The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 03, No. 16, February, 1859: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and PoliticsVarious
History
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 03, No. 16, February, 1859: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
"But he will not go to marry himself in France," said her mother. "Oh,
these English." she added, with a laugh, "yourself, Monsieur, being
proof of it, will not mingle blood, lest the Channel should still flow
between the little red globules! You will go? but to return shortly?
You will dine with me soon? _Au revoir!_" and she gave me her hand
graciously, while Delphine bowed as if I were already gone, threw
herself into a garden-chair, and commenced pouring the wine on a stone
for a little tame snake which came out and lapped it.
Such women as Mme. de St. Cyr have a species of magnetism about them.
It is difficult to retain one's self-respect before them,--for no
other reason than that one is, at the moment, absorbed into their
individuality, and thinks and acts with them. Delphine must have had
a strong will, and perpetual antagonism did not weaken it. As for me,
Madame had, doubtless, reasons of her own for tearing aside these
customary bands of reserve,--reasons which, if you do not perceive, I
shall not enumerate.
"Have you met with anything further in your search, Sir?" asked my
valet, next morning.
"Oh, yes, Hay," I returned, in a very good humor,--"with great success.
You have assisted me so much, that I am sure I owe it to you to say that
I have found the diamond."
"Indeed, Sir, you are very kind. I have been interested, but my
assistance is not worth mentioning. I thought likely it might be, you
appeared so quiet."--The cunning dog!--"How did you find it, Sir, may I
ask?"
I briefly related the leading facts, since he had been aware of the
progress of the case to that point,--without, however, mentioning Mme.
de St. Cyr's name.
"And Monsieur did not inform me!" a French valet would have cried.
"You were prudent not to mention it, Sir," said Hay. "These walls must
have better ears than ordinary; for a family has moved in on the first
floor recently, whose actions are extremely suspicious. But is this
precious affair to be seen?"
I took it from an inner pocket and displayed it, having discarded the
shagreen case as inconvenient.
"His Excellency must return as he came," said I.
Hay's eyes sparkled.
"And do you carry it there, Sir?" he asked, with surprised, as I
restored it to my waistcoat-pocket.
"I shall take it to the bank," I said. "I do not like the
responsibility."
"It is very unsafe," was the warning of this cautious fellow. "Why, Sir!
any of these swells, these pickpockets, might meet you, run against
you,--so!" said Hay, suiting the action to the word, "and, with the
little sharp knife concealed in just such a ring as this I wear, give a
light tap, and there's a slit in your vest, Sir, but no diamond!"--and
instantly resuming his former respectful deportment, Hay handed me my
gloves and stick, and smoothed my hat.
"Nonsense!" I replied, drawing on the gloves, "I should like to see the
man who could be too quick for me. Any news from India, Hay?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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