Le Solitaire (novel)  

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Le Solitaire (1821) is a French novel by Vicomte D'Arlincourt. At the time of its publication it was a bestseller, but it is now largely forgotten.

The book achieved an extraordinary celebrity and in the space of several months, it was reprinted a dozen times; it was translated into ten languages; there were no fewer than seven operas based on its story, and twice as many dramatic adaptations; and it was the subject of innumerable songs, parodies, paintings and lithographs. The success of his next three novels, Le Renégat in 1822, Ipsiboé in 1823, and L'Étrangère in 1825, was almost as great.

Adulated above all by his female readership, who saw him as "the new Ossian", he was harpooned by critics. His plot points were judged impossible, his characters cardboard, and his imagery grotesque.

His taste for syntactic inversions, with which he generously adorned his prose, led to the nickname "the inversive Viscount", and the result was memorably parodied in Illusions perdues by Balzac (who, nevertheless, was strongly influenced in his first works by the Gothic style of d'Arlincourt).

The critic Charles-Marie de Féletz wrote that "Le Solitaire has so far been translated into every single known language, except of course French."

Later assessments were no more favourable. His novels, now classified as "gothic", were then labelled frénétique: "containing a mysterious intrigue centred on some illustrious and guilty wretch who traipses through a thousand violent incidents towards a bloody catastrophe."

English translation

PREFACE

TO THE SIXTH PARIS EDITION.

THE following work has passed through no less than six editions in the short space of six months. So deep is the interest with which it has been welcomed by the Parisian public, that every channel of public opinion continually conveys to us some new demonstration of the earnest admiration it excites. Music, painting, poetry, engraving, lithography, and in short, all talents and all arts combine to give celebrity to the Man of the Wild Mountain, and the Maiden of Underlach. The most celebrated artists of the French capital have delineated the Mysterious Unknown, and the Virgin of the Vale, from the more picturesque scenes of the novel ; and their paintings are to be ready by the next exhibition at the Museum. romantic and fascinating display of scenery and character, so conspicuous throughout the whole work, has given rise to fourteen dramatic pieces. Seven of these are engaged for performance at Parisian theatres ; two have already been enacted, under the titles of the Solitary, and the Wild Mountain, and notwithstanding the summer heat, have invariably attracted crowded houses. The But not only Paris and France, but all Europe, have hailed this star on the literary horizon. The Solitary has been translated into four different languages ; it has appeared in several foreign capitals,

iv PREFACE. and in July had reached the second edition at Mad rid ; where, also, it had been brought forward at the Theatre de la Cruz, as a heroic comedy, in three acts, called, " El Solitario del Monte." These triumphs of the author, the Viscount D'Arlincourt, are as rapid and as rare as those of the author of Waverly ; his style even has been as much admired, for it combines the pastoral simplicity of Florian, and the classical and poetical elevation of Fenelon, with the rich and splendid descriptions of Ariosto, the poet of " lady-love and chivalry." The writer excels in the pathetic, and, as the Parisian journals have justly remarked in their unanimous applause, (however opposite their political interests, ) " the lute of love and grief has never made the heart vibrate to more touching emotions."

THE SOLITARY.

CHAPTER I.

NOT far from Morat Lake, in the midst of the mountains of ancient Helvetia, in the depth of a valley coursed by a foaming torrent, and crowned by gloomy forests, stood, in the fifteenth century, the Monastery of Underlach. A few days before the famous battle of Morat, Charles the Bold had given up this Abbey and its riches to the eager fury of his soldiers. All the monks of Underlach were massacred. The rock on which these unfortunates fell was shown to travellers by the peasants of the country. A miracle , according to the tale of the mountaineers , perpetuated the remembrance of this act of barbarity of the too celebrated Burgundian. The stone which served as a scaffold to the pious victims, had preserved the hue of homicide, and the blood of the slaughtered priests still seemed trickling from the impurpled granite. This rock, a monument of terror, which overhung the brow of the torrent, and bore the ineffaceable traces of crime, was named the Terrific Peak. 6 THE SOLIARY. Some years had elapsed after this fearful event, when the young René, duke of Lorraine, returned to the possession of his states, which had been invaded by the Burgundians. He had won from Charles the Bold the immortal victory of Nancy. Not far from the walls of that city, the disfigured and mutilated body of Charles was drawn from a frozen pond, into which his page declared he had seen him fall during the battle , pierced by a mortal wound. The Switzers , delivered from this formidable enemy, had long celebrated their triumph by public rejoicings, and the Helvetian valley of Underlach enjoyed profound peace. The car of night rolled silently over the plains of Heaven ; the snow fell in large flakes , and the winds blew furiously among the old arcades of the Convent of Underlach. The Baron d'Herstall, the possessor of the abbey, an old man, bent with the weight of years, lit his lamp at the expiring embers ofthe hearth of the tower he inhabited, and slowly turned his steps towards the chapel, where every evening he addressed his prayer to the throne of grace. Herstall prostrated himself before the holy altars :- "God of Heaven !" exclaimed he, " canst thou par don the plaints of sorrow ? Has death forgotten me ? Life has long been to me but an exhausted field, a barren land, covered with dry stubble and bitter weeds. Oh ye, whose sacred songs once resounded under these vaulted roofs ; ye holy, ye sainted shades ! speak! have I not wandered long enough through the darkness of this world ? Will not Heaven yet open for methat gate of light which man calls the tomb ?" THE SOLITARY. 7 He ceased the cries of the funereal bird and the dreary moans of winter, were all that interrupted the silence of night. Herstall arose ; surrounded by the tombs ofthe abbey, pale , motionless-his lamp in his hand, and his hollow cheeks channelled by tears-he seemed the spirit of grief, hovering over the ashes of the dead. A slight noise recalled him to himself. It was the sweet voice of innocence pronouncing the name of Herstall, and the old man perceived that the tender and sympathizing Elodia knelt weeping by his side. The young andorphan Elodia was the niece of Her tall, and resided with him in the monastery. " My father," said the gentle virgin of Underlach, " thou askest death from Heaven ; and I , left alone upon the earth, what would become of me ?" As she spoke, she pressed to her breast the cold hand of the aged man ; her voice died on her lips , and her silent tears finished the reproach. The pale light of the lamp of Herstall alone illumined this touching scene. The old man, without answering, gazed for a moment on his young ward. Like those heavenly forms which the imagination of man pictures in the first happy days of life, which he muses on in the wilds of reverie, and which his heart calls for at the age of love, Elodia appeared on the earth more blooming than the rose of morning-more pure than the balmy air of spring. The grace ofher form equalled the perfection of her features. Under the dusky arches of the chapel, fair as the lily of the valley, lovely as the dawning light over the eastern hills, the beauty of Elodia surpassed every ideal 8 THE SOLITARY. image, and seemed a marvellous vision. On the banks of the Scamander, she would have recalled to mind the mistress of Paris ; in the fields of Thessalia, Apollo had thought he again saw his Daphne ; and beneath the sky of Arcadia, Alpheus had taken her for Arethusa. " Unfortunate child !" said Herstall as he turned his head aside , and spoke in a low tone, " how I pity thee !" Then retracing the shadowy nave, the old man, followed by the orphan, re- entered the high tower ofthe abbey. The Baron d'Herstall had past the first years of his life at the court of Burgundy, and had rendered his name illustrious in the field of battle . Enamoured of one of the most beautiful women of the kingdom, he became her adored husband. The birth of a child consummated their felicity ; and more favoured lovers never embarked together on the tempestuous stream of life. Lasting joy, however, is not the lot of man ; prosperity is often a transient prelude to adversity, and sheds but a transient splendour ; fortune, the cruel ally of death, crowns her favourites with flowers to send them drest to the sacrifice. Herstall lost his cherished companion . He then placed upon his daughter all his affection, and all his hopes. Endowed with exquisite beauty, the young Irena soon became the pride and the idol of her father. The Duchess of Aroville, a distant relation , dying, left her immense wealth to the only child of the Baron. By her birth, her fortune , and her beauty, Irena appeared intended for a most brilliant destiny. THE SOLITARY. Charles the Bold, the most powerful prince of Europe, the handsomest man of his kingdom, and the most famous hero of the age, was admired by Irena, and he was equally fascinated by her charms. The beautiful heiress, surrounded by all the seductions of love, soon disappeared from paternal protection. The daughter ofHerstall was carried away by Charles, as was the daughter of Ceres by the sovereign of Tenarus ; but alas ! no Lethe flowed where the hapless Irena was to dwell. The Baron gave himself up to the most gloomy despair.-Days, hours, months passed, and the fate of Irena was still unknown. -Herstall, in the whole universe, had seen only his daughter ; nothing now remained for him to contemplate ; the heart of Irena was the only one in whose tenderness he delighted→→→ and the heart of Irena had entirely deserted him. On his daughter, resplendent with attractions , he had, in some measure, founded his glory-and that daughter, misled, had become his shame. The noble warrior retired from court ; in the depth of his retreat a letter reached him, in which an un known hand had traced these lines :-. "Herstall -the wretched, the repentant Irena, from her dying bed would raise her voice to her father. She calls thee ; grant her prayer quickly if thou wouldst receive the last sigh of the victim of the perfidious Charles. " Herstall, informed of the abode of Irena, hastened to the ancient castle , where, alone and abandoned, she expiated her dereliction. He arrived within sight of the turrets of the feudal building ; he was in A 2* 10 THE SOLITARY. the middle of the avenue, when the gates of the castle opened ; a hearse crossed its broad court, and the sound of the requiem smote his ear ! -Herstall was never again to see his daughter. Irena had become a mother ; her child , born in tears, had but opened its eyes to the light, and closed them again. The same grave received the two victims. Herstall followed the funeral procession. He erected to his daughter a magnificent mausoleum . He founded several hospitals in her name ; he distributed her whole inheritance to the distressed of the province ; and wishing to terminate his career far from the world, and to weep over his sorrows in peace, he came to the solitudes of Switzerland to hide his very existence. The swallow began to appear about the old arches ofthe monastery, announcing to the mountaineers the return ofthe season of flowers . Placed in the midst ofthe wild rocks of Helvetia, like Oasis in the desert, the valley of Underlach exhaled from her smiling bowers and enamelled meadowsthe soft sighs of spring, the divine perfumes of nature. From the turrets of the abbey, in the blue horizon, might be perceived the Alps, whose summits, covered with snow, arose in fantastic pyramids and dazzling points, presenting to the eye of the traveller, their bare, white, and rugged sides ; these menacing peaks seem the gigantic skeletons of nature. At some distance their steep ridges, their abrupt and broken forms, picture to the deceived imagination, perspectives of colonnades, pilasters, and particoes. These rocks still bear the THE SOLITARY. 11 sublime impress of creation ; they appear through the changeful and airy vapour as obelisks of some rude and early age, the palaces of time and nature. Some of these terrible mountains have a striking effect around the hamlet of Underlach. One of the roads which descend to the valley, winds along a precipitous rock, apparently half overthrown by some volcanic convulsion. The summit of this peak is clothed with eternal snow, brilliant as the first day it fell. Its unalterable whiteness shines more strongly, contrasted with the flowery meads, the blooming groves, and the green forests of Underlach. An impetuous flood rolled through the middle of the valley, skirted by dark pines and druid woods. The rocks through which the torrent had forced a passage, were covered with interlacing vines, hanging over the abyss . Spring had just touched them with green. From under their rustic arch, the wave escaped boiling and foaming ; farther on, calm and limpid, it meandered towards the velvet turf of the mo nastery. Flora, borne by zephyrs, had shed from her virgin urn celestial gifts on Helvetia. The nightingale joined her melodious accents to the gentle murmur of the cascades. Happy destiny of nature ! Spring restores to her life and gayety ; the tree that has seen a hundred winters is reanimated by the vivifying breath of the season of love ; the languishing flower is renewed by the dawn, and all creation celebrates the return of spring. Thou, O man ! art sovereign of the world by intellect, but often the victim of that privilege : overwhelmed by sufferings or be 12 THE SOLITARY. trayed by pleasures-frozen with years, or intoxicated with youth ; thou, alone , of all nature, springest not anew with the dawn, and revivest not with the spring! Sunk in religious meditations, the orphan of the monastery gazed from the grated windows of the tur. ret, over the laughing valley of Underlach. On the west, and towards Morat Lake, a high mountain, covered with wood, caught her eye, and more particu larly fixed her attention. "Mother Ursula," said Elodia to the old portress of the convent, " how bril, liantly the last tints of the sun reflect on yonder immense rock !" "Holy Virgin ! " exclaimed Ursula, "look another way; that is the Wild Mountain." "Have our mountaineers any huts among those thick woods ?" continued the orphan. " Huts on the Wild Mountain!" repeated Ursula with horror ; " and who would dare to build them ? Who would dare to fix a dwelling there ?" Elodia smiled. "This forest is, then, very fearful , and that mountain formidable indeed." " There dwells the Solitary," said Ursula, and trembled at the name she had pronounced. The niece of Herstall, fearing to afflict her, would question her no more, but descending lightly the steps of the tower, she plunged into the woods of the monastery. Who then is this Solitary of the Wild Mountain, " thought Elodia. " His name alone excites terror, and yet the whole valley resounds with his benevolent deeds." Walking quickly, she soon crossed the park. Near a large moat separating the gardens of the monastery from the meadows of the hamlet, on a flowery plot, was a rural pavilion, whence she could trace the THE SOLITARY. 13 whole course ofthe valley. The sky, lightly covered with purple clouds, showed at intervals only, the rays of the setting sun. The indefinite summits of the distant mountains began to mingle with the hazy horizon. Some young peasants were dancing on the green turf with the girls of the valley. Their features sparkled with gayety-their eyes shone with love. The hats of the shepherdesses were crowned with spring garlands, and the long tresses oftheir hair floated on the breath of the zephyr. They frolicked, as the nymphs of Arcadia who gambolled to the sound of Pan's flute, on the shores ofthe river Ladon. The sonorous voice of a mountaineer, of a sudden began the following song : Oye, by dark misfortunes tried! Ife'er some hand unseen supplied Your wants, with consolations sweet, Fall at the Solitary's feet ! But shepherds blythe, who darkly fear Mysterious powers, and quake to hear The name of spectres, or the grave, Shun ye the Solitary's cave ! The mountaineers paused, for a moment, to listen to the song. The accents ceased. litary's cave !" was taken up in "Shun ye the Sochorus by the young nymphs of Underlach ; and while the joyous roundelay attracted the old, to view the young and happy group, the redoubled echoes repeated, " Shun ye the Solitary's cave !" The village song continued. Lovers ! whom peace and hope forsook, Till some kind god compassion took, 14 THE SOLITARY. And at the altar bade ye meet, Fall at the Solitary's feet ! But ye by timorous fancies led, Who secret powers regard with dread ; And horror there, and crime, espy, Old men —the Solitary fly! " Old men!-the Solitary fly!" replied the gay crowd. The dances went on, but the sky was of a browner hue ; the last rays of the star of day were shaded by a threatening cloud, and the maid of Underlach remarked, with surprise, that the lively dancing tune of the peasants, and the ambiguous words ofthe mountaineer's song ; the noisy chorus of the village troop, and the plaintive murmur of the cascade ; the gay frolic, in the mossy glen, and the gloom of the horizon, -every thing in the valley was in contrast. Oye, whom in your humble cot, Some form unknown in mercy sought, And lent the sufferers succour meet, Fall at the Solitary's feet ! But, should the veil of goodness hide Amonsterfoul, with murder dyed ! Should, ' mid the flowers, a serpent lie ! Virgins !-the Solitary fly ! "Virgins !-the Solitary fly !" replied the village choir. The shades of evening enveloped the woods ; hand in hand, the young inhabitants of the hamlet dispersed, still dancing. The dresses of the peasants began to be scarcely distinguishable among the trees in the distant meadows. The groups of young girls disappeared not far from the margin of THE SOLITARY 15 the torrent, as the naïads of Etolia on the borders of the Achelous. Their receding voices were lost in the air, as remembrance in the heart of man. Elodia heard no more, except some distant sounds, some fugitive notes ; but her excited imagination retained the pastoral chorus, and the breeze of night still rung in her ears the last words of the mountaineer: "Virgins the Solitaryfly !?? 56 The Baron d'Herstall advanced towards his niece ; he was followed by Father Anselmo, an ancient and revered priest, the pastor of Underlach . Starting , from her deep reverie at the approach of her adoptedfather, the orphan turned her steps homeward. Venerable Anselmo, " said she, after a silence of a few moments, " have you ever seen the Solitary of the Wild Mountain ?" "But once ;" replied the priest, surprised at the question. "Is he an old man ?" said the young maiden. "His features are as yet unknown to me," answered Anselmo. 66 "One evening," continued he, as I returned from Avanches, my road lay along the borders of Morat Lake. A freezing wind from the north blew on the bare shore. The stars were obscured by dark clouds, the snow which covered rock and plain with its white mantle, was all that enlightened nature. All at once, I perceived a boat, which strove to cross the lake, agitated by the winds, and covered with ice A fisherman, a young woman, and an infant, filled the frail bark. By dint of rowing, the little freight had nearly reached the shore, when a gust of wind swept the bark against a rock, and it sunk among the ice : I screamed with horror. . . . . The fisherman soon re- 16 THE SOLITARY. " appeared above the water, holding the young woman. They reached the shore. The man, benumbed and overcome, gave himself up to despair : his companion fell upon her knees, and her lips repeated the distracted cry of My Child ! My Child !—At that moment, a stranger of majestic size appeared on the shore of the lake. Throwing from him the black mantle in which he was shrouded, he plunged into the midst ofthe waves. He opened his way between the cakes of ice, and reached the rock against which the bark had struck ; he sunk, and disappeared for a time ; then, swimming with one hand, and with the other supporting the feeble being snatched from the depths ofthe lake, he arose, on one of the rocks of the beach, like the god ofthe waters. The tender mother clasped her child to her bosom. Bathed in tears, she fell at the stranger's feet, and embraced his knees. Ihastened towards them ; the stranger perceived me, and wrapped himself in his mantle. " I recommend these unfortunate people to you," said he to me ; complete my work. " The astonishing man had disappeared. -It was not far to the hut of the exhausted fisherman, who now opened his eyes, and staggering, arose ; the young woman supported her husband, and I , myself, carried the infant. We thus reached the humble cabin. There a beneficent hand had already kindled a large fire. The torpid limbs of the fainting couple were reanimated by the genial warmth ; the child returned to life ; and I observed , on leaving the grateful pair, that an invisible band had placed on the table a purse of gold. " 66 THE SOLITARY. 17 . " Then Wholly absorbed by the recital of Anselmo, Elodia had, by turns, shed tears of fear and pity. you saw not the features of the generous stranger ?" said she : " No, " replied Anselmo, " I was not near enough ; the night was dark ; I only heard his voice." "How then knew you that it was the Solitary ?" " By the description I had heard from the mountaineers ; by his majestic mien, his mysterious conduct, his remarkable courage, and his singular benevolence. " Herstall approaching his friend, inquired if he had ever attempted to see again the wonderful man. "I should have attempted it in vain," replied Anselmo. " The Solitary steals from the eye of the curious ; he avoids all intercourse ; he secretes himselffrom our search, and only allows himself to be seen, now and then, by the poor and miserable beings whom he succours. His face is scarcely known to the inhabitants of our valleys. He shows himself, say they, under every varying form and appearance. Fascinated by the marvellous, and not seeing him where he should be, they seek him where he cannot be found. Hence arise the exaggerated tales of the mountain peasants. One declares he saw him cross the lake at nightfall, walking on the water with firm steps, like the apostle, at the voice ofthe Lord. Another has seen him dart from the rock, into the torrent, like the Ligurian king at the fall of Phaëton. Another receiving from his hand a draught which restored him to health, assures the listener, that his forehead beamed with rays of light, like the Angel of the Mount, announcing a resurrection . Another, saved 3 18 THE SOLITARY. from penury by his unsolicited and generous gifts , has beheld him in the midst of the storm, rolling through the air in a fiery chariot, as Elisha, by the banks of the Jordan. The object of love, of terror, and of admiration , the subject that interests all, the Solitary ofthe Wild Mountain, full of devoted benevolence, is shrouded in the mysterious and the marvellous." "How strange the portrait !" cried Herstall ; "but you, Anselmo, what is your opinion ofthe Solitary ?" " As yet, " answered Anselmo, " I dare not judge him ; his actions announce a magnanimous soul ; but in spite of myself, I dread him. There are great villains who resemble great men." " A villain ! " said the startled Elodia ; " do you think him such ?" "No, " said Anselmo, " I reject the thought with horror ; but why is he buried in mystery ? why does he fly all human society ? why, like the beasts of the forest, does he delight in savage rocks, and wild caverns ? Virtue walks unveiled ; mystery was not made for her. He who is pure in heart lays open his inmost thoughts ; he does not fear the light ; he neither hates nor flies his kind : wo to him who, mistrusting his brother man, would surround his existence with darkness and delusions !" " But do not let us yet condemn the Solitary," said Herstall. " Perhaps misfortunes have rendered him eccentric. No longer deceived by the illusions of life , he finds charms in nought but solitude. Is that a crime ;-is it even an error ? How many pious solitaries, irreproachable in their lives, have passed their last years in secluded retreats. Alas ! I myself, who once thought on days of serenity and peace, in the midst of a THE SOLITARY. 19 the torments of life ; who mused on calms, though tossed on the restless waves, and pursued the phantom happiness through the populous desert of the civilized world-I , myself, without the sacred duty which attaches me to the Orphan of Underlach, should have long since hid an existence exempt from remorse, in some distant and inaccessible solitude. The unknown stranger ofthese valleys does not hate his kind, since their sufferings excite his compassion, and engage his good offices : he does not fly them, since he appears wherever the accents of despair and grief are heard. Why suspect crime, where every thing bespeaks virtue ?" " I may be wrong,' replied Anselmo, " I may be deceived ; I would wish to believe so ; I condemn myself; and yet it is impossible for me not to dread that impenetrable man, who resembles the gloomy gulf which the plummet cannot fathom." As he spoke, the two friends separated under the walls of the abbey. 29 Remote from the world, and devoted to pious duties, Anselmo had passed, in Helvetia, a life oftranquillity, undisturbed, except by a single event. The Prior of Underlach, the friend of his youth, was murdered before his eyes by the soldiers of Charles the Bold ; he himself escaped miraculously from the fury of the Burgundians . Anselmo possessed every evangelic and apostolic virtue ; but to these he united the intolerant severity of the priests of the fifteenth century. In following the impulse of his heart, Anselmo was an indulgent minister in pursuing the line of his principles, he was sometimes of the fanatic monk. His natural temper was gentle as the peace- 20 THE SOLITARY. ful stream that rolls a fertilizing wave ; yet, seized with sudden inspiration , like the burning volcano, he could hurl fire and thunder on erring mortals . Endowed with acute sensibility and heroic courage, wil . ling to sacrifice his life for a fellow creature , he thought no efforts, however extravagant, impossible to Christian charity. Mild and unaffected, yet imaginative ; calm, but enthusiastic, two very dissimilar characters were united in Anselmo. This Fenelon ofthe valley might have been a Samuel. Elodia had just attained her eighteenth year. Educated in solitude, simple, kind, and chaste , she had heard tell ofthe world, its pleasures, its pomp, and its dangers, without even bestowing upon them a second thought ; her desires never extended beyond the Vale of Underlach ; to her it was the universe. She had heard descriptions of other climes, and of other lands, without wishing to know them. Gazing from the turrets of the abbey, over the enchanting scenes around, she wanted not a more extensive survey of the earth, to admire the glorious works of creation. A single glance of the vast globe is enough to fill a whole human life with wonder, as the single name of God suffices for every thought of a religious soul. A stranger to human passions , which her imagination could scarcely comprehend , Elodia could not believe in the powers of evil ; and yet, like the timid fawn at the approach of the hunter, often agitated by vague terrors, and easily alarmed, she trembled at the slightest sound. Feeble as the reed ofthe lake, she needed a firm support, a something to which her THE SOLITARY. 21 heart might incline, her gentle wishes be raised, and in which her innocence might find protection. The mountaineers, although accustomed to see her descend to the valley, paused to gaze upon her, whenever she appeared. Following her with their eyes, as she wandered among the clumps of trees about the abbey, they were almost persuaded that her enchanting form was that of some celestial visitant. The beauty of the orphan, and her noble and graceful mien, seemed to them almost supernatural, and the whole valley had named her, the Dove of the Monastery. The heiress of an illustrious name, and destined to possess an immense fortune, Elodia had lost both ; but, never having known the splendid vanities of rank and wealth, she felt not the deprivation. Her father, the Count Saint-Maur, was born in the states of Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy, and had directed in the field of battle the first assays of the Count de Charolais, afterwards Charles the Bold. Louis XI., the then dauphin of France, flying from paternal anger, had taken refuge at the court of Philip, and became linked to the young son of that Duke by a friendship almost fraternal. " The Count Saint Maur, though much older than the young princes, was the companion of their pleasures, and seldom absent from them. But in characters as opposite ás those of Louis and Charles, sentiments of affection could not be lasting. Louis XI. , deeply versed in dissimulation, was néver more formidable than when he seemed least to be feared. The more the words of friendship flowed 3* 22 THE SOLITARY. from his lips, the stronger were the feelings of hatred nurtured in his heart. Jealous and perfidious, he never forgave the appearance of superiority and power. To humble the great, and advance the vile, was his constant system. Ambitious, perjured and sanguinary, he sported with every noble sentiment, and trusted only to the depraved. Superstitious without piety, he neither fulfilled the duties of son , nor father, nor husband , nor friend. And yet this man has obtained the title of Restorer of the French Monarchy. Can it be possible that a king can possess any great or appropriate quality, without one of the virtues of a Christian -Charles, on the contrary, the young companion of Louis, was generous and sincere ; he was enthusiastic and magnanimous ; but abandoning himself, without reserve, to the violence of his passions , he announced from his very dawn, the fiery warrior, the unconquerable prince, whom history should term the Bold, the Invincible, and the Terrible. The death of Charles VII. called the dauphin to the throne, and war was declared between France and Burgundy. Accompanied by the Count Saint Maur, Charles marched at the bead of his father's armies. He obtained a celebrated victory at Montlḥery, was on the point of taking Louis prisoner, and com. menced the siege of Paris. The king negotiated ; the famous treaty of Conflans was signed bythe two princes, and the successful hero returned to his states. Charles became Duke of Burgundy, by the death -of Philip the Good ; he gave himself up to his natu- THE SOLITARY. 23 ral impetuosity of feeling, and trusting to his brilliant valour, placed no bounds to his ambition. He levied innumerable imposts to meet the expenses of the `armies he raised, and, like the king of Epirus, he wished to subjugate the universe before he permitted himself to rest. He had united several states to Burgundy ; he wished to add Lorraine also. Desiring Alsace, and expecting to obtain possession of Switzerland, he pro- 'posed to extend his dominions by the addition of Germany, and to found a Belgic kingdom, with the regalia of which he should be invested by the Emperor Maximilian himself. Full of wealth and honours, the husband of the Baron d'Herstall's sister, and the father of Elodia, the Count Saint-Maur never left his prince's side ; beloved by the people and the army, enjoying the highest consideration at court, he dared to oppose the warlike projects of his young sovereign. Uneasy at the growing greatness of Burgundy, Louis XI. , by the aid of emissaries, sowed dissension among the troops of Charles, and infused into his provinces the spirit of revolt. The Count Saint Maur thought he might venture onsome remonstrances with his former pupil. He placed before him the danger of his enterprises , and predicted reverses to the conqueror. " My Prince," said the Count, as he finished his discourse, "I have long had the honour of commanding your armies, I have often obtained your confidence , I have always merited your esteem ; if my counsels to day offend you, permit me to retire from court. I would 24 THE SOLITARY. not wish to remain where I can no longer be useful." "Enough!" replied the Duke harshly, "begone !" The Count Saint-Maur loved his young sovereign. He slowly crossed the royal gallery, and Charles fol lowed him with his eyes. $ At this time the Duke of Burgundy united to the heroism of the soldier both ardour and sensibility of feeling. He was then far from being the monster who, afterwards, a victim to his passions, carried to his grave the execrations ofthe age. Charles turned to recal his ancient friend, when a dreadful tumult was heard in the palace yard. The people in a state of insurrection, and supplied with arms, were hastening to the royal residence with loud and confused menaces. The Duke listened, and among the vociferations of the multitude, distinguished the shouts of "Long live Saint-Maur !" The guards ofthe king endeavoured to repulse the assailants, and engaged in a bloody contest. Charles the Bold seized his sword, and followed by some knights, rushed forward to disperse the rebels in per son. Saint-Maur, fearful for his master's safety, wished to stop him. "Leave me, traitor !" said the furious prince. "Long live Saint- Maur, " was again the distant rallying ery of the gathering populace. Charles turned to his warriors-" Behold !" said he, in a frenzy of rage, " behold the chief of the revolt ; let his triumph be short !" He had no sooner spoken, than Saint-Maur, surrounded on every side, fell, covered with wounds. The public voice accused the prince of having himself immolated his friend. Charles headed the engagement ; by his prompt pre- THE SOLITARY. 25 sence and valour he dissipated the rebellious assembly, and took prisoners the leaders ofthe conspiracy. He re- entered the royal abode . to enjoy his success, when suddenly his eyes met the mangled body ofthe faithful Saint-Maur, as it was dragged into the palace court. Shuddering, he recollected , that that day he had sunk the hero in the assassin . But one crimé must be supported by another. The Duke of Burgundy declared the Count of Saint-Maur guilty of high treason. " He was arrested," said he, " just as he was about to put himself at the head of the rebels, who were calling for him ; and the state has been des livered from her most cruel enemy." The body of the pretended chief was given up to the fury of the soldiery. Aroyal decree confiscated the vast wealth of the victim ; and the widow of Saint-Maur, with nothing but her infant daughter, fled to the mountains of Helvetia. The Baron D'Herstall then dwelt on the borders of Morat Lake, not far from the monastery of which he afterwards became the possessor. The Countess of Saint- Maur, exhausted with misfortunes, sufferings, and fatigue, threw herself expiring into the arms of her brother. " Herstall," said she, a few hours be fore she died, " I recommend my daughter to you ; ifpossible, never let her leave these peaceful vales ; let her never know the vanities of life , and how much they cost their possessors. Had I been born in the mountain hut, like the waters ofthe torrent I might have been troubled by some storms, but the strife past, 1 should again have reflected the azure of serene days. Oh ! my brother ! educate Elodia in all 26 THE SOLITARY. the simplicity of the pastoral age ; speak to her of kings and courts as shoals and breakers, which only hardy mariners dare venture to approach." The mother of Elodia was buried in the vault of the chapel of the monastery ; and her last prayer was granted. The Baron d'Herstall, overwhelmed with sorrows, renounced the world for ever, and devoted the remainder of his life to the care of the destitute orphan. THE SOLITARY. 27

CHAPTER II.

THE Baron d'Herstall, Anselmo, and Elodia, met in the morning, at the hour of repast, in one of the old halls ofthe abbey. "Myfather," said the daughter of Saint- Maur, addressing the Pastor of Underlach, " there is a rock near Morat Lake, which the inhabitants of this neighbourhood dare not approach. They say a bleeding phantom often appears on the Terrific Peak. What can have given rise to these popular terrors ? What am I to think of the tales of the Valley ? What is this phantom ?" " If you had travelled through Switzerland," replied Anselmo , "you would not interrogate me on the superstitions which now surprise you. Every village of our mountains has its wonder. Here it is a phantom, clothed with a scarlet robe ; at Valengin, it is a fountain , from which starts a fiery serpent ; at Bevaix , it is an old and oracular willow tree ; at Verrieres, it is an isolated tower which walks occasionally ; at Merligen, it is a black pool , inhabited by a white fairy ; at Grindelwald, it is a column which is changed for a few minutes into a cascade whenever a virgin of the canton dies on the sixth day of the moon. Finally, in this present age, there is not a hamlet of Helvetia, that has not its wizards and peculiar apparitions. Man, an effaced impress , an imperfect image of the Deity, originally formed for an abode of happi- 28 THE SOLITARY. ness, but cast since his fall on a land of exile and sojournment, appears to preserve a confused idea of his first destination ; he bears within him a vague and mysterious desire for supernatural things. Created for an immortal home, discontented with this life, and as if displaced in this world, he is eager for every thing which snatches him from his sad reality. Anticipating the prodigies of another existence, he sighs incessantly for wonders on this earth, where the first is himself, where the most stupendous is his intellect. " Not one of our mountaineers has seen the bleeding phantom; our only knowledge of it is traditionary. Fathers have long terrified their children with the story, and these, in return, would think it a sort of impiety not to transmit it to their descendants as they received it from their ancestors, whose memory they would fear to outrage, ifthey for a moment doubted the truth of the tale. Thus are errors perpetuated amongus ; errors which in rural life are often useful. Such superstitions keep alive a holy terror of crime ; they speak of another life ; they incline to prayer ; and to guard against the powers of evil, lead human weakness to the altar, there to bend for divine protection. "Howoften has a rustic cross, aconsecrated bough, a mystic rosary, or a miraculous image, brought joy and hope, and faith, to the humble hut ! The poor peasant needs such support and such consolation. The more his religion, his customs, and even his delusions, detach his thoughts from the sad servitude of THE SOLITARY. 29 this world, to raise them to super- human objects, the less heavily will his chains weigh. " " Error often accompanies truth. To stop the course of the one, we must attack the principle ofthe other, as to narrow the brook, we must dry its source. Then must matter replace soul ; abstraction , feeling ; and the subtleties of logic, enchantments and deceptions, till man appear but a thunder- stricken reprobate, cast on the arid sands of a boundless desert. Believe me, Herstall, in the midst of the darkness of existence, the light of philosophy is a beacon that leads to death, and only enlightens a vast chaos. " Anselmo arose, and turned towards Morat Lake ; " to the east," said he, " is the rock where the pretended phantom appears ; alas ! it once witnessed a dreadful spectacle . It was on that fatal rock that the Duke of Burgundy ordered all the monks of this mo nastery to be massacred ; and from the summit ofthat cliff, the heads of the victims of his barbarity rolled to the basin of the torrent. Day of horrors ! Again I seem to see the martyred prior of Underlach , torn from the altars by the satellites of a monster, and dragged to the place of execution. Ohmy daughter ! may the princes ofthe earth never approach these sequestered vales. ". " I have heard it said," observed Herstall, after a long silence , " that since the sacrilegious pillage ofthe abbey, the Bleeding Phantom has appeared on the peak to the mountaineers, and those who saw it, recognized the features of the prior of Underlach : - but a truce to these superstitious tales ; the morning is fine-come, my worthy friend, let us once more 4 30 THE SOLITARY. enjoy the delightful weather of spring ; to this season may be the last . " Elodia descended into the garden of the priory, and leaving the two friends, hastened to the elevated pavilion, from which the evening before she had listened to the mountaineer's song. When near it, she per. ceived with surprise that the sand was marked with the prints of a stranger's steps. Entering the pavilion, she found there the small work basket she had neglected to carry home, but an unknown hand had taken from it a blue riband, which she had worn ´around her waist. The astonished maiden sat down under the rural thatch, and remained for a moment motionless and thoughtful. Suddenly she started, seized with indefinite terrors. Her imagination excited by the extraordinary tales she had lately heard, saw the objects which surrounded her under new and unusual aspects. Through the thick glass of the pavilion window, she thought she saw a black mantle gliding amongst the foliage ; deep sighs escaped from the embowering arbour, and for an instant a formidable eye seemed to gaze upon her ; she fled to the monastery ; and her airy flight was like that of the light cloud impelled by the evening breeze. For several days the orphan never dared to leave her venerable protector, nor to venture to the pavilion. She feared to remain alone in the gardens of the abbey ; the manner in which the blue riband had disappeared perpetually haunted her mind. Elodia, however, overcoming by degrees her weak fears and gloomy reveries, recovered her gayety ; ceased to think ofshadows and phantoms, and even questioned THE SOLITARY. 31 her friends no more on the Solitary ofthe Wild Mountain. Her days past in equanimity and peace ; an early rose, unscorched by the burning breath of noon, Elodia advanced in the path of life as the morning lark cleaves the clear blue sky . One only cause of sorrow disquieted her heart : Herstall, her guide, her support, her best friend, with a constitution undermined by long sufferings , seemed hastening to the tomb. The vesper bell had called to prayer the faithful of the valley. The peasants, returned from their la bour, assembled in the chapel of the priory, the only church in the hamlet. Elodia was under the sacred roof, and her ardent prayers demanded from Heaven the preservation of her adopted father. The shades of evening covered the monastery ; the chant of the priest, the hymns ofthe mountain peasants, and the sweet voices of infancy, all rising in unison to their Heavenly Father, inspired Elodia with a pious and holy melancholy. Suddenly she was aroused from herreligious meditations by a deep sob at no great distance. By the feeble light from the old windows of the side chapel into which she had withdrawn, she perceived within one ofthe arcades of the nave a stran ger, shrouded in the long dress of the Jesuit Missionaries, and prostrate onthe sacred pavement ; he prayed fervently ; and from him came the plaintive accents which had disturbed the orphan. Elodia knew all the inhabitants of Underlach ; Anselmo was the only priest in the place. The stranger must be some pious traveller, visiting the church of the valley. His 32 THE SOLITARY. features were hidden ; his head rested against a column ; and his motionless form seemed inanimate as the marble which sustained it. The evening service finished , deep silence reigned within the late echoing walls . The crowd slowly emerged from the portico , and the angel of prayer took his flight homeward. Elodia threw a last glance upon the stranger under the deserted arcade, then, entering a subterranean passage communicating with a gallery which opened on the gardens of the cloister, she left the church. She had gained the foot of the stair of the passage, and was crossing the gloomy gallery, once the refectory ofthe monastery, when she heard the distant sound of footsteps . In the shadow of the dusky vaults , appeared a majestic figure advancing towards her. The timid Elodia recognized the monk of the chapel. He was alone. There was nothing alarming in his aspect. His tall stature was imposing. The beauty of his person , and his noble carriage , bespoke a man of superior rank. The first idea of theorphan was to fly, yet she remained fixed to the spot. By the glimmering of the twilight she endeavoured to distinguish the features ofthe stranger, who approached her, and drawing from under his mantle a blue riband, silently offered it to the young girl of the abbey. It was the same as that which had been taken from the pavilion ! Embarrassed and confused, Elodia threw a timorous glance on the stranger, whom her imagination already invested with the attributes of a supernatural being. She stood trembling, unable to explain to herself the strange power that arrested her steps, restrained her voice, and deprived her of will. THE SOLITARY. 33 "Maiden of Underlach !" said the unknown, "pardon a man of sorrows, who, too little acquainted with his own heart, believed that a riband worn by innocence, might purify his dark dwelling like a celestial talisman, and restore tranquillity to his soul. " He paused-His voice became deep and solemn as he thus resumed his address : " the mistaken being has discovered his error, and I come to repair the wrong. That which he believed a protecting talisman, farfrom healing his wounded spirit, has irritated it with new poisons, and searched it with avenging fires . There is an eternal justice ! .... Take back this fatal girdle ; the wretchwas unworthy of possessing it. Sometimes, when it meets your eye, angel of the valley ! pity the guilty one who stole it from you. " A ray of light fell on the countenance of the stranger. His fine black eyes were no longer fixed upon her they were raised to Heaven ; and that look was never to be effaced from the heart of the orphan.- Every thing penetrating in sorrow, noble in resignation, expressive in soul, and eloquent in thought, was enclosed in that sublime look. Notwithstanding the obscurity of the gallery, Elodia could not but remark the manly beauty of the extraordinary man. She gazed with a thrilling sensation.... Was this involuntary shudder a presentiment ? The daughter of Saint- Maur at length recovered the courage to speak. " Stranger !" said she, " I believe in the truth ofyour words ; but tell methe name ofthe one who purloined my riband. I forgive him. ” "You forgive him !" replied he quickly--" enough, he shall know it." " He shall know it," repeated 4* 34 THE SOLITARY. Elodia ; " then it was not" .... she would have added you, but her voice died on her lips. The stranger gently drew the orphan to one of the windows of the gallery. With a trembling hand he pointed to the sky. " There," cried he, " if repentance may close the abyss, there, and there only may he say, I love thee !" Startled by the wildness of his accents , Elodia shrunk back appalled. " Noble orphan, " said he, " do not tremble ; he cannot harm you ; blasted by divine anger, he can have no power over you. The glooms of yonder forest are less dark than the clouds which close around his destiny." Suddenly some terrible recollections seemed to cross his brow. " What have I said !" he exclaimed ; " who ! I bid you not fear him ? What! I inspire you with confidence ? No! all nature warns you by my voice against him. Shun him, young flower of the valley ! his breath is pestilence-his presence is deadly !" " Leave me !" said Elodia, endeavouring to fly, and motionless with terror ; "leave me! I cannot understand you !" The inexplicable man replied in a calm and more collected tone, " Dove of the monastery ! I do not detain you ; your path is free. It is not to such as thee, that the voice of the night breeze murmurs accents so dreary that they transfix the soul. Farewell! pray for me! but far from me thethought to bid thee love !" He fled precipitately. As if relieved from an immense weight, the niece of Herstall at once recovered her strength. She rapidly crossed the gallery, the gardens, and the court ofthe abbey ; and ascending the staircase ofher turret, her heart still palpitating with fear, took refuge in her cell. THE SOLITARY. 36 A strong wind arose, and blew with fury among the arches ofthe cloister. The rain fell in torrents, and the old monastery seemed shaken to its centre by the hurricane. The casement ofElodia's window, exposed to the storm, burst open, and the terror- struck daughter of Saint-Maur beheld the eternal expanse, crossed. by opposing clouds, and the heavens threatening the earth. But the disorder of her thoughts equalled that of the elements ; she neither perceived the roaring of the winds let loose, and disputing the range ofthe valley, nor the violent beating of the rain against the broken window, nor the water which flowed even to her feet. The Maid of Underlach thought only on the adventure of the chapel, and the mysterious unknown ; of his astonishing beauty, his wild exclamations , his touching voice, and above all , that one sublime look. Again, she would think she was deceived by some fantastic dream. She would doubt awhile ofthe reality of that evening's events, but the blue riband, returned in the gallery, was still in her hand. How can she doubt that night scene , so vividly impressed on her imagination ? She turned to the window, broken bythe storm-"There, " said the orphan, "if repentance can close the abyss , there, and there only, can he say to me, Ilove thee ! Heavens," cried the trembling maiden, " what destiny does fate prepare for me ? Why is my whole frame thus shaken by a few inexplicable words from a stranger ? Can this be some fearful presage ?-How tenderly he said 'I love thee !'-He was the guilty one for whom he implored my pardon ; it cannot be otherwise ; he could not in favour of another have been so eloquent, so im- 36 THE SOLITARY. pressive. Why then those sudden and ambiguous words ? Why those accents of remorse and despair ? Whythat frightful ecstacy ?-Can it have been an evil spirit, in the midst of the darkness ! -Yet that divine look ..... Virtue, unfortunate and suppliant, could not raise to heaven, one more religious, or more sublime ; -may the Almighty enlighten my weak understanding, and have pity upon innocence !" The winds sunk ; and Elodia, pale and trembling, repaired to Herstall. The old man perceived her agitation with surprise, yet attributed it to her fright at the storm. But the orphan never concealed the slightest thought from her venerable protector. Her soul knew no dissimulation , and she related to him circumstantially her fears when at the pavilion, the disappearance of her riband, and the scene in the gallery. " And is it the first time," said Herstall, "that you have seen the Stranger ?" " My father," replied the young girl, " it is several weeks since I thought that I observed my steps in the gardens ofthe priory were constantly followed by some invisible and mysterious being. Strange noises near me, and unexpected sounds, disturbed me in my usual walks ; and, often filled with secret dread, I feared to move from the monastery. Not attributing my alarms, however, to any thing but the weakness of my imagination, to this day I never dared acknowledge them to you. " "But this extraordinary personage, who can he be ?" rejoined Herstall ; " all the inhabitants ofthe place are known to me, none resemble the strange portrait ;" the old man paused awhile, then suddenly exclaimed, " unless it should be”. " who ?" asked THE SOLITARY. 37 the orphan, anxiously drawing nearer to Herstall ; he answered, "the Solitary of the Wild Mountain !" At that name an involuntary shudder ran over Elodia's limbs ; she sunk back on her chair, and remained for a few moments motionless and mute. The door opened ; Anselmo entered and approached the silent pair. " A great misfortune has just terrified our hamlet, " said the worthy pastor : while the destructive storm crossed the valley, the hut of old Marceline down by the foot of the Mountain of Underlach, was overthrown by an avalanche , and precipitated to the bottom ofthe torrent ; even the fragments have disappeared, carried away by the impetuous waters." " And what has become of Marceline?" cried Elodia. " No one has perished," continued Anselmo; the particulars ofthis frightful catastrophe I cannot yet know, for night still hides them. The tempest has laid waste the country, and poor Marceline has lost her little all ; her old age is menaced by wantand penury." " To-morrow," my dear Anselmo, said Herstall , 66 we will go, and condole with Marceline. " "Oh !" exclaimed the orphan in a low tone, " Oh ! that I but had the fortune ofmy fathers !" Marceline had long dwelt in the Valley of Underlach. In what land was she born ? Where was she brought up ? Where had she past her youth ?-No one could discover. Great misfortunes had assailed her, they said ; but Marceline, to whom the recollection was afflicting, studiously avoided every subject of conversation, which might recall her distresses to her mind. She had doubtless received a good education, for her language was pure, and remarkable for its 38 THE SOLITARY. energetic style . She wore the village costume, her manners were unaffected , and yet nothing could be more select than her expressions, more refined than her sentiments , more enthusiastic than her discourse ; she was an object of astonishment and wonder, and the oracle of the valley. The mountaineers came and consulted her ; they listened to her with admiration ; they religiously followed her advice ; and like a sybil, Marceline was the prophetess of the hamlet of Underlach. By the first peep of day, Elodia left her cell ; tranquillity had fled from her bosom, and sleep could not close her eyes. But the idea of being the bearer of consolation to the unfortunate, drew her from her gloomy reveries. Accompanied by Herstall and Anselmo, she directed her steps to the site of the former residence of Marceline, and already she felt less oppressed. The pure air of the morning, the splendours ofthe rising sun, the sweet odour of the meadow flowers, and the warbling of the forest songsters, -every thing smiled to her young fancy ; and grief soon past from her heart, as the tempest ofthe night from the sky of the valley. Not far from where Marceline formerly dwelt, a dreadful spectacle struck the inhabitants ofthe priory. The storm had caused serious disasters ; broken rocks and uprooted oaks had rolled from the top of the mountain of Underlach, to the bottom of the torrent ; they had filled up its former bed, and the impetuous waters had forced a new channel, ravaging the neighbouring fields . The vegetable soil was covered with upwashed sands ; and the valley was worn into new THE SOLITARY. 39 ravines. Many families, ruined by this unexpected calamity, wept for their lost harvests, among the scattered ruins of their unroofed cabins. On bridges thrown in haste, and with great trouble, across the devastated fields, drained by innumerable rivulets , Herstall , Anselmo and Elodia reached the deserted spot, where once stood the hut of Marceline, beside the torrent. An enormous mass of earth and stone , detached from the side of the mountain, had carried away the rustic building ; its very foundations were gone in their stead was a vast gulf, at the bottom ofwhich boiled a sulphureous wave, and resounded hollow murmurs. It seemed as if the voice of the angel of destruction ascended from the depths of the abyss. By the side ofthe new stream, the Maid of Underlach perceived Marceline, and ran to meet her ; sympathizing with the sorrow the sad sights around might well cause, her eyes swimming in tears , she began to speak to her of her misfortunes. " My lovely child," said Marceline, interrupting her, “ that misfortune is already more than repaired. The thunderbolt struck the vale , but on the mountain shines the restoring planet ! See !" said she, opening a bag filled with pieces of gold, " here is enough to build three huts like the one I have lost. " " Oh! my good mother !" cried Elodia, transported with joy, "Heaven is just, and your last days will be happy ; but what beneficent hand has so promptly succoured you ?" " Noble maiden of the monastery !" said Marceline , with enthusiasm, "do you ask me again, whose is the assisting hand stretched out to protect the un- 40 THE SOLITARY. fortunate of our cantons ? Then turn , and see yonder high mountain belted with thick forests. Thence the genius of benevolence manifests himself to man ; thence descends the Solitary !" " And you saw him this morning ?" said the orphan with vivacity.- " This morning ! " exclaimed Marceline ; " he was not so long as that in coming to my relief. I should have wept the whole night ; he does not delay an hour, when he can hasten at once. Last night, after the fall of the avalanche , and the destruction of my cabin, while left on the wasted shore, I filled the air with my cries, the guardian spirit appeared in the midst of the tempest. I think I see him still ... there, on the edge ofthe stream, by those dark larch- trees. His mien was calm, and his forehead undaunted ; advancing into the midst ofthe turmoil , he seemed as a ray of hope, through the night of evil prospects." " Incomprehensible man ! " said Herstall. "He was clothed in black, " continued Marceline ; dress enveloped him, but the beauty of his form, and the proportions of his majestic size , showed perfectly through the folds of his missionary gown. " " Of his missionary gown ! " cried Elodia, as she caught the arm of Herstall, " ah ! you said right !" • " his long Agitated, and yet pleased , she questioned Marceline about her benefactor ; his dress, his mien , his voice, his look. Marceline detailed them all ; and the daugh ter of Saint- Maur, could no longer doubt that the Unknown ofthe Chapel, was the Solitary ofthe Wild Mountain. After having carried assistance and consolation to those who had suffered the most severely, Elodia and THE SOLITARY. 41 the old men retook the way to the abbey. She walked before them, pensive and silent. She reconsidered the enthusiastic words of old Marceline. " No" . thought she, " the genius of benevolence, the star of the Mountain, the guardian spirit,-the Solitary cannot be an evil power. His mysterious manner of living is thought reproachable-but is not even Providence , all mystery ? He is accused of avoiding the society of man-but the holiest mortals once chose for their residence, the deserts of Thebaïs. A pious and contemplative mind loves mystery and solitude. " After her visit to the hut of Marceline , Elodia no longer dreaded to think upon the events of the gallery. The apprehension of being followed in her walks was entirely dissipated , and when she heard any slight noise near her, in the gardens ofthe cloister, her agitation was no longer that of fear. Without accounting to herself, for her indefinite wishes, the orphan would traverse the park with the secret hope ofbeing observed ; she sought on the sands for prints of strange footsteps ; and her basket, one evening, was left in the pavilion, almost involuntarily. Vain were all her expectations. No adventure disurbed her solitude ; no apparition struck her eyes ; no mysterious being wandered around her in the fullfoliaged groves. Uneasy and distressed, the young orphan would return to her cell with sighs ; and communing with herself, and regretting her past fears, she could neither understand her new sentiments, nor explain her new ideas. One thought struck her mind forcibly. He, whom she could never forget, had shown himself in a reliVOL. I. 5 42 THE SOLITARY. gious dress. Had he devoted his life to the Lord ? Was he bound to the altar by sacred vows ? Harassed by these reflections , without seeking to know their cause, she repaired to the cottage near the monastery, where Marceline made a temporary residence. Marceline loved to speak of the Solitary ; she was acquainted with all the benevolent actions by which he had made himself known ; she was ever intent on raising the mystic veil which surrounded him ; these were sufficient attractions for Elodia. " Good Marceline," said she, after having offered her some little presents, and received her thanks, " will your new cottage be soon finished ? they have been working on it a long while !" " Thanks to God and the Solitary, " replied the sybil of the hamlet, " before autumn, I shall be in my new dwelling." " Is it building in the meadow ?" said Elodia. 66 Heaven," exclaimed Marceline , 66 preserve me from that spot ! No! it is to be on a height, from which I can continually turn my gaze to the elect of the Wild Mountain. He and the Lord shall receive, till my last hour, the first thoughts, the first glances, and the first prayers of each day of my life." " The Solitary is, doubtless , a holy priest," said the young girl, with a faultering voice. "No," answered Marceline ; and the cheeks of the orphan were suffused with a deep red. “ Are you certain ofwhat you say ?" asked Elodia, with sparkling eyes. " I dare affirm it, " said Marceline. " If he were devoted to the service of the altar, he would never lay aside the dress appropriate to his vows ; yet in a religious dress he has never but once appeared. My ●pinion may seem strange to you, but I cannot think I THE SOLITARY. 43 am deceived. I have closely noticed the Solitary. He is born for the purple, rather than the haircloth ; and the casque of the hero would better suit his august brow, than the cowl of the missionary." " The purple !" faintly exclaimed Elodia. " Gold," continued Marceline , " is no more wanted by his generous hands , than courage by his mighty heart. I know but two beings above human nature by their sentiments and by their beauty the Eagle of the Wild Mountain, and the Dove of the Monastery. " The confused and troubled maiden arose : "Good Marceline," said she, " I must leave you, it is nearly night ; some other time I will return. " 44 THE SOLITARY. CHAPTER III. The days of Elodia were peaceful ; her accustomed occupations allowed no languor to steal into her soul. Save the hurricane, no distressing event afflicted the valley, and the Solitary seemed to have abandoned the country. There is a happy period oflife, when the arrows of affliction glance from the breast, and never penetrate. They resemble the halcyons, which, skimming rapidly in the black and stormy night, spread their wings of snowy white over the agitated billows. Grief may overcast the spring of life , but its tears and glooms are the dews and clouds of morning. The orphan of the abbey recovered her vivacity ; the stranger of the gallery began to fade from her memory, and tranquillity was re- established in her bosom. The new dwelling of Marceline was nearly finished. Elodia often visited her, but she always avoided with care the most interesting subject of conversation, the beneficence of the Solitary. Spring, with creating breath, restored all Nature's loveliness. Every trace of the destructive storm was gone ; and the odorous valley of Underlach displayed to the traveller's eye her rural pomp and rustic treasures . Like the small singing bird, inspired by the serenity ofthe season, and whose melodious notes are only heard in blooming bowers and under azure skies, THE SOLITARY. 45 the maiden of the monastery, awakened by the dawn, took her lute , and repaired to the verdant grove. The sky was clear and cloudless, the air balmy from the scented flowers ; no sound disturbed the silence ofthe quiet morning, except the last notes ofthe nightingale , and the distant murmur of the cascade. Elodia paused on the romantic borders of the torrent of Underlach, and the light tones of her lute mingled with the purling of the water over its pebbly bed. Above her, was a picturesque arch, formed by a rude bridge thrown upon two rocks across the fall, and crowned with a clump of pines. Charmed with the delightful site she had chosen, the young girl began her song. Oh Spring! again your smile appears, Again you charm my raptured eyes ! Oh rosy dawn ! your genial airs , To nature call ..... Awake, arise ! Half-opened portal of the skies, Whose beams celestial, wander thence, Sweet Hope !-oh gild with winning guise, The happy spring of innocence. And Thou! the lord ofworlds and time ! Ourfuture judge, our present stay ; Man, ofthy works the most sublime, Shall he a soul debased display ? Thou canst the march of years delay, Great Power ! thy aid to mine dispense ; And though my spring may fleet away, Oh still detain its innocence ! Ye stormy woes ! ye hours of gloom ! That sometimes cross our mortal road, 5* 46 THE SOLITARY. Ye come where pleasures brightly bloom , As trials heavenin love bestowed. Ye whelm us as with rolling flood ; Firm be our Faith ! -Unshaken thence, Glorious their meed, who, all withstood! And still preserved, their innocence ! The orphan finished her song, negligently leaning against the trunk of an old oak by the edge of the stream. The breeze wafted the last notes through the distant forest, like the plaintive sighs ofthe harp of Malvina in the caves of Morven. Elodia suspended her lute on the arch ofthe bridge, and sinking into gentle musing, she listened to the faint echoes, still prolonging the dying strain. The Sun just tipped with golden rays the summits ofthe mountains, when suddenly she saw an unusual gleaming of light among the cliffs of Underlach, and along a path which led to the hamlet. Casques, bucklers, and lances , were glittering in the sunbeams. Numerous warriors were descending the mountain, clothed in armour of polished steel. The daughter of Saint- Maur gazed, for a moment, on a scene so entirely new to her. The neighing of the coursers, the gold of their harness , the dazzling helmets of the soldiers , the white crests ofthe knights , their banners, their shields , their devices, their scarfs, and their armorial ornaments, charmed and delighted her curious eye. But the troops had nearly reached the foot of the mountain, and were turning towards the bridge. This evolution recalled the orphan from her state of surprise and amaze ; she thrilled with fear, and hastily fled to the abbey, leaving her lute on the rustic arch. THE SOLITARY. 47 Astonished at the appearance of a troop of warriors among the peaceful dales of Underlach, Herstall knew not what to conjecture on so unexpected an event, when a confused noise of arms and horses was heard in the court of the monastery. Egbert De Norendall, the chief of the knights , presented himself before Herstall, and immediately explained the cause. After the defeat and death of Charles the Bold, the conquering Duke of Lorraine had returned to his capital , and since that period governed his states in peace. But Louis XI. reigned ; and this prince never could endure the tranquillity of his neighbours. After having, at first, engaged the Duke of Burgundy to attempt the conquest of Lorraine, and promised, by the treaty of Soleure, to place no impediment in the way, and then declaring that he would not suffer the usurpation of Charles ; and after having supported, or appeared to support the right of René, whom he proclaimed as the only legitimate sovereign ofLorraine, he all at once pretended that Lorraine should have been inherited by him through the female line , and marched his armies to Nancy. He had already taken possession of Barrois ; * René demanded instant succour from the Emperor of Germany, and raised troops on all sides to defend his territories. The Swiss Cantons felt strongly interested for this prince, who was beloved by his people . Count Egbert de Norendall was sent by the Duke of Lorraine to solicit powerful reinforcements from the Helvetian Republic. This noble chief, the friend of René, had partly succeeded

• Aprovince belonging to the Duke ofLorraine.

1 48 THE SOLITARY. in his important mission, and, returning to Nancy, passed with a large escort through the tranquil valley of Underlach. Herstall was once well acquainted with the family ofCount Egbert, and the old man gladly welcomed the noble knight. Egbert's youth had been spent in the court of Charles the Bold ; a devoted friend to that prince, he had accompanied him in all his warlike expeditions. The day the hero of Burgundy fell , Egbert was taken prisoner under the walls of Nancy, The superior valour ofthe Count De Norendall, having often been praised before the Duke René, he endeavoured to attach to his person so illustrious a warrior. Egbert was informed of the dreadful end of the prince, whom, notwithstanding his errors, he had so much loved, and he gave up his wounded heart to the bitterness of regret. The Duke of Lorraine sought him out, and shed tears with himto the memory of the Duke of Burgundy ; the inconsolable Egbert was grateful to René, and to gratitude succeeded affection ; the virtues ofthe Duke of Lorraine again opened the heart of Egbert to the sentiment of friendship. Not wishing to return to Burgundy, where Charles no longer reigned, and where only painful recollections awaited him, he fixed his residence at the court of Nancy. He was soon distinguished by the highest favour ofhis prince, and became one of the chiefs of the army ofLorraine. Egbert was still in the prime of life , and possessed every soldier-like qualification. Without being high in stature, or perfectly well proportioned in form, the Count De Norendall, amongthe most brilliant knights, THE SOLITARY. 49 though deprived of the pomp of rank, would have attracted the gaze of the multitude. There was a superiority in his aspect which commanded respect. His eye, full of fire and expression , penetrated the most secret thoughts. He was called taciturn ; but the heart of him who is reserved and silent, is often the most profuse in sentiments. He captivated popular admiration, forced the most indifferent and cold to praise him, and seemed to wind his enemies in a magic chain, which constrained them to silence. Calm and serious as he appeared, his soul was ardent and impassioned. He carried his friendship even to fanaticism ; had he known love, it might have transported him to ecstasy. The burning impetuosity of his feelings rarely altered his impassive features. His heart was often piously communing with heaven, at moments when the most scrutinizing observer would have believed it filled with earthly desires ; and, as his exalted mind cherished the most sublime thoughts, so the most heroic sacrifices might be obtained from his magnanimous soul. It was long since Herstall had mingled in an assembly of warriors. The knights of Egbert surrounded him ; he gazed upon them with sighs. Once, like them, he shone in the camp-once, like them, he followed the illusions of glory-once, like them, he was admired.... Now, who asks if he yet lives ? Wishing to give the most hospitable entertainment to the defenders of Lorraine, Herstall had the evening banquet prepared in the great gallery, which was illuminated with numerous torches. The vast precincts were filled with the noble companions of Egbert. 50 THE SOLITARY. Herstall advanced among them. The lovely Elodia, a new Antigone, supported his trembling steps. A murmur of admiration circulated through the hall, as the young beauty raised her veil. Every eye was fixed upon her. Armida, in the camp of the Crusaders, was not more beautiful. The silent Elodia was seated at the banquet, beside the Count De Norendall. For the first time , the hitherto insensible Egbert gazed upon a beautiful girl without endeavouring to attract her attention. The knights attentively observed their chief, but could not divine what were his sentiments. The charms of the orphan had appeared to surprise him, but now no emotion was betrayed by his countenance. He was silent , and seemed to reflect. One would almost have said that he was secretly interrogating his heart, and asking ifthe moment to love were yet arrived. Elodia hazarded at length a timid glance on the brilliant assembly. The scene was novel : the sight of youthful and valorous knights ; their crests waving ; their armour sparkling by the light of a hundred torches, and the admiration she inspired in heroes, who, compared with the mountaineers , seem. ed demi-gods , dazzled her eyes, confused her thoughts , and agitated her bosom.-" So young and so beautiful," saidthe Count De Norendall, "and are you alone in the monastery ?" The manly tones of the warrior's voice thrilled through the orphan ; her eyes met those of Egbert, and she blushed.-" In this dwelling," answered she, "I am not alone ; I am the adopted child of Herstall, and with him I live happily." " And is not so peaceful a life tedious ?"-" Tedious ! how should it be so ? all my moments are occupied ; and I THE SOLITARY. 51 neither desire nor expect pleasures, nor regret their absence." " Then you know nothing of the world !" exclaimed Egbert. " Should I be happier by knowing it ?" artlessly answered the orphan. The repast being ended, the Count De Norendall arose, and taking the trembling hand of the niece of Herstall, conducted her to the saloon of the abbey. They had crossed the gallery and reached the passage which on one side led to the chapel, and on the other to the apartments ofthe priory, when the maiden recoiled and uttered a faint scream. She thought she perceived a figure glide by and vanish in the deep shade. It was on that spot that she first saw the Solitary! Can it have again been he ? ....Not knowing what could have caused her terror, Egbert questioned Elodia ; she attributed her fright to the weakness of her nerves, and her fears of darkness and subterranean places. - " Feeble vine ! " said Egbert, in a low tone, " wouldst thou refuse the support of the cedar ?" His voice as he spoke was full of tenderness , and his hand pressed gently the hand of the orphan. Elodia quickened her pace ; she spoke not a word in return ; what could she have answered ! The daughter of Saint-Maur retired to her cell, and much agitated, dared scarcely to think on the past. It was the first time she had been in the centre of a gallant circle, and an object of homage to a brilliant crowd . She had seen herself admired by the noblest knights ofLorraine, and bythe friend ofRené, a renowned hero, and doubtless the desire of the greatest beauties ofthe court of Nancy. The Count De Norendall 52 THE SOLITARY. had been marked in his attentions to her. His eyes, habitually severe , had gazed upon her with tenderness, and his voice in speaking to her was unusually tremulous. " Has she then pleased him! Can she already A thousand confused ideas wan- be loved !" dered through her mind. She thought on the sumptuous court ofLorraine , crowded with the knights of the powerful René, and the bold companions of the valiant Egbert ; on the honours which must environ those whom Providence should bestow on them for partners ; on the charms and delights which must attend them, and the splendour of the palaces inhabited by the lords of the land . She thought howgreat must be the triumph of her who should sway the sceptre of love over the sons of glory, prostrate at the feet of beauty. The heart of the orphan beat quicker with a feeling of pride . Egbert, the illustrious Egbert, had not yet fallen at her feet ; but to- morrow, perhaps !. Elodia opened the latticed window, and begged forgiveness ofHeaven for her erring thoughts. The stars twinkled in the sky ; the planet of night silently traversed the celestial arch, and shed over nature a silvery tone of pearly light. The maiden turned her eyes towards the Wild Mountain, and the Solitary filled her mind The Count De Norendall, his knights, and the court of Lorraine, were all in an instant forgotten. "Ah!" cried Elodia, " no glittering helmet adorns his brow ; no towering crest floats proudly over his head ; no gold and gems emboss his dress ; no scarf of glory or love encircles his waist ; and yet in that THE SOLITARY. 53 7 very gallery where the companions of Egbert were assembled, how dignified, he appeared in his coarse missionary gown ! How divine the fire of his eyes ! How majestic his port ! How he would have outshone the knights of Lorraine, had he suddenly appeared among them clothed as a warrior ! Can it have been he who passed before me in the shadow of the chapel, or can my imagination have deceived me ? Incomprehensible being ! diffusing benefactions, and apparently unhappy thyself, thou seemest an angel of virtues, and thou speakest to me of remorse ! But why do I seek to discover what thou thinkest and what thou art-I , who cannot comprehend the springs of my own actions !" The maid of Underlach listened to the roar of the torrent ; its melancholy murmurs were in harmony with the sensations of her soul. She then recollected that her lute was hanging on the arch ofthe bridge ; she closed the casement, and soon found the sleep of innocence on her peaceful couch. 樱 The inhabitants ofthe monastery were still sunk in repose, although the sun shone above the horizon, when the daughter of Saint-Maur, accompanied by Mother Ursula, repaired to the banks of the stream to recover her lute. The weather was fair, and zephyrs were sporting among the shrubs of the valley. Elodia was nearly at the bridge, when she suddenly stopped.... Concealing herself behind the thick foliage of a hower, the orphan gazed without daring to move. -By the side of the brook, on the same spot where Elodia, the day before, had hailed the return of spring, was a mountaineer ; he held the VOL. I. .... 6 54 THE SOLITARY. forgotten lute, and drew from it the most melodious sounds. He was leaning against a pine ; his costume was that of the mountain hunters. At his feet was his bow, withthe cord unloosed, and a kid pierced through and through by a bloody dart. Like the valiant Scyt thians, the terrific lords of war, who rushed from the caves of the north on the nations of the south , the mountaineer, a new Apollo, seemed the god of the forest. His majestic height, as he stood on the banks, was like that of a lofty cedar of Lebanon. His nervy limbs and athletic strength, bespoke an Alcides, accustomed to victory. His form appeared like one which, if agitated by rage , might have renewed the gigantic fury of an Orlando ; his features now were calm ; his voice mingled with the sweet tones ofthe instrument, and he stood, an Orpheus, in the midst of that wild scenery. The same tune that Elodia had sung, was repeated by the mountaineer, and almost the same words and the same expressions ; Elodia listened in breathless wonder. Oh Spring! thy charms may earth infold ; I view thee not with raptured eyes ; Oh dawn! my days are dark and cold, For purer bosoms thou must rise. Half opened portal ofthe skies, Whose beams, celestial , wander thence,- Hope! Vain to me, thy smiling guise ! Thou canst not give me innocence. And I have virtue's aid implored, To guide me through this mortal road ; And I have seen her light adored , Upon my early life bestowed.j THE SOLITARY. 55 Against each trial's forceful flood, Who more than I desired defence! Alas ! the man of sorrows stood, But could not save his innocence. The mountaineer's voice died away among those desert rocks, like a solemn hymn ofsome repenting spirit in an abode of expiation. A deadly chillness froze the limbs of Elodia ; it seemed to her that a leaden weight was on her heart, and a fatal band painfully compressing her forehead. The mountain hunter raised his eyes to Heaven, and the maiden of the abbey recognized the look ... that sublime look, engraved upon her heart, and never to be effaced. Bythe twilight of the gallery, she had scarcely seen the manly features of the Unknown of the Chapel ; by the first light of the dawn she gazed upon them with admiration, for never was there a being upon earth more perfectly beautiful . But why was the noble brow of the Solitary shrouded with the glooms of sorrow and despair ? Why those bitter recollections of the past ? Why those mournful accents of remorse ? Gentle maiden of the vale ! lovely as the first of thy sex, and pure as the first prayer of infancy, haste away ! Ah ! the rose withers, when the north wind blows upon it. The handsome mountain hunter again suspended the lute . He threw the kid carelessly across his shoulders, and fixed it under his quiver like a Nimrod ; he lifted his bow, and, sighing deeply, left the stream . He crossed the bridge with hasty steps , climbed the mountain path, and disappeared amongthe dark larchs. He was out of sight before Elodia recovert 56 THE SOLITARY. ed the power of motion ; she flew to the rustic arch and seized her lute. Ursula, confounded and astonished, and not knowing what to think ofthe unknown songster, hazarded some questions, but the orphan neither heard nor answered her . She had taken the road to the priory, when the hut of Marceline struck her eyes ; she turned towards it involuntarily ; there, at least, she might speak of the Solitary. The enthusiastic Marceline perceived the niece of Herstall, and ran to meet her. " Come! Dove of the Monastery !" said she, " come ! what have I not to tell you ! the man of wonders watches over your destiny." " Over my destiny !" repeated the blushing girl.- " I have just returned from the abbey ; I was seeking you ; " said Marceline solemnly, as she drew her aside . "Listen! yesterday evening, on this very spot, he appeared to me ; here I saw the Solitary. To-morrow, said he to me, go to the maiden of Underlach-tell her these words : The Duke of Lorraine has promised his sister to the Count De Norendall ; thelove of Egbert for another than his betrothed, may open here an abyss of calamities. "Oh heavens !" cried Elodia, " did he speak to you thus!" "Yes," said Marceline, "and charged me to tell you. " " What !" continued the orphan, " the Lorraine troops have but just arrived at the monastery, and already the Solitary knows their chief, his name, his engagements, his destiny, and even the secret of his love !" " In giving me this command," added Marceline , "his accent was harsh in expression ; his brow stern and threatening. The moon shone on his pallid countenance, and had it not been for the remarkable beauty THE SOLITARY. 57 of his features, I should have hesitated to think it he ; his voice, which he endeavoured to moderate, was like the first breath of a tempest, and his glance the first flash of a consuming fire !" Marceline, after this affrighting picture, reconducted Elodia to the monastery. "Noble maiden of Underlach," said she, " do not despise the advice ofthe genius of the mountain ; to him, nothing seems unknown, and every thing possible ; fly Egbert De Norendall, and trust to the Solitary." 6* 58 THE SOLITARY. CHAPTER IV. DURING three days, the Count De Norendall and his companions had sojourned at the abbey. Egbert struggled in vain against the love with which Elodia had inspired him. The burning ardour of his sentiments increased every instant ; and the secret of his heart was no longer unknown to any of his warri ors. Since the arrival ofthe Lorraine knights , the star of day had four times enlightened nature, when the cavaliers , resuming their armour, remounted their coursers, and leaving the monastery, took the road to Nancy. Three of the troop were left behind, and the Count De Norendall was one ofthe number ; he waited, he said, for the return of a trusty envoy, who was to bring him at Underlach an important answer from the chief of a Swiss Canton. Egbert had confided a part of his political secrets to the Baron D'Hers- tall ; the old man took a lively interest in the affairs of the Duke ofLorraine, and for several days to come, the friend of René was to dwell in the priory. The Maid of Underlach descended from her turret, at the hour when the fond companion ofthe labouring man prepares the first repast of her young family. She was wandering among the blooming bowers of the old convent, when, at the turn of an alley, she met the Count De Norendall. "Lovely orphan," said Egbert, " this morning I was to have left this place, THE SOLITARY. 59 and I am here still . What is the sweet magic which detains me ? What is the unknown power which fetters me ? . . . . . Alas ! until now I have doubted this magic, and I have braved this power." " Knight," replied the young girl , " I must return to the abbey." As she was going, Egbert stopped her : " One word more," cried he, " one word, and you shall be free. If, falling at your feet, the friend of the Duke of Lorraine should offer you at this moment, not the splendour of his fortune and rank, for they are things which cannot dazzle you, but the homage of a faithful heart, which, for the first time, loves sincerely, what would you answer ?" " That he is no longer the master of his destiny," said Elodia ; " that his word is given, and that the august sister of René should alone be the wife of Count Egbert De Norendall." Egbert remained mute with astonishment, at words so unexpected. In vain he endeavoured to hide his perturbation ; the expression of his eyes, the slight quivering of his lips, and the paleness of his forehead, betrayed his agitation. " What do I hear !" said he at length ; a vague project, only known to some of the confidential intimates of René ; a secret of which the Court of Nancy has no knowledge ; a hidden thought ofthe sovereign has been revealed to you in these distant solitudes !" 66 Elodia spoke not a word ; slowly she walked beside the Count De Norendall. "The Duke of Lorraine, it is true, " continued Egbert, " has deigned to propose his sister to me ; but I am not bound by any sacred engagement ; without failing in my honour, I can still refuse the projected marriage. What do 1 60 THE SOLITARY. say ! my duty even now commands me to do So ; the Princess of Lorraine I can never render happy. There is but one being upon earth who may be the companion of Egbert. Doubtless I shall lose the friendship of René ; doubtless I shall draw his anger upon me ; but love has entirely changed my soul : glory, fortune, dignities, are now nothing in my esti mation. Elodia ! celestial maid ! one smile ! ... and I rise superior to the world ! --one smile, and Underlach will become Elysium." His respiration was short, and his ardent expressions succeeded one another tumultuously. The novelty of his language astonished the orphan ; she quickened her steps , and was silent. " You do not answer me," repeated Egbert, passionately. " Elodia ! oh, let me renounce you all the pomps of life. An unheeded huntsman onthe mountain, asimple fisherman in the valley , let me have upon earth but one cabin , but one bark ; and let Elodia be under that cabin- let Elodia be with me in that bark ! Storms of existence, burst over powerful heads !—here, in peace, I shall brave your thunder. Love ! soften for me the heart of the orphan ! here I shall find supreme felicity. " for The enthusiasm of his sentiments sparkled in his eyes ; the Maid of Underlach was moved, was softened ; but Egbert was not loved. "Count De Norendall," said she at length, " pardon my silence. The speeches I have just heard are strangers to my ears, and I know not what to answer. Why speak to me of marriage ! The Baron D'Herstall decides my fate . Why speak to me of love ! I must not hear such language. " They had now arri- THE SOLITARY. 61 ved at the monastery, and the daughter of Saint-Maur parted from Egbert. Several days passed ; the orphan constantly avoidded the Count De Norendall : she appeared but rarely in the saloon of the abbey, and never descended to the garden. The Baron D'Herstall sent for his niece ; he was alone, Egbert having just left him. The old man welcomed the orphan with his usual tenderness , and with a solemn voice, thus addressed her : 66 I Listen, dear Elodia, and do not interrupt me. In the happy days of my early life , I dared to ask of Heaven a long career : alas ! I was far from thinking that I solicited a long agony. Oh! Irena ! my adored child ! my real life finished with thine : thy father, a shadow, almost inanimate, and mentally united to thee, has only survived thee to the eyes of men. feel that the term ofmy sorrowing years is nearly accomplished ; and I shall soon rejoin her, I hope, whom a meteor of fatality swept from the earth in his devouring course. Oh my niece ! thou wouldst have succeeded in calming my bitter regrets, if my grief had been susceptible of consolation : but, like the desperate lioness , who, pursued by the savage hunter, has witnessed the slaughter of her young, I have seen the ferocious man snatch from me the cherished being, the only charm of my existence ; and on the ashes of Irena, whoever would have attempted to soothe my sorrow, would have seemed to insult my misfortune. Elodia ! thou frail reed on the deserted shore- I have trembled for thee, lest, when I am gone, the tempest should overthrow thy feeble stem also. But now a powerful protector offers to replace the aged man, 62 THE SOLITARY. tottering on the verge ofthe grave. Accept the noble support which Heaven, it appears, has sent to thee ; so shall no trouble disturb the hopes, the joys, and the peace ofmy dying bed. " The old man paused for a moment. Notwithstanding the vain efforts of the orphan, her tears escaped from under her long eye-lashes. "The Count De Norendall," resumed Herstall, "has asked me for thy hand this very morning. His fortune, his rank, his reputation , his youth, and his valour, all shine with pure and spotless splendour ; what answer should I give ? Thou hast been alone in this isolated cloister-thou hast known none but our wild mountaineers-thy heart cannot have been touched, and Count Egbert is worthy of being loved. Thy consent to the desired marriage will fulfil all my wishes. -But far from me be the thought to constrain thy sentiments ! Open thy heart to me-Elodia is entirely her own mistress. " The last words, pronounced with the most affectionate accent, revived the courage of the timid maiden. "My father," said she, "the valiant Egbert is doubtless intended for a high destiny, and I am not worthy of being his companion . Educated in the midst ofmountains , I should be out of my sphere in the centre of a court ; the flowers of the valley perish, when transplanted to other climes. Should I desire a royal dwelling, when my father was assassinated in a palace ! Oh ! remember the last prayer of the unfortunate widow of Saint- Maur. Recollect that with her last breath, my mother addressed you in these words : let Elodia, ifpossible, never leave these peace- THE SOLITARY. 63 • ful vales ; let her never know the vanities of life, and how much they cost their possessors." " Well!" cried Herstall, "the Count De Norendall is ready to renounce for thee the court of Lorraine, to throw aside his rank, to fly from the honours which surround him, and to consecrate his life to thee, in these rural solitudes. So many sacrifices prove so much love, that thou canst not remain insensible. " " My father," said the orphan, interrupting him, "do the first transports oflove last forever ? are unreasonable resolutions immutable ? can trust be based upon such soaring exaggeration ? Egbert to - day promises to sacrifice every thing ; who can insure me that fo -morrow he will not regret his promises ?" " Then Elodia persists in her refusal .... is that her last answer ?" "You commanded me, " said Elodia, " to speak to you unreservedly. Rather than dwell in courts, and disobey the last will of my mother, I would consecrate my life to religious duties. I am terrified at the passionate character of Egbert : I fear to confide my fate to one so ardent and impetuous ; and, while free in her choice, the daughter of SaintMaur will never be the wife ofthe Count De Norendall." Her voice never faltered as she spoke , and Herstall was surprised at her firmness : she appeared immoveable in her determination. The old man blamed her refusal ; but it recalled to his memory the last farewell of a dearly loved sister. He had promised never to restrain the will of Elodia, and his promises he held sacred. Who can paint the grief of Egbert !-The orphan had contemned his offers the orphan had 64 THE SOLITARY. slighted his love, and rejected his vows. He heard from the lips of Herstall the decree which irreVocably decided his fate ; and his calm, mute aspect, betrayed nothing of the fury and despair which raged within. " Worthy old man," said he , as behe grasped the hand of the Baron, " this very evening I shall leave your hospitable land ; would to Heaven my steps had never pressed it !" He spoke and left him. That evening his secret envoy returned with the answer for which he was waiting ; and the order for departure was given. A thousand confused and sinister projects struggled in his bosom. His natural generosity of feeling combatted in vain against the aroused agitation ofhis spirits . He felt that his heart, once devoted to virtue, was now ready to succumb to the powers of evil. Vainly he implored the help of Heaven against the violence of his passions. Half frantic , he sought Elodia-he cared not what he should say he knew not what he should do-he understood not what he intended ; —he only felt that he must have an interview. He met her at last-“ I go,” said he ; " you desire it, you command it ; forever must I fly from you and happiness. Oh ! tell me— at least tell me that you pity me !" Elodia looked at him, and hesitated for a moment ; she was affected at bis sorrow ; and yet her only answer was, " Farewell, noble knight. " Mounted on his impatient courser, the Count De Norendall, without hope or consolation, departed from the abbey. The two warriors who accompanied him remarked with terror the laconic style of his answers, the terrible fire of his eyes, and the impetuosity of his course. Long after the sun had sunk in the west, he THE SOLITARY. 65 still spurred his charger, unconscious of the immense distance he had passed, till the exhausted animal at length fell under him. In what place is he ?-he knows not. Whither would he go ?-what matters it ? What are his intentions ?-time alone shall reveal them. The martial note ofthe trumpet, the neighing of the war horse, the clang of arms , and loud voices of the knights, no longer resounded through the vaulted halls of the monastery. Elodia reproached herself in secret, not for her refusal to the proposals of Egbert, but for her answers, overwhelming by their severity, and her cold farewell. As he hastily left the orphan, the Count De Norendall had darted upon her a menacing look. An indefinite presentiment alarmed the young maiden : "Perhaps, " thought she, " some storm at this moment gathers over my head. But Egbert, the magnanimous hero, would he dare to sully his name by a guilty deed ?" Alas ! the most heroic heart, like the loveliest summer, must have its clear and its tempestuous days. Letthe cold insensible man, born to no virtues, glory in having lived without vices ; but shall he inspire admiration ! Will we not rather turn to those beings of a superior nature, whose ardent aspirations have not, it is true, always sustained them upon celestial heights , but who, in falling, have at least not lost the wing, and, ready to renew their soaring flight to sublimer regions, have never grovelled in the vulgar round of negative goodness and virtue ! Without the idea of the Solitary , and his last appearance on the arch of the torrent, and perhaps without the last discourse of Marceline, Elodia would VOL. I. 7 66 THE SOLITARY, have hesitated in her answer to the Baron D'Herstall . But her heart was completely subdued by that new proof ofthe lively interest she had excited in the wonderful inhabitant of the Wild Mountain. " The Solitary,"thought she, "penetrates the most secret de-. signs of the prince of Lorraine ; the lords ofthe earth. and their destiny are known to him. Who then is this supernatural being, who from the depth of his solitude unveils even the vague thoughts of courts ? Who is this mysterious star of the mountain, whose protecting rays shine upon me in the valley, with guardian light ? It must be some tutelary genius !" Her unsuspecting heart only listened to the praises of gratitude, whose voice can whisper no gloomy distrust, no fears ofthe spirits of darkness. Proud of being loved by a man who appeared to her superior to all other men, the orphan felt no more for Egbert, who had dazzled her for a time, than the passing interest inspired in the traveller by a pleasing site which he admires only as he gazes, and from which he hastens without a second thought. Herstall prepared for death, like one who is gertain of its approach. The monastery, with the grounds belonging to it , and all that he possessed, he left to Elodia ; but what must become of that young orphan, alone in the priory without assistance and without a guide ? The old man had recourse to a distant relation of his, who had resided for a long time at the court of Lorraine, and who now possessed several chateaux in Switzerland. To propose an act of benevolence to the Countess Imberg, was to fulfil the wish of her heart. Herstall, well assured that THE SOLITARY. 67 notwithstanding her age and infirmities she would instantly repair to the protection of innocence , addressed to her the warmest entreaties in favour of his niece, and begged her, after his death, to be a mother to the orphan. The spring passed ; and the burning heats of summer succeeded the gentle breezes of the season of flowers. The Solitary descended no more from the mountain, and seemed to have forgotten the valley. The maid of Underlach became every day more sad and pensive ; no event disturbed the monotony of her existence ; this calm, this repose, rendered her uneasy and agitated. Smiles no longer embellished her rosy lips ; she walked more slowly and sedately ; she prayed oftener at the chapel ; the glowing sunrise no longer found her enthusiastic and joyful ; the strings of her lute were untuned ; her flowers languished forgotten ;--whence came such changes ? From a single thought. Formerly, every thing in the valley she thought smiling and animated ; Underlach now appeared gloomy and barren. Gazing from her favourite pavilion on the snow with which the summits of the Alps are blanched notwithstanding the power of the sun, the orphan of the abbey sighed : Why cannot her heart be as cold as those eternal masses which brave the sultry summer. Oh, how many tempests have traversed those heights without changing their aspect ! Youngflower of Helvetia, hardly has a breath ofthe storm passed lightly beside thee, and already thou art no longer the same! A slight fall ofrain, among the cliffs of Underlach, 68 THE SOLITARY. gave them at the moment a fanciful appearance ; white clouds, in many a grotesque form, sailed like transparent waves along the bare peaks. The rays of the sun suddenly breaking through these misty vapours here and there enlightened the horizon ; and the mountain veil , torn , as if by enchantment, showed through the large rents, airy porticoes, groves of pine, and temples of rocks, high above the clouds and the valley. * But these magic pictures and phantasma of nature were hardly remarked by Elodia ; the shades of evening gathered around. " Another day has past !" said the young girl as she left the pavilion. Then, as she looked at the snow which covered the nearest peak, she exclaimed, " days, years, and ages , have gone since that white diadem has crowned the mountain ; time respects it more than the race of man. It has survived the ancient patriarchs, antediluvian forests, and the trophied monuments of war. It will be there, long after the hamlet of Underlach has forgotten the orphan of the abbey, and ceased to bless the name ofthe Solitary !" Just then a violent stroke, not far from Elodia, burst open the gate of the park next to the fields , and suddenly a warrior, armed from head to foot, presented himselfbefore her. Like the nymph Hesperia at the sight ofthe son of Priam, the young maiden would have fled, but the stranger stopped her, and raised his vizor. " It is I !" said he in a fierce tone, and 66 Those who have travelled in Switzerland, may have often remarked these wonderful scenes. (See all the Descriptions of the Alps:) THE SOLITARY. 69 Elodia recognized Egbert. "What would you with me ?" said she. "Follow me !" said the Count De Norendall he seized the trembling hand of the orphan, but his own hand trembled more than hers ; and the hasty impetuousness of his movements attested the disorder of his mind. " Ah leave me,'" said the niece of Herstall, for heaven's sake, take pity upon me !" " Thou hadst no pity for Egbert. ' "" So saying, he drew her along in spite of her resistance and plaintive entreaties ; a carriage, escorted by several warriors, was in waiting for the victim ; but before they reached the gate of the park, Elodia fell at his feet. "Egbert !" said she, " noble Egbert, stop ! -no, you are not capable of a crime ; return to yourself, magnanimous knight ; for the first time, will you be deaf to the cries of innocence ? Kneeling, and bathed in tears, how beautiful she was in her grief! how strong in her weakness ! Egbert did not answer, but he gazed upon her, and paused for a moment ... his mighty heart was shaken this was his first guilty act ; he had dreaded to undertake it, he feared to complete it.

"Arise !" said the subdued warrior, " arise , it is I who kneel to thee. No, I am not a monster, but I adore thee ; I was not born to be a cowardly spoiler, but I cannot live without thee. Honour is precious to me ; virtue is dear to me ; but mylove for thee is stronger than the restraints of honour and virtue. Angel ofpurity ! save me from crime ; I can still leave thee free .... retract thy first refusals, recall Egbert to the abbey. Speak, I ask but one word ... one single word ofhope." 7* 70 THE SOLITARY. Staggering, and like one distracted, the Count De Norendall leaned against the wall, expecting his final sentence. His heart beat feverishly ; his helmet he threw aside , his head could not support its weight ; his hand pressed his burning forehead, and his face was pale and altered ; he implored and dreaded an answer. The hand of Egbert no longer held Elodia captive, for his repentance seemed to have annihilated him. The daughter of Saint Maur, instead of answering, only thought of escaping. The moment appeared favourable, the shades of evening might protect her flight. Rapidly she fled towards the neighbouring bowers, and flattered herself with the hope of disappearing among the close foliage. Roused by her attempt to escape , the Count De Norendall pursued the fugitive , betrayed bythe whiteness of her dress. Vainly, like the Armenian gazelle before the Arab hunter of the desert, did her light steps scarcely touch the earth--she was again in the power ofthe furious Egbert. "The die is cast !" said he, carrying her rudely back to the gate of the park ; "thy own destruction thou wilt have, thou wilt have mine ; then let our destinies be accomplished ! ... What ! not one word of pity-not one consoling look !" " Cruel one !" added he, in the accents of grief and despair ; " was it then such a dreadful fate to be the companion of Egbert ! Knowest thou not that more than one heart has sought his heart?-That more than one beauty has secretly sighed for him thou disdainest ! Alas ! Egbert had never loved ... How he THE SOLITARY. 71 now pities those whose affections he once contemned ! Elodia ! You hate me ; and I hate myself ; well then, have the courage to tell me so ! Overwhelm me with expressions of enmity and indignation ; we shall soon have crossed the valley, the torrent is there .... show me the abyss, and I will obey ; you shall be free. " The wild tenderness of his accents, his impassioned ecstasy, the contest within of fury, repentance , and love, deeply affected the sensibility ofElodia. Without strength to resist him, and deprived of all help, feeble and despairing, the orphan no longer vented her griefin useless lamentations, but her imploring eyes were fixed upon the resolute warrior, who could not bear the sight of her sorrow. They took the road to the hamlet ; the villagers had all retired to their cottages, and no one was there to perceive the ravishers. The moon now broke from the thick clouds which veiled her silvery form ; Egbert was mounted on his courser, he rode close by the carriage of Elodia, and they had reached the bridge of the cataract. What terrible voice suddenly resounded through the forest ! What colossal warrior opposed himself as a barrier to the robbers ! Whose was that armorial shield, which by its immense size recalled to mind the buckler of the son of Thetis ! Whose were those glittering arms, that reflected the lustre ofthe lamp ofnight ! The soldiers of Egbert, all at once attacked the audacious intruder, and every sword was immediately raised to his head. The clashing steel flashed fire ; the clang of arms rung to a distance, and the noise ofthe combat started the echoes ofthe mountain. 72 THE SOLITARY. On the side of Egbert was number and valour, but at the extremity of the bridge was audacity and death. The terrified Elodia gazed on the stranger of the forest. Calm in the midst of the tumult around him, his proud forehead arose unshaken. His resplendent sword seemed the flaming brand of the archangel at the doors ofEden, and a black crest waved above his golden helmet, like a funereal pall upon a triumphal monument. Like some gigantic wrestler he overthrew all who approached him ; such was the saviour of Rome defending the bridge ofthe Tiber. The companions of Egbert rolled into the torrent, and the furious Count De Norendall rushed, sword in hand, on the indefatigable conqueror. -Strange to say! the valiant warrior recoiled at the sight, and by a gesture of command arrested the career ofthe Count Egbert, for a moment, suspended his attack ; the mysterious man, as if accustomed to dictate , appeared to have the right of imposing upon him his orders. Removing the immense buckler which hid his admirable form, he raised the vizor of his casque. A ray of moonlight fell on the radiant front of the son of victory, and beams of light sparkled in his eyes ; less brilliant with beauty and glory was the sovereign ofgods on Mount Ida, darting the thunderbolt. The maiden of Underlach recognized the mountain hunter ; her saviour was the Solitary. But what caused the sudden terror of Egbert ? the features of the conqueror were known to him. Whence arose the incomprehensible agitation of the bold Count De Norendall. All his senses were overcome. With his eyes fixed on an apparition, which he believed perhaps THE SOLITARY. 73 supernatural, he in his turn drew back ; his shield slipped from his hold , his sword from his grasp, and his suppliant hands implored his powerful enemy. The lips ofEgbert attempted to give utterance to some confused expressions which Elodia could not understand. He seemed to solicit a word from the wild and silent genius, who by one gesture had almost annihilated him ; but he waited in vain..... He started up and wished to approach the triumphant warrior whom he contemplated with mingled terror and admiration ; but the Solitary, as a signal of repulse, extended his hand. Leaning against a rock, the invincible hero lowered the vizor of his casque. The winds ofthe forest, agitating the dark plumes which waved over his helmet, whispered around him deep sighs half drowned by the roar of the cataract. The shadowy moon disappeared behind a cloud, and the cavalier in dazzling armour, seemed but a dim phantom, waiting to award some decree of death. He had not proffered a single word, and yet Egbert received the expected answer. Raising his ensanguined steel, the Solitary, with its bloody point, bade Egbert mark the summit of the Wild Mountain, illumined by one departing ray. Egbert comprehended this mysterious sign of the irre-" ristible power before him ; " I hasten to meet thee there," exclaimed he, and fled precipitately towards the dreaded rock. The Solitary, approaching the carriage of the orphan, commanded . ... and the postilion , trembling and submissive, returned towards the monastery. The intrepid chief sprung on one of the 74 THE SOLITARY. horses of the warriors he had conquered, and escort. ed the young girl he had saved. With what grace the hero managed the reins of his courser ! With what martial vigour he cleared the ravines ! How he restrained the mettle of the fiery animal ! Doubtless his life had been illustrated by wonderful exploits ; his august brows had doubtless been crowned with innumerable laurels. How many ene mies must that terrible hand have vanquished in the field of battle ! What a lustre surrounded him when decorated with those arms which he seemed never to have laid aside ! .... But now the vaulted halls of the cloister of Underlach resounded with the clattering ofthe horse's hoofs, and the wheels of the vehicle of Elodia. -The Solitary was gone. 1 1 THE SOLITARY. 75 CHAPTER V. HERSTALL caught the orphan of the monastery in his arms. When he was informed of all the occurrences of the evening, he blessed the Almighty for the protection of innocence, and the liberating warrior whom the hand divine had employed in the res cue . But how should he testify his gratitude to the Solitary ! On the Wild Mountain, the Solitary had rendered himself inaccessible ; in his estimation, an attempt to approach his abode, appeared an indiscretion, an ingratitude, and even a crime. His vengeance had inflexibly pursued those who had had the temerity to climb his steep rocks ; for, according to popular ru mour, dreadful punishments had overtaken them for their audaciousness, ere they reached the hermitage on the mountain. The victims were nameless, but all were certain of chastisement ; no one knew whence they came, buttheir disappearance was credibly affirmed ; each horrid adventure and tragic catastrophe was whispered around by the peasants, and the recital created indescribable terror. No inhabitant of Underlach would dare to expose himself to the indignation ofthe mysterious being. A malediction of the Solitary seemed a spark from the thunderbolt ; one would have said that, fallen on the criminal, it opened before his eyes a bottomless gulf, where hope shed not 76 THE SOLITARY. a ray, and was hopeless. The Unknown of the Wild Mountain was isolated from his fellow creatures as if surrounded by a magic circle, bya mysterious haze ; he appeared on his deserted rocks to dwell in a superior region, where none but he had the right to breathe. Where was his dwelling ? How had it been erected ? The vulgar, aghast, dared not interrogate themselves on this subject even in the silence of their cabins. Even conjecture seemed forbidden. Elodia, exhausted by fatigue , was still sleeping when Herstall consulted Anselmo on the propriety of conveying the orphan to some retired situation , until the recollection of her should be effaced from the heart of Egbert, for he dreaded a new attempt from the Count De Norendall, and wished, therefore , for time to leave the valley of Underlach. But Anselmo opposed this project. " Make no hasty determinations," said the venerable pastor. " Egbert, you say, has gone to the dreaded Wild Mountain ; let us wait till we hear what has become of him. " " What !" said Herstall, " do you think he will never return ?" “ I‚” said Anselmo, " can think nothing, can divine nothing, can foresee nothing, when the question concerns futurity and the Solitary. Let us wait." During the following day, the daughter of SaintMaur, overcome by the terrifying scenes through which she had passed, could not leave her feverish Couch. Threatening dreams troubled her sleep, and her eyes saw nothing but phantoms and battles. Herstall, distressed, and forgetful of his ' own sufferings, watched beside her. Elodia's youth soon triumphed over her malady. She descended from her cell ; the THE SOLITARY. 77 pure air of the valley refreshed her senses and calmed her spirits. The maid of Underlach received a letter from the Count De Norendall, and carried it to her adopted father. Herstall read the contents. Egbert solicited her pardon ; he had heard already of the plan Herstall had conceived of removing from the abbey, and he begged the orphan to entertain no further fear of him, and to believe in his repentance. He entreated her to grant him another interview ; to listen to him but once more, to receive his last farewell, and then he would quit Helvetia for ever. The touching letter of the Count De Norendall had been dictated by remorse, grief and despair. Herstall could not doubt the sentiments it contained ; each expression bore the seal of truth. Egbert, repentant and resigned, seemed decided for a grievous sacrifice. His last request could not be denied, and Elodia agreed to receive the following day the farewell of the Count De Norendall. The hour of interview approached ; the daughter of Saint- Maur, deeply affected , waited for the friend of René in the saloon of the monastery. The moment was painful for Elodia, but it was still more so for Egbert. The door opened, and the Count De Norendall appeared . Was that the gay and brilliant cavalier, he whom she had seen surrounded by the knights of Lorraine ? What a change in so short a space! His fine black eyes had lost their lustre, and their mournful glances spoke only of grief; his pallid features wore the aspect of dejection , and his youthseemed marked by the premature scythe of time. VOL. 1. 8 78 THE SOLITARY. Accustomed to conceal the stronger feelings of his soul, the friend of René appeared calm and tranquil : but the stream which is troubled to its very source by the raging ofthe tempest, although it may resume its former course, when the sky is cleared, and roll a peaceful wave, yet its turbid waters are no longer limpid. " Noble daughter of Saint- Maur," said Egbert, " to grant the criminal an interview, is to give him a hope of pardon. A fatal passion bewildered me, but repentance brings me to your feet. Cease to be alarmed at the impetuous character of the Count De Norendall, he is no longer to be feared . At this moment he renounces forever Elodia, love , marriage, happiness-why cannot he add .... life ! " " Sir Knight," answered the orphan, " I cannot doubt the sincerity ofyour language : speak not again of errors and repentance : the wrong you have done is repaired, and I have forgotten every thing. " " You forgive me," replied Egbert ; " it is enough ; I have nothing more to expect upon earth. Life to me is now no more than an immense void, darker than deepest night. Elodia ! may you be happy ! my sacrifice is consummated, my soul is resigned, and I have nothing to hope for, on this side the tomb !" A tear of pitying tenderness fell from the eyes of Elodia. The Count De Norendall arose , and was retiring. "Egbert !"said the young girl-and that word, pronounced with a faltering voice, arrested the warrior : he returned precipitately. " Spare me !" cried he, " let not that sweet voice sound in my ears, or again I fall at your feet ! Let not the gentle eyes of Elodia encounter mine. or no human power shall tear me THE SOLITARY. 79 from this spot, and I shall forget all my oaths to the Solitary !" " All your oaths to the Solitary ! " repeated the astonished maiden . " Yes !" said Egbert passionately, " all my oaths. Will you believe it ! I have sworn to fly you ; I have sworn never again to trouble your peace. He exacted such a barbarous promise . ... although he saw my tears flow, -the first I have ever shed !" The friend of René strode across the hall ; vainly he endeavoured to stifle the accents of grief. From the great balcony of the abbey, which overlooked the valley, he directed his eyes towards the Wild. Mountain. " Unfortunate Solitary !" exclaimed he, " dost thou think thyself at this moment more to be pitied than I ?" Every word of the Count De Norendall increased the trouble of the orphan. " Egbert, " said she, " is it then to the Solitary that I owe your noble repentance, your generous resolutions ?" " Oh ! do not interrogate me, ' interrupted the furious warrior : dare not betray his secrets. them !" 1 "" And you ! fear to know After a few moments of silence , " Élodia, " said he calmly, as he approached her, " I might have been to you the happiness of your life, and I felt myselfworthy of being your husband : Heaven has decreed that it should be otherwise . I was not born for so fortunate a fate , and I bid you farewell. If ever my assistance should be necessary to her whom the Solitary guards, as long as this heart beats, dispose as you will of the unhappy Count de Norendall ; 80 THE SOLITARY. you cannot know howmagnanimous is the impassioned soul that adores and renounces you. Egbert would have obtained possession of you by force , but Elodia would have pardoned that fault for the sake of her husband's devotion and tenderness : she would have forgiven love, for the excesses of love : Egbert would have made of his adored companion his divinity upon earth ; he would have surrounded her with all the pomp of glory and opulence, and with all the delights. oflife here below she should have anticipated celestial felicity. On this career of hope, love, and intoxicating pleasure, Egbert has stopped ; he has voluntarily turned away his eyes from the enchanting perspective, and has chosen darkness , despair and annihilation . Gentle Maid ! in tearing myselffrom you, I dare not hope a single recollection , and yet, none more than I have merited regret. " The Count De Norendall left the orphan as he spoke ; alone, by herself, she sighed deeply. The greatness of Egbert's soul was manifested in that short interview. Elodia could not but pity the noble warrior, thus making an entire self abnegation, and sacrificing himself to insure her peace and happiness. It was plain that he held a terrible secret ; but it seemed to the orphan that the more the veil of mystery should be raised , the more would Egbert's devotedness appear sublime . Herstall made Elodia repeat, several times, the last conversation of the friend of René, and his surprise increased at every repetition. The Solitary had then exacted from Egbert the sacrifice of his love ! But how could the obscure hermit of the mountain pre- THE SOLITARY. 81 scribe his will to the powerful Count De Norendall ? and by what right had he made himself the arbiter of his destiny ? The old man could not dissemble his regret at not having been able to persuade Elodia to accompany Egbert to the altar. The temper of this warrior appeared to him remarkably noble and generous. Might Elodia ever again meet with a lover more illustrious, a heart more tender, or a hero more magnanimous ? Herstall had once known love, and had studied mankind. He could not explain the indifference of Elodia for Egbert, except by supposing that another had charmed her heart. The young, the brilliant, the intrepid Count De Norendall, possessed every accomplishment pleasing in the eye of beauty, all that is charming to the young, and all that is seducing to the heart of woman ; yet the lustre of his rank, his manly appearance, his glory, his wealth, his name and his virtues, had failed to affect the orphan in his favour. Educated in a wild retreat, and accustomed to see only rude peasants , Elodia had gazed undazzled on the splendours surrounding the friend of René ; the handsome Count De Norendall had offered her his affections, he had painted his sentiments to her with the fire ofyouth and love, he had laid at her feet his fortune and his titles, he wished to elevate her to great dignities, or sacrifice them all for her ; and the poor orphan of an isolated valley had refused the most brilliant proposals, disdained the most seductive cavalier, and remained insensible to the most impassioned sentiments. "Yes," repeated the afflicted Herstall, " another has charmed her heart." 8* 82 THE SOLITARY. Anselmo dwelt near the monastery, and consecrated to his friend every hour of leisure that his duties allowed him. Interesting himself kindly in the destiny of Elodia, Anselmo blamed the conduct of Herstall. Absolute in his will when he thought himself in the right, the pastor of Underlach, in certain circumstances, considered gentleness a weakness, and goodness an error. " Was it right for you, " said Anselmo, "to yield to the caprices of a child ? In this world, a father, (the image ofthe Almighty, who commands and does not consult, ) a father, I say-and were you not one to Elodia ?—should regulate by his own reason the fate of his children. A judge supreme, let him long meditate his sentences ! but once certain oftheir justice, let him pronounce them ! for so his duty commands. The Count de Norendall would * bave promoted the happiness of the daughter of SaintMaur ; you were convinced of it ; you should therefore have lighted the marriage torch. A day will come perhaps, when Elodia, but too late, will repent her refusal ; she will then have the right to say, you were my father, why did you not command the marriage that would have rendered me happy ! I was young, unreasonable, and inexperienced ; why did you listen to me ! .... Does the star of heaven, at the return of spring, consult the plants of the valley, to shed upon them diffusive light and life ?” Herstall, overwhelmed by the reproaches of Anselmo, gave himselfup to regret ; however, he excused his conduct on the faith ofthe last will of his sister, and as he concealed none of his thoughts from the venerable pastor, he confided to him his uneasiness THE SOLITARY. 83 relative to the secret sentiments of his niece. " But in these sequestered vales, " cried Anselmo, " who can have charmed Elodia ?" "Who ?" answered Herstall, "he whomall admire and dread ; he whose existence is a problem, and whose power is a marvel ; he whose name is on every lip, and his benefactions in every memory ; the man of spells and of mystery." “What do I hear ! Can it be possible ! The Solitary of the Wild Mountain ! ".-" Yes. "—" Have they seen each other ?" -" Several times."-" Where have they spoken together ?"—" In the gallery of the monastery. "'- " And how could she love ?"-" Listen, " said Herstall ; " the daughter of Saint-Maur is in the age of illusion and enthusiasm. The Solitary, still young, is said to be the handsomest ofmen. fore even she knew him, the orphan thought only of him ; and her young fancy was excited by the extraordinary and extravagant tales of the peasants . Elodia, hearing continually of the courageous deeds, the heroic acts, the surprising goodness, and the sublime virtues of the Solitary, long before she had seen him, had represented him to her mind as a tutelary genius descended among men. Encompassed by deceitful appearances, and mysterious wonders, this genius of the mountain has unexpectedly shown himself.... The beauty of his person was a new magic to Elodia ; an almost celestial being gazed upon her with love ... How could she resist so many enchantments !" Be- " The stranger ofthe Wild Mountain is then enamoured ofthe orphan ?" " Can I doubtit ! Invisible, he ever follows her steps, and is constantly intent upon ber ; he seems initiated into all the secrets of 84 THE SOLITARY. 署 the earth ; and well instructed as to past events, he even reveals to her the future ; he is acquainted with the lords of the court of Nancy. Through him, the projected marriage of Egbert and the princess of Lorraine was communicated to Elodia ; and it was he whose heroic valour saved the orphan from the hands ofrobbers. "The Solitary is doubtless a terrible warrior. Alone, at the head of the bridge, he overcame the whole troop ofthe Count De Norendall. Had you only heard Elodia relate the details of the surprising combat ! With what warmth she painted the new Achilles, whose shield , raised above his enemies, triumphed over a whole battalion ! With what admiration she represented this soldier of victory effulgent in warlike armour, like an archangel under celestial banners ! Her enthusiasm betrayed to me her love. " " And what are her hopes ? and what may be your projects ?" said Anselmo. "The hermit of Under. lach," answered Herstall , " is no vulgar mortal, for every thing proves the contrary. Anselmo, would you think it ? he dictated his orders to the Count De Norendall ! The illustrious friend of the Duke of Lorraine fell at the feet of the Unknown of the Wild Mountain ; the Solitary exacted from Egbert the sacrifice of his affections , and the impassioned lover of Elodia swore to him that he would fly this place forever ! Can I then doubt of the power of Egbert's conqueror, and of his love for the orphan ?—I will go to him on the Wild Mountain. "-" You ! Herstall !" "Wherefore this terror ? I know that there are rumours among the people of horrible catastrophes THE SOLITARY. 85 menacing those who are bold enough to climb the mountain without special permission ; but, should these tales startle me ? Were it even true that he had punished the indiscretion of some, who were bold enough to disturb his retreat, certainly, the adopted father of her he loves , need fear no violence. It is not curiosity that would lead me to his mysterious habitation, but the happiness of Elodia, and perhaps, even his own. " " But,,"" said Anselmo, “ have you conceived the singular idea of uniting your niece to the Solitary ?" " I ," said Herstall , " have formed no plan ; I can take no resolution ; but I must see the conqueror of Egbert. " " You must see him ! say you since such is your desire , I wish that you may succeed." " Why, do you doubt the possibility of my reaching him ?" " I tell you, " answered Anselmo, "that I expect from the Solitary only the extraordinary, the supernatural; and the incomprehensible.”

"But my business ," cried Herstall, " concerns his own destiny. There must be an end to this mystery. " "This mystery !" exclaimed Anselmo, in a prophetic tone ; "Wo to you if you raise the veil ! Hersstall ! he who approaches an abyss, runs the hazard ofbeing ingulphed . There is not a mountaineer of Underlach, but whatcries with me, Climb not the Wilit Mountain !" " Anselmo ! what do I care for popular superstitions. I do not believe in magic ; the conqueror of Egbert is but a man, who by generous traits has proved that he possesses great virtues ; what then have I to fear ? The benevolent acts he has done, are positive facts ; the guilty deeds he is reproached with 86 THE SOLITARY. are only vague conjectures. My resolution is unshaken to- morrow I set out for the Solitary." " To- morrow ! " said Anselmo rising, " enough ! tomorrow I will pray for you ." The daughter of Saint- Maur was informed of the determination which Herstall had taken , and she learnt that he intended to seek the Solitary, (that strange man who believed himself commissioned to watch over her, ) and to have a particular conversation with him on the Wild Mountain. The maid of Underlach was far from flattering herself that this interview would lead to a result which she indefinitely desired, but on which she dared not rest her thoughts ; yet a secret whisper seemed to tell her that some great and coming event was about to change her destiny. The nearer the moment approached when the Baron Herstall was to repair to the dreaded mountain, the more fervidly did the prayers of the orphan ascend. A confused expression of disquiet wandered over her features once so calm ; her agitation was betrayed by her hasty motions . She would tremble without a cause. She spoke or answered quickly, without regarding the meaning of her words. The least noise terrified her ; the slightest object surprised, and the least question disturbed her. Too sincere to dissemble, and too artless to restrain her sentiments, she seemed half distracted. Herstall noticed her, and understood her feelings ; he sighed, and hastened his departure. The star of day had finished the half of his course. Already, thought Elodia, he has doubtless reached the THE SOLITARY. 87 hermitage of the Solitary. She sat in the great balcony of the monastery, unmindful of the hours that were passing, and never turned her eyes from the Wild Mountain, but to raise them to Heaven. Love, in the heart of the orphan, was a religious sentiment ; for sensibility feels the same necessity for prayer that it does for love. The sun touched the horizon, and his golden disk, half veiled, shone only on the summit of the mountains. Herstall should have returned by sunsetWhy has he delayed ?-what can have happened to him ? In the heart of the orphan, fear succeeded impatience ; the shades of evening will soon cover the hamlet-yet neither in the distance , nor on the path from the forest, nor on any of the roads through the valley, could Herstall be seen. The last fires of the setting sun traced a red line along the summit of the Wild Mountain ; -it seemed to the shuddering Maid of Underlach as a bar of blood between her and the hills....and she screamed involuntarily. Mother Ursula ran towards her ; the orphan ofthe abbey precipitately quitted the balcony-the disorder ofher spirits was at its height. " Follow me !" cried the frantic girl. " Whither ?" " To the Wild Mountain." " To the wild Mountain !" repeated the horror- struck Ursula.-" I command you to do so !" It was the first time that Elodia had spoken thus , but her voice was firm, and her looks severe. Mother Ursula, amazed and confounded, followed her silently. Thick clouds were heaped on the southern horizon, and the sun had disappeared ; no breath of air 88 THE SOLITARY. shook a leaf in the valley ; nature was still, but it was the calm that precedes the tempest. The burning heat of the air, the startled flight of the birds, a distant murmur, threatening gleams of lightning, and a black shade slowly diffusing over the deep blue skies, announced the storm ; but Elodia remarked none of these presaging signs. She had crossed the meadows.-Nothing could arrest the rapidity of her course. When beyond the torrent, and near the entrance of the forest, at the foot of the Wild Mountain, she stopped a moment to gather strength . " In the name of Heaven ! where are you going ?" cried Mother Ursula, overwhelmed with fatigue and petrified with terror. " Herstall," replied the orphan in tears, " Herstall, my protector, my father, has been ever since morning at the hermitage of the Solitary. " "He! good Heaven !" interrupted Ursula, " then he is lost !" " I am going to seek for him ;" resumed the trembling Elodia. " I. fall at your feet," said the despairing Ursula ; " have pity on me ; have pity on yourself ; you only advance to your death. "—" What matters it ! Herstall, overcome by his years, may have sunk, exhausted with fatigue , among the rocks of the forest. Perhaps at this very moment he needs my help ; perhaps even he calls me. No! no human power shall stop 99 · · 99 me.' "Then you will both perish. ' "I shall have fulfilled my duty," said the maid of Underlach, and plunged into the forest. Mother Ursula darted forward, seized her white robe, and threw herself at her feet. "You may return to the monastery," said the young girl, “ and I shall go alone ; but leave me ! " — THE SOLITARY. 89

• • I abandon you? never ! Do you not hear the storm ?

The very skies oppose the design you have dared to undertake. Just Heaven ! avenging Heaven ! smite the detested mountain !" "Begone !" exclaimed Elodia, with the accents of grief and despair. me !" " Leave Afurious hurricane arose ; the reverberating roar of the thunder shook the forest, and the winds blew uncontrolled among the dark larchs . The tempest burst on the heights of the valley.... The almost inanimate Ursula lay at the feet of Elodia. " Celestial aid of innocence ! " cried the orphan, 66 save me !" The veil which covered her head was carried away by the contention of the elements, and the scattered ringlets of her hair floated in disorder over her forehead and shoulders. The rain fell in torrents , and the forest was shrouded in a thick night, only illumi nated at intervals by the red flashes of the lightning. Raising Mother Ursula, Elodia drew her with difficulty towards a neighbouring oak, and supported her chilled limbs. Leaning against the protecting tree, pale and resigned, the gentle maiden of the abbey, exposed to the fury of the storm, motionless and silent, and seen by the flickering gleam of the lightning, might well seem the white shade of a spirit from Elysium inthe midst of the regions of darkness. At length the impetuous storm passed, and a ray of light streamed from the west ; the thunder no longer pealed above the mountain. The loud voice of the hurricane spoke only in the distance ; the clouds were dispersing towards the east, and the azure of serene skies was reappearing. The plants, bowed VOL. I. 9 90 THE SOLITARY. by the rain, raised their humid stems ; the birds, no longer fearful , were warbling again ; and nature, like a terrified nymph who has been pursued by gloomy satyrs , seemed escaped from frightful dangers, to Fause awhile and regain her breath. In vain are the skies again clear ; the tempest is still in Elodia's bosom. Her limbs are chilled, her brow is burning, and her eyes shine with feverish lustre. The roads are inundated ; the torrent rolls its sandy waves in another course. Other ravines, worn by the storm, descend from the hills and cross the forest paths ; the roads are choaked with overthrown trees. But no more obstacles, no more terrors, disturb the orphan ; she is not now the trembling dove of the monastery : under a delicate and timid form, Elodia possessed a great soul, which only wanted an occasion to develop all its energy. Mother Ursula recovered her senses ; with a supplicating look she seemed to interrogate her young mistress, and ask what was her resolution. Elodia understood her mute prayer ; she silently pointed to the road to the monastery, and resumed the path to the Wild Mountain. " A long space already separated her from Ursula, who followed her with longing eyes, and appeared even ready to sacrifice her life. Suddenly a lengthened groan struck her ear .... she shuddered That plaintive accent seemed the last sigh of some unfortunate mortal ; and she darted towards a group of trees, from which the sound bad issued. .... By the last light of day, she perceived on the turf an inanimate form. It was covered with a black THE SOLITARY. 91 dress. The orphan approached hesitatingly, lest she should meet the direful aspect of a corpse abandoned by assassins. At length she took courage, raised the funereal mantle , and-recognized Herstall . At this dreadful sight, the maid of Underlach filled the air with her cries. Kneeling, and bending over the livid body, she endeavoured to raise it , and called on her father by the tenderest names. Ursula had reached Elodia ; " the monster !" cried she, " he has assassinated him. I foresaw it. Still another victim !" " Assassinated !" repeated Elodia with hor- " wherethen is the wound ? where is the blood ?" With trembling hands and wild eyes, she sought in vain for the traces ofmurder. " Perhaps, " said she, he has only swooned. The fatigue he has undergone, his great age, -this fatal tempest, and thus for me he has exposed his days ! and I shall have caused his death ! Ursula fly to the hamlet ; prompt assistance may restore him to life . ” ror, 63 Ursula obeyed ; she hastened her steps as much as her age and strength would allow, but she was far from entertaining hopes like Elodia. " It is all over with him, " said she in a low voice ; " he has merited his fate." The daughter of Saint- Maur remained alone, with the old man stretched motionless on the humid moss of the forest. She endeavoured to warm in her hands the cold hands of her father, and her scalding tears bathed his pallid features. She spoke to him, she questioned him, and, in her bewildered state of mind, she would pause for an answer. Then, per- 92 THE SOLITARY. suading herself that he had ceased to live, she gave herself up to excess of grief. Ursula at last returned ; she came with Marceline and two peasants. At the sight of Marceline, Elodia arose, and, with her eyes bathed in tears, threw herself into her arms. While the peasants of the hamlet prepared the litter on which they were going to transport Herstall to the abbey , Marceline endeavoured to comfort the orphan. " Does he yet live ?" cried Elodia. Marceline leant over the old man ; she laid her hand on his heart, appeared to listen an instant, and pronounced these words : " He lives ." Elodia screamed with joy. " Can he then have failed in his victim ?" said Ursula with surprise. " Did you suspect a murder ?" cried Marceline. pect a murder !" repeated Ursula : " Herstall returns from the Wild Mountain. ” " Do I susAt this answer the indignant Marceline turned her head away in contempt. The peasants, bearing the body ofHerstall, descended the mountain. Supported by Marceline, Elodia followed this funereal procession, and, under the shadow of night, the escort of desolation and death, silently crossed the deserted courts of the abbey. THE SOLITARY. 93 CHAPTER VI. EVERY assistance that art could afford , was lavished on the old man of the monastery. The afflicted Elodia never quitted the bedside where her adopted father still lay stretched without motion at the dawn of the next day. Anselmo, the Esculapius of the valley, with all his care, scarcely dared to entertain the hope of his recovery. No word of encouragement came from his lips , and the silence of the good pastor presaged the decease of Herstall. . The tears of Elodia, her extreme paleness , and her deep sighs , affected the venerable Anselmo . He endeavoured to prepare her against the dreadful blow which must deprive her of a second father. " My daughter," said he, " should God recall the pure soul of Herstall, let us bless the decree that terminates his sufferings ; the gates of immortality will be opened to him ; already celestial concerts celebrate the approaching departure of the elect ! Half opening the azure skies, already the angel of the last sigh calls him to eternal felicities. The dying couch ofthe just man is the consecrated ark on which descends the spirit of the Most High. Pure maiden ! retire ; you alone are to be pitied. " " No," cried th young girl, " I will not leave his dying bed ! " ... At that moment her eye was struck by a slight motion of Herstall ; it lighted in her soul a ray of hope. 9* 94 THE SOLITARY. New efforts to reanimate the frozen limbs of the old man were tried with success. Aslight carnation hue coloured his cheek, and his eyes again opened to the light. Herstall after a few moments appeared to recognize the cherished objects which surrounded him.. His eyes were fixed upon the orphan with the strongest expression of tenderness and grief. He endeavoured to speak to her, but his paralyzed tongue remained mute. Elodia approached Anselmo. " Oh ! my father !" said she, " do not disguise any thing from me ; is his state natural ? or has some perfidious enemy endeavoured to hasten his death ?" " Nothing," replied Anselmo, " warrants our thinking 80." " And you suspect no crime ?” —“ If any crime has been committed, it has left no trace. Herstall has fallen in the forest struck with apoplexy. No guilty hand, no homicide steel, has been raised against him. The fatigue of a long journey, the tempest, and, perhaps, some too violent emotion, have hastened the fatal stroke by which I have long feared he would be assailed. ” • This answer eased the heart of the orphan of an overwhelming weight ; her blood now circulated freely in her veins. Anselmo, as if with an inspired voice, like the terrible prophet crying under the walls of the temple of Solomon, Wo to Jerusalem ! thus continued : " A gloomy veil covers the circumstances which preceded the fall of Herstall in the depths of the forest. Perhaps, in raising it, a horrid mystery ... but it is only the Supreme Being who can punish se- THE SOLITARY. 95 cret iniquity. There is another tribunal than that of human justice. A reproving voice shall arise from the solitude ! ... Like a fragile vase the colossus shall be broken. Vainly shall crime raise his imposing throne and triumph on the high places ! ... the thunderbolt is above the mountain. " As he spoke the last words, his accent and his look were unearthly. A supernatural power seemed to direct his discourse. The maiden of Underlach trembled ... her head fell silently on her breast, and from her eyes escaped fresh tears. The And now another day had plunged into the deep gulf which swallows months, years, and ages. daughter of Saint Maur ascended to her cell, and vainly courted a sleep of a few hours to recruit her strength, so that she might watch over her expiring father ; but sleep fled from her eyelids as consolation had from her heart. The maid of Underlach was again with Herstall ; she was alone beside him. The old man could not speak to her, but his eyes, more expressive than ever, seemed to beg the orphan to question him, as if he had conceived the hope of answering her by some other means than words. " Oh my father !" said Elodia, " do not abandon your child. " Her hand within the old man's, seemed slightly pressed. " Ah," continued she, " if it had not been for this fatal journey, and your interview with the Solitary ! " The terrified orphan stopt. At the name of the Solitary, Herstall appeared seized with sudden horror. A ray of anger escaped from his animated eye. His spirit, to become audible, endeavoured to burst the bonds 96 THE SOLITARY. which fettered it. A violent effort, like a last convulsion, restored motion to his quivering lips , giving utterance to a few stifled sounds, a few almost inarticulate words. Elodia listened-" The monster ! Ah unfortunate creature, fly !" The fire of his eyes had disappeared-his limbs were stiffened, his voice died away, his breath was cold, a death-like pall had passed rapidly over his already disfigured features. It was all over ! between the maiden and the dying man, the angel of death had drawn the veil of eternity. It was several days since the just man had finished his career, and it was now the orphan whom Anselmo endeavoured to restore to life. She appeared lost to herself, and insensible to the tender cares of the pas tor of Underlach . The hues ofher complexion were faded, her voice spoke only in sighs, and her existence was a continued pain. The flower broken by the storm , raises again its languishing stem ; so the daughter of Saint- Maur escaped from destruction. But alas ! deprived of the only support of her youth, she grieved at having survived, and dared not think upon the future. Slowly she turned her feeble steps towards the balcony of the monastery, and silently gazed around. The car ofthe god of light was radiant over the ethereal plains ; his fires had dissipated the vapours which covered the mountains, and the summits of the peaks crowned with snow, white and dazzling, were relieved by the blue of the horizon. The meadow was enamelled with flowers, and nature seemed decked in primeval beauty and purity. The cascade murmured THE SOLITARY. 97 at a distance, its silvery waves meandered along the verdant moss, and the songsters of the grove warbled their joyous carols. " Ah !" cried the orphan, in a plaintive tone, " beside my existence and my destiny, beside this unfortunate heart overwhelmed with regret, nothing in nature is changed. " As she spoke , her tears fell like rain. Alas ! to the heart lacerated by griefand overwhelmed by adversity, what are clear serene skies and smiling landscapes but bitter mockery! Ah ! whatever may be the regret occasioned here below bythe extinction of genius or the disappearance of the just, heaven does not accord a tear, nor the earth a sigh, and nature , indifferent to man, who be lieves her made for him, pursues her usual marchshe neither attends to his birth, nor waits at his death. The wishes of Herstall were fulfilled. In the gardens of the monastery was a green knoll, shaded by large trees , whose thick foliage intercepted the rays of the sun. There his mortal remains were deposited. No monument was constructed over them ; no stone covered the grave, no proud inscription numbered his virtues. The adopted father of Elodia forbade these funeral pomps, these vanities of the dust. A simple rustic cross modestly arose from the turf. The venerable pastor of Underlach rarely left the young girl, of whom he was now the only stay. By his attentive cares and pious discourses he sought to heal the wounds of her spirit. Anselmo being acquainted with the last intentions of his friend , sent his nephew, young Conrad , to announce the death of Her stall to the Countess Imberg. Every day he expected the return ofConrad, and the answer ofthe Countess. 98 THE SOLITARY. He thought it probable that the new protectress of Elodia would visit the monastery, and an apartment was prepared. Elodia recovered her strength, and to pray at the tomb of Herstall was the first idea of her convalescence. At the fall of day she crossed the park, and alone at the foot of the grave, knelt and wept. " Oh my father!" said Elodia, " a stranger in a strange world, what can I expect from time, but an accumulation of suffering ? What have I to hope from men but pity ? Oh ! byyour prayers obtain my deliverance, and to open a heavenward path for me, let the barriers of life be broken !" Leaning against the cross of the grave , the daughter of Saint-Maur, absorbed in pious meditation, allowed the moments to pass without remarking their flight. Repulsing with dread the recollection of the Solitary, she inwardly repeated the last words of her expiring father. The man ofthe Wild Mountain, a mysterious power, was to her no longer a celestial one ; and yet she could not represent him to her heart as an evil genius. Since the death of Herstall she had ever felt a terror attached to the name ofthe Solitary ; perhaps she would have had the courage to fly him, but she had not the power to forget him. Nocturnal rays alone enlightened the sepulchral bower. Surprised herself at her long reverie , chilled by the humid air of the evening, and pale as the aspen leaf by the light of the moon, the maid of Underlach slowly raised her languid head ; ---what an object struck her eyes ! Standing before her against the dark cypress, as beautiful as when he seemed to her an Or- THE SOLITARY. 99 pheus from the shades of the blest, the mountain hunter was gazing upon her in silence , motionless as the statue of a funereal monument His right arm negligently raised a part of his mantle, fallen from his shoulders , and draped like the royal vestments of the Cæsars . Over his manly and bare forehead fell his locks of raven hair. The moon, through the foliage , seemed to bind him with a silvery scarf, and her quivering lustre environed him with magic reflections. Less splendid with beauty was Endymion under the bowers of Elidus , when he stopped the car of Diana. Less seducing appeared the Hippolytus of the forest, to the eyes ofthe nymphs of Greece. The calm mien of the conqueror of Egbert, the mild expression of his eyes, and the serenity of his countenance, chased at once from the bosom of Elodia all dread-inspiring recollections. His presence alone seemed to efface them, and the wizard of the mountain had resumed his power. The orphan believed she saw a pious tear fall from his eyes upon the grave of Herstall. His appearance in the funereal bower, this last homage rendered to the memory of her father, filled Elodia's heart with secret joy and tender gratitude ; it justified the Solitary in her estimation. It was a brilliant light breaking through her gloomy thoughts, like a breath divine dispersing the clouds from the horizon. Life to her will no longer be a journey through the desert ; she is no longer alone in the universe ; and when she kneels again at the grave of Herstall, she surely will not address to heaven the same prayer. 100 THE SOLITARY. " He, a monster ! he, a murderer !" thought the orphan. " Ah! virtue could not choose a more celestial form to descend upon earth ..... The dying Herstall's reason may have been alienated ; and ought I to believe the accusations of delirium !" The Solitary approached her. " You could think meguilty !" said he, in a reproachful manner ; " you could accuse me ofthe death of Herstall !" Those words responded so well to the secret thoughts ofElodia, that it seemed as ifthe mysterious man could read her very soul. Disturbed and agitated, she could not interrupt the Solitary ; his voice rung so sweetly to her heart ! ... so powerful was the melody of his expressive accents ! Elodia dared not to speak lest she should cease to hear. " Pure and spotless maiden ! " resumed he, " I wished to see you once again that I might justify myself. Over the mortal remains of Herstall, and before this revered cross, I swear, in presence of heaven, that never on the Wild Mountain has the Solitary stained himself with crime. " As he spoke, his hand raised upon the sacred sign of redemption, seemed to defy terrestrial or divine powerto belie the solemn protestation . " Herstall !" continued he, " if I have attempted thy life, if I even entertained the thought, let thy threatening voice arise from the sepulchre. If I have violated truth, denounce the criminal. " The heart of the orphan beat violently, but her agitation was no longer that of fear. Her suspicions were destroyed, her alarms were dissipated ; and far from dreading the present moment, she would have THE SOLITARY. 101 prolonged its duration. " I see," continued the Solitary, " that you believe my oaths, and I am satisfied ; .... Farewell . ” "" "Will you pardon my unkind suspicions ?" said the orphan timidly. " Appearances were against me,' answered he, " and you might believe me guilty. Besides, I have been so long under the weight of human condemnation, that I am no longer surprised at injustice. " " Do you leave me !" said Elodia, as he turned from the bower. 66 Perhaps for ever ;" was his only answer. The maid of Underlach made an involuntary movement to detain him, and grief overspread her lovely features. " What ! " exclaimed the Solitary, " is it possible that you regret my departure !" " Were you not mydeliverer !" replied the young girl, deeply agitated. As she pronounced that simple expression, " my deliverer," her touching voice expressed more than gratitude. The mountain hunter could no longer master his feelings " Angel of the monastery," cried he, " do not detain me, or you are lost ! " And the incomprehensible man seemed to repel her. The terrified daughter of Saint-Maur recoiled ; her heart was oppressed, and crowds of treacherous thoughts oppressed her. Close by the monumental cross she took refuge, as under an ark of salvation , and her tears flowed unrestrained. The mountain hunter, softened and subdued, forgot all his resolves, and fell at her feet. " It is thy will," cried he , " thou snatchest from me the fatal avowal I love thee ! Thou only, like a heavenly Aurora, hast illumined my darkness, and reVol. I. ... 10 102 THE SOLITARY. called me to life . Now, there is nothing on earth for me but Elodia, and Elodia can never be mine. ” " Never !" repeated the orphan , and in that exclamation oflove and despair, her heart was completely disclosed. " Look around thee," continued he wildly, "this flowery turf covers the spoils of the grave, this smiling bower is a tomb ; unfortunate being ! my destiny resembles this deceitful turf, and my love this bower ofdeath. Beloved girl ! let me fly thee ; pursued by the tempest, and blasted by the lightning, I wander at the mercy of the waves on a sea of sufferings and despair ; it is the decree of heaven, and I submit to my fate ; but let me, at least, seek the abyss alone ! There is yet time .... Save thyself." My passion startles thee, " he added ; " Elodia, do not endeavour to understand the man of fatality ; be satisfied with repelling him. Angel of Earth ! imitate the spirits of Heaven, and close thy abode against bim." The maid of Underlach felt her limbs trembling under her ; petrified with terror, she exclaimed, " Arise ! alas ! what can I answer to you ! you have wounded my soul. " The Solitary saw her tottering gait, and wished to support her ; he passed his arm around her waist, and, for a moment forgetful , her head fell gently upon his breast like the white flower of the ivy, clinging to the elm ofthe valley. The placid light of the star of lovers fell on her celestial face . Her long eye- lashes, half closed , shaded her enchanting eyes. Less beautiful was the fainting Psyche when Zephyr bore her from the fatal precipice. THE SOLITARY. 103 The stranger gazed upon her in silence ; a burning fire flowed through his veins. Suddenly he exclaimed passionately, " Elodia, is it then true ! Elodia, dost thou love me ?" There was no more fierceness in his expression, no more wildness in his features ; he tenderly pressed to his heart the adored orphan. At the gentle question of love, the maid of Underlach came to herself, and blushing, disengaged herselffrom his arms. " Do Ilove you ?" answered she , " of what use were it to you so ! Have you not told me that Elodia never tell can be yours The man ofthe Wild Mountain appeared fearful of answering her ; his heart seemed rent with the contest of passions ; he left her precipitately, and darted from the sombre bower ; then as precipitately returning, hastily broke silence ; "And how," he exclaimed, " can I think that Elodia wishes, ever to be mine ? Wandering, proscribed , and unhappy, what can I offer a wife ? A rock of exile, a wild hut, a name untold , an unfortunate existence . " " Alone and abandoned," replied Elodia, " without parents, or wealth, or protector, what have I but you upon earth ?" " Oh enchanting girl !' interrupted the delighted hunter of the mountain, "those words change my destiny, and the thunder- cloud has retired from my head ; thou lovest me ! heaven must have pardoned me ; I can then still hope for happiness. Oh ! come with me ! and thou shalt no longer be alone and abandoned ; I will be thy stay, thy father, thy husband ; Iwillbe every thing to my Elodia. I have but a cabin 101 THE SOLITARY. in the midst of desert rocks ; but with thee , none in nature shall be more blest-none in nature more privileged. I have but a heart to offer thee, but that heart is ardent with love. Innocent dove ! oh come and purify my retreat ; come like an emanation from heaven to change the abyss into Elysium. Like the migratory bird, who has no fixed asylum, no adopted country, and but one cherished companion , I shall possess no other treasures in my solitude than thy love-no other recollections than thy sacrificesno other charms than thy presence. " Alone amid these mountains, far from human powers, surrounded by a cloud of love and delight, we will pass through life happy and unseen. Our enjoyments unknown, shall not excite envy. Alas ! I have known greatness, and learnt to despise it ; I' have possessed wealth, and I have rejected it ; I have been fostered by glory, and I have curst it. Pure maid ! in this vale of miseries, to love is the only supreme good. Love is the halo of the human heart; yes ! a ray escaped from celestial felicities, a glance at the pleasures of another life.-Answer, Elodia, answer, wilt thou confide thy destiny to me ?" As he spoke thus, the mountain hunter seized the hand of the orphan, and drew her from the bower. Disconsolate and subdued, she raised her eyes to heaven, and only resisted feebly. But the moon had disappeared under the horizon ; dark shades covered nature , and the long moaning of the winds sweeping through the distant woods sounded like plaintive voices calling for the help of innocence. THE SOLITARY. 105 66 Stay !" suddenly cried Elodia, " oh stay ! whither would you take me ?". " To the Wild Mountain ! to love ! to happiness ! " cried the enamoured Solitary, and drew the young girl still more rapidly along. Butthe orphan had recovered her courage. " No!" said she with energy, " I will follow none but a husband ; only from the altar shall you have the right of disposing of me." " Are there no altars in the desert ?" cried the Solitary with the most passionate exaltation ; " every where the Lord receives the oaths of men ; every where are kindled the torches of love and hymen. Trust thyselfto me, tender flower of the valley, I swear not to stain thy maiden purity. A heavenly minister shall unite our destinies. Come ! thy husband shall be worthy of thee ; thy marriage- bed willbe pure. Oh my Elodia ! consent to follow me. My. love for thee has restored to me the first guides of my early life , the first sentiments of my youth, honour, loyalty, enthusiasm, and virtue." " No," repeated Elodia with a supplicating voice, and resisting all his efforts, " no ! I ought not to follow you ; leave me !" At this touching exclamation of innocence the Solitary stopped. Like rapid lightning, the moment of enthusiasm had passed like an airy vapour the enchanting pictures disappeared . To the divine vision succeeded a dreadful awakening ; fatal recollections dispelled the illusion , and suddenly recalled his wandering thoughts. The inexplicable man released the hand of the orphan. 10* 106 THE SOLITARY. 1 Forgive," said he, a moment of ecstacy. Youte love me! how dare I hope it ! You ! to follow me to my barren rocks ! was I worthy of such a sacrifice ! No ; my insensate wishes only outraged heaven and earth... I can be just.. You are free. " How changed were his accents ! They were inspired by the deepest regret, grief, penitence , and despair. The orphan was free, but she stood motionless, as if chained to his side. " Return to the monastery," resumed he in a gloomy tone. " There, other inhabitants and other protectors will replace the loss of your adopted father. May you be happy ! .... As for me, to- morrow I exile mysel from the valley. Far beyond Morat Lake, and far from Underlach, on a distant mountain, from the summit of which I can discern the high tower of the abbey, I will make my grave. The passing light that disparts the gloom only renders more terrific the darkness which succeeds. Death, my only hope, will soon terminate my sorrows. Farewell ! If ever misfortune should menace your days, if the presence of the Solitary may save you from danger, light the beacon-- lantern on the tower, and, to my last hour, I will be ready to appear. " He tore himself from the maid of Underlach, and darting out ofthe gardens of the monastery, fled hastily through the shades and the foliage. Unhappy Elodia ! this evening will never be effaced from thy memory. THE SOLITARY. 107 CHAPTER VII. THE star of day had twice completed his diurnal course, since the appearance of the Solitary at the tomb of Herstall. Conrad had not yet returned to the parsonage of Anselmo, and the good pastor could not explain his long delay. Conrad had scarcely attained his fifteenth year ; and he feared that he might have met with some dreadful accident. So young, and wandering without a guide among the mountains, he might have lost his way, and his life be menaced by many a peril, or he might not have been able to bear the fatigue of so long a journey. Anselmo, distressed, impatiently counted the moments. Conrad was the son of a dear sister, and his pupil ; he loved him tenderly, and repented of the message with which he bad charged him ; he almost despaired of his return. From her still car the spouse ofErebus spread a thick veil over the starry vault. The twelfth hour of night had tolled, when a violent blow struck the door of the parsonage, and the old pastor started from sleep. It must be his adopted son.... He hastily arose, lit his lamp, and ran himself to open his hospitable dwelling. He perceived a stranger of high stature ; in his hand was a massy club stained with blood, and his clothes were dripping with water. So, to the father 108 THE SOLITARY. of Dejanira, did Hercules appear when he vanquished the river Achelous. The stranger bore an inanimate body ; and ready to sink with fatigue, gasped for breath. He advanced, and by the feeble light ofthe lamp, recognized in his arms, young Conrad, deprived of sense, pale and gory. Anselmo recoiled with terror. " Fear nothing," said the stranger , " this blood is mine ; I shed it to save Conrad. " " O he is dead, " exclaimed the grieved old man ; " He has only fainted ; hasten to his assistance. "

A large fire was kindled, and the stranger deposited his burthen on a couch before the fire . Young Conrad was drenched with water, and his limbs were cold ; slowly he returned to life. " You saved him,” cried Anselmo, in grateful accents, " but where ?". " On the edge of the torrent. "- " From what dangers ?"-" From the steel of the assassin. "-" What ! yourself alone !"-" Heaven aided. ” —“ Courageous unknown ! who then are you ?" -" The man of the Wild Mountain. "

As if petrified at that name, the pastor of the faithful remained motionless and speechless . Then, suddenly breaking silence, he exclaimed ; -" whoever thou art, my gratitude is due to thee. This devoted generosity. " .... The Solitary interrupted him ; his features expressed a savage disdain, his voice was fierce, and his smile bitter. " Gratitude " said he, "is there any such thing among men !" Anselmo looked upon him with pity. " Incomprehensible mortal !" said he, " adversity has doubtless exhausted her shafts against you ; but is not a soul as THE SOLITARY. 109 great as your's above all fate ! Celestial justice ".... "Celestial justice !" repeated the Solitary in concentrated fury. " Stop ! " cried the old man with holy energy, " Stop ! you would blaspheme. " The terrible man could not resist the voice ofthe minister of heaven ; his proud spirit yielded to the ascendant of virtue and piety. He was silent, and the anger of his eyes was eclipsed. " Myson," said the pastor, with accents of the tenderest interest, as he approached him, " you are wounded. " " Wounded !" answered the Solitary, in a bewildered tone, and as if endeavouring to understand the signification of the word " wounded ! what matters it !" —" Let me but dress your wounds. "-" My wounds are incurable, " said the man of the Wild Mountain, as he laid his hand upon his heart. He was about to depart, when Anselmo stopped him. " Noble saviour of Conrad, " said he, " do not leave me ; deign to accept an asylum for this night, and repose yourself under this hospitable thatch. " " No !" answered the Solitary, " I wish ne other asylum than the caverns of the rock, and I will take no repose save beneath the tomb. " " Lost soul !" exclaimed the priest, " my consolations"—" Have I asked you for any !" replied the haughty and inflexible mortal ; " I ask them from neither God nor man. Return to Conrad , return to your son."; " Every unfortunate fellow-creature is my son, " said Anselmo quickly. " Thou man, at once above and below humanity ! what language dost thou dare to hold !" " Anselmo, " said the Solitary in a calm and solemn tone, "I have long known thy opinion of me. 110 THE SOLITARY. Apostle ofthe Gospel ! be less severe-be more charitable in thy judgments : all appearances are deceitful. The night of mystery is not always that of crime , and were I as guilty as unhappy, remember that the last words of the Saviour of mankind were words of pardon. Minister of a merciful power ! thy mission among men is to absolve, and not to condemn." • The mountain hunter was soon far from the parsonage. The radiant and brilliant dawn had arisen from her illumined palace , and from clouds of gold and purple drove the dark shades of night. Marceline had reached the abbey, and was ushered to the orphan . “ Conrad has returned, " said she , " and almost from the borders of other regions. " The maið ofUnderlach looked at her with surprise. Marceline continued. " Conrad saw the Countess Imberg. He was on his way with her answer, and some presents for Anselmo, when the imprudent boy allowing the precious gifts to be seen, was last night attacked near the torrent by assassins. He screamed when surrounded by the robbers, and the chosen and providential hero instantly appeared. Alone, but armed with an enormous club, he overthrew, he overcame, and immolated, the chief and his satellites . One alone escaped by flight. Conrad was precipitated into the torrent. The Solitary, surrounded by dead bodies, and wounded, had no more enemies to combat, but he perceived that the ward of Anselmo had disappeared. The clothes of the victim floated above the waters ofthe torrent ; the conqueror sprang into the gulf, and twice was Conrad saved. Overwhelmed by fatigue , bleeding and exhausted, did he succumb to THE SOLITARY. 111 despair ? No! while his life remains, it belongs to the unfortunate. The divine genius of the Wild Mountain sustained for a whole hour the wet and cold body of young Conrad, and Father Anselmo recovered his adopted son. " " But the Solitary is wounded, " said the alarmed orphan. His wound is slight, " answered Marceline. " Is he then with Anselmo ?" " The glorious eagle dwells only in the clouds." The pastor of the hamlet had just reached the monastery ; Elodia left Marceline, and flew to meet him. Anselmo held a paper. " Here," said he, " is a letter from the Countess Imberg, and to-morrow she will be here." " Already !" replied Elodia ; " Oh my father ! must I leave so soon the valley of Underlach ?" " I know not the intentions of your protectress dearest daughter ! are we the arbiters of our destinies ?"

The orphan read the billet of the Countess, who appeared deeply interested in her fate . Her expressions were affectionate ; she spoke of her soon arriving at the abbey, and her intentions appeared noble and beneficent. "You do not speak to me of Conrad ?" said Elodia, after a short silence. " He is out of danger," replied Anselmo. " Has he related the details of his dreadful adventure ?” —" Certainly ; and the valour of the warrior to whom he owes his life is continually present to his mind ; his warmth of praise equals his gratitude." " Have you seen him ?" said the orphan with embarrassment. " Whom the Solitary ?" asked Anselmo ; " I saw him but for a moment. " " Did 5 112 THE SOLITARY. you speak to him ?"-" He stole precipitately away from the thanks I would have rendered to his heroic conduct. But he fled in vain ; I shall never forget the generous saviour of Conrad . "—" The generous saviour of Conrad is, however, a mark for the suspicions of hate, and the shafts of calumny !"-" My daughter !" replied Anselmo, let us be silent on what concerns that astonishing man. Heaven alone can understand him--heaven alone can judge him. " Changing the conversation, the pastor of Underlach consulted Elodia on the preparations necessary in the priory, for the arrival of the noble relative of Herstall. Accustomed by her fortune and her rank to all the enjoyments of life, the Countess Imberg would meet nothing but privations at the monastery. No luxury reigned in the apartments of the Gothic edifice. However, the daughter of Saint- Maur wished that the abode of her infancy might offer some charms to her protectress, who would then, perhaps, consent to pass with her the remainder of the summer. She neglected nothing that might embellish the interior of the cloister ; the old furniture was repaired, and the ancient gilding covered with dust, reappeared the. vast saloons of the abbey were decked with baskets of odoriferous flowers, and the orphan had only to wait and hope. The morning dawn half opened the gates of the east, and the peaceful inhabitants of the abbey were still sleeping, when a confused noise of equipage and horses was heard at the priory. She, who was to be a mother to the niece of Herstall, had now arrived ; THE SOLITARY. 113 a numerous escort accompanied her ; squires, pages and warriors preceded her, and disorder, tumult and confusion reigned throughout the broad courts of the monastery. Elodia hastily descended the grand stair of the abbey, and under the vestibule received the Countess Imberg. A brilliant suite surrounded her, and near her was a knight of high degree, armed from head to foot. The noble relative of Herstall opened her arms to the daughter of Saint-Maur, and folded her to her breast, gazing upon her with mingled surprise and admiration. Her beauty, her modesty, her accents, and her grace, all appeared to charm her. "Lovely Elodia ! " said she, as she introduced to her the warrior who accompanied her, " my dearest friend, the chief of one of the most illustrious families of Germany, the ally of the first sovereigns ofthe North, the Prince De Palzo , has been kind enough to conduct me himself to these mountains. He has promised to stay a few days at the abbey , and I hasten to recommend my brave knight to my adopted niece. " The orphan, with a low courtesy, saluted the Prince De Palzo, whose eyes were constantly fixed upon her. The Countess Imberg seemed satisfied with the apartments which had been prepared. Obliging and affectionate , she did not seem discouraged by the gloomy aspect of the vaulted galleries which she crossed ; she blamed no arrangement, she complained of no fatigue , and unwillingly separated herself from Elodia, to take a few moments of necessary repose. VOL. I. 11 114 THE SOLITARY. As soon as the maid of Underlach was alone, she gave herself up to reflection. The Countess ap. peared beneficent, tender, and generous, and yet she excited in her bosom no sympathetic emotion. There was a noble simplicity in what she said, but what pomp surrounded her ! As she presented the Prince De Palzo to the orphan, how she had enumerated his titles ! Her eyes were gentle and kind, but how proudly affable were her manners ! She had called Elodia her niece ; but even then, what superiority her accent expressed. " Herstall," at length thought the orphan, " here, I feel , I formerly had a father ; I have now only a protectress.' 99 The Countess Imberg was older than Herstall when he died, yet she still preserved some remains of beauty. Admiration had always followed her, wherever she moved ; but in her youth, this sentiment, the only one she had ever inspired , had been the torment of her life ; a woman is not beautiful solely to be admired. Years destroyed her charms, and as she never had commanded love , she wished to subjugate opinion . Her fortune permitted ostentation, and she dazzled men by her magnificence and generosity. Her heart, which had never loved, had 'the leisure and the faculty to study the hearts of others. The soul which is alive to tender feelings, ' sees always through an indistinct medium ; but to the cold and selfish spirit, all is clear and open. Although accustomed to dissemble, the Countess was famed for her sincerity. She appeared constantly endeavouring to conceal her benevolent and magnanimous deeds, and yet, through her art and ad- THE SOLITARY. 115 dress, their slightest details were published by exaggerated recitals. She was capable of performing a good action , provided it attracted the attention ofthe world. Absolute in her will , she seemed habitually making an entire sacrifice of herself to all around. She gloried in a life unstained by a single error ; the arid mind that weighs its actions as its words, calls the heartless void of its bosom, depth, and its coldness, virtue. The Countess, who followed all the vanities ofthe world, spoke of luxury with disdain, but felt resigned , she said, to wear the weighty chains her rank and duty imposed upon her. Ardently seeking an occasion to signalize herself by some striking protection , she felt nowise interested for the being she was to protect. Devoted to the unhappy and unfortunate , she was acquainted with none such ; à despotic mistross, she thundered against tyranny ; ambitious, she boasted of the pleasures of an obscure carcer ; osten . tatiously humble, she ascribed every thing to the aid of Providence, and only put faith in the things of this world. Noble in her manners, graceful in her carriage, and affable in her discourse, she was the idol ofthe many, and the oracle of her adulators. The Prince De Palzo was in the prime of life. He was a general in the service of the Duke of Lorraine ; and although possessing an illustrious name and immense wealth, he murmured against fortune, and complained of her severity ; he was artful and treacherous, and desired the supreme power ; and at once dastardly and daring, he laboured by deep machinations to dethrone his sovereign. 116 THE SOLITARY. Anable conspirator, he possessed the art offlattering the passions of the multitude, by irritating the discontented, fomenting discord, and extending hatred. He was an eloquent orator, and knew the powerful effect of bold images and unrestrained expressions ; to fascinate the eyes of the vulgar, no one could more successfully employ those magic words, independence and liberty. The Prince De Palzo was not remarkable for height nor beauty, but his mien was dignified , and his features regular. To the eye of the keen observer, his contemptuous smile , the sternness of his brow, and the sarcastic irony of his looks, bespoke a haughty man, ambitious of commanding others, and systematically despising them. A brilliant education had passed over him like light on plants, colouring his existence without changing his nature. A sycophant at court, whenever his designs required his entering the gates of a palace, he cared not for his pigmy stature , however low the entrance, provided in emerging he might appear a giant to the vulgar. Licentious and unbridled in his passions , he resembled the pilot who puts to sea during the tempest ; but in political affairs, prudent and dissembling, he raised or calmed the storm as if he could master the elements. Often lavish, but never generous , sometimes benevolent, but never just, he seemed stately and magnificent, and even magnanimous. Some superficial virtues adorned his heart ; so a few flowers may haunt the borders of a stagnant lake . THE SOLITARYITARY. 117 Louis XI. had remarked the Prince De Palzo ; such a man suited his political views . The revolutions of the neighbouring states had constantly enlarged his kingdom ; for, feigning to hasten to the support oftottering thrones, he accomplished their overthrow, and on their subversion arose, and by their destruction grew strong. The capital of Lorraine swarmed with discontented spirits. The partizans of Charles the Bold panted for the gay and splendid court of the Conqueror. A few warriors regretted the man of battles, and some displaced functionaries, their former posts. The passions of the people were fired by the ambitious, and the factious filled them with alarms. Louis XI. , at war with René, and already the master of one of his provinces, kindled the fire of discard in Nancy. Secret negotiations were established between his ministers and the Prince De Palzo, and a vast conspiracy was organized . On the west, the troops of Louis attacked Lorraine ; on the south near Morat Lake, and supported by France, a menacing party of united Lorrainese and other revolters , only waited for a chief to raise the standard of rebellion, and march against the capital. The gold of the traitors had secretly kept in pay whole bodies of the mountaineers. Their chief was chosen ; it was the Prince De Palzo. He came to Helvetia, where he was expected by a number of the conspirators, and the thunderbolt to annihilate René, was to burst from Morat. As soon as the colours of the conspirators should float over the frontiers of Switzerland, the malcontents of Nancy, the enemies of the Duke of Lor11* 118 THE SOLITARY. raine, the enthusiastic partizans of liberty, and the former admirers of Charles the Bold, were to flock to the centre of revolt. Louis XI. was to hasten to meet them at Epinal, where his whole army should be assembled. The Duke of Lorraine was to be surrounded on all sides, and the agents of the king of France gave the Prince De Palzo the expectation of the sovereignty of a province. The departure of the Countess Imberg for the abbey of Underlach, greatly assisted the designs of this insurgent chief. Under pretence of accompanying a friend, he left the court of Lorraine, and started for Morat ; from the monastery, where he seemed buried, the perfidious traitor armed the rebels. All his plans were arranged, the Countess Imberg was acquainted with them, and the momentous plot was nearly ready

• for execution.

What a change it created at the monastery ! Numerous servants peopled the formerly deserted courts. Armorial banners floated over the turrets, and all the entrances of the ancient edifice were guarded by soldiers. Young pages trained fiery coursers ; horns, fifes and tymbals sounded at every hour of the day. Drums beat, and trumpets gave the alarm ; an escort catended the prince, while reviewing his soldiers , exercising them in arms ; constantly engaged in mustering and haranguing them , every thing was motion, agitation, and tumult at the abbey, and the pacific cloister had become a citadel of war. and The timid maid of Underlach could not understand the new scenes which struck her eyes ; what mean the nocturnal meetings which she has remarked, since THE SOLITARY. 119 the arrival ofthe prince ? why these preparations for battle ? whose are those numerous voices, so often resounding at night under the subterraneous vaults of the monastery ? whence comes this quantity of arms so secretly amassed in the lower halls of the principal tower ? why those mysterious sorties of the prince at all hours of the night ? what despatches are those he so frequently receives ? where go those couriers expedited on all the roads ? what mean the disguises of his emissaries ? The trembling Elodia felt dire presentiments on contemplating these things. The Prince De Palzo could not see the orphan without admiring her ; he could not know her without wishing to possess her, and his passion was openly declared. Irritated at his presumptuous hopes, and terrified by his bold language , the daughter of SaintMaur took refuge near the Countess , and dared not to leave her for an instant. How dreadful was the situation of Elodia ! The prince had forbidden Anselmo to enter the monastery, for he feared the influence of his counsels ; she dared not to cross the barriers of the abbey, as they were guarded by the minions of Palzo. The prince continually followed her ; his passions were under no restraint, and the unfortunate captive was in the power of a perverse and daring man, wholly unchecked by considerations of honour, justice , or virtue . The orphan had no hope but in her protectress ; but the Countess was devoted to the enterprizing general, whose brows seemed to her, already encircled with a diadem. The prince explained his sentiments for Elodia, and asked the hand of her adopted niece. 120 THE SOLITARY. This niece will then, perhaps, at some future day be an empress ! Could the Countess hesitate an instant to gratify the wishes of Palzo ? Flattered by the generous offers of the prince, who, allured by love, deigned to forget the disproportion of the alliance, the Countess at once engaged that the orphan should be his wife ; and her orders were given that the desired marriage might be celebrated as quickly as possible. Firm in her resolutions, and imperious in her will, but veiling her secret thoughts under an impassive exterior, the Countess sent for her niece. Never had her voice sounded sweeter ; never had her smile seemed more gracious ; never had her manners been more tender and kind, than at that moment. After a stately enumeration of the titles and possessions of the Prince De Palzo , a circumstantial account of the heroic actions of his life , and along eulogy on his virtues and benevolence, the Countess informed her of the flattering proposals he had deigned to make. With her usual eloquence, she exaggerated the brilliant advantages of the projected union ; she painted with enthusiasm the passionate love of the prince ; and the perfect persuasion that Elodia would be happy, seemed the only sentiment that decided her in the warrior's favour. " My lovely child," said she, in concluding her discourse, " accompany the Prince De Palzo to the altar, and love, honours, fortune, and glory, will forever surround you. How I bless the kind Providence that sent me hither, thus to secure the happiness of a destitute orphan ! Powerful by your wealth, you will fill every cottage of THE SOLITARY. 121 Underlach with plenty and pleasure ; powerful by your rank, you will be the pride and the support of your family ; powerful by your charms, you will be the ornament ofthe court of Lorraine ; and, powerful by your virtues, you may restore to it the purer manners of our ancestors. Oh ! my dear Elodia ! who knows but that Heaven may call the hero who adores you to a higher destiny, and prepare for you a regal crown ! " Notwithstanding this artful display, the Countess Imberg had not moved the heart of the orphan ; no persuasions enticed her ; she was dazzled by no offers. She, who once had the courage to withstand the pure and generous love, and the touching entreaties of the handsome and magnanimous Egbert, could she be seduced by the pompous enumeration of the titles and wealth of this aspiring lover ! Calm without sternness, and firm without effrontery, the daughter of Saint- Maur arose with dignity, and thus answered the Countess : " I know not, my lady, what fate I am reserved for, but a crown is by no means my de sire ; I cannot, in my mind, reconcile splendour with happiness. I have been educated in obscurity, and do not think I am destined for the higher vanities of the earth ; the veil of the cloister would suit me better than a kingly diadem. I will not quit the mountains of Helvetia ; the last will of my mother should be a law to me. Allow me, then, to refuse the glorious union you propose. Gratitude is the only sentiment the Prince De Palzo can expect from Elodia . " She spoke, and left the room. The Countess Imberg, confounded with surprise , vainly sought to de- 122 THE SOLITARY. tain her. But nothing could change the resolution of the friend of the Prince De Palzo ; too artful to allow her anger to appear, she was careful not to irritate a spirit, whose energy she now for the first time per. ceived. The Countess had conquered firmer hearts, and she determined that the trial of gentleness should precede the assay of force ; and that pleasures, galas and homage, and the seductions of love and flattery, should jointly assail the orphan. Perfidy, alas ! has a vast array of arms offensive and defensive ; innocence has none but her own strength. At the hour of repast, Elodia joined the Countess Imberg ; she expected to meet anger, reproaches, and indignation ; but, unshaken in her resolves, she intended to brave the storm , and under a serene brow, concealed her grief and agitation . The Countess welcomed the Maid of Underlach with a fascinating smile, and her caressing glances tenderly sought to rest on those of Elodia. No reproach, no complaint, fell from her lips . She seemed only distressed and fearful at the idea of having afflicted her youngfriend . Her expressions were those of a mother uneasy about the destiny of her daughter, and solely intent on her happiness. The Prince De Palzo as tender, but more respectful than formerly, no longer addressed Elodia with that impatient confi dence unknown to true love. His attentions and language were conciliating, delicate , and reserved. The timid orphan no longer dreaded his presence, and often, gratefully, turned her eyes to her protectress. It was night, and the daughter of Saint-Maur, retired in her cell, and seated beside the window, felt no THE SOLITARY. 123 inclination for repose. She began to reflect on the past ; she recalled the idea of Herstall, and her tears flowed apace. Formerly, there was none but he with her in the monastery, and the monastery then seemed filled with beings dear to her. Now, this antique edifice was crowded with a numerous people, and to her it was all a desert. Her thoughts wandered to the summits of the distant mountains-there dwelt her whole soul. To her the wild rocks of Morat Lake were charming as if enchanted by wizard spell. To fill the universe with vivifying beauty, and to gaze on nature through a magic prism, what does a human being require ? A heart which responds to its own. Only the callous and insensible are truly isolated ; only the forgotten and neglected are really exiled. The hours fly. -Suddenly from an overhanging rock Elodia sees an unusual light arise. It shone for a moment and sunk ; on the summit of the opposite mountain a similar flame burned and disappeared ; they were answering signals. Along the winding path that descended to the bridge of the torrent, she perceived a troop ofarmed mountaineers hastily plunging into the gloom of the forest. Why were these meetings under the shade of night ?-what chief assembled these undisciplined hordes ? The alarmed orphan could not sleep, but leaning against the bars of her window, continued observing the strange movements over the heights ofthe valley, and the nocturnal signals which were repeated from distance to distance aroundthe monastery . Scarcely had dawn appeared, when a tumultuous sound of voices, arms , and horses, 124 THE SOLITARY. struck Elodia's ear. Were new strangers to arrive at the priory ?-were these, couriers the Prince was receiving or despatching ?-was the country menaced by dangers ? The orphan softly opened the door of her cell, crossed lightly the principal corridor of the cloister, and from a high window on the southern front, cast an inquiring glance over the great court of the abbey. Armed from head to foot, the Prince De Palzo was mounting his charger, dressed in a violet-coloured mantle, his coat of mail and his cuirass of polished steel. He laid aside the white crest of his black casque ; no scarf was around his waist, and no decorations were on his breast. He lowered his vizor, and dark as an autumn midnight, darted from the gate ofthe monastery, in company with some warriors as mysterious as their chief. What could Elodia conjecture at the extraordinary conduct of Palzo ! Doubtless some vast enterprize occupied the mind of that Prince. But designs carried on in darkness must be criminal.-Those nightly excursions, those disguises , those signals , those meetings , and those correspondences , denoted horrid intrigues, and covert machinations, A storm was ga thering, and it was to rise from Underlach ; but where, or on whose heads might not its dark fury burst ? Should the monastery be the centre of rebellion, the thunderbolt may strike the monastery. Heavenly vengeance will exterminate the perfidious traitors, but the valley may become the theatre of battles - and carnage ; and where will be the refuge then of the gentle maid of Underlach ! Such were the sinister THE SOLITARY. 125 thoughts that terrified her mind. She could not consult Anselmo ; he had been forbidden to enter the abbey, and she was a prisoner herself. Alone, unguided and unsustained , what course should she pursue, to what power could she recur ! " Should I light the beacon lantern on the tower !" said the orphan to berself; " should I call the Solitary ! but what could he do ? ... The Prince's guards interdict the entrance ofthe cloister to all strangers. A rash warrior and despairing lover, the man ofthe Wild Mountain might be able to force his way, and combat the soldiers of Palzo to snatch Elodia from them..... But ah ! he might be overcome by numbers , and I should have caused his death." That dreadful idea arrested her. "I will wait ; " said she, " perhaps I give way to chimerical fears ; the Countess Imberg treats me as her daughter, the Prince has changed his manners, no pressing dangers threaten, and I will not expose the life of the Solitary. It was long since Elodia had descended to the gardens, so fearful was she of a rencounter with Palzo. Now the dawn was fair, and the Prince was far from the valley the orphan hastened to the pavilion which had witnessed the sports of her infancy, and in cheerful remembrance of the past, sought a momentary forgetfulness ofthe present. The pavilion might be seen from the fields of Underlach. At a distance , Marceline saw the daughter of Saint- Maur, and ran to meet her if possible ; the gate ofthe park was open, and Marceline was already beside Elodia. VOL. I. 12 126 THE SOLITARY. " At length do I see you again ! " cried the enthusiastic sybil of the hamlet ; " how many events have past in our isolated canton since a very few days ! A prophetic voice has arisen from the Kedron of our valley ; the monastery was once our Zion ; but crime is now in the sanctuary, and wo to the temple ! " " What do you say ? oh heaven ! " exclaimed the terrified girl. 115 " Fair dove the bird of prey skims above thy head, and spreads his ensanguined talons ... Fly ! if there be still time ! "- " Whither ?" - " To the mountain ; there thou shalt find shelter in our huts. ”— "Who will protect me ?"--" Heaven : thou hast none other aid remaining . Clouds veil the star ofthe mountain ; the shipwrecked have no longer a port, and no Gideon awes the Philistines. " The Solitary has then left the neighbourhood ! ” —“ Ever since he saved Conrad. Daughter of Saint- Maur, a vast conspiracy has been organized in this very place . The caves of the forest ring with the accents of rebellion. I have seen, I have hearkened, I have heard ; the mountaineers, misled, have taken up arms ; Lorraine is threatened ; France keeps the revolters in pay ; the Prince De Palzo is a traitor, and the valley of Underlach a den of the conspirators. . . . But we may be observed, and I leave you ... Oh ! sleep not on the edge of the precipice !" END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. THE SOLITARY ; OR, The Mysterious Man of the Mountain. TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF VISCOUNT D'ARLINCOURT, BY AN AMERICAN LADY. TWO VOLUMES IN ONE. VOL. II. NEW- YORK: PUBLISHED BY HENRY DURELL, PEARL-STREET. C. S. Van Winkle, Printer. ............ 1822.

THE LITARY. CHAPTER I. LIKE a proud giant the star of day appeared on the horizon ; urging his fiery coursers, he shed floods of vivifying light from clouds of gold and purple. Then the sound ofloud and warlike music resounded through the monastery. Elodia arose , and looking towards the park, perceived preparations for a brilliant gala. As if by the wand of Armida, triumphal arches arose in the garden. On the mossy turf, was an amphitheatre ofgreen, above which were wreathed crowns of laurel and garlands of roses. Here was a temple dedicated to beauty ; there a grotto, consecrated to love ; a little farther was a rural saloon for dancing, surrounded by seats for a numerous orchestra ; and on every side , the young maid of Underlach's favourite colour was displayed, and her cypher interwoven. From her window Elodia gazed with surprise on these magnificent preparations. In every direction she beheld fanciful buildings, picturesque paintings, and enchanting decorations. Just at the moment a T 12* 130 THE SOLITARY. troop of young knights advanced towards the turret. Their armour was white, and they bore on their azure shields the name of Elodia in letters ofgold , and surmounted by the unfading amaranth. Each wore a blue scarf;-a riband of that colour always adorned the waist of Elodia. They stopped at the old wall, and with loud voices, accompanied by warlike instruments, sung this song : Awake ! thou virgin of the vale, To notes that sons of victory raise ; — For beauty's advent step to hail , Will glory shed his brightest rays. Nothunder peals shall war above Thy course, that dawns so heavenly fair ; Thy brow was made a crown to bear, Thy heart was formed to cherish love ! Wherefore does this resistless chief, Thus burry to the embattled plain ? Why toils he for the laurel leaf ? That he may beauty's smiles obtain. Prepare o'er happier scenes to rove, Pure flowret! daughter of the skies ! Answer ! ....for glory's bold emprise, Give in return, one word of love. The door ofthe cell opened, and the Countess Imberg extended her arms to embrace the orphan.— " Come! dear daughter !" said she, come ! All in the valley and monastery celebrate the anniversary of your birth. If the mountaineers show their gratitude to-day, how much more should I ? This happy day gave them a benefactress only ; but to me, has it not given a daughter !" THE SOLITARY. 131 Moved bythe soothing tones ofher voice, grateful for her flattering attentions and tender language , the daughter of Saint-Maur pressed her protectress to her bosom, and for a few moments a sweet illusion almost persuaded her that in truth she had found a mother. The Countess gently drew her along. At the foot of the great gallery of the monastery, under a starry canopy, was an elevated dais surrounded by armorial trophies. Led by her benefactress, the orphan ascended the steps of this throne, and there, standing motionless with surprise, she seemed like Galathea opening her eyes on the pedestal of love. Suddenly the Prince De Palzo appeared, his armour sparkling with gold and precious stones, and attended by a brilliant suite of knights, squires , and pages. Their scarfs , banners , and crests, were blue. As they advanced to the orphan of the abbey, they lowered lances, swords, and bucklers. De Palzo himself, on one knee , laid his feet, while the songs of the warriors repeated this chorus : No thunder peals shall war above The Prince sword at her Thy course, that dawns so heavenly fair ; Thy brow was made a crown to bear, Thy heart was formed to cherish love ! Then the shepherds, the mountaineers, and young peasant girls of Underlach, were seen at the end of the gallery. They were clothed in white and adorned with blue ribands ; they brought the offerings of the hamlet, and covered the steps ofthe throne with their baskets of flowers and fruits. Their features 132 THE SOLITARY. were animated with joy ; and the maiden of the monastery melted into tears, while the village choir and the martial music repeated, in part, the second chorus of the warrior's song : Daughter of Heaven ! thou early flower ! Prepare o'er brighter scenes to rove ; Ob, answer! in this happy hourThe valley asks one word of love. Pla- But what new surprises awaited the orphan ! ced in a car, shaped like a marine shell, and above which was a blue canopy, Elodia was drawn by the mountaineers and young girls to the amphitheatre erected on the green sward. The knights, squires, and pages, formed a gallant array around the young nymph, and martial music preceded their triumphal procession. Less beautiful was Cytherea, when under the bowers of Amathonta, drawn by Tritons, escorted byNereids, and surrounded by Loves, she presided over the games of Mars. The empress of the valley was seated in a gilded balcony. What a spectacle struck her eyes ! Avast circus was before her ; the barriers were opened, and the exhilirating and animating cry of the tourney rung through the air ; war for heroes !" " love to ladies !" 66 Knights in complete armour rushed to the combat, their visors down, and their lances in the rest. Their strength, their grace, and their agility, charmed the maid of Underlach. Their shields resounded with redoubled strokes, and their formidable swords flashed fire . All bore the same device, " Love and Glory." THE SOLITARY. 133 . Below the balcony, the heroes of the tourney, mounted on their noble coursers, waved their floating standards , and bowed their valorous brows at the feet of beauty. The delighted queen of the tournament smiled on the triumphant knights. As if accustomed to preside over similar sports, she distributed the prizes to successful courage in the most gracious manner, unbinding with her white hands the helmets of the conquerors, and placing the laurel wreaths upon their heads. The daughter of Saint Maur had never appeared so animated and so beautiful. The enthusiasm with which she was inspired by those martial exercises and chivalric games , was expressed in her countenance, and shed new lustre over her enchanting features. The transports her beauty excited, the almost divine homage which was rendered to her, the exclamations of valour and glory, the lovely sky, the charming bowers, the inspiring music, the wonders of art in the midst of the wonders of nature-all united to transfuse into the heart of Elodia, the intoxication of pleasure. A luxurious banquet was spread for the heroes of the day, under a tent raised in the midst of bowers. Stands of arms were arranged as pillars to sustain a cloth ofgold, stretched across the verdant foliage, and festooned by blue cords and garlands of flowers. Every charm, every enchantment, surrounded the orphan. The repast was finished towards evening, and Elodia left the tent. Could she believe her eyes ! Splendid lights succeeded to the last rays of day. All the bowers were illuminated. Fires of a thousand hues scintillated among the verdure. Like a fla- 134 THE SOLITARY. ming globe, the monastery proudly towered above the resplendent stars scattered through the gardens . The peaceful stream that crossed the park, reflecting those dazzling lustres, seemed rolling to its mossy banks , a chrystal sheet, sparkling with azure and silver, and pearls and diamonds . All the dreams of the east, all the miracles of fairy land, all the prodigies of fable, seemed realized to Elodia. On every side resounded joyous songs, and the merry dances began. Every tree had its divinity, every arbour its hamadryad. The Countess , for a moment, left the orphan. The Prince De Palzo took advantage of the agitation , the surprise, and the delight of the young guest of the Valley, to hurry her to a distant bower, where arose the temple of Hymen, surrounded by a group of sylphs. He threw himself at her feet ; " Adorable girl, " exclaimed he, 66 open this temple to me !" Elodia raised her eyes to the illuminated edifice before her. A divine melody floated in the air. It seemed that celestial instruments had descended from the skies, and that seraphs touched immortal harps. 45 Approach ! approach ! young deity ! Let nothing startle thee ; Beauteous splendours round thee shine ; But they cannot rival thine ! Art in vain essays, Idalium here anew to raise ; Thou dost surpass the wondrous show, For, Love is sole enchanter now. Cythera's second lovely queen, O'er mortals stretch thy reign ! THE SOLITARY. 135 Let Nature all before thee bow.... The fairest of her works art thou ! To victory's temple rise ! Unveil at length thy heart's disguise ; Glory to thee shall thrones reveal, And thou the bliss of love shalt feel. The song ceased. The door of the temple opened, and the radiant splendours of the precincts dazzled the orphan. The restless lustre of the temple seemed like the lightnings of the palace of meteors promised to the daughters of Fingal. At the extremity of the sanctuary, shone the altar of Hymen supported by clouds of azure and purple ; around it burned incense and aromatic woods in golden cassolets. Forth, from the fragrant smoke, emerged a crowd of little loves ; shaking their sparkling torches, they flew toward the new Hebe ; they presented her the cup of ambrosia, and investing her with the zone of Flora, gently endeavoured to draw her to the entrance of this Olympus, from whence exhaled all the perfumes of Arabia. The Prince De Palzo remained at the feet of Elodia, and something more eloquent than language spoke in his looks. The orphan believed herself deceived by a dream, and endeavoured to recall her wandering thoughts. Led away in spite of herself by the seductions which surrounded her, she was at the foot of the steps of the temple, and the Prince De Palzo led her in triumph. The altar of Hymen caught the attention of the orphan. The cyphers of Elodia and Palzo shone interwoven above it in characters of light. What sudden thought struck her 136 THE SOLITARY. mind! Toascend to the temple, wereto give a tacit consent to the wishes of the prince ! -to approach the altar were to almost engage her faith ! -She stopped. ... The enchantment vanished ; a cold chill seized her ; she repulsed the young loves, who were drawing her towards the deceitful palace ; she disengaged herself from the flowery chains which held her and drew back affrighted to the other end of the bower. The prince hastened after her ; he wished her to return to the temple ; the tenderest supplications of love were on his lips , when a warrior armed cap-apie presented himself to their sight ; he gave De Palzo a sealed billet, saluted him silently, and disappeared . Furious at this unexpected interruption the prince seized the letter, and shuddered at sight of the seal ; he tore the envelope , ran over the despatch , and turned pale. Taking advantage of so favourable an opportunity, the daughter of Saint- Maur glided from the bower ; she sought every where for the Countess, and having found her, concealed from her the extreme agitation of her spirits, and congratulated her. self on having escaped from the perfidious and seducing dangers of the evening. The prince soon rejoined the orphan. Accustomed to dissemble the emotions of his soul, he carefully avoided betraying the secret chagrin which bygnawed the hasty uponmessage his hearthe. He.seemed nowise affected received ; his countenance showed no trace of disquiet or agitation , and • THE SOLITARY. 137 near the Maiden of Underlach, his assiduous attentions , his language, and his love, were unchanged. But all was changed to Elodia. Her delusion was dissipated. The prism had lost its hues, and the garden its wonders ; all was disenchanted around her. The projects of the prince were unveiled , and she knew the purpose intended by those magic illusions. She complained of excessive fatigue ; no songs nor dances had power to charm her ; no picture delighted her eyes ; she was perfectly regardless , and her voice sad and languid. She impatiently waited for the end of those pleasures, which she began to feel insupportable, and at length retired, happy in escaping from the homage which she determined should never again intoxicate her. At noon the next day, the daughter of Saint- Maur descended to the saloon of the abbey. The Countess Imberg desired to converse with her alone. Elodia foresaw the intention of the interview ; it presaged some new persecution ; and concentrating all the strength of her soul, she determined to struggle with firmness against the storm which menaced her. The Countess, as usual, opened her arms to her niece, and having made her sit beside her, addressed her in the tenderest accents. Entrusted by Providence with the care of the Orphan of Underlach, I came to these mountains to fulfil the duty imposed ; but, in place of a task, I have met with the purest enjoyment. Dearest Elodia ! heaven refused me a child, but I feel to my very heart that it has now granted my prayer. I have obtained, I possess a daughter, and I would be her Vol. II. 13 138 THE SOLITARY. mother entirely. You know that my fortune is large, that fortune shall be yours ; it is for you that I intend that wealth ; and I shall receive the more precious gift, if my adopted daughter grant me her heart in exchange. " Affected by this discourse, the confiding Elodia secretly reproached herself for her prejudices against her, whose affection and generosity never for a moment failed . She was just going to express her gratitude, when her benefactress thus continued. 66' My beloved girl ! my duty now obliges me to insure you a protector, and to fix your rank in the world before my own career be finished. The Prince De Palzo adores you. I will not speak to you of his illustrious birth nor immense wealth, tbe soul of my Elodia is above such mistaken greatness. From the height, where her virtues have placed her, she sees the dignities of the earth dwindle into mere vanities ! It is not then the power of Palzo, nor the splendour of his glory, but his soul which I have studied ; it is his passionate attachment and his noble sentiments that determined my choice in his favour. Amiable Orphan! his love for your charms is extatic, his admiration for your virtues idolatrous. What princess was ever the object of more splendid galas ! What beauty ever received more dazzling homage ? Undoubtedly the sensibility of my Elodia's heart renders justice to the magnanimous warrior who asks to lead her to the altar. The greatest hero of Lorraine is the only one worthy of the most beautifu} maiden of Switzerland. ” THE SOLITARY. 139 The Countess might have continued still longer the elogium of the Prince De Palzo. Softened by her caresses, penetrated with a sense of obligation for her goodness, but distressed beyond measure at her inflexible obstinacy on so painful a subject, the daughter of Saint -Maur would have allowed her to continue uninterrupted ; but fearing that too long a silence would seem a tacit approval, she at length replied : " Oh my mother! since you deign to grant me that title, how shall I express to you my tenderness and gratitude ! Your goodness has surpassed every hope of the orphan ; never shall it leave her memory ; but alas ! will you forgive her refusals ? ... What the lamented Herstall has left me is sufficient for all my wants ; I desire no more. The wealth of the Countess Imberg would possess no value in my estimation', had I accepted it, except that of being the gift of friendship and the present of a mother. As for the Prince de Palzo, I am but young, I have hardly had time to become acquainted with him, I cannot return his affection ; my heart which cannot love him is incapable of deceiving him, and I feel unworthy of an alliance which would elevate me to too high a rank. " Dissembling her vexation and rage, the Countess appeared no wise offended with this answer. " Charming Elodia," said she, " far from me bethe thoughtto force your sentiments or constrain your will. Anticipating the desires you have just expressed, I had resolved to retard this projected union, till time had enlightened your mind, and the constancy of the Prince touched your heart. The longer you would have known Palzo, the better you would have appre- 140 THE SOLITARY. ciated him, and love alone would have led you to consent. But any farther postponement is impossible ; for the Prince can no longer abide in the monastery ; it is time to reveal to you his secret designs. Palzo, the friend of the King of France, seconded by all the northern courts, is ready, at the head of a warlike army, to invade Lorraine, and force his way to the throne. Louis XI. will fight in person with him, and for him. I dare not explain myself farther on this subject ; I can only say, that yesterday during the entertainment, he received an important despatch, by which he learns, that his enemies begin to raise the veil which covers his vast enterprize ; that it is time to execute his grand designs, to strike a terrible blow, and secure undoubted success ; delay may be fatal, and a crown awaits the conqueror. The Prince has therefore not a moment to lose ; he must quit Helvetia, he must fly where glory calls ; but an enamoured lover as well as intrepid hero, Palzo will not seek the field of victory till decked with the title of your husband." Her perfidious language and artful disclosures produced an unexpected effect on the orphan. The daughter ofSaint-Maur addressed the Countess in these energetic words.. "My resolution is taken. A legitimate crown would not have dazzled me, a throne usurped fills me with horror : The dark route of con. spiracy is not the road to glory, and the chief of a rebellion shall never be the husband of Elodia." This resolution was pronounced with a dignified air; the Countess still commanded her feelings . Her THE SOLITARY. 141. brow only became severe, and her voice more solemn. " Orphan of Underlach !" said she, " the resolves of a child should be no obstacles to the wishes of a mother. Since words of tenderness and persuasion have no control over you , since neither the influence of kindness nor the intercessions of maternal love can shake your opposition, I owe to the memory of Herstall, I owe to my own personal dignity, and to heaven which confided you to my charge, the inflexible decree I now pronounce. Before Aurora has thrice visited the horizon, the Prince de Palzo shall be your husband." Without waiting for an answer, the Countess rose, threw a look of indignation and disdain on the orphan, and retired to her apartments. The orders of the Countess were executed immediately. The marriage of Elodia and Palzo was solemnly announced. Rich tissue and brocade covered the walls of the ancient chapel. The altar, loaded with numerous offerings , was decked with magnificent candelabras. Brilliant vases and sumptuous carpets decorated the sacred precincts. From all parts they hastened to prepare for the nuptial ceremony. The decree of the Countess was irrevocable, and the fate of the orphan was irreclaimably fixed. There was no means of softening the Countess. Wholly in the power of the ty-. rants who watched her, the unfortunate captive marked, appalled, that the fatal hour approached. What shall she do in so desperate a conjuncture ! ... she will light the beacon lantern on the tower ! Who 13* 142 THE SOLITARY. can assist her , if not the man of wonders ! Who ean save her, if not the Solitary ! .... Night covered the celestial vault with her starry mantle. The mountaineers who had been busy at arranging the odious preparations in the chapel , had long left their labour. Sleep had sealed the eyes of the inhabitants of the monastery. With a light foot the maid of Underlach crossed the great corridor of the abbey, and with a lamp in her hand, ascended the staircase of the principal tower. She was still on the steps when a confused noise reached her ear. Several warriors were descending from the upper donjon- keep. They were giving the orders of their master to some mountaineers, who were secret messengers of the rebels. Elodia feared to encounter them ; near her was a low door opening on a staircase ; she passed through it and took refuge in a narrow and dark gallery communicating with the opposite tower. The warriors walked hastily. They spoke in a low tone to the mountaineers, and were themselves disguised as Swiss villagers. " Yes !" said one of them, " by break of day they must be ready on the Terrific Peak. " " On the Terrific Peak !" repeated a peasant with horror. "Will your brave companions fear the Bleeding Phantom ?" cried an officer with contemptuous accents ; " then let them retire from the ranks ; our Prince wants no soldiers who are intimidated by shadows. " " But the Bleeding Phantom !" " Enough ! silence ! The Prince has fixed the place of the gathering. He commands .... obey !" The mountaineer still murmured ... but the 1 THE SOLITARY. 143 voices were lost in the distance. The warriors had reached the foot of the tower, the noise of their heavy tread was no longer heard.... With caution she left her obscure retreat, and pursued her way without any interruption. of war. " Why is this new gathering of rebels ;" thought Elodia, " is the storm ready to burst ? But it is only the day after to-morrow that Palzo intends to lead me to the altar. Assuredly he has chosen me for the first victim, and the funereal flambeau of my marriage must be lit, before they kindle the ensanguinedtorches I haste ! the beacon shall blaze." She spoke ; and like another Hero, standing on the platform of the tower at the foot of the lantern, called for a Leander. At once the bright signal flamed through the obscurity of night. The sky was clear, the air was calm, the stars twinkled in the firmament ; a light breeze blew aside the veil of Elodia. Kneeling by the protecting pharos, and gazing intently on the mountains of Morat Lake, the maid of Underlach exclaimed with a plaintive voice, " Solitary ! Elodia calls thee. " And accustomed to the omnipresence of the man ofthe Wild Mountain, she listened , half persuaded that the nocturnal breeze would waft her some response. Like a shade of one of the blest, the trate Elodia remained for a moment motionless transparent veil gave an aërial effect to her celestial form. She appeared on the tower like some unknown and silent star ; or rather, forlorn and pallid, by the light ofthe beacon, she seemed like fleeting and visionary hope, a single cloud reflecting one ray of heaven.

prosher 144 THE SOLITARY. The mistress of Erebus and the mother of Dreams had finished the half of her dusky course , when Elodia, quitting the platform of the tower, silently descended to her cell. She courted repose, but her efforts were vain ; sleep fled from her eye-lids , for the companions of her feverish pillow, were grief, disquietude, wakefulness, and fear. Dawn began to silver the east. The orphan, languid and exhausted, could scarcely command her agi, tated spirits ; she arose-prayer is the only resource of the wretched. Before the dawn aroused the inhabitants of the monastery, Elodia hastened to the chapel. There her heart always found consolation, no matter what might have been her previous distresses. A healing balm to the wounds of the beart, prayer is the sacred tie between earth and heaven ; by it, from immortal abodes , the breath divine of the great Unknown may descend upon man. Five times the clock of the abbey had struck the hours of the night, since Elodia had left the beacon lantern of the tower. From the holy altar she repaired to the silent vault where reposed the mortal remains of her mother. Sepulchral lamps burned there night and day ; their faint glimmer was all that enlightened the funereal monument. Leaning against the marble, the maiden of Underlach raised her thoughts to that divine home of bliss and peace whence her sainted mother perhaps at that moment was contemplating her. A slight noise attracted her attention. In the corner of the vault, a subterranean door, till then unperceived by the orphan, was open- THE SOLITARY. 145 ed, and the man of the Wild Mountain stood before her. He was armed from head to foot. A brazen helmet shaded by black plumes covered his martial brow, once doubtless accustomed to the laurel . A polished sword was in his hand, a coat of mail invested his manly form, a black sash served him as a scarf. A terrible assailant, he seemed prepared for vengeance, like Pyrrhus at the mausoleum of Achilles, like Orestes in the palace of Ægisthus, like Arsaces by the grave ofNinus. The daughter of Saint- Maur could not contain her surprise and joy ; she exclaimed as she sprang towards him, “ Are you there ? then Heaven protects Elodia, for my prayer is already granted ! " Confused at this first movement, she cast down her eyes and blushed. " Elodia called me," said the Solitary ; " what command does she give me ?" His mien was gravé and severe, his voice was sorrowful, his countenance gloomy, his language stern and cold. The intimidated girl looked at him with surprise. What a change his features had undergone ! Mournful and dejected, the Solitary seemed to bear life as a burden, which he deeply felt could only be shaken off by a violent effort ofdesperate resolution . His words were quick and brief. His pale and ireful countenance apparently expressed the fierceness ofdistraction, and yet near Elodia, something tender and submissive penetrated through his menacing aspect. " What commands do I give you ?" repeated Elo- 146 THE SOLITARY. dia, in the gentlest manner ; " have I the right to command you ?" " Speak !" replied he of the Wild Mountain, " whether you have or have not the right to comFor you have I I resumed these mand me, I am ready to obey you. broken all my oaths, for you have warlike accoutrements, which I had sworn never again to wear ; for you, I have drawn from the sheath the sword I had with horror rejected forever ; and for you, I feel this heart beat which I once vowed should ever remain cold and insensible . " In uttering these words, the voice of the Solitary had gradually lost its harshness. " Elodia, " continued he, " answer me, why have you called me ?" " This chapel," said the orphan " is decorated for the mar riage of Elodia and Palzo, and you ask me why I call you !" At this answer the excited warrior shook his sword in a transport of rage ; his features were distorted by a malignant expression, and he furiously exclaimed, " still blood ! has not this steel yet drank enough ! Lead me to Palzo !" " Oh Heaven ! ” cried the terrified maiden, " what would you do." Trembling, weeping, and endeavouring to detain him, she seized his hand and pressed it between hers. The magic contact thrilled through the frame of the incomprehensible man . . . . at once it changed all his being. He carried involuntarily to his lips the adored hand. The fire which ran through his veins was no longer that of rage, and the lion of the forest had lost his ferocity. ... " Forgive me !" replied he with calmness . At THE SOLITARY. 147 66 the name of Palzo, at the name of that presumptuous wretch , who dared to aspire to your hand, I felt an emotion of rage and indignation , which I could not repress. Be not alarmed. The perfidious villain shall be struck, but he falls not by my hand ; the traitor shall perish, but you will not witness his punishment ! Dear Elodia!" continued he, even before the light of the beacon reached me, I had prepared every thing to relieve you from the power of your tyrants ; I watched over your destiny, I had foreseen the stroke which menaced you ; Palzo shall never be your husband. " " And who then shall put aside this dreaded marriage ?" cried the daughter of SaintMaur. " " I ," answered he. " Oh, " said she, " do not expose your life ! " —" No blood shall be spilt, I shall not leave the mountain. "- " And who then shall save me?” —“ Tbose whom the Solitary shall send. " " And you promise, " repeated Elodia, " you swear not to risk your life." The sweet voice of the orphan, the lively interest she betrayed, and her tender entreaties, deeply affected the Solitary ; he endea voured to dissemble his agitation ; scarcely daring to turn his eyes towards her, he hastily spoke thus : " By a subterraneous passage, known only to myself, and by this secret vault, I was certain of introducing myselfint othe monastery ; I came armed, lest I should be taken by surprise ; a presentiment whispered to me that I should succeed in my attempt to reach you . Certain of the cause of your fears , I came to dissipate them. Again I assure you that you need not fear a marriage which shall never be accomplished. I have fulfilled my promises. You have im- 148 THE SOLITARY. plored my aid, you shall be assisted ; you have confided in me, and you shall be saved. " He was bastily departing bythe secret door of the vault, when Elodia exclaimed, " why this haste ?" The Solitary returned. "You repulsed me formerly," said he, " why would you detain me now ? .... Oh you, whose image I bear with me always, as the rushing wind impels the clouds and tempests, will you not pity me ?" Then no longer master ofhis feelings, he threw himself at her feet. " What have I said, thou pity me ! No, thou art right, I am not worthy of thy pity ; close thy ears to my plaints ; I adore thee ! alas, my love is the only virtue I have saved from the wreck ! Angelic beauty ! can the gentle pressure of thy hand efface the stains of crime ! . . . . Thy presence seems to purify the air I inhale, but can thy aspect absolve me ? Absent from thee, like a wretch blotted from the book of life , I wander in darkness and implore annihilation. Elodia, thou weepest, I see it ! . . my sorrows touch theemy incomprehensible fate interests thee-thou canst no longer repulse me ! ... Finish thy work, oh ! justify me bythy love, and Heaven will pardon me ! love, and I shall be saved. " " You shall be loved," replied Elodia, softened and subdued. " Then, " exclaimed he ardently, " then swear to be none other's than mine." " On this tomb !" faintly screamed the affrighted girl. " What matters it where ?" said the Solitary, with vehemence , “ death is as sacred as life, and I am a man oftombs." The maiden of Underlach yielded to the irresistible ascendant ofthe warrior ; as if it were a Hymeneal altar, she raised her hand above the cinerary urn, THE SOLITARY. 149 9 and beneath the sepulchral roof, by the gleam of the lamps, with a solemn voice, she proffered this oath, "I swear to be only thine. " " And I," exclaimed the Solitary, " will have no bride but Elodia ; yes ! Elodia or death ! bliss or despair!" The great bell of the abbey tolled suddenly its heavy clang. It struck to the heart of Elodia like a dying groan ; her blood stopped in her veins ; a cold sweat bathed her forehead. Her head sunk upon the breast of the Solitary. " Oh Heavens," she exclaimed distractedly, " what dreadful voice pronounced our nuptial benediction ?” The long and repeated strokes of the bell recalled the orphan to herself. It was the hour of the first prayers, and every morning at sunrise, the same sounds awoke the valley. "We must part; " said Elodia. And casting on the Solitary a look of mingled love, sadness and regret, she sprang from the vault, closed the door, and left the chapel. VOL. II. 14 150 THE SOLITARY. CHAPTER II . By the first ray of dawn, the Prince de Palzo , followed by a numerous escort, set out for the Terrific Peak, where the rebels were to be assembled . His countenance expressed uneasiness and care ; his words were brief, and his looks impatient. The decisive day approached , and whatever firmness the chiefof a conspiracy may display, the calm of reflection that precedes the terrors of the strife , is often to him like the first agonies of the hour of dissolution. The prince was at the foot of the Terrific Peak, and his brow had resumed its tranquil sternness and imposing severity. An able politician, he was sufficiently the master of his own feelings to conceal the secret anxiety which preyed upon him. Several ofthe chiefs ofthe faction were in waiting ; but, as the messengers at the abbey had predicted, the armed mountaineers whom Palzo was to have reviewed on those lonesome rocks , had refused to venture to the Terrific Peak. The superstitious inhabitants of the country would intrepidly rush upon certain death in the field of battle and carnage, but dared not to approach the peak, on the summit of which appeared the Bleeding Phantom : they were brave enough to despise real danger, but shrunk from the apprehension ofthe supernatural. THE SOLITARY. ' 151 The prince was exceedingly dissatisfied, for every delay was fraught with danger ; nevertheless , he concealed his fears, and surrounded by the principal conspirators, showed them another letter from the ministers of France, renewing all the promises of Louis XI. He informed them, besides , that a part of the Lorrainese troops only waited his signal to revolt against René, to rank themselves under his colours , and march against Nancy. According to the plan ofthe conspirators, all Lor. raine, south of Epinal, was to form a separate province , of which the frontier would extend to Morat, and the sovereignty was to be given to Palzo. Nancy, Luneville, Metz, Le Barrois, and all the rest of the states of René, were to be united to France . soon as the standard of revolt should be raised, the army of Louis XI. was to hasten to Palzo, and from Epinal their assembled armies were to march upon Nancy. As After an eloquent harangue from the prince, the hearts ofthe conspirators felt inspired with new enthusiasm . Their oaths of fidelity were repeated with transport. Palzo smiled at their loud acclamations, and gave them an order to meet in three days, at midnight, with all their troops under arms, on that very plain of Morat, where the Swiss once triumphed over the Burgundians. From this general rendezvous they were immediately to proceed to Epinal, where they would be joined by the Lorrainese and French troops. The plan of the conspiracy, being definitively set. tled, the chiefs separated . 152 THE SOLITARY. The dawn was gloomy, and the sky veiled in clouds, when the prince returned towards the abbey. He stopped in the midst of the forest, and confiding some important messages to the warriors who were around, descended to the valley alone. Sunk in deep musing, Palzo gave the reins to his courser, who soon leaving the beaten track, hastened among the rocks and larch trees. Suddenly, the charger stopped ; and this sudden interruption recalled the prince to himself. He perceived that he had lost his way ; a deep ravine was before him, and thoughtless ofthe danger, he spurred his horse ; the fiery animal sprang to the opposite side, but one of his hind feet became entangled in the roots of a tree, and Palzo was precipitated to the bottom of the deep chasm . He arose, wounded, and his clothes torn , but his contusions were slight. Supporting himself by the brambles, and clinging to the rocks, he with difficulty regained the brink ; he endeavoured in vain to extricate his horse ; he was obliged to leave him, and slowly returned towards the monastery. Bleeding and faint, and endeavouring to find his way, he wandered through the forest at random ; and exhausted with fatigue , stopped at a high precipice which blocked up the passage, and below which he heard the roaring of a torrent. The prince, to recruit his strength, rested awhile on the steep rock, from which his eye strove to measure the depths of the abyss, concealed by thick darkness ; he only heard the sound of water, which boiling among the rocks, dashed with hollow murmur under the vaulted THE SOLITARY. 153 caverns below. Suddenly, from the central obscurity ofthe vast gulf, arose a human voice. An infernal chant seemed issuing from the bosom of the earth . Palzo listened to what he well might deem a prophesy from other regions , the accents of the prince of darkness, and distinguished these words : Traitor ! thy linked plots are riven ! Disdain'd by earth, disclaim'd by heavenThe die of Palzo's fate is cast. A man of wondrous deeds impels The might of kings, the wretch to blast; And loud a voice against thee swells, -From the abyss of doom! Palzo ! thou deck'st the marriage shrine, Elodia, thou wouldst render thine ! Her innocence on Heaven relies .... If join'd to thee, inhuman one ! By barbarous and detested ties , O'er what had Hymen's torches shone ? -O'er an abyss of doom .... Thy final hour is near! .. . repent, And Heaven may pitying yet relent. I see, I see, thy brow along The scythe of death ! .... whose the decree ? The Lord's .... and what inspired the wrong? The will of the arch enemy .... List the abyss of doom ! The prince was petrified with horror ; he was seized with a universal trembling ; his bewildered eyes glared on the dreadful precipice, whence some threatening spectre might arise ; his features were distorted ; his blood was frozen ; his teeth chattered ; his hair stood erect, and a cold sweat started from his 14* 154 THE SOLITARY. forehead. A hoarse scream escaped from his breast, and his livid countenance expressed the disorder of his mind. Meanwhile a dread silence succeeded the notes from the abyss. Palzo arose staggering, and fled from the terrific steep, where his decree had been pronounced. He distractedly climbed the most dangerous rocks, broke through the closest thickets , and leaping the broadest ravines, at length rested in the valley. There the fresh air of the morning reanimated his courage, calmed the agitation of his spirits, and re-established the circulation of his blood. He now breathed freely, but his eyes were haggard, his head was feverish, and his trembling knees could scarcely support him. The prince re- entered the monastery, and retired to his apartments to conceal himself from observation ; and gradually the terrible impression of the infernal song faded from his mind. Perhaps the voice from the abyss might not be supernatural ; a winding path, cut in the rock, might lead to the bottom of the chasm, and give opportunity to some stranger ; . . . . but that stranger could only be an enemy, and the event, supernatural or not, must be a presage of misfortune. The prince threw aside his soiled dresss ; his wounds were slight, and he concealed all traces of them. With a quiet and serene brow, he descended to the Countess Imberg. The rich marriage presents, which Palzo had impatiently expected, had just arrived from Nancy, and were placed in the grand saloon of the abbey. The most magnificent gifts of opulence, and the richest la- THE SOLITARY. 155 bours of art, were pompously arranged by the Countess before the eyes of Elodia, who scarcely cast a look at the dazzling dress and precious jewellery presented to her. Nothing surprised her, and nothing charmed her ; like a simple spectatress of an uninteresting entertainment, or an assistant at a stranger's marriage, she viewed with the utmost indifference, the splendid presents offered to her by love. The Countess observed Elodia. The freezing coldness of her answers, her absent manner, her almost ironical smile, and her disdainful calmness, confounded her penetration. No trouble nor disquiet agitated the orphan. Impassive and silent, she neither expressed surprise, gayety, nor sadness ; and in spite of her profound knowledge of the human heart, the Countess could not understand the strange conduct of her niece, nor discover her unknown sentiments and secret thoughts. The day passed without any remarkable event. How often the eyes of the orphan turned to Morat Lake ? How often she looked to the road of the abbey for those whom the Solitary should send ! The promised succour did not arrive, and yet the following day was to witness the fatal union. Night covered the hemisphere. The Prince De Palzo seemed on the pinnacle of happiness ; his hopes were at length to be realized . He waited impatiently for another dawn. The calmness of the orphan seemed to him a favourable sign , and were it not for that prophecy from the abyss, his heart, intoxicated with hope and joy, would have given itself up entirely to rapture. 156 THE SOLITARY. She The confiding Elodia could not doubt the promises ofthe Man ofthe Wild Mountain, and slept profoundly in her peaceable retreat. At dawn she was awakened by noise, tumult, and confused cries. sprang to her window and saw the monastery surrounded on every side by numerous soldiers . The standard of the Duke of Lorraine floated over the towers. Suddenly and unexpectedly attacked, the guards of Palze had been disarmed and taken prisoners ; and the troops of René, without bloodshed, had taken possession of all the posts and entrances of the abbey ; so that like a citadel of war carried by surprise, the monastery was in the power of a new master. Dismayed and bewildered, the Countess Imberg presented herself before the orphan. Despair was in her soul, and terror on her brow, and it was now the protectress who implored the protected. • In the name of the Duke of Lorraine, Palzo had been arrested as guilty of high treason. His hands were loaded with irons, and he was thrown into the dungeon of the abbey by order ofthe commander of René's warriors ; that commander was the Count De Norendall. The friend and confidant of Palzo would doubtless be implicated in the discovered conspiracy ; perhaps she might even be arrested as an accomplice. But she knew the love of Egbert for Elodia, and that love might save her from the danger which menaced her : She therefore took shelter in the cell of the maid of Underlach. Moved by the despair ofthe Countess, the sympathizing Elodia, forgetting her persecutions and cruel- THE SOLITARY. 157 .... ty, only thought of dissipating her alarm. With the accent of repentance and tenderness, the artful friend of Palzo exclaimed : -" The perfidious man ! how he deceived me ! . . . . I was going to sacrifice my daughter to him! I was going to unite my Elodia to a chief of rebels ! I may be implicated in this conspiracy, and probably perish ; my credulity merits a severe chastisement ; I ought to appear guilty ; but, dearly beloved daughter ! I only reproach myself for having wished to constrain your affections ; another day, and you had been the victim of my tyranny ! Oh ! let René immureme in his dungeons ; let the whole earth condemn me, but let Elodia pardon me, and without regret I shall submit to my fate." Her words bore the conviction of truth ; for innocence is credulous. The daughter of Saint-Maur comforted her protectress, and hastily descended to the Count De Norendall. • • Egbert expected Elodia, yet notwithstanding his efforts to conquer his affections, and his struggles to hide his sentiments, the noble Count De Norendall, overwhelmed by a thousand recollections , was agitated at sight of the orphan. He related to her the intention of his journey, and detailed to her the vast conspiracy of which authentic proofs had been placed in the hands of the Duke of Lorraine, and terminated his recital in these words :-" The Prince De Palzo, the chiefof the plot, is loaded with irons ; the Swiss government permitted his arrestation in their states. Palzo will be judged at Nancy by a council of war ; an ignominious death awaits him, and his accomplices in Lorraine are by this time also arrested ; the loss of 158 THE SOLITARY. their chief will serve as an example to the rebels. " " Noble Knight !" said Elodia, " who thus unveiled the designs of Palzo to your sovereign ?" " Who !" replied Egbert, " the Solitary."-" And how could he discover it , or reveal it to the Duke of Lorraine ?” -" And what matters it, " cried Egbert, " by what means he unravelled the plot or unmasked crime ! he succeeded ; and that is enough. The Man of the Wild Mountain was born to amaze the world. Now even let him speak one word, and that word may change the fate of Europe. Let him come from the mountain, and he can astonish the whole earth. " " He ! " exclaimed Elodia ; " oh, explain yourself !" Without answering her, and looking at the sumptuous presents of the prince, still displayed around the grand saloon of the monastery, " This morning,” said Egbert, sighing deeply, " this very morning Palzo was to have led you to the altar. The unfortunate ! how I pity him !" Then raising a veil of valuable workmanship, surmounted by a coronet of flowers , - " never," continued he, bitterly, " never shall my hand thus ornament the brow of a bride . The scorch. ing breath of misfortune has extinguished for me the torches ofhymen and withered the garlands of love. " " And the sister of the Duke of Lorraine ?" said the orphan timidly. " After having loved you," cried Egbert passionately, " could this heart beat for another ! ... Could cold ambition replace ardent love! Egbert fell at his sovereign's feet, and disclosed his whole soul. René pardoned his refusals , and the sister ofthe Duke of Lorraine is now the happy wife of a prince of Germany. " Deeply moved, Elodia ... THE SOLITARY. 159 feared to meet the touching eyes of the magnanimous warrior. " Count de Norendall, " said she, " I now owe you more than life ; your assistance · " "You owe me nothing," cried Egbert quickly, " you owe all to the Solitary . " " Generous man !" said Elodia, " do you refuse my gratitude ! "-" Did you not refuse my love ! " Then changing the conversation, the maid of Underlach ventured a word for the Countess Imberg. In compliance with the orders of René, the friend of Palzo was to be conducted to Nancy to undergo an interrogation. Elodia pleaded warmly the cause of her protrectress, and the Count De Norendall promised her his most powerful intercession with the prince of Lorraine. Egbert the next morning was to leave Switzerland. Should the orphan remain at the monastery, when at Nancy her presence and entreaties might contribute to the safety of the Countess ! Should she abandon her in adversity, who had undertaken in prosperity a long and arduous journey to be a mother to her ! ... No! honour commanded the most generous devotion ; but alas ! she must then leave the Solitary ! How could she separate herself from her excellent protector! how fly the being to whom her destiny seemed linked. ... Her heart was torn by a conflicting struggle of emotions. Duty at length proved stronger than love ; and Elodia determined not to leave the protectress whom Herstall had assigned her, while she were menaced by peril or danger ; but as soon as the Countess should again be free and fortunate, the gentle maiden of Hel- 160 THE SOLITARY. vetia determined to return, to spend the remainder of her days in the monastery of Underlach. When the Count de Norendall was informed of the last resolutions of Elodia, he thought with secret joy that he might perhaps long enjoy her society, and become her guide and protector. The orphan returned to the friend of Palzo, and related the promises of Egbert ; she told her of the plan she had formed ofleaving the abbey, and the gratitude of the Countess expressed itself in the most lively transports. The inhabitants of the valley were no longer forbidden to enter the cloister, and father Anselmo has-- tened to his young friend. The good old pastor was delighted to see that she had escaped from every danger. " Who," exclaimed be, " has delivered you from your dreadful captivity, by revealing the conspiracy ?" " The benefactor of our valleys-the Solitary, " " Still the Solitary !" cried Anselmo, and his countenance expressed chagrin. " Elodia !" continued he, " since the arrival ofthe perfidious Palzo, have you again seen the Man of the Wild Mountain ?" " Yes," said the blushing and ingenuous girl. " Who called him hither ?" —" Elodia. "—" Did you call himthat he might defend you ?" " I wished him to save me. " Anselmo was silent a moment. 66 Daughter !" said he, looking at her attentively, " answer with sincerity ; has the Solitary ever spoken to you of love ?" The question was put in a stern tone. “ My father," said Elodia, turning upon Anselmo her eyes full of gentleness and sweetness , " should he be forbidden to love ?" THE SOLITARY. 161 'Anselmo was much agitated ; the answer was unequivocal. "Almighty Heaven !" said the pastor, thy will be done !" 66 . The Maiden of Underlach informed the old man of her determination to accompany the Countess Imberg, to plead her cause with her judges, and then to return to Helvetia. Although the pastor, in his own. mind, condemned the guilty Countess, he could not but applaud the generous sentiments of the orphan. This journey, besides, might separate her from the Solitary, at least for a time. Some powerful knight ofthe court of Lorraine might era from her heart the impression of the unknown ; and her destiny might providentially be fixed at Nancy. Aoselmo approved of her departure, and tenderly bade her adieu. While preparing for her journey, Elodia never felt her courage falter ; but, at the moment of leaving the abbey, it seemed ready to desert her. " Dear' vale !" the orphan exclaimed, " I am going to leave thee ; a flower torn from my native rocks , and impelled by the stormy wind, where may I not fall, faded and withering !" Her eyes were turned to the mountains of Morat Lake ; and a sad sigh attested her secret grief. Could she only have informed him who filled her heart, of the motives of her absence ! But to whom could she confide , or who would undertake to carry a message ! No mountaineer of the country dared approach the Solitary. According to the instructions Egbert had received, to avoid the rebels, he was only to cross the Vol. I. 15 162 THE SOLITARY. Canton of Morat with his prisoner in the middle of the night. Elodia was mounted, as well as the Countess, on a mule richly caparisoned, and paced along the valley. The inhabitants of the village had learnt of her departure, and though comforted by her promises of a speedy return to the abbey, with grief they pressed around her ; tears fell from their eyes, and their silent farewell pierced her gentle heart. The shade grew darker in the plain which the setting sun no longer illuminated ; but the snowy summits ofthe mountains were still effulgent with light, and clothed with a broad mantle ofpurple. The airwas mild and serene, the hamlet was still ; the red and yellow tints of autumn were blended with the verdure ofthe forests ; the timorous chamois was bounding along the peaks ofthe distant rocks ; the laemmergeyer sailed. slowly above the clouds, and the stream rolled its limpid waters. Nature had never seemed more beautiful to the orphan, nor the aspect of the valley more seductive. Alas ! such is the human heart ; it often only feels the value of what it possesses, at the moment when all is lost. More fitted for sorrow than enjoyment, it appreciates what it had when it. holds it no longer. Do our eyes then only open when they weep ! .... .... Already the gray walls ofthe monastery were lost in the distance .. Its high towers now silently. arise, inhabited by the bird of darkness, and crumbling under the mantling ivy. The winds blow through their mouldering loop-holes. No human foot is heard along their summits , which appear to commune but with clouds. These still imposing ruins, THE SOLITARY. 163 seem to bid a melancholy farewell to the traveller, who, less happy than they, foresees the ravages of time, counts his steps , and feels the scythe which strikes him. Surrounded by guards, and loaded with irons, the Prince de Palzo marched at the head of the brigade. Between two steep rocks, the troops of Count De Norendall were slowly filing off. Suddenly the daughter of Saint-Maur was drawn from her deep musing by an almost magic name, pronounced beside her. How powerfully that word awakened her attention ! how it thrilled to her heart ! .... What was it ? . . . . the Wild Mountain ! Elodia was in the midst of high mountains " The palaces of nature, whose vast walls Have pinnacled in clouds their snowy scalps, And throned eternity in icy halls Of cold sublimity, where forms and falls The avalancheAll that expands the spirit, yet appals, Gathers around their summits, as to show How earth may pierce to heaven." Elodia had reached the foot of the mountain ; Egbert and some knights were around her. Her eyes eagerly gazed on the mysterious forest, and her heart beat violently. The orphan felt persuaded, that he who could penetrate the secret thoughts of princes andcourts, wasaware ofherpreparations for departure, and intentions of returning. Doubtless he would knowthe hour of her passing through that lonely defile ; doubtless he was there , and wished to cast a 164 THE SOLITARY. parting glance upon her .... Ah ! why could she not meet that look ! On the side of the mountain, among the firs and rocks, Elodia indistinctly perceived a wild habitation. The more she looked, the more the objects she endeavoured to distinguish, captivated her attention. From an enormous mass of granite, arose a rustic edifice ; the walls were of trunks of trees, and the thatch of reeds. Near this singular dwelling, half hid by some forest boughs, was a stand of arms , above which hung an armorial buckler, shining to the setting sun. To her surprise, Egbert stopped at the sight ; he made a sign to his companions, and suddenly, by the long roll of the drum, every brow was bent downwards , and every lance lowered with respect, before the wild hut of the Solitary. The warlike salute being over, the friend of René continued his way, without appearing to remark the surprise of the orphan. -What meant that striking homage to the Man of the Wild Mountain ? What ! before the armour even of the Solitary, the Count De Norendall prostrates himself ! ... How inexplicable the mystery ! Egbert's troops quickened their march ; they emerged from the narrow passes of the Wild Mountain , and hastened along Morat Lake. Night was coming on ; they were approaching the Terrific Peak, and there danger awaited them. The rebels had learned of the arrest of Palzo. The departure of Egbert, the route he was to take, and the time of his passing were all known to them. The insurgent chiefs had resolved to save the Prince , and THE SOLITARY. 165 not far from the Terrific Peak the mountaineers waited in ambush for the friend of René, to attack his troops, and rescue the prisoner. The Count De Norendall rarely left Elodia. Attentive to every movement, he wished to guard her with all the power of his soul, and all the strength of his life. On her account he was distressed at the bitterness of her sorrows in leaving for the first time her natal soil, at the fatigues of the journey, and the damp night air ; and even the moaning of the wind through the forest was a source of uneasiness. The Countess addressed herself to Egbert after a long silence. " What, " said she , " is that steep rock which, tinted with a reddish hue, seems a fragment from infernal caves ? Its gigantic shadow projects afar like a threatening spectre .... Listen ! was that the wind sighing through the cliffs of the rock ? ... Sir Knight ! where are we ? Here the very air is pregnant with terror.... Count De Norendall , whither are you conducting us ? ...." Her features and trembling voice expressed the horror of her feelings. " This rock," answered Egbert, " is the Terrific Peak ; popular superstitions have rendered it formidable . Here the monks ofthe monastery of Underlach perished by the hands of a barbarian horde ; and here, according to the mountaineers, the Bleeding Phantom” - " Egbert !" cried the alarmed orphan, " let us hasten on. " The maid of Underlach had scarcely spoken, when piercing shouts arose from the forest. A cloud of arrows darkened the air, the rocks bristled into pikes and soldiers , and the rebel mountaineers surrounded 15* 166 THE SOLITARY. the troops of Egbert. A dreadful contest began at the foot of the Terrific Peak. The guards of Palzo fell bathed in their blood. The chains of the Prince were broken, and the chief ofthe insurgents, armed anew, fought at the head of his deliverers. Egbert reanimated, by his voice, his terror- stricken warriors and his own daring audacity, turned the assailants pale. In the most perilous posts, and in the midst of the most frightful melée, his crest waved proudly like an oriflame of victory. Night spread her funereal pall over the combatants. Kneeling against the rock, the unfortunate orphan raised her supplicating hands to heaven. The Countess had left her ; spurring her mule, the traitress had taken shelter with the opposite party ; the murderous shaft hurtled often by the ear of Elodia. Like an impenetrable rampart, Egbert defied all access to the Terrific Peak ; like a wounded lion , he fought with the fury of despair. Valour triumphed over number ; the insurgent ranks were thrown into disorder, and their bodies covered the plain. The Prince de Palzo sought for the daughter of Saint-Maur. If he could not exterminate the troops of Egbert, at least, before flying with his mountaineers, he wished to take possession of her he adored. He perceived her at the foot ofthe rock ; he plunged upon his victim, and was ready to seize her ..... when between them darted the Count De Norendall. Armed for vengeance, and implacable rivals, the two warriors fought with all the violence of hatred, and all the impetuosity of rage ; their blood gushed over their armour, and both appeared invincible. But THE SOLITARY. 167 alas ! a dart from a mountaineer pierced the cuirass of Egbert, and remained in his side. The valorous Count De Norendall endeavoured to extract the shaft, but the iron broke in the wound. He felt himself sinking, yet he fought on. He still possessed his wonted energy of soul ; and that energy is strength, independent of physical power ; an impulse which inspirits exhausted nature, and infuses existence and vigour. The maid of Underlach shrieked in grief and despair : Egbert was staggering ; she was lost ! for the Prince de Palzo was nearly triumphant. Suddenly the Terrific Peak was shaken by a dreadful explosion ; a dazzling flame rose from the rocks ; and the whole forest shone with red and blazing fires glancing through the thick smoke ; the earth trembled, and a black whirlwind mounted in a circling column to the skies. A pestiferous odour exhaled from the infernal cloud, whence issued threatening and supernatural voices. The cloud opened .... and, as on a fiery car, or in the midst of a meteor, the Bleeding Phantom appeared. The mountaineers screamed with terror ! ... their alarm was at its height ; their hair stood erect ; seized with dread and horror, some remained petrified and motionless like the soldiers of Phineas before the Gorgon head ; others fled to the forest, and in gloomy caves hid their affrighted heads. The greater part fell on their knees, and allowed themselves to be pinioned by the conquerors : all implored death, and all expected a yawning abyss would open beneath their feet. The soldiers of Egbert had no longer any opponents. 168 THE SOLITARY. The Prince de Palzo gazed on the Phantom. Its gigantic form was clothed in a scarlet robe, and the blood seemed flowing from its thick locks. In the midst of the sulphureous vapour whioh surrounded it, the bow of the Prince of darkness, like a black serpent, appeared in its fiery hands with the ready javelin of death. The sparkling eye of the spectre, rolling here and there in its orbit, seemed as if it would consume the objects on which it glared. Its glance was the flash of an explosion, its voice the fatal sound ofthe trump ofjudgment. Startled nature was silent. The winds of the forest were hushed ; the air oscillated obscurely. What power has the ascendant ? ... Heaven ? or Hell ? ….. TheCount De Norendall still resisted the redoubled blows of Palzo ; and the orphan gazed on them with bewildered eyes. Why did the chief of the rebels suddenly cease to assail his adversary ? Why did his audacious brow, adorned with a conquering crest, suddenly stoop ? Why did the steel escape from his hand ?Whydid he fall inanimately ? ...Fromthe bow of the Bleeding Phantom came the deadly shaft. Palzo was no more ! The maid of Underlach sunk under the violent shocks which had successively assailed her. The Count De Norendall was saved ; and the orphan, thanking heaven, cast a last look upon the dreadful apparition of the Terrific Peak ; she saw the Bleeding Phantom was descending towards her, and she swooned. THE SOLITARY. 169 CHAPTER X. A FEW precursive rays of the dawn had chased the shades of night from the ethereal plain. The forest trees , wet with the dew of morning, shook their brown tops in the breeze. The last months of Ceres had fled, and a few dry leaves fluttered in the air. Beautiful as the golden ray of the setting sun , nature decked the hills and woods with a thousand colours. The return of the season of flowers is lovely, but more exquisitely touching is the farewell of autumn. The niece of Herstall returned to life, but her confused ideas could not pierce the shades which surrounded her. It only seemed to her, that carried by some rapid whirlwind she cleft the air with velocity. Elodia opened her languid eyelids ; she could distinguish nothing ; yet what she felt was not a dream. Like the bird of the valley seized by the mountain eagle, she felt herself carried along by an unknown power with a quick and unchecked flight. Thus the nymph Orythia crossed the river Illissus , when borne away by impetuous Boreas. Elodia revived ; and with life recollection returned . By the faint light, she cast a timid glance on the unknown form that sustained her. What was her terror ! ... Covered with a red mantle, of which the ample folds were wrapped around her, she was in the arms of the Bleeding Phantom ! 170 THE SOLITARY. He rapidly climbed the mountain, and plunged into the forest. He fled with her amid the rocks and steeps like a destructive meteor gliding through the shades. Light as an airy eddy his impatient course was like that of a vapoury cloud. And silent as a spirit from the grave, he seemed to belong neither to the living nor the dead. The daughter of Saint- Maur sobbed convulsively, and closed her eyes in horror, "Elodia ! Elodia !" cried a tender and suppliant voice. Oh how those well known accents thrilled to the orphan's heart ! The first rays of the sun do not more quickly enliven the drooping plant ; to the burning lips ofthe traveller, lost in Zahara's sands, not more delightfully is life restored by the waters of the fountain in the desert ; an angel choir had sounded less sweetly. Elodia opened her eyes at the exclamation of love and grief, and their light mingled with the glances of the Solitary. He walked more slowly, and supported her in his arms ; he pressed her to his heart, and the maid of Underlach remained quiet in sweet forgetfulness ; but her stillness was not the calm of insensibility ; it was the repose of an enchanting dream, where the cessation of movement is only the fear of awaking. The Solitary was still clothed with the ensanguined robe of the phantom he had personated. But the orphan dreaded it no longer ; the affrighting costume was nothing, provided beneath it, beat the heart of the well-beloved. $ The stirring zephyrs of the dawn played among the flaxen tresses of the orphan, and scattered them THE SOLITARY. 171 upon her shoulders. touched the lips of the moment. .. he feared to nocence ; he gently removed them, but again the light breath of the morning returned them to his lips. The Solitary could no longer struggle against his ardent desire , and on the ringlets of Elodia he imprinted a tender kiss . The undulating curls just Solitary . He hesitated a profane those veils of inHer Powerful electricity of love ! Elodia felt the kiss through all her frame. The eyes of the Solitary were more brilliant, more tender, than ever. heart beat violently, but the heart of the lover beat still more impetuously. The Solitary, but a moment before so calm and measured in his gait, moved quickly and impatiently ; his impassioned lips murmured inarticulate sounds ; his forehead bent to the brow of Elodia ; their glances mingled for a moment, and the burning breath of love spread a magic cloud around the two lovers alone in the solitude . The daughter of Saint-Maur instantly disengaged herselffrom the arms of the Solitary. " I can walk, " said she, " I will follow you ;" and alarmed, she fled from her deliverer. Without reflecting whither her steps might lead, and without any determinate intention, she continued to climb the mountain ; she wandered through the forest hastily , and careless of the obstacles in her way. Thus before the Shepherd of Admetus, fled the daughter of Peneus. Suddenly she was attracted by a warlike trophy of arms, not far from which was a hermitage buried in woods. Elodia recognized the armorial buckler 172 THE SOLITARY. which Count Egbert De Norendall had yester- eve saluted. " Where am I ," exclaimed she, as she turned to the Solitary ; " whither do you conduct me ?" " It is I who follow you, " replied the mountain hunter in an humble tone. "What place is this ?"- " The Wild Mountain. ". " And whose is this dwelling ?" " It is the hermitage of the Solitary. " " Yes !" continued he, " here is my rock of exile ; this is the sole domain I can offer to a companion. Here, with none but busy memory, reposing under the dark cypress, or seated on the arid heath, the secluded unfortunate drank the water of the mountain spring, and supported nature on roots, wild fruits, and a few bitter herbs. Elodia! is such the husband that thy innocence and beauty should choose ! . . . Alas ! he has no country, he bears no title , a nameless being who cannot even offer thee a pure heart. . . . Gentle dove of Underlach ! shun the abode of the wretch ! fly the man of the Wild Mountain ! " " Ah ! ” replied the pitying orphan, " I never have fled the unhappy. " A bitter smile half illumined the gloomy brow of the Solitary. He approached the warlike trophy, and pointing to the buckler, emblazoned with royal escutcheons.-" I, " said he, " have not always been what I am now; there was a time when my name, high in renown , resounded through all Europe. Of all my past triumphs, would that this alone remained ! .. Speak ! " said he, seizing Elodia's hand," "speak ; have fortune, glory, greatness, any charms for you ? I can yet lay them at thy feet ; I need but say one word, and my fate will more than ever amaze. That word- I can pronounce it only with horror- THE SOLITARY. 173 but what matters it ! .... Thou mayest order my future destiny." " I have always rejected the dignities ofthe earth," answered the orphan. She paused awhile ; " let us," said she, " enter the hermitage. " She spoke, and turned towards the rural dwelling ; when she entered the rustic hut, the happy mountain huntsman exclaimed in ecstacy, " asylum of the Solitary -lo! thou art sanctified ! " and falling at her feet, " complete thy work !" said he passionately, ' adopt this for thy home of love ! -be the bride of the exile !" << " Then," said Elodia, " Oh name me my husband !" .... " His name !" cried the Solitary, with every feature expressive of dread " Elodia ! if that name, a fatal revelation , should snatch your affections from me !" " Ah ! do not fear to tell it !" replied the maiden. The Solitary abandoned himself to the most animated transports of gratitude. " Oh ! my beloved !" he exclaimed, " thou shalt be satisfied. To- morrow, my name, my errors, my whole life, shall be known to thee ; I will disclose the past, and await thy verdict. " But, for heaven's sake, do not leave these rocks , do not quit my wild abode ! Egbert, wounded, has been transported to the monastery, invested by his rude soldiers the Countess Imberg is no more-her mule, startled by the flames of the Terrific Peak, precipitated her into the torrent. Let me be, then, thy only refuge on earth. I swear by the Almighty, to respect the Maid of Underlach as something divine, VOL. II . 16 174 THE SOLITARY. forbidden to humanity. Until the altar receive our vows, my hermitage, inhabited by Elodia, shall be a sanctuary unstained by my presence ; I will only approach thee as the Ark of the Covenant, which no sacrilegious hand profanes. " Intent on tracing the history of the reprobate, whoto-morrow will reveal to thee his name, I shall remain under the trees ofthe forest ; there I shall at least hear thy voice ; and the idea of thy presence, or the thought that thou art near, will still enchant my solitude. " His eyes shone brightly, his voice was tender ; and the daughter of Saint- Maur, her eyes filled with tears, smiled at his delight ; so a ray of the sun breaks through a stormy cloud. 66 Elodia," continued the Solitary, " I might often have taken possession of thee, yet I left thee free ; I have often seen thee in my power, and yet I obeyed thee. When sustaining thee in my arms , I felt the poison of love bewilder my burning brain ; a single. accent from thee triumphed over all the powers of mybeing. Canst thou doubt, then, of thy magic ascendant over the Man of the Wild Mountain ? Oh! that the Maid of Underlach could have been always by his side, to retain him in the paths of virtue ! .... But a few hours, and thou wilt have judged me ! .... Fallen from the height of power, of all the past I only regret the pure days of my youth. Oh ! answer me ; adored maid, wilt thou remain in my hermitage ?" Elodia cast down her eyes, and sighed. Deeply affected, and overcome with weakness, she sunk pale and trembling on aseat ofinterwoven reeds, which ran THE SOLITARY. 175 around the inside of the hut. " I can scarcely support myself, " answered she, “ I can go no farther. " " Dost thou then confide thyself to me !" cried the Solitary, full of gratitude and joy. " Oh! thou loveliest creation of Heaven ! thou whom I steal from the world ! under the cabin of the exile, admired by me alone, by me alone adored, wilt thou be contented with thy lot ? will my heart suffice for thee ? .... What do I say ? Ah ! hast thou not disdained already the gifts offortune ? But, what thou losest in wealth, in dignities, and in power, I will render to thee in love." He spoke, and hastened to prepare a frugal repast, beneath the foliage , for her refreshment. Nature seemed to smile upon them ; the sky, like a radiant canopy, covered them with veils of azure ; the songsters of the grove carolled around ; the air, like ä divine incense from the valley's fruits and flowers, exhaled odours of love ; the desert was full of harmonious charms ; and a bright, pure sunshine, enlightened this new Eden. At length the Solitary left the orphan, and during the whole day, he was writing the fatal events of his life. The hours rolled rapidly away, and night came. Elodia retired to the recess where her simple couch was placed. The mountain hunter never approached the sacred precincts occupied by the adored maid ; and all night, leaning against the door of the hermitage, he watched alone, and continued the work he had begun. With halfher course accomplished, from her ebon throne the deity of darkness spread her leaden sceptre over the drowsy world, when the niece of 176 THE SOLITARY. Herstall was awakened by a deep groan, Not far from her, and without the cabin, as if terrified by some horrid vision , the Man of the Wild Mountain seemed in a frantic delirium. Elodia thought she heard him throw himself upon the rock, and by inarticulate sounds and stifled plaints , answer an avenging deity, who, he thought, hovered near to pronounce his doom. " Mercy ! " he cried, in a piercing tone, "mercy !" .... and the silence of death succeeded the accentof despair. How long the night appeared to the orphan ! At dawn, she agai saw the man of mystery. Gloomy and silent, he seemed altered by some supernatural event. A dreadful thought occupied his mind, and like the victim condemned to the scaffold , his eyes were bent upon the earth. He left the hermitage, and resumed his labours. Elodia dared not question him. By sunset, the impenetrable secrets of the Solitary were to be revealed to her. Uneasy at her separation from him, she allowed her mind to dwell on melancholy presentiments. What was she going to learn ! .... What was to be her destiny ! Alas ! how dreadful the approach of the moment that was to decide the fate of her whole life ! At length the setting sun gilt with expiring ray the rocks of Helvetia. " Are those to me the last beams of happiness ?" said the orphan, and her eye sought the Solitary. He appeared ; his face was pale , and his glances keen and fierce . He was shrouded in a black man- THE SOLITARY. 177 tle ; " follow me ! " said he, in a hurried and harsh tone ; and hastily descended the mountain. He left the forest, he crossed the torrent, and directed his impatient course towards Morat, like the first murderer flying from the pursuing curse . Nocturnal darkness chased away the light of day. A thick vapour rose from the valley, covered the mountains, and veiled nature. Through the dark mist, the maid ofthe monastery followed her silent guide ; she walked with downcast eyes in awe of some dreadful event. Suddenly, not far from Morat Lake, the Solitary stopped. The wind bore to the ear of the orphan, the long moaning of the waves breaking drearily upon the lonely strand. She looked around her. Merciful God ! where was she ? .... at the entrance of a vaulted monument of human bones-between pillars formed of heaped skeletons-beneath a triumphal arch, erected by vengeance to ferocity. * " Heaven ! where am I ?" said the Maid of Underlach. " In the charnel of the field of Morat," answered the Man of the Wild Mountain, " and I , am Charles the Bold." And throwing aside his black mantle, the Solitary, clothed with the armour of the conqueror, appeared in the midst of the vast sepulchre, as on a throne of the dead ; and under that catacomb of crime, he

• This chapel of bones existed almost entire before the French

revolution. It was destroyed by the Burgundian regiments of the French army, in the wars of the republic. Some vestiges still remain. 16* 178 THE SOLITARY. seemed like a blasted angel, fallen from realms of light, to the gulf of torture and despair. " Charles the Bold !" repeated, in rending accents, the unhappy Elodia, " you! the sanguinary duke of Burgundy-you ! the assassin of my father ?" Dismayed and tottering, she leaned against one of the columns of death. " Yes !" said he, in a phrenzied tone, " yes, I am the implacable Burgundian, the scourge of Europe. Heaven, Heaven itself, has commanded me to reveal you my name only in this infernal grotto, surrounded by all the recollections and all the horrors of my life. Last night, upon this guilty head descended the angel of avenging decrees. I heard the voice of the Lord ! it commanded-I should obey ; and lo ! I am here. ” From his livid brow started a cold sweat. His eyes were haggard, his respiration was broken, and his voice scarcely human. " Speak ! " continued he, " and curse me. Such doubtless is the wish of Heaven, since it ordained this dreadful scene , this unexampled sacrifice. My accusers are around me-I hear their doleful cries . Human nature repulses me Heaven rejects me. Daughter of Saint- Maur ! curse me ; I deserve my fate . ” Almost inanimate, the unfortunate Charles fell to the earth in the frightful charnel ; and his brow pressed the dust which once drew breath-the ashes of his victims. " Charles !” cried Elodia, distractedly, “ Charles ! arise. " " Who calls me ?" said the Solitary, his co.ntenance amped with the traits of mental alienation. " Is it the reproaching voice of my slaughtered THE SOLITARY. 179 people ? ... Is it the abyss that claims the tyrant ? Is it divine justice pronouncing the doom of the bloodthirsty soldier ?" " No, " said the orphan, recovering her energy, " Heaven is appeased-its justice is satisfied-its mercy pardons. " " ReAt these words the Man of the Wild Mountain raised his humbled head ; he looked at Elodia with surprise ; his features were still bewildered, but his delirium was calmed, and a tear escaped from his eyes. peat," said he, " oh still repeat, Heaven is appeasedits mercy pardons ! Saving Angel ! ray of hope and salvation ! complete thy divine mission , and absolve, in the name of the Most High ! " " At the hermitage ! " cried ElodiaAnd darting away, like the unknown stars which shoot along the midnight firmament, she fled towards the forest, found the mountain path, and soon arriving at the Solitary's dwelling, sunk exhausted inthe cottage. The orphan for a few moments was almost insensible. The unhappy Charles of Burgundy re-appeared ; he approached her, and presenting to her a manuscript, thus addressed her : " Here is the history of my whole life-here is the recital of all my crimes . I will never again see you , till you command me to your presence. If my crimes seem expiated-if pity move your heart-if innocence forgive repentance, address me a few words of hope ; and place the scroll in the hollow ofthe old willow tree , at the foot of the mountain path. At a distance from you, I await your verdict. " His voice was low and solemn, and despair was on his brow. He endeavoured to hide his sufferings, 180 THE SOLITARY. and turned away his eyes, lest he should soften in his favour the judge whom he had chosen.... Elodia strove to answer him, but her strength failed ; .. and the Solitary had left the hermitage. The orphan was alone, and held in her hand the fatal manuscript.-Oh! howoften must her tears flow in readingthe terrible tale ! THE SOLITARY. 181 CHAPTER XI. " CHARLES VII. reigned over France, and peace was at length restored to his unhappy kingdom , torn by cruel wars , and so miraculously saved by the simple Sheperdess of Vaucouleurs. Serene day's succeeded the violent tempests, and the impoverishment of finance, and the weariness of the warriors throughout all Europe, promised the people a long repose . " The dauphin, son to Charles VII. , and since Louis XI. , accused of having poisoned the beautifu Agnes Sorel, and broken the heart of his first wife, Margaret of Scotland, and impatient to reign, had for the second time conspired against his father. His new plot had miscarried. Young, yet loaded with crimes, proscribed and pursued by paternal vengeance, Louis took refuge at the court of Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy, and demanded an asylum. " Philip hated Charles VII.; the assassination of his father, the famous John the Fearless, committed at the bridge of Montereau in the presence of the young monarch, did not yet seem to him sufficiently avenged. He welcomed the fugitive with the honours due to the presumptive heir of the crown of France ; a brilliant palace was offered to the dauphin, and he received magnificent entertainment. I was then in the spring of life ; the French prince, artful and hypocritical, bore on his brow every appearance of 182 THE SOLITARY. virtue and sincerity. He soon exculpated himself, to my eyes, from all the crimes of which his father accused him. Charles VII . appeared to me an unnatural monster, and the dauphin a noble victim. With the most ardent expressions, with all the effusion of youth and sentiment, Louis offered me his friendship, and my heart met his with transport. Credulous, warm, and impassioned, I was far from thinking that the friendship of princes is like the dry leaf, floating at random through the air, and borne alike to the mountain or the fen. " In claiming his son, whom Philip refused to deliver, Charles VII. for a while appeared to threaten Burgundy. ' Let him arm all France !' I exclaimed at the news, and seized my sword ; as long as I can draw the steel from the scabbard, so long shall the satellites of Charles keep alooffrom Louis.' " The dauphin smiled at my fervour, and his apparently grateful joy inspired my soul with new enthu siasm. I was proud of being the protector and friend of the heir of France ; but alas ! the future successor of Charles VII . in his secret soul, regarded the protector as an instrument, and the friend as a servant. "Amongthe noblemen of the court of Burgundy, the Count De Saint-Maur was the one I had chosen from childhood , to be my sole confidant. He was a celebrated warrior, and had guided my first steps in the field ; he had accompanied me in all my occupations , and in all my pleasures. A profound observer and severe judge, he had studied the heart of the dauphin. • Count De Charolais !' said he to me one day, permit me to blame your excessive affection • THE SOLITARY. 183 for the son of Charles VII. Your sentiments, which are not reciprocal, may become the misfortune of your life. Notwithstanding the artful veil under which the dauphin hides his heart, I have discovered perfidy, where you see only friendship . ' " Irritated at this interference, I from that time avoided the Count De Saint-Maur. He lost my confidence, and I sacrificed to the princely and lawless villain , the sincere and devoted friend. " The Baron D'Herstall had just presented at the court of Philip his daughter Irena, to whom a distant relation, the Duchess of Aroville, had left her immense wealth. Never had Burgundy given birth to a more striking beauty. Irena became the theme of every tongue, and the object ofevery eye. A crowd of adorers pressed around the heiress ofAroville, the brilliant idol of the court. I shared in the general delight ; I had not then seen Elodia ; Irena appeared to methe master- piece of nature, and I mistook admiration for love. " Charles VII . having died, the Dauphin was suspected of having poisoned his father. Louis was called to the throne. Devoted to friendship, I left Irena ; 1 quitted Burgundy, and hastened to France in the suite ofthe new sovereign.

" Louis XI. overwhelmed me at his court with magnificent presents, but they were the gifts of a sovereign to his vassal. Vainly I sought the friend ; I only found the monarch. My heart was wounded at this sudden change ; and, weary of constraint, I solicited a private interview ; I obtained it ; he was alone in his cabinet ; I hastened to salute him and reproach 184 THE SOLITARY. 6 him with my own tenderness of feeling, when he drew back a few paces, and presented me a sealed packet ; ' Count De Charolais !" said Louis , with all the haughtiness of an absolute Prince, your truth I am convinced of, and I owe you my gratitude. I confide to you the government of Normandy ; here is your brevet. To- morrow you will set out for Rouen, whither your duty calls you. Continue to merit the confidence and good will of your sovereign.' " Louis retired . Petrified with surprize and indigmation, I remained motionless for an instant . . . . then sprang in a transport offury from the detested palace. Such are Princes ! exclaimed I , gentle and fawning in adversity, ungrateful and imperious in prosperity !' " The Count De Saint- Maur had accompanied me to Paris. In my rage I wished to write to Louis, to reject his presents with disdain , and fly that very day from his kingdom. The sage counsels of Saint- Maur at length changed my fiery resolutions ; why could they not calm my anguish ? The first wounds ofthe youthful heart are so painful ! Man is not yet accustomed to his kind, and experience has not yet taught him to distinguish the false from the true. Besides the poignant grief of sentiment, I felt the mortification of having been deceived ; and regretted the vanished delusion. " This ardent and sincere heart which Louis had lacerated, for the first time, felt a contempt for the human race. Saint-Maur had rightly judged the Dauphin ; but humiliated in his presence , I could scarcely pardon his triumph ; and I wished to seein his pene- THE SOLITARY. 185 tration at discovering hidden vice, only his inward conviction of man's general perversity, founded on the knowledge of himself as well as his fellow- creatures. 66 However, submissive to his advice , I left Paris and took the command of Normandy. Louis had just showed his indifference ; it was not long before he proved his hatred. " Some years before the death of Charles VII . I had known the Duke of Britanny, a youthful rivalry armed us against each other ; I had fought with him in close combat, and Louis was acquainted with our mutual animosity. I was scarcely installed in Normandy, when the King of France sent one of his lieutenants, charged with extraordinary powers, superseding those ofgovernor ; and this lieutenant was the Duke of Britanny. " At this perfidious act, this new insult, I was about to yield to the transport ofmy rage ; again Saint- Maur had the art of repressing my passions. But in blaming the indignation of virtue , he taught me to deceive ; he accustomed me to sacrifice sentiment to interest, and to replace the noble impulse of the heart by the cool calculations of the mind. He ended by stifling within me those fertile germs of enthusiasm and good faith, which, freely developed, would have produced only glorious fruits. The smothered fire became a desolating volcano, which burst at intervals ; and the voice ofprudence only led me to crime. "The Westphalians of Liege had long been the declared enemies of the Burgundians, Louis XI. signed a treaty of alliance with them. His vile agents surrounded me at Rouen ; the dagger of the assassin Vol II. 17 186 THE SOLITARY. continually menaced me, and soon a deadly draught was administered to me. My strength and youth triumphed over the poison. My health returned, but no human efforts could then moderate the violence ofmy fury. I proclaimed Louis XI . felon, traitor, poisoner, and parricide. I denounced him to the abhorrence of earth and the vengeance of heaven ; then returning with disdain his abhorred brevet, I hastened to arm Burgundy against France. " The hypocritical monarch appeared deeply affected at my accusation. He strove to justify himself in the eyes of the world ; he convoked the Princes of the blood, the lords of his court, and the deputies of his towns. He harangued this assembly with as much audacity as talent, and named it his judge. But the despot had chosen the members of his tribunal , and the criminal was solemnly absolved. " Meanwhile at my war cry of vengeance the most illustrious chiefs of the French kingdom rose against Louis XI.; and the Duke De Bourbon, the brotherin-law of the monarch, the Duke D'Alencon, the Count D'Armagnac, the Sieur D'Albret, the Duke De Nemours, the Count Du Maine , the Duke De Calabria, the Count De Dunois, and even the Duke of Britanny, joined my cause. These confederate pow- ´ ers* armed their vassals. The insurrection against Louis became general ; and all the forces of the monarchy together threatened the tyrant, whose only

• This war was named the War of the Common Weal. (See

Anquetil, Duclos, Daniel, Mezeray.) THE SOLITARY. 187 ally was the Duke of Milan , the famous bastard, Francis Sforza. 66 I took the field at the head of a valorous army. The troops of Louis fled before the Burgundians. My path was strewed with laurels , and victory hovered over my banners. My march was a succession of triumphs ; the French towns opened their gates to me ;the people called me their deliverer ; I dispersed my enemies ; I overcame every obstacle, and arrived at the gates of Paris ; and the Count De Charolais was named by all Europe, Charles the Terrible. " Louis had concentrated all his forces near his capital. A decisive battle took place in the plain of Longjumeau ; the king fought in person ; he several times exposed his life ; and fell in the ranks exhausted with fatigue ; he was carried senseless to the castle De Montlheri. The Burgundians were victorious. The French declared Louis XI. dethroned, and his brother, the Duke De Berri, was proclaimed king of France bythe confederate princes . I besieged Paris ; Louis left his capital, and secretly sent me his supplications; he reminded me ofour former sentiments ; he implored his ancient friend ; he asked but a moment of interview , and trusting to my honour, wished to visit me in my camp without a guard . I had only began the career of vengeance, and on this soil, still new to me, my steps were not yet firm . Louis XI. , in misfortune, recalled to my mind the dauphin, a fugitive . His letter drew tears from me ; I thought I could perceive in his touching expressions, grief, repentance, and truth . His reverses afflicted me, his confidence disarmed me ; hypocrisy trium- 188 THE SOLITARY. phed, and my answer to the king was, ' I await thee.' 46 (6 My troops were encamped near Bercy ; the remains ofthe royal army were deployed on the other side of the Seine. The French monarch , in a frail bark, crossed the river ; he landed alone among his enemies : I was not prepared for such a trait of confiding trust. On the shore he advanced to meet me ; my heart beat violently, and in his first glance, I found the dauphin I had so much loved ; it was no longer Louis XI. , it was the dear companion of my youth ; I sprang towards him. 'Whocomes to me ?' said he ; 'thy brother !' I exclaimed , and rushed into his arms. Elodia, never shall I forget that day ; I was still deceived, but I was happy. Louis sported with my credulity, but I was satisfied with myself. I turned from the path of horrors ; I resumed magnanimous sentiments, and recovered the enthusiasm of my youth. The king took advantage of this generous exaltation ; he easily obtained peace, and the treaty of Conflans was signed. The monarch promised my French partizans new possessions and new dignities. The confederation was dissolved ; and brilliantly escorted by the victorious Louis as far as Villiers-le- Bel, I returned to Burgundy. " Alas ! when the warrior's lips have once quaffed the cup ofglory, the thirst of battle becomes indeed insatiable. My successes had given celebrity to my name, and I wished to increase my renown. The inhabitants of Liege threatened Burgundy ; I marched against them and subjected them. Perfidious victory ever accompanied me ; she offered me palms, THE SOLITARY. 189 she promised me crowus, and only opened for me an abyss of perdition. Louis XI. continually violated the treaty of Conflans . Having adroitly sown trouble and division among his enemies' provinces , and among the rival sovereigns , he no longer feared a confederacy ; the torches of discord, kindled by his artifices, and the hatreds fomented by his intrigues , secured him from the danger of a new coalition. Then fearlessly and openly, he showed himself without faith . The French chiefs , to whom, by the treaty of Conflans , he had promised riches and honours, were arrested or banished, and their estates confiscated. My dearest friends were sacrificed. Tristram the Hermit, surnamed the King's Butcher, was the executioner of his vengeance. Louis took pleasure in seeing his victims slaughtered, and Tristram varied the manner of punishment the better to suit his barbarous king. Joining superstition to ferocity, the tyrant commanded crimes ; excited treasons ; abetted assassinations ; then , seemed occupi ed with prayer and pilgrimage, carried crosses and rosaries, and swore on images and relics. The principal families of France, who by ancient services held acquired rights, were degraded ; men who gloried in an unsullied name could not please a despot who only wished for servile instruments. Louis wanted nobles of his own creation, whom he could awe without fear, and at his will return to the dust. The meanest individuals were raised to the highest ranks of the nobility and the first offices of state ; but, (like the pigmy, who placed on an Alpine summit would be elevated, yet not increased in size ,) 17* 190 THE SOLITARY. when placed near the throne, though powerful, they were still abject. Louis XI. pretended to equalize ranks ; he slighted the titled , and trampled on the an. cient dignity of the nobility. Tyrants lower all, to surpass all ; for leveling is the true spirit of despotism, " The states of the Duke of Burgundy swarmed with the emissaries of the son of Charles VII. , and the town of Dinan revolted . My father dispatched me against the rebels, and I besieged their fortress. Proud of being supported by Louis, from whom they expected succour, they insultingly displayed upon the ramparts a shapeless effigy of my father placed in a litter of mud, and cried aloud to the Burgundians, underthe walls of the place ; " The seat ofyour reptile DUKE ?" * " This rebellion, this war, and the horrors committed in France , were the consequences of the treaty of Conflans. Such was the issue of my faithfulness to friendship ; such the recompense of a magnanimous act: -my virtues began to appear to me as weaknesses, and my deeds of generosity unpardonable faults . The town of Dinan still resisted, but its destruction was certain. To inform the revolted city of its situation , I sent instructions by a flag of truce, whom they put to death ; I wrote to them, and sent my letter by a young child whom his youth should have protected ; they pitilessly massacred him. To irritate me into fury, and to force me to crime, every infernal power seemed let loose against me. The rebel town was soon reduced to extremity. Its garrison was hopeless, and its walls were crumbling on every side. I com-

• Historical,

• THE SOLITARY. 191 manded a general assault. Then, but too late , the inhabitants of Dinan perceived the abyss their madness had formed, and they were obliged to surrender at discretion. However, I did not immediately take revenge. I held possession of the fortress, and awaited the decision of myfather. Philip was at Bouvines ; he ordered the destruction of the insurgent town, and signed a death warrant for all the inhabitants. " Then began the horrors and cruelties of my life. I obeyed the orders of my father . Except the old men, women, and children, whom I drove from the subjected place, all the inhabitants of Dinan were massacred. Bound two by two, eight hundred of the principal rebels were thrown into the Meuse ; and the town, given up to the sack and pillage of the soldiery, perished in the flames. " Philip died shortly after this fatal siege, and my accession to the Dukedom of Burgundy was signalized bya dreadful homicide. . . . Maiden of Underlach ! my pen refuses to pursue the horrid recital... You will shudder... Alas I must continue ! none of my crimes should be concealed. " I hastened to Dijon where my father had just been buried. The gold of Louis XI. , and his artful stratagems, had inflamed the minds of the people against me ; whilst, instigated by him, the people of Liege again broke the peace, and, taking up arms, seized upon Huy on the Meuse. I was forced to levy new imposts and assemble new troops ; I was going to recommence war, when I discovered symptoms of revolt in my capital , and even in my army. The Count De Saint- Maur, a general beloved by the soldiery, one day presented himself before me. Stern and 192 THE SOLITARY. almost threatening, he blamed my resolutions, and opposed my project of fighting against the people of Liege.. Yet no war had ever been more just. The enemy who attacked me had twice violated their treaties, had twice broken their oaths, and my anger was justifiable. Exasperated by the perfidy of which I was constantly the victim, I repelled with violence the counsel of Saint-Maur. The Count immediately offered his resignation. ' What !' cried I, as he left me, does he call himself my friend, and in the day of danger abandon me !' 66 Suddenly a loud outcry from the palace- court announced the mutiny of the troops, who were assailing my royal guard. Among the vociferations of the rebels, I distinguished the cry Death to the Tyrant! Long live Saint-Maur !' Accustomed to the treason of friendship , I immediately believed that the Count was another Louis ; I put on my armour, and followed by several knights, hastened to join my defenders. On the stair of the palace I met SaintMaur, who, springing toward me, wished to detain me. ' Leave me, traitor ! ' I exclaimed. -The fatal cry of the revolters rung again in my ears ; my reason was lost ; I saw in the Count , endeavouring to stop me, only an assassin ready to strike. I repulsed him furiously, and pointing out to my warriors, cried, Behold the chief of the conspiracy !' C " Saint-Maur was instantly surrounded and stabbed by my barbarous minions. Sycophant courtiers zealous for crime, and feigning to serve their prince and country, were impatient to immolate the chief whose austere morality they hated. Elodia ! your unfortu THE SOLITARY. 193 nate father fell dead at my feet ; but, at least , I can take Heaven to witness that my hand was not imbrued in his blood. " I appeared in the midst of the rebels ; I fought andI conquered ; but murder had preceded victory. Forced to justify the death of Saint-Maur in the eyes of my court, I , although far from certain that he had deceived me, attainted his memory by an infamous decree. All his wealth was confiscated and torn from his family, and his unhappy widow retired to a distant solitude to hide the remainder of her days. " The people of Liege, who were assembled to the number of thirty thousand, still threatened my provinces. I marched at length against these daring aggressors , and obtained complete success. The town My of Santron fell into my power ; Tongres surrendered at discretion ; but every where I tarnished my glory by the enormity of my vengeance . I returned to my capital it was perfectly peaceful ; I had stifled sedition and subjugated my enemies, and brilliant expres. sions of joy and delight awaited the conqueror. people rejoiced at my return. I collected around me a splendid court, renowned for its gayety and pleasures. I again saw Irena, and the beautiful heiress of Aroville resumed over me her former influence. Elodia ! dare I proceed !. I surrounded the daughter of Herstall with all the seductions of love and glory ; I promised to lead her to the altar as soon as political events permitted me; I swore eternal constancy ; Irena believed my oaths, and flying from paternal protection, confidingly trusted herself to me in a distant castle of Burgundy. .. 194 THE SOLITARY. 1 "Every day I heard of some new treachery of Louis , who, assembling at Tours his deputies, prelates and warriors, juridically annulled the treaty of Conflans, as having been forced from him by violence and rebellion. Edward, king of England, offered to join his forces to mine against the perjured monarch, and at the same time, tendered me the hand of his sister, Margaret of York. Love forbade this brilliant marriage ; but the interest of my people made it necessary. Policy and ambition spoke imperiously, and Irena was sacrificed. I hastened to meet the English Princess, and the marriage was consummated in the church ofDam. "A few days after the nuptial ceremony, I secretly withdrew, and hurried to the castle inhabited by Irena. Notwithstanding the precautions I had taken to hide from her the intelligence of my faithlessness, the heiress of Aroville had discovered every thing, and the same night had disappeared. Mygrief was deep, but my search was useless, and the fate of Irena remained buried in impenetrable mystery. A 66 At the news of the decree of the assembly of Tours, I declared war against Louis. Leading my victorious troops in person, I crossed the frontiers of his kingdom, and commenced hostilities. The French camp was before me ; it was filled with terror, and a battle would have been decisive . Will Elodia believe me! the son of Charles VII, fearful of the issue of the contest, wrote again a letter ofamity to his ancient friend ; asked anew a private interview, at Peronne, a town in the power of the Burgundians ; and Charles had again the weakness to consent to listen to him, THE SOLITARY. 195 Louis XI. left his army, and came to me unarmed and without an escort ; with irresistible art he began to justify his treasons, his perjuries and his murders, when a courier brought me news of the sudden revolt of Liege, whose inhabitants were bribed by France ; so that the same day he had written to me to implore the grantedinterview, by an equally pressing despatch, he had raised Westphalia against me. 66 My rage was unbounded. Louis was in my power, and I overwhelmed him with the whole weight of my indignation ; I poured upon him a torrent of outrageous names, and injurious epithets, and even threatened his life. In vain Louis protested his innocence- in vain he swore that far from having armed the people of Liege, he was ready to march in person against them, -nothing could moderate the violence of my impetuous anger. I detained the monarch as a captive, and left him to remorse. Several days passed. From the windows of his prison , Louis XI. saw the terrible tower where the Count Herbert de Vermandois , in 928 , enclosed Charles the Simple, who there lost his crown and life ; and his soul, by turns , was rent by mortification , terror and despair. I had it in my power to overturn his throne , and crown one of his brothers or place the diadem upon my own head. My past triumphs, my power, and my name, permitted such an enterprize, and insured my success At that time, a word from me could change the face of Europe. Engaged in the vortex of crime, could I endeavour to recede ! .... It were easy for me, in taking possession of the states of my captive, to justify the chastisement of 196 THE SOLITARY. Louis XI., by his perfidies, and ny usurpation by glory. France would have admired the bold conqueror, and the stains of treachery would have disappeared under the palms of victory. Strongly assailed by such wishes, I yet dared to struggle against the powers ofiniquity that were gradually subduing my soul. A protecting ray from Heaven, for the last time, shone on the unfortunate Charles : I rushed into the apartment where the trembling monarch awaited his sentence. "Is your remorse sincere ?" I exclaimed ; " is it true that you did not arm the Westphalians ? is it true, that, disposed to follow me, you are ready to fight against them ?" My voice was stern, my eyes fierce, and my gestures threatening ; clemency was in my heart, but rage was on my brow. The astonished Louis XI. pronounced all the oaths I required. Peace was sworn on the cross of Charlemagne, and the king of France marched in my suite , against the people of Liege . Like an humble vassal , he carried my standard, and fought under my banners : myarmy, after several successes , arrived triumphantly at the walls of Liege. "At this period, among the heroes of Burgundy, I remarked young Egbert. Inspired with the thirst of glory, his brow had been shaded with laurels wherever he had fought. Egbert seemed to me worthy of being my brother in arms. -1 placed him near my person-I loaded him with distinctions , and named him Count de Norendall. He admired my valour, and his friendship was His heart devoted was as pure, as his imagination was ardent ; he soon perceived that I loved him, and from that moment, THE SOLITARY. 197 his attachment to his prince became a sort of idolatry. " On the banks of the Meuse the guilty Charles received the first punishment he was to suffer. Not far from the walls of the besieged town, I was crossing a thick forest, accompanied by Egbert and a few of my cavaliers ; darkest night shrouded the earth ; wandering from my way, I perceived at a distance through the fir trees a light, to which I directed my steps ; it led me to an ancient building. I asked the hospitality of a few hours, and was received. No master, they said, occupied the dwelling, yet zealous servants lavished upon us the most eager attentions. I was conducted to a vast and gloomy apartment. Overcome by weariness, I threw myself, armed as I was, upon the bed, and restoring sleep soon closed my heavy eyelids. "Suddenly, a slight noise awoke me, and by the glimmering of the sinking light, I perceived the gloomy arras of the mysterious apartment shaken before me ; by a private opening in it, a white and veiled figure started from the obscurity of the dusky tapestry. With a light in her hand, the unknown stranger advanced towards me from the end ofthe antique hall, silently, and like a wandering vapour. Her bare arms of dazzling white seemed transparent as the opal of Arabia ; her long black hair floated in disorder ; her pale and colourless face covered with a light gauze ; the stillness, and the slowness of her movements, gave her the aspect of an imaginary being. Her airy form would have charmed my eyes, if something vague and supernatural had not reminded VOL. II. 18 198 THE SOLITARY. me of the grave. Laying on my burning hand her own, cold and chill, she raised her veil, and holding the light to her face , showed me, under features wasted by grief, the fearful remains of celestial beauty. 'Recognize ifthou canst, ' said she to me, 'the young, the beautiful, the splendid heiress of Aroville ! See what thou hast made of me ! .... Behold thy work !' " " Irena ! ' I cried, and sprang towards her. Follow me, ' said the unfortunate, and towards the secret passage she fled like the buoyant bubble, caught by the wind.

" Without remarking whither I went, I hastily followed ; and soon, in a vast rotunda, hung with black, and illumined by funereal tapers, I saw her stop before a sarcophagus, surmounted by the canopy of death . By the dim light of the tapers, I gazed upon Irena how startling the change ! Her heart scarcely seemed to palpitate ; her pallid brow bore the expression of madness ; her white lips were motionless and inanimate ; I had almost said that her blood did not circulate ; not a breath seemed to heave her bosom ; her eyes were fixed, and her clear and steady glance had nothing of earth or heaven. The daughter of Herstall smiled bitterly. Raising the pall she exclaimed, It is not the nuptial bed of thy wife, but the happy cradle of thy son.' And I perceived upon the bier, the corpse of a child. He sleeps ,' said Irena. Young and noble son of Burgundy ! health and peace to thy innocence !' Then looking at me with a convulsive laugh- is it not true, Charles ,' said she, he sleeps ! Ah ! he does not deceive ! Dismayed and aghast, I screamed and fell at the feet " " THE SOLITARY. 199 of my victim . ' Barbarous man !' cried Irena, ' he has awakened his son. Monster ! will not the mother suffice ? The tapers were extinguished by her overthrowing the sarcophagus, and she disappeared in the gloom. " Like Danaus, pursued by the Eumenides, in the depths of Tartarus, I uttered the most piercing shrieks -I sought Irena-I ran at random through the dark galleries, and, at length , fell exhausted and senseless in a distant passage. "When I came to myself, I found that I was in the midst ofmy cavaliers, with Egbert by my side. They had been attracted by my cries , but none ofthem had entered the funereal rotunda, and the accident of the night remained a mystery to them. "Dawn came, and a hasty courier announced to me that a sortie of the inhabitants of Liege had carried consternation into the camp of the Burgundians. I left the fatal abode, and hastened to meet death in the field of battle . Three days after, the unfortunate daughter of Herstall was no more.

" Under the ramparts of Liege I ordered a general assault. I was one of the first that entered the breach all fled or fell before me, and the cruel Charles, bewildered by fury and despair, gave to the terrified world, the spectacle of the massacre of a whole people who had taken refuge in their churches, the conflagration of an immense city, imploring the pity of the conqueror, and the total overthrow of a country whose fields were left deluged with blood, and covered with ruins. 200 THE SOLITARY. " The son of Charles VII. , during these horrid scenes of carnage, while the steel of my Burgundians slaughtered the wretched beings whose revolt he had caused, and to whom he had promised succour, Louis XI. , concealing his mortification and regret, dined peaceably by the light ofthe volumes of flame from the burning city, and listening to the despairing shrieks of his victims, boasted of the glory of that dreadful day. " The captive monarch then claimed his liberty, which I thought it my duty to restore. He took the road to his capital, and by new barbarities signalized his return to power. His dearest favourite La Balue, who from a miller's boy had become bishop and cardinal, was arrested by his order, and confined in an iron cage four feet square, placed in the middle of a tower, where he lingered eleven years, wishing for death to terminate his sufferings. Pursuing the course of his vengeance, Louis had the Count D'Armagnac assassinated, his Countess inhumanly murdered, and the most powerful noblemen of his kingdom put to death, in the most barbarous and ignominious manner. " Oh, extreme of perfidy ! the king of France, whom I had so often , pardoned, convoked another assembly, and summoned me to appear as a traitor and felon, and then by a degrading decree of his court of Peers , declared me attainted and convicted of high treason. Louis XI. had then an imposing army at hand, and I had disbanded my troops ; in the depth ofwinter my states were invaded bythe French. I took up arms, and repulsed my enemies ; the tri- THE SOLITARY. 201 umph was mine, and I marched toward Picardy. Edward king of England, and the faithful ally of the Burgundians, prepared to disembark at that place. The Duke De Guienne, unworthily treated by his brother Louis XI. , sent me word that he was ready to join me against the common enemy, and his troops marched for Paris. Several other princes, deceived and duped by Charles VII. , enlarged my new confederacy. Louis seemed irrecoverably lost-Heaven, or rather Hell, assisted him. A poisoned peach was presented to the Duke De Guienne, who expired in the most dreadful agonies. All Europe accused Louis of this base fratricide ; he feigned the deepest affliction , made his devotions in public, and on this account instituted the Angelus. * " At this period I had united to Burgundy the Earldom of Ferrete, and Alsace ; I had also joined to it the Earldoms of Macon, Auxerre, Artois, the Duchies of Guelderland and Zutphen, . . several towns on the Somme ; and I had become one ofthe most powerful princes on the continent. Flanders and Holland belonged to me ; I had greatly enlarged my territory on the side ofGermany, and I coveted Lorraine . 66 Margaret of York was no more ; I had but one child, and Mary was sole heiress of my vast possessions. The Emperor Frederic had asked the hand of the infant Mary for his son, and to obtain this union, he by flattering my ambition , engaged me to undertake the conquest of Lorraine. By a secret treaty, he promised to erect my states into a kingdom,

• The Duke De Guienne died at sunset.

18* 202 THE SOLITARY. to place the diadem upon my head, and proclaim me king of Belgic Gaul. " Enticed by these expectations , I consented to the desired marriage . The death ofthe Duke De Guienne dissolved the coalition formed against Louis XI. , and I left Picardy. At the instigation of the son of Charles VII., the Duke of Lorraine threatened my frontiers ; I turned upon him, and subduing his whole province, besieged Nancy, his capital. The king of France, in arming René, had sworn to second and defend him in person. The promise was an idle one , neither Louis nor his troops appeared to give succour, and I entered Nancy triumphantly." " What is the destruction of a conqueror ? A succession of prosperity ! Crowned with victory, I thought myself invincible ; I took Hannibal for my model, and like him attempted the passage of the Alps ; I saw myself already master of Italy, a part of France, and the south ofGermany. "My coronation, as king of Belgic Gaul, was to take place at Treves, and the Emperor Frederic expected me there. In my way to that city, I made arrangements to seize upon a portion of Helvetia. Accompanied by a magnificent escort, with my sceptre and diadem ready, I set out ; but the Swiss cantons, informed ofmy projects , sent several deputies to implore my justice. " What do you expect to gain in our sterile country ?" said they to me. " All our assembled riches are not worth the bridles of your chargers, or the spurs of your knights. " " Their entreaties were useless, and I reached the gates ofGranson. They opposed me vigorously, bat THE SOLITARY. 203 Iovercame their resistance, and the townsurrendered at discretion. Alas ! in the frenzy of victory, Charles, then surnamed the Bold, hung the half of the inhabitants, and precipitated the rest into the lake of Neufchatel. But far from terrifying or subjecting the Swiss, as I had expected, this act of barbarity excited all Helvetia. The mountaineers,' they told me, ' are advancing, instigated by the desire of revenge. ' They are not so foolish,' I replied. Then, instead of awaiting them in the plain, where the cavalry alone could have utterly destroyed them, I continued my marchthrough the midst of the Alps, and plunged into the narrowest defiles . I advanced with blind confidence into a deep ravine, enclosed by high rocks almost perpendicular. Of a sudden, on the summit of those threatening cliffs, appeared the mountaineers. They overwhelmed their enemies with a shower of arrows, hurled upon them pieces of rocks, and threw the first ranks of the army into disorder and confu sion. The Burgundians wished to clear the defile by a rapid movement ; a heavy and large iron chain,* placed across the passage , and crushed into the granite, arrested the unhappy wretches from all the heights, and vanquished without power to resist. Horse and man were overthrown ; a heap of dead bodies blocked up the defile ; consternation filled every mind ; the voice of the chiefs was disregarded, the troops lost all discipine, disasters increased, and the rout was general.

• This chain still exists, and the Swiss proudly show it to

travellers. 204 THE SOLITARY.

"Mytents, artillery, baggage, treasures, sceptre, mantle, and crown, fell into the hands of the mountaineers. The masters of riches, ofthe value of which they had no idea, they took silver for tin, and sold for a trifle the precious stuffs and sumptuous dresses which they did not divide. One of my diamonds, taken for glass , was sold to a priest of the country for one florin.t " Twice in that fatal day I saved the life of Egbert. Towards nightfall I found myself separated from him, and abandoned by all my suite, and fled alone across the mountains the hero of Burgundy, the terror of France, and the man of victories, wandered , unaided and wounded, and fell inanimate at the foot of a druid oak, on an enemy's soil, and by an unknown torrent.

I already " How shall I express my despair ! My triumphs I could not but know had excited the envy of every rival prince. They admired and hated me. Humbled and compelled to yield, I thought I could hear the ery ofjoy from all Europe ring in my ears. saw the sycophant adulators of my fortune unite to overwhelm the fallen conqueror. Rolling myself in phrenzy to the foot of an isolated rock, I called aloud for death, and vented my rage in blasphemies. Suddenly a thick mist filled the air, the sky was obscured , and my mind wandered ; the water of the torrent seemed blood, the branches of the forest appeared

• The tapestry of the tent of Charles the Bold, when defeated

in Switzerland, is still preserved at Berne. It is a curious specimen of the workmanship of the fifteenth century. It is nowthe second diamond ofthe crown of France, and valued at $400,000. THE SOLITARY. 205 b 1 poignards suspended over my head ; in place of rocks and crags I saw heaps of dead ; the reedy grass pictured to my mind flames darting from the abyss ofwo ; and like Prometheus on Caucasus, I expected the. devouring vulture. " A bluish vapour is collected and condensed on the edge ofthe torrent ; the night wind agitates it ; it spreads and raises the shapeless cloud, and an unseen sculptor forms the vapour into a gigantic skeleton. At the dread aspect of the apparition a cry of horror breaks from the forest ; the bloody wave boils, and lightnings sparkle in the skies. Charles ! ' cries the spectre, thy reign is past ! From reverse to reverse, from chastisement to chastisement, from abyss to abyss, thou shalt roll, even to the tomb.'- " It spoke thus, and burst in thunder ; the cloud was rent, and my affrighting vision had disappeared. "At the news ofmy defeat, Louis gave himself up to the most immoderate transports ofjoy. The young Duke ofLorraine was at his court ; he furnished him with troops, and René set out for Nancy. French emissaries, disguised as monks, came to Switzerland, and on all sides preached a crusade against the Burgundians, till the whole population of Helvetia were armed at the watchword offanaticism and liberty. Did I think then on defending myself? did I hasten to rally my soldiers ? did I resume my bold energy ? No ! the terrific apparition of the torrent had entirely changed my being. Pallid, my eyes haggard, gnawed by remorse, and stamped with the zeal of divine reprobation, I formed no plans, I had no thought ; I remained whole hours motionless, without a word 206 THE SOLITARY. and without recollection- suddenly like a burning mountain, I burst from mydeep repose to pour out a torrent of imprecations, the fiery lava of delirium. " In one ofthese excesses of distraction, rejecting the counsel of all my knights, notwithstanding the advantageous position of the Swiss troops, and the immense superiority oftheir numbers, I would fight , - and the remainder of my army perished on the borders of Morat Lake. There, the bones of my unfortunate Burgundians were erected into an awful monument, to attest to future ages my rage and madness. " As victories follow a first victory, so disasters follow a first disaster. I could easily have yet saved the remainder of my army, and preserved a part of myconquests. Mypresence, my valour, and myname, were still enough to awe the earth, Europe, knowing my audacity, expected a vigorous effort ofgenius, but I was inactive, and plunged into all the stupor of annihilation . One would have said that I attached a species of glory to showing myself as incomprehensible in reverse as in success ; or might have believed, that as proud of my calamities as I had been of my triumphs, and placing the sublime in exaggeration, I desired the depth of humiliation as much as I had courted the height of power. " Aided by the King of France, the Duke of Lorraine reconquered Nancy. The news reached me, and I immediately left Helvetia. I had allowed my hair and my beard to grow, and like Nebuchadonezzar, I had sunk from the dignity of man to the state of a wild animal ; I threw around me fierce looks, and spoke rudely. Egbert, and a few valiant war- THE SOLITARY. 207 riors remained faithful to me, and I still had several battalions at command ; the butcher of his kind completed his career by leading the remnant of his defenders to death. I madly hurried to Nancy, in the midst of a rigorous winter, through whirlwinds of snow impelled by a freezing wind. My troops were wearied, and few in number ; the Duke of Lorraine possessed an imposing array of untired soldiers. I gave battle to René under the walls of Nancy. The success of the day was not long doubtful. Secure from the high ramparts, the Lorrainese overthrew the Burgundians ; the staggering chargers reeled upon the icy plain ; the besieging knights, armed in steel, and benumbed with cold, were unable to rise. I myself fell, covered with wounds, and under the ice of a pond -Charles the Bold disappeared. My leath was immediately proclaimed. Those Burgundians who escaped the sword submitted as prisoners. The Duke René of Lorraine re-entered his capital, and among the dead on the battle plain, vainly sought for the famous Charles of Burgundy.* " But a page had saved my life ; at the time I fell, night began to close around, and the cause of the Burgundians was lost. The young page wished to hide my remains from the conquerors ; and alone, by favour ofthe darkness, transported me to a hut in the neighbouring forest ; I revived in the course of a few hours. Like one awakening from a long lethargy, and whose recollection is effaced, I gazed fixedly on my deliverer, who, seated at my bedside , See Anquetil and other historians. 208 THE SOLITARY. เ was anxiously awaiting my return to life. I questioned him calmly ; my memory returned by degrees, and I listened without emotion to the narration of my last defeat ; then suddenly grasping the hand of my page,― Swear, ' I exclaimed, to execute faithfully the orders I am about to give thee !' He pronounced the oath, and I continued thus ; René believes me dead, thou sayest ; I would wish to be soto the whole world; my resolution is irrevocably taken. Degraded as he is , Charles the Bold never will appear again in the presence of nations. Return before dawn to the field of battle , select from among the dead the warrior whose stature the most resembles mine ; clothe him in my vestments, disfigure his features, and cover him with wounds ; drag him under the ice of the pond from which thou didst take me, and point out the spot to the conqueror. ' " The faithful page obeyed me exactly ; the Lorrainese Prince gave magnificent obsequies to the unknown soldier who represented Charles of Burgundy, and all the earth was to believe in my death. 66 My wounds were soon healed, and I resolved to bury my existence in the depth of the most impene. trable solitude. Rejecting fatal greatness, and escaping from the agony of showing my dishonoured head upon the face of the world, I only regretted my daughter whom I never expected again to see. I was certain that Louis XI . would respect the Heiress of Burgundy, as he wished to unite her to the Dauphin. The son ofthe Emperor of Germany besides, was interested in defending her against any enemy. I was therefore tranquil as to the fate of Mary ; my disap- THE SOLITARY. 209 pearance restored peace to Europe ; the Princes who were my rivals , would have persecuted the guilty conqueror, but they could not honourably attack the innocent orphan ; therefore, by banishing myself, I saved Burgundy and my daughter. Thus the sacrifice of my own feelings offered something generous and magnanimous, and with transport I hailed the spark of goodness. My page renewed his oath of never betraying my secret ; and concealing my face from every eye, I departed alone for Helvetia. * " I stopped near Morat Lake, and saw the Switzers occupied in constructing the famous Chapel of Bones, and I turned away my head with horror. The Wild Mountain was before me ; it had been rendered formidable of access , to the vulgar, by affrighting traditions ; this place seemed to suit him who wished to fly mankind ; an old anchorite had dwelt there ; I took possession of his abandoned dwelling, and by a few illusions which appeared supernatural to the ignorant mountaineers, I made the hermitage of the Solitary inaccessible , and more formidable than ever. "Resolving, if it were possible, to disarm divine angerby repentance and self-mortification , I designedly chose for my land of exile, the theatre of my last crimes. From my isolated abode, I perceived the Lake of Neufchatel, and the Charnel of Morat ; and

• The States of Burgundy refused to believe the death of Charles the Bold. " The people doubted for a long time ofthe

death of Charles. Some said that he had turned hermit ; others that he had gone to Jerusalem. This opinion was by some upheld so strongly, that they lent money to be restored at the return ofthat Prince. " Duclos' History ofLouis XI. vol. iii. p. 66. Vol. I. 19 210 THE SOLITARY. near me was the Terrific Peak, where my barbarous troops, in passing through Switzerland , had massacred the monks of Underlach ; -this rock was continually before my eyes like a threatening phantom. Alone, but surrounded by accusers andjudges, I would kneel beside the hermitage, and recalling my deeds to mind, ask pardon of man, and mercy from Heaven : but Heaven disclaimed my prayer, and no ray of hope, shone on the mountain. Oh ! where were the happy days of my youth, when my thoughts would rise to Heaven, and descend brilliant and pure as the angelic legions in the patriarch Jacob's dream ! "I had brought with me some of my former wealth , and spread it among the poor of the district , in relieving their wants ; I assisted the indigent, and solaced the unhappy. They blest the Solitary , and he cursed himself; the consoler of Underlach bore an inconsoJable heart, and his return to virtue was too tardy to be a return to happiness. "Wherever I turned my steps , among the huts of the valley, I heard the name of Elodia repeated by gratitude and admiration. I wished to see this Dove ofthe Monastery, so much beloved by the mountaineers ; I secretly followed your steps ; I saw you , and love, as another vengeance of Heaven, came to add one more sorrow to the sorrows of my life. I felt that I loved for the first time. Irena had charmed me by her beauty, but she had never inspired that fervent love, that pious respect, that passionate worship, which Elodia alone was destined to make me know. I long wandered about your path without daring to show myself. In the pavilion of the park, I one evening took THE SOLITARY. 211 possession of your girdle , and wild with joy returned to my solitude as if I had found the talisman of virtue ; I pressed it to my heart .... Alas ! like scorching flame it consumed me anew. I took the resolution to restore the fatal girdle ; I was determined to do so by the desire of aproaching and speaking to you. I should have seemed distracted --- I should rather have startled you ; and yet I saw you melted to pity, when, in the gallery of the chapel , I pointed to the sky, and addressed to you those strange words.--- There if repentance close the abyss, there and there only can he say, Ilove thee.' " This interview completely bewildered my reason. Who ? I , adore the daughter of Saint-Maur ! I turned from my recollections with horror, and seemed to myself more hideous than ever. Charles the Bold, ga zing in turn at the Terrific Peak, the Lake of Neufchatel, and the Charnel of Morat, would exclaim as he threw himself desperately on the heath of the barren hills, or within the caves of the forest- Monster, wouldst thou have another victim !' "Fearful that my impure breath would sully the abode ofElodia, I ceased to visit the monastery, where the Count De Norendall soon arrived. Among his warriors was the page to whom I owed my life ; he knew my retreat, he secretly came to me, and through him I learned the projected marriage of Egbert with the Princess of Lorraine. 66 The friend of René became enamoured of the charms ofElodia, and remained in the valley of Underlach ; I charged Marceline to inform you of the first engagements of the Count De Norendall ; and it was 212 THE SOLITARY. by my faithful page, that I learnt ofEgbert's proposals and of your refusal-of his departure, and his plan to carry you away by force. "Elodia ! what must have been your surprise , when, on the bridge of the torrent, the Count De Norendall recognized Charles the Bold, and taking him for a spectre, knelt, with suppliant hands extended to his brother in arms ! Oh never will our interview on the Wild Mountain be effaced from my memory! I knew the enthusiastic disposition of Egbert, and did not doubt of the wonderful effect my appearing to him would produce. Twice in the field of battle I had saved his life ; I knew that at my very name his tears still flowed ; I knew that he excused my crimes, and only recollected my good qualities ; and I was sure that his devotion to the Duke of Burgundy in his glory, would revive no less ardent for the unfortunate Solitary. No expression can paint the joyful transports of the noble Egbert, when in my cabin on the Wild Mountain, I pressed him to my heart. With the most implicit confidence of friendship, I acknowledged to him my love for the orphan of the abbey ; I saw his tears flow .... And I had the courage to exact from him the most painful of sacrifices ! -The magnanimous Egbert fell at my feet. Oh my Prince !' cried the generous warrior, ' oh friend ! may Elodia be the consoling angel of thy lone exile ! No, I will not snatch from thee the last stay of thy hope ..... Charles, I swear never to divulge thy secrets , I will fly Elodia forever . To thee I sacrifice love, marriage, peace, and happiness." .... my ( " At these words he escaped from my grasp, and I never again saw my unhappy friend till I saved his life THE SOLITARY. 213 on the Terrific Peak. The Count De Norendall was true to his oath, but my soul was doubly rent by remorse. I felt myself unworthy to be the husband of Elodia, and I had now destroyed a union, which doubtless would have made her happy ; the young, the valiant, the honourable Egbert, alone deserved the maid ofUnderlach. " I was seated in my retired hermitage, when my door was unexpectedly thrown open and Herstall entered. 6 Is it you ?' I exclaimed. A ray of light fell on my features ; the old man gave a shriek of horror, for he recognized Charles the Bold. 6 " I threw myself at his feet. Herstall ! ' I cried , ' allow forgiveness to misfortune, to repentance, to despair ; or take this steel and be revenged !' Herstall repulsed me indignantly, Thou murderer of my brother !' said the old man with energy, assassin of my Irena ! butcher of all my family ! who ! I , pardon thee ! ... never !' " He fell back aghast on one of the seats of the cabin. ' Inexorable man !' said I with a trembling voice, and stretching my hands to him in supplication, ⚫ canst thou discover Charles the Bold, the ferocious, the proud, the inflexible Burgundian, in the selfbanished wretch prostrate at thy feet and embracing thy knees ! Monster ! begone !' said Herstall vehemently, and precipitately rising, thou speakest of remorse , and thou meditatest new crimes . Thinkest thou I do not know it ?-thou wouldst seduce Elodia. Barbarian ! between her and thee arise the cold tomb of Irena and the bloody shade of Saint- Maur. ' Herstall !' cried I'spare me ! in pity. ' Fury spark6 19* 214 THE SOLITARY. " led in his eyes, and he interrupted my intreaties. I hear,' said he , the voice of thy victims. . . . . They call to me, Revenge ! Thou man of blood ! what is thy remorse to me ! thou shalt find no pity ! may the curses of Heaven, like mine, follow thee to thy last hour! and may the horrors of thy death equal the crimes of thy life !' "Herstall was gone ; -I remained stupefied as if stunned by thunder. The last words of the old man rung through my ears like the condemnation of divine anger. From that moment I felt lost without a hope, a reprobate for ever, and would have destroyed myself, had not my arm been deprived of strength, and my soul of volition. In this awful situation, the foretaste of hell , I remained a whole week. Then I heard of the death of Herstall, and I trembled lest Elodia should suspect me of having attempted his life. I penetrated into the park of the monastery, and, such are the strange contradictions of destiny, on the tomb of the old man who had cursed me, the first dawn of hope shone to my eyes, and I knew that I was loved. The contest was But how transient was that gleam of happiness ! I felt the horror of my state, and the dreadful fate I was preparing for innocence . The malediction of Herstall returned to my mind. strong between love and duty, but my generous sentiments rose superior. I gave you a last farewell, and hastened far from the Wild Mountain to seek another land of exile and grief. "I was informed of the intrigues of the conspira-

• tor Palzo, and foresaw the perils which threatened

THE SOLITARY. 215 you ; long before the beacon lantern shone on the tower, I had prepared to defeat the infamous projects of the chief of the rebels. Through Egbert, I informed the court of Lorraine of the plots at Underlach, and when I saw you in the cha pel, I knew that the Count De Norendall was already on his way from Nancy to your aid. " Oh ! too dear Elodia ! I came to you firmly decided not to speak one word of love ; but in your presence all my resolutions vanished like a dream ; in vain I turned my stern brow from your sight, I heard your sweet voice, and you saw me at your feet. " The Prince De Palzo was arrested, and you determined to accompany the Countess. From the heights of the Wild Mountain I marked the escort that bore from me more than life disappearing among the passes, and I thought I felt death pass through my heart, like the cold steel of a poignard. "The day previous, hidden in a deep cave, near the torrent of Underlach, I had terrified Palzo by a prophetic song. The day of your departure, I had discovered the plan formed by the rebels to deliver their captive chief. To save the troops of Egbert, inferior in number to the armed mountaineers, I reached, before you, the Terrific Peak. In the cavernous recesses of the rock, I hid resinous wood, ·combustible materials, and a quantity of sulphur, bitumen, and compressed powder. In the midst of the attack of the rebels, a violent detonation announced to the credulous mountaineers the terrible apparition of the Bleeding Phantom Clothed in a crimson man- 216 THE SOLITARY. tle, and starting through the flames, I confounded the insurgent troops, immolated the perfidious Palzo, and snatched Egbert from death. "Maiden of Underlach ! when bearing you, swooning, away, I carried you to the Wild Mountain, and pressed you in my arms, intoxicated with joy and love,-heaven appeared to open above me. . . . The night breeze wafted to my ear accents of peace and love ; I tasted with delight the clear and pure air of the forest ; I thought myself reconciled with all nature . Innocence reposed upon my bosom ; its touch seemed to have restored purity to my soul ; the recollection of my crimes fled , like an ancient chaos surprised by a new dawn. My impassioned soul saw every virtue reviving into hope. Glory, wealth, thrones, and power, how contemptible ye appeared in the eye of the mountain exile ! He possessed more than you ; more than all the splendours of existence ; he believed himself absolved by heaven, and had found his God. " My eyes, gratefully raised to the azure vault, no longer plead for mercy, nor blasphemed, nor doubted more ; for the first time, since my days of innocence, I thanked the Supreme Judge, and blessed divine goodness. Heaven had just confided Elodia to me; and, like the dove of the ark announcing to man the end of celestial wrath, she seemed to offer me the branch of clemency reflourishing upon the purified earth . " You returned to life, you accepted my asylumhow happy was that day to me ; but, oh ! what a night succeeded ! Reclining against the door of the sa- THE SOLITARY. 217 cred precincts where my Elodia reposed , my senses were steeped in the softest slumber, when suddenly, in a dream, the spectre of the torrent re-appeared ; his brow was encircled with an ensanguined crown, patches of tattered purple covered his livid form, and serpents gnawed his heart. ' Charles !' said the spectre to me, ' heaven is appeased ; thy penitence has disarmed its justice ; but, to be wholly absolved, thou must obey the command I impose. It is only under the charnel of Morat, surrounded by all the recollections ofthy life, at the monument of crime and death, that thou shalt reveal thy name to the Orphan of Underlach ; the Almighty commands thee-obey ! “ At so dreadful a sentence, I screamed with grief, and implored the pity ofthe spectre ; it repulsed me and vanished. I awoke my mind bewildered, my limbs bathed in a cold sweat, and my hair erect with horror. Thrice, notwithstanding my efforts, sleep closed my lids, and thrice the dream was repeated. I could not doubt that it was the mandate of heaven. The day of my first reverse the spectre of the tor◄ rent had not deceived me in foretelling a succession of calamities. Now, it promised the pardon of hea ven, if I executed the express command. Heavenly clemency was worth any sacrifice , however cruel ; I resigned myself, and obeyed. “ I now pause—I have finished the afflicting narrative. Have I yet drank to the dregs the cup of sorrow? Daughter of Saint-Maur, I await your sentence. Whatever it may be, pronounce it fearlessly ; I swear that no complaint, no reproach, shall reach you, from the unfortunate of the Wild Mountain. If 218 THE SOLITARY. Charles be condemned, you shall never see him again ;-if he be forgiven .... Oh ! Elodia ! I dare not dwell on such a thought. Should I expect happiness ! ....That Heaven might grant pardon, I could hope ; but a reward ! how dare I desire it ! "Like the criminal destined to the scaffold, every moment I shudder involuntarily . It seems to me, that a blow more severe than any yet given, an anathema more deep than even Herstall's , is about to strike my proscribed head. If my presentiments be fulfilled, if your heart relinquish mine, farewell, angelic maid ; farewell, dear Elodia ! I will go, submissive and resigned. Perhaps the Power that separated us upon earth, will unite us in heaven. Oh ! let me not lose so sweet a thought ! Sustained by it, I shall joyfully descend to the silent grave which awaits me, and over which no tear of pity will be shed .... Farewell, consoling light to repentance and grief! virgin flower, whose celestial odour I for a moment inhaled, but whose purity, at least no breath of mine has sullied ! Sweet apparition from diviner regions ! Hope, love and happiness .... Farewell," THE SOLITARY, 219 ... CHAPTER XII. THE maid of Underlach finished reading the manuscript. Notwithstanding his faults, how great he appeared to her that Prince before whom the world had trembled-that prince who had spurned the world! What errors and remorse ! What crimes and expiations ! How he interested her-how wonderful he seemed that hero of Burgundy, self banished, repentant, and forgetting all the earth ! .... Charles, clothed with the purple, a conqueror and victorious, was only a fortunate prince ; but Charles on the desert mountain, voluntarily despoiled of all his greatness, sunk tothe lowest degree ofhumiliation , and enduring life, appeared to her above human nature. What was Elodia to answer to the unfortunate, being who implored her pity ? Abandoned by the whole world, shall Charles be repulsed by the only one for whom he yet clings to existence ? .... Shall the anger of Heaven be appeased, and Elodia be more inflexible than heaven ? Shall she replunge him into despair and perdition, when the Almighty recalls him to celestial paths ? No ; her resolution was taken-the orphan of the abbey could not be-ought not to be, other than an angel of peace and pardon ; a special Providence appeared to have selected her for the consolation of the penitent, to strengthen him in the way of virtue, and to lead him to happiness and repose. 220 THE SOLITARY. With a steady hand, and as if fulfilling a sacred duty, the unhesitating Maid of Underlach wrote these few lines, which she hastened to deposit in the hollow of the old willow, at the foot of the mountain path. " You have indeed been faulty ; but the clemency of Heaven is greater than the crimes of man. Oh! may it be true, that I am the judge assigned for your final sentence ! Charles, the voice of youth and innocence is too gentle and forbearing, to speak in condemnation .... The reed were a frail weapon ; and never was maiden invested with missions, save of peace. To me, your confessions have changed all your being ; but they have not changed my heart. I have read, I have wept, and I have-pardoned . " The orphan impatiently counted the moments. Proud of having become the sole stay of the celebrated Prince of Burgundy, and of being all in all to the conquering hero, to whom once the vanquished earth would not have been sufficient, she enjoyed in anticipation the transport her letter would occasion. Her pure spirit, happy in the thought of having restored peace to another, made a virtue of its love, and a duty of its happiness. She thought the forgiveness she had pronounced, a divine inspiration ; and the future , coloured like a magic picture, opened to her view, decked with all the illusions of youth, enthusiasm, and love. But already the Solitary was by her side. Charles was with Elodia. How sweet are the first acknowledgments of mutual love ! The orphan told all her heart, and the happy Duke of Burgundy feared only the excess of felicity. Alas ! THE SOLITARY. 221 too often here below, the extremes of joy and grief approach each other. The hermitage, the forest, the rocks, every thing disappeared from their eyes. They were no longer upon earth, they were not yet in heaven, but wandered through those enchanting regions, where in imagination, for a few fleeting moments, ascend the happy lovers, whom destiny has united. Every plan of Charles was approved by the orphan . The Duke of Burgundy was to remain in concealment ; he was to live on the Wild Mountain, and his bride should be with him. The hut was to be rebuilt ; love, the charmer of nature, was to preside over their labour ; to the orphan, what palace equalled the hermitage of the Solitary ! and for what throne would Charles have exchanged the dwelling of Elodia ! According to the plan of the prince, the daughter of Saint-Maur was to seek Anselmo. The worthy pastor ofUnderlach could not have forgotten that Conrad, his beloved nephew, owed his life to the Solitary, and he would unite the two lovers in the chapel of the abbey. No earthly power had the right to forbid the marriage ofthe orphan. Elodia was unknown to her family ; Charles was forgotten by all mankind ; they were every thing to each other. In the most exquisite rapture, in the sweetest ecstacy of sentiment, the Prince of Burgundy and the Maid of Underlach never noticed the flying hours. Alas ! those relentless daughters of Time cut down the pleasures ofman even as they spring. The day fled like the evanescent light of human felicity. Toward evening, Elodia descended the mountain, leaning on VOL. II. 20 222 THE SOLITARY. her friend, her protector, her lover, and her betrothed. Theyseparated near the torrent ; the orphan hastened to the abode of Herstall, and the prince to the monastery. Charles wished to see his comrade again ; he wished to press to his bosom the magnanimous Egbert, and his happy heart was filled with gratitude and tenderness. Pity and pardon be upon the man whose kindliest feelings may have been chilled and hardened by misfortune, as the limpid stream petrifies in filtrating through the rock ! .... But hatred and contempt to the insensible heart, when prosperity descends upon it like dew, and imbues with new life, exhales no spirit of joy, benevolence, and love ! ... Anselmo saw the daughter of Saint-Maur advancing what pleasure penetrated his heart ! with what attention he listened to the tale of her deliverance ! ... Except the name and history of the Solitary, Elodia concealed nothing from Father Anselmo. She at once revealed to her ancient friend her engagements, her resolutions, and her motives for visiting the parsonage. Anselmo listened without interrupting her ; but more than once deep sighs escaped from his breast. Elodia saw with compassion that his eyes were swimming in tears ; she anxiously expected his answer. " Wellthen," at length said the venerable pastor, " was it to become the wife of a mysterious Solitary, a nameless being, without titles or fortune, that the sweet maid of Underlach refused the hand of the noble, the virtuous, and the powerful Count De Norendall ! . . Alas !" continued he, " Heaven has given me no power over THE SOLITARY. 223 Elodia. A destitute orphan, you are the mistress of yourself. Of what avail are the prudent counsels of an old man, and the cold words of reason, against the ardent declarations of love, and the enticing seduction of the heart ! . . . Yet, oh my daughter, answer with sincerity-you are ready to entrust your fate to the strange unknown of the Wild Mountain, a precipice is perhaps before you ; —atthe sound ofmy suppliant voice do you not feel your determinations shaken ? Does not an involuntary shudder reach your heart ? No, my father, " said the maiden firmly ; " I well know the soul of the Solitary ; I do not fear to confide my destiny to him, and I believe that Heaven itselfinspired my resolution. " And you love !" said the old man. "Would I wish," said the maiden, " to be a bride if I did not love ? " ... 66 Anselmo ," continued she, " do not refuse to bless the union of Elodia. At the foot of the holy altars call down upon the orphan and her bridegroom the benedictions of the Almighty. Let my hand be united by you to the hand of” —“ Of an unknown, of an adventurer, perhaps ! " cried the grieved Anselmo. " Of an adventurer !" repeated Elodia indignantly ; " how unkind was that word, Anselmo ! Is it you that should speak thus of the generous saver of Conrad!" . . With an energetic and solemn voice she then exclaimed, " Compared with him, whom the maid of Underlach has chosen, the powerful Count De Norendall is but an obscure and inglorious being. The man to whom she to-day gives her heart, if he wished, could to-morrow raise her proudly to the height of the greatest powers of the earth. By her 224 THE SOLITARY. birth and rank, the orphan of the abbey is rather unworthy of the Solitary, than the Solitary inferior to her. Proud of her husband, in the secluded wild Elodia will only obey the dictates of love ... though she might command glory. " Enthusiasm sparkled in her eyes. " Elodia, " cried the amazed Anselmo, " you then know his secret history ! .. Speak then, and let me know his name !" " At the hymeneal altar, " answered the orphan, "he will reveal it to you himself. In the vaulted chapel ofthe monastery the name shall escape his lips for the last time. To fame, greatness , and all human vanities , the Solitary forever bids adieu . And shall a minister of Heaven reproach him for this !" The surprise of Anselmo increased at every word Elodia uttered. " My father," she continued, " in the name of that tenderness you profess for me, in the name of Heaven, for even it seems to have commanded this union, swear never to disclose the existence of the man who no longer wishes to command his fellows, and will only reveal his name to you in presence of the Almighty. " " I swear !" cried Anselmo, and the pastor doubted not but that the exile of the Wild Mountain was an illustrious personage. Could Elodia, a pure and spotless maiden, love him thus, if by some virtue he had not shown himselfworthy of her ! .... Anselmo no more endeavoured to shake her unalterable resolution ; and the morrow at sunset promised to unite her to the Solitary in the chapel of the abbey. The orphan turned toward the Wild Mountain , and Anselmo strove in vain to detain her at the parson- THE SOLITARY. 225 age. She would have feared to offend her lover by appearing to doubt him, and ceasing, even for a day, to confide in his honour. To stay from him on the very eve of marriage would have been cruel : Charles needed her presence ; she desired his love. With transport they again met. Near the peaceful hermitage, seated on the forest sward, by the mild star light they conversed on the happy present and the blissful future. The past was forgotten like a dream. Close by each other's side, and cradled in solitude, they neither heard the gentle whispering of the zephyrs among the foliage , nor the low murmur of the distant cascade ; they only lent an ear to the emphatic accents of love , the fervent language of sentiment ; and when an eloquent silence for a moment succeeded the impassioned effusions, they only heard their sighs and the beating of their hearts. The maiden of the abbey with regret retired to the rustic shelter when the hour of repose arrived. Every moment that passed without the society of the Solitary seemed stolen from happiness. An honourable warrior and tender lover, Charles guarded the sanctuary of innocence with enthusiastic respect ; and under the care of love , in the power of the most passionate of men, the fondest of human beings, the loveliest of maidens, slept confiding and happy. The wounds of Egbert were slight, and already almost healed. Charles had seen his brother in arms, and had informed him of his happiness. The generous Count De Norendall was capable of any sacrifice. He had promised to accompany Charles to the 20* 226 THE SOLITARY. altar, and assist at the marriage ceremony, which was to separate him from Elodia for ever ! How long the night seemed to the prince ! Dawn at length appeared, but how little was nature in barmony with the joyous heart of the Solitary ! The atmosphere was loaded with dense clouds, and the white pinnacles of the icy mountains arose on the shadowy horizon, like dim and vapoury spectres. The Dove ofthe Monastery left the hut ; she looked at the sky, and shuddered.... The evening before one would have said that all nature smiled at her felicity ; why does the nascent dawn seem a foreboding messenger of evil ? But what enchantments will not love produce ! At the first word from Charles, the trouble of Elodia fled ; the misty air no longer threatened tempests ; the sky was no longer clouded ; what was all the dark prospect to her ! ... he whom she loved was by her side . In the delight of pure enjoyment, and the expectation ofthe most perfect happiness , Charles saw the hours glide away. The sun had not broke through the mist. all day, and a stormy cloud covered the valley ; the impetuous south wind escaped from burning deserts, and hastened across the frozen mountains. The orphan and the prince descended from the mountain, and, favoured by the darkness, crossed, unperceived, the peaceful hamlet of Underlach ; they reached the monastery, and were at length in the chapel. The marriage tapers were burning, and incense smoked from censers of gold. Elodia knelt in the chancel. Egbert was waiting for the affianced pair ; he was pale and sorrowful ; he durst not look at the THE SOLITARY. 227 orphan. Anselmo was at the altar ; his brow was sad and stern . He was now to know that name which the Solitary would only reveal in the presence of the Most High. The silent pastor, like a scrutinizing judge, turned his glance upon Charles with dread, and then on the orphan with compassion. The ceremony began ; the Solitary knelt beside the orphan, but still dared not to address Heaven ; his feelings were inexplicable ; he trembled at the foot ofthe altar , as if before an inexorable tribunal, and he sought in vain to recognize the presence of a God of mercy-he only felt a God of vengeance. The pastor of Underlach approached the lovers, and in a solemn tone asked the future husband what were the names and titles he bore among men. The Solitary shuddered at the question, as if it were one he He hesitated, and with a fal- should not answer. • tering voice pronounced-" Charles of Burgundy. " Back to the very altar recoiled the appalled Anselmo ; his hair started erect ; his knees trembled under him, and he pressed his palms to his eyes ; he groaned with horror . . and to his signal of alarm succeeded the most awful silence, disturbed but by the sullen echo, that repeated at diminished intervals , died away under the gloomy vaults, as the minute gun from the foundering wreck resounds upon the dark and stormy deep. Suddenly, like one inspired, Anselmo raised his prophetic eyes, and hurried in a frenzy towards Charles. His threatening glance flashed fire, like Moses in wrath descending from Mount Sinai, and 228 THE SOLITARY. breaking the tables of the law before the idolatrous Jews. The brow of Anselmo appeared to blast the gaze, and his voice spoke like the rolling thunder. The messenger of celestial vengeance seemed advancing from the midst of lightnings :-"Charles the Bold !" cried he ; "thou scourge of nations ! what power has then drawn thee from the tomb ! ... Murderer ofSaintMaur! at the very altar darest thou present thy bloody hand to the daughter of thy victim ? . . . Infamous séducer ! see the wild spectre of Irena advance, and cast at thy feet the livid corpse of thy child ! Sacrilegious warrior ! hark ! hearest thou not the cry of all the monks of this monastery slaughtered on the Terrific Peak ! ... Butcher of thy people ! the earth spurns thee with horror, and the holy temple disclaims thee.... Fly, monster ! profane not this sacred precinct with thy accursed presence ! I speak in the name of the Most High ; maledictions to the man of crime ; to the sanguinary conqueror ; to the assassin ; to the impious, the blasphemous wretch ! Upon Charles the Bold-anathema ! —anathema ! " And the echo of the dusky aisles reverberated, " anathema ! anathema !" At that moment an impetuous hurricane, like another minister of chastisement and fury, shook the sacred building. The earth groaned ; the holy edifice trembled to its massy foundations. The violent tempest tore away the old casements of the sanctuary, and hurled them, shattered to atoms, to the foot ofthe altar ; the tapers were extinguished, and the church The THE SOLITARY. 229 involved in total darkness. The convent bell , impelled by the struggling blast, suddenly tolled ... Elodia recognised the fatal tones that accompanied her first vows in the sepulchral vault. " Ha ! our nuptial benediction ! " she exclaimed, and sunk upon the marble, inanimate. Like Heliodorus, the favourite of Seleucus , overthrown in the temple of Jerusalem by the celestial course ofthe flaming angel, the unfortunate Duke of Burgundy fell with his face prostrate in the dust. A deathlike chill crept through his veins ; his blood stagnated ; his wild eyes closed ; his limbs stiffened ; his motions were convulsive ; he uttered a deep moan, and remained for a few moments without speech, feeling, or thought. Charles at length opened his eyes. The Count De Norendall was supporting him in his arms. By the faint light of a taper which the wind itself had lit , the prince looked around for the maid of Underlach ; but carried to the abbey by Anselmo, she had disappeared from the chapel. The sacred halls were deserted , and silence and malediction had replaced love and hymeneal consecration : the very smoke of the incense seemed the breath of terror. No human step, no mortal voice, broke that silence of the grave; that malediction clung to the fatal roofs; and Charles heard nothing but the hoarse shriek of the bird of ruins traversing the desolate galleries in its melancholy flight · Irreparable grief is mute as death. Charles was in the extreme of sorrow. Motionless and stupefied, like an effigy of himself, he looked fixedly at his friend, as if the recollection of Egbert were effaced 230 THE SOLITARY. he from his memory. He arose and walked, as if to assure himself that he preserved motion and life ; touched himself with surprise , as if examining himself for the first time ; he spoke in a low voice, as if inquiring who he was. Leaving Egbert, fastened through the dark aisles ofthe chapel. His eyes were haggard, his gait. was rapid, and he placed himself against a column ; his head was bowed to the earth, and from his lips escaped incoherent and inarticulate sounds, like one conversing with invisible and familiar spirits. Egbert approached him and spoke. . . . Charles motioned him to silence, as one who listened to another voice. The storm was passed. The Count De Norendall remained by his friend's side , and at length succeeded in tearing him from the fatal spot ; he drew him along from the abbey. But Charles stopped suddenly, and repulsed Egbert. " Whither do we go ?" he exclaimed. " To the Wild Mountain. " " Who commands thus ?" " Elodia. " And that name, pronounced at random, produced a magic effect. The Duke of Burgundy followed his guide without resistance. In a continued frenzy he crossed the torrent and the forest, and climbed the mountain. Heaven, in pity to his fate, had deprived him of reason ; he entered the hermitage, unconscious of the place he had reached, or from where he came, and he sunk, overcome by excess of suffering. A leaden and lethargic slumber weighed upon his limbs, and the pains of existence were for a few hours lost in the repose of insensibility. The cloudy night grew darker, and the rain poured in torrents. Not less unhappy than his prince, the

THE SOLITARY. 231 Count De Norendall watched beside the inanimate body of Charles, when he heard a voice call him ; he raised his eyes, and Father Anselmo was before him. The noble warrior was silent with surprise. Repressing the first emotions of anger, he turned away his head, and with a sarcastic smile pointed to the sleeping prince, stretched upon the earth. " Behold him ! " said he, " thunder against him again, implacable minister of Heaven ; gaze upon your victim ! On the sterile rock and in this. mean hut, mark that senseless form, expiring, unheeded, rejected from palaces, and repulsed from the altar. There lies the powerful conqueror of Europe, the hero of the age, Charles the Bold ! are you satisfied ?" Anselmo's face was " It was the command of Heaven, " bathed in tears. said the old man ; " I have fulfilled my duty as a priest at the altar ; I come to fulfil my task as pastor of men. My heart grieves as much as yours, and perhaps more. Egbert ! when I anathematised Charles of Burgundy, I was carried away by an irresistible impulse, stronger than thought, and more powerful than will. My tongue proffered words, unexpected by myself, and the malediction passed my lips, but arose not from my heart. I was acted upon by a supernatural power ; and as a heavenly intermediary, I thundered at the monastery, but as an old man of the valley, I come to weep at the hermitage. " Piety, grief, truth, and christian charity, were blended in the sublime features of the venerable Anselmo. Egbert saw his tears, and hair whitened by the hand of time ; he listened to his faltering voice and plaintive justification, and he suppressed the re- 232 THE SOLITARY, proaches he meditated . " Generous Count De Norendall," continued Anselmo, " notwithstanding the dangers ofthe way, and my advanced age , I determined to see you to night. Heaven gave me strength to come this far, and its anger may at length be appeased ; this is perhaps the term of its avenging afflictions. tell Oh ! tell Charles, since he cannot hear me now, him that he must not despair of Providence, and that here on earth, no misfortune is without a remedy." "What!" cried Egbert, " do you hope?" " Hope is the child of Heaven, " said the old man, " let us not thrust her from us. By my voice was the curse pronounced, and my voice may yet pronounce forgiveness. But, noble Egbert, to save Charles and the orphan, allow yourself to be guided by my counsels ; second the efforts of the pastor of Underlach. " " Oh!" exclaimed the passionate Egbert, " dispose of my whole life ; command ! and I obey ; speak ! what must I do ?" " Detain Charles at the hermitage," answered Anselmo , " and let him be denied all entrance to the abbey for a few days. The daughter of Saint-Maur is ill ; and the least shock may terminate her existence ; the presence of the prince at this time might be fatal. Neither he nor I should appear before her ; Egbert, watch Charles , while I return to guard Elodia. " He turned to leave the cabin, ashe spoke. Neither forest, nor torrent, nor storm, nor darkness, intimidated him ; his clothes were drenched with the rain, and his limbs benumbed with the cold. Anselmo felt it not ; his fervent and pious spirit forgot its mortal tenement ; with transport he would have ransomed, at + " THE SOLITARY. 233 the price of his life , the anathema he had given, Casting a last look on the Duke of Burgundy, he returned , and grasped the cold hand of the prince. " Poor unfortunate, " said the old man, 66 for once in my life then I have been unmerciful ! Just Heaven !" he added as he knelt and prest the hand of Charles, " Power of Mercy ! if any good action of my life ever merited a reward, grant me this prayer ; let Charles, let Elodia be saved ! Sovereign arbiter of fate ! - must there be an expiatory victim ? ... direct the stroke against me, condemn the remainder of my days to the most cruel penance , and I will be resigned ; but let Charles and Elodia, forgiven and united, be restored to happiness ! ... Charles, here I swear, never hence to lay aside sackcloth, to live but on wild herbs, to drink only the water ofthe torrent, to sleep only upon ashes. May my life of privation and self- torture appease the anger of the Almighty, and erase the very recollection of my severity against thee !" His ardent prayers bespoke religious enthusiasm , and his soul was expressed in the sacrifice he offered of himself. With delight he would have welcomed chastisement, and have devoted himself to suffering ; and would have been the martyr himself, to restore his victims to life and happiness. The Duke of Burgundy revived some time after the pastor ofUnderlach had returned to the monastery. Dawn illumined the cottage ; " Elodia ! Elodia ! " cried Charles, as he gazed around. But the call of love was not answered by the sweet voice of the orphan The Prince had recovered his reason, but the most mournful dejection was in his countenance ; his calm VOL. II. 21 234 THE SOLITARY. showed the highest degree of mental pain ; his re. signation was but seeming, and his collected manner a moral annihilation . Charles, throughout his life , had exhausted all the plaints of misfortune , all the cries of rage, all the groans of remorse, and all the accents of despair. Alas ! his silence was the most emphatic demonstration of his grief. The Count De Norendall still cherished some hope ; he related to his friend the nocturnal visit of Anselmo, the motive of his coming, and his affecting prayer. Scarcely recovered from his wounds, Egbert, pale and weak, had watched all night in the hut, beside his brother in arms. Charles looked at him, he listened to him, and his heart gradually returned to emotions of sentiment ; a fugitive tear fell from his eye lids. Egbert sprang to his arms. "Weep!" cried he, " weep! Heaven and earth expected that tear. " --- “ Earth ! ” . .. replied the Prince, " the earth has nothing to, expect of me, but my mortal remains ; and Heaven--- " " Heaven ,' cried Egbert, " Heaven is appeased ; the marriage torch may yet be lighted. " Charles was silent ; but Egbert continued to offer to his friend the most consoling ideas, and spoke only of hope. Submissive to Egbert's desires, the Prince never left the hermitage ; two days past in agonizing expectation, but no news came from the abbey, and the Count De Norendall feared to leave Charles. "" Their perplexity, their uncertainty, was dreadful. Egbert began to believe that Anselmo had abandoned him ; Anselmo had repeatedly sent secret messengers to inform Egbert of the desperate state of the orphan's health, and the progress of her malady, but none of THE SOLITARY. 235 them had dared to ascend the terrible mountain , and by false answers , they had deceived the aged pastor. The morning dawned over the valley ; Charles could not long support the anxiety which gnawed his heart. To escape the vigilance of Egbert, was his only desire, and his only thought. A slight noise was heard at the bottom of the mountain path..- " They are coming !" cried Charles, and the Count De Norendall precipitately descended the mountain ; but his expectation was vain , and his researches useless. Egbert returned to the cabin in despair ; ... but the Prince had disappeared. The Duke of Burgundy was already beyond the torrent ; he had crossed the valley ; the gate of the par' of the abbey was open ; and he hastened into the gardens. But how was he to reach Elodia ?-all in the priory were sleeping. He directed his steps to the subterranean passage communicating with the cha pel. Within the walls ofthe monastery, if he could not introduce himself to the presence of the orphan, at least he might meet some servant who would inform him ofher fate. Charles paused before the arbour where the remains of Herstall were deposited ; there he for the first had learnt that he was loved. He wished to salute, in passing, the bower of love and death ; he advanced and separated the foliage ; could he believe his eyes ? White as the snowy flake on the Alpine fir, and bending like the pensile bough of the fountain willow, a pale and melancholy form was languidly leaning on the monumental cross. His heart palpitating with fear and hope, Charles approached ; the 236 THE SOLITARY. 66 maiden in the lonely bower raised her pallid brow, and perceived him. " Charles ! " she cried, and springing to meet him, fell strengthless upon the mossy turf at his feet. " Elodia !" exclaimed the dismayed Prince, as he raised le , " do I behold you here !" Heavens how her features were wasted by sickness ! and yet how beautiful she was ! They were watching with me," said the bewildered orphan ; "sleep closed their weary eyes, and in a moment of delirium I escaped from their care ; I wished to come here to die." She gradually recovered her mind. "Charles," said she, " I felt á presentiment that we would meet again. It was here that Elodia confessed her love, and here Elodia would bid farewell to life . ”—“ No ! " cried Charles, věhemently; "no! nothing henceforth shall snatch from me my Elodia ; no , not even the grave shall separate us. ”

• • If my strength had allowed," resumed she , with a

feeble and dying voice, " I would have gone as far as the Wild Mountain .... Alas ! I was so happy at the hermitage. It seems to me that pitiless death would not there have dared to touch me ; love would have bound me to existence. The breath of love is so warm ! is it not the breath of life ! " ... " Oh ! do not speak of death !" cried Charles in desperation, " speak only of love. Come, thou desirest to return to the hermitage ; let us go thither instantly ! ... Thou canst not walk, but I will support thee in my arms. There Heaven is compassionate ; there all nature smiles upon us ; thither love calls us, and there happiness awaits us." " Happiness !" repeated Elodia ; " oh, yes ! I was happy there ; let us go."

THE SOLITARY. 237 ·· She spoke, and strove to rise ; but the chill of death was in her veins . A mist passed over her sight, and she fell again, as she exclaimed , " Charles ! the anathema is between us. No, I shall never see the hermitage. I feel it, I shall never see again the Wild Mountain ... Oh why did I ever leave it ! " Her voice died away, and the Prince carried the fainting maid without the bower ; his every word and action attested his love, distraction, and despair. " Stay !" said Elodia, recovering herself, " Oh stay my beloved ! Can I see the Wild Mountain from this ? do you discern the cabin of the Solitary ? Cruel death, but one moment yet .. Oh ! to that elysium ofthis earth, let me give one single look, one last sigh ! ..." " Elodia ! Elodia ! " cried Charles, as he rested her on a bank of turf, " do not, do not speak thus ! my strength leaves me ; you take my life from me. Speak not of anathema ! Anselmo is ready to retract, and has promised to unite us. Heaven at length forgives ... and as soon as Elodia can return to the altar, Anselmo, in the name of the Most High, will bless Charles and his beloved. " " What do I hear ?" said the orphan, " does Heaven forgive ? I shall be thy bride ! and we may yet be happy !" ... Elodia's eyes were re- animated, her heart palpitated, a slight carnation coloured her cheek, her countenance beamed with joy. The expiring orphan was once more the beautiful Maid of Underlach. The hopes of Charles revived. “ Yes ! ” said he, with transport, " in the mountain hermitage we shall yet be happy. " 21* 238 THE SOLITARY. The feeble and trembling Elodia arose. Charles ,' ' said she, " how sweet this moment ! what delight I feel ! No, never have I loved thee as much ; open thy arms to thy bride ; I wish to hear thy voice ; come nearer ... Oh let me feel thy heart beat against mine! let me breathe thy breath ; I would have thee all mine. " Her The sweet maiden of the abbey was in the arms of her betrothed ; he pressed her to his heart. head gently sunk upon his breast, and a deep sigh escaped from her lips ; she murmured the name of the Solitary ..... Charles thought her restored ... she had expired . The unfortunate Duke of Burgundy gave a shriek of despair. Elodia was no more ! ... He placed the body of the adored maid on the grave of Herstall , Ithen dashed himself upon the earth, and bit the turf in the convulsions of frenzy ; he tore his hair, and with his unnatural hands , lacerated his face. Elodia's eyes were closed ... and the light of the only star that had shone upon him was quenched forever. The horrors of chaos enveloped him. Alas ! Charles the Bold, destined to undergo all the sorrows of existence, had fallen from every summit of human felicity, he "had suffered every grief that can afflict the heart, and had passed through all the terrors and despair of this vale of tears. His violent distraction was succeeded by a frightful stupor, and Charles, for a few moments, seemed to have rejoined her he loved, in abodes of eternal peace. THE SOLITARY. 239 Suddenly he raised his bewildered brow, stained with the blood which streamed from his self- inflicted wounds. Not far from the Prince knelt a priest, who prayed fervently, and shed bitter tears over the inanimate maid. Charles recognized Anselmo. " Barbarian !" cried he, springing furiously towards him, " dost thou shed tears ! dost thou weep for her ? Whothen gave her the death- blow ? ... Who hurried her to an untimely grave ? Thy pity is a new outrage. Begone , monster ! or I shall add one more crime to the crimes of my life ! Yes, I ought to immolate thee, to appease her shade. If I have not yet been allowed to follow her, it is because I am left to revenge her." He seized an enormous stone from the foot of Hergtall's grave, and like the savage vulture who plunges on the defenceless bird , the Prince held certain death above the head of Anselmo. " Strike !" said the old man calmly, without bending his venerable forehead, " strike, unhappy wretch ! and dare to separate thyself from her to all eternity. " Surprised at the accents of the pastor, at his resignation, his courage, andthe sublime expression ofhis countenance, Charles suspended the blow he meditated, and threw down the stone. " No !" he exclaimed , “ for she is here ; though dead she still rules my soul .... Thou shalt not perish. Crime and revenge were dreadful to her ; and she is still here. I will not profane the air she so lately inhaled .... Her last breath wanders about me ; I hear her, she speaks to me ... Oh! answer Elodia ! didst thou not just say to me ... Oh stay!" 240 THE SOLITARY. AndCharles, bewildered, knelt beside his mistress, and bending over her lifeless form, questioned her again in heart- rending accents :-" Answer, Elodia , answer ! ... it is thy beloved who calls thee. ” 66 The old man of Underlach shared the anguish of Charles. " Elodia !" cried he in turn, tutelary angel ! canst thou not answer to his voice ? Oh thou, who didst love him so much, from those eternal mansions where thou already art, pour at least some consoling balm upon his wounded spirit !" Atthis affecting prayer, the Prince looked at the pastor with surprise. His eyes , overflowing with tears, were raised to heaven, as he implored divine mercy on Charles . His hoary locks, his pious attitude , and inspired voice, recalled to mind some holy father of the Egyptian deserts, communing with angels, or the Apostle reclaiming some infidel heart. " And dost thou pray for me ?" said the Prince in a solemn and subdued tone. " And hast thou then forgot thy anathema ?" Anselmo replied with energy, " Charles, I only think on thy misfortunes ; heaven for a while has separated thee from the angel whom it had only sent to draw thee to the right path ; wilt thou deceive the hope of heaven ? by guilty transports, and an impious end, wilt thou replunge thyself into perdition. Shall that adored maid call for thee in vain, and weep even in abodes of eternal felicity ?" " She calls me !" repeated Charles, distractedly ... " Listen !" He spoke, and turning his eyes towards the monumental cross, thought he saw a lambent light play over the orphan of the monastery. To him it seemed THE SOLITARY. 241 that the bowerwas embalmed with a cloud of incense, and that from above , a celestial voice pronounced the name of Charles. " Anselmo, " said the frenzied prince, " she spake --she awaits me."' But who shall overthrow the obstacles that divide us ? who shall clear my way to that heaven where". " Who will clear thy way ?" said Anselmo, seized with holy enthusiasm ; "he, who successor to the apostles, received the power of condemning and absolving, of uniting and disunitinga vicegerent ofthe Lord, even Anselmo. " " You!" cried Charles, recoiling with horror. "Heavenly Father !" continued Anselmo, " take the unfortunate to thyself. Of what avail are my weak efforts , without thy succour ! Divine Spirit, inspire me! Let the waters of life eternal flow from the arid rock ! Let the dark desert be illumined with celestial brightness ! Let the heart of Charles be penetrated by words of health and peace ! Let the last strength of my life suffice to achieve this ! Let me save him, and then die !" .... At these words, subjugated by an unknown power, and excited by an irresistible impulse, Charles impetuously exclaimed-" Thou Power Supreme, that hast deprived us of Elodia ! my crimes are then not yet sufficiently expiated ! .... Thou demandest from me, the last and most cruel effort of human nature .. .. I fall at the feet of him who has snatched from me all earth held dear ; who has torn from me more than existence. I implore my pardon from him who has been to me the most barbarous of men. Here is the murderer of Elodia ! and I am going to call him 242 THE SOLITARY. my Father." He then knelt before Anselmo, and thus resumed : " Minister of the Lord ! retract thy anathema ! let every barrier be broken, that parts me from Elodia ! Absolve Charles the Bold, and open to him an immortal path ! Father, bless me !" As he finished the last words, his voice expired on his lips. The dreadful sacrifice was consummated--- his strength left him ; and Charles remained senseless at the foot of the cross he had embraced. " Arbiter of Mercy ! " cried Anselmo, with all the exaltation of Christian faith , " I feel that thou dost forgive ; thy celestial fire is upon me, and thou inspirest me." The pastor ofthe faithful paused for a moment, as if listening to some divine harmony ; and then turning to Charles of Burgundy, pronounced the absolution in an almost superhuman tone. His eyes sparkled, and his thin white hair, around his radiant brow, appeared like a shining halo : he seemed like John crying in the desert, or like Elisha on Mount Carmel. Oh wonderful power of piety and religion ! The famous Charles of Burgundy, fallen from all his greatness , despoiled of all his glory, lost to all hope, dead to all joy, at the voice of a simple pastor, at the foot of an humble cross, felt his bosom filled with unexpected peace, and divine favour escaping from recollection and remorse, and receiving unhoped consolation, Charles had reached the first portals of heaven, and left earth far behind. 2 The Count de Norendall appeared at the entrance of the bower he had already heard and learnt THE SOLITARY. 243 enough to comprehend the scene before him. " Egbert !" cried Anselmo, " take your friend from this fatal spot ! I must perform the last duties to the Orphan ofthe Monastery." Egbert expected that Charles would resist ; to his astonishment, the prince listened , and without answering him, arose and followed. They both ascended the mountain in silence , and arrived at the hermitage . Alas ! the Count de Norendall had also lost in Elodia the only being that had ever made his heart beat with love ; and obliged to refrain from tears, and concealing his secret affliction, he was forced to endeavour to console , when he himselfwas inconsolable . 66 Some unknown project seemed to absorb the mind ofCharles. Calm as insensibility, and mute as death, with his eye constantly fixed on the horizon, he appeared impatiently awaiting the close of day. Night at length came, and Charles broke silence. " Egbert," said he, " if thou lovest me still , listen to my last prayer, and grant me my request." Speak," replied Egbert, " can I refuse you any thing ?" " For four and twenty hours," resumed Charles , " I would wish to be left alone at the hermitage. Do not ask me what is my design, nor what are my expectations ; but, in the name of my misfortunes, in the name of thy friendship, do not refuse thy friend's desire. I swear not to attempt my life, nor to quit the country. To- morrow evening, at this hour, return to thy friend and companion, and thou wilt find him at the hermitage." 244 THE SOLITARY. The Count de Norendall could not divine the secret intentions of Charles ; yet he gave his consent to leave him for a while, and had crossed the threshold ofthe cabin, when Charles exclaimed in a tender and plaintive voice, " Egbert ! one word more .. ..Dear and generous Egbert, before you go, forgive me for the sorrows I have brought upon you ; forgive me for the tears I have made you shed ; forgive me for your trials and afflictions !" 60 66 Me !" cried Egbert, me forgive thee ! .... And hast thou then believed that the tests of friendship were trials ! that devoted attachment to thee was an affliction ! .... My prince ! my friend ! was I not thy companion ? hadst thou not the right to exact any thing, to expect every thing from my truth ?" " Had it not been for me," replied Charles, bitterly, " she would have been thy bride. Had it not been for me, the Count de Norendall and the Maiden of Underlach would have been lovers, and united , and have lived happily. I have snatched thy happiness from thee ; I have torn from thee the object of thy affections ; and I have taken possession of her, only to precipitate her to the tomb. Alas ! such has been my destiny- the destruction of all who have loved me ; I have spread around me but grief, dread, and death. Many hearts have rested upon Charles . . . . he received them but to ruin and break ... "" " What would'st thou say ?" cried Egbert, eagerly. "What prince ever diffused more benefactions ? who better understood the duties of friendship ? who from the summit of human greatness, the master of kings, the conqueror of nations, the hero of the world, THE SOLITARY. 215 deigned to cast on the obscure Egbert a glance of protection and kindness ! Who invested me with dignities ? who thrice saved my life ?". " Charles," continued he, " I owe to thee my elevation, my titles , and my wealth ; but from this day I renounce them all. Far from palaces and courts, I will henceforth have no other dwelling than thy cottage ; no other existence than thine. Onthis lonely and sterile globe, I will henceforth only see , and accompany, and love Charles ; not Charles of Burgundy, protected by fortune and crowned by glory ; but my friend, my companion in arms, the Solitary of the Wild Mountain. " The Duke of Burgundy covered his face with his hands ; he was suffocated by sobs ; he could scarcely breathe. " No, " said the unhappy Charles, as if ruminating with himself, " no , he was not a monster who could be thus loved ! " —" Charles," continued Eg- ` bert, " recollect that I have none but thee upon earth : answer, wilt thou allow me to remain in the hermitage with thee ?" The prince was too much oppressed to utter a word, but he opened his arms to the magnanimous Egbert ; motionless and bathed in tears , he for several minutes held him to his breast. 99 The Count De Norendall tore himself from so pain. ful a scene ; X66 I must then leave you, " said he, but it shall be only for a short while, and for the last time." " The last time ! " said Charles , shuddering. " To-morrow," said Egbert, " we will meet again, and thenceforth never separate ." As he spoke , he plunged into the forest. " Egbert !” cried Charles VOL. II. 22 246 THE SOLITARY. in tones of the deepest grief, " my dear Egbert ! — Farewell !" The mournful expression ofhis words was excited by the idea of having embraced his friend for the last time. Why were they lost in the empty air ? had those plaintive accents of Charles but reached his companion, they might have changed the destiny of both ! Norendall was already far from the Wild Mountain, and the prince followed him with his eyes. Suddenly he hastened to the interior of his cabin, and threw himself on the lonely couch where his mistress once reposed ; he called for her aloud : " Elodia ! dear Elodia ! here thou wert in my power. ..Here I was to have called thee mine ! . . . Here thy heart beat for me ! . . . Thou art no more ; and I am here alone !" Night covered Underlach with her dusky mantle. Charles at length put his project in execution. He descended the Wild Mountain rapidly. He walked towards the monastery and entered the park. A few remains of the brilliant decorations of the gala given to the orphan by the Prince De Palzo, were still scattered over the turf. Disguised in the crowd, the Duke of Burgundy had witnessed all the magnificent festival of that day. The pale and trembling light of the moon glittered above the hazy horizon, as when her lustre streams through the smoky clouds that enshroud the field of death. Charles was near the amphitheatre where the Lorraine knights contested for victory. There Elodia, full of youth, hope, love, and beauty, and drawn like the goddess of Cythera in a triumphal car, THE SOLITARY. 247 had crowned the conquerors of the tourney. There, the martial instruments, and the sonorous voices of the warriors, had celebrated the most beautiful of maidens ; Nothunder peals shall war above, Thy course that dawns so heavenly fair. Thy heart was formed to cherish love, Thybrow was made a crown to bear. Alas ! the thunder had done its worst ! • • • That lovely flower whose beauty once dazzled the valley, was no longer the pride of nature ; that maiden so much beloved, was no more the queen of the gala ; never could she hear again the loud shouts of enthusiasm, or the tender sighs of love. Like a light shade, she had crossed the path of life . . . and faded away. Charles groaned deeply, and fled hastily from the bowers beloved by the orphan . How agonizing is the mingled recollection of love and death ! 置 Bythe subterranean passage through which he had once gained access to the vault where he had met Elodia, Charles entered the chapel. What a spectacle struck his eye ! The sacred precincts were illuminated as if for some joyful ceremony ; white tissue and brocade decorated the ancient walls ; myrrh and incense smoked around in precious vases ; rich tapestry covered the pavement of the temple ; the air was embalmed with perfumes ; the marriage tapers were lighted ; ... on what shone they ! On death ! Before the altar was a magnificent couch, surmounted by a canopy of dazzling whiteness, and sup- 248 THE SOLITARY. ported by four columns of silver ; wreaths of white roses fell in festoons around the bier, and the throne of death was covered with white draperies oftransparent gauze ; the refulgent lustre of the lamps reflected on the silvery,dome, the flowery garlands, and the glittering columns, made the funereal pavilion appear a temple of light. Environed by all the pompous vanities of life , and stretched on the silent couch, the sweet maiden of Underlach slept the sleep of eternity. A white veil concealed her angelic features ; an emblem of innocence, alas intended for the hymeneal diadem, encircled her brow. Deepest silence reigned through the deserted chapel. The Duke of Burgundy approached that monument of death, and knelt beside it. " Celestial maid !" he exclaimed, " this then is thy nuptial couch ! these then are thy bridal ornaments ! My dread destiny is accomplished. Unfortunate victim ! what did I tell thee, the first time I came to thee ? Fly! youngflower of the valley, my breath is pestilence, my presence is deadly. What did I tell thee, within these very walls, the day of our first vows ? that I was a man familiar with the tomb !" His prostrate forehead touched the marble of the sanctuary . " Angelic girl ! " cried he, suddenly starting up with a bewildered air, "thou didst wish to die on the Wild Mountain ; thy last word was the Solitary ; thy last glance turned towards the hermitage ....Thy last wishes shall be fulfilled ; the hut ofthe exile shall receive thy mortal remains . ..There thou wilt sleep a sweeter sleep ; there I will watch beside thy sepulchre ; there the last fires THE SOLITARY. 249 oflove shall be extinguished on thy bier. My arms were not allowed this morning, to transport thee to the mountain, happy, and still full of life ; they will bear thee thither cold and inanimate. The last duties shall be rendered to thee by Charles, and thy grave shall receive his last sigh. " He ascended the dais ; he approached the funeral couch ; he threw aside the white veil that covered the brow ofthe orphan, and with outstretched arms, and in accents oflove and madness, cried, " come ! come to the heart of thy betrothed ; was not that thy last effort ! .... Elodia ! I hear thee still ; yes, thou callest , thou sayest, ' Let me breathe thy breath ; I would have thee all mine.' " He paused .... as ifthe excess of love and grief was to work a miracle ; as if the orphan, at his passionate call , was to rise and throw herself upon his breast. How lovely she was still ! Crowned with white roses , the peaceful maid seemed smiling even in death . Her eyelids , white as transparent alabaster, appeared closed in gentle slumber, and her cold hand held a lily, pressed to her bosom. By the calmness of her features, it seemed that she dreamed a happy dream, and that Heaven had but for a short while taken from earth the lovelies to bject in nature. Charles bent towards the couch of death. He softly passed his arm around the young maid, as if he feared to hurt, or dreaded to waken her ; then with hurried steps he darted from the chapel ; he fled towards the Wild Mountain, fleet as the vivid lightning, like an Alcides snatching Alcestis from the shores of Acheron. 250 THE SOLITARY. The Prince had crossed the bridge of the torrent. Bythe faint twilight he recognized the tree, where the maid of the abbey had, on her harmonious lute , sung the charms of nature and spring. Alas ! there was now, neither spring, nor nature, nor harmonious lute , for the outcast of the earth. The night wind shook the trees. -Why did Charles stop so suddenly ? why did he shudder and start, and his strength fail ? ... The breeze blew among the flaxen locks ofthe orphan ; the floating ringlets touched his lips ; .... they were the same tresses on which, in all the intoxication of joy and hope, he had placed the first kiss of love . Then, also , the Maid of Underlach was in his arms ; but then he felt her heart beat to his ; then she was his own-she lived-she loved .... Charles could go no further .... he was almost at the door ofthe hermitage, but every faculty ofhis being had left him ; his stillness was like an interruption of existence. On what were his eyes gazing so intently ? Alas ! on the same trees under which, but a few days before, the orphan leaned on him, and con- versed of love. He laid his mistress at the foot of an old oak ; he knelt beside her, but he spoke not a word--he shed not one tear. He covered the face of Elodia with her long veil ; then only she seemed to have left him forever ; he raised his eyes as if he now sought for her in Heaven ; he appeared calling for her, or speaking to her ; ... but his lips never moved .... every thing passed in his heart. In the rock against which the hermitage was built, was a large cavern enclosed by an enormous stone. Charles knew not the original destination of this mysterious cave ; he now intended it as a tomb for inno- cence. After a few moments of dread silence, the Prince arose ; he took one ringlet from her long hair. " Elodia !" said he, " grant this to me ..... it will be the first and the last gift of love. " And he placed the tress in his bosom next his heart. THE SOLITARY. 251 "6 Charles rolled the stone from the rock ; he laid the inanimate form of the orphan in that natural sepulchre, and exclaimed in a faint voice as he closed the tomb - Farewell ! oh thou loveliest and purest of virgins ! forever wilt thou disappear from my eyes . As I sullied my glory, so I cut down thy youth and withered thy beauty ! Celestial girl ! sleep in the rock of grief and exile ! repose in peace in this spot of repentance and love. Farewell to the bliss of mutual confessions of tenderness ! Farewell to every earthly hope ! ... Thou who hast led me back to virtue-thou who alone hast made me feel pure love, passionate love ! thou wonder of creation, Elodia ! Elodia ! farewell ! ...' 99 His voice died away ; his brow once so proud and martial, fell heavily upon the sterile rock. His last accents were succeeded by the deepest silence, and all was still . . . . Suddenly he groaned deeply, as if in the last agony, the final struggle of human nature. Heaven at that moment cast a look of mercy and pity on the Duke of Burgundy ; his sorrows were hushed, and Heaven was open .... . Charles was no more ! Long after the death of Elodia and the Solitary , a knight of the court of Lorraine in crossing Helvetia, passed through the Valley ofUnderlach ; he heard tell of the Man of the Wild Mountain, whose name remained unknown, but whose benefactions and wondrous deeds were engraved on every heart. Then, through all the country, and by all the mountaineers, the young maiden of the abbey was almost canonized. The day that the orphan had died, her funereal couch in the chapel had been watched by Marceline. The body disappeared-and this was Marceline's account : " Toward the middle of the night I left my sacred charge but for a moment ; as I returned to the church I heard the distant tones of celestial lyres ; I hastened to the bier.. The pure virgin had been transported away by angels. The ceiling 252 THE SOLITARY. of the temple still seemed half open, and a golden cloud exhaled heavenly odours upon the sanctuary. " Anselmo, exhausted by the fasts, vigils, and penance he had imposed upon himself, survived the or phan of the monastery only one year. The knight learnt that the abode of the Solitary was inhabited by a hermit. He was curious enough to visit this wild and singular retreat ; he ascended the Wild Mountain , and perceived an anchorite kneeling against the rock of the hermitage . Respecting his devotions, he would not interrupt him ; but at length the stillness of the holy man excited a sus- picion of death. He approached, and his fears were confirmed ; the recluse had ceased to exist, but only since a few hours ; his limbs were still warm. The knight examined attentively the features of the anchorite ; he thought he remembered them, although furrowed by sorrow and affliction . Much affected, and endeavouring to discover the truth, he raised the black mantle of the hermit, and found next his heart a ringlet of flaxen hair, which had been washed with many a tear. . . . . He uncovered his breast ; there was no longer a doubt ! -a wellknown decoration struck his eyes, and dispelled all uncertainty ! The warrior exclaimed bitterly --- “ Oh my first brother in arms ! oh my chief! and is it thus I find thee ?" ... The knight had recognised Count Egbert De No- rendall. THE END.

Front matter

THE SOLITARY ; OR, The Mysterious Man of the Mountain. TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF VISCOUNT D'ARLINCOURT, BY AN AMERICAN LADY. TWO VOLUMES IN ONE. VOL. 1. NEW-YORK: PUBLISHED BY HENRY DURELL, PEARL- STREET. C. S. Van Winkle, Printer. 1822. Southern District of New- York, ss.

See also

• Solitary