CHAPTER XIX.
HOW CHICOT FOUND OUT THAT IT WAS EASIER TO GO IN THAN OUT OF THEABBEY.
Chicot, from the cloak and other things under the monk's robe,looked much larger across the shoulders than usual. His beardwas of the same color as Gorenflot's, and he had so often amusedhimself with mimicking the monk's voice and manner of speakingthat he could do it perfectly. Now, everyone knows that the beardand the voice are the only things which are recognizable fromunder the depths of a monk's hood. Chicot exhibited his coin,and was admitted without difficulty, and then followed two othermonks to the chapel of the convent. In this chapel, built in theeleventh century, the choir was raised nine or ten feet abovethe rest of the building, and you mounted into it by two lateralstaircases, while an iron door between them led from the nave tothe crypt, into which you had to descend again. In this choirthere was a portrait of St. Genevieve, and on each side of thealtar were statues of Clovis and Clotilda.
Three lamps only lighted the chapel, and the imperfect lightgave a greater solemnity to the scene. Chicot was glad to findthat he was not the last, for three monks entered after in grayrobes, and placed themselves in front of the altar. Soon after,a little monk, doubtless a lad belonging to the choir, came andspoke to one of these monks, who then said, aloud,--
"We are now one hundred and thirty-six."
Then a great noise of bolts and bars announced that the doorwas being closed. The three monks were seated in armchairs, likejudges. The one who had spoken before now rose and said--
"Brother Monsoreau, what news do you bring to the Union from theprovince of Anjou?"
Two things made Chicot start, the first was the voice of thespeaker, the second the name of Monsoreau, known to the court onlythe last few days. A tall monk crossed the assembly, and placedhimself in a large chair, behind the shadow of which Chicot hadkept himself.
"My brothers," said a voice which Chicot recognized at once as thatof the chief huntsman, "the news from Anjou is not satisfactory;not that we fail there in sympathy, but in representatives. Theprogress of the Union there had been confided to the Baron deMeridor, but he in despair at the recent death of his daughter,has, in his grief, neglected the affairs of the league, and wecannot at present count on him. As for myself, I bring three newadherents to the association. The council must judge whether thesethree, for whom I answer, as for myself, ought to be admittedinto the Union."
A murmur of applause followed and as Monsoreau regained hisseat,--"Brother la Huriere," cried the same monk, "tell us whatyou have done in the city of Paris."
A man now took the chair and said, "My brothers, you know I amdevoted to the Catholic faith, and I have given proofs of thisdevotion on the great day of its triumph. Yes, my brothers, Iglory in saying that I was one of the faithful of our great Henride Guise, and that I followed his orders strictly. I have nownoted all the heretics of the Quartier St. Germain l'Auxerrois,where I shall hold the hotel of the Belle-Etoile, at your service,my brothers. Now, although I no longer thirst for the blood ofheretics as formerly, I do not delude myself as to the real objectof the holy Union which we are forming. If I am not deceived,brothers, the extinction of private heretics is not all we aim at.We wish to be sure that we shall never be governed by a hereticprince. Now, my friends, what is our situation? Charles IX., whowas zealous, died without children; Henri Ill. will probablydo the same, and there remains only the Duc d'Anjou, who notonly has no children either, but seems cold towards us."
"What makes you accuse the prince thus?" said the monk who alwaysspoke.
"Because he has not joined us."
"Who tells you so, since there are new adherents?"
"It is true; I will wait; but after him, who is mortal, and hasno children, to whom will the crown fall? To the most ferociousHuguenot that can be imagined, to a renegade, a Nebuchadnezzar?"Here the acclamations were tremendous.
"To Henri of Bearn," continued he, "against whom this associationis chiefly directed--to Henri, who the people at Pau, or Tarbes,think is occupied with his love affairs, but who is in Paris!"
"In Paris! impossible!" cried many voices.
"He was here on the night when Madame de Sauve was assassinated,and perhaps is here still."
"Death to the Bearnais!" cried several.
"Yes, doubtless, and if he came to lodge at the Belle-Etoile,I answer for him; but he will not come. One does not catch afox twice in the same hole. He will lodge with some friend, forhe has friends. The important thing is to know them. Our unionis holy, our league is loyal, consecrated and blessed by thePope; therefore I demand that it be no longer kept secret, butthat we go into the houses and canvass the citizens. Those whosign will be our friends, the others our enemies, and if a secondSt. Bartholomew come, which seems to the faithful to be morenecessary daily, we shall know how to separate the good from thewicked."
Thunders of acclamation followed. When they were calm, the monkwho always spoke said,--
"The proposition of Brother la Huriere, whom the union thanksfor his zeal, will be taken into consideration by the superiorcouncil."
La Huriere bowed, amidst fresh applause.
"Ah! ah!" thought Chicot, "I begin to see clearly into all this.The Guises are forming a nice little party, and some fine morningHenri will find that he has nothing left, and will be politelyinvited to enter a monastery. But what will they do with theDuc d'Anjou?"
"Brother Gorenflot," then cried the monk.
No one replied.
"Brother Gorenflot," cried the little monk, in a voice whichmade Chicot start; for it sounded like a woman's. However, herose, and speaking like the monk, said,--
"Here I am; I was plunged in profound meditation." He fearednot to reply, for the members had been counted, and thereforethe absence of a member would have provoked an examination.Therefore, without hesitation, he mounted the chair and began.
"My brothers, you know that I purvey for the convent, and havethe right of entering every dwelling. I use this privilege forthe good of religion. My brothers," continued he, rememberingGorenflot's beginning, "this day, which unites us, is a goodone for the faith. Let us speak freely, my brothers, since weare in the house of God.
"What is the kingdom of France? A body. '_Omnis civitas corpusest_.' What is the first requisite of a body? Good health.How do we preserve this? By prudent bleedings at times. Now itis evident that the enemies of our religion are too strong; wemust therefore once more bleed that great body we call society.This is what is constantly said to me by the faithful, who giveme ham, eggs, or money for the convent."
Several murmurs of approbation interrupted Chicot, then he wenton.
"Some may object that the church abhors blood. But they do notsay what blood, and I wager that it is not the blood of hereticsit abhors. And then another argument; I said, 'the church;' butare we the church? Brother Monsoreau, who spoke so well justnow, has, I doubt not, his huntsman's knife in his belt. Brotherla Huriere manages the spit; I, myself, who speak to you--I,Jacques Gorenflot, have carried the musket in Champagne. It nowremains to us to speak of our chiefs, of whom it seems to me,poor monk as I am, that there is something to say. Certainly, itis very well and prudent to come at night under a monk's robe,to hear Brother Gorenflot preach; but it appears to me that theirduties do not stop there. So much prudence may make the Huguenotslaugh. Let us play a part more worthy of the brave people we are.What do we want? The extinction of heresy. Well, that may becried from the housetops, it seems to me. Why not march in holyprocession, displaying our good cause, and our good partisans,but not like the thieves, who keep looking round them to see ifthe watch is coming. Who is the man who will set the example?Well, it is I, Jacques Gorenflot; I, unworthy brother of theorder of St. Genevieve, poor and humble purveyor of the convent.It shall be I, who with a cuirass on my back, a helmet on myhead, and a musket on my shoulder, will march at the head ofall good Catholics who will follow me. This I would do, were itonly to make those chiefs blush, who, while defending the Church,hide, as if their cause was
a bad one."
This speech, which corresponded with the sentiments of many there,was received with shouts of applause; and the more so, as upto this time Gorenflot had never shown any enthusiasm for thecause. However, it was not the plan of the chiefs to let thisenthusiasm proceed. One of the monks spoke to the lad, who criedin his silvery voice, "My brothers, it is time to retire; thesitting is over."
The monks rose, all determined to insist on the procession atthe next meeting. Many approached the chair to felicitate theauthor of this brilliant speech; but Chicot, fearful of beingrecognized, threw himself on his knees and buried his head inhis hands, as if in prayer. They respected his devotions, andwent towards the door. However, Chicot had missed his chief aim.What had made him quit the king was the sight of M. de Mayenne andNicolas David, on both of whom he had, as we know, vowed vengeance;and although the duke was too great a man to be attacked openly,Nicolas David was not, and Chicot was so good a swordsman as tofeel sure of success if he could but meet him. He therefore beganto watch each monk as he went out, and perceived to his terrorthat each, on going out, had to show some sign again. Gorenflothad told him how to get in, but not how to get out again.