THE EXAMINER.

23.2

— RR - ee te enn ti

vury it, and the only one amongst them who did not| obliged to struggle against that capricious fickleness of fall beneath the heavy fire of the enemy.’ purpose which hitherto had influenced ‘his actions, to

‘Then you could give some indication on the subject ;, surtnount the mpulses of weariness and disgust, and to you could help'to find them?’ inquired Charles anxi-| resist the importunities of his former companions in dis- ously. sipation.

‘So much the more readily, replied Vincent,‘ because} This was at first a difficult task. Many atime his ‘he captain made us take as our point of reconnaissance, courage failed, and he was upon the point of returning the parallel bearings of a rock and two hills which}to his former habits; but his earnest desire to attain neiped to mark out the spot.’ ithe proposed end reanimated him in his course. Each

‘So you would remember it ?’ \time that he brought to the veteran his weekly savings,

‘{ could point it out as precisely as the position of|ahd perceived how insensibly they were increasing ‘in the bed in this room.’ amount, he experienced a renewal of hope which gave

Charles sprang from his seat. ‘Your fortune then is; fresh ardour to his endeavours—it was only a little step made! he exclaimed, energetically. ‘Why have you) towards his end, but still it was a slep. Besides, each been silent so long. The French government would|day the effort became easier; for in proportion as his have accepted any proposition you might have made to} life became more regular, his tastes took a new direction. them. |The assiduity with which he laboured throughout the

‘ Very likely, replied Vincent; ‘ but anyway, my in-|\day rendered his evening repose more welcome; the

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PELE TNS ASAT

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you this evening for talking over your secreta, and morrow we will speak of business.’

The next morning the old man, taking his neple: aside, announced to him that the sum which wag r: - quired for their journey was now complete, and that they might set off for Spain as soon a3 they please«. This news, which onght to have enchanted Charles, filled him, on the contrary, with painfi] emotion. “‘T'c think that he must leave Susan at the very moment when their intercourse was becoming such a source « happiness—that he must encounter all the uncertaintics of a long and difficult journey, when it would have been so sweet to stay in his now happy home! The young man was almost ready to curse the millions which he must go so far to seek. Since the time when he had gained a new object of interest in life, his desire {i riches had, gradually lest its hold upon his mind, Whe use was there in seeking for wealth to purchase happ --

formation could have been of no use.’ ‘ Why so?”

separation from his noisy and reckless companions lent|ness ?-—he had found it already. He did not, however, a new charm to the scciety of his uncle and his cousin.}express these thoughts to his uncle, but merely declared

‘Spain refused the required permission: iook at this,’ Susan, too, had recovered her gaiety,as well as her frank|himself ready to accompany him at an hour's, notic: He held out to the young mana second paper, which/ familiarity of manner. Her every thought was given to|The old soldier reminded him that age was less hasty

announced, in fact, that the demand for permission to search for the tumbrils which had been buried by the French in 1812 onthe banks of the Douro had been retused by the govérnment of Madrid.

* But ceuld one not do without this permission ?’-in- quited Charles, ‘ Where is the necessity of attempting officially a search, which might be made quietly without any displap. Once upon the spot, and the ground purchased, who could prevent the search

‘IT have thought about it many atime for the last thirty years,’ continued the veteran; ‘but where was I to find the money necessary fer the expenses of the journey, and for the purchase of the field ?’

‘Would it mot be possible to apply to some one “cher than ourselves, and to put them in possession of ine secret.”

‘ But how should we make them credit ous reportse— our prevent. our canfidence being abused, if they did oelieve it? And if by any chance we should fail in the attempt, or if it should turn out, as in the fable, that when the hour of partition came, the lion should keep the whole of the prey for himself, should we not then, in addition to. the fatigues of the journey, and the un- certainties of success, have to brave the miseries of a lawsuit? Of what use would all this be, tell me? Is it worth my whilé to take so much trouble for the few days I have yet to live? No, no;the millions may rest in peace as far asI am concerned. I have a retired pension of two hundred francs: thanks to the good help of my little Susan, that, with the small yearly sum at- tached to my cross, is sufficient to supply me with tobacco and my daily rations. IT Jangh at all -other wants as I would at a detachment of Cossacks.’

‘And so you will let this opportunity escape ‘you ” continued Charles with feverish earnestness. ‘ You will refuse all this wealth ?

_ ‘For myself, most cheerfully” replied the old man; ‘but for you it would be different. I could perceive just now that you were ambitious ; that you wottld con- sider no sacrifice too great which would enable you to acquire riches, Well, then, amass the sum which would be necessary for our journey, and I will accompany you to the spot.’

‘ You!—Are you in earnest °”

‘Earn two thousand franes, and then I will bring you

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her aged uncle and to Charles; and each day her care-|than youth in its movements, and asked for a few day’s ful love adorned their humble home with some fresh delay previous to their departure. ‘Meanwhile, I wish, charm, and drew still-closer those bonds of tenderness |Charles,’ said the old man, ‘ that you would borrow fror: and affection which can make the lowliest dwelling the|our neighbours those old newspapers which tell of the abode of happiness and peace. Charles was quite sur-| famous depot on the banks of the Douro; we can lool: prised at finding in his cousin attractions which he hadjover them carefully together, and may perhaps find never before discovered. She became insensibly each|some information that shall be useful to us on our arriva! day mgre necessaryto his happiness. Without his being|there.’ aware of it, the aim of his life was gradually changing;} The young man having made the desired application, the hope of attaining the treasure promised by Vincent!they were, in the course of half an hour, seated side by was no longer his only spring of action:, in all he did,|side, poring over some well-thumbed papers, Charles he now thought of Susan; his constant desire was t6|at first found only the details with which he was already merit her approbation, to become dearer toher. familiar—the refusal of the Spanish government—tie The human soul is a sort of moral daguerreotype: let{ fruitless researches of some Barcelona merchants. He it be surrounded by images of order, of industry, of self-|thought that every doeument had been read, when his

devotion ; let it be illuminated by the sunshine-of affec-|glanee rested upon a letter signed by a certain P.

tion; and each of these images will imprint themselves | Dufour. upon its surface, and remain there for ever firmly fixed.| “Peter Dufour!’ repeated Vincent; ‘that was the Phe life which Charles was now leading gradually|name of the quarter-master of the company.” extinguished his ardent ambition: he-saw within his} ‘So he is called here, replied Charles. reach a purer and simpler happiness than any of which} ‘Heaven save me! I thought the brave old boy wae he had ever before formed a conception; his paradise }in the other world loag ago; he was the confederate «” was no longer a fairyland. such as the ‘ Arabian Nights’ jthe captain. Let us see what he has to say for himself.’ depict, but a narrow circle, peopled with homely joys} Instead of answering, Charles uttered-a ery of disap which he could with difficulty embrace within his grasp. | pointment; he had looked over the letter, and on pe:- And yet this transformation, visible to all around him, !using its contents, had turned deadly pale. remained a secret to himself. He did not know that he} ‘What on earth is the matter?’ inquired Vincent. was changed, he only knew that he was more tranquil] ‘The matter, indeed!’ repeated the young workman. and more happy. The only new feeling of which he|* The matter is, that if Dufour speaks truth, we may as was conscious was his love for Susan, The treasure he} well stay at home.’ was labouring for, instead of being his principabobject,|’ * Why ? he looked upon only as a-means towards niaking his} ‘ Because the tumbrils were filled with powder insteac. union with Susan more joyous. He looked forward to!of silver!’ it as an important addition, but still only as accessory to! Vincent clapped his hand to his forehead with an ex- higher hopes; also he now began to feel the greatest/clamation of surprise and disappointment. Susan lai! anxiety to know whether his Jove was shared. down her work, and fixed her eyes mournfully on he~ He was one evening pacing the little apartment,/cousin. The latter was the first to recover fram the while Vincent and Susan were chatting together beside! atupor occasioned by this unexpected discovery. Afier the stove. Their conversation turned on Charles’s former{a few moments, he rose up with a look of cheerful ani- master, who, after thirty years of a life passed in honest|mation, and approaching Susan, seized her hand, ex- labour, had just put up to sale his httle bookbinding|claiming, ‘After all, here is my best treasure—one % establishment, that he might retire te the country with}would not give up for all the silver that may be buried his aged wife for the remainder of his days. in Spain and France too! So cheer up, good uncle, anc. ‘Now that is acouple,’ said the -old soldier, ‘who|let us make the best use of what is leftto us. Wit. knew how to turn the world into a paradise; always of|true hearts and strong hands we can never be poor.

to the very spot where the treasure lies concealed. Will that satisfy you?

‘Satisfy me, uncle? ctied Charles in a transport of joy. Then checking himself, he added in an anxious tone, ‘But how can ever scrape together so much money? Itnever can be done.’

one mind, always in good humour, and fully occupied,’|Can we, Susan ?’

« ‘Yes, replied Susan, thoughtfully, ‘the richesteouple} ‘Never,’ she replied; and her eyes expressed eve.

on earth might well envy their lot.’ more unbounded confidence than wag. inplied in tho Charles, who had just then approached the stove,|single word uttered by her lips.

stopped a moment, and looking fixedly at his consin, he old man slowly raised his-head, and repeated ih»

inquired, ‘Then you would lixe your husband ‘to-love| well-known proverb, *‘ L7homme propose mais Dicu dv

‘Work courageousty, and bring me your pay regularly

every week. I promise you there will be:no diffieulty|

in accomplishing it.’

‘Remember, uncle, what a trifle the savings of a workman can amount to.’

‘That is my look-out.’ i

‘How many years will be necessary?’ —

‘You were just now ready to sacritice eighteen years, as well as an eye and anarm, in the same canse.’

‘Ah, if I were only sure!’ .

‘Of acquiring a treasure? I swear to you by the ashes of the Little Corporal that you shall.’

This was the soldier’s great oath. Charles saw that he was serious in the matter. Vineent encouraged him inew, by assuring him that his future fate jay in his own power; and the young man retired to rest resolved :o begin a life of sober and careful industry.

But the hopes awakened within him by his conversa- tion with his uncle were too splendid to allow of his sleeping. He passéd the night ina sort of fever, calcu- lating the means of nen quickly as pussible the desired sun; settling how he Would employ his future riches; and passing imreview, one after another, as realities, all the chimeras which heretofore had only gated like dim visions before his imagination. When Susan came down next morning, he had already gone of to his work. Vincent, observing her surprise, nodd ais head and smiled, but said nothing.. He had recom- svended secrecy to the young workman, and resolved to

maintain it himself. Moreover, he wished to see whether

Charles would persevere in his good resolutions.

The first months of trial were full of difficulty to the young workman. ‘He had contracted habits which it ‘eqnired ne small resolution-to- break throngh. Inces-

ae rect: sermedk:

ingraeortable to him, Eevwas now

edj* Well now, speak, my little one,’

you, Susan °’ e” Then, after a moment’s thought, he continuec. ‘Why, yes—certainly—if possible,’ she replied, smil-|+[ hoped to have seen you both wealthy before I diec ; |ing, and slightly colouring. but perhaps it is best as itis. Don’t let us forget, how - | You can have your wish then,’ said Charles warmly. jever, your savings, Charles—Peter Dufour’s letter canno. \* You have only to say one word.’ rob us of the two thousand ‘franes; and,’ added fre, : What word, my cousin ?’ said Susan with some emo-|smiling, ‘I have some savings of my own, thanks. to the ~ ‘tion. {management of this good girl: we will see what can i « ‘That you will accept me for your husband, replied|done with it all.’ ‘So saying, he rested: his head on be: the young man: adding with respectful tenderness, as|elbow, and seemed for a while lost in meditation. Ax ihe saw the surprise and confusion which this abrupt)last he raised his head, and cried out joyously, * I have ravowal of his intentions had produced in his cousin,)it—P have it? ‘Oh do not let that annoy you, Susan; it has long been} ‘What have vou, good uncle? exclaimed the youu;, my most earnest desire to ask you this question. I only | people simultaneously. waited on accouut of a certain reason with which my} ‘Patience, patience, replied the veteran with akpow. uncle is acquainted, but you see how it has escaped mejing smile; you shall know it all ingood time, W2't against my will; and now only be as frank as [ have! you calla hackney-coach: forme Charies? I have seme been. Tell me whether I may hope that you can love|business out, and it is-still early inthe day. Swsa., me; our good uncle is there, so that you need have nojchild, [ shall want you toceme with me. fears that you are doing wrong.’ His desire was obeyed; and as he drove througa tiv. ‘The young man’s voice faltered ; he took his cousin’s| streets, he acquainted her that his heart was set upon hand, which he!pressed within his. own, and a tear|establishing them both in-the business. which had been trembled in his eye. Susan was silent, for her heart |just relinquished by Charles's, former master. ‘ Anc. was.too full to speak ; and the old soldier looked at them|added he, ‘ Mr. Lebrun is an honest man, and will lenc both with a smile of mingled playfulness and feeling./mea helping hand in the businese. Whet say you t: At length putting his arm around the young girl, and! my plan, child ” drawing her gently towards Charles, he said gaily,} ‘Oh it would only make me.too happy, cear ancic she gratefully replied. They called: on Mr. Lebrun, and were so-successi. in their negotiations, that on being again seated.in the coach, the old man krocked his stick with vebemene« on the floor, exclaiming, ‘By the ashes of the Listic Corporal he shali.have it? Susan kissed his band wre, joyful affection ‘Only. let.me see yeu setiled in-your. own, menage, and: Ighail.die happy, aid. the: Oud Inet, with-some emotion, ‘ Bat remember, Urasies smn,

‘Susan !’ exclaimed her cousin, still holding her hand, ‘one word, only one word—will you be my wife?

She hid her head upon his shoulder, and a halfarticu- lated * Yes’ escaped her lips.

‘Eh, well now, I declare,’ cried Vincent, clapping his hand on bis knee, ‘there-was a great deal of difficulty ‘about saying thet much New you must bothigive me ia kiss, said he,:kindly taking their bands. ‘Swill leave: