The Three Brides, Love in a Cottage, and Other Tales

Francis A. (Francis Alexander) Durivage

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• Publié par: thiob
• Publié le: 08 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 54
• Langue: English

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Three Brides, Love in a Cottage, and Other Tales, by Francis A. Durivage This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: The Three Brides, Love in a Cottage, and Other Tales Author: Francis A. Durivage Release Date: February 3, 2006 [EBook #17669] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE THREE BRIDES, LOVE IN A *** Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, Sankar Viswanathan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net THE THREE BRIDES, LOVE IN A COTTAGE, AND OTHER TALES BY FRANCIS A. DURIVAGE. BOSTON: SANBORN, CARTER, BAZIN & CO., 25 & 29 CORNHILL. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by F.A. DURIVAGE, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. TO MY MOTHER, THE FIRST TO ENCOURAGE MY EFFORTS, AND THE MOST INDULGENT OF MY CRITICS, THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. PREFACE. [7] The volume here submitted to the public is composed of selections from my contributions to the columns of the American press. The stories and sketches were written, most of them, in the intervals of relaxation from more serious labor and the daily business of life; and they would be suffered to disappear in the Lethe that awaits old magazines and newspapers, had not their extensive circulation, and the partial judgment of friends,—for I must not omit the stereotyped plea of scribblers,—flattered me that their collection in a permanent form would not prove wholly unacceptable. Some of these articles were published anonymously, or under the signature of "The Old 'Un," and have enjoyed the honor of adoption by persons having no claim to their paternity; and it seems time to call home and assemble these vagabond children under [8] the paternal wing. The materials for the tales were gathered from various sources: some are purely imaginative, some authentic, not a few jotted down from oral narrative, or derived from the vague remembrance of some old play or adventure; but the form at least is my own, and that is about all that a professional story-teller, gleaning his matter at random, can generally lay claim to. Some of these sketches were originally published in the Boston "Olive Branch," and many in Mr. Gleason's popular papers, the "Flag of Our Union," and the "Pictorial Drawing-Room Companion." Others have appeared in the "New York Mirror," the "American Monthly Magazine," the New York "Spirit of the Times," the "Symbol," and other magazines and papers. Should their perusal serve to beguile some hours of weariness and illness, as their composition has done, I shall feel that my labor has not been altogether vain; while the moderate success of this venture will stimulate me to attempt something more worthy the attention of the public. FRANCIS A. DURIVAGE. TABLE OF CONTENTS. PAGE THE GOLDSMITH'S DAUGHTER. PHILETUS POTTS. THE GONDOLIER. THE SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS. THE THREE BRIDES. CALIFORNIA SPECULATION. THE FRENCH GUARDSMAN. PERSONAL SATISFACTION. THE CASTLE ON THE RHINE. LOVE IN A COTTAGE. THE CAREER OF AN ARTIST. SOUVENIRS OF A RETIRED OYSTERMAN IN ILL HEALTH. THE NEW YEAR'S STOCKINGS. THE OBLIGING YOUNG MAN. EULALIE LASALLE. THE OLD CITY PUMP. THE TWO PORTRAITS. UNCLE OBED. THE CASKET OF JEWELS. ACTING CHARADES. THE GREEN CHAMBER. 11 27 32 40 45 58 63 76 80 93 99 112 118 127 132 142 147 155 160 178 182 [9] THE GREEN CHAMBER. HE WASN'T A HORSE JOCKEY. FUNERAL SHADOWS. THE LATE ELIAS MUGGS. THE SOLDIER'S WIFE. A KISS ON DEMAND. THE RIFLE SHOT. THE WATER CURE. THE COSSACK. MARRIED FOR MONEY. THE EMIGRANT SHIP. THE LAST OF THE STAGE COACHES. THE SEXTON OF ST. HUBERT'S. JACK WITHERS. THE SILVER HAMMER. THE CHRIST CHURCH CHIMES. THE POLISH SLAVE. OBEYING ORDERS. THE DEACON'S HORSE. THE CONTRABANDISTA. THE STAGE-STRUCK GENTLEMAN. THE DIAMOND STAR. THE GAME OF CHANCE. THE SOLDIER'S SON. TAKING CHARGE OF A LADY. THE NEW YEAR'S BELLS. THE OLD YEAR AND THE NEW. 182 191 197 207 213 231 237 244 248 260 266 271 276 292 302 316 320 331 335 339 351 355 373 382 391 397 407 THE GOLDSMITH'S DAUGHTER. A LEGEND OF MADRID. Many, many years ago, in those "good old times" so much bepraised by antiquaries and the laudatores temporis acti,—the good old times, that is to say, of the holy office, of those magnificent autos when the smell of roasted heretics was as sweet a savor in the nostrils of the faithful, as that of Quakers done remarkably brown was to our godly Puritan ancestors,—there dwelt in the royal city of Madrid a wealthy goldsmith by the name of Antonio Perez, whose family —having lost his wife—consisted of a lovely daughter, named Magdalena, and a less beautiful but still charming niece, Juanita. The housekeeping and the care of the girls were committed to a starched old duenna, Donna Margarita, whose vinegar aspect and sharp tongue might well keep at a distance the boldest gallants of the court and camp. For the rest, some half dozen workmen [11] and servitors, and a couple of stout Asturian serving wenches made up the establishment of the wealthy artisan. As the chief care of the latter was to accumulate treasure, his family, while they were denied no comfort, were debarred from luxury, and, perhaps, fared the better from this very frugality of the master. Yet in the stable, which occupied a portion of the basement story of his residence,—the other half being devoted to the almacen, or store,—there were a couple of long-tailed Flemish mares, and a heavy, lumbering chariot; [12] and in the rear of the house a garden, enclosed on three sides with a stone wall, and comprising arbors, a fountain, and a choice variety of fruits and flowers. One evening, the goldsmith's daughter and her cousin sat in their apartment, on the second story, peeping out through the closed "jalousies," or blinds, into the twilight street, haply on the watch for some gallant cavalier, whose horsemanship and costume they might admire or criticize. Seeing nothing there, however, to attract their attention, they turned to each other. "Juanita," said the goldsmith's daughter, "I believe I have secured an admirer." "An admirer!" exclaimed the pretty cousin. "If your father and dame Margarita didn't keep us cooped here like a pair of pigeons, we should have, at least, twenty apiece. But what manner of man is this phœnix of yours? Is he tall? Has he black eyes, or blue? Is he courtier or soldier?" "He is tall," replied Magdalena, smiling; "but for his favor, or the color of his eyes, or quality, I cannot answer. His face and figure shrouded in a cloak, his sombrero pulled down over his eyes, he takes up his station against a pillar of the church whenever I go to San Ildefonso with my duenna, and watches me till mass is ended. I have caught him following our footsteps. But be he gentle or simple, fair or dark, I know not." "A very mysterious character!" cried Juanita, laughing, "like unto the bravo of some Italian tale. Jesu Maria!" she exclaimed, springing to the window, "what goodly cavalier rides hither? His mantle is of three-pile velvet, and he wears golden spurs upon his heels. And with what a grace he sits and manages his [13] fiery genet! Pray Heaven your suitor be as goodly a cavalier." Magdalena gazed forth upon the horseman, and her heart silently confessed that the praises of her cousin were well bestowed. As the cavalier approached the goldsmith's house, he checked the impatient speed of his horse, and gazed upward earnestly at the window where the young girls sat. "Magdalena!" cried the mischievous Juanita, "old Margarita is not here to document us, and I declare your beauty shall have one chance." As she spoke she threw open the blind, and exposed her lovely and blushing cousin to the gaze of the cavalier. Ardently and admiringly he gazed upon her dark and faultless features, and then raising his plumed hat, bowed to his very saddle bow, and rode on, but turned, ever and anon, till he was lost in the distance and gradual darkening of the street. "Mutual admiration!" cried the gay Juanita, clapping her hands. "Thank me for the stratagem. Yon cavalier is, without a doubt, the mysterious admirer of San Ildefonso." Don Julio Montero—for that was the name of the cavalier—returned again beneath the casement, and again saw Magdalena. He also made some purchases of the old goldsmith, and managed to speak a word with his fair daughter in the shop; and in spite of the duenna, billets were exchanged between the parties. The very secrecy with which this little intrigue was managed, the mystery of it, influenced the imagination of Magdalena and increased the violence of her attachment, and loving with all the fervor of her meridian nature, she felt that any disappointment would be her death. One evening, as her secret suitor was passing along a narrow and unfrequent street, a light touch was laid upon his shoulder, and turning, he perceived a tall [14] figure, muffled in a long, dark cloak. "Senor Montero," said the stranger, "one word with you." And then, observing that he hesitated, he threw open his cloak, and added, "Nay, senor, suspect not that my purpose is unfriendly; you see I have no arms, while you wear both rapier and dagger. I merely wish to say a few words on a matter of deep import to yourself." "Your name, senor," replied the other, "methinks should precede any communication you have to make me, would you secure my confidence." "My name, senor, I cannot disclose." "Umph! a somewhat strange adventure!" muttered the young cavalier. "However, friend, since such you purport to be, say your say, and that right briefly, for I have affairs of urgency on my hands." "Briefly, then, senor. You have cast your eyes on the daughter of Antonio Perez, the rich goldsmith?" "Th