The Mysteries of Paris, vol 2 | Page 9

extreme paleness of Louise, and the utter abstraction with which
she seemed oppressed, in spite of her father's deliverance. Wishing to
completely satisfy the Morels as to apprehensions about the future, and
to explain a liberality which might otherwise betray suspicions as to the
character he thought proper to assume, Rudolph said to the lapidary,
whom he took to the landing (while Miss Dimpleton broke to Louise
the news of her sister's death):
"Yesterday morning a young lady came to see you."
"Yes, sir, and appeared much distressed at the situation in which she
found us."
"It is to her you must return thanks, and not to me."
"Is it indeed true, sir? That young lady--"
"Is your benefactress. I have often waited upon her with goods from
our warehouse. The day before yesterday, while I was here engaging an
apartment on the fourth story, I learned from the portress your cruel
position. Knowing this lady's charity, I went to her. She came, so that
she might herself judge of the extent of your misfortunes, with which
she was painfully moved; but as your situation might be the result of
misconduct, she begged of me as soon as possible, to make some
inquiries respecting you, as she was desirous of apportioning her
benefits according to your deserts."
"Good and excellent lady! I had reason to say--"

"As you observed to Madeleine: 'If the rich knew,' is it not so?"
"How, sir!--you know the name of my wife! Who told you that?"
"Since six o' clock this morning," said Rudolph, interrupting Morel, "I
have been concealed in the little loft which adjoins your garret."
"You, sir!"
"Yes, and I have heard all that passed, my honest man."
"Oh, sir! but why were you there?"
"I could employ no better means of getting at your real character and
sentiments. I wished to see and hear all, without your knowledge. The
porter had spoken to me of this little nook, and offered it to me that I
might keep my wood in it. This morning I requested him to permit me
to visit it; I remained there an hour, and I feel convinced that there does
not exist a character more worthy, noble, and courageously resigned
than yours."
"Nay, sir, indeed I cannot see much merit in my conduct; I was born
honest, and cannot act otherwise than I have done."
"I know it; and for that reason I do not praise your conduct but
appreciate it. I had quitted the loft to release you from the bailiffs when
I heard your daughter's voice. I wished to leave her the pleasure of
saving you; unhappily the rapacity of the bailiffs prevented poor Louise
from enjoying so sweet a delight. I then made my appearance.
Fortunately, I yesterday recovered several sums of money that were due
to me, and I was able to give an advance to your benefactress by paying
for you this unfortunate debt. But your misfortunes are so great, so
unmerited, so nobly sustained, that the interest felt for you and
deserved, will not stop here. I can, in the name of your preserving angel,
assure you of future repose with happiness to you and yours."
"Is it possible? But at least tell me her name, sir--the name of this
preserving angel, as you have called her."

"Yes, she is an angel; and you have still reason to say that the great and
the lowly have their troubles."
"Is this lady, then, unhappy?"
"Who is there without their sorrows? But I see no cause to withhold her
name. This lady is called--"
Remembering that Mrs. Pipelet knew that Lady d'Harville had come to
her house to inquire for the Commander, Rudolph, hearing the
indiscreet gossiping of the portress, said after a moment's reflection: "I
will tell you the name of this lady on one condition--"
"Oh, pray, speak, sir!"
"It is, that you will repeat it to no one. You understand!--to no one."
"Oh, I will solemnly promise that to you. But cannot I at least offer my
thanks to this savior of the unhappy?"
"I will ask Lady d'Harville, and I doubt not she will give her consent."
"Then this lady is--"
"The Marchioness d'Harville."
"Oh, I shall never forget that name! It shall be my saint, my adoration!
To think that, thanks to her, my wife and children are saved! saved!--no,
not all, not all, my poor little Adele, we shall never see her again. Alas!
but it is necessary to remember that any day we might have lost her, for
she was doomed." Here the poor lapidary brushed the tears from his
eyes.
"As regards the last sad duties to be performed for this little one," said
Rudolph, "trust to my advice; this is what must be done: I do