Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1858-01-01
From the Waverly Magazine.
THE ROYAL DEVOTEE;
THE MONK OF ST. FRANCIS.
BY THOMAS BURROWS MITCHELL.
CHAPTER L.

CHAPTER L.
The transient, but ephemral joy that
had quickened the pulse of France at
the return of their captive king, became
chilled and crushed into forgetfulness by
the appalling rumor that anne borne up
on the breeze, and hung like pail over
the great heart of the nation, shrouding
il bright hopes and destinies in folds Of
funeral blackness.
Over ill-fated Burgundy, and the sun
ny provinces of the south, hovered the
imperial eagle, eager to size, in its bloody
tallons, the fair lands of vine-clad
France. The dormant, but still remem-
bered claims Of England's lion, deepen
ed the rich valleys and lovely hills of
Normandy and Aquitaine while from
5.yond the Alps, the Switzer, in his
rmntain hamlet, dreamed of conquests,
,;rCh as those woven in imagination's
n,gtc web, ornate with all her gorgeous
c,5ring. Already had the enemy, un-
der Adrian De Croy and the Count De
Nassare, entered Picardy; and, having
laid waste the open country, possessed
themselves of Bray Sur Somme, and
other places of less importance and,
when the rumored seize of Peronne be-
came whispered in Paris, it sent chill
of fear and sadness through the great
arteries of the city, and blanched the
cheeks of the Parisians. As the heart
seems to cease, for moment, in its strong
pulsations, when some great and sudden
fear flashes in upon it from its outer
chambers, so the business and life OF the
city ceased to move and pulsate and
only whispered words of blended fear
and stern resolve brake from white lips
lips but an hour ago red with life and
warm with smiles.
Such was the state of France when
rze glance in upon it, in the first half of
the sixteenth century. But, for mo-
ment, we will gaze beneath the wild cur
rent Of public life, and trace the wind
ings of those individual life-currents, so
tinged with poetry and romance.
1t was not yet night. The half sub
dued, reddened glow, flushing the frin-
ges of the dark clouds, revealed the OBJ
scurity of the proud orb of day resting
over the horizon; still, over that old bat
tlemented castle on the Rhone, and the
flashing waters, draped a curtain Of shad-
ows.
Now and then, as the surging wind
swept back the heavy folds of the gold
embroidered drapery from the low arcade
of the western turret, a pale face could
4 be seen-a face framed in masses oflight
golden hair; its deep, spiritual beauty
flashing through the gathering darkness
like some cloud-vision of an artists dream
one that leaves its deep impression
long after its constituents have fled.
That face was BIagdalene De Valois
the daughter of the Fleur De Lis. She
was indeed beautiful, with those cleal
blue eyes, that changed to darker tin
in the depth of their reflection that fine
delicate contour of features, so prizet
among those women of ancient Greco e
and the slight, graceful figure, SO queen
like in its movements. The rich page
of history tell us of many lovely women
but of none more fair than the gentl
daughter of the good Queen Claude.
A pensive thoughtfulness had stolel
over the young face, that deepened as tn
shadows thickened. How often in tn
human countenance the type of natur
either brilliant or cIouded, as the sun
light or the clouds sweep over it.
velvet cassock lay at her feet, ard
richly carved reading-desk stood near by
An old manuscript lay open upon it, fror
which she had been reading; but as th
darkness stole in around her, she ha
turned away to watch the gatherin
storm, that came sweeping down upo
the Rhone.
There was a wild grandeur in tn
scene; for now, from that black mass {
clouds, that all through the long day ha
been unrolling their black folds owe
Blois, came large rain-drops; now thicl
er and faster, until they swept dow
over Blois-over that old castle, and owe
the foam-capped wayes-in a delug
daFkening the air and shutting out ii
lace Of nature. Now and then you mig
catch the flashing of the roaring wav'
as they drove madly in against the roe
bound base OF that western turret, al
Then fell back in sheets of white foam
but that was all that waste Of water
aWgv ont - A. l.z4z.a.n .x-or