The Wandering Jew, Book I.

tains of Avers Febr

existence has thrown me-a journal which, alas! my beloved Eva, you may never read-I experience a sweet, yet painful emotion; fo

f course our child lives. Yes, it must be-for else, poor wife, what an existence would be yours amid the horrors of exile! Dear soul! he must now be fourteen. Whom does he resemble? Is he like you? Has he your large and beautiful blue eyes?-Madman that

as with moist eyes

ared the emotion of her sister. "O

ems to be the name of a famous soldier, thoug

after a toilsome march through a rocky and mountainous district, we received information from our scouts, that the enemy had been reinforced, and was preparing to act on the offensive; and, as we were separated from them by a distance of a few leagues only, an engagement became inevitable. My old friend the prince, the father of my deliverer, was impatient to march to the attack. The action began about three o'clock; it was very bloody and furious. Seeing that our men wavered for a moment, for they were inferior in

her!" sai

thanks to Djalma! You see, Dagobert," added Rose, "

selves into it to despatch me. Surrounded by fire and smoke, and carried away by their ardor, our mountaineers had not seen me fall; but Djalma never left me. He leaped into the ravine to my assistance, and his cool intrepidity saved my life. He had held th

d Blanche, clasping her hands toge

neral calls it. Formerly, he used to call wounds, which did not disable a m

gun, placed the barrel between two branches, and took deliberate aim at Djalma. Before my shouts could apprise him of his danger, the brave youth had received a ball in his breast. Feeling himself hit, he fell bark involuntarily two paces, and dropped upon one knee: but

ce, borne towards the spot by the irresistible current of the battle. Djalma was rescued in his turn, I was released, and, in a quarter of an hour, I was able to mount a horse. The fortune of the day is ours, though with severe loss; but the fire

id: 'A blank wound,' like th

proud independence. He might, like so many other poor princes of this country, have humbled himself before the execrable despotism of the English, bargained for the relinquishment of sovereign power, and submitted to brute force-but it was not in his nature. 'My whole rights, or a grave in my native mountains!'-such is his motto. And this is no empty boast; it springs from the conviction of what is right and just. 'But you will be crushed in the struggle,' I have said to him-'My friend,' he answered, 'what if, to force you to a disgraceful act, you were told to yield or die?'-From that day I understood him, and have devoted mys

blue stripe. The Prussian swore he was dishonored, and that a sabre-cut would have been preferable. I should rather think so! That devil of a king; he only had one idea: 'Forward, on to the cannon!' As soon as they began to cannonade, one would have thought t

conti

I have seen him exchange with his father looks of singular import. In spite of our mutual attachment, I believe that both

ich their vivid imaginations have in

dulity of others. I, since the French campaign, when I met with that extr

hrew himself before the mouth

ince the visits of that young and beautiful woman, whom, as your mot

amazement, looke

nor the general either, my children; t

itement and curiosi

he result of optical illusion or heated fancy, a time must come, when that which appeared to be superhuman or supernatural, will prove to be the most simple

, which at bottom are quite simple-though for

, we must believe it, and n

it will all be e

ot in the habit of seeing you daily, might easily take one for the other. Well! if they did not know that you

ny things may be explained, even as our

igin, had long been settled at Batavia in the island of Java. This similarity of circumstances between my old friend and myself-for your family also, my Eva, is of Frenc

hat barbarous country? But no! the very fear is madness; and yet what a horrible torture is uncertainty! Where may you now be? What are you doing? What has become of you? Pardon these black thoughts, which are sometimes too much for me. They ar

f General Simon and the sad reality; and what could be more touching than these outpourings of the heart, written by the light of a watch fire

nstead of one. That will be at least some consolation. But come, Blanche; do go on reading: I fear that this dwelling on grief fatigues your si

d her eyes, laid in her turn her sweet head on

me a letter, which had arrived from France at Calcutta; at length, I have news of my father, and am no longer anxious on his account. This letter is dated in August of last year. I see by its contents, that several other letters, to which he alludes, have either been delayed or lost; for I had not received a

of old Dagobert, our friend-for in truth, my dear Eva, it soothes my grief to think, that this excellent man is with you, that he wil

ground the little red and blue check-handkerchief spread over his knees. He remained thus

father k

he guessed that y

tle Agricola, and of Gabriel, my wife's adopted child. Poor woman! when I think that in three mo

his house the son of old Dagobert. Agricola works under my father, who is enchanted with him. He is, he tells me, a tall and vigorous lad, who wields the heavy forge hammer as if it were a feather, and is light-spirited as he is intelligent and laborious. He is the best workman on the establishment; and this does not

son, Dagobert," said Rose, in

e songs, before he makes a 'Rising of the People,' or a 'Marseillaise,' he will have had to beat a good deal of iron; but where can this rascally

they called their guardian angel, the curiosity of the young girls was gr

ey have both excellent hearts; but Gabriel is as thoughtful and melancholy as Agricola is lively, joyous, and active. Moreover, adds my father, each of them, so to speak, has the aspect, which be

their ingenuous countenances, Rose said to him; "Have you heard, Dagobert? Father says,

ell; it is that which sur

ow, if he has also b

answer for it: your fair boys have always blue eyes. But, blue or black, h

he re

ter, struck with his intelligence and good disposition, spoke of him to a person of consequence, who, becoming interested in the lad, placed him in a semin

st, it appears?" said R

s an angel,"

riel who has chosen the black gown. I'd rather see my boy with arms bare, hammer in hand, and a leathern apron round him, neither more nor less than your old g

che; "there are only a few l

Dagobert as to the position of his wife and son, whom he left for our sakes. How can we ever repay such a

dy day; I can hear, from hour to hour, the distant all's well of our sentinels. Those foreign words bring back my grief; they remind me of what I sometimes forget in writing-that I am faraway, separated from you and from my child! Poor, beloved beings! what will be your destiny? Ah! if I could only send you, in time, that medal, which, by a fatal accident, I carried away with me from Warsaw, you might, perhaps, obtain leave to visit France, or at le

rrow-after

. The tears of Rose and Blanche flowed together. Dagobert, with

silence reigned in the interior of the inn. But, whilst the daughters of General Simon were reading with such deep emotio