HASZAR.D’S GAZE'l"l‘l9. SEPTEMBER 8.

THE MERCHANT 0!‘ 8'1‘ HALO.

The great Catholic Feast of the Assumption on the 15th of August happening to fall on a Sun- day, and the weather hein superb, the usually dull and dirty town of St ale asauined an aspect of _ur_iunal joyanoe and brilliancy. The clear chiming of the cathedral and church balls, the Illml_t.od strains of several military bands, the chanting of priests and scolytes at tho head of numerous recessions of youn girls, dressed in "him: gar anded with flowers, and bearing lighted tapers in their hands, passing slowly along, to make their first communion, through buzzing crowds of admiring spectators, a large number of whom shone in the glory of regimentals, either of the Line or National Guard—produced s Illlglllllly gay and imposing sheet: and one would have supposed, that some sparkles of pleasurable emotion must have been excited iii the saddest

within reach of the exultsnt carillon of the streets. Not so, however. The fierce disquietude of M. Paul Fontanea, the prosperous and rising, if not as yet decidedly eminent merchant of the Rate Dupetit-Thouars, was exasperated thereby. not soothed, as he nervously tore open and glanced through a heap of correa ondence brought him that morning by the American mail. ‘ Curse the distracting din!’ he savagely exclaimed, as a more then usually joyous burst of military music mingled with and seemed to aharpeti the serpent- accents of a letter he had just opened. ‘ it is im- possible to comprehend what one reads.’ An exaggeration, at the very least, M. Paul Fontanss! Say the undulations of the music do assist in Iigzaggiug the lines before you, their purport is plain enough even to your throbbing eyeballs- plain and frightful-as ruin! bankruptcy—frnud- silent bankru tcy, which, according to a definition of the Code liapoleon, consists in recklessly tra- ding beyond your means; and the punishment which may be awarded for that ofl'ence—oh, it is easy to see you hear that also distinctly enough through all the din and bustle of the streets—is-- the gal ya!

The istory of M. Paul Fontanes up to this period of his life—-he was in his thirty-seecnd year-—rnay be very briefly sketched. He was the only much-indulged son of a cautiotis painstaking father, to whose property and business he had a few years ‘previously succeeded. The property consisted chiefly of about 80,000 francs, in cash and fentes, and the bttsiness was a profitable con. nection with the Mauritius, in consignments of colonial products. for sale in France. Fontanes file had not, unfortunately, ‘been long his own master, when his sanguine temperament, and Inxtety to become speedily rich, induced him not onty to enlarge greatly his sphere of commercial

' nation, but to change entirely its character, shipping large quantities of French goods to the American markets, for speculative sale, at his own risk. He had been for "some time tolerably oticccssful ; but fortune had oflate proved adverse; and in the letters now before him. he read the disastrous results of his last and boldest specula- tion in silks and brandies, upon which an immense loss liad_been sustained ; and he knew himself to be irrelrievably iitsolvent, to the extent of at least 100,000 francs. ‘ In about six weeks,’ he inurmiir- ed, nftern feverish glance at his private bill-book, and tearing open nnotlier letter, ‘ the mass of my acceptances for those goods, wlticli the reiriittances will scarcely more tltan half cover, fall due, and

eliall Ha. ! what is this? ’ The blood rushed swiftly back to M. Paul Fonianee’s palliit features

5' ‘<

Is he ran over, ill a hurried trembling sort of

confidential whisper to himself, the lines Wlllcll had suddenly caught his attention :—‘ With re.feren_ce to your inquiries concerning M. Jerome Bougainville, of Louisiana, we have to inform you, that tliattgentleman died suddenly on the 18th tilt. at New Orleans of fever, after having taken his passage for Europe per the Columbia «packet-ship, bound for Havrewle-Grace. By the next mail, we shall be able to forward an attested copy of the deceased's will, by which the bulk of his property—over twenty-sewn thousand pounds realised, and tem orarily lodged by deceased in the St Louis bank, where it of course still remains is bequeathed to his niece, Eugenie Bougainville, eldest daughter of the Sieur Edouard Bougainville, formerly captain in the l7th Carabiniors, for whom you are interested) burdened only hy a pension of_ two hundred a year to the said Edou- ard Boiigainville, with remainder to his daughters by a second marriage. We shall be glad to act for the aforesaid legatec; and if furnished with properly attested powers, and official proof of identity, there will be no difficulty in the way of the immediate transmission of the money, through such channel as may be adviscd.—Your obedient servants, Satire & Giiacit. New Orleans.’

M. Fontanes read"tliis letter over and over again each time with increasing palpitation of tone, before he seemed to have thoroughly mas- send its meaning. ‘Twenty-seven thousand

nods sterling l’ he présently exclaimed; near-

seven hundred thousand francsl Grand Dieu! —csn it be ibls ! And to Eugenie Bougain- 'vi'lle..the daughter of a beggar or the_rcobout—

_ebtsd to me something abouts thousand francs, which he can only pay by miserable dribblets of iastsltnen [always in arrsarl If the devil, now, wool nly help me to the possession of ‘I——- W ll ’

Henri Jomsrdo, a frank intelligent-looking young

"Jinn, in holiday attlrs, after tapping gently at the

door, had entered the room. probably mistaking lhe loud soliquiaing tones of M. Fontanes for per- mission to do so. He was that gsntlsman‘s prin- cipal clerk.

' Pardon, monsieur,’ said Henri Jomard in re- spectful deprecatioii of his employer's loud and angry ‘ ell!‘ ‘ Pardon, monsieur, but Mademoi- selle Bougainville ’ ‘ How l——what ! ’ ‘ Mademoiselle Bougainville,' repeated Jomsrd, ‘ having accompanied her youngest sister Marie from Plaisance to receive her first communion, is desirous to ‘see you, though not precisely a day for the transaction of business, to make a payment on account of the debt due by Monsieur Bougain- ville. Shall I ask her to come in!‘

An asseoting gesture was immediately followed by Mademoiselle Bougainville’s entrance. She presented herself with the graceful ease and ap- lomb which usually distinguishes a well-educated Frenchwoman. and said she had brought monsienr a hundred francs, in part liquidation of her father's debt. M. Fontanes took the small canvas uc, poured the silver upon the table, seemed to count it with his eye for a moment, and scrawled an ac- knowledgment. The shaking of tits hand, which could scarcely hold the pen, showed that his recent agitation had increased, rather than subsided.

‘ Monsieur has heard nothing, I fear,’ said Eugenie Bougainville as she placed the paper in her reticule. ‘in answer to the inquiries he has so kindly made relative to my uncle Monsieur Jerome Bougainville ? '

‘ Nothing. mademoisellc,’ was the quick reply ; ‘ that is,‘ added M. ontanes, as if recollecting himself, and glancing towards a number of un- opened letters—that is, notlting in either of the letters from America I have yet opened. Should, however, there be any intelligence concerning him in those I have not read, it shall be ini- imediately forwarded to Monsieur Bougainville.’ Mademoiselle Bougainville sighed. courtesied her acknowledgments, and left the office, escorted by Henri Jomard. They had hardly gained the street when the clerk was recalled.

' Tell Mademoiselle Bougainville,’ said M Fontanes, ‘ that if] have anything of importance to communicate,l shall do myself the pleasure of riding over to Plaisance this afternoon for that put ass. I suppose there would be no doubt of riding Monsieur Bougainville at home?’

‘ Assuredly nut, monsietir. It is his younzest daughter Mari.-‘s jour-do-fcle, and we shall of course have it dzuitre; therefore’ ‘\Ve!’ echoed M. Fontanes with quick inter- rogation. ,

‘ Yes--that is, Eugo-——Mademoi.-elle Bou- gainville,’ stammcred llcnriloinard. ‘ Being an intimate friend of my sister, I naturally accoiiipuiiy her when she pays a visit to Plaisance; and thus‘

‘ l understand. You may go, and do not forget to deliver my message.’ M. Paul Foiitanea rose and locked the door the instant it closed after his clerk, as ifdeterinincd not to be again interrupted and was soon profniindly meditating upon the probable and possible consequences of the day's American advices; the charming face and figure he had just seen helping, we m:iy be sure, to colour and direct his train of thought.

The result of his reflections was to talio an unusually early dinner, dress himself’ with great care. mount his horse, and ride olfin the direction of l’laisance—a small farmstead, seven miles distant from St Male, on the road to Arrauclics. Wlien about lialf-way, he turned off to visit a M. Messeroy, an old and intimate acquaintance. was fortitnalely not only at home. but without company ; and host and visitor gradually warming into eloquence over M. l'ilesseruy’s excellent wine, upon the crirrent topics ofihe day, the splendour ofthe weather, and of" the morning’s religious ceremonies, the improved tone of the markets, and of commercial affairs generally, M. Fontanes took occssioii, uftor a time. to remark in an off-hand careless sort of way, that his late American speculations had been attended with a success so much beyond his expectations. and they were sufficiently sanguine, that he had half: mind to try and make a bargain for Plais- ance. if it was still in the market. Plaisance was in the market. as M. Paul Fontanes well knew; and after much disputing and haggling, M. Fontsnes agreed to become its purchaser at the somewhat extravagant price of 45,000 francs, upon condition of possession within one month, and especially that it should be concealed from the world that he had entered into any negotiation for the farm till after its present tenant, M. Bougainville, had been ejected.

‘ Bougainville,' said M. Fiintanes, ‘ is a good fellow enough, and, spite of his poverty and unlticlrincss, is much respected. I should not, therefore, like to have it said that] had sought to deprive him of a home.’

‘ Rest satisfied on that point, my dear Foo’ ;nes,’ replied M. Mesaeroy. ‘ Bougainville is V much behind with his rent, that I was determined he should turn out at St ichel, og at anyrate at Christmas. But why do you purchase a house! Ho} ho! Maitre Paul; you are going to be married. are you‘ lhalf guessed so from the first. Well, courage! It is a fate which over- takes the best and wisest of us; and here’stbe |ady’s health, whoever she may be.’

‘ With all my heart! And c not forget that what is as serious as a wedding or funeral, -is

- .- (9

list, to-morrow by ten o'clock, I shall lodged five

thousand francs in your hands as a pledge of the completion of the bargain upon my part, if you do not fail on yours.’

' I'll take care of that, you may depend. Au revoir, then, if you will go: at ten to-niorrow.’

M. Fontanes regained the high-road. and tottered leisurely along towards M. llougainville’s. As he neared Plaiaance, the bridle-path, winding round at a considerable elevation from the level of the house. gave to view the smooth green-award in its front. upon which still fell tlis rays of the fast westeriiig sun in large patches of llolden light, or broken iiito tremulous light and shadow b the tall fruit-trees that partially enclosed it. '1! he sisters Bougainvills, and a number of young friends. were dancing thereon to the music of Henri .lomard's flute; and several aged guests, amongst whom the Sieur Bougainvilla was con- spicuous by his thin white hairs, erect military bearing, and the glittering cross upon his breast, were looking on, and, the male portioit of them. smoking, in apparently messureless content.

‘ Quite an Arcadian scenel ’ mentally snecred M. Paul Fontanes. ° Who would believe, now, that an abode of such rustic simplicity contains almost as grim a skeleton as mine does! el , we must contrive that they destroy each other, and then Monsieur Bougainville and I may sleep sounder than either of us has of late.‘

he dance was arrested as M. Fonlanes sp- a I I I II I j M II ‘ 'II

I 4 '- ' ' F

iirith whom he altnost immediately withdrew into the house. They were absent about ten minutes only ; and as, open their reappearance, the countenance of the veteran were its usual aspect of calm impassibility, dancing was resumed wit

increased spirit, and after a time was joined in by M. Fontancs, with Eugenie Bougainville for at partner. Respectful, subdued, yet ardent admi- ration—:idmiration surprised at itself, as it were, has seldom been more adroitly displayed than by

that gentleman upon this occasion; and whether the consciousness thereof, betrayed by Eugcnie‘s tell-tale blushes, was pleasurable or otherwise, it would have been difficult for a spectator to Pour Henri Jomard-whose flute, momently becoming weaker and more uncertain,

determine.

was at lastsupersed.-,d by a volunteer violin-

sat apart from the gay dancers, paitinlly conceal- ed from observation by his anxious and sym- ' Eugenie, however, must have noticed his agitation, for never had her roice and manner revealed so much of womanly tenderness» as on parting with him at the close of that sad

patliising sister.

and omnious evening.

' Eugenie,’ said M. lluugainville nfier alllin the house but themselves had retired to rest, ‘ I have ill news for thee. 'l'iiy uncle Jerome, whose "ll difficulty, after all, in asccitairting, grullly told the rmssepger who delivered the letter that it

ad-lrt-sa Monsieur l“ontaiies's agent had

would l’t‘CPl\'C no atisu-or.’

‘ llelns l ’ sighed Eugenie, ' lfearcd so ; and

he was our last resource ; ‘Our position is embarrassing,’ said the father,

with an tinsucccssful t-ll'urt to assume it more

cheerful tone. ' The lI.tl’Vf.‘Sl has been a had one; but things will not always turn out like that. Thy uncle has disappoiutcrl inc, l‘lll2(’lll0,' lie added after an interval of nielanclioly gilencc;

- ‘ but what, after all, could he expected of a man

who left France to avoid the coiiscriptir-ii’! ’

‘ Nay, father, let us be just. llavo l not heard you say that Unclc Jerome was betray ed in his affections by a faithless woman? ’

‘ 'l'iit, my girl! ’ rejoined M. Ilotigaiiivillc, with a levi'i_v ot tone contradicted by the kc.-on scrutiny of his look, which was, however, baffled by the ginning darkness of the room.

march through the rough wilderness of life.

have been pretty familiar with the flashes which herald rt-gil wounds and deatlt, and they did not

leap from maidens‘ ores.

‘ I am glad to hear,’ softly murmured ‘Eugenie,

‘that lieari-gnefs are so fugitive with men. Good-night, dear fatlisr.' ‘Good-night, Eugenie,’ said the veteran, cm-

bracing her with tenderness; ‘and be not too The guardian-angel is never

much cast down. forgetful ofa gentle and pious child like then.’

Before noon on the following day, the stock, farming-implements, and furniture at l’laisance were scquestrated by ' justice‘ at the instance of Pierre Messeroy, Ecuycr, for arrears of rent ; and M..BoogainAt'ille was at the same time served with notice to quit, according to one of the covenants of his bail. by which right to retain possession was forfeited by default ofrent-payment. ' Diable! but this is serious—terrible,’ murmured the old soldier; ' and unless l can obtain a loan of'—— M. Bougainville checked himself. and after a time added, addressing his dismayed and weeping family: ‘I shall set off at once for St Mslo. It is upon the darkest _ Perhaps my Old friend. Bertie the notary, may be able to

Courage, my children! hour of night that the new day breaks.

assist us in this strait.’

M. Bougsinville did not return home till about ten o'clock in the evening. The family were in bed, with the exception of Eugenia, whose anxiety was deepened by the pale excitement of

her father’_s countenance,

‘Eugenie, my girl,’ he said, after a few unsuccessful whiffs pt the pipe she resented him saith, ' come nearer to me; 1 wood speak with

' I am listening, father,’ said Eugenie, seating

herself behind her father.

‘ Lotto- wounds are rose-bricr at-ratclies m2rely—a momen- tary smart, that nritlier hinders nor contrbls one‘:

‘ Berlin cannot assist us, but-—— Eugenie, it is necessary, above all, that we_should be frank and open with each ‘other. Henri Jomard loves thee; there can be no doubt of that. o i. . well-principled brave lad. of fair prospects too, and the son of a brave father, who fell by my .id, at Eylau. There is no one with whom I would more readily trust thy happiness. But thou Inn never, think, shown any open decided pgg. feicnce for him ’ ’

‘ Never—hy words.’

M- Bougainville winced. but went on to say: ' ‘ That being so, i inay.tel| thee that Monsieur Paul l"ontaues—— Ah ! the tiame shocks thee- I will speak of him and his offers no more

‘ Yes, yes, dear father.’ murmured Eugenio, ‘It was a sudden, a slight pain ; that is all. Go on—speak l’ . ‘ As thou wilt. Monsieur Fontsnes, then, solicits thee in marriage. If his proposal is accepted, he will pay all thy father’s debts, purchase Plaisance of that tiger-hearted Measeroy and settle it upon thee beyond his own control.’ Eugenie did not answer, and M. Bougsinville added, after a few moments’ silence: ‘The case stands thus. Eugenie, Monsieur Fontanes is rich, generous, young, welllooliinii, of irre- [reachable character, and it is plain loves thee deeply. I doubt not,'tlierefore,. that after a time, thou ivouldst be a happy wife; but it is for thee

. to decide ; and my blessing, beloved Eugenie, is

on thy choice, whether for acce lance or refusal.’

‘ For acceptance, thou ! ’ replied Eugenie in a

low voice. the firmness of which surprised as much as it pleased M. Bougainville; ‘ but with this change in the terms of the pur—of the con- tract—that Plsisance be settled not upon me, but upon you, Francoise, an arie.’ M. Bougainville was charmed with this ready at-quiescence ; and when Eugenie made no objec- tion to M. Fontanet’s request, that the mhrriage should be celebrated without delay, he almost persuaded himself that he had been mistaken with respect to the sentiments she entertained towards llenil Joinard. 'l'lint pleasing illusion would have been dispelled had be known that Eugenie passed that night on her knees. weeping, at first with convulsive but gradually calming grief, before the crucifix in her bedroom.

The civil marriage was arranged to take place on the following Thursday, the condition of settlement to be signed at the office ofthe no ary Berlin, on the previous evening. These arrange- ments, at M l"ontanes’s urgent request, Eugenie remaining entirely passive, were kept, scrupnusly secret; on so successfully, that even Henri Jomard had no suspicion of what was‘ going on, till the Wcdncstlay morning, when he chanced to overhear sortie disjointed sentences ofit conversa- tion between M. l‘-‘ontzines and the riotary’s clerk, who had called at the Rue Dupetit-Thouars, which terminated by M. Foittsiit-s saying in a low voice: ‘ 'l'r-ll Monsieur llerlinl will send him the required particulars in writing before two o’i-lock.’ Astonishcd and iiidi-_vnz:nt at what he apprcheridcd the partially on-rlieard colloquy to mean, he, as soon as possible, invented an excuse for going out, and hastened to impart the dire discovery to his sister Adtlc, who, however, [llti\‘L‘d nlistiiiately incredulous. llis interpreta- lion oftlio sentences ho had imperfectly caught was, she pcrsistcil, that of an unreusoniiig jealou- sy M. Foiitancs had, her brother knew, rt pc- cuniaty transat-lion with M. llongainvillr-, and it was no doulvt with reference to that the two were to meet at the iioiriry-’.~: as the comcrsatinn seemed to intimate. Soiiicwhat calnr-‘ll by this consola- iory construction of the menacing words, llenri returned to his’ crnploynicnt. Tlioro was no one in the clr-rks’ office, and M. Fonttinca \\ as busy writing in his private room. Somciliing present- ly (\C(‘|ltl'(‘tl \\'lll('ll rendered it necessary that Henri should speak with hint; and as he did so, his eye fell upon a small pile of letters enclosed and directed. but not scaled, of \\lllCl| the top- most one was addressed to ‘M. llertin, Notsilec public. Nnincra 0, line S:ib|oniere.' Instantly the criminal thought. which only his excessive mental agitation could in the least excuse. sug- gested itself, that if he could obtain a moment’s possession ofthat letter before it was sealed, the doubts which half distracted him would be one way or the other wt at rest; and the possibility of effecting his object kept him for the next ten minutes in estate of feverish restlessness. The cltanct-. at lnngtli presented itself. The presence of M. Fontanes was required in a distant part of the warehouse; and his back was hardly turned, before Henri Jomard darted into the private cabi- seized the top letter of the pile, and extricated the enclosure from the envelope. Confusion! A glance at the address shswed him he had mis- taken the letter, the envelope in his hand being addressed to Messrs Smith and Creen, New Or- leans. Had he but unfolded :" s enclosure, what a discovery awaited him! Unfortunately. he threw it impatiently upon thetable, and seized the next upon the pile, which was that he sought.

on d he believe his eyes‘! ‘ M. I-‘ontanes, upon refiectlon, acquiesced in the change proposed by M. ertin in the marriage-contract, and would be at the notary‘s office unctuslly at five o’clock to meet M. and Ma emoisslls Bougsinville.’ Henri Jomard had hardly perused these lines, when the step of M. Fontanes was heard ap- aprosching. lie hurriedly thrust the lsttcrsinto their respective envelopes, replaced them on the letter-pile, and had barely retained the cnrtaiasd iconcealmeut of the clerks’ nice when the tatt-

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