“Dreadful, my beloved children, is the tale I have to relate! I attended my ever-honoured master and mistress, as you know, on their journey. Tedious and wearisome it proved, for the roads were bad, the weather unfavourable, and horses sometimes not to be had, so that it was two days later than the time we had calculated upon when we reached the fatal sea-port. Would to heaven we had never entered its gates! The place and the few inhabitants we saw looked gloomy, as we did so; and on arriving at the inn, from whence my master’s friend had dated his letter, we were informed, with little ceremony or preparation, that he expired the day but one after he had despatched the messenger to the castle. Too soon we learned the direful cause, a malignant epidemic disorder was raging in the place, and daily sweeping off scores of its inhabitants. The poor gentleman, they told us, when he found himself dying, sent for a priest to pray by him, to whose care he consigned a parcel, with a charge to deliver it in safety to the friends who would come to inquire for him. I was sent in search of this priest, as soon as we could procure his direction. Alas! the poor man had himself soon after fallen a victim to the distemper, and none of his household knew any thing of a parcel, or had ever heard of the gentleman. The people of the inn were honest; they had taken good care of what effects he had with him, and delivered them to my master. The magistrates having issued strict orders, that all bodies should without loss of time be interred in an adjacent ground allotted for the purpose, to prevent, as much as possible, the infection spreading.
“Your dear father appeared overwhelmed with this unexpected calamity; and my excellent lady declared herself so fatigued in body, and harassed in mind, that it was absolutely necessary she should have some days of rest, before she undertook travelling again. In vain did I urge them to quit instantly a place, the remaining in which might be attended with so much danger. My master busied himself in inspecting all the property that had belonged to the deceased. He found clothes, money, and many letters, but none that gave him any insight into what so nearly concerned himself. On the second evening he felt ill, and retired early to his bed, from whence he never again arose. An hour or two served to convince us, that he was seized with the fatal disorder; and so rapid was its progress, that a few more decided that no hopes of recovery could be entertained. My poor dear distracted mistress quitted not his bedside night or day, though I plainly perceived by her looks on the third morning, that she had taken the infection. I too was growing very ill, but of myself I could take no thought. On the fourth day, my ever-honoured and lamented master breathed his last. Well do I remember the look of silent agony with which your blessed mother contemplated his remains! I remember too her being conveyed into another apartment, and a physician administering a medicine to her. After that, all is a blank in my mind. I knew nothing that passed, and the first consciousness of existence I experienced, was awaking, as it appeared, from a stupor, and finding myself in bed, with an old woman, who looked like a nurse, sitting at some distance from it. On hearing me move she came to me, gave me something to moisten my mouth, and going out of the room, returned with the physician I had seen before, who feeling my pulse, told the woman the crisis was over, and taking a favourable turn; but that I must be kept quite quiet. Some days passed before I had strength to rise, or to hear the particulars the people had to relate. Too soon, however, was I made acquainted with the awful facts. My mistress survived her loved lord but three days, and both had long been consigned to the earth. The physician, who was remarkably humane, had himself attended to the care of their effects, and visited me constantly during my delirium.
“To what misery did I recover! and what torture to me was the sight of every object in this scene of disease and desolation! As soon as my debilitated frame would permit me, I set out on my dreary journey, to be the bearer of these dismal tidings.”
Gabriel had proceeded thus far in his melancholy detail uninterrupted by a word, or even a voice, so deeply was the attention of his audience rivetted upon him; but now sobs and groans resounded on every side. Adrian held his hands to his head, which seemed bursting with the violence of his feelings. The castle rang with the screams of Amaranthé, and Claribel fell senseless into the arms of a maid servant who stood near her.
Miserable, indeed, was the situation of these unfortunate orphans. Left without fortune, without protection, in this joyless abode, life presented a gloomy prospect before them; yet, how were they to enter a world in which they would feel themselves total strangers, and of the ways of which they were wholly ignorant? Adrian had gathered just knowledge enough from the discontented murmurings of his father, to believe that riches would secure the best reception in it; and his thoughts were continually turned towards the attainment of them; but, uninstructed in all the employments of life, what method could he take in the pursuit? Many vague and romantic schemes presented themselves to his mind, with which he would entertain his sister and cousin, and to which they listened with interest, but without the power of assisting or advising him.
One afternoon, as the mournful trio were sitting together in a saloon, that opened with glass doors upon the lawn, bewailing the loss of their parents, and their own helpless state, there suddenly appeared before them a lady, whose countenance was fair and captivating; her figure graceful, and her dress light and flowing. They involuntarily rose at her entrance, though astonishment kept them silent. She approached them with a gracious smile, holding in her hand a basket, which appeared to be filled with a profusion of beautiful flowers. “My children,” said she, “I am of a race of beings of whom I know you have heard, though probably never expected to be acquainted with. I am the Fairy Felicia; I would have been the friend of your father, but his own conduct prevented it. My elder sister, Benigna, who is more powerful than I am, had long been the friend and protector of your mother: she is all excellence, but more strict, and imposes greater restraint upon those she takes under her care than I do. She disapproved the marriage with your father, which offended him so highly, that he forbade his lady ever holding farther intercourse with her; and Benigna, in return, forbade me ever attempting to serve or befriend him, which I was well disposed to do. The errors of the father, however, are not to be visited upon the children. Moved with compassion for your hapless situation, I am come to take you under my future patronage, if you choose to accept of it.”
Adrian and his sister, bounding with joy, threw themselves at the fairy’s feet, while the former exclaimed, “O, Madam, how can we sufficiently thank you for thus taking pity on our forlorn state. We are, indeed, miserable orphans, without a friend in the world; and how rejoiced must we be to place ourselves under so powerful a protector!” Claribel too, though not given to raptures, endeavoured to express her satisfaction, but in a voice so low that it was scarcely audible by the side of her vociferous cousins.
“Observe then,” said the fairy, “that you secure my good offices only by deserving them. If you prove unworthy of my kindness, I shall feel it proper to forsake you; and you will be left in a more deplorable state than this from which I am now desirous to relieve you.” The brother and sister protested again and again, that they should never forgive themselves if they could be guilty of any thing that would incur the displeasure of so good and generous a friend.
“I shall judge of your wisdom,” answered Felicia, with a smile, “by your choice.” She then displayed her basket, and they discovered that though they thought it had contained a variety of flowers, there were but three sorts. These consisted of the finest damask roses, in full blow; beautiful hyacinths of the brightest azure blue; and simple lilies of the valley, but whose fragrance was delicious to the senses.
“This,” said the fairy, holding up one of the first, “will bestow immense, but not inexhaustible riches on its possessor. As long as they make a right use of their wealth, they will find no end to it; but if spent in licentious profusion, that gratifies only luxury and pride, or churlishly grasped solely for their own advantage, without a wish to relieve the necessitous, or benefit their fellow creatures by it, then will the rose begin to wither, and the riches, and its bloom disappear at the same time.