My Chevalier, you know what splendid powers of imagination, and what a rich, prolific fancy I possess; and well I may--for am I not a leading contributor to a fashionable ladies' magazine, besides being the auth.o.r.ess of "Confessions of a Voluptuous Young Lady of High Rank," and also the editress of the last edition of the "Memoirs of Miss Frances Hill?" Well, I entertained my aged admirer with a pretty little impromptu "romance," "got up expressly for the occasion," as the playbills have it; and he religiously believed every word of it--though, of course, it contained not one single word of truth in it. I told him that _my brother_ and myself--ha, ha!--were the children of some Duke Thingumby, (whose name I have forgotten already,) who was one of the greatest n.o.bles in France; yes, faith--our venerable papa had royal blood in his veins, while our mamma, bless her dear soul, was 'closely allied to several of the most aristocratic families in the kingdom.'

Then I trumped up a c.o.c.k-and-bull story about papa killing mamma in a fit of jealousy, having caught her in a naughty fix with the young Count Somebody-or-other, whom he also slew, and then, to wind up the fun, went to his own chamber and shot himself--great b.o.o.by as he was! Next, the notary who had charge of our princely fortune, "stepped out," as they say, and left us, poor orphans, without the price of a penny roll. I was intensely virtuous, of course, resisted a hundred tempting offers to become the kept mistress of men of wealth and rank--we came to America, and settled in Boston, where you now obtain for us a comfortable subsistence by privately teaching the use of the small sword. Ah, my Chevalier, wasn't that brought in well? Then I went on to lament that my pa.s.sions were so fiery that I could not enjoy the society of an agreeable man without danger to my honor; and concluded my story by hinting to Mr. Tickels that my virtue had never been in such peril, as when his arms had embraced me--for, said I, my senses were fast becoming intoxicated; and in a few moments more I should have been your victim, had I not, by a powerful effort, escaped from the sweet delirium which was stealing over my soul. Thus you will see, Chevalier, that my story and its accompanying remarks were both judicious and appropriate; my victim manifested the most intense interest during the recital, and I could plainly perceive the exciting effect which the concluding words of my narrative had upon him.

"My story being done, He gave me for my pains a world of sighs."

"After the completion of my delightful little romance," continued the d.u.c.h.ess, "the venerable goat attempted to subdue me by the force of _argument_; and, to do him justice, I must say that his philosophy, if not very rational, was at least very profound. He went over the entire field of moral subtleties, and proved himself an excellent sophist. He argued that as nature had given me pa.s.sions, I was justified in gratifying them, despite the opinions of the world and the prohibitions of decent society. Much more he said that I have forgotten; but the drift of his remarks was, that as I had admitted him to be the most charming and agreeable person in the world, I could not do a better thing than to throw myself into his arms, and enjoy with him, as he said, 'the rightful inheritance of every man and every woman on the face of the earth.'"

"In reply to his specious reasoning, I a.s.sured him that I couldn't think of complying with his wishes, as I should thereby lose my reputation and position in society, as a lady--which was, I added, the only consideration that restrained me from testing those joys which he had so eloquently depicted; for as to any scruples, moral or religious, I had none whatever. Then I congratulated him on his happiness in belonging to a s.e.x having the privilege of amative delights, with almost perfect impunity; and deplored my own hard fate--'for', said I, 'am I not a woman, and are not women sternly prohibited from tasting the joys of love unsanctioned by the empty forms of matrimony, under pain of having their names and characters forever blasted and disgraced?'

"Well, my Chevalier, the old wretch, seeing that he was not likely to accomplish his object by argument, adopted a new plan. Instantly, he dropped the lover, and became the fond and doting father, in which sacred capacity he proceeded to take liberties to which his former familiarities were as nothing. He began by reminding me of his gray hair and advanced age; then he asked permission to regard me as a daughter, to which I made no objection, as I wished to see how far he would operate during the personation of that character--though I shrewdly suspected that his actions would be anything but fatherly. Therefore, when he again clasped my waist, and made me lean against him, I did not repulse him, for his conduct was in furtherance of _our_ plans; and I also permitted him, (though with extreme disgust on my part,) to toy with my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and kiss me again and again, all of which he did under cover of his holy privileges as a father! The moment had then arrived for _me_ to play _my_ part; and though the old rascal's conduct and person were loathsome to me in the extreme, I affected all the languor, flutter, and ardor of pa.s.sionate longings; which he perceived with the most extravagant demonstrations of delight--"

"I know all the rest," interrupted the Chevalier, almost suffocated with laughter, in which the merry d.u.c.h.ess joined him--"I applied my eye to the key-hole just at that moment, and saw the old goat, as you properly term him, hugging you with the ferocity of a bear; I heard him say--'Let me no longer play the father; let me be thy lover--thy all--thy own Timothy--thy chosen Tickels!' Ha, ha, ha! was anything so richly ludicrous. And, by Jove, how admirably you acted, my d.u.c.h.ess! You appeared absolutely dying with rapture--your eyes seemed to express a thousand soft wishes--your face glowed as if with the heat of languishing desire; how wildly you seemed to abandon your person to his lascivious embraces! and yet I know the disgust which you must have felt towards him, at that very moment; for he was anything but a comely object, with his gray hair disordered, his bloated countenance red as fire, and his dress indecently disarranged. At that moment I noiselessly stole into the room; and just at the very instant when the old fool thought himself sure of his prey, you screamed, and pointed to my reflection in the mirror. The result was precisely as I expected; too cowardly to fight, afraid of his life, and anxious to preserve his reputation, he preferred giving me the handsome sum of five thousand dollars--which money we very much needed, and which will last us a long time, provided we exercise a reasonable degree of economy. That last five hundred, which we extracted from the parson, lasted us but little over a month; let us be more discreet hereafter, my d.u.c.h.ess--we may live splendidly, but not extravagantly; for old age will come on us by-and-by, and your beauty will fade--then what is to become of us, unless we have a snug competency in reserve? And really, my dear, you must curtail your personal expenditures; you recollect but a week ago you gave two hundred dollars for that diamond coronet you have on--and you are constantly purchasing costly dresses and superb shawls. Do you not observe the plainness of my attire? Believe me, an elegant simplicity of dress is far more attractive to men of taste, than gaudy apparel can possibly be."

"Have you done sermonizing?" cried the d.u.c.h.ess, good-humoredly--"really, you would make an admirable parson; and a far better one, I am sure, than the reverend gentleman whom we wheedled out of the five hundred dollars. But go at once and get the cheque cashed; you shall give me exactly one half, and we both shall have the privilege of expending our several portions as we choose."

"Agreed," said the Chevalier,--"but I have a little business to transact in my _workshop_, before I go to the bank. What are you laughing at?"

"Oh," answered the d.u.c.h.ess--"I cannot help thinking of that amusing old goat, Mr. Tickels. The recollection of that man will certainly kill me!

The idea of your pa.s.sing me off as your sister was so rich; he little suspected that for years we have been tender lovers and co-partners in the business of fleecing amorous gentlemen out of their money. And then to represent myself as the daughter of a French n.o.bleman!--Why, my father gained a very pretty living by going around the streets with a hand-organ, on which he played with exquisite skill, and was accompanied in his perambulations by a darling little monkey named Jacko--poor Jacko! he came to his death by being choked with a roasted potato. My mother, rest her soul! was an excellent washerwoman, but her unfortunate fondness for strong drink resulted in her being provided with bed and board in the alms house, in which excellent inst.i.tution she died, having first conferred upon the world the benefit of bringing me into existence; therefore, instead of having first seen the light within the marble walls of a French palace, I drew my first breath in the sick ward of a pauper's home. At ten years of age I was a _ballet girl_ at the theatre; at fourteen, my Chevalier, it was my good fortune to meet you; you initiated me, not only into the mysteries of love, but into the art of making money with far greater facility than as a _figurante_ in the opera. You christened me 'd.u.c.h.ess,'--took the t.i.tle of 'Chevalier,' and together we have led a life of profit, of pleasure, and of charming variety."

"And I," rejoined the Chevalier, "can boast of a parentage as distinguished as your own. My father was an English thief and pickpocket; he took pains to teach me the science of his profession, and I will venture to affirm that I can remove a gentleman's watch or pocket-book as gracefully as could my venerated sire himself, whose career was rather abruptly terminated one fine morning in consequence of a temporary valet having tied his neckcloth too tightly: he was hung in front of Newgate jail, for a highway robbery, in which he acquired but little glory and less profit,--for he only shot an old woman's poodle dog, and stole a leather purse full of halfpence. My mother was a very pretty waiting woman at an ordinary tavern; one night she abruptly stepped out and sailed for America, carrying with her my unfinished self, and the silver spoons. I saw you--admired you--made you my mistress, and partner in business, the profitable nature of which is proved by our being now possessed of the very pretty sum of five thousand dollars, the result of three hours' operation."

"You have yet one grand stroke of art to accomplish, which will place us both on the very pinnacle of fortune," said the d.u.c.h.ess. "I allude, of course, to your approaching marriage with Miss Alice Goldworthy."

The Chevalier's brow darkened, and his handsome features a.s.sumed an expression of uneasiness.

"That," said he, "is the only business in which I ever faltered. Poor young lady! she is so good, so pure, so confidingly affectionate, that my heart sinks within me when I think of the ruin which her marriage with me will bring upon her. When I gaze into her lovely countenance, and hear the tones of her gentle voice, remorse for the wrong that I contemplate towards her, strikes me to the soul, and I feel that I am a wretch indeed."

"Pooh!" exclaimed the d.u.c.h.ess, her lips curling with disdain--"you grow very sentimental indeed! Perhaps you really _love_ this girl?"

"No, d.u.c.h.ess, no--but I pity her; a devil cannot love an angel. There was a time when my soul was unstained with guilt or crime--then might I have aspired to the bliss of loving such a divine creature as Alice; but now--villain as I am there can be no sympathy between my heart and hers. Well, well--the die is cast; I will wed her, for I covet the splendid fortune which she will inherit on the death of her father. You know that the wedding day will soon arrive; but how I dread its approach! for I fear that ere I can embrace my bride within the sacred nuptial couch, she will discover that which I can never remove or entirely conceal--that _fatal mark_, the brand of crime, which I carry upon my person. She loves me; but her love would be changed to hate, were she to see that horrid emblem of guilt."

"You must conceal it from her view," rejoined the d.u.c.h.ess, shuddering--"or it will spoil all. The marriage would be annulled by the discovery of that detestable mark."

"Let us trust to fortune," said the Chevalier.--"I must leave you now, and shut myself up for an hour or so in my _workshop_. Afterwards, I shall go and convert the cheque into substantial cash."

Duvall left the room, and ascended to the highest story in the building.

Here he entered a small apartment, which contained many curious and remarkable things. A small printing press stood in one corner; in another was a pile of paper, and other materials; tools of almost every description lay scattered about, among which were the necessary implements for robbery and burglary. An experienced police officer would have instantly p.r.o.nounced the place a secret den for the printing of counterfeit bank-notes--and so it was. The gallant Chevalier was the most expert and dangerous counterfeiter in the country.

Seating himself at a trunk, on which stood writing materials, he drew forth the cheque which Mr. Tickels had given him. Having examined it long and narrowly, he took a pen and paper, and wrote an exact copy of it; this he did so admirably, that Mr. Tickels himself would have been puzzled to point out the original and genuine cheque which he had written.

"This will do," said the Chevalier, communing with himself--"to-day I will draw five thousand dollars; and within a week I will _send_ and draw five thousand more; and it shall be done so adroitly, that I will never be suspected. Hurrah! Chevalier Duvall, thy star is on the ascendant!"

That afternoon the gentleman presented the cheque at the bank; it was promptly paid, and he returned to the d.u.c.h.ess, with whom he celebrated the brilliant success of the operation, by a magnificent supper.

CHAPTER VI

_The Stolen Package.--The Midnight Outrage.--The Marriage, and Awful Discovery._

A very merry party were a.s.sembled in the elegant parlor of Mr.

Goldworthy's superb mansion in Howard street about two weeks after the events described in the last chapter. There was f.a.n.n.y Aubrey herself, looking prettier than ever, with her splendid hair tastefully braided, her graceful, _pet.i.te_ form set off to advantage by an elegant dress, and her lovely countenance radiant with the hues of health and happiness. Then there was her friend and benefactress, Miss Alice, looking very beautiful, her face constantly changing from smiles to blushes--for the next day was to witness her marriage with the Chevalier Duvall. At her side was seated her lover and affianced husband, his dark, handsome features lighted up with an expression of proud triumph, almost amounting to scorn. Then there was Corporal Grimsby, very shabby, very sarcastic, and very droll; near him sat the Honorable Timothy Tickels, wearing upon his sensual countenance a look of uneasiness, and occasionally betraying a degree of nervous agitation that indicated a mind ill at ease. At intervals he would glance suspiciously and stealthily at the Chevalier--for that was their first meeting since his scandalous adventure with the d.u.c.h.ess, and he was not without a fear that he might be exposed, in the presence of that very respectable company, in which case his reputation would be forever ruined; but his fears were groundless--the Chevalier had not the remotest idea of exposing him, having his own reasons for keeping the affair profoundly secret; and he saluted and conversed with Mr. Tickels with as much composure and politeness as though nothing had ever happened to disturb the harmony of their friendship. Mr. Goldworthy himself was present, and also a nephew of his--a handsome youth of nineteen, named Clarence Argyle; he was studying the profession of medicine at a Southern University, and was on a visit at his uncle's house. It was evident, by the a.s.siduity of his attentions to f.a.n.n.y Aubrey, that the mental and personal charms of the fair maid were not without their effect upon him; and it was equally evident by the pleased smile with which she listened to his entertaining conversation--addressed to _her_ ear alone--that the agreeable young stranger had impressed her mind by no means unfavorably.

f.a.n.n.y's brother, Charles, completed the party.

It will be necessary to explain here, that the old Corporal had never exposed the rascally conduct of Mr. Tickels towards f.a.n.n.y, in consequence of the young lady's having earnestly entreated him not to do so. He had never before met the old libertine at the house of Mr.

Goldworthy; and (until informed of the fact by f.a.n.n.y,) was ignorant that he (Tickels) was in the habit of visiting there, as a friend of the family. He treated him with coldness and reserve; but otherwise gave no indication of the contempt which he felt for the unprincipled old wretch.

As Mr. Goldworthy surveyed, with a smiling aspect, the sociable group which surrounded him, little did he suspect that the man who on the morrow was to become his son-in-law--who was to lead to the altar his only child, that pure and gentle girl--little, we say, did he suspect that the Chevalier Duvall was in reality a branded villain of the blackest dye--a man whose soul was stained by the commission of almost every crime on the dark catalogue of guilt. And as little did he think that his warm political and personal friend, the Honorable Timothy Tickels--the man of ample wealth, of unbounded influence, of exalted reputation--was at heart an abandoned and licentious scoundrel, who had basely tried to accomplish the ruin of a poor orphan girl, and was even at that very moment gloating over an infernal plan which he had formed, for getting her completely in his power, where no human aid was likely to reach her.

"To-morrow, my Alice," whispered the Chevalier in the ear of the blushing object of his villainous designs--"to-morrow, thou are mine!

Oh, the devotion of a life-time shall atone to you for the sacrifice you make, in wedding an unknown stranger, whose birth and fortunes are shrouded in a veil of mystery."

"Thy birth and fortunes are nothing to me," responded Alice, softly, as a tear of happiness trembled in her eyes--"so long as thy heart is faithful and true."

What wonder that the Chevalier's false heart grew cold in his breast, at the simple words of the confiding, gentle, unsuspecting creature whom he designed to ruin? But still he hesitated not; "her father's gold is the glittering prize which I shall gain by this marriage," thought he; and the vile, sordid thought stimulated him on, despite the remonstrances of his better nature.

"When I return to the University, we will write to each other often, will we not?" said Clarence Argyle to f.a.n.n.y, in a tone that could not be overheard by the others of the party; and the fair girl yielded a blushing consent to the proposal, so congenial to her own inclination.

The whisper and the blush were both observed by old Tickels, who said to himself--

"Humph! 'tis easy to see that those two unfledged Cupids are already over head and ears in love with each other. Have a care, Master Argyle--thy pretty mistress may be lost to thee to-morrow; go back to thy books and thy studies--for she is not for thee. Ah, the devil! I like not the look which that impertinent old fellow, who calls himself Corporal Grimsby, fastens upon me--it seems as if he read the secret thoughts of my soul! He has once already s.n.a.t.c.hed from my grasp my destined prey; let him beware how he interferes a second time, for Jew Mike is in my employ, and his knife is sharp and his aim sure!"

"That d----d scoundrel, Tickels, meditates mischief, I am convinced,"

thought the Corporal, whose keen and penetrating gaze had been for some time riveted upon the old libertine--"and I feel convinced that my pretty f.a.n.n.y is the object of his secret machinations. Beware, old Judas Iscariot!--you'll not get off so easy the next time I catch you at your tricks."

"And so, my dear Mr. Tickels, you are again a candidate for Congress,"

remarked Mr. Goldworthy, during a pause in the conversation.

"I again have that distinguished honor," was the pompous reply. "My party stands in great need of my services and influence in the House at the present crisis."

"No doubt," dryly observed the Corporal--"I would suggest that your first public act be the introduction of a bill for the punishment of seduction, and the protection of poor orphan girls."

Mr. Tickels writhed beneath the sarcasm, and turned deadly pale, although he and his tormentor were the only persons present who comprehended the secret meaning of the words--for f.a.n.n.y was too much engrossed in conversation with Argyle, to heed the remark.

"And, my good sir," rejoined the Chevalier, who was resolved to improve so good an opportunity to wound the old reprobate to the quick, (although he was ignorant of the application of the Corporal's words,)--"do not, I beseech you, neglect to insert a clause in your bill, providing also for the punishment of those respectable old wretches who bring ruin and disgrace upon families, by the seduction of wives--of daughters--or of _sisters_! I confess myself interested in the pa.s.sage of such an act, in consequence of a wealthy old scoundrel having once dared to insult grievously a near female relative of mine. The name of this old wretch--"

Tickels cast an imploring look at the Chevalier, and the latter was silent--but upon his lips remained an expression of withering scorn; for villain as he himself was, he detested the other for his consummate hypocrisy. The vicious frequently hate others for possessing the same evil qualities that characterise themselves. The character of the Chevalier was doubtless hypocritical in its nature; but _his_ hypocrisy was, in our opinion, far less contemptible than that of Tickels; the former was a hypocrite for pecuniary gain; the latter, for the gratification of the basest and most grovelling propensities that can disgrace humanity.

"Gentlemen--gentlemen!" cried Mr. Goldworthy, amazed at the turn which the conversation had taken, and comprehending neither of the allusions--"I beg you to remember that there are ladies present."

"Blood and bayonets!" exclaimed the Corporal--"you are right: I forgot the ladies, my worthy host, and crave your pardon and theirs, for my indiscreet (though I must say, _devilish appropriate_) remarks!"

The Chevalier also apologized, though with less circ.u.mlocution than the worthy Corporal; and nothing further occurred to disturb either the harmony of the company, or the equanimity of Mr. Tickels, until Mr.

Goldworthy, with a countenance full of astonishment and alarm, announced to his guests that he had, during the evening, lost from his pocket a package of bank-notes and valuable papers, amounting to some thousands of dollars, which he had procured for investment the following day in an extensive mercantile speculation--for although retired from active business, he still frequently ventured large sums in operations which were generally successful.

For half an hour previous to making his fearful discovery, he had been in private and earnest conversation with the Chevalier, concerning some arrangements relative to the approaching marriage.

"It is indeed astonishing--what can have become of it?" cried the old gentleman, searching every pocket in vain for the missing package. "I am certain that 'twas safely in my possession scarce one hour ago,"