“Yes,” she cried, “in every feature he is the living resemblance of my
poor lost Morlaix,” then for some moments she seemed to be absorbed in
thought; at last after a seemingly violent struggle, she continued,
“Paul, you have refused to accept any portion of that fortune to which
you are legally entitled, although you know the wealth of the Auray
family is unbounded--and that the fortune which I inherit in my own
right, from the family of Sablé, is very large.” Paul shook his head.
“Well, then, there is one thing that you must receive from your mother,
as her parting gift. It is twenty years since I have dared to look
upon it, and yet I have clung to its possession--it is your father’s
portrait, presented to me when I was authorized to receive it--when, by
the assent of both our families, he was to have become my husband--take
it, my dear son, for although it tears my heart to part with it, yet I
feel that I shall be more tranquil when it is in your possession--to no
one but yourself would I have given it. You will sometimes look upon it,
and you will think of your mother, who must now remain for ever isolated
from the world. But it is better that it should be so--henceforward all
my moments shall be spent in making my peace with Heaven.”
While saying these words, she had drawn from her pocket a case, which
she put into Paul’s hands, and which he had eagerly opened, and gazed
with intense interest at the features of his father. The miniature was
richly set in diamonds of great value.
Then summoning all her fortitude, the marchioness for the last time
kissed her son, who was kneeling before her, and tearing herself from
his arms, she returned alone to the castle.
The next morning the inhabitants of Port Louis vainly sought the frigate
they had seen only the evening before, and which for fifteen days had
remained at anchor in the outer roads of Lorient. As on the former
occasion, she had disappeared without their being able to comprehend the
cause of her arrival, or the motive of her so sudden departure.
EPILOGUE.
Last scene of all
That ends this strange, eventful history.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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