sue us without loss of time. What would become of us
if we were caught before we could pass the wicket ? They
would shut us all up in the Bastille."
" Pooh, pooh !" said Eustache, " your fears are ridicu-
lous."

" Nevertheless, let us go."

They were once again-on their journey through this
wilderness of buildings, and again plunged in darkness.
On, on they went, up and down, through courts, corri-
dors, and galleries—now mounting staircases, now de-
scending as if into the very howeis of the earth. At
length they entered a long gallery.
" The saints defend us," whispered Boniface ; "we
are lost ; " there is some one approaching."
A light step was heard at the end of the corridor, and
at the same minute a female form appeared, scarcely dis-
tinguishable in the dim light which struggled for admit-
tance through the deep windows which here and there
were pierced in the wall. The figure glided on, keeping
close to the side like a spectre, and advanced towards
the fugitives.
The three stood still until the figure approached. They
heard her sighs and suppressed sobs, and it was clear
that she did not expect there were spies upon her ac-
tions.
The adventurers dared scarcely breathe.

The lady at length approached them, and passed so
close that the least movement would have betrayed them.
What must have been .the terror of his companions, as
Fabien started forward, and said, in a low voice, " Eli-
zabeth ! Elizabeth P"

The quick perception—the sympathetic feeling expe-
rienced in the approach of a beloved one—prompted Fa-
hien at once to recognise the Countess.
Elizabeth tottered with fear, and cast around her the
most anxious looks.

" It is I—Fabien-----be not alarmed; pray be silent,
and we are safe."

The maiden on recognising him, clung to him with the
utmost consternation.

" Oh ! Fabien, are you still within the precincts of the
palace ? Why, why do you remain P Why have you
not quitted these hated walls ?
" Elizabeth, I thank Heaven that we have thus met;
this is a happy chance ; l have experienced the utmost
anguish in departing hence without knowing your
fate. In pity sake, tell me are you out of danger ?—and
that the Queen has pardoned you ? I shall then leave
without fear, if not without regret."
" Imprudent Fabien, you lose time. Fly on your way."
Elizabeth now perceived, with somewhat of fear, Fa-
bien's two companions, who stood in the shadow of the
wall. De Croissi guessed at once the cause of her alarm.
" These are friends--deliverers," said he, quickly ;
CC be not dismayed at their presence. But tell me, dearest,
what passed in the oratory after my departure."
" If I have yet to deplore your fate," replied Eliza-
beth, " my own punishment will be without consolation,
and I shall die under it." She wept.
" Has the Queen been relentless, then? Oh ! tell me."
" She has banished me from court, and to-morrow I. am
to be sent to the Carmelites for the remainder of my days:
this—this is my fate." . . .

Fabien placed his arm round Elizabeth's waist, and
supported her fainting form. A minute's silence ensued,
till the guides became impatient of delay.
" Sir," said Eustache, " every moment lost is fraught
with danger to us all. Mademoiselle," continued he, "if
the welfare of Monsieur Fabien is dear to you, delay him
not; time presses, and we must not stop."
" Yes, yes, Fabien, perhaps fate will yet smile upon
us ; let us live in hope. Away, away."
So saying, she was about to tear herself from Fabien's
embrace ; but Fabien, suddenly drawing her still closer
to his breast, said—
" Elizabeth, I was willing to depart hence, because 1
believed that you would be free and happy, and that I
soon might see you again. But now that I know the
lot that awaits you, what need I care for what becomes
of me. Of what value is life to me, if we must live
apart. I will no longer compromise the safety of these
brave fellows who would save me. I will deliver myself
up. I will not struggle against my fate."
The maid of honour turned ashy pale.
" Fabien," she said, " you cannot have reflected upon
such unparallelled folly. What will this act of despair
avail ?"

" I will remain here ; at least"—His eyes rested on
Mlle. de Montglat with a strange expression.
The maiden sunk her head on his breast.
" Friends," said Fabien to his companions,
few paces aside." They did so.
" Elizabeth," said he, " the moment for scruples is
past. I will tell you plainly, I will not quit the palace
unless you accompany me."
4 What is it you would propose to me ?" said the coun-
tess, averting her head.
" Listen to me, Elizabeth ; for you, as for me, life is
now but a desert; how can we exist apart who love each
other so well ? Both orphans and friendless—both con-
demned to a miserable fate—both the sport of selfish and
ambitious adventurers, who have cast their trammels
round us ; Elizabeth, let us resist this tyranny which
seems to weigh us both down. Our affections are free;
in each other's company let us seek the sweets of exist-
ence. Do you, dearest, recollect the pleasant hours we
have passed at Montglat ? From that time I plighted
you my faith, and received yours in return. To-day all
obstacles which opposed our union are cleared away—
persecution warrants us to be united. Consent to follow
me, Elizabeth ; come, do not refuse me. The mysterious
protector who watches so strangely over me cannot but
be a man of generosity, and will not refuse to accord you
that asylum which he has unasked, provided for me.
Come ! I implore you in the name of her who loved us
both, who smilingly encouraged our affection, not to re-
fuse my prayer—the entreaty of your dearest friend—
your brother—your husband."
A violent mental struggle agitated the frame of Eliza-
beth. The future hang by a thread--for weal or woe.
Her bosom sweLed —a faintness nearly overcome her—
her lips trembled ;—she flung her arms wildly round Fa-
bien's neck, and murmured—
" Take me with you, Fabien ; and God pardon me if
I am doing wrong."
The young man scarcely could credit his happiness ;
but the danger of their situation did not permit him to
give expression to his delight. He now turned towards
his companions, and said—
"
We will follow'you, sirs ; I would not now for worlds
fall into their hands."
" Monsieur de Croissi," asked Boniface, with an air of
embarrassment, " who is this young lady ?"
" Like myself, she is persecuted ; will you refuse her
your aid ?"

" stand a

" But—"
" Do you wish me to remain here ?"

" No ; but if you knew—"
" They are coming," exclaimed Fabien, and at the
same moment he bore Elizabeth with rapidity to the end
of the gallery.
It was time, indeed, the little group should quit the
place, for hardly had they arrived at the staircase which
led to a lower range of apartments than a noise ap-
proached and compelled them to stop lest the echo of
their footsteps should be heard. They again remained
silent and motionless, their hearts throbbing with excite-
ment and anxiety.

The noise arose from the Queen returning to her apart-
ments, preceded by a single domestic, who bore a torch
before her. She slowly paced the gallery, while the fugi-
tives, hid in the shade, could see her pass iu the distance,
pale, thoughtful, and care-worn with the numberless
anxieties that day and night occupied her attention.
When the reflection of the flambeau which the valet
bore had disappeared at the turning of the corridor, and
when the noise of his steps was lost in the silence of the
night, the fugitives again pursued their way through the
labyrinth of staircases amidst which the most calm and
profound silence reigned.
The little group at length found themselves in an open
court, and the effect of the fresh air now drawing upon