The New-York Weekly Magazine, or Miscellaneous Repository Part 2

The Queen started up, and went to another part of the room, as if in search of something, but soon came back again:

"He wants to see you and you are _here?_"

"Before I received the letter of my father, I had promised to that _Unknown_ of whom I have been speaking, that nothing should detain me from travelling to Fr**ce, and imploring your a.s.sistance in behalf of my unhappy country."

"Poor father!" said the Queen, absorbed in melancholy, "how anxiously will he have expected the arrival of his son--I fancy I see the dying Marquis, how he extends his arms in vain to receive the child of his love--"

"Does your Majesty know my father?" I enquired hastily.

She gazed at me. "If I know him?---no!---yes---I saw him several times when at the court of my father---But why do you ask this question?"---Without giving me time to reply, she resumed, "Make haste!

make haste, return to your native country; perhaps he is yet alive---the sight of you will animate him with new strength, he will recover in your arms, and perhaps be restored to health!" The last words she p.r.o.nounced with a visible joyful emotion.

"Shall I leave your Majesty," I replied "without having my prayer granted? Is my unhappy country to expect no a.s.sistance from a Queen whose sentiments are so sublime? Is the picture of the best of women to be to me a lasting mark of her favour and displeasure?"

She seemed to meditate, "It is true," she said at length, "we have entirely wandered from your concerns. Did you not tell me that you are haunted every where by an apparition? I too have seen an apparition some time ago. It was the ghost of my departed father, who, at midnight drew the curtains of my bed, and said 'I am very wretched my daughter!

neither prayers nor ma.s.ses will give me relief, while Por****l which we have usurped shall be submitted to the Sp***sh sceptre. O! my daughter, if the least spark of filial love is left in thy bosom, if thou wilt relieve me from unspeakable torments, then make use of all thy interest at this court, in order to support the endeavours of those who, at present, are secretly occupied to deliver Por****l from her oppressors.

A n.o.ble youth will arrive in a few days and implore thy a.s.sistance. He is sent from Heaven; grant his prayer. He has a mole on his left breast, which will be to thee a token of his mission."

I started up. "That youth stands before your Majesty," I exclaimed, uncovering my breast, "behold here the mole. O! relieve the suffering spirit of your father, relieve my country!"

She seemed to be in a trance, encircling me with her arms, and straining me to her bosom. "Thy prayer is granted!" she said in a faint accent.---No sooner had the last syllable escaped her lips, when the sound of a little bell was heard in the adjoining apartment. She disengaged herself from my neck and started back, "Gracious heaven!---"

she exclaimed, pale and trembling, "the King is returned. Begone! for G.o.d's sake begone!"

I was going to obey her command; the stopped me: "Never reveal a word of what has happened between ourselves," she whispered; "leave the palace and the kingdom as soon as possible: beware of the King, I conjure you!"

I prostrated myself and encircled her knees, shedding tears of anguish; wanted to take leave, but could not utter a single word. The bell in the adjoining apartment was rung a second time; the Queen disengaged herself seized with terror: "make haste!---flee!---O stay!" she exclaimed when I hastened to the door, "come back!" She opened her arms to receive me; I flew to her bosom; she imprinted three burning kisses on my lips, and hurried into an adjoining apartment.

I do not recollect how I got out of the room. On the staircase I observed first, that the same lady who had conducted me to the Queen was walking by my side. We returned the same way by which I had entered the palace, and I arrived happily at our hotel in the company of the Count.

After I had communicated to him my success, I went to my apartment in order to give audience to my thoughts; however I was not able to account for the behaviour of the Queen, and my feelings during the whole scene.

Was it love that I felt for the Queen? certainly not; at least, my sentiments for her were quite different from those I entertained for Amelia; was it mere esteem that endeared her so much to me?

impossible!---My heart left me entirely in the dark with respect to that point, as well as my reason. It is true, _one_ particular idea prevailed in my soul, however it appeared to me ridiculous, as soon as I reflected on other circ.u.mstances. The account which the Queen gave me of the apparition of the ghost of her father, completed my confusion. Was it the work of the _Unknown_, and did she really believe she had seen the ghost of her father? in that case the grant of my prayer was perhaps merely the consequence of her love for her father, whom she hoped to release thus from his sufferings; even her tears, embraces, and kisses, were then nothing else but means of alluring me to strain every nerve, in order to bring to a happy conclusion an undertaking, from the execution of which the eternal happiness of her father depended. But perhaps---and that, I thought, was not less possible---has she only invented that apparition in order to prevent me from suspecting the real source of her willingness to grant my prayer, and her confidential and endearing deportment? Even the manner in which she mentioned the mole on my breast, appeared to me an artifice which she might have made use of, rather to a.s.sure herself of the ident.i.ty of my person, than of my mission from above; and this supposition received an additional confirmation, by her singular behaviour, after the discovery.---Thus I was wandering in the mazy labyrinth of conjectures and doubts, till sleep stole upon me by degrees, and shut my heavy eyes.

We left P**is the following night, and directed our road to Sp**n as Hiermanfor had ordered.

I stopped a few days at **cia, a hundred miles from the frontiers of Fr**ce, in order to rest a little from the fatigues of my journey, and received from the bribed surgeon a letter from my father, who informed me he was in a fair way of recovery. This welcome intelligence animated me with new life, and dispelled the gloom which had overcast my mind. We continued our journey without delay, and arrived at ***pala, where we alighted at the princ.i.p.al hotel. The first object that attracted my attention, was a handsome well dressed man, whose features struck me at a great distance, because I fancied I knew them. He was engaged in conversation with a tall thin man, and did not observe me till I was close by him. My sudden appearance seemed to surprize him, and the sight of him produced the same effect upon me, for now I perceived that it was Paleski, Amelia's former valet. He approached me with evident marks of uneasiness, and welcomed me in broken accents. I ordered him to follow me to my apartment. The first question I put to him, was where Amelia resided, and how she was. Paleski lamented it was not in his power to give me the least information on that head. I enquired after the _Unknown_, and he a.s.sured me that he had not seen him since the last scene in the wood. "However," said I, "you still owe me an account of a dreadful accident concerning the _Unknown_, of which you pretended to have been informed on your pilgrimage." Paleski hesitated a few moments, and then promised to satisfy my curiosity the day following, being prevented by business of great importance from doing it on the spot.

I dismissed him, with the injunction not to forget to come to my apartment in the evening of the next day. He promised it; however I waited in vain for him, for in his room a Capuchin friar came to my hotel, desiring to speak a few words to me in private. I ordered him to be admitted, and was told by him that Paleski had had a quarrel with some young men, who first had intoxicated and then provoked him, and that he had received some mortal wounds, by which he was confined to his bed at the hospital where he desired to see me, in order to disclose to me important secrets. The friar offered to conduct me to the hospital, and I drove thither in anxious expectation.

When I alighted at the gate of the hospital, I met Count Clairval. He seemed to be petrified when he saw me in the company of the friar.

"Whither are you going?" he enquired at length. "To Paleski, who is on the brink of eternity." The Count changed colour, and whispered in my ear: "Don't go, the fellow is infected with a contagious disease."---"You are mistaken (was my answer) he has been wounded dangerously, as his confessor tells me." "I have just come from him,"

the Count resumed with visible uneasiness, "the fever has deranged his head, and he will tell you a number of foolish things." "No matter,"

I replied, "I must see him, for he has sent me word that he has important discoveries to make." "What can he discover to you?" said the Count, "Paleski has ever been an impostor." "This will render his confession on the brink of eternity so much the more remarkable. But I must not lose a moment. Farewell, Count, till I see you again!" So saying, I tore myself from him, and hastened with the friar to Paleski's apartment. When the nurse had left the room, the former said: "you need but ring the bell, if you should want me, I shall be within hearing."---With these words he went out of the room. Paleski stared at me for some time. The livid colour of death covered his haggard countenance, and the most agonizing anguish of a tormented conscience was strongly painted on his looks. "My Lord!" he at length began, "I owe you a thousand thanks for your condescension; I should undoubtedly have fallen a sacrifice to black despair, if you had refused to give me an opportunity to unfold mysteries to you which lie heavy on my mind."

I took a seat close by the bed, seized with dreadful bodings.

(_To be continued._)

_A remarkable account of two Brothers, extracted from Linschoten's Voyages._

In the sixteenth century, the Portuguese carracks sailed from _Lisbon_ to _Goa_. There were no less than twelve hundred souls on board one of these vessels. The beginning of their voyage was prosperous; they had doubled the Cape of _Good Hope_ and were steering their course North-east, to the great continent of India, when some Gentlemen on board who having studied Geography and Navigation, found in the lat.i.tude they were then in, a large ridge of rocks laid down in their Sea-charts.

They no sooner made this discovery, than they acquainted the Captain of the ship with it, desiring him to communicate the same to the pilot, which request he immediately granted, recommending him to lay by in the night, and slacken sail in the day, until they should be past the danger. It is a custom among the Portuguese absolutely to commit the navigation, or sailing part of the vessel to the Pilot, who is answerable with his head for the safe-conduct or carriage of the King's ships, or those that belong to private traders; and is under no manner of direction from the Captain, who commands in every other respect. The Pilot being a self sufficient man, took it as an affront to be taught his art, and instead of complying with the captain's request, actually crowded more sail. They had not sailed many hours, before the ship struck upon a rock. In this distress the Captain ordered the pinnace to be launched, into which having tossed a small quant.i.ty of biscuit, and some boxes of marmalade, he jumped in himself with nineteen others, who with their swords prevented the coming in of any more, lest the boat should sink. In this condition they put off in the great Indian ocean, without a compa.s.s to steer by or any fresh water, but what might happen to fall from the heavens, whose mercy alone could deliver them.

After they had rowed to and fro for four days the captain died: this added, if possible, to their misery, for as they now fell into confusion, every one would govern and none would obey. This obliged them to elect one of their company to command them, whose orders they implicitly agreed to follow. This person proposed to draw lots, and to cast every fourth man overboard; as their small stock of provision was not sufficient to sustain life above three days longer. They were now nineteen persons in all; in this number were a friar and a carpenter, both of whom they would exempt, as one was useful to absolve and comfort them in their last extremity, and the other to repair the pinnace, in case of a leak or other accident. The same compliment they paid to their new captain, he being the odd man, and his life of much consequence. He refused their indulgence a great while; but at last they obliged him to acquiesce, so that there were four to die out of sixteen.

The three first, after having confessed and received absolution submitted to their fate. The fourth was a Portuguese gentleman that had a younger brother in the boat, who seeing him about to be thrown overboard most tenderly embraced him, and with tears in his eyes besought him to let him die in his room, telling him that he had a wife and children at _Goa_, besides the care of three sisters: that as for himself he was single, and his life of no great importance; he therefore conjured him to suffer him to supply his place. The elder brother astonished with this generosity, replied, That since the divine Providence had appointed him to suffer, it would be wicked to permit any other to die for him; especially a brother to whom he was so infinitely obliged. The younger would take no denial; but throwing himself on his knees held his brother so fast that the company could not disengage them. Thus they disputed for awhile, the elder brother bidding him be a father to his children, and recommended his wife to his protection, and as he would inherit his estate, to take care of their common sisters; but all he said could not make the younger desist. At last the elder brother acquiesced, and suffered the gallant youth to supply his place, who being cast into the sea, and a good swimmer, soon got to the stern of the pinnace and laid hold of the rudder with his right hand, which being perceived by one of the sailors, he cut off the hand with his sword: then dropping into the sea, he frequently caught hold again with his left, which received the same fate. Thus dismembered of both hands, he made a shift to keep himself above water with his feet and two stumps, which he held bleeding upwards.

This spectacle so raised the pity of the whole company that they cried out, he is but one man! let us endeavour to save his life! and he was accordingly taken into the boat; where he had his stumps bound up as well as the place and circ.u.mstances would permit. They rowed all that night, and the next morning, when the sun rose, as if heaven would reward the piety and gallantry of this young man, they descried land, which proved to be the mountains of _Mozambique_ in _Africa_, not far from a Portuguese colony. There they all safely arrived, where they remained until the next ship from _Lisbon_ pa.s.sed by and carried them to _Goa_.

At that city, _Linschoten_, a writer of good credit, a.s.sured us, that he himself saw them land, supped with the two brothers that very night, beheld the younger with his stumps, and had the story from their mouths, as well as from the rest of the company.

[[Source:

Original: Jan Huyghen van Linschoten (1563-1611), _Voyages_.

First English translation: 1598, rpt. by Hakluyt society 1885.

Notes: "At that city, _Linschoten_, a writer of good credit, a.s.sured us, that he himself saw them land."

The article is loosely adapted from chapter CXII, "Of certaine memorable Things", vol. II, pg. 179-181 in the reprint.

Link: http://www.archive.org/details/voyagejohnhuygh01tielgoog and http://www.archive.org/details/voyagejohnhuygh02tielgoog]]

SENTIMENTAL PERFUMERY.

A sentimental Perfumer recommends it to the fine ladies, to furnish their toilets with the following articles:

_Self knowledge:_--A mirror, shewing the full shape in the truest light.

_Innocence:_--A white paint, which will stand for a considerable time, if not abused.

_Modesty:_--Very best rouge, giving a becoming bloom to the cheek.

_Contentment:_--An infallible smoother of wrinkles in the face.

_Truth:_--A salve, rendering the lips soft and peculiarly graceful.

_Good humour:_--An universal beautifier.

_Mildness:_--Giving a tincture to the voice.

_Tears of Pity:_--A water, that gives l.u.s.tre and brightness to the eye.

N.B. The constant use of these articles cannot fail rendering them quite agreeable to the sensible and deserving part of mankind.