ined delicacy in all the arrangements, that the fair Alice
herself had superintended the preparations. Happy the man who should
bestow the first chaste kiss of wedded love, upon the pure lips of a
lovely bride, within that soft bower of voluptuousness!

She is disrobed; from her virgin limbs are removed the snowy garments;
she is coquettishly arrayed in the seductive costume of bewitching
night! She blushes, and is almost painfully embarrassed; for never
before have her glowing charms been contemplated thus, even by female
eyes. She finds herself at last reclining within the luxurious folds of
the magnificent nuptial couch; then her kind friends kiss her--bid her
a smiling good-night--and leave her to await the coming of her husband.
For the first time, her bosom heaves tumultuously with emotions which
she acknowledges to be delightful, though she cannot comprehend them.

But where, meanwhile, is the happy bridegroom? He is at the head of the
splendid board, responding to the many toasts which are proposed in his
honor, and that of his lovely and expectant bride. Again and again he
fills the goblet, and quaffs the foaming champagne. He fascinates
everybody by his rare eloquence--his inimitable wit; Mr. Goldworthy
congratulates himself on his good fortune in having secured so
charming--so talented a son-in-law. The dark eyes of the Chevalier
sparkle almost fearfully; his superb countenance is flushed with wine
and passion. This rosy god of the grape has nearly conquered him; he is
more than half intoxicated. Losing his habitual caution, he launches
forth into the recital of the most brilliant and daring adventures in
intrigue, fraud and robbery, he relates these events with a gusto that
would seem to indicate his having taken a leading part in them himself.
The guests are startled, and view him with an admiration mixed with
fear. The Chevalier drinks deeper and deeper. Wilder and more exciting
grow his narratives; he tells strange tales of the Italian banditti--of
pirates upon the Spanish main--of dashing French pickpockets--of bold
English highwaymen--of desperate American burglars, and of expert
counterfeiters. Mr. Goldworthy, at last, begins to regard him with a
feeling akin to suspicion. "Who can this man be," he mentally asks
himself--"that talks so familiarly of every species of crime and
villainy? Is he a fitting husband for my pure and gentle daughter? Can
he have been a participant in those lawless adventures wh