Fabiola : or, The church of the catacombs - Digital Repository Services

tapestry which used to cover the walls of the rooms below beforc
the house had been refurnished aud silk substituted in their
place. These ancient hangings represented a variety of Scriptural,
historical, mythological, hunting, and pastoral scenes.
Though faded and worn out, they were still very handsome even
in the faint vacilla-
when seen by daylight ; and in the evening,
ting light afforded by a single candle, they seemed to assume all
sorts of strange, fantastic shapes white plumes nodded on the
helmets of the knights; horses advanced against a wild boar
standing at bay, surrounded by a pack of hounds; Abraham's
sword seemed to descend towards the form of his son bound to
the altar of sacrifice; knights, hunters, and patriarchs looked as
if they were carr.ying on mysterious interviews; and a crowd of
Scriptural and legendary personages rose from the canvas like
figures in a dream.
George evidently took pleasure in living amongst these shadowy
apparitions, for he often went up to his room before bed
time, and his mother had sometimes found him in a fit of ab-
straction, silently gazing on the face of Rebecca at the well, or
the holy Queen Bertha.
There was nothing in that .room which deserved to be called
furniture, except a bed, a dressing table, and a few chairs. In
one corner stood an old lacquered harpsichord, which had once
made the happiness of some ancestress of the Pinedes, but had
been consigned to oblivion for many a long year. George had
ruthlessly torn out of it the remaining strings and turned the
case into a receptacle for shells, and pebbles, and dried flowers.
Planks, supported by tressels, and covered with shreds of ta-
pestry, did duty for a table, on which heaps of books were lying
in hopeless confusion. Old Vincent had vainly asked leave to
sort and arrange them. It was just over this disorderly library
that the branch of acacia from the terrace extended its green fo-
liage and white flowers. George would not allow it to be cut off
or meddled with. He said it was the nicest piece of furniture
in his room. An old easel, a fiddle, and two or three boxes containing
unfinished sketches, and all sorts of odds and ends, com-
pleted the singular medley of things which filled this strange
bed-chamber.
About an hour after he had gone to his room, but not to bed,
and when the lights in the chateau were all put out, George de
Vedelles softly opened his door and went down stairs. He
stood an instant on the landing-place of the first floor, and lis-
tened to ascertain that no one was stirring. All was quiet, and
he went on, first to feel for his shooting jacket, which he had
left on the couch of the dining-room, and having found it,
crossed the vestibule and let himself out by the front door,
which he carefully locked. Once in the avenue he ran on towards
the gate, opened it in the same noiseless manner, and then
dashed down a little path which led through the olive woods to
the sea.
CHAPTER III.
VISITORS.
ON the following day the weather was beautiful. A mild
shower in the night had softened the air, the short-lived violence
of the mistral had not too roughly shaken the clouds of snowy
ins, and the sun was forcing open the orange buds. Burst-
ing on every side they filled the air with perfume. Everywhere
tin gardeners hastened to disengage the trees from the straw clothlich
protects them during the cold weather Spring had
I the victory, and was triumphing over winter.
The Count's family were sitting at breakfast. As a rule silence
prevailed during that meal. He read the Paris newspapers;
(icnrgc, who was sitting opposite the window, ate heartily and
stared at the flower-beds; Madame de Vedelles now and then said
a few words to Jacques, who was sitting near her. and consulted
him about points relating to the furnishing of La Pincdc A
difference of opinion arose on the subject of the relative merits
of dimitv and chintz. Jaccmes advised chintz for the chair
THE NOTARY'S DAUGHTER.
covers in the drawing-room. Madame de Vedelles, faithful to
the traditions of the Restoration, inclihed to dimity.
The Count was appealed to and also voted for dimity the
Countess thus remaining mistress of the field, told Jacques, to
comfort him, that she meant lo put chintz in his room.
"Oh, it is not worth while to do that, dear mother," he
answered.
" What! sit on Utrecht velvet alJ the summer, Jacques," she
answered, "and in Provence too? I cannot think of such a
thing!"
"That is not what I meant," he replied; ''but as I shall not be
here more than a few days, it really would be useless lo go to
that expense."
Madame de Vedelles' countenance fell. "I did not know you
were going away,' 1
she said.
"
Has not my father told you? "
"No."
" I meant to speak to you about it this very day, my dear,"
the Count said, looking up from this newspaper. "Jacques is
anxious to go back to Paris, and I think he is quite right. He
is losing time here, and time is precious."
"I suppose he is bored here," Madame de Vedelles said,
scarcely able to suppress her tears.
" Oh, you must not sny that, dear little mother," Jacques ex-
claimed, as he affectionately kissed her hand.
" And if he was bored here," the Count rejoined, "if this sort
of idle life in the country did not suit him, I should not lih.nie
him in the leapt. It is a proper sort of life for an old man of my
nse who wants rest and solitude. But at Jacques' age a man
must think of the future, and devote himself to his profess ion.
Jacques has abilities which will secure success in any line he fol-
lows. He has studied for the bar. He has a decided talent for
speaking, but it is not by walking about a park that he will ac-
quire reputation, or by living at home that he will himself future electors."
prepare for
"
But my dear, the election which they are so excited about
'
here, takes place in two months!
"
I am not talking ot municipal elections I mean the approaching
general elections, where I hope to FCC Jacques cut a
considerable figure. But for that end it is necessary to take
measure beforehand, and to acquire a well-known name; that
once secured, all the rest will easily follow."
"Do you really think so," Madame de Vedelles exclaimed,
quite electrified at the prospect. George! only think if your
brother was to be, one day a deputy! Would not that be a
"
great honor?
' A great honor indeed, mother," George replied helping himself
meanwhile to some more chicken
"Are you appealing to George on the subject?" the Count
ambition for his
' Do you suppose he has any
bitterly asked.
brother? Would he had a spark of it for himself! "
George took no notice of his father's sneering remark, and
breakfast ended in silence.
As Madame de Vedelles rose from table, she looked out of the
window and saw three persons walking up the avenue.
"
Here
is company " she said. Jacques can you make out who they
are? I do not feel as if I had ever seen these people before."
"
It is M Toussaint Lescalle,
Jacques looked and answeredmother,
with his wife and daughter."
'
Yes, it must be Lescalle," the Count said.
" I sent for him
about some business matters but 1 wonder why he brings his
family here Does ho suppose that we are to be on a footing ot
intimacy with them?'
As soon as his mother uttered the word company, George had
disappeared. In the meantime the visitors had been shown into
the vestibule. Madame de Vedelles came there and civilly greeted
them The notary said that his wife had hastened to pay her
reflects to .Madame la Comtcsse, and had not been able to resist
the wish to present her daughter to her.
Thouu'h Madame de Vedelles was not a little bored with this
visit she answered in a grac'.ous manner, and when the Count