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Updated: June 20, 2025
He addressed her as his well beloved wife, signed himself her ever-devoted husband, and had the temerity to direct his letter to Madame Waldemar de Volaski, Hotel de la Motte, Rue Faubourg St. Honore, Paris. The mail left St. Vito only twice a week, so that the three letters left the post office on the same day to their respective destinations; one went to St.
She begged her father and mother to pardon her for having sought her happiness in her own way, and assured them, notwithstanding her seemingly unfilial conduct, she still cherished the strongest sentiments of love and honor toward them both, and ever remained their dutiful and affectionate daughter VALERIE DE LA MOTTE DE VOLASKI.
Count de Volaski suffered himself to be conducted to the upper end of the room, where a tall and elegant-looking woman, dressed in rich mourning, stood, leaning on the arm of a stately, middle-aged man. Her face was averted as they approached; but she turned her head and he recognized the beautiful, pale face and lovely dark eyes of his lost bride.
She put it into a sealed envelope, and directed it to Count de Volaski, Poste Restante. Then she sat back in her chair, exhausted from the slight exertion. The maid watched her mistress for a little while, and then said: "Pardon, madame; but it is half-past twelve." "Yes! I must dress," said Valerie rising. "What costume will madame wear?" "Any. It does not signify."
The other was to the Count de Volaski, apprising that nobleman of the condition of his son, and imploring him to hasten at once to the bedside of the patient.
I was as helpless as an infant in the hands of my father and my mother!" she panted, in a voice that was the more heart-rending from half suppression. "Valerie! love! wife!" murmured Volaski, in low and tender tones, as he essayed to take her hand. But she snatched it from him hastily, gasping: "Do not speak to me in that way! Do not call me love or wife!"
"He is the Count Waldemar de Volaski, once my betrothed husband, but who forsook me, as I have told you, for another and a fairer woman," gravely replied the abbess. "Once your betrothed husband, madam! Great Heaven! are you sure of this?" exclaimed Salome, in consternation. "Yes, sure of it," answered the abbess, slowly bending her head.
It was as much as each could do to maintain a conventional calmness through the terrible ordeal of such an introduction. Lord C., happily unconscious of anything wrong, did the very best thing he could have done under the circumstances. Scarcely allowing the count and the duchess time to exchange their bow and courtesy, he turned to her companion and said: "Duke, the Count de Volaski.
The Baron de la Motte, leaving Captain de Volaski stretched on the ground, to be cared for by the seconds and the surgeon in attendance, went back to the hotel and made preparations to leave San Vito. Mademoiselle de la Motte, still very weak from recent illness, was placed in a carriage at the risk of her life, and compelled to commence the journey back to France.
Waldemar de Volaski, left as dead upon the duelling ground by his antagonist, the Baron de la Motte, was tenderly lifted by his second and the surgeon in attendance, laid upon a stretcher, and conveyed to the infirmary of a neighboring monastery, where he was charitably received by the brethren.
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