“But to proceed: (nay, don’t kiss me so, or I shall never tell my story.) The next morning I heard that you had gone, as you had told me it was your intention; but my father’s horse did not come back—my father was grave, and the bishop more gloomy than usual. Two days afterwards I was informed by my father that you were an impostor, that all had been discovered, and that if taken you would probably be seized by the inquisition; but you had fled the country, and were supposed to have embarked at Toulon. He added, that my intended husband would arrive in a few days.
“I considered all that he had told me, and I formed the following conclusions:— First, that you were not the person you described yourself to be; and, Secondly, that he had discovered our attachment, and had insisted upon your not re-appearing—but that you had deserted me, and left the country, I knew, after what had passed, to be impossible. But whether you were Monsieur de Rouillé or not, you were all I coveted, and all that I adored; and I vowed that for you I would live or die. I felt assured that one day or another, you would come back; and that conviction supported me. My future husband appeared—he was odious. The time fixed for our wedding drew nigh—I had but one resource, which was flight. A young girl who attended me (you recollect her, she came and told us the bishop was coming, when we were in the garden), I knew to be attached to me. I took her in confidence, and through her means I obtained a peasant’s dress, with the promise of shelter in her father’s cottage, some leagues distant. The night before the marriage was to take place, I ran down to the river that flows past the château, threw my bonnet and shawl on the bank, and then made my escape to where her father was waiting to receive me, in a cart which he had provided as a conveyance. The girl, who was left, managed admirably: it was supposed that I had drowned myself; and as they had no further occasion for her services, she was dismissed, and joined me at her father’s cottage. I remained there for more than a year, when I thought it advisable to move, and come to Marseilles I where I obtained the situation of housekeeper to this old gentleman, who has treated me more like a daughter than a domestic. Now, Mr François, can you give so good an account of yourself?”
“Not quite, Cerise; but I can honestly declare, that when I thought you alive, I never forgot you; and believing you dead, I never ceased to lament you, nor have I looked at a woman since. Our old friend below can prove it, by my answer when he cautioned me against the charms of his housekeeper.”
I did not, your highness, tell the whole truth to Cerise; for I have always considered it perfectly justifiable to retain facts which cannot add to people’s happiness. I declared that I left her because my life would have been forfeited if I had remained, and I valued it only for her sake. That I always intended to return; and when I quitted Valencia, and had become a man of property, I immediately proceeded to make inquiries, and heard the news of her death. Neither did I acquaint her with the profession which I had followed; I merely stated that my father was a man of eminence, and that he had died rich—for although people of good family will sometimes bow to love, taking the risk of high or low birth, they are always mortified when they discover that their ticket in the lottery has turned up a blank.
Cerise was satisfied—we renewed our vows—and the old gentleman, who declared that of all the secrets in his possession ours would be the most dangerous to him if discovered, was not sorry to see us united, and quit the house.
I obtained two thirds of my fortune from the claimant; and with it and my wife repaired to Toulon.
For one year I enjoyed uninterrupted happiness. My wife was every thing to me, and so far from leaving her in search of variety, I could not bear to go out of the house unless she accompanied me: but we were living much too fast, and at the end of the year I found one third of my property had been spent. My affection would not permit me to reduce my wife to beggary, and I determined to take some measures to secure the means of future existence. Consulting her on the occasion, with many tears Cerise acknowledged my prudence; and having divided the remainder of my property, one half of which I laid out in merchandise, and the other I gave to her, for her support during my absence, I embarked on board of a vessel bound to the West Indies.
We made the islands without any accident, and I was extremely successful in my speculations; I began to think that fortune was tired of persecuting me, but knowing how treacherous she was, I shipped one half of my return cargo in another vessel, that I might have more than one chance.
When our captain was ready to sail, the passengers repaired on board, and amongst others a rich old gentleman who had come from Mexico, and who had been waiting for a passage home to France. He was very ill when he came on board, and I recommended his losing a little blood, offering my services on the occasion. They were accepted; the old gentleman recovered, and we were very intimate afterwards. We had been about a fortnight clear of the island, when a hurricane came on, the equal to which in force I never beheld. The sea was one sheet of foam, the air was loaded with spray, which was thrown with such violence against our faces that we were blinded; and the wind blew so strong that no one could stand up against it. The vessel was thrown on her beam ends, and we all gave ourselves up for lost. Fortunately the masts went by the board, and the ship righted. But when the hurricane abated, we were in an awkward predicament; the spare spars had been washed overboard, and we had no means of rigging jury-masts and making sail. There we lay rolling in a perfect calm which had succeeded, and drifting to the northward by the influence of what is called the Gulf stream.
One morning, as we were anxiously looking out for a vessel, we perceived something at a distance, but could not ascertain what it was.