CHAPTER XII.
It was late in the morning when St. Real awoke; and so profound hadbeen his slumbers during the latter hours of their course, that thedoor of his chamber had been opened without his knowing it; and, onlooking round, he found the young Dominican sitting at the farther endof the room, employed, as usual, in turning over busily the leaves ofhis breviary. In his eye there was more wild and gloomy fire than St.Real had remarked on the preceding evening; and the young noble, whocould not help connecting the monk with the trick that had been playedoff upon him during the night, resolved to speak upon the subject atonce, in the hope of discovering what was the real object of thefriars.
"Good morrow, father!" he said, as their eyes first met; "I trust youhave slept more soundly than I have."
"Why should _you_ sleep unsoundly?" demanded the Dominican in return."You have no mighty thoughts! you have no heavenly calling! you haveno glorious revelations to keep you waking! Why should you sleepunsoundly?"
"Simply, because foolish people took the trouble to disturb me,"replied St. Real. "Heard you not the singing, and saw you not thelight?"
"Foolish people!" cried the friar, with his grey eyes gleaming: "callyou the angels of Heaven foolish people? Yes, profane man, I saw thelight, and I heard the singing; and that you heard and saw it too,shows me that it was no dream, but a blessed reality! But you saw notwhat I saw! you heard not what I heard! You saw not the winged angelof the Lord that entered my cell, bearing the sword of the vengeanceof God! you heard not the message of Heaven to poor Jacques Clement,bidding him go forth in the power of faith, and smite the Holofernesat St. Cloud--the oppressor of the people of the Lord, the enemy andcontemner of the will of the Highest!"
"No, indeed!" answered St. Real, "I neither heard nor saw any of thesethings; but I now perceive, father, that the vision was addressed toyou, not to me, as at first I believed it to be. But tell me, goodfather, you surely are not simple enough to take all this that youhave seen for--"
Ere St. Real could conclude his sentence, the door, which theDominican had left ajar, was thrown wide open, and the Prior of theconvent entered the room, and approached the bed where the younggentleman had remained resting on his arm while he maintained thisbrief conversation with Father Clement. "Good morrow, my son!" saidthe Prior. "What! still abed! Brother Clement, thou mayst withdraw."
The friar immediately obeyed; and the superior went on: "Ibring you tidings, my son, which you will be glad to hear. Thelieutenant-general of the kingdom has been informed of your arrest;and, notwithstanding some circumstances of a suspicious kind whichjustified that measure, trusts so much to your good faith and honour,that he has ordered your liberation, and recognises the validity ofyour safe-conduct. Some of his officers wait below; your ownattendants are now collected in the court; and all is prepared inorder that you may immediately visit him. In the meantime, however,while you rise and dress yourself, I would fain speak a few words ofwarning and advice."
"Willingly will I attend, reverend father," replied St. Real, who wasdisposed to show every sort of respect to the teachers of hisreligion, although he could not but believe that there was a good dealof double-dealing, even in the very speech by which the Priorannounced the tidings of his liberation. "Happy am I to hear that theDuke of Mayenne, however he may have learned my detention, is moreawake to a sense of his own honour, than that detention itself seemedto imply. But let me hear: what is it you would say, good father?"
"As a vowed teacher of the true faith, and a preacher of the holyGospel," replied the Dominican, "I would warn you, my son, against anyhesitation in those particulars where your eternal salvation isconcerned. In matters of faith, as in matters of virtue, there can bebut one right and wrong: there is no middle course in religion; and,if you are a true Catholic, holding the doctrines of the apostolicchurch, and reverencing that authority which the Saviour of mankindtransferred to blessed St. Peter and his successors, you must hold theenemies of that church, who oppose its doctrines, and strive for itsoverthrow, as blasphemous and sacrilegious heretics, whose existenceis an ulcer in the state, whose very neighbourhood is dangerous, andwhose companionship is a pest. You must hold those who, pretending tobe apostolic Catholics, support, maintain and consort with the enemiesof that religion, as even worse than those enemies themselves,inasmuch as they add hypocrisy and falsehood to heresy and sacrilege;and when you perceive that every vice which can degrade human naturecharacterises those who are thus apostates to the church, andprotectors of heresy, you will see the natural consequences which fallupon such as disobey the injunctions of the church they acknowledge,and the punishment that will attend all those who uphold a foul andevil cause,--disgrace, dishonour, loss of their own esteem, crimesthat they once regarded with horror; in this life infamy, misfortune,and reverse; speedy death; and then eternal condemnation."
In the same strain the Prior proceeded for some time, enlarging, andnot without eloquence, upon all the common topics with which thepreachers of the League were accustomed to stir up the fanaticalspirit of their auditors. He touched also upon St. Real's ownsituation, his power of choosing, at that moment, between good andbad: he spoke of the unquestionable honour and high repute of many ofthe leaders of his faction; he painted in the most dark and terriblecolours the vices and the crimes that stained the court of Henry III.;and he artfully glossed over, or passed in silence, all that could bedetrimental to his own party in the opinion of an honourable and anupright gentleman. He said nothing of the ambition, the rapacity, thedebauchery, the prostitution of feeling, honour, virtue, patriotism,to the basest party purposes and the most sordid self-interests, whichdisgraced the faction of the League.
While he proceeded, St. Real went on with the occupations of histoilet, and, somewhat to the annoyance of the Dominican, heard hisoration in favour of the League with a degree of calmness that set allhis powers of penetration at defiance. He expressed neither assent nordissent; neither wonder at all the charges which the Prior broughtagainst the King and his minions, nor admiration of the characterswhich he attributed to the leaders of the League. He listened, but hedid not even take advantage of any pause to answer; and, when thePrior had completely concluded, he merely said, "Well, father, I shallsoon see all these things with my own eyes, and shall then determine."
Somewhat piqued to find that all his oratory had produced so small aneffect, the Prior rose, and, with an air of stern dignity, movedtowards the door. As he approached it, he turned, drew up his tallfigure to its full height, and, lifting his right hand, with the twofirst fingers raised, he said, in an impressive tone, while he fixedhis keen eyes upon the figure of the young Marquis, "Remember, my son,what Christ, your Saviour himself, has said: 'He that is not for me,is against me;'" and, without waiting for a reply, he turned andquitted the room.
Unmoved by what he considered, rightly, a piece of stage effect, St.Real soon followed, and found the door of the corridor left open;while the servant, who had been suffered to accompany him to theconvent, was seen in the little ante-room beyond, speaking with somepersons in rich military dresses, with whose faces St. Real wasunacquainted. The moment he approached, however, one stepped forthfrom the rest, and addressed him by his name.
"I am commanded, Monsieur de St. Real, to greet you on the part of hisHighness the Duke of Mayenne, lieutenant-general of the kingdom, andto inform you that the arrest under which you have suffered, tookplace without either his knowledge or consent, by a mistake on thepart of a body of reitters, who seem to have confounded you in someway with the troops attached to Monsieur de Longueville. I am furtherdirected to conduct you to the presence of his Highness, who willexplain to you more at large how these events have occurred. Your ownattendants and horses are already prepared below: and, if it suitsyour convenience, we will instantly set out."
"At once, if it so please you, sir," replied St. Real. "I am so littleused to imprisonment, that every minute of it is tedious to me."
Proceeding, therefore, to the door of the ante-chamber, at
which stoodone of the Dominican friars, St. Real and his companions were led downto the court, and there mounted their horses. As he was turning hisrein towards the gate, however, his eye fell upon the form of thePrior, standing at an oriel window above; and, raising his hat, hebowed with all becoming reverence. The Prior spread his hands, andgave his blessing in return, adding--"May God bless thee, my son, andgive thee light to see thy way aright!"
On the present occasion, there appeared to be not only dignity, buteven sincerity, in his tone. Nor, indeed, did St. Real doubt thepurity of his intentions throughout; but, in the wars and factionsthat had preceded the time of which we now speak, the young noble had,as we have said, acted the part of a looker-on; and thus he hadlearned many a lesson in the art of appreciating the character of suchmen as Prior Edm? Bourgoin--men who, devotedly sincere themselves intheir attachment to the party they espouse, and convinced by passion'seloquent voice of the justice of their cause, think every meansjustifiable to attain its objects, or to bring over converts to itstenets. St. Real felt sure that the Prior entertained not a doubt ofthe rectitude of his own motives, and the propriety of everything hedid in behalf of the League; but he felt equally sure, that theDominican would think right and just a thousand means and stratagems,to obtain his purposes, which he, St. Real, would look upon as base,dishonourable, and even impious. Whatever end, therefore, had beensought by confining him in the Jacobin convent, the effect had beenanything rather than increased affection for the League; and, as herode away from its gates towards the Hotel de Guise, his onlyreflection was, "Well, if such be the means by which the League issupported, and such the stratagems by which its adherents are gained,I, at least, will not be one of the crowd of fools whereof itsfollowers must be composed."
At the Hotel de Guise a different scene awaited him, and differentmeans of attraction were played off in order to win him to thefaction. All that had passed at the Jacobins had apparently beenminutely reported to Madame de Montpensier; and, with a profoundknowledge of human nature, and a perfect command of art, she at onceread the principal points of St. Real's character, and adapted her ownbehaviour to suit it. The mistakes which she committed, as we shallpresently see, were not from misapprehending the traits of hisdisposition, but from not perceiving their depth.
On alighting from their horses, the young officers who had conductedSt. Real from the Dominican convent, led him at once towards theaudience chamber of the Duke of Mayenne. At the door, however, theywere informed by an attendant that the Duke was busy on matters ofsome deep importance, but that he would be at leisure in a fewminutes. Another attendant then stepped forth to usher him to somewaiting-room; and, ere he was aware of it, St. Real was in thepresence of two beautiful women,--the Duchess of Guise, and theDuchess of Montpensier,--who appeared busy with the ordinary morningoccupations of ladies of that day, and seemed surprised at theintrusion; though it need scarcely be said, that the whole man[oe]uvrehad been conducted upon their own positive orders. The attendant, wholed the young cavalier thither, seemed also surprised to find thatchamber engaged; and, begging St. Real to follow him again, wasretiring, with many profound reverences and apologies to the twoladies, when Madame de Montpensier demanded the gentleman's name; and,glancing her eye over his person, with a smile not at all unnatural,added, before the man could answer, that, as all the other chamberswere occupied, the stranger might, if he so pleased, remain there tillher brother was disengaged, as he did not seem so ferocious a personas to make war upon a bevy of women, though Henry of Valois had shownthat even the sacred robe of the church was sometimes no protection.
St. Real's name was then given by the attendant; who, without furtherquestion, retired, leaving the young cavalier to play his part withthe two artful women in whose society he was placed, as best he might.The Marquis, however, did not play that part ill. Graceful by natureand by education, his manners were embarrassed by no kind ofbashfulness; for although his acquaintance with society was butlimited, yet there were two feelings in his bosom which gave him everperfect self-possession without presumption. The first of thesefeelings was a slight touch of the pride of birth, which taught him,when in company with the high or the proud, never to forget that hewas himself sprung from the noblest of the land; the second, was theconsciousness of perfect rectitude in every thought, feeling, andpurpose. Besides all this, the St. Reals had been, as I have said,from age to age, a chivalrous race; and their representative hadstrong in his own bosom that species of chivalrous gallantry, whichmade him look upon woman's weakness as a constant, undeniable claim todeference, to courtesy, and to those small attentions, which givegreater pleasure very often than even greater services.
Madame de Montpensier was surprised and pleased; and the Duchess deGuise, perhaps, inwardly determined to add St. Real to her train ofadmirers. At all events, both bent their efforts, in the first place,to gain him for the League; and the sister of the haughty house ofLorraine pursued her plan with the calm and steady purpose of a greatdiplomatist. In her communion with the young Marquis, she scrupulouslyavoided aught of coquetry--she suffered not a touch even of levity tobe apparent in her manner--she put a guard upon her tongue and uponher eyes, and suffered not even an idle jest to pass those lips withwhich such things were so familiar. At first, affecting even a degreeof distant coldness, she suffered the softer and more blandishingmanners of the Duchess of Guise to smooth away all the difficulties ofan accidental introduction; and then, as the conversation proceeded,she affected to become more interested, spoke wisely and cautiously,and assumed the tone of virtue and deep feeling, which she knew wouldharmonise with his principles; though, if all tales be true, that tonewas the most difficult for her to affect.
She soon contrived to discover a fact, of which she seemed to beignorant till St. Real told her; namely, that he was the cousin of theCount d'Aubin; and then, acting upon one of those vague intuitions,which women are occasionally gifted with in regard to matters of theheart, she turned the conversation suddenly and abruptly toMademoiselle de Menancourt, and the subject of her detention in Paris.St. Real was taken by surprise: there had been some warring in hisbosom too, of late, in regard to the fair girl, who had been thecompanion of his early youth: it was the only point on which histhoughts were not as free and light as the sunshine on the waters;and, at the name of Eugenie de Menancourt, so suddenly pronounced, theblood mounted for a moment into his cheek, and glowed upon his brow.
Madame de Montpensier saw, without seeming to see; and instantlyunderstood the whole: but she fancied even more than she understood.Even though the purity of St. Real's nature forced itself upon herconviction, the evil and subtlety of her own character affected theimpression which his left upon her mind, and changed it from itsnatural appearance. It was like a beautiful face seen in a badmirror--the traits the same, and yet the aspect changed. She fanciedthat she saw in the feelings of St. Real towards Eugenie de Menancourtthe secret of his hesitation between the League and the Royalists:not, indeed, that she believed that he wished to bargain for hisservices, as so many had done, or that he designed to attempt todeprive his cousin of the hand of her he loved; but she imagined thatsecret, and perhaps unconscious, hopes of some fortuitouscircumstance, proving favourable to his wishes, might be the cause ofa lingering tendency towards the party who could bestow the hand ofEugenie de Menancourt, when his political feelings led him to supportthe royal cause. Upon these suppositions she shaped her plans, andproceeded to speak of the young heiress with all the tenderness andconsideration of a sister. She commiserated her situation, shesaid,--promised by her father to a man that she could not love, andthen left an orphan in the midst of such troublous times. It washappy, indeed, she added, that the young lady had fallen into thehands of one in every respect so noble and considerate as the Duke ofMayenne; for Monsieur d'Aubin must, by this time, have learned, thatthe lieutenant-general, endeavouring to exercise his power for thehappiness of all, would not suffer any restraint to be put upon theinclination of Mademoiselle de Menancourt, but would best
ow her handupon any one that she could really love, provided his rank andstation, presented no invincible obstacles.
St. Real was, for a moment, silent; but he at length replied, that hecould not conceive upon what ground Mademoiselle de Menancourt'spresent objections to a union with the Count d'Aubin could be founded.During her father's lifetime, he said, she had not apparently opposedthe alliance; and, as far as he had heard, D'Aubin had given her nonew cause of offence.
The subject was one on which St. Real found it difficult to speak,not from any feelings he might experience towards Eugenie deMenancourt--for, by a strong sense of honour, and a great command overhis own mind, he crushed all sensations of the kind as soon as hefound them rising in his breast,--but his difficulty proceeded from aconsciousness that D'Aubin was to blame, and from a wish to say asmuch as possible in favour of his cousin, without deviating from thatrigid adherence to truth, which was the constant principle of hisheart. What he said was true, indeed. Eugenie de Menancourt hadevinced no strenuous opposition to the proposed alliance, so long asher father lived; and yet it was during his lifetime that St. Real hadprincipally remarked those errors in the conduct of his cousin whichhe thought most calculated to give offence to that cousin's futurebride. He did, therefore, wonder what new motive had given such suddenand strong determination to one whom he had always remarked as gentleand complying; and, although he doubted not he should find Eugenie inthe right, he did long to hear from her own lips the reasons uponwhich her conduct was founded.
Madame de Montpensier remarked the restraint under which he spoke, butattributed it to wrong motives, and shaped her answer accordingly."Perhaps," she said, with a significant smile, "Mademoiselle deMenancourt may have perceived that there are other people, more worthyof her heart; and, as soon as she finds that her duty to her father nolonger requires obedience, she may yield to her own inclinations,especially where she finds they are supported by reason."
"I do not think that, madam," replied St. Real. "I do not thinkEugenie de Menancourt is one to love easily; though, where she didlove, she would love deeply."
There was a degree of simplicity and unconsciousness in this reply,that somewhat puzzled Madame de Montpensier, and put her calculationsat fault. She did not choose to let the subject drop, however; and shereplied--"You seem to know this young lady well, Monsieur de St. Real:have you been long acquainted?"
"I know her as if she were my own sister," replied St. Real. "We havebeen acquainted since our infancy; and, indeed, we are distantlyrelated to each other."
"Not within the forbidden degrees, I hope?" said the Duchess or Guise,with a smile.
"She will scare the bird from the trap with her broad jests!" thoughtthe more cautious Catherine de Montpensier, as she saw the colour comeup again to St. Real's cheek; but he replied, with his usualstraightforward simplicity, "I really do not know, madam: I neverconsidered the matter; but the relationship is, I trust, sufficientlynear to justify me in asking his Highness of Mayenne to grant me aninterview with Mademoiselle de Menancourt, as I wish to see whether Icannot remove any false impression she may have formed of my cousin,and induce her to fulfil an engagement on which his happinessdepends."
Madame de Montpensier gave a sharp eager glance towards the Duchess ofGuise, to prevent her from pressing St. Real too hard; and she herselfreplied, "My brother will doubtless grant you the interview, Monsieurde St. Real; but I am afraid you will be unsuccessful. One thing,however, you may be sure of, that Mayenne himself will in no degreepress Mademoiselle de Menancourt to such a union, for he is fullyconvinced that her objections are but too well founded: and although,perhaps, the party that we espouse might be benefited by holding outto your cousin the prospect of our support in this matter, yet it canin no degree be granted, unless some great change takes place in thefeelings of Mademoiselle de Menancourt herself."
As St. Real was about to reply, an attendant again appeared, andannounced that Mayenne was, for a few moments, free from those weightyaffairs with which the situation of his party overwhelmed him. Theyoung Marquis rose to obey the summons: but Madame de Montpensier wasnot at all inclined to abandon her unconcluded schemes to the chancesof a private interview between her more candid brother and the objectof her wiles. That which had at first been the mere desire of gaininga powerful acquisition to her party, and of depriving the Royalists ofa strong support, had now become, under the opposition anddifficulties she had met with, the eager struggle of compromisedvanity. Her reputation for skill and policy were even dearer to her,at that moment, than her reputation for beauty and wit had ever been;and, at the mere apprehension of missing her stroke in a matter whereshe had risked so much, and employed such means, she called up beforethe eyes of imagination the calm, half-sneering smile with whichMayenne would mark her failure, and the galling compassion with whichall her dear friends and favourite counsellors would commiserate herdisappointment.
"I have a petition too to present to my all-powerful brother," shesaid, rising at the same time; "and, therefore, with your good leave,Monsieur de St. Real, I will accompany you to his high and mightypresence." St. Real, perhaps, would have preferred to see Mayennealone, but no choice was left him; and, offering his hand, he led herthrough the long galleries and corridors of the Hotel de Guise to theaudience-chamber of the lieutenant-general.