f quality and a violent politician. She
was a furious Jansenist; of course I adopted her opinions. About this
time, there was much talk among the Jesuits of the great genius and deep
learning of a young member of the order, Julian Montreuil. Though not
residing in the country, he had sent one or two books to France, which
had been published and had created a great sensation. Well, Sir, my
mistress was the greatest _intriguante_ of her party: she was very rich,
and tolerably liberal; and, among other packets of which a messenger
from England was _carefully_ robbed, between Calais and Abbeville (you
understand me, sir, _carefully_ robbed, _parbleu_! I wish I were robbed
in the same manner, every day in my life!), was one from the said Julian
Montreuil to a political friend of his. Among other letters in this
packet--all of importance--was one descriptive of the English family
with whom he resided. It hit them all, I am told, off to a hair; and it
described, in particular, one, the supposed inheritor of the estates,
a certain Morton, Count Devereux. Since you say you did not read the
letter, I spare your blushes, Sir, and I don't dwell upon what he said
of your talent, energy, ambition, etc. I will only tell you that he
dilated far more upon your prospects than your powers; and that he
expressly stated what was his object in staying in your family and
cultivating your friendship,--he expressly stated that L30,000 a year
would be particularly serviceable to a certain political cause which he
had strongly at heart."

"I understand you," said I, "the Chevalier's?"

"Exactly. 'This sponge,' said Montreuil, I remember the very
phrase,--'this sponge will be well filled, and I am handling it softly
now in order to squeeze its juices hereafter according to the uses of
the party we have so strongly at heart.'"

"It was not a metaphor very flattering to my understanding," said I.

"True, Sir. Well, as soon as my mistress learned this she remembered
that your father, the Marshal, had been one of her _plus chers amis_; in
a word, if scandal says true, he had been _the cher ami_. However, she
was instantly resolved to open your eyes, and ruin the _maudit Jesuite_:
she enclosed the letter in an envelope and sent me to England with it.
I came, I gave it you, and I discovered, in that moment, when the
Abbe entered, that this Julian Montreuil was an old acquaintance of
my own,--was one of the two young men who I told you were such deuce