The Chevalier's daughter

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

If I had had the power of life and death in my hands, I should at that moment have laid both of these men dead at my feet. In my rage, I actually looked around for a weapon, and it was well for all parties that there was none at hand. Then, as the conviction of my utter helplessness and desolation came over me, I burst into an agony of tears.

"Hush, my daughter!" said the priest. "These tears do not become you. Let your natural affection for your parents be laid upon the altar of that church which they spurned, and it may become a merit. Indulged, it is in your case a sin against God and our holy religion."

My uncle, devout Catholic as he was, had not lost all feeling, nor was he a man to be put down in his own house even by a priest. He silenced the Father by a look, and then set himself to soothe me, saying that though he had thought it needful to tell me the truth, he should not visit upon me the misfortune of my birth, but should continue to regard me as a daughter so long as I showed myself dutiful to him and to my aunt. He bade me retire to my room and compose myself, saying that he would make my excuses.

"I am going into the country for a few days," said he. "When I return I shall hope to find that you have recovered your spirits and are prepared to submit to any arrangement your friends may think it best to make for your welfare."

My uncle gave me his hand as far as the door of my apartment, and parted from me with a fatherly salute, recommending me to lie down and rest awhile. He was very kind to me for the rest of the day, and seemed by his manner to wish to make me forget the harshness he had used toward me.

The next morning he called me into his own room and put into my hands a letter he had written to my Lord Stanton. It was to the effect that, having embraced the Catholic faith, and being resolved in future to make my home with my father's brother, I desired to have all my property put into the hands of Monsieur de Fayrolles, my natural guardian.

"You will copy this letter," said my uncle, "and I will inclose it in one of my own to my Lord Stanton. If he is an honest man, he will see the justice and wisdom of such an arrangement. If he is not, I must take other measures, for I am resolved not to be cheated of my right. Sit down here and copy the letter."

I had nothing for it but to obey, my uncle all the time standing by and observing me. When the copy was finished, he inclosed both letters in an envelope, and was just about sealing them, when my aunt called upon him. With an expression of impatience, he laid down the unsealed letter and went into the next room. In a moment I had turned down the corner of the sheet and written in small characters, "Don't, for Heaven's sake."

It was the work of a moment, and when my uncle returned he found me reading a book I had taken from the table. He reproved me for opening a book without leave, but seeing that it was only a play of Monsieur Racine's I had taken up, told me to keep it if I liked. He sealed the letter without looking at it again, told me he was pleased with my compliance, and gave me a gold piece to buy ribbons with, as he said. I was not sorry to receive it, for I was already turning over in my head plans of escape, and I knew that any plan I could form would need money to carry it out.

My uncle was absent several days, and came back in anything but a good humor. He had not succeeded in finding the treasure, if there was any to find, neither had he succeeded in letting the land. The house, having been reduced by the fire to a mere empty shell, had partly fallen in and filled up the cellars, while of the vault under the chapel, he said the whole floor seemed to have sunk into some abyss.