182 SEARCH FOR THE FRENCH GENTLEMAN. to assist, but her sweet merry face, happy voice, and playful gayety, made her a most charming companion to their kind friend; and as for her young protector, John, he doted upon her more and more every day, while she, on her part, was so fondly attached to him, that she would never upon any account be prevailed upon to quit him. In all his walks, she accompanied him; during his work she would constantly sit by him, and either sing him some songs, of which she seemed to know an immense number, or merely smile, pat his face, chatter French to him, dance about, and, in short, use every means in her power to amuse and please him; or if he were sent on any message, she was sure to be trotting beside him, helping him to carry the basket or parcel, and trying, by all kinds of little winning ways, to make the way seem short and pleasant. In the mean time, John Barton never for a moment lost sight of the main object which had induced him to come to Paris, so far from his own dear mother, and his own home in the little cottage under the cliffs. Whenever he was out, in all his long ramblings through the large city, he never failed to look at all the faces he met, in the hope of seeing one like that which he had often heard his mother describe as belonging to the French gentleman, who had been so much benefited by his father. Every name that he saw written up, he took pains to spell out as well as he could, for he thought he had heard his mother mention it, though he could not recollect the exact sound, and he thought that, if he were to see it, it might be recalled to his mind; these were very slender chances, and the poor little boy began at last almost to despair of ever succeeding, when an event occurred which proved that the A STARTLING ACCIDENT. 183 good and kind God never deserts those who are really persevering, cheerful, and hearty in their efforts to help themselves. One fine morning John was sent with a message from the fruit-woman to one of her customers who lived in a distant part of the city, and as he was returning through the Rue de he stopped for an instant to look at a handsome cabriolet which stood opposite the door of a fine large house. Just at that moment a piercing scream from Julie made him turn his head abruptly round, and to his horror he beheld her stretched upon the pavement apparently dead! whilst a gentleman was bending over her, and raising her from the ground. "Mon Dieu! j'ai peur que j'ai tué cette pauvre petite!"* exclaimed the gentleman. John ran towards his darling little friend, and lifting her head gently in his arms, beheld her face perfectly pale and motionless. He burst into tears at this dreadful sight, and broke forth into reproaches against the gentleman, (who in passing quickly to his cabriolet, had knocked the little girl down,) forgetting that he was speaking English, and would therefore most probably not be understood. However, the gentleman mildly replied in the same language, though with a foreign accent: "My little friend, I am exceedingly sorry to have hurt your sister; but I cannot imagine how it is she fell, for I scarcely seemed to touch her: I think it must have been something which frightened her, for the poor little thing is in a swoon. Baptiste," added "My God! I fear I have killed this poor little thing!" your arms, and lay her on the sofa in the parlor." 184 DISCOVERY OF JULIE'S FATHER. he, calling to a servant who stood by, "prenez cette petite bien doucement dans vos bras, et placez la sur la chaiselongue dans le salon." The servant obeyed: and John, seeing they were carrying away his dear little Julie, loudly protested against it. "My dear little friend," said the gentleman, leading John into the house, " be patient; we are only going to try to recover your sister from her fainting fit." John followed the gentleman into a superbly furnished apartment, where he saw his beloved little friend placed carefully on a soft sofa, where she continued to lie for some time, perfectly still and pale. As John hung over her, sobbing, and endeavoring as well as he could to assist in the efforts made by the gentleman and his servants to restore her, he at last beheld her color come a little into her cheeks, and he had the pleasure of feeling her breath come upon his face, as she sighed and turned a little round. "Où est mon cher papa ?"* said she, in a faint voice. "J'ai cru l'avoir vu. Est ce un songe ?"+ "Grand Dieu! c'est mon enfant ! c'est ma petite Julie! c'est ma chere fille !" exclaimed the gentleman; and rushing to the sofa, he caught the little girl in his arms, and covered her with kisses, while she, in her turn, flung her arms round his neck, and stifled him with weeping and joyful caresses. John in astonishment beheld this scene, and wondered what could be its meaning, when the gentleman, after indulging in a long embrace of his dear little "Where is my dear papa ?"" "I thought I had seen him. Is it a dream?" "Great God! it is my child! it is my little Julia! it is my dear daughter!" girl, at last turned to where he was standing, and said: “And how came you, my little Englishman, to be with my dear child?" "Is Julie your daughter, sir?" asked John, in amazement. Yes, my long-lost child, for whom I have grieved these last two years, and whom I feared I never should see again; but come, tell me how you came to be with her; come, tell me the whole story." John recollected, at this moment, that his kind friend the fruit-woman would be uneasy at his long stay, so he told the gentleman that he believed he ought to return to her to relieve her anxiety; but the gentleman, (though pleased with this instance of his thoughtfulness for an absent friend) would not hear of his leaving him, and therefore he dispatched a footman to bid the fruit-woman not to feel anxious for the two children, as they were perfectly safe. By this time the poor little Julie had quite recovered from the effects of her swoon, (which was only occasioned by the sudden shock of surprise and joy in seeing her dear papa after so long a separation,) and she could now sit up on the sofa and talk, with her usual sprightliness. With her eyes and lips glistening with mingled new-fallen tears and beaming smiles, and her cheek resting on her kind father's bosom, she chatted away to him with such a happy tone of voice as made her father stop every now and then to kiss her for joy, and gave John a sensation of such proud gladness as he had never in his life felt before. "And now, my fine brave little fellow," said the gentleman, turning to John after his daughter had stopped speaking, "it is but fair you, who have been so kind a protector to my poor little wandering child, should be told who she is, and indeed her whole story, which she has just been 186 HOW SHE WAS CARRIED OFF. relating to me, though I see you did not understand her; and you may be sure that, in the course of her tale, she did not forget to mention your kindness to her, my little friend; at any rate, her father never will forget it." So saying, the gentleman shook John Barton very heartily by the hand, and after doing so two or three times, he continued: "Having lost my dear wife when my little Julie was very young, I was compelled to trust the child very much to the care of servants; and one afternoon, when she was about five years old, the maid who had the charge of her returned home with the dreadful news, that, in the course of their walk, she had suddenly missed Mademoiselle Julie, and that she had searched everywhere in Paris for her, but in vain. The agony I then suffered," said the gentleman, looking affectionately at his little girl, "can only be equalled by the delight I now feel in again beholding my child, whom I have so long mourned as lost to me forever. Her loss was so sudden and strange, as to seem almost like a dream; no trace whatever could be discovered of the cause of her removal, and after the strictest inquiry and search were made throughout Paris, I was compelled to give up my efforts for her recovery, as perfectly hopeless. The cause of her extraordinary disappearance is explained by the account Julie has just given me. She says, that while she was walking with the servant, in the gardens of the Tuilleries,* she saw a very beautiful butterfly, which she begged the maid to try and catch for her, but as this latter was busily engaged in talking with some acquaintance, and did not attend to her re • These are public gardens, something like our Kensington gardens. |