'The Marquis de Villeroi was its owner,' replied La Voisin,
emphatically. 'Ah!' said St. Aubert, with a deep sigh, 'are we then so near Le-Blanc!'
He appeared much agitated.
'It used to be the Marquis's favourite residence,' resumed La Voisin,
'but he took a dislike to the place, and has not been there for many
years. We have heard lately that he is dead, and that it is fallen into
other hands.' St. Aubert, who had sat in deep musing, was roused by the
last words. 'Dead!' he exclaimed, 'Good God! when did he die?' 'He is reported to have died about five weeks since,' replied La Voisin.
'Did you know the Marquis, sir?' 'This is very extraordinary!' said St. Aubert without attending to the
question. 'Why is it so, my dear sir?' said Emily, in a voice of timid
curiosity. He made no reply, but sunk again into a reverie; and in a
few moments, when he seemed to have recovered himself, asked who had
succeeded to the estates. 'I have forgot his title, monsieur,' said La
Voisin; 'but my lord resides at Paris chiefly; I hear no talk of his
coming hither.' 'The chateau is shut up then, still?'
'Why, little better, sir; the old housekeeper, and her husband the
steward, have the care of it, but they live generally in a cottage hard
by.' 'The chateau is spacious, I suppose,' said Emily, 'and must be desolate
for the residence of only two persons.'
'Desolate enough, mademoiselle,' replied La Voisin, 'I would not pass
one night in the chateau, for the value of the whole domain.'
'What is that?' said St. Aubert, roused again from thoughtfulness. As
his host repeated his last sentence, a groan escaped from St. Aubert,
and then, as if anxious to prevent it from being noticed, he hastily
asked La Voisin how long he had lived in this neighbourhood. 'Almost
from my childhood, sir,' replied his host.
'You remember the late marchioness, then?' said St. Aubert in an altered
voice. 'Ah, monsieur!--that I do well. There are many besides me who remember
her.' 'Yes--' said St. Aubert, 'and I am one of those.' 'Alas, sir! you remember, then, a most beautiful and excellent lady. She
deserved a better fate.' Tears stood in St. Aubert's eyes; 'Enough,' said he, in a voice almost
stifled by the violence of his emotions,--'it is enough, my friend.'
Emily, though extremely surprised by her father's manner, forbore to
express her feelings by any question. La Voisin began to apologize, but
St. Aubert interrupted him; 'Apology is quite unnecessary,' said he,
'let us change the topic. You was speaking of the music we just now
heard.' 'I was, monsieur--but hark!--it comes again; listen to that voice!' They
were all silent;