THE ORPHAN OF THE RHINE
PART 1
The Orphan of the Rhine
by
Eleanor Sleath
Volume 1
Chapter 1
Thou art indeed ill-fated;
Snatch'd, when an infant, from thy nurse's arms.
And borne we known not whither.
--LANGHORNE
Near that
long tract of hills, known by the name of Mount Jura, was situated, in the year
1605, the cottage of Julie de Rubine; commanding on one side a view of Geneva
and its Lake, lying north of the town, and on the other an extensive plain,
covered with pine-woods and pasturage: beyond which arose, in various forms and
directions, that vast range of Alps which divide Italy from Savoy, forming a
natural barrier to Geneva and its little territory.
The owner
of this secluded retreat, having met with some peculiar misfortunes,
originating from the depravity of those with whom she was unhappily connected,
had disengaged herself from the world at that period of existence when it
usually presents the most alluring prospects; and accompanied by her infant son
and one faithful domestic, had taken refuge in retirement.
After
having passed some years in uninterrupted solitude, she was one evening
returning from a monastery, near Ripaille, which formerly belonged to the
hermits of St Maurice, whither she had been at confession, and was pursuing her
way through a large forest, whose vistas terminated upon the Lake, when she
observed a cabriolet move along at some distance before her, which afterwards
stopped at her door.
Before
Julie de Rubine arrived at her cottage, the traveller, who was a female, had
alighted, and on hearing her name, advanced some paces to receive her. She was
a tall thin woman, of a pale, healthy appearance. Her dress bespoke her of the
middle rank of life, and an infant that she held in her arms, which was
entirely obscured in a mantle, intimated that she acted in the capacity of
nurse.
After
having unfolded the occasion of her visit, the stranger presented the recluse
with a letter, which she informed her was from the Marchese de Montferrat. Julie
de Rubine started, and appeared much affected. The messenger observed these
emotions with concern, and endeavoured to remove the cause by introducing a new
subject of conversation. She discoursed upon the temperature of the climate,
the fineness of the weather, and related many little adventures they had met
with upon the road, not forgetting to recite the difficulties they had
encountered as they journeyed over the rocky steeps of Mount Cennis, on their
way from Turin thither, which she assured her had cost them much labour and
fatigue. Julie, who perceived the kindness of the intention, attempted to
subdue the acuteness of those feelings, which had prevented her from welcoming
the stranger with her accustomed courtesy, and, having in some measure succeeded,
ventured to turn aside the mantle with which the infant was covered, and beheld
a very beautiful female child, apparently about four months old. Having
expressed her astonishment that the stranger should travel so far with so young
a companion, she ordered Dorothée, her servant, to prepare some refreshment;
and taking the Marchesse's letter, with trembling hand she opened it, and read
as follows:
The
Marchese de Montferrat having, after many unsuccessful inquiries, discovered
the abode of Julie de Rubine, and wishing in some measure to compensate for the
misfortunes he has occasioned, is willing to offer his protection to her, and
also to her son, for whom he will hereafter amply provide, on condition that
she will take into her care a young female infant, and perform, in every
respect, the part of a mother. She is also requested not to make any inquiries
relative to the child, but to rest satisfied that there are reasons, which, if
known, would be deemed sufficient for the justification of his conduct, however
mysterious it may appear. If Julie de Rubine agrees to these proposals, the
Marchese will provide for her an asylum, in which she will find every
accommodation suitable to her rank; he will also send a person to convey her to
her new habitation, and will settle upon her a handsome annual sum as a
provision for herself and the children. He also considers that, to avoid the
effects of an impertinent curiosity, it will be at once prudent and necessary
to take another name and to assume the character of a widow. If Julie De Rubine
acquits herself in this affair with that uniform propriety of conduct which she
has hitherto never failed to support, she and her child have every thing to
hope from his patronage; but on the contrary, if she refuses to comply with his
desires, and presumes to disclose the most unimportant incident respecting this
circumstance to any individual living, she has everything to fear from his
displeasure.
Amazement
for the moment almost deprived the agitated Julie of reason! That the Marchese
should select her from the rest of the world, to act as a mother to the orphan;
her whom he had so materially injured, and that this child should be conveyed
to her under circumstances so peculiar, was equally surprising and
inexplicable! That it was deprived of maternal attention was beyond a doubt, or
why send it to her, to perform the part of so tender a relation? It might yet
have a father living, and who could that father be? An universal trembling
seized her as the idea occurred--an idea which the whole of the proceeding
apparently justified, that it was no other than the Marchese. She knew that he
had not been long united to a woman of high rank and considerable fortune, to
whom he had offered himself on an early and superficial acquaintance, when
resident in the neighbourhood of Padua, whither he had spent some time in the
society of a friend to whom he had been long attached. His love of gallantry
was too generally known to allow the probability of his affections being long
in the possession of any one; she, by melancholy experience, was convinced of
the truth of this assertion: the child could then be no other than the
offspring of an illicit amour. She knew that, previous to his marriage, he had
seduced the affections of a young Neapolitan beauty, the daughter of a
merchant, whose name was Di Capigna, less celebrated for external charms than
for those seductive and elegant accomplishments, 'that take the reason
prisoner'.
Her
father, she had been informed, did not long survive the loss of his daughter's
reputation, which event so seriously affected the Signora that she suddenly
left the Marchese, some believing that she was dead, and others that she had
thrown herself into a convent; but the truth of this singular affair was not
known.
Every
circumstance seemed to favour the opinion that this might be the child of the
Signora Di Capigna, whose birth, added to her own distresses, probably
occasioned her death. She had not indeed heard of an infant; but this,
considering the secrecy with which affairs of this nature are usually
conducted, was not a matter of surprise, particularly as the marriage of the
Marchese must have taken place before the birth of the child. Every thing being
thus collected, there no longer remained a doubt in the breast of Julie de
Rubine, but that this was indeed the daughter of the Marchese, and consequently
of the Signora Di Capigna.
The
conclusion of the letter contained a threat, if she refused to comply with his
desires; yet the pride of conscious innocence revolted at the idea of receiving
pecuniary support from a man, who had stooped to the most humiliating and
degrading falsehoods, merely to tarnish the brightest of all gems, a stainless
reputation. But when she considered the unprotected situation of her child, her
Enrîco, who would find a bitter enemy, where from the ties of nature he might
reasonably expect the tenderest of friends, her own inability to provide for
him, the hardships to which he might be exposed, pleaded powerfully the cause
of the Marchese, and staggered her accustomed firmness. This little innocent
too, sent to solicit her protection--what sorrows, what distresses, might it
have to encounter, what treatment might it experience from the harsh and the
mercenary! These reflections, excited by the unexampled generosity of her
nature, sunk deep into her heart, and elevated her above every ignoble and
selfish consideration. For herself she would have been contented to have lived
and died in obscurity, and would have endured without murmuring the severest
penury rather than have thrown herself upon the liberality of one, for whom she
now felt no softer sentiment than horror and resentment But her son had no
doubt a claim to his protection; on his part it might be considered as a debt,
not as a bounty; and as to the infant, a handsome allowance might certainly be
demanded for such a charge, without incurring an obligation; but the matter was
too important to be immediately determined. Silent and deliberating she quitted
her apartment, and returned into the room, where she had left the nurse and
child.
The latter
was now awake, and as Julie de Rubine pressed its cheek gently to her lips, it
smiled; she took its hand; it grasped her finger and she imagined looked as if
imploring her protection Agatha, Which was the name of the messenger, sent by
the Marchese observed these maternal attentions with apparent satisfaction. And
discovering much humanity and softness in the deportment of the recluse
endeavoured to direct these amiable traits of character to the advantage of her
employer by dwelling with a. Tender concern upon the beauty and innocence of
the child, from whom she lamented she was so soon to be separated. She
expatiated also on the generosity of the Marchese, extolling the benevolent
solicitude he had displayed in the cause of the infant, who but for him, she
added, might have perished for want, as few were at once invested with power
and inclination to patronize the unfortunate Madame de Rubine, after having
complimented the stranger upon her sensibility, inquired how long the infant
had remain under her protection, and was informed ever since it was born That
it was consigned to her care by Paoli, her husband, at the desire of the
Marchese, with whom he had resided some years in the capacity of steward; but
that whose it was, or from whence it came, she was incapable of ascertaining,
though she had sometimes ventured to interrogate Paoli upon the subject; his
answers being always short, undecisive, and frequently uttered with hesitation
and displeasure.
She then
demanded whether she herself saw the Marchese, and if any time was fixed for
her return? The former part of the question was answered with a negative; the
message respecting her embassy was also conveyed by her husband, who had
intimated a desire that the affair should be speedily determined as his Lord
had some thoughts of removing from the Castello St Aubin, his present residence
in the environs of Turin, to another estate to which he had recently succeeded,
in consequence of the death of a near relation, who, having suddenly
disappeared, was supposed to have been slain by banditti, as he was returning
from a remote province to his paternal seat; which mournful event had, she
added, so serious an effect upon his lady, that she scarcely survived the
intelligence; and during her illness the affectionate attentions of the
Marchese and Marchesa, who were sent for to assist and administer consolation,
so excited her gratitude, that she bequeathed them all her valuables.
Julie then
inquired if she was acquainted with the name of the nobleman whose life had
been terminated by this fatal disaster, and whether he was also an Italian, and
an inhabitant of Turin. But with these particulars Agatha was totally
unacquainted; she had, she said, endeavoured to gain some information upon the
subject, but her exertions had been at present unsuccessful, as a variety of
reports had been circulated in the neighbourhood, few of which assumed the
appearance of truth. She then modestly reminded Madame de Rubine of the
necessity of entering into a speedy determination concerning the child; as if
the proposals conveyed in the letter were rejected, she had orders to return
without further delay, that it might be committed to the protection of some
other, who would not scruple, in consideration of the terms proposed, to
undertake the important charge.
Julie,
having assured her that she would re-examine these proposals, and adopt, as
soon as possible, a final resolution concerning them, observed, that the infant
was again fallen asleep, and requested that it might be put to bed. Agatha,
being much fatigued, agreed to the proposition; and, after having laid the
little innocent to rest, and partaken of some refreshment with Dorothée,
retired herself to repose. But Madame de Rubine's mind was too much agitated
and perplexed with the strange occurrences of the day, to feel the least
inclination to sleep. The Marchese's letter, which contained such promises of
protection to her son, was flattering to the hopes of a fond and affectionate
mother. But could a man of his character be relied upon? Might he not, from
caprice, if not from a more reasonable motive, be induced at some future time
suddenly to withdraw that protection and might not this be more severely felt,
than if it had never been afforded? But could she with justice suppose this
possible? From his former conduct, without departing, in the smallest instance
from the native candour of her mind, he was unable to form a judgment upon his
conduct decisively to his advantage. To her she was sensible he had not
acquitted himself as a man of principle or of honour; but maturer years she
considered might have corrected the errors of youth, and her misfortunes,
united with those of the Signora Di Capigna, might have led to repentance and
reformation. There had been instances of many who had entirely forsaken their
offspring, exposing them without pity all the hardships of poverty and
oppression; but crimes of this nature were not become familiar to him; he
seemed interested in their unprotected situations, and was anxious to defend
them from the insults and cruelty of an unfeeling world.
The threat
which the letter contained, appeared to have been made use of merely for the
purpose of conquering those little scrupulous delicacies which might eventually
stand in the way of her son's advancement. If he was not concerned in their
welfare, why not have sent the infant to the care of some other; for doubtless
many would have received such proposals with transport. She was pleased to find
some traits of virtue in a character which resentment had for some time placed
in an unfavourable light; and being accustomed to behold every circumstance
with an eye of candour, she began to hope, at least, that the Marchese was
become a convert.
Weary and
irresolute, she retired to her apartment; but to sleep she found was
impossible. Enrîco lay in a small bed by the side of her's; his slumbers were
undisturbed, though a smile occasionally played upon his cherub lip. Julie,
with all the fondness of parental affection, stood and gazed anxiously upon him
as he slept. A tear fell upon her cheek when she reflected how soon the
serenity of that angel countenance might be disturbed-at some future time what
might be his suffering! A thousand mournful presages now arose in her mind; and
willing to divert her thoughts from so painful a subject, she walked pensively
towards the window.
It was a
calm and serene night; the moon slept upon the brow of the hill, and the whole
face of nature wore an appearance of gentleness and tranquillity. She thought
of the days of childhood, when she used to ramble with her father in the
stillness of evening, to hear the song of the nightingale. What vicissitudes
had she known since then! Could her parents have foreseen her misfortunes, what
would have been their anguish; and what was now their situation! Her
imagination then wandered to distant worlds; she raised her eyes towards the
stars of heaven; their number, the immensity of their distance, excited her
adoration and wonder! 'Possibly the spirits of the departed,' cried she, 'may
inhabit those glorious luminaries! How enviable is their situation; now how far
are they placed beyond the reach of misfortune; their griefs, their inquietudes
are now no more!' Full of these reflections she retired to her bed; but it was
long before she forgot in sleep the strange occurrences of the day.
In the
morning she arose early, and again perused the Marchese's letter. He had
mentioned nothing of the melancholy story which Agatha had imperfectly related,
nor of the large estates he had succeeded to in consequence of it. But this
being an event in which she was not immediately concerned, any information on
this subject might be deemed unnecessary.
As soon as
the nurse and child arose, Madame de Rubine again took the infant into her
arms, whose complexional delicacy and beauty equally attracted her admiration
and astonishment. Whilst she continued to gaze upon its sweet innocent
countenance, it appeared conscious of her attention; the soft sentiment of pity
was already ripening into affection, and she perceived, if she parted with it,
it would be with reluctance. She considered likewise it would a companion for
Enrîco, and that much domestic comfort might reasonably expected from this
lovely object of her compassion, the stillness of uninterrupted retirement,
particularly during the time of her separation from Enrîco; which, however
painful the reflection was, she was convinced in the present state of affairs
indispensably requisite, as he must endeavour, by every necessary exertion, to
secure promotion and independence in that department, which would eventually
prove the least repugnant to his feelings and inclinations. These suggestions
determined her to accept the proposals made to her by the Marchese; and, having
acquainted Agatha with her intention, she addressed a few lines to him in
return, in which she expressed her astonishment at this singular and unexpected
adventure; at the same time assuring him that, having consented to take the child
under her care, she was resolved to fulfil, in every respect, the part of a
parent; that he might also depend upon her secrecy in the affair, and as he had
offered her an asylum, which nothing but the welfare of the children could have
induced her to accept, she must desire that he would never attempt visit them
in their retirement, as she should consider an interview of that kind as highly
improper.
Agatha,
being impatient to return from her embassy, besought permission to depart;
which being granted, the carriage that had conveyed her hither, and was left at
a small inn near the cottage, was immediately ordered. She then took an
affectionate leave of the infant; and, after many tender adieus and good wishes
to Madame de Rubine, set forwards on her journey.
To be continued
