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{Drawn and engraved expressly for The Weekly Novelette.]
[Entered according to Act of Congress, in the Clerk’s Office of
the District Court of Massachusetts.]
THE SHA LARK:
—orR,—
THE QUADROON OF LOUISIANA.
A TIIRILLING TALE OF THE LAND AND SEA.
* BY LIEUTENANT MURRAY.
[CONTINUED. |
CHAPTER VII.
THE MYSTERY OF THE BEAUTIFUL FLORIST.
Be patient, for the prize Tl bring thee
Shall hoodwink this mischance. TEMpPEst.
Tue last words of the gambler Rouillet, declaring
Pauline to be a courtezan, rang fearfully in the ears of
Henri May. He could not, in reason, doubt the purity
of the gentle girl, but the obstinate and bitter declara-
tion of his antagonist, at such a peculiar moment,
strangely affected him. Not a breath of this, however,
did he give utterance to in his frequent visits to her
house~ He kept his secret to himself, which, from the
fact of his unwillingness to divulge it, became the more
annoying and harrowing. Still, while in her presence
he felt that the charge was entirely groundless, though
Pauline had shown great consternation, and even grief,
when she heard of Rouillet’s death. Henri had himself
intormed her of the result of the encounter, and when
he saw how much she was affected by the intelligence,
the demon of jealousy fired his heart as he asked :
“Pauline, did you love this man, that you regret
him thus?”
“Love him? ah, no, Henri,” for he had taught her
to call him thus. “TI never felt.even a common friend-
ship for him, and yet I feared him strangely, and felt
that he possessed a peculiar power over me. It is not
‘\
(NEWS
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aw
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LOUIS BOUVE AND THE QUADROON.
for love of him that I regret his death. But alas that
it should have been at your hands! That is fearful.”
There was an air of mystery about Pauline, some
secret that seemed to hang over her, which greatly puz-
zled Henri. He was very sensitive and thoughtful, nor
would he refer her to the peculiar feelings by which he
was sometimes agitated, Jest he should give Pauline
pain. Mrs. Hazwell was, as we have said, a very sim-
ple person, having only a year since recovered from a
very dangerous fever, that had greatly weakened her
mind ; while her husband was so much occupied in
business, as rarely to be seen at home. Though he
knew that Pauline’s heart was of a most tender and
susceptible nature, still he thought it strange that there
seemed to be so little evidence of affection between her
and her parents. True, she never mentioned them but
with respect, but there was a want of that tenderness
and affectionate sympathy that one looks for, in all
classes, between parent and child. Henri yearned to
speak more fully of these matters, and once he did ex-
press a fecling that seemed to startle Pauline, and she
at once rose and left the room in tears. Though this
behaviour heightened the mystery in his mind, yet it
showed that he was treading on forbidden ground ; and
he never again referred to the subject, though it was
often in his mind.
Then at last came to him the thought, as he sat ana-
lyzing these things, * What relation do I bear to her ?
What are my designs concerning her, that I have a
right thus to catechize and question her? Why am I
so very particular about Pauline’s virtue? Is it in my
care and keeping? Am I its protector, or am I not
rather, like a thief, striving to steal it away? Good
God! what a wretch I am! Surely I know fall wel!
that I cannot marry this girl; and yet I go, day after
day, and sit by her side, thus knitting my own heart
and hers more firmly together. Am I blind—a fool, or
deranged? Surely Iam either losing my wits or my
onor. Can it be that I would ruin the innocence of
that dear, confiding girl, and betray the confidence she
reposes in me ?”
Henri thus talked to himself, and paced the room
with hasty steps, until the hour came round for his
usual evening visit. But he walked his room only the
more rapidly ; now he looked at his watch, and “now
[See page 18.]
turned again in his restless movements. He seemed
hesitating between some good resolution and strong
inclination. Suddenly he reached his hand to the bell-
rope, and rang furiously. The bell was answered.
“‘A bottle of brandy,” said Henri to the waiter,
hastily.
Thus do men fly to'the bottle to drown the nice
sense of right and wrong that conscience awakens within
them! And thus did Henri May drink freely, aad at
each glass became more and more at his ease. He
whistled gaily, put on his cap, and, taking his cane,
wended his way carelessly towards the Hazwells. It
was later, considerably so, than his usual time for call-
ing; and as he entered, Pauline looked inquiringly at
him, but with a look so laden with love and pleasure at
his coming, that his heart sunk within him, and he stood
abashed before the gentle and beautiful face of her who
was the object of his regard,—not of his love, for, had
he truly loved, he would never again have seen her,
unless with the honorable purpose of marriage. It is
foolish to talk of love when we seek the gratification of
our own passions at the cost of another; true love is
devoted to the good of the object it loves—that object
is its all. There is no consideration paramount to the
affection it has excited, and all must be sacrificed for
the loved object—else it is selfish and untrue.
Henri found that even the foreign stimulant he had
taken would not still his heart when in that beloved
presence ; and he even feared tor himself, lest he should
say that which in honor he could not revoke. Pauline
saw that he was peculiarly agitated ; her quick discern-
ment detected that all was not right with him, and she
asked him seriously it he was well. He told her he
was not, and indeed his brain was on fire with the con-
tending emotions that actuated him and with the spirit
he had drank. Tow gently she bathed his heated tem-
ples—how tenderly parted the hair from his forehead—
and how innocently she begged to know if she could in
any way alleviate his pain! It was too’ much for
Henri; he could restrain his feelings no longer; and
had his life depended upon his silence, he would have
spoken as he then did to her by his side,
It was a soft, summer evening, and they were togeth-
er alone in the little parlor af the house. Wenri had
drawn her ta 4 seat by his side, and the beautiful eyes
