It Is Midnight Of Christmas, When
An Old Officer, M. De Rochebrune, Pressed With Cold And Hunger To The
Last Point, Resolved To Pawn His St. Louis Cross Of Gold At The
Intendant's Palace Stores.
On the way thither the officer and his
young daughter, a young girl of fourteen, are startled at the blaze of
light illuminating the Palace windows, during one of the Intendant's
festivals.
The pleasures of the evening are suddenly interrupted and
shaded by the entry of the aged, suffering M. de Rochebrune and his
wan-visaged but beautiful daughter. Words of galling truth are
addressed to Bigot before his painted courtezans and his other
depraved attendants, whose hearts are too hard and whose consciences
are too seared to be tortured by either misery or reproof, and the
ruffian varlets eject both father and daughter to the furies of the
midnight blast. The ball ended, Bigot leads Madame de Pean to her
vehicle, when she tumbles over an object which, when torches are
brought, was found to be the corpse of the suppliant rebuker of a few
hours previous, alongside of which lay the unconscious form of his
daughter, half buried in the drifting snow. 'Mon Dieu,' exclaimed
Madame de Pean, 'Il ne dormira pas de la nuit, c'est bien sur.' This
tragic event is narrated with thrilling effect, in the author's best
style." P. B.
In a paper read by us before the Literary and Historical Society of
Quebec, 3rd December, 1879, we alluded in the following terms to the
history of the "Friponne" and the infamous entourage of Intendant Bigot in
the second part of our lecture:
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