“My dear Percival,” said old Mr Vanderwelt, after I had concluded my narrative, “you have been pursuing a shadow, although the pursuit has called forth all your energies, and led to your advancement. You have the substance. You have wealth more than sufficient, for you know how rich I am. You have reputation, which is better than wealth, and you have now, I trust, a fair prospect of domestic happiness; for Minnie will be as good a wife as she has been a daughter. What, then, do you desire? A name. And what is that? Nothing. If you do not like your present name, from its association with your putative father of low origin, change it to mine. You will receive the fortune of an heiress, which will fully warrant your so doing. At all events, let not your pride stand in the way of your happiness. We cannot expect everything in this world. You have much to be thankful to Heaven for, and you must not repine because you cannot obtain all.”

  “I have so ardently desired it all my life; it has been the sole object of my ambition,” replied I, “and I cannot but severely feel the disappointment.”

  “Granted; but you must bear the disappointment, or rather you must forget it; regret for what cannot be obtained is not only unavailing, but, I may say, it is sinful. You have much to thank God for.”

  “I have indeed, sir,” replied I, as I kissed his daughter; “and I will not repine. I will take your name when you give me Minnie, and I will think no more about that of Delmar.”

  After this conversation, the subject was not renewed. I felt too happy with Minnie’s love to care much about anything else; my ambition melted away before it, and I looked forward to the time when I might embrace her as my own.

  My wound healed rapidly; I had been a month at Hamburg, and was able to limp about a little, when one day Cross came in with a packet of letters from England.

  There was one from the Admiralty, acknowledging the receipt of my two letters, one announcing the loss of the Circe, and the other my subsequent adventures, desiring me to come home as soon as my wound would permit me, to have the cause of the loss of the Circe investigated by a court-martial; that of course: one from my mother, thanking Heaven that I had escaped so many dangers with only a bullet in my leg, and stating her intention of going up to town to see me as soon as she heard of my arrival; the third was a voluminous epistle from Mr Warden, which I shall give to the reader in his own words.

  “My dear Captain Keene: —

  “I received your two letters, the first, acquainting me with your miraculous preservation after the loss of your frigate, and the other with your subsequent adventures on terra firma. You appear to me to have a charmed life! and as there is now every prospect of a speedy termination to this long and devastating war, I hope you will live many days. I did not enter into many particulars as to Lord de Versely’s death, as it was so sudden; the property left you is not perhaps of so much value in itself, as it is as a mark of his regard and esteem. Nevertheless, if ever you sit down quietly and take a wife, you will find that it will save you a few thousands in furnishing and decorating; the plate, pictures, and objects de vertu, as they are termed, are really valuable, and I know that you will not part with them, bequeathed as they have been by your friend and patron.

  “I must now refer to particulars of more consequence. You know that, as a legal adviser, my lips are supposed to be sealed, and they would have remained so now, had it not been that circumstances have occurred which warrant my disclosure; indeed, I may say that I have permission to speak plainly, as you have to repel charges against you which, if not disproved, may seriously affect your future interests. Know then, that when you were last at Madeline Hall, I was sent for to draw up the will of the Honourable Miss Delmar, and I then discovered that the will which had been made in favour of Lord de Versely, to whom Miss Delmar had left everything, was by his express desire to be altered in your favour; and at the same time the secret of your birth was confided to me. You will see, therefore, that Lord de Versely did not neglect your interests. The de Versely property he could not leave you, but he did what he could in your favour. This will was signed, sealed, and attested, and is now in my possession; and as the old lady is very shakey, and something approaching to imbecile, I considered that in a short time I should have to congratulate you upon your succession to this fine property, which is a clear 8,000 pounds per annum.

  “You must also know, that Colonel Delmar, whom you also met here, and who accompanied you to Portsmouth, has always hoped that he would be the heir of the old lady; and, indeed, had you not stepped in, I have no doubt but eventually such would have been the case. It appears that he has, by some means, discovered that you have ousted him, and since you sailed he has returned to Madeline Hall, and has so unsettled the old lady, by reporting that you are an impostor, and no relation by blood, that she has given me instructions to make a new will in his favour. By what means he has prevailed upon her I cannot tell: the chief support of his assertion rests upon some letters, which he has either surreptitiously obtained or forged, written by your mother and addressed to you. Now that your mother has been supposed to be dead many years I knew well for Lord de Versely told me so. The old lady has shown me these letters, which certainly appear authentic; and she says, that if you have deceived her and Lord de Versely as to your mother’s death, you have deceived them in everything else, and that she does not now believe that you are the son of her nephew. As I hinted before, the old lady is almost in her dotage, and cannot well be reasoned with, for she is very positive. I argued as long as I could with her, but in vain. At last she consented to stop proceedings until I heard from you, saying, ‘If I can have any proof under my nephew’s own hand that Percival is his son, I will be content; but without that I sign the new will.’

  “Such is the state of affairs, that you have little chance if such a document cannot be produced, I feel certain; at all events, I have gained delay which we lawyers always aim at. I only wish the old lady would take a sudden departure, and leave the question as unsettled as it is. Had Lord de Versely not been so suddenly called away, this would never have happened; as it is, we must make the best fight we can. At present the colonel has it all his own way. Pray write immediately, and explain as much as you can of this strange affair and let me know what steps you think it advisable to be taken. — Yours very truly,

  “F. Warden.”

  Chapter Forty Six.

  The receipt of this letter was extremely mortifying to me. I could not help feeling that if I lost the fine property which had been intended for me, I lost it chiefly by the deceit practised relative to my mother’s supposed death, and that if I did lose the estate in consequence, it was a proper punishment. At the same time, I felt not a little indignant at the conduct of Colonel Delmar. I now understood why it was that he was talking with Mr Warden’s clerk when I passed by them; and I also felt certain that he must have taken advantage of my situation at Portsmouth, and have opened my desk and stolen the letters from my mother. For this I resolved to call him to account, under any circumstances (that is, whether he or I became the heir to the old lady), as soon as I could fall in with him. Although I was far from despising the property which I was now likely to lose, yet I was more actuated in my wish to regain it by my enmity towards him, and I immediately resolved upon what I would do.

  As I was still unfit to travel, and, moreover, was resolved not to leave Hamburg without Minnie as my wife, I sent for Cross, and telling him in few words, what had taken place, asked him if he would immediately start for England, which he gladly consented to do. “The old lady requires, it seems, proof from Lord de Versely’s own hand that I am his son; fortunately, that is in my power to give; so do you take this, and as soon as you arrive in England make all haste to Mr Warden’s and put it into his own hands.” I then took off the seal-skin pouch containing Lord de Versely’s letter to my mother, and confided it to his care. At the same time I wrote a long letter to Mr Warden explaining as far as I could the means which the colonel had used to get possession of the letters, and the reason which induced me to make his lordship believe that my mother was dead. I did not attempt to extenuate my conduct; on the contrary, I severely blamed myself for my deception, and acknowledged that if I lost the estate it was nothing more than I deserved.

  Cross made all haste, and sailed the next morning. Having put this affair in train, I had nothing to do but to give all my thoughts to Minnie. In another fortnight I was completely recovered, and then I mentioned to Mr Vanderwelt my anxiety that the marriage should take place. No difficulties were raised; and it was settled that on that day week I should lead my Minnie to the altar. I thought that the week would never expire; but, like all other weeks, it died a natural death at last, and we were united. The fête was over, the company had all left us, and we were again alone, and I held my dearest Minnie in my arms, when Mr Vanderwelt brought me in a letter from England. It was from Mr Warden, and I hastily opened it. Minnie shared my impatience, and read over my shoulder. The contents were as follows: —

  “My dear Captain Keene,

  “Most fortunate it was for you that you have preserved that letter; but I must not anticipate. On receiving it from Cross I immediately went with it to the old lady, and presented it to her. I did more, — I read over your letter in which you stated your reasons for making Lord de Versely believe that your mother was dead. The old lady, who is now very far gone in her intellect, could hardly understand me. However, her nephew’s handwriting roused her up a little, and she said, ‘Well, well — I see — I must think about it. I won’t decide. I must hear what the colonel says.’ Now, this is what I did not wish her to do; but she was positive, and I was obliged to leave her. The colonel was sent for; but I do not know what the result was, or rather might have been, as fortune stood your friend in a most unexpected way.

  “As I went out, I perceived two gentlemen arrive in a post-chaise. One of them appeared very ill and feeble, hardly able to walk up the steps. They inquired for Colonel Delmar, and were shown into a sitting-room, until he came out of Mrs Delmar’s apartment. I saw him come out; and there was so much satisfaction in his countenance, that I felt sure that he had gained over the old lady. And I went home, resolving that I would burn the new will, which had not been signed, if it were only to gain the delay of having to make it over again. But the next morning an express arrived for me to go immediately to the Hall. I did so, but I did not take the new will with me, as I felt certain that if I had so done, it would have been signed that day. But I was mistaken: I had been sent for on account of the death of Colonel Delmar, who had that morning fallen in a duel with Major Stapleton, the officer who fought with you. It appears that Captain Green had informed the major of the language used by the colonel when Major S was supposed to be dead; and that the major, who has been very ill ever since, only waited till he was able to stand to demand satisfaction of the colonel. It was the major with his friend whom I met as I left the Hall the day before. They fought at daylight, and both fell. The major, however, lived long enough to acknowledge that the duel with you had been an arranged thing between him and the colonel, that you might be put out of the way, after the information the colonel had received from my clerk, and that the colonel was to have rewarded him handsomely if he had sent you into the other world. I suspect, after this, that the fowling-piece going off in the cover was not quite so accidental as was supposed. However, the colonel is out of your way now, and the old lady has received such a shock, that there is no fear of her altering the will; indeed, if she attempted it, I doubt if it would be valid, as she is now quite gone in her intellect. I have, therefore, destroyed the one not signed; and have no doubt, but that in a very few weeks I may have to congratulate you upon your succession to this property. I think that the sooner you can come home the better, and I advise you to take up your quarters at Madeline Hall, for possession is nine points of the law, and you can keep off all trespassers. — Yours most truly,

  “F. Warden.”

  “Well, Minnie dearest, I may congratulate you, I believe, as the lady of Madeline Hall,” said I, folding up the letter.

  “Yes, Percival, but there is a postscript overleaf, which you have not read.”

  I turned back to the letter.

  “PS. I quite forgot to tell you that there is a condition attached to your taking possession of the property, which, as it was at the particular request of Lord de Versely, I presume you will not object to, which is — that you assume the arms and name of Delmar.”

  THE END

  TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES OF MONSIEUR VIOLET IN CALIFORNIA, SONORA AND WESTERN TEXAS

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One.

  Chapter Two.

  Chapter Three.

  Chapter Four.

  Chapter Five.

  Chapter Six.

  Chapter Seven.

  Chapter Eight.

  Chapter Nine.

  Chapter Ten.

  Chapter Eleven.

  Chapter Twelve.

  Chapter Thirteen.

  Chapter Fourteen.

  Chapter Fifteen.

  Chapter Sixteen.

  Chapter Seventeen.

  Chapter Eighteen.

  Chapter Nineteen.

  Chapter Twenty.

  Chapter Twenty One.

  Chapter Twenty Two.

  Chapter Twenty Three.

  Chapter Twenty Four.

  Chapter Twenty Five.

  Chapter Twenty Six.

  Chapter Twenty Seven.

  Chapter Twenty Eight.

  Chapter Twenty Nine.

  Chapter Thirty.

  Chapter Thirty One.

  Chapter Thirty Two.

  Chapter Thirty Three.

  Chapter Thirty Four.

  Chapter Thirty Five.

  Chapter Thirty Six.

  Chapter Thirty Seven.

  Chapter Thirty Eight.

  Chapter Thirty Nine.

  Chapter Forty.

  Chapter Forty One.

  Chapter Forty Two.

  Chapter Forty Three.

  Chapter Forty Four.

  Chapter One.

  The Revolution of 1830, which deprived Charles the Tenth of the throne of France, like all other great and sudden changes, proved the ruin of many individuals, more especially of many ancient families who were attached to the Court, and who would not desert the exiled monarch in his adversity. Among the few who were permitted to share his fortunes was my father, a noble gentleman of Burgundy, who at a former period and during a former exile, had proved his unchangeable faith and attachment to the legitimate owners of the crown of France.

  The ancient royal residence of Holyrood having been offered, as a retreat, to his unhappy master, my father bade an eternal adieu to his country and with me, his only son, then but nine years of age, followed in the suite of the monarch, and established himself in Edinburgh.

  Our residence in Scotland was not long. Charles the Tenth decided upon taking up his abode at Prague. My father went before him to make the necessary arrangements; and as soon as his master was established there, he sought by travel to forget his griefs. Young as I was, I was his companion. Italy, Sicily, Greece, Turkey, Egypt, and the Holy Land were all visited in the course of three years, after which time we returned to Italy; and being then twelve years old, I was placed for my education in the Propaganda at Rome.

  For an exile who is ardently attached to his country there is no repose. Forbidden to return to his beloved France, there was no retreat which could make my father forget his griefs, and he continued as restless and as unhappy as ever.

  Shortly after that I had been placed in the Propaganda, my father fell in with an old friend, a friend of his youth, whom he had not met with for years, once as gay and as happy as he had been, now equally suffering and equally restless. This friend was the Italian Prince Seravalle, who also had drank deep of the cup of bitterness. In his youth, feeling deeply the decadence, both moral and physical, of his country, he had attempted to strike a blow to restore it to its former splendour; he headed a conspiracy, expended a large portion of his wealth in pursuit of his object, was betrayed by his associates, and for many years was imprisoned by the authorities in the Castle of San Angelo.

  How long his confinement lasted I know not, but it must have been a long while, as in after-times, when he would occasionally revert to his former life, all the incidents he related were for years “when he was in his dungeon, or in the court-yard prison of the Capitol,” where many of his ancestors had dictated laws to nations.

  At last the Prince was restored to freedom, but captivity had made no alteration in his feelings or sentiments. His love for his country, and his desire for its regeneration, were as strong as ever, and he very soon placed himself at the head of the Carbonari, a sect which, years afterwards, was rendered illustrious by the constancy and sufferings of a Maroncelli, a Silvio Pellico, and many others.

  The Prince was again detected and arrested, but he was not thrown into prison. The government had been much weakened and the well-known opinions and liberality of the Prince had rendered him so popular with the Trasteverini, or northern inhabitants of the Tiber, that policy forbade either his captivity or destruction. He was sentenced to be banished for (I think) ten years.

  During his long banishment, the Prince Seravalle wandered over various portions of the globe, and at last found himself in Mexico. After a residence at Vera Cruz, he travelled into the interior, to examine the remains of the ancient cities of the Western World; and impelled by his thirst for knowledge and love of adventure, he at last arrived on the western coast of America, and passing through California, fell in with the Shoshones, or Snake Indians, occupying a large territory extending from the Pacific to nearly the feet of the Rocky Mountains. Pleased with the manners and customs and native nobility of this tribe of Indians, the Prince remained with them for a considerable time, and eventually decided that he would return once more to his country, now that his term of banishment had expired; not to resettle in an ungrateful land, but to collect his property and return to the Shoshones, to employ it for their benefit and advancement.