Volume Ii Part 15 (1/2)

The shaft duly struck its intended mark, and the duke evidently seemed pleased, for flattery, although, generally speaking, it is often rather coa.r.s.ely served up,

”Yet oft we find that men of wit still condescend to pick a bit.”

The moment so important to Sir Patricius had now arrived--the time of dinner. The castle clock chimed forth the second hour, the baronet's eye sparkling with delight as he beheld the long extended commissary train of eatable artillery enter the _salle de manger_; many an ahem! and

DOSS MOI TANE STIGMEN!

were exultingly e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed forth when the dinner was duly arranged; and with delight he beheld the delicious banquet that lay before him, while gladly he observed the numerous delicacies which were duly recorded in his _carte du jour_, along with the choicest wines, from _Malvoisie de Madere_ to ”imperial Tokay.” Various choice _hors d'oeuvres_ were served up, and succeeded by a splendid course of _entremets_, which concluded with a grand dessert.

Since the royal times of the Dukes of Brabant such an entertainment had not been witnessed in Tervuren Castle.

But there were luxuries this day produced which are not to be found in the _carte du jour_ of either the famous _restaurateurs_ Very, or Beauvillier, or at the celebrated _Rocher de Cancale_ of modern Paris: _videlicet_--ortolan pies, the celebrated _pates des foies gross_[52] of Strasburgh, and the no less famed _pates a croute de seigle des perdreaux rouges aux truffes_, the far-famed Perigord pies, made of the red-legged partridge, and constructed by the confectionary skill and tact of the scientific _pattissiers_ of Perigeux, the capital of the province of Perigord, in France,[53] a luxury well known, and often sent as acceptable presents to peers and princes.

[52] These pies are made from the large liver of a goose. The means taken to cause the enlargement of the liver of the victim are too cruel and horribly disgusting to detail.

[53] Now in the department of Dordogne.

The worthy baronet paid every attention and respect to his honoured guests, and received much praise for a banquet so _recherche_, but it was the opinion of all that it was quite too _magnifique_, and totally out of character both with time and place.

The repast concluded, the ducal party sallied forth to enjoy their favourite walk in the delightful groves and gardens of Tervuren; and entering a summer-house they were agreeably surprised once more with the unceasing attention of Sir Patricius, for they here found tea, coffee, refreshments, fruits, liqueurs, &c., all ready for their acceptance. So soon as tea was over they again resumed their promenade. It was a charming summer evening in the beginning of June, the sky was clear and serene, the leaves of the surrounding forest were unruffled by a breath of air, the very zephyrs seemed at rest; the silent lake lulled to repose, presented, as in a mirror, each object deeply and distinctly reflected on its gla.s.sy surface; it seemed great Nature's holiday; while enraptured with delight they listened to the shrill mellow warbling of the nightingale, increased by the silence of the scene, and the tranquillity of the evening.

Upon this happy afternoon, enjoyed so rationally amid the tranquil secluded grounds and pleasure parks of the once royal castle of Tervuren, Lady Adelaide and Sir David Bruce, having been left aloof from the party, had taken a seat in one of the numerous summer-bowers which adorned the grounds, and in the day-time afforded shelter from the burning blaze of a Belgic sun, where, while the nightingale sweetly sung, Adelaide said, with a cheerful smile, ”My dearest Bruce will not surely prove jealous if for a moment forgetting him, (for it could only be for a moment,”) she added, with emphasis, ”that here I pay the homage of _my_ song to the sweet nightingale, the nightly songster of the grove; the lark is the sunny bird of morn, but the sweetly plaintive nightingale is exclusively the minstrel of the night!”

”Oh, no--oh, no, my dearest, my beloved Adelaide! come, pray, produce thy tablets, for I too am as much enraptured as thou canst be, with this sweet vocal minstrel of the night!”

”As soon done as said;--see, here they are, and accept them, for they are yours;--if they should please my dearest Bruce, I am fully repaid!”

ADDRESS TO THE NIGHTINGALE.

I.

Welcome, melodious nightingale!

Whose warbling thrills thro' wood and dale; Still lonely songster of the night, Thy enchanted strains delight Every list'ner's charmed ear, Melodious minstrel, thee to hear!

II.

Again repeat thy vesper song, Echoed these silent woods among; For ever here I'd fondly stay, And gladly listen to thy lay.

Is it the force of love so strong That pours thy woodland notes along?