The Mississippi Bubble: How the Star of Good Fortune Rose and Set and Rose Again, by a Woman's Grace, for One John Law of LauristonHough, Emerson
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The Mississippi Bubble: How the Star of Good Fortune Rose and Set and Rose Again, by a Woman's Grace, for One John Law of Lauriston
Hough, Emerson
Law, John, 1671-1729 -- Fiction
"What is it?" she cried. "Is not this the residence of Monsieur Law?"
The officer saluted, and the few loiterers gave back and made room, as
she stepped fully into the street and advanced with decision towards
those whom she saw.
"Madam," replied the Swiss, "this is the residence of Monsieur L'as, and
this is Monsieur L'as himself. I fear he is taken suddenly ill."
The lady stepped quickly to his side. As she did so, Law, as one not
fully hearing, half raised his head. He looked full into her face, and
releasing himself from the arms of his servant, stood thus, staring
directly at the visitor, his face haggard, his fixed eyes bearing no
sign of actual recognition.
"Catharine! Catharine!" he exclaimed. "Oh God, how cruel of you too to
mock me! Catharine!"
The unspeakable yearning of the cry went to the heart of her who heard
it. She put out a hand and laid it on his forehead. The Swiss motioned
toward the house. And even as the officer wheeled his troop to depart,
these two again ascended the steps, half carrying between them a
stumbling man, who but repeated mumblingly to himself the same words:
"Mockery! Mockery!"
CHAPTER XIII
THE QUALITY OF MERCY
Within the great house there was silence, for the vistas of the wide
interior led far back from the street and its tumult; nor did there
arise within the walls any sound of voice or footfall. Of the entire
household there was but one left to do the master service.
They entered the great hall, passed the foot of the wide stairway, and
turned at the first _entresol_, where were seats and couches. The
servant paused for a moment and looked inquiringly at the lady with whom
he now found himself in company.
"The times are serious," he began. "I would not intrude, Madame, yet
perhaps you are aware--"
"I am a friend of monsieur," replied Lady Catharine. "He is ill. See, he
is not himself. Tell me, what is this illness?"
"Madame," said the Swiss, gravely, "his illness is that of grief.
Monsieur's failure sits heavily upon him."
[Illustration]
"How long is it since he slept?" asked the lady, for she noted the
drooping head of the man now reclining upon the couch.
"Not for many days and nights," replied the Swiss. "He has for the last
few days been under much strain. But shall I not assist you, Madame? You
are, perhaps--pardon me, since I do not know your relationship with
monsieur--"
"A friend of years ago. I knew Mr. Law when he lived in England."
"I perceive. Perhaps Madame would be alone for a time? If you please, I
will seek aid."
They approached the side of the couch. Law's head lay back upon the
cushions. His breath came deeply and slowly, not stertorously nor
labored.
"How strange," whispered the Swiss, "he sleeps!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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