"He lose he stomach quite, and I t'ink it great time 'fore it ebber come back."

"--Mister Francis, I desire to know the answer of Monsieur Barberie's daughter."

"Mam'selle no repond, Monsieur; pas un syllabe!"

"--Drenchers and fleams! The beauty should have been drenched and blooded--"

"He'm too late for dat, Ma.s.ser, on honor."

"--The obstinate hussy! This comes of her Huguenot breed, a race that would quit house and lands rather than change its place of worship!"

"La famille de Barberie est honorable, Monsieur mais le Grand Monarque fut un pen trop exigeant. Vraiment, la dragonade etait mal avisee, pour faire des chretiens!"

"Apoplexies and hurry! you should have sent for the farrier to administer to the sufferer, thou black hound!"

"'Em go for a butcher, Ma.s.ser, to save he skin; for he war' too soon dead."

The word dead produced a sudden pause. The preceding dialogue had been so rapid, and question and answer, no less than the ideas of the princ.i.p.al speaker, had got so confused, that, for a moment, he was actually at a loss to understand, whether the last great debt of nature had been paid by la belle Barberie, or one of the Flemish geldings. Until now, consternation, as well as the confusion of the interview, had constrained the Patroon to be silent, but he profited by the breathing-time to interpose.

"It is evident, Mr. Van Beverout," he said, speaking with a tremor in the voice, which betrayed his own uneasiness, "that some untoward event has occurred. Perhaps the negro and I had better retire, that you may question Francis concerning that which hath befallen Mademoiselle Barberie, more at your leisure."

The Alderman was recalled from a profound stupor, by this gentlemanlike and considerate proposal. He bowed his acknowledgments, and permitted Mr.

Van Staats to quit the room; but when Euclid would have followed, he signed to the negro to remain.

"I may have occasion to question thee farther," he said, in a voice that had lost most of that compa.s.s and depth for which it was so remarkable.

"Stand there, sirrah, and be in readiness to answer. And now, Mr. Francis, I desire to know why my niece declines taking the breakfast with myself and my guest?"

"Mon Dieu, Monsieur, it is not possible y repondre Les sentiments des demoiselles are nevair decides!"

"Go then, and say to her, that my sentiments are decided to curtail certain bequests and devises, which have consulted her interests more than strict justice to others of my blood--ay, and even of my name, might dictate."

"Monsieur y reflechira. Mam'selle Alide be so young personne!"

"Old or young, my mind is made up; and so to your Cour des Fees, and tell the lazy minx as much.--Thou hast ridden that innocent, thou scowling imp of darkness!"

"Mais, pensez-y, je vous en prie, Monsieur. Mam'selle shall nevair se sauver encore; jamais, je vous en repond."

"What is the fellow jabbering about?" exclaimed the Alderman, whose mouth fell nearly to the degree that rendered the countenance of the valet so singularly expressive of distress. "Where is my niece, Sir?--and what means this allusion to her absence?"

"La fille de Monsieur de Barberie n'y est pas!" cried Francois, whose heart was too full to utter more. The aged and affectionate domestic laid his hand on his breast, with an air of acute suffering; and then, remembering the presence of his superior, he turned, bowed with a manner of profound condolence, struggled manfully with his own emotion, and succeeded in getting out of the room with dignity and steadiness.

It is due to the character of Alderman Van Beverout, to say, that the blow occasioned by the sudden death of the Flemish gelding, lost some of its force, in consequence of so unlooked-for a report concerning the inexplicable absence of his niece. Euclid was questioned, menaced, and even anathematized, more than once, during the next ten minutes; but the cunning slave succeeded in confounding himself so effectually with the rest of his connexions of the half-blood, during the search which instantly followed the report of Francois, that his crime was partially forgotten.

On entering la Cour des Fees, it was, in truth, found to want her whose beauty and grace had lent its chief attraction. The outer rooms, which were small, and ordinarily occupied during the day by Francois and the negress called Dinah, and in the night by the latter only, were in the state in which they might be expected to be seen. The apartment of the attendant furnished evidence that its occupant had quitted it in haste, though there was every appearance of her having retired to rest at the usual hour. Clothes were scattered carelessly about; and though most of her personal effects had disappeared enough remained to prove that her departure had been hurried and unforeseen.

On the other hand, the little saloon, with the dressing-room and bed-room of la belle Barberie, were in a state of the most studied arrangement. Not an article of furniture was displaced, a door ajar, or a window open. The pavilion had evidently been quitted by its ordinary pa.s.sage, and the door had been closed in the customary manner, without using the fastenings. The bed had evidently not been entered, for the linen was smooth and untouched. In short, so complete was the order of the place, that, yielding to a powerful natural feeling, the Alderman called aloud on his truant niece, by name, as if he expected to see her appear from some place, in which she had secreted her person, in idle sport. But this touching expedient was vain. The voice sounded hollow through the deserted rooms; and though all waited long to listen, there came no playful or laughing answer back.

"Alida!" cried the burgher, for the fourth and last time, "come forth, child; I forgive thee thy idle sport, and all I have said of disinheritance was but a jest. Come forth, my sister's daughter, and kiss thy old uncle!"

The Patroon turned aside, as he heard a man so Known for his worldliness yielding to the power of nature; and the lord of a hundred thousand acres forgot his own disappointment, in the force of sympathy.

"Let us retire," he said, gently urging the burgher to quit the place. "A little reflection will enable us to deride what should be done."

The Alderman complied. Before quitting the place, however, its closets and drawers were examined; and the search left no further doubts of the step which the young heiress had taken. Her clothes, books, utensils for drawing, and even the lighter instruments of music, had disappeared.

Chapter XIII.

"--Ay, that way goes the game, Now I perceive that she hath made compare Between our statures--"

Midsummer-Night's Dream.

The tide of existence floats downward, and with it go, in their greatest strength, all those affections that unite families and kindred. We learn to know our parents in the fullness of their reason, and commonly in the perfection of their bodily strength. Reverence and respect both mingle with our love; but the affection, with which we watch the helplessness of infancy, the interest with which we see the ingenuous and young profiting by our care, the pride of improvement, and the magic of hope, create an intensity of sympathy in their favor, that almost equals the ident.i.ty of self-love. There is a mysterious and double existence, in the tie that binds the parent to the child. With a volition and pa.s.sions of its own, the latter has power to plant a sting in the bosom of the former, that shall wound as acutely as the errors which arise from mistakes, almost from crimes, of its own. But, when the misconduct of the descendant can be traced to neglect, or to a vicious instruction, then, indeed, even the pang of a wounded conscience may be added to the sufferings of those who have gone before. Such, in some measure, was the nature of the pain that Alderman Van Beverout was condemned to feel, when at leisure to reflect on the ill-judged measure that had been taken by la belle Barberie.

"She was a pleasant and coaxing minx, Patroon," said the burgher, pacing the room they occupied, with a quick and heavy step, and speaking unconsciously of his niece, as of one already beyond the interests of life; "and as wilful and headstrong as an unbroken colt.--Thou hard-riding imp! I shall never find a match for the poor disconsolate survivor.--But the girl had a thousand agreeable and delightful ways with her, that made her the delight of my old days. She has not done wisely, to desert the friend and guardian of her youth, ay, even of her childhood, in order to seek protection from strangers. This is an unhappy world, Mr. Van Staats!

All our calculations come to nought; and it is in the power of fortune to reverse the most reasonable and wisest of our expectations. A gale of wind drives the richly-freighted ship to the bottom; a sudden fall in the market robs us of our gold, as the November wind strips the oak of its leaves; and bankruptcies and decayed credit often afflict the days of the oldest houses, as disease saps the strength of the body:--Alida! Alida!

thou hast wounded one that never harmed thee, and rendered my age miserable!"

"It is vain to contend with the inclinations," returned the proprietor of the manor, sighing in a manner that did no discredit to the sincerity of his remark. "I could have been happy to have placed your niece in the situation that my respected mother filled with so much dignity and credit, but it is now too late----"

"We don't know that;--we don't know that;" interrupted the Alderman, who still clung to the hope of effecting the first great wish of his heart, with the pertinacity with which he would have clung to the terms of any other fortunate bargain. "We should never despair, Mr. Van Staats, as long as the transaction is left open."

"The manner in which Mademoiselle Barberie has expressed her preference, is so very decided, that I see no hope of completing the arrangement."

"Mere coquetry, Sir, mere coquetry! The girl has disappeared in order to enhance the value of her future submission. One should never regard a treaty at an end, so long as reasonable hopes remain that it may be productive to the parties."

"I fear, Sir, there is more of the coquette in this step of the young lady, than a gentleman can overlook," returned the Patroon a little dryly, and with far more point than he was accustomed to use. "If the commander of Her Majesty's cruiser be not a happy man, he will not have occasion to reproach his mistress with disdain!"

"I am not certain, Mr. Van Staats, that in the actual situation of our stipulations, I ought to overlook an innuendo that seems to reflect on the discretion of my ward. Captain Ludlow----well, sirrah! what is the meaning of this impertinence?"

"He'm waiting to see Ma.s.ser," returned the gaping Erasmus, who stood with the door in his hand, admiring the secret intelligence of his master, who had so readily antic.i.p.ated his errand.

"Who is waiting?--What does the simpleton mean?"

"I mean 'a gentle'um Ma.s.ser say."

"The fortunate man is here to remind us of his success," haughtily observed Van Staats of Kinderhook. "There can be no necessity of my presence at an interview between Alderman Van Beverout and his nephew."

The justly-mortified Patroon bowed ceremoniously to the equally disappointed burgher, and left the room the moment he had done speaking.

The negro took his retreat as a favorable symptom for one who was generally known to be his rival; and he hastened to inform the young captain, that the coast was clear.

The meeting, that instantly succeeded, was sufficiently constrained and awkward. Alderman Van Beverout a.s.sumed a manner of offended authority and wounded affection; while the officer of the Queen wore an air of compelled submission to a duty that he found to be disagreeable. The introduction of the discourse was consequently ceremonious, and punctiliously observant of courtesy.