fairly put the grammer into his pocket, want of impudence-to his little back and betook himself-grumbling at his parlour again. THE MISTAKE. The good and modest Le Blond soon discovered some gleams of comfort in his distress. The French grammar he laid safely under lock and key, as a pledge of its bringing him to another interview with the owner. We cannot maintain that he enjoyed his supper on that night, but there are occasions when people can live very well upon air; and indeed, build stately castles on the same unsubstantial foundation. For instance, Le Blond was delighted beyond measure that the beautiful Jacqueline was of no higher rank than a milliner,-it fitted so admirably to his own trade in laces and silks. His plans were innumerable, and one of the most fixed of them was, to make the captivating Mademoiselle Buonvicini, with all convenient expedition, into Mademe Le Blond. The only question was, how such an angel was to be won? These plans, and even this last one, were admirably well laid with but one error in them, and that was, that Jacqueline resided indeed in the palace, but, alas! alas! not on the ground floor. She was no connection of the sisters Buonvicini, but was the only daughter of the French general De Fano, who had received some wounds at the seige of Namur, and had remained to have them cured. The good laceman who had entirely accommodated himself to his situation, and in consequence of his mother's advice, entirely forgotten the former rank of his father-would never have ventured on such an undertaking as to lay siege to the heart of the daughter of one of the Grand Monarque's most famous generals. Poor Julius was no politician, and had never even heard of General De Fano's name. Jacqueline, on the other hand-for since we have told the secrets of one of the parties, we may as well be equally communicative about the other-Jacqueline had left the jasmine bower, in scarcely an inferior state of bewilderment-she could not drive Le Blond out of her memory, and in girls of eighteen the seat of the memory is the heart. Now the image of a Le Blond in the heart is not unattended with danger to girls even a year or two older than Jacqueline. She was anxious to know who he was; but as to making any inquiry that might lead to the supposition that she took any interest in the matter, such a thing never entered her head. She tried, therefore, to attain the information in a roundabout sort of a way, and discovered that the great house to which the jasmine bower belonged, was inhabited by my Lord the Presi dent. How then was it possible to doubt that Le Blond was one of his sons? She had soon perceived the exchange that had happened of their grammars; by a paper mark at the place, she saw that his lesson had stopt short at the conjugation of Io amo; a verb which she was quite able to translate into the French J'aime. But somehow, on this occasion, the translation was accompanied with some odd sorts of feelings, for which she could not exactly account; and more than once she went into the apartment of her dressing-maid, whose window commanded a view of the jasmine bower. Every morning as soon as the sun rose, both the young people kept constantly looking towards the arbour; watched for the other's appearance, only that they might restore the grammars; but as neither of them liked to be the first to go, three days were wasted in useless expectation. Jacqueline was very restless, and Le Blond nearly died of anxiety. one THE LESSONS. At last, on the fourth morning, just Blond determined to visit the jasmine as the sun was rising, the bashful Le bower. And as he went to the win dow, he saw a figure in white wander- "The morning hour It was wonderful what a charming schoolroom they made of the jasmine arbour. The commencement was made that very hour. They sat down beside each other on the bench, and took the grammar in hand with the most studious intentions in the world. Perhaps indeed they might have made more progress in the language, if they had not sat quite so close. For when by any accident, Le Blond was touched by Jacqueline's arm; or, if in the morning breeze, one of her curls was waved against his cheek, a sort of shudder passed through him; he forgot the art of speaking either in his own language or any other; and appeared, poor fellow, to be labouring under a difficulty of breathing; or, when Jac queline's hand, in pointing out the place, came in contact with that of her pupil, all of a sudden she lost the power of distinguishing a single syllable, though on other occasions having no cause to complain of blindness. But to be sure not much can be expected in a first lesson, so they looked forward to making greater progress in the second. And indeed the studious propensities of the young people were most exemplary. In spite of the earliness of the hour, neither of them was ever one instant behind the appointed time; yet it might be in consequence of this over zeal that their attention occasionally flagged, and Jacqueline herself occasionally laid her forefinger on the lower line, instead of the upper. On those occa. sions it was of course necessary for the attentive pupil to set her right; and on taking her hand in his for this purpose, it not unfrequently happened, that neither of them could recollect whether it was the upper line or the lower one they had been reading; and so sometimes for five minutes at a time, both of them sat without saying a syllable, in the aforesaid attitude, and gazing most strenuously on the book whose lines neither of them could perceive a word of. 66 In the third lesson therefore it was indispensable to go over again the two former ones; which owing to these unavoidable circumstances had almost slipt from their memories; and, by way of bringing things into regular order, it was resolved that Jacqueline should be the teacher one day in Italian, and he the next in French. Le Blond confessed that he had stuck at the verb "Io amo," and begged the teacher to hear him say off the book all of it that he knew. As she felt conscious that her own progress in the French was not a whit more advanced, she felt the less wonder at his ignorance. Matters were now arranged for a serious lesson. The books were closed; and in case of any recurrence of the strange sensations he had experienced when accidentally touched by Jacqueline's hand, Le Blond thought it Letter to take hold of it at once, and keep it close prisoner in his own. A tremor ran through the captive thus laid hold of, which luckily escaped the captor's observation, as at that moment he was labouring under a very similar fit of agitation himself. After a long silence, which however neither of them seemed to consider tedious, Le Blond commenced his lesson "Present time, 'lo amo." " It was fortunate he had to wait for the translation, for one other syllable he fonnd it impossible to utter. Jacqueline sank her eyes to the ground, and felt that her cheeks were It was some time before he gained strength enough to go on to the second person. queline unconsciously went on, and said in the same tone as her scholar-" Nous aimons," we love; but suddenly she corrected herself, and said the lesson was ill done. "But it is no sin to be slow in learning grammar," whispered Le Blond, and raised the hand to his lips. To such a truism as that it was impossible to "Tu ame." She sighed, and actually blushed reply-and yet she appeared uneasy; again, as she responded"Tu aimes," thou lovest. He continued-and involuntarily as it were, lifted her trembling hand to his heart. "Egli ama," he loves. "Il aime," she muttered in answer, and lifted her eyes shyly to his face. He still held her hand pressed to his bosom, and forgetting his Italian entirely, continued in his own language. "Nous aimons," we love. "No, no," exclaimed the teacher, "you must say it in Italian." He looked into her beautiful black eyes and repeated what he had said before. "Nous aimons," we love. But looking into such eyes is no great help to one's progress. So Jac. perhaps on account of the slow progress they made in parsing; but after a somewhat embarrassing pause, they simultaneously returned to their lesson, and whispered at the same moment, as if in concord "Nous aimons," we love. This was the whole extent of their progress that day; yet both fancied they had learned a great deal; for the hearts of those young and innocent beings had learned a language that was neither French nor Italian; but more intelligible than either, more musical than the Tuscan; more graceful than the French. Two hours passed in this lesson; and when at last they found they had to part, neither of them could be persuaded it had lasted twenty minutes. THE HELPER. From day to day their studiousness increased; and it may be remarked, as a proof of the correctness of certain new theories in the art of teaching, that they soon acquired a power of carrying on a conversation without having committed to memory a single rule of grammar. Le Blonde all this time was deeply in love with the mantua-maker from Milan-Jacqueline with the son of the President of the Sovereign Court. But at last when they discovered their mistake it made no difference, except that it infused into the cup where Love had brimmed before, a bitter drop of fear and disappointment. But this bitter drop seemed by some chemical transmutation, of which they poor souls were ignorant, upon misery, winter came on apace, and humble warehouse! He had rushed out to avoid the revelry, and fly from his own miserable thoughts. Near him sat a gentleman in a grey ridingcoat-a man of middle age, calm and silent. He looked at Le Blond, and pledged him in a glass of Pontac. "Have I not the honour of speaking to Monsieur Le Blond?" he inquired. Le Blond looked at him closely, and recognised him, by a deep scar upon his left cheek, to be a gentleman he had seen frequently gazing upon him for the last two days: once he had come into his shop and bought something; then he had beset him on the street; then at church; then kept constantly promenading in front of his door; and now had addressed him here. There was something repulsive in the stranger's appearance; a long haggard countenance, and eyes that glowed like flame. Le Blond answered his inquiry. "You don't seem in good spirits ?" continued the stranger. 64 Perhaps so, sir," replied Le Blond; "one isn't merry at all hours.' 66 Drink!" said the stranger. "That has no effect," answered the other, despondingly. "Indeed! I am distressed to hear it. Is there any thing I can do to serve you?" "I can't say." "Try me," rejoined the stranger; "you interest me deeply, young man, "And twelve years last month," calmly repeated the stranger. "I perceive you are a little surprised you think, perhaps, I am quizzing you; but when you know me a little better you will think far otherwise. But think just what you like; and never trust to any man's words, but to his actions." Le Blond thought it somewhat extraordinary, but resolved to let the old gentleman go on with his hoax, being determined not to be taken in. The servants announced supper, and when Abubeker and Le Blond had taken their seats at the splendid table, which was covered with the richest wines and dishes, and were left again alone, "Now, my good fellow," said the Chaldean, gaily, "throw aside all troublesome thoughts for a little ;fill up a good bumper, and tell me all your distresses in the same open familiar way I have spoken to you." Le Blond took the advice as regarded the bumper, and towards the end of the feast was lively and amused. The Chaldean exerted himself for his entertainment, but, in spite of all his efforts, he could not penetrate the "secret sorrow" of his guest. Le Blond was very incredulous, and couldn't bring himself to swallow all the wonderful narratives given by Abubeker of his adventures by sea and land. "Yes, yes, my good friend," he said at last, offended at the old fellow's exaggerations, "you tell your marvels very well, but do you fancy that any sensible man would believe a word of them?" "It makes no difference to me," replied the other, "whether you be lieve me or not; the loss is yours. But you may easily convince yourself that my studies have been pretty deep. Did you ever hear of necromancy?" "To be sure, but never believed in it. It is a science that depends entirely on cheating and sleight of hand." "I make no turns, as you call it, of my art, but this I can tell you, young man, the lines of your face inform me you will be rich and fortunate. Tell me your exact position-you will find my assistance no affair of legerdemain. For example, are you in any mercantile difficulty? Do you need money?" Le Blond laughed, and said, to try him, "Perhaps I am; what then?" "Ah! why did you keep this from me so long? You should have told me so at first. You are decreed to lift a treasure that lies hidden under the ruins of Valerien des Anges." "A treasure?" Le Blond was somewhat startled by the dry manner of the Chaldean, but still believed he was amusing himself with trying to cram him. "Very well, Master Abubeker," he said, "I will put you to the test. Tomorrow morning I have a bill of exchange to answer for five thousand livres; if this matter is so certain, as you say, you will perhaps advance me that sum, and I will faithfully repay it when we dig up the treasure." Le Blond, as he said this, fixed his eyes upon the Chaldean to enjoy his confusion; but that individual never altered a muscle of his features, and only said quietly, "You shall have it, my friend." He then turned the conversation into its former channel about his own wonderful adventures. About midnight Le Blond rose to depart; but out of delicacy to the feelings of the impostor, he made no mention of the five thousand livres he had promised. Moreover, his story of the bill of exchange was an invention of the moment, to put an end to the old man's rigmarole stories about his achievements. But Abubeker, retiring for a few minutes to another room, brought with him four sacks of money, and laid them on the table. He then ordered an attendant to accompany |