The International Monthly, Volume 3, No. 4, July, 1851Various
History
The International Monthly, Volume 3, No. 4, July, 1851
Various
Art, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Science -- History -- Periodicals
"'You,' said he, interrupting me, 'you are like what you think me, a man
of honor and heart. The proof that such is the case is, that, unable to
bear the consequences of a moment of weakness, you were about to die to
avoid the consequences of that error. Monsieur de Maulear,' continued
the stranger, and he took my hand with touching kindness, 'permit me to
restore you to life and happiness, for you have a family perhaps, and
children, and cannot abandon all thus. Listen to me,' said he, as he saw
me refuse the pocket-book he offered me; 'I had a father who was one of
the noblest and best of men. He died many months ago, and my tears tell
you how I regret him. I know that he is in heaven and blesses me for
what I do now, for thus he would have done. The money I offer you is a
part of his fortune, and I am sure I appropriate it as he would wish me.
To refuse this, Monsieur, would be to exhibit ingratitude to Providence,
which has evidently watched over you, in permitting me to hear and
induce you to pause.'
"'But,' said I, with deep emotion, 'you do not know me, and such a
service....'
"'Have I not told you,' said he, 'that in your sorrow you told me all.
Do not, however, think I wish to be useful without a condition. I exact
one, and you will excuse me for making it the consideration of what I
propose to do.'
"'What is it?' said I. 'You can exact any thing from man as the price of
his honor.'
"'Well, swear to me that you will never play again.'
"'I do, I do!' said I. 'I pledge my faith not to.'
"'Take this pocket-book then,' said the stranger. It is now ten o'clock,
and debts of honor should always be paid before noon.'
"'But your name, at least, I should know, Monsieur, before I take your
gold.'
"'An insignificant one, which derives its only merit from the virtues of
him who transmitted it to me. My name is Luigi Rovero.'"
"My father," said the Marquise, "my father, was it he who...."
She paused from a sentiment of respect and delicacy to the Prince.
"This, however, is not the only benefit he conferred on me. From the
effects of the emotion I had undergone, a horrible illness seized me,
and during this malady of long days and endless nights of suffering, my
new friend never left me. A crisis ensued; for three days my life was in
danger, and depended on the precision with which a certain remedy was
administered to me. For three days and nights he watched me without one
minute of repose, and he not only restored my honor but preserved my
life. Rovero was a very brother to me, and I passed a whole year at
Naples, living with him and never leaving him. A few months after I was
able to discharge my pecuniary obligation to him--my debt of honor was
beyond my capacity. Here is the portrait of the person who was so dear
to me," said the Prince, and he took from his pocket a magnificent gold
box on which was a miniature set with diamonds. "Look at it, my
daughter," said he, "and observe the noble face yours so often recalls
to me."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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