The Cecil Whig., 1876-05-27
A STORY OF AN OLD FRUIT KNIFE.


The period which Louis NV, or the
Grand Monarque, as he was called, reigned
over fair France, was one of great splendor
and unbridled license for the mobiles and
courtiers, and unmitigated misery and
want for the people. The parsmony of
Mazarin had given place to the unbounded
expenditure of Foquet, and then was
created the germ which was, many years
later, to mature in the blood and horror of
the reign of terror. Little, however, were
the luxurious creatures of the court moved
by any feeling of compassion or fear to-
word the common people, creatures they
considered only born to be their slaves.
Alas. the day was to come in which their
lives were to be in the hands of the de-
spised ones. The day was to come when
they should plead for the mere permission
to live, and plead in vain. But the subject
of my sketch has naught to do with that
time, except in the recountiug of the incl
dents which led the French people into
Among the French families of high rank
which emigrated from their native land
during the prevalence of bloodshed and the
terrors of the Revolution was that of the
Compile de Beauvoir, one Of the oldest and
most highly respected in the kingdom.
When the reign of terror commenced, the
first impulse of the Compte was to leave
his hereditary state, where he was then
quietly living, and go at once to the CAPT
tai, hoping to use his influence to stay the
mad tide of revolt. But the courageous
noble was speedily undeceived in his belief.
He saw that no mortal man with good
blood in his veins could hope to win aught
but an ignominous death. Soon after, he
and his family, consisting of wife and
child, were compelled to fly.
Converting all his available property into
money and jewels, he crossed the Atlantic
Ocean and settled near Baltimore. Here
he lived and died. and the following true
incident was told by the great grandson of
the Compte himself, in answer to curious
question in regard to a small and elegantly
mounted fruit knife, which lay among
some bijouterie upon shelf in his cabinet.
The knife was the more remarkable be-
cause of its blade being black and dscol-
ore6, as if by the action of some chemical.
In answer to the question, the following
story was told:
1t was in the latter part of the reign of
Louis XIV, that our ancestor, the eighth
Compte de Beauvoir, was living in Paris
in attendance upon the court. The family
consisted of three members only; the
Count and Countess, and one child, a
daughter-Cecile de Beauvoir.
This daughter was then at the age of
eighteen years, and so beautiful was she
that royalty itself had made overtures to
her. which had been promptly repulsed
and ostensibly withdrawn, but events show
plainly that it was but ostensibly, for the
king was determined to win Cecile if pos
sble, by fair or foul means.
Among all the young mobiles who wor-
shipped at her shrine, Cecile most admired
and more truly loved the young Chevalier
Lavalle, and although not formally betroth-
ed, they seemed aware of the love which
each bore the other.
Suddenly the Chevalier Lavalle disap-
peared from the court, no one knew whittier
and poor Cecile was heartbroken.
Walking in the palace gardens one even
ing, she was much surprised and embar-
rassed by being accosted by the king, who
at once commanded her to listen to what
he had to say.
Pale and trembling with fear and shame
the maiden awaited the royal pleasure.
"Cecile," said Louis XIV, 81 am aware
of the barrier which exists between you
and my love, and have taken measures to
remove that barrier from my path. The
Chevalier Lavalle is in security. You will
never see him again. Now you may, with.
out disloyalty to your lost lover, yield to
my suit. Say, Cecile, shall it be so? >"
Poor Cecile stood in silence for a mo.
ment, and then, in a low tone, said:
g Your majesty ,iests with me. Youi
majesty surely has not condemned the un
happy chevalier to suffer perpetual imprs,