MARRYING- A GHOST.

Hawke's Bay Herald, Volume 11, Issue 861, 27 July 1867, Page 4

MARRYING- A GHOST.

(From " Temple Bar.") (Concluded from last Herald,) It was some little time before' Beaufort succeeded in arousing the coackman ; who, tired of waiting for Ms fare, had gone fast asleep. At length, however, he roused him up to a state of consciousness, and bidding him drive as quickly as possible to the hotel, threw himself back on the seat, and employed the time in building castles in the air. "He was Prefect; Annette and he had just been married, and——" when the cabriolet pulled up at the hotel door, and interrupted him in the very middle of his interesting reverie. , On alighting from the carriage, Beaufort's first question was to inquire about the funeral, which he learned had' taken place at the time appointed, and his second to ask whether General de Gr— — had arrived. Being answered in the affirmative, he therefore lost no time in repairing to his uncle's room. " Grlad to see you punctual, my dear boy; for we have no time to lose. A letter just received says you must go down to your post at once ; so we must start this very night. How long before you are ready, en ?" "In an hour," answered Beaufort, despondingly, on whom the announcement fell like a thunderbolt. However, there was no help for it. To offend his uncle by proposing to delay his departure, he felt was out.ofthequestion. But it was most vexatious. Well, he must write to Monsieur Heppe an explanatory letter when "he arrived at his destination, for there was no time to do it now. - In an hour's time they set off, as fast as four horses could carry them, and late the foflowing afternoon arrived at the town of—— To Beaufort's dismay and horror, however, when that same night he seated himself to indite the promised letter of explanation, lie could not remember Monsieur Heppe's address ; Tilliers had written it on a card which he, like a fool, had handed to the man who drove him there. What was he to do P Heppe was about the commonest name in Paris; there would " be sure to be half a dozen of that name in every street ; and, whether his Monsieur Heppe was a merchant, banker, or broker, he had not the remotest idea. It would never do, therefore/to write a letter of that delicate nature (for he fully intended 'proposing himself as a substitute for young Yilliers), and not know into whose hands it might fall. So, with a heavy heart he closed up his desk again, resolving to ask for a few days' leave, on the earliest opportunity, when he would immediately repair to the capital, where he confidently expected he should have no difficulty in finding his way to the house where the fair Annette lived. Meanwhile let us return to the Heppe family, who were anxiously awaiting the return of their visitor. It was past eight, and already the room was fully of company ; but he whom they had been invited to meet had not yet arrived. Nine o'clock struck, ten, eleven, and yet he had not come. It was no use waiting any longer, so bidding adieu to their host and hostess, and adding many regrets at their disappointment in not having been able to make the acquaintance of Monsieur Yilliers, they took their leave. " Well 1 this is very strange treatment, my dear," remarked old Heppe to his wife, as soon as they were alone. " So unaccountable too/ chimed in the lady; "he seemed so well bred, and so gentlemanly, and so very attentive to our dear Annette, that I cannot understand it at all." " Nor I either ; but to-morrow, the first thing, I will go to his hotel and learn all about it, before he again honours us with a visit," said Monsieur Heppe, *in a tone of indignation. Next morning, after swallowing an early breakfast, the old. gentleman set out on-Ms-errand, quite determined in Ms own mind, if the young man did not account for his absence the previous evening in a satisfactory manner, to inform him that he should decline the honour of his further acquaintance. " I say, husband, an idea has just occurred to me," said Madame Heppe, as he was leaving the house ; " you remember how he made us all laugh last night, when he told us he had been shot in a duel, and was going to be buried P. Now I should not wonder if he really had got into some quarrel, and that he was to fight a duel this very morning, and that he adopted that method of preparing us for the worst. Make haste to town then, my love ; you may be in time yet to stop it." .. Monsieur Heppe needed no other persuasions to hasten his steps, and in a surprisingly short time had arrived at the door of the Hotel de Ville, breathless, and ready to drop with the exertion he had undergone. •'ls Monsieur Yilliers here?" he inquired of a waiter, as soon as he could speak. " No, monsieur, he is here no longer," was the reply; "he only lay here one night." ' " Where has he gone to, thenP" " To Pere Lachaisse." " What do you mean, fellow P" " Why, that he was buried yesterday at ix o'clock,, monsieur." . "Buried !" shrieked Monsieur Heppe, in. iihe greatest consternation; "are you mad or drunk-^r do you take me for a fool, you stupid P • Buried ! impossible, I tell you 1" > ._# Nothing wore p ossible, monsieur," an»

swered the waiter, civilly ; " seeing that he was shot through the heart." " Pool I jpig I beast !" ejaculated Monsieur Heppe, in a great passion, • " I tellyou, monsieur, that the gentleman went but to fight a duel yesterday morning, and that he was brought home quite dead in a cabriolet, and was buried yesterday evening at six o'clock. But monsieur had better speak to the.landlord, as he seems to doubt me." But the landlord exactly confirmed the waiter's story ; and, seeing that Monsieur Heppe still appeared incredulous, invited him up into the room recently occupied by the young man. There, in a corner, lay his portmanteau, with Ms name in full on the top of it ; and on the table a fragment of a letter, which Monsieur Heppe immediately recognised as being in the handwriting of his old friend Villiers. There was no longer any room for doubt. The young man must be dead. And vet, had he not dined in his house on the afternoon of the very day on which it was said he had been killed P And old He,ppe became so puzzled, and perplexed, and nervous, that on his return home his wife scarcely recognised him, so long and grave had his usual cheerful-looking face become. " It must have been a real ghost, then, that we had to dinner," he ejaculated, crossing himself devoutly, after he had recounted to his wife all that he had been able to learn from the landlord ot the hotel. . "Gracious Lordl and perhaps he'll -come again ; let us go ana speaic to the priest about it," added Madame Heppe, now really frightened. Annette, meanwhile, had retired to her own room. Of course, she was very muoh shocked at what she had heard, but still she did not participate in the alarm evinced by her parents. Villiers had made such a deep impression on her young heart ; deeper, perhaps, because of the fears she had entertained that she should not like him. Little had she expected to find in her proposed suitor a young man possessed of. the most fascinating manners, evidently highly accomplished, and of a disposition particularly agreeable. And could he be dead P Had he then risen from the grave in order to keep his promise to her P She had heard of ghosts, but she had never believed in such things j at all events, if it had been a ghost, it must have been a sign that he did. not think her altogether unworthy of him. In due time a letter arrived from Monsieur Villiers, in which he deplored the untimely end of his son \ t and thus every shadow of a doubt was removed from the minds of the old folks, who, it -may be added, lived in constant dread, of having another visit paid them by a denizen of the spirit world. Gradually, however, they began to recover their, wonted spirits, and as no ghost appeared, soon left off talking about the matter. Indeed, on one or two occasions, old Heppe got quite jocular on the subject. " After all, you know," he said one evening to his wife, " we really ought to feel highly honoured. It is not every one who can boast of having entertained so distinguished a visitor ; and I must say, wife, ne seemed to do uncommon justice to your dinner. Generally, you know, ghosts come in the middle of the night, and vanish as suddenly as they appear ; but ours actually drove up in a carriage and pair. But there is still one thing that is a mystery ; you know he told us he had been appointed Under-Prefect, and. l see by to-day's paper that a Monsieur Beaufort has been named to fill the post to which he alluded." There was one person, however,, in the neighbourhood who felt no little joy at the turn things had taken. Monsieur Lamont, a wealthy tradesman, had some weeks previously, in a private interview with Monsieur Heppe, asked permission to be allowed to pay his addresses to his daughter. " It is impossible, was the answer \ " my daughter's hand is already promised. But believe me, my dear Lamont, had such not been the case, I would willingly have given my consent, for I entertain the highest opinion possible of you." Now that young Villiers was dead, Monsieur Lamont thought that there could not be the slightest objection to his again preferring his suit. Accordingly, about a couple of months after the above events had taken place, he paid old Heppe a visit, and reminded him of the words he had used on a former occasion. " Certainly ; and lam sure I should be very happy to have you for a son-in-law ; but Annette, I must tell you, is not the same girl she was. She is absent in manner, seems to brood over some hidden thought, and has quite lost her former | cheerfulness. I think, if the subject were proposed to her now, she would answer with a decided refusal. I would, then, advise you to wait ; and be sure, my dear friend, I will see to your interests." " Thanks, thanks ! But how long do you think I shall have to wait before you are able to give me an answer P" " Oh, not long, perhaps — say in two months' time. Between now and then I will broach the subject to Annette, and will let you know the result." And Monsieur Lamont went his way. Annette, as her father anticipated, did not seem at all pleased at the announcement. She felt that she could never love again as she had loved. No, she would never marry ; she would live with hex parents, and when they were no more, would retire into some religious house. " Well, my love," said her father, "we will speak no more about it now. Take a month or two to think of it, and if in that time you are still of the same opinion, you shall not bo importuned by Lamont's ad« dresses, or any one's else." " She'll come round in time," thought her father ; " she likes Lamont, I know ; and he is a worthy, good fellow, that he is." The time passed rapidly away. One evening Monsieur Heppe, who had • refrained from alluding to the subject any more, said to his daughter, as she bade him good-night : " To-morrow, my child, I shall ask you for your answer to the question I asked you two months ago. _ Good night, and whichever way you decide, be assured, you will always be my own darling Annette." " Thanks, dear father," whispered Annette, as she left the room. "What should she doP" she thought, when she was once more alone; "but he is, I believe, a very amiable, kind man, and my father seems to wish it. Oh, what shall I doP Oh, Villiers, dear Villiers, tell me !" and the poor girl cried herself to sleep. But next morning she awoke much refreshed, for she had had a pleasant dream that night. Villiers, she thought, had stood by her bedside, looking just the same as when she had seen him on that eventful day. "Be true to me, dear Annette," he had said. " Some day I will come and claim you." So cheerful and so like herself did she appear at breakfast next morning, that her father imagined that sho had at last got over her foolish scruples, and that she had decided on no longer refusing .an offer which in every way was so advantageous. " At twelve, my love, I shall expect you in the drawing-room," said her father, af-

; fectionately kissing her on the forehead as he left the room. But it is now time to return to our hero. During all this time poor Beaufort had ■ suffered severely. He could not ask for 1 leave of absence, when he had only just i entered on his duties. At length, when . three months had elapsed, he ventured to i apply for a few^ days' holiday, fully expecting a decided refusal. Contrary, however, to his expectations, and to his ' great joyra letter, couched in flattering ' terms, reached him from the Minister. . Not only did he pass a high encomium on . the manner in which he had discharged his arduous duties, but gave him permission, to remain absent from his post a . whole month. That very day found Beaufort on his . road to the metropolis, where he lost no . time in finding out the General, to whom he now, for the first time, confided the events recorded above, < " Well, you are a pretty sort of a fellow," said the General, when his nephew had finished, *'to go and frighten people in that way. You may depend upon it, Mademoiselle will not be over anxious to , renew her acquaintance with a ghost." " Oh, I don't thir& that she believed it for a moment ; it was really too absurd." "Well, what do you want me to do, you dog P you always did come to your old uncle to get you out of your scrapes. But what sort of a young lady is Mademoiselle Annette P Is she ladylike Pis she " " My dear uncle, she is a perfect angel ! I never saw such——" " There, there— that will do ! I don't doubt your word for an instant. But I have a good mind to go and judge for myself— eh P" " That is just what I was going to propose. You know, after the manner in which I treated them, it would be just as well if I had some one with me to explain all about it. But you know, I must find out where she lives." And Beaufort hastened away to the Hotel de Ville to make inquiries where the coachman, who had driven him to „ Monsieur Heppe's house, now wag. To his great disappointment he found that the coachman had gone away from the hotel about a month since ; and no one could tell him where he was likely to be found. In vain did Beaufort visit all the cabriolet stands in Paris ; but he met with no success. It was getting late now, and as he did not like to keep his uncle waiting for dinner, he set off to his hotel with a heavy heart. But he had not gone many steps when he espied a bright yellow cabriolet. Ah ! he remembered the one he had driven in was a bright yellow one ; but he had run after , so many bright yellow ones that day, that he thought it was to no purpose to give chase to this one. However, on coming nearer, he at once recognised the coachman. . * "My friend," he cried, running up to him and stopping the carriage, to the great disgust of an elderly gentleman inside, who had hired it, "do you remember driving me, about four months ago, to Monsieur Heppe's house P" " No, monsieur ; but to which Monsieur Heppe P there are so many of that name." L " That is just what I want to know myself. But you drove me, I am certain. And don't you remember, I was there a long time ; and when I came to find you, you had-. gone to Sleep ; and I gave you a present or five francs ?" "Ah ! monsieur, now I. recollect it all," answered the coachman, on whoso wind the five francs had left a lasting impression ; " to be sure I do." ' Beaufort could have hugged him with deligliirrbuttlie old gentleman Inside was beginning to set very cross, so he deemed it best not to be too demonstrative in the open street. " Here ! is another five-franc piece for you. 3STow come to-morrow to the Hotel -— —, at eleven, and drive me to Monsieur Heppe, and you shall have another iivefranc piece. And Beaufort hastened ! home to his uncle with a light heart. There was evidently something of imi portance going on at Monsieur Heppe's house next morning : for, by eleven o'clock , Monsieur Lainont arrived, dressed out in i the most approved style, while the old follcs, too, had paid more than usual at- , tention to their toilettes, and were awaiti ing the arrival of the above-named gentlei man in the very room into which the supi posed young Villiers had been ushered. " I tell you, my dear, lam sure Annette i has made up her mind to have him. Did you not see how cheerful she looked this i morning P" said old Monsieur Heppe to his wife, as Lamont's carriage drove up to . the door. "I hope so; he will be an excellent i match for her; but still I wish he had 1 been real flesh and blood too," replied i Madame, devoutly crossing herself, as she 1 always did when the visit of the deceased Villiers was alluded to. > After the usual salutations had been ex- . changed, Madame Heppe left the room to find her daughter, and soon returned, lead- \ ing her in. Annette had never looked so '. lovely as she did on this occasion, not even . on tnat evening^ when Beaufort was so deeply smitten with her. "My love," presently commenced her . father, " you know that you were this day to decide upon a most important matter. • Monsieur Lamont has asked for and ob- . tamed my and your mother's consent to ' pay his addresses to you, and it is now only necessary that you should tell us whether you will——' i But before Monsieur Heppe could finish > the sentence the door flew open, and in J rushed the old servant as pale as a sheet, • and trembling in evevy limb, as he cried out : "Oh, my God! he's here again— he's 1 here again !" " WLo P you stupid— who P are you gone 1 mad?" The ghost, master, the ghost ! and he's got another ghost with him. Let me hide myself somewhere ;" and the old man ran 1 out of the room, and down into the cellar, 1 whence he did not emerge till a late 'hour the same evening. " I must ask pardon," said General de ■ Q >, in a courteous tone, " for intruding • upon you unannounced, but your servant ■ ran away, as if he had been possessed, directly he opened the door. Allow me to ■ explain the object of my visit. My name is General de G , and my young friend here is my nephew; Monsieur Beaufort, • Under-Profect in the Department of " Old Heppe opened his eyes at these i words till he could open them no wider. " Why, it's — it's " he stammered. 1 " Yes !" replied the General, smiling ; " partly with, and partly against his will, ■ my nephew entered your house under an i assumed name, and was supposed by you . to be none other than young _ Villiers, who i was shot in a duel by Captain de S . > Circumstances occurred which rendered it impossible for him to write to you an cxi planation of his strange conduct; and . when he had reached his post, he could not remember where your address was. Yesterday, for the first time, he returned to Paris, and has .lost no time in paying you a visit in order to offer you his humble apologies for any annoyance and vexation he may have caused you. And now, Monsieur, I havetospeakto you on another matter. My nephew, it seems, became deeply onamouredof your daughter, whom to see

once, 1 ' added the G-eneral, bowing courteously to the young lady, " is to admire for ever ; and it is his wish to be allowed to continue an acquaintance which, begun by accident, so to speak, may, he fervently hopes, ripen to a closer connection between him and the young lady. In a word, ho wishes to obtain your sanction to be permitted to pay his addresses to your lovely daughter." " But it is impossible, General," replied Monsieur Heppe, who, if the truth were known, now sincerely regretted that he had ever encouraged his neighbour Lamont; " I have given my consent to this gentleman to try and gain Annette's affections." Beaufort's heart sunk within him at those words ; but on raising his eyes, he found those of Annette fixed on him with such an earnest, and significant look, that he fell assured that she loved him. " Dear father," she said, " I would like to say a word to Monsieur Lamont in private." And when they were alone, she told him that it had all along been her intention to reject the honour of his suit, even if the unexpected visit of General de G— — and his nephew had not taken place. Monsieur Lamont bore his refusal, it must be said, admirably ; and as he left the room, assured her that though he could not but regret, for his own and son's sake, the decision at which she had arrived, he should never cease to pray for her future happiness. In a whirl of mingled joy and eostasy Annette^ hastened down to her favourite arbour in the garden, where of late she had spent many and many a sad hour alone. She felt she: must be alone ; she must collect her thoughts before again meeting, face to face, the man whom she felt she loved so dearly. But whether it was that Beaufort had seen her go down the garden, or whether he was in possession of some mysterious charm that revealed to him where the fair girl was, I cannot say. At all events she had not been long in her secret bower before she felt herself clasped in the embrace of her lover, who found little difficulty in wringing from her lips a confession that made the warm blood course through her veins, and filled him, too, with indescribable delight. It need scarcely be added that Beaufort did not return to His duties alone. A week before his departure, their marriage was celebrated with becoming magnificence; and every one seemed happy and delighted at the turn events had taken, except the old servant, who could not yet feel sure whether his young mistress's husband was really a ghost or not !