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she had done, was now to be said and done over again. She, however, bore her disappointment without amur24 mur; aud continuing to be as submissivegras sweet tempered, and as attached as ever to her master, she: listened to his new secrets, and served him with the same fidelity as before.
But the marchioness was not of a disposition to give up so easily the heart of her Englishman. She set spies to watch him, soon dsicovered her rival, and, being determined to spare no pains to gain back or to punish Mr. Belton, she began by exhausting all the resources of cunning and intrigue to win him once more to her arms. Her efforts were fruitless. The Englishman left her letters unanswered, refused to meet her, and laughed at her threats. The marchioness, driven to desperation, now gave up her thoughts én. tirely to revenge.
One morning, about two o'clock, when, according to his usual custom, Mr. Belton, followed by Claudine, . was quitting his new mistress, and, already tired of her was telling his faithful Claude that he bad a great desire to return to London, all at once four ruftiaus, who were hidden at the corner of a street, fell with their daggers upon Mr. Belton. who had only just time enough to put his back to the wall, and draw his. sword. The instant that she saw the assassios, Clau dine threw herself before her master, and received in: her breast the stroke of the poignard which was aimed at Mr. Belton. She fell to the ground immediately.
Vitb exclamations of furry the Englishman darted. upon the villain who had wounded her, stretched bim upon the pavement, and then attacked the three others with such impetuosity that they took to their heels. Mr. Belton did not pursue them; he returned to big servant, raised him up, embraced him, and weeping called him by his name; but Claudine did not reply. Claudine had fainted. Mr. Belton took him in his arms, carried him to his residence, which was not far off, and laid him upon his own bed; then, while, by his direction, the rest of his servauts hastened to fetch. a surgeon, Mr. Belton, who was impatient to see whes. ther the wound was considerable, unbuttoned the waistu" coat of Claudine, drew aside the shirt which was covered.
my knees, must do ine honour, must ennoble ine in the eyes of those who know what' virtue is. Dong time
Claudine, did I forget that virtue, which is so clovely to · but it becomes more dear to me, since it is you that rez store it to my heart."hioli adu blot 1991 ais
Imagine to yourself the astonishment, the joy, the transports of Claudine. She would have spoken hut her tears prevented her. At length, preceiving the little Benjamin, who had been sent out with the rest, but who, anxious about his brother, had softly half opened the door, and thrust in his pretty face io see what was going on, Claudine showed him to Mr. Belton, and said, "there is your child, he will answer you better than I can." The Englishman darted towards Benjamin, clasped him in his arms, covered him with kisses, and, carrying him to his mother, he spent the evening in the company of his wife and child, with a contentedness of heart to which he had hithertó been a stranger. 1
000 sellist body In the course of a fortnight Claudine was quite re. covered. She had related to Mr. Belton all that had happened to her. The narrative had rendered her still more dear to the young Englishman, who was now much more enamoured of her than he had been the first time that he saw her. When she was able to bear the journey, Claudine, dressed as a female, but modestly attired, set out in the Englishman's carriage along with the little Benjamin; and all three, accord. ing to their new scheme, went straight to Salenches, where they alighted at the house of the reverend rector. The good pastor did not remember Claudine. The Englishman enjoyed his embarrassment for a few minutes. At last Claudine, einbracing him, reminded him of all his goodness to her, and informed him of the motive of their journey. The good rector returned thanks to Heaven ; and then ran to fetch Madam Fe. lix, who was still alive, and was ready to die of plea. sure to see Claudine and Benjamin again. On the morrow, they set out to Chamouny, where Mr. Belton, who was a catholie, wished that the marriage should take place publicly in the parish church of la Prieuré. 2The moment that they arrived in the evening, the young Englishman sent the rector of Salenches to the formidable Mr. Simon to ask the band of his daughter.
The old man received him gravely, listened to him without giving any great signs of joy, and replied
in only two
or three words, to give his consent to the match. Claudine hastened to him, to throw herself at his feet. The old man allowed her to remain there a few moments, raised her without a smile on his face, embraced her without clasping her to his bosom, and coldly bowed to Mr. Belton. The worthy, Nanette, who had been sent for the moment Claudine came, wept and laughed by turns. When they set out to the church, she carried Benjamin on one arm, and held her sister with the other; the two rectors walked before; Madam Felix came behind, along with Mr. Simon, whom she scolded occasionally; and all the children in the village followed them singing songs.
In this order they proceeded to the church, where the rector of Chamouny allowed the rector of Salenches to say the mass. The wedding was delightfully kept. Everybody in the village danced for a whole week. Mr. Belton had ordered tables to be laid out in the meadow, on the bank of the Arve, where everybody that pleased sat down. He bought an excellent farm for old Mr. Simon, who, however, refused to accept it, and was even angry with our rector, because he reproved him for refusing. Nanette was not so unbending; she accepted the farm, and a pretty house, which Mr. Belton gave her; and she is at this moment one of the richest and happiest people in our village, After hav. ing spent a month, Mr. and Mrs. Belton departed, with the benedictions of everybody: they are now in London, and Master Benjamin has already five or six brothers and sisters.
This is their story, which I bave not been able to shorten, because I have tried to tell it you as I have often heard the worthy rector tell it. If it has not amused you, I hope you will excuse me."
I gave many thanks to Francis Paccard, and assured him that I had been much affected by his narrative. My thoughts entirely occupied with the story of Claus dine, I then descended the Montanverd, and, when I reached Geneva, I wrote down the particulars, just as Paccard had related them, without even endeavouring to correct the faults of taste and style, which will undoubtedly be found in it by good judges. , 21.1.D.,