The Hated Son | Page 4

fearing to see them move, or to hear a startling
laugh from their gaping and twisted mouths.
At this moment a tempest was growling in the chimney, giving to every
puff of wind a lugubrious meaning,--the vast size of the flute putting
the hearth into such close communication with the skies above that the
embers upon it had a sort of respiration; they sparkled and went out at
the will of the wind. The arms of the family of Herouville, carved in
white marble with their mantle and supporters, gave the appearance of
a tomb to this species of edifice, which formed a pendant to the bed,

another erection raised to the glory of Hymen. Modern architects would
have been puzzled to decide whether the room had been built for the
bed or the bed for the room. Two cupids playing on the walnut
headboard, wreathed with garlands, might have passed for angels; and
columns of the same wood, supporting the tester were carved with
mythological allegories, the explanation of which could have been
found either in the Bible or Ovid's Metamorphoses. Take away the bed,
and the same tester would have served in a church for the canopy of the
pulpit or the seats of the wardens. The married pair mounted by three
steps to this sumptuous couch, which stood upon a platform and was
hung with curtains of green silk covered with brilliant designs called
"ramages"--possibly because the birds of gay plumage there depicted
were supposed to sing. The folds of these immense curtains were so
stiff that in the semi-darkness they might have been taken for some
metal fabric. On the green velvet hanging, adorned with gold fringes,
which covered the foot of this lordly couch the superstition of the
Comtes d'Herouville had affixed a large crucifix, on which their
chaplain placed a fresh branch of sacred box when he renewed at Easter
the holy water in the basin at the foot of the cross.
On one side of the fireplace stood a large box or wardrobe of choice
woods magnificently carved, such as brides receive even now in the
provinces on their wedding day. These old chests, now so much in
request by antiquaries, were the arsenals from which women drew the
rich and elegant treasures of their personal adornment,--laces, bodices,
high collars and ruffs, gowns of price, alms-purses, masks, gloves,
veils,--in fact all the inventions of coquetry in the sixteenth century.
On the other side, by way of symmetry, was another piece of furniture,
somewhat similar in shape, where the countess kept her books, papers,
and jewels. Antique chairs covered with damask, a large and greenish
mirror, made in Venice, and richly framed in a sort of rolling toilet-
table, completed the furnishings of the room. The floor was covered
with a Persian carpet, the richness of which proved the gallantry of the
count; on the upper step of the bed stood a little table, on which the
waiting-woman served every night in a gold or silver cup a drink
prepared with spices.

After we have gone some way in life we know the secret influence
exerted by places on the condition of the soul. Who has not had his
darksome moments, when fresh hope has come into his heart from
things that surrounded him? The fortunate, or the unfortunate man,
attributes an intelligent countenance to the things among which he lives;
he listens to them, he consults them--so naturally superstitious is he. At
this moment the countess turned her eyes upon all these articles of
furniture, as if they were living beings whose help and protection she
implored; but the answer of that sombre luxury seemed to her
inexorable.
Suddenly the tempest redoubled. The poor young woman could augur
nothing favorable as she listened to the threatening heavens, the
changes of which were interpreted in those credulous days according to
the ideas or the habits of individuals. Suddenly she turned her eyes to
the two arched windows at the end of the room; but the smallness of
their panes and the multiplicity of the leaden lines did not allow her to
see the sky and judge if the world were coming to an end, as certain
monks, eager for donations, affirmed. She might easily have believed
in such predictions, for the noise of the angry sea, the waves of which
beat against the castle wall, combined with the mighty voice of the
tempest, so that even the rocks appeared to shake. Though her
sufferings were now becoming keener and less endurable, the countess
dared not awaken her husband; but she turned and examined his
features, as if despair were urging her to find a consolation there
against so many sinister forebodings.
If matters were sad around the poor young woman, that face,
notwithstanding the tranquillity of