by Eugène Sue
CHAPTER IV.
THE LOST LETTER.
Abbot Boujaron's worried looks, the disorder into which his wig, hisneckerchief and his cloak were thrown, threw the Marchioness of Tremblayinto such alarm that, wholly forgetting the subject of her conversationwith Mademoiselle Plouernel, she cried: "My God, Abbot, what hashappened? You are all upset; you seem to be in great excitement; youlook as if you had just come out of a scuffle."
"I have good reason to be uneasy, dear Marchioness. I have mislaid theletter that we wrote this morning to your nephew--the confidentialletter that you know of."
"What!" replied the Marchioness visibly terrified. "Was not the letterput carefully folded in the pocket of your coat? I put it there myself.It can not have been mislaid."
"I was on my way to the house of the person whom, as we decided, I wasto call upon in order to obtain some further information from him andadd it to the letter, on which account it was left unsealed, when,crossing a large square, I was overtaken and soon found myselfsurrounded by a big crowd clamoring for the death of the De Wittbrothers and the French."
"What De Witt brothers?" asked the Marchioness. "Are they the twointractable republicans whom Monsieur Estrade spoke to us about when hereturned from his embassy to this country?"
"They are both of them men cast in the mold of Plutarch, to judge bywhat Monsieur Tilly, our host, was telling us of them yesterday,"observed Mademoiselle Plouernel, emerging from the revery in which shewas steeped since the arrival of the Abbot; "I could not tire of hearinghim speak of the domestic virtues of the two brothers, whom he considersto be the greatest living citizens of Holland, and men of distinguishedprobity."
"My dear daughter," answered the Abbot, "our host belongs to the samepolitical party as those De Witts; as such he has his reasons to givethem a high place--in your estimation."
"But the letter," put in the Marchioness with increasing anxiety, "howcomes it to be mislaid, perhaps lost?"
"Swallowed up, as I found myself, by that loudly vociferating mob thatwas rushing towards the prison where one of the two De Witt brothers isconfined; pushed, hustled, shoved about, and almost suffocated by thatplebeian flood, the current of which was carrying me away despite allthat I could do, I made frantic efforts to extricate myself from thesurging crowd; in my struggle my frock was unfastened, and I suppose theletter dropped out as I was being whirled about--unless I inadvertentlypulled it out myself when I took my handkerchief to wipe theperspiration that streamed down my forehead, after I had finallysucceeded in getting clear of the bawling, threatening and swearingmob."
"I am distracted at the loss of that letter. It may fall into the handsof and be read by some indiscreet fellow--you understand me,Abbot?--that would be most disagreeable and compromising."
"I understand you but too well, Marchioness! Only too well! I thereforewent twice over the road that I traveled, but all in vain; I could notfind the letter! Most unfortunately it was unsealed. The most scrupulousman would have been justified to cast his eyes over it--and thus informhimself upon its contents."
"Truly, aunt," put in Mademoiselle Plouernel, "I fail to understand thedeep anxiety that the loss of a letter, that seems to have been writtento my brother in order to inform him of the delay in our arrival inEngland, can cause you and Monsieur the Abbot. The matter is a trifle;it can have no serious results; cease to fret about it."
"There are things, my niece, the wide bearings of which you can notunderstand," answered the Marchioness of Tremblay sententiously; "it isenough that you know that the loss of this letter is most regrettable."
At this moment the Marchioness's lackey entered the room afterannouncing himself with a rap at the door, and said to his mistress:
"Madam, there is a man who asks to see Monsieur the Abbot without delayon an important matter."
"Who is he?"
"He is a Frenchman, madam."
"Does he seem to be noble?"
"Yes, madam, he carries a sword."
"Marchioness," said the Abbot excitedly as if struck by a suddenthought, "it may be this individual found the letter, and is bringing itback to me. God be praised! our alarm will be at end! Oh, I hope it maybe so!"
"But how could the stranger know your address?"
"Did I not write to Raoul that we were stopping with Monsieur Tilly?"
"In that case, Abbot," replied the Marchioness with an accent of extremeapprehension, "the stranger must have read the letter! We would have astranger informed upon our plans! We must have light upon this, andquickly."
And addressing the lackey:
"Introduce the stranger immediately, and then withdraw."
"The more I think upon it," said Mademoiselle Plouernel to herself,astonished and pensive, "all the more unexplainable does my aunt's andthe Abbot's uneasiness seem to me."
The personage whom the lackey introduced into the salon was a man ofabout forty-five years of age; he was simply dressed, without lace orembroidery; for all sign of rank he wore on his shoulders a scarlet knotof the color of the feather in his grey felt hat, and the ribbon of hissword that hung from a leather baldric. The tawny complexion of thestranger, his quick, penetrating eye, black as his moustache, seemed toindicate a southern extraction. Of middle size, robust and sinewy,resolute in his port and endowed with a physiognomy in whichintelligence and wit vied with boldness, everything about him revealeda man of energy and decision, but so completely master of himself thatnothing, except what he had no interest in concealing, would be allowedto rise to the surface. The new personage presented himself in the salonwith complete ease, bowed respectfully to the Marchioness and her niece,and looked from the one to the other in silence with so marked, so fixeda gaze, that the Marchioness of Tremblay felt embarrassed and said toher niece:
"Come, Bertha, let us withdraw to my chamber, and leave Monsieur theAbbot with monsieur."
Bertha of Plouernel was preparing to follow her aunt when, after havingagain contemplated the young maid, the stranger bowed once more to theMarchioness, and said:
"If Madam the Marchioness will allow, the interview that I desire tohold with her and with monsieur, Abbot Boujaron, will take place in thepresence of Mademoiselle Plouernel. It is proper, it is even necessarythat this should be."
"You know us, monsieur?" said the Marchioness, not a little astonished."You know our names?"
"I have the honor, madam; and my little knowledge extends further thanthat," answered the stranger with a singular smile, again casting apenetrating glance at Mademoiselle Plouernel, as if he sought to judgeher mind by the expression on her face. On his face, in turn, theevidence of a heightening interest in the girl could be detected. But asthese manifestations passed unperceived by Bertha, she felt hurt by thepersistence of the stranger's gaze, she blushed, and taking a steptowards the door of her aunt's chamber said to the Marchioness:
"Excuse me, aunt, if I go and leave you with the gentlemen."
"Mademoiselle," said the stranger warmly, as he divined the maid'sthoughts, "I conjure you, do not impute the obstinacy of my gaze to adisregard of the respect due you, and with which I am profoundlypenetrated; I sought to read and I did read on your features theuprightness and nobility of your heart; I doubly congratulate myself onbeing able to render you a service, a great service."
"Me, monsieur?" answered Mademoiselle Plouernel in great astonishment,yet struck by the accent of unquestionable sincerity in the stranger'swords. "What service can you render to me, me whom you do not know, andwhom you now see for the first time? Be kind enough to explain yourselfmore clearly."
"Monsieur," said the Marchioness haughtily to the stranger, as he wasabout to answer Bertha, "you introduced yourself into this house underpretext of soliciting an interview, which Monsieur Abbot Boujaron hascondescended to grant you. That notwithstanding, you have hithertoaddressed mademoiselle only--a violation of propriety towards me andMonsieur the Abbot."
"Moreover, monsieur," added the Abbot, "we are wholly in the dark as towho you are. Your langu
age is as strange as your visit."
"I am your obedient servant, Monsieur Abbot," answered the stranger,bowing with sardonic courtesy, "and I shall, if you please, answerMademoiselle Plouernel, who has done me the honor of asking me what theservice is that I am happy enough to be able to render her. The serviceis summed up in this simple advice: Mademoiselle, go not to England;refuse to undertake the voyage."
A tremor ran over Bertha's frame; for an instant she remained dumb withstupefaction, while, scarlet with confusion and apprehension, both heraunt and the Abbot exchanged significant looks that betrayed theirembarrassment. Struck speechless for an instant, Mademoiselle Plouernelturned to the stranger and asked:
"And why, monsieur, do you warn me against the journey to England?"
"For two reasons, mademoiselle, two important reasons--"
"Monsieur," the Abbot interrupted the stranger with, in an icy tone, "Iwish to call your attention, first, to the fact that you have committeda breach of confidence; secondly, that you have not understood a word ofthe letter that you found and that you took the freedom of reading--anindiscretion that a man of good breeding would have carefully guardedagainst."
"And I, in turn, will call your attention, Monsieur Abbot," retorted thestranger, "first, to the fact that to read an unsealed letter, found onthe pavement of a public thoroughfare, is no breach of confidence;secondly, that, without priding myself on being gifted withextraordinary intellectual power, yet am I intelligent enough tounderstand the value of words. For that reason I have advisedmademoiselle not to go to England, and resolutely to refuse toundertake the journey."
"Monsieur," broke in Bertha with profound feeling, as she yielded to asudden and painful sense of danger that flashed through her mind. "I askit as a favor of you, explain yourself clearly. Be good enough to giveme your reasons for the advice."
"One moment, my dear child," the Abbot hastened to interpose, in orderto parry off the stranger's answer; "I am the writer of that letter; itis for me to speak intelligently upon it. I can tell monsieur that thedespatch which he read is addressed to an envoy of his Majesty Louis XIVat the court of his Majesty Charles II, and that it deals with verydelicate affairs of state. Now, then, I must add, that unless one be themost reckless of men, which I certainly am not, one does not conduct acorrespondence upon matters of such a nature, except in cipher, or bymeans of enigmatic phrases, that bear a double sense, both of which seemperfectly logical on their face, but the real purport of which remainssecret between the correspondents themselves, who are alone able tointerpret it. It will be well for monsieur to understand that."
"If that is the case, Monsieur Abbot, there will be nothing left to mebut to admit a mistake," replied the stranger with mock humility, "amistake, however, that was quite excusable, and of which I requestMademoiselle Plouernel herself to be the judge," he added, taking theletter out of his pocket, "from the terms in which this interestingmissive is couched."
"Monsieur, the reading of the letter is wholly superfluous, it beingestablished that the letter no wise concerns mademoiselle."
"No doubt," replied the stranger, "mademoiselle is not touched upon init except in an enigmatic and mysterious manner. Accordingly, whenMonsieur the Abbot writes to Monsieur the Count of Plouernel:
"We have all reason to hope that your sister's matchless beauty will produce a lively impression upon the King of England when she is presented to him, and may induce him to decide--"
"But, monsieur, that is intolerable!" cried the Marchioness, "you areoutrageously abusing our patience--you compel me to request that youleave our presence!"
"Monsieur, I listen to you," observed Mademoiselle Plouernel, "andbelieve me, I shall never forget the service that you will have renderedme. Be kind enough to continue the reading of the letter."
Recognizing the futility of any further objection to the reading of thedespatch, the Marchioness and the Abbot crossed their arms, raised theireyes to heaven and assumed the appearance of resigned innocence.Addressing himself to Bertha the stranger proceeded:
"I shall pass over the details of the incident at sea that obliged thevessel on which you, mademoiselle, had embarked, to put in at the portof Delft. I now come to the interesting portion of the letter:
"You informed us, my dear Raoul, that the influence is on the wane of Mademoiselle Kerouaille, who is now the Duchess of Portsmouth and was taken to Charles II by his sister, Madam the Duchess of Orleans, at the beginning of this year in order to urge the libertine King more effectively, by means of the charms of the beautiful Krouaill and a present of a few millions, to sign the treaty of alliance between England and France against the Republic of the United Provinces; you add that, in even measure as the influence of the Duchess of Portsmouth wanes, waxes the ascendency of my Lord Arlington, a bitter partisan of the alliance between England, Spain and the United Provinces, over the vacillating and profligate Rowley, as the familiars of Charles II call his Majesty, and that the said my Lord Arlington has for his assistant and agent a certain Nell Gwynne, a low-lived creature, an incarnate she-devil, who swears, curses, drinks and gets drunk like a trooper, but whose sprightliness, noisy hilarity and brazenness seem greatly to delight his Majesty. From all of this it may hap, as you indicate, that, aided by the nymph and the doubloons of Spain and the Republic, King Charles, after having tired of Mademoiselle Kerouaille and dissipated the present of several millions bestowed upon him by our own master under the pretext of _catholicity_, may go so far as to break the alliance with France and return to the alliance with Spain and the Republic of the United Provinces. Meditation upon those grave possibilities suggested the thought to you, my dear pupil, that the magnificent eyes and challenging beauty of our own Bertha might operate a salutary change in the now unfavorable disposition of old Rowley, counterbalance the influence of Nell Gwynne, and confirm King Charles in his alliance with our master. Struck by the importance of your suggestion, over which madam your aunt and I have long reflected, the expedient seemed excellent to us and also so pressing, that, without answering you, and resorting to an innocent ruse, we have persuaded your sister that you were taken so seriously ill as to induce her to proceed with us to England. We prepared the agreeable surprise for you, but the violent storm of which I gave you a sketch compelled us to put in at Delft. I am now writing to you from The Hague, in order that you may not feel uneasy at the prolonged delay in our answer.
"So then, my dear pupil, at our speedy arrival in England you are expected to have so completely recovered from your sickness, with the help of God, that there will be no trace of it left to be seen. You will then hasten to present at the court of London Madam the Marchioness of Tremblay and Mademoiselle Plouernel. So that, unless our justified expectations should unhappily be dashed, King Charles, dazzled by the matchless beauty of our Bertha, will be set aflame as usual. We have all reason to hope that your sister's matchless beauty will produce a lively impression upon the King of England when she is presented to him, and may induce him to decide to continue the alliance with France against the United Provinces.
"I must admit, my dear boy, that I contemplate with no less delight than yourself the huge satisfaction that such a result must afford our master; and I can well understand how in your letter you judiciously passed in review the prodigious favors that were showered upon Monsieur Vivonne from the time that his sister, the Marchioness of Montespan, was honored with the attention of the King, and had the august honor of presenting him with progeny. Accordingly, if our project succeed as we wish, although the affair will have to happen in England, you will not therefore, my dear pupil, in what concerns the favor of our master, be any less the _Vivonne_ of our beautiful _Montespan_.
"I wish to add that, having put my sojourn at The Hague to good use, I have
come to the conclusion, arrived at upon my own observation and after certain conversations that I had with a member of our Society, who is not suspected of belonging to us, A. M. D. G. (conversations, the import of which I shall add at the post-script of this letter, which I shall seal at the house of the good father) I have come to the conclusion that a formidable blow can be dealt to this bedeviled Republic, this hot-bed of heresy, by--"
But the stranger broke off his reading of the letter, and addressingMademoiselle Plouernel:
"The rest of the missive only refers to some confidential communicationsfrom a member of the Society of Jesus, to which Monsieur the Abbot hasthe privilege of belonging, or, rather, with which he is affiliated.These confidential communications, mademoiselle, are of no interestwhatever to you, since they only refer to the affairs of the Republic.When I read this letter, which fell into my hands by the merestaccident, I revolted at the thought of the unworthy role prepared for ayoung girl who was ignorant of such machinations, and was, perhaps,worthy of profound respect. Accordingly, I decided to enlighten her uponthe dark plot that was being concocted against her. Such, mademoiselle,was the only purpose of my visit to this house; and when I read in yourface the nobility of your heart, and the loftiness of your sentiments Iapplauded myself doubly for having been able to inform and warn youconcerning the disgraceful projects of your aunt, and to enlighten youupon an odious intrigue."
An interval of silence followed the communication of Abbot Boujaron'sdiplomatic missive and the last words of the stranger. Although nailedto the floor with consternation, both the Marchioness and the Abbot wereastonished at seeing Mademoiselle Plouernel listen to the reading of theletter without the slightest interruption. Indeed, the young girlremained speechless, overwhelmed; her eyes were fixed in space, herbosom heaved, and her lips were contracted in a desolate smile.
"Monsieur," she finally said, addressing the stranger with an accent ofprofound gratitude, "it goes beyond my power to express to you mygratitude for having judged me favorably, and I shall, in your presence,declare my thoughts in full upon this affair to my aunt, the Marchionessof Tremblay." And addressing her aunt in a collected voice she proceededdeliberately: "I now know, madam, how you and my brother proposed toexercise towards me the guardianship with which you were entrusted; Ishall spare you my reproaches; they could not be understood of you; youlack the moral sense; but this much I here declare to you--I shall notgo to England, and I am resolved no longer to live with you, madam,neither at Paris nor at Versailles; I shall henceforth never leaveBrittany; I shall reside at Plouernel or at Mezlean, having the right tolive in my father's house."
"My God, mademoiselle," replied the Marchioness with sardonicbitterness, "your virtue is strangely resentful and savage! Why such adisplay of anger? Your brother considered that your presence at thecourt in London might be of some service to the King our master. Whereis the harm in that, I ask you to tell me? Would you not remain free, atfull liberty to encourage or reject his Britannic Majesty's advances? Ifnot to you, then there will be others to whom King Charles may addresshis homage."
"Monsieur, did you hear?" said Mademoiselle Plouernel, turning towardsthe stranger and unable to conceal the disgust that her aunt's wordscaused her. "Could the infamous thought be expressed morediscreetly--the thought that my dishonor should subserve the violence,the cupidity, the ambition and the vainglory of princes bent uponoppressing the people!"
"Mademoiselle," said the stranger, deeply affected and struck with theadmirable expression of the young girl's features as she uttered thelofty words that he had just heard, "some day, perhaps, I may remind youof your brave malediction of the oppressors."
Not a little surprised at these words, Mademoiselle Plouernel was aboutto ask the stranger for an explanation, when Monsieur Tilly entered thesalon. The new arrival seemed a prey to overpowering emotion. His facelooked haggard, his gait was almost tottering. The moment, however, thathe noticed the presence of the stranger, he hastened to him, saying:
"Monsieur Serdan, do you know what is going on in the city?"
And taking him aside Monsieur Tilly spoke to Monsieur Serdan for severalminutes in a low voice, after having politely excused himself with theMarchioness for holding in her presence a private conversation, thegravity and urgency of the subject being his apology for suchdiscourteous conduct.
"That bad man's name is Serdan. Do not forget it, Marchioness,"whispered the Abbot; "he must be one of our King's enemies--and also anenemy of the holy Society of Jesus. Forget not his name--_Serdan_."
"I shall remember it well, my dear Abbot; and there will be others tolearn it also. Oh, if we only were in France! A _lettre de cachet_ wouldthrow the insolent fellow into the Bastille, he would sleep there thisvery night, and he never would come out again."
Mademoiselle Plouernel relapsed into her own painful train of thoughts,while her aunt and the Abbot exchanged a few words in a low voice, andMonsieur Tilly continued to impart the news of the day to MonsieurSerdan, who, after hearing him to the end, exclaimed: "But that would bemonstrous! No! No! Impossible!"
"After what I have just learned, there is hardly any room left to doubtthe execrable iniquity that is about to be perpetrated," put in MonsieurTilly. "For the rest, within an hour, I shall know all--we shall thentake council together."
"But what does John De Witt think of all this?"
"Relying upon his brother's innocence and upon the justice of thetribunal, can he remotely suspect such barbarity? I shall proceed to hishouse after issuing orders to the cavalry of The Hague, which I commandand with which I can count, to keep themselves ready to take horse. Ianticipate a serious riot."
"I shall meet you at John De Witt's house. There are two of mycountrymen from Brittany whom I wish to introduce to him. Until you denyor confirm the horrible tidings that you have just imparted to me, andwhich I must still doubt, I shall not say a word to John De Witt on thesubject," answered Monsieur Serdan.
And making a profound bow to Bertha of Plouernel: "Should I never againhave the honor of meeting you, mademoiselle, I shall ever preserve themost touching remembrance of the loftiness of your sentiments. Butshould I meet you again, I shall allow myself to remind you of the noblewords that you uttered in favor of the downtrodden."
As he was about to leave the room, Monsieur Serdan said to MonsieurTilly: "I shall await you at John De Witt's residence. Do not delay."
"I shall be there shortly, so soon as my dispositions are taken,"answered Monsieur Tilly.
Upon Monsieur Serdan's departure, Madam Tremblay assumed her mostsmiling expression and observed to Monsieur Tilly:
"What an amiable man this Monsieur Serdan is! Tell us, I pray you,monsieur, where is he from? where does he belong? who is he? what is hisrank? We feel particularly interested in him. We should be pleased to beedified on that subject."
"Please excuse me, Marchioness," answered Monsieur Tilly, "at thismoment I am pressed for time and have no leisure to post you fully uponMonsieur Serdan. He is an honorable man and close friend of mine. I camein haste to impart to you, madam, some rather disagreeablenews--terrible things that our city is just now the theater of."
"What is the matter, monsieur?" inquired the Marchioness. "This morningthe Abbot noticed considerable excitement among the populace. Arematters assuming a grave aspect?"
"Yes, madam, there is an intense excitement in The Hague. It is theresult of two circumstances--one, the manoeuvres of the agents of thePrince of Orange, the head of the party opposed to that of the De Wittbrothers; the other--pardon, madam, the frankness of my words--the othercircumstance is the report of the atrocities committed in our country bythe armies of Louis XIV. There are letters circulating in The Hagueto-day from several of our provinces which the royal troops haveinvaded. The atrocities that those letters report the French army guiltyof have exasperated our people. Our party is charged with connivance inthese deeds, and even with complicity in the treachery of Louis XIVtowards the Republic; and we are re
ferred to as the _French party_because our party sustains the policy of the De Witts in the matter of aFrench alliance. I enter into these details, madam, in order to informyou that, such is the popular effervescence at this moment, you wouldrun grave risks if you were to be seen on the streets and recognized asFrench. I therefore take the liberty to impress upon you, as well asupon Mademoiselle Plouernel and the Abbot, the wisdom of remainingindoors to-day. Finally, should there be any serious disorders on thestreets, do not show yourselves at the windows. Even so, I pray to Godthat the house may be respected in case popular passion becomesinflamed, as I much fear it will be. I need not add, madam, how painfulit is to me to find the hospitality, that it has been my honor to tenderto you, disturbed in such a way!"
Mademoiselle Plouernel listened in silence to this conversation, andseeing both her aunt and the Abbot turn pale, even tremble and exchangefrightened looks, the young girl said to them with bitter irony: "Whatelse do you expect? We are not here at the court of Versailles! Here theperjury, the iniquity, the deeds of violence of your master appear intheir true and horrible colors. Who knows but this very day the deservedexecration, inspired by 'Louis the Great' for himself, may cost us ourlives! Oh! Thank God, it is only with joy that I would at this hourleave this world, to reunite myself with my mother!"
Mademoiselle Plouernel owed to her mother her virile hatred of wrong,her independent spirit, her opinions so wholly at variance with thosethat prevailed at court. To her mother also she owed her firm faith inimmortality, the faith of our own Gallic forefathers. Brought up in theReformed religion, Madam Plouernel was forced to embrace Catholicismwhen still quite young, and yielding to the importunities of her fatherand mother, she espoused the Count of Plouernel. At the bottom of herheart, however, she preserved, her abjuration notwithstanding, that"Huguenot leaven," the generous ferment of which imparts to thecharacter sooner or later a spirit of independence, and of free inquiry.Madam Plouernel's marriage was far from being a happy one. After shepresented two sons to her husband, he, feeling certain of thecontinuance of his stock, ceased to pay any regard to his wife. Intentupon indulging his scandalous amours, he left her in Brittany in theCastle of Plouernel, where she was thenceforth to live in absoluteseclusion, with no other care or happiness than the education of heryoungest child Bertha.
The Countess had a brother, who was tenderly devoted to her. Bold and ofan adventurous disposition, he devoted himself to the navy. When still ayoung man he commanded a royal frigate. Having remained a Huguenot, likehis admiral, Duquesne, he detested the despotism of Louis XIV, and nevermade his appearance at court. Dearly loving his sister, and wellacquainted with the immoral character of the Count of Plouernel, hesought, though in vain, to dissuade his family from a marriage the sadconsequences of which he clearly foresaw, and he embarked upon a longand distant cruise. Kept far away from France by a variety of events, helearned, upon his return home, of the sort of exile that his sister wasdoomed to, and of the excesses of her husband. Sorrow and indignationcarried away the impetuous mariner. He proceeded to Versailles, andthere, in a crowded gallery, in plain view of all the courtiers, hestepped straight toward the Count of Plouernel, overwhelmed him withbitter reproaches, and forgot himself to the point of exclaiming:"Monsieur, the infamous cynicism of your conduct and your shameless actsof adultery are an outrage to my sister and a flattery to your master!"This allusion to the amours of Louis XIV was speedily carried to thedespot's ears. He flew into a violent rage, and that same day the Countof Plouernel's brother-in-law was taken to the Bastille and thrown intoone of its unhealthiest dungeons, where he was left to languish for thespace of two years, at the end of which he died. Her brother'simprisonment and death afflicted Madam Plouernel profoundly, and steepedher heart in irreconcilable detestation for Louis XIV. This fresh sorrowincreased her domestic infelicity. She divided her time between Bertha'seducation, study and reading. The library of the castle, established ageneration before by Colonel Plouernel, consisted in part of worksimbued with the spirit of the political and religious independence ofthe Reformation. The Countess nourished her mind with the virilesubstance of those writings. Her favorite books were those whichbreathed the strictness of morals, the loftiness of thought, theinflexible love of justice, the austerity of honesty that the avowedenemies of the Huguenots themselves give them credit for. Among thebooks collected by Colonel Plouernel she found an admirable treatise onthe druid creed and traditions, "thanks to which the Gauls were freedfrom the evil of death," inasmuch as they looked upon death as thesignal for a complete re-birth towards which the soul winged its wayradiant and reclad in a fresh garb. This faith in the immortality of ourbeing, in spirit and matter, the passionate curiosity kindled by thethought of incessant migrations through unknown and mysterious worlds,in short, that creed, so consoling to hearts that are crushed under theweight of present sorrows, soon became the faith of Madam Plouernel, andimparted a powerful impulse to the development of her noble qualities.Brought up in almost complete seclusion by a mother who adored her, andin whom she, in turn, reposed absolute faith, Bertha of Plouernel couldnot choose but imbibe the maternal convictions and opinions. In whatconcerned the recent ignoble action of her own family, Bertha'ssentiments flowed also from the philosophy of her training. Her aunt andAbbot Boujaron, thrown into consternation by the tidings brought to themby Monsieur Tilly with regard to the popular indignation in The Hagueagainst Louis XIV and the French, remained a prey to distressingapprehensions, while Monsieur Serdan hastened away to the residence ofJohn De Witt, the Grand Pensionary of Holland.