The Lady Sleuths MEGAPACK TM(930)
At length Bontems appeared, approached the King, and spoke a few words so softly that the ladies could not hear them.
Mademoiselle de Scudéri trembled; but the King rose, went up to her, and said, with beaming eyes: “I congratulate you, Mademoiselle. Your protégé, Olivier Brusson, is free.”
Mademoiselle de Scudéri, with tears streaming down her cheeks, unable to utter a word, would have cast herself at the King’s feet; but he prevented her, saying: “Come, Come! Mademoiselle, you ought to be my Attorney-General and plead my causes, for nobody on earth can resist your eloquence and powers of persuasion. He who is shielded by virtue,” he added more gravely, “may snap his fingers at every accusation, by the Chambre Ardente, or any other tribunal on earth.”
Mademoiselle de Scudéri, now finding words, poured forth a most glowing tribute of gratitude. But the King interrupted her, saying there were warmer thanks awaiting her at home than any he could expect from her, as at that moment doubtless Olivier was embracing his Madelon. “Bontems,” added His Majesty, “will hand you a thousand Louis, which you will give the little one from me as a wedding portion. Let her marry her Brusson, who does not deserve such a treasure, and then they must both leave Paris. That is my will.”
La Martinière came to meet her mistress with eager steps, followed by Baptiste, their faces beaming with joy, and both crying out: “He is here! he is free! Oh, the dear young couple!”
The happy pair fell at Mademoiselle de Scudéri’s feet, and Madelon cried: “Ah! I knew that you, and you only, would save my husband.”
“You have been my mother,” cried Olivier, “my belief in you never wavered.” They kissed her hands, and shed many tears; and then they embraced again, and vowed that the heavenly bliss of that moment was worth all the nameless sufferings of the days that were past.
In a few days the priest pronounced his blessing upon them. Even had it not been the King’s command that they were to leave Paris, Brusson could not have remained there, where everything reminded him of the dreadful epoch of Cardillac’s atrocities, and where any accident might have disclosed the evil secret, already known to several persons, and destroyed the peace of his life for ever. Immediately after the wedding he started with his young wife for Geneva, sped on his way by Mademoiselle de Scudéri’s blessings. Handsomely provided with Madelon’s portion, his own skill at his calling, and every civic virtue, he there led a happy life, without a care. The hopes, whose frustration had sent the father to his grave, were fulfilled in the son.
A year after Brusson left Paris, a public proclamation, signed by Harloy de Chauvalon, Archbishop of Paris, and by Pierre Arnaud D’Andilly, Advocate of the Parliament, appeared, stating that a repentant sinner had, under seal of confession, made over to the Church a valuable stolen treasure of gold and jewels. All those who, up to about the end of the year 1680, had been robbed of property of this description, particularly if by murderous attack in the street, were directed to apply to D’Andilly, when they would receive it back, provided that anything in the said collection agreed with the description to be by them given, and provided that there was no doubt of the genuineness of the application. Many whose names occurred in Cardillac’s list as having been merely stunned, not murdered, came from time to time to D’Andilly to reclaim their property, and received it back, to their no small surprise. The remainder became the property of the Church of St. Eustache.
MY FAMOUS RELATIVE, by Janice Law
As long as I can remember, my famous relative, Professor Jonken, was an important person in my life. When I was a child, his portrait, placed above the buffet in the dining room, literally loomed overhead, and all the romance archeology has ever held for me was summed up in that image. The great man stood in front of a massive stone work deep in jungle. Feathery sepia colored boughs closed off the sky; the walls, perfect, yet barbaric, stretched high overhead. A serape clad worker stood to one side, leaning on a pickax, his face in shadow, while the professor, himself, wearing a slouch hat, a shirt with lots of pockets, and pants tucked into high boots, held center stage. The camera caught him as he looked up from his notebook. Tall and commanding, with strong features and light eyes, he was a prince in the wilderness, and everything around him breathed mystery and adventure.