ABSTRACT
The almoner Heurthofen, who had been present during the latter part of this narrative, had fixed on the countenance of Madame D’Alberg his keen enquiring eyes, as if to penetrate into the effect it had on her, and what interest she took in the narrator. Her mother had left the apartment, to give some further orders for the accommodation of her unfortunate guests; but Madame D’Alberg remained pensively, leaning against the wainscot: nor did she move from her reverie till the almoner cried, ‘A very affecting story indeed! This young Frenchman, it seems, is quite a modern Æneas!’a20 ‘I know not,’ answered Madame D’Alberg, ‘what you mean by an Æneas.b He is certainly a most accomplished young man of fashion, and, from his filial affection, highly interesting.’ ‘O yes,’ repeated Heurthofen, ‘highly interesting, certainly.’ ‘His unfortunate situation,’ said Madame D’Alberg, ‘should surely move every good mind in his favour, even if he were without merit.’ ‘Undoubtedly,’ replied Heurthofen, in the same, sneering tone; ‘and the inhabitants of this house particularly, who ought to feel for misfortunes they are so soon likely to share. Most probably, before to-morrow evening, we shall be visited by his countrymen, and turned out to meet such adventures as he has related: There being two emigrants, known to have been in arms, found in the castle, will probably add something to the hostility of the treatment we may expect.’ ‘And would you, therefore,’ said Madame D’Alberg indignantly, ‘have refused admittance to these unhappy fugitives.’ ‘I would have every body,’ answered he, ‘consult their own security first: it is the first law of nature.’ Go then, Sir,’ said the Lady, ‘consult yours by quitting Rosenheim; and know that (with me at least) a man of sentiments such as yours, can at no time be a welcome resident.’
