CHAPTER XIV.
The small evils of life, against which, in the narrowness of ourviews, and the idleness of our heart, we so often pray, as if theywere as hideous as unmasked sin, how often do they work for us thegreatest benefits in ways we never dreamt of!--how often do they evenforward us in the very course they seemed likely to obstruct! There isnot a hair of our head that is not numbered; there is not a sparrowfalls to the ground unmarked; so we were told by Him who is Truth; andsurely there is not an act or incident of our life that has not itsend and object in the great scheme of our being, and in the greaterscheme of universal nature. Pleasant is it, and sweet to contemplate,for the eye of faith, that all is ruled and directed to its fixedpurpose by Almighty wisdom, and infinite goodness.
"He is gone!" whispered De Montigni to Rose d'Albret, as Chazeulstrode away. "You see it is fortunate, dear girl, that we did not findthe sally port open, or we should have been passing just at the momenthe was upon the walls above. He could not have stayed us, it is true,for we have a large party in the castle; but it might have occasionedstrife, and that I would fain avoid."
"Oh yes, yes!" said Rose. "God grant that we may escape that,--buthark! it is raining, Louis."
"That is unlucky," replied De Montigni. Yet, in truth, it was far fromunfortunate for the success of their scheme. The large drops whichbegan to descend in a heavy shower, soon changed the purpose ofNicholas de Chazeul, who was lightly clothed, and somewhat careful ofhis own person; and instead of seeking Estoc, as he had intended, hehurried back to his own chamber, cast off his wet clothes, and retiredto bed, keeping his indignation for the following morning.
In the meanwhile Louis de Montigni and Rose d'Albret, remained forsome minutes longer under the archway; and, although apprehension andanxiety had a large share in the fair Lady's feelings, it must not bedenied, that there were sweet and happy sensations too. With her armtwined through that of her lover, with her hand clasped in his, shefelt all the joy, the thrilling and inexpressible joy of loving,trusting, confiding; and she felt it too for the first time. All thefreshness of the young heart was there; that freshness which in allthings is the point of perfection,--the moment of expansion to theflower; the hour of ripeness to the fruit, when colour, and beauty,and scent, and flavour, and delight, are all at their full before onepetal has fallen or withered, before one tint has faded, before thebloom has been brushed off, before the enjoyment has palled, or thefine edge of sensation has been blunted. There are feelings in thehuman heart, and they are the brightest of those which have anyreference to earth, which are like those small delicate flies, thatlive but an hour in their beauty, and then pass away, unable tosustain even the weight of the common air; and with Rose d'Albret thatwas the moment of their existence. She had never before known what itwas to give the whole heart, to cling to another, as if in him she hada second life; to look to him for all her future joy; to trust in himfor aid, protection and support; to fear for him more than forherself; to believe, her best gift, was to render him happy. The worldin which she had lived, was a cold and dreary one; there had been noheart which had sympathies with hers; no voice to reciprocate kindwords; no mind with which to exchange the thoughts that were busy inher own. All who surrounded her were different from her in years, inideas, in feelings, in objects. It was a dark and shadowy state ofbeing, whose only light had been memory, memory of him who now stoodbeside her till he himself had returned, like her morning star, andthe day of love had dawned upon her heart, driving the shades away,and gilding even the clouds, that still hung over the sky.
Thus, though dread and apprehension still had some share in herfeelings, poor Rose d'Albret was not now without a bright portion ofhappiness; and the gentle pressure of the hand, the mute caress, theword of tenderness and comfort from her lover's lips, producedsensations in her bosom which he did not know, which, perhaps mannever fully knows, in his dealings with woman.
At length there came a hurried tread, as if more than one person wereapproaching, and De Montigni took a step forward before his faircompanion, and loosened his sword in the scabbard. The rain wasfalling heavily; the night had become doubly dark; and he could onlydistinguish the forms of two men advancing quickly along the_coulisse_, without being able to discover who they were. One hethought indeed was Estoc, but he was not sure, till at length the manon the right hand paused opposite the sally port, and appeared tounlock the door, while the other came on towards the spot where hestood.
"It is Estoc, dear Rose," he said; "it is Estoc with the keys."
"Be sure, be sure!" whispered Rose, laying hand upon his arm; but thenext instant Estoc himself stood before them, saying, "Quick, Louis!quick! there are more people stirring in the ch?teau than we wot of."
"Chazeul was on the walls but a moment ago," replied De Montigni, "butthe sentinel would not let him pass."
"I know, I know," replied Estoc. "I heard it all, but the rain hasdriven him in, the white-livered knave.--You will get sadly wet, sweetlady, I fear."
"Oh, I mind not a little rain," replied Rose d'Albret. "How often haveyou seen me drenched in hunting! Estoc; and it will not hurt me morenow, that I am being hunted,--but what was the cause of the delay?"
"They had given the man the wrong key," replied Estoc, "and he knewnot how to get the right one, without betraying that there wassomething secret going on,--the door is open now, however. Let us bequick.--Hark! there is two!--Moments are precious."
"I am quite ready," said Rose; but De Montigni, before he suffered herto issue forth into the rain, covered her as well as he could with hiscloak, though the short mantles of those days, afforded but a veryinefficient protection against a heavy shower. They then crossed thepassage, and gliding along under the wall, found the door of the sallyport open, and the guard holding it back.
"Ged bless you, Lady! God bless you, Sir," said the man as theypassed. And the prayer of a plain and honest heart for our welfare,has always its effect in comforting, and reassuring.
Estoc led the way, along the stone-faced court, under the earthenmound, which there defended the wall, across a little bridge over theditch, and through the gate beyond, which he unlocked to let thempass. Beneath the shadow of the gate, and three or four old trees,which grew beside it, stood a party of seven or eight men, with theirhands upon their horses' bridles, ready to mount in a moment. Twoother saddled horses were amongst them, and while De Montigni liftedRose d'Albret lightly from the ground, and mounted her securely, oldEstoc said, in a low voice, "It is your own limousin, Mademoiselle, soyou know his mouth, and he knows your hand."
"Thank you, thank you for your kindness, Estoc," replied the lady;"these are moments never to be forgotten."
De Montigni pressed the old soldier in his arms; and then saying, "Weshall meet again soon, Estoc, I hope in the King's camp," he sprangupon his horse's back, and laying his hand upon Rose's rein, to leadher forward through the darkness, set out upon the road to Dreux.
Estoc turned back into the castle, closed the gates behind him, made aturn upon the ramparts, listened for a few minutes till he could hearno more the retreating sound of horses' feet, and then retiring to theguard-room, under the principal gate, dried himself by the blazinglogs upon the hearth. In a few minutes, however, he gave some ordersto one of the soldiers, who was sitting near, and then stretchinghimself upon a camp bedstead in the corner, was soon sound asleep.
Everything remained quiet in the ch?teau during the night. Unconsciousof what had taken place, those whose cunning schemes had beenfrustrated, remained in the tranquil slumber of imaginary success,dreaming of the coming day, and of seeing the seal put upon theirintrigues by the voluntary renunciation of De Montigni's right,through which, not only the much coveted estates of Liancourt, but thehand of Rose d'Albret, and the inheritance which that hand conveyed,were, they thought, to be lost to him, for whom they were originallyintended.
The only person who slept but little, was the old commander DeLiancourt, who, partly on account of the pain of his wounds, andpart
ly from anxiety for his nephew's safety and success, lay tossingon his bed till within an hour of morning, wondering if all had goneright, and repeating, a thousand and a thousand times, "All is quiet!They must have got off; otherwise, I should have heard something."
With the first dawn of day, some of the inferior servants began tostir in the house. The scullions proceeded to their abhorred task ofscouring the brazen pots and kettles in the kitchen; the turnspit dogwaddled slowly from the hearth, the scene of his daily toil, where hefound warmth and repose during the night, to hide himself in somecorner from the eyes of the persecuting cook; and various otherdrudges, well called _femmes de peine_, went through the differenthalls and chambers, clearing off that dust which rise from the decayof every earthly thing, and falls every hour--a memento, if we wouldbut see it, of the perishable nature of all here below--upon thepolish and the gilding with which we seek to cover all the coarsematerials from our eyes.
Soon the higher functionaries began to appear upon the scene; cooks,and grooms of the chambers, and all the officers and attendants who,in those days, thronged the house of a French nobleman; and then themasters themselves. First, came father Walter, in his black garments,pacing up and down the hall, and gazing, from time to time, out of thehigh windows at the rainy sky. He was soon joined by Monsieur deChazeul, followed, shortly after, by the Count de Liancourt. Thesethree continued, stretching their limbs by a walk up and down the widepavement, for near half an hour, conversing over all that had takenplace the day before, and speculating upon the coming event. Chazeulrelated to his two companions the intelligence he had received fromBlanchette on the preceding night, and the application which DeMontigni had made for another interview with Rose d'Albret.
"That was not right," said Monsieur de Liancourt. "One interview wasall he asked; that was granted, and he ought not to have sought more."
How boldly do we judge of what is right and wrong in the conduct ofothers! how boldly do we censure and condemn, very often when we aredoing them the bitterest injustice! Monsieur de Liancourt totallyforgot, when he talked of right, that Louis de Montigni was reallyentitled, not only to one interview with Rose d'Albret, but to everyhour of her time, to her hand, to her heart, to her fortune,--hetotally forgot it, I say, and thought that the schemes which he had solong nurtured, the ideas which he had so long indulged, formed theonly standard by which to measure the conduct and the rights ofothers. Do not let the reader suppose this unnatural. Let him lookaround, he will find the same perversion of views in every country, inevery house, in every family; let him look within, he will find itmore or less in his own heart, whenever his own interests, wishes,prejudices, or passions, are placed in opposition to the rights ofothers.
At length, when about half an hour had passed, the Count began tothink it strange that his fair ward, who was always an early riser,had not yet appeared, and asked if the others had seen anything ofher.
"No," replied Chazeul. "I suppose, as she cannot take her favouritewalk this rainy day, she keeps her own chamber, to be out of the wayof De Montigni."
The priest looked down and mused, for he entertained some doubts as toRose's feelings being exactly those which Chazeul's vanity led him tosuppose, though, it must be remarked, he had not the slightestsuspicion of the event which had just taken place.
"Have you seen Blanchette this morning?" inquired the Count.
"No," replied Chazeul; "but I will send my knave, Alphonso, to seeafter her. It will but be courteous to inquire for her mistress'shealth."
He was turning towards the door, when his mother entered, and asked atonce, "Where is Rose?"
"She has not appeared yet," replied Chazeul. "I am just going toinquire after her, most noble dame."
"See, see yourself, Nicholas," cried the Marchioness, sharply. "One ofmy girls tells me, that, passing by her door just now, she heard aknocking, as if carpenters were at work. Is De Montigni absent, too?Why, it is near the hour of mass!"
Chazeul left the room instantly, by the door which led direct alongthe corridor, to the apartments of Rose d'Albret. All was still,however; the noise which his mother mentioned had ceased; and it wasnot till he came close to the ante-chamber that he thought he heard asound of moaning, as if some one was giving way to the expression ofpain or grief. He instantly knocked at the door, and called toBlanchette, who demanded, in a voice half-drowned by tears, "Who isthere?"
"It is I," replied the Marquis. "What is the matter, Blanchette? Openthe door; let me in."
"I cannot," replied Blanchette; "the door is locked, and I can't getout."
"How is your mistress?" asked Chazeul.
"I do not know," replied the girl.
"Well, go in and see, then," said the Marquis.
"I cannot," rejoined Blanchette again; "that door is fastened too."
A sudden suspicion of the truth flashed through the mind of Chazeul,and he stood for a moment, stupified with surprise and anger. Then,hastening back to the hall, he exclaimed, "Something is wrong! Thegirl Blanchette is locked into her room.--We must force the door."
"To the window! to the window!" replied the Marchioness; and, hurryingout to the flying bridge, they descended the stone steps into the_coulisse_, Monsieur de Liancourt exclaiming,
"Quick! some one bring a ladder."
"There is no ladder needed, my wise brother," said Madame de Chazeul,the moment after, pointing with her hand to the spot where, underneaththe window of Rose's chamber, might still be seen the instrument usedin her escape. "You will find one ready. Those who like to go on inthe rain, and see the nest of the flown bird, may go, I shall returnto the hall." And thus saying, she ascended the steps, while the restof the party hurried on.
By the ladder easy access was obtained to the room of Mademoiselled'Albret; and it is not necessary to detail the state in which it wasfound. Rose, as the reader is aware, was no longer there; and all thatremained for those that sought her, was to liberate Blanchette, andinquire when, how, and why, her mistress had fled.
The girl, however, could tell them nothing of the truth; and, thoughshe made up for the deficiency by telling plenty of falsehoods,endeavouring, in the fear and agitation of the moment, to screenherself from suspicions which were never directed towards her, yet herinformation, of having heard her mistress move in her chamber aboutthree o'clock in the morning, without thinking anything of it, ofhaving visited her the last thing before she went to bed herself, andseeing her soundly asleep in bed, together with sundry other fancifulpieces of intelligence, proved not in the least satisfactory to thehearers.
After much wonder, and some consideration, and a good deal ofexamination in the apartments of Mademoiselle d'Albret, the party wereobliged to make their egress by the window again, the outer door beinglocked and the key gone.
They found Madame de Chazeul in the hall, with an angry spot upon hercheek, and her brow knit, while the old commander, dressed as if for ajourney, with his sword by his side, and the cross of his order roundhis neck, sat upon a bench at one side of the hall, tapping his legdeliberately with his staff.
"I am glad you are come, Count," said the Marchioness; "here is ourbrother Michael evidently knows all about this infamous abduction; buthe will make no answer to my inquiries."
"Why, I told you I would not, Jacqueline, till Liancourt came,"replied the Commander. "Now he is come, I will tell you all I know,and also perform the task I took upon me yesterday."
"Well, Sir, well, be quick," replied the Count. "I have borne yourhumours too long; and I will endure no tricks and treachery, dependupon it."
The old soldier's cheek grew warm. "No tricks but your own, Sir," hereplied. "But we all know you are a tool in the hands of others, andtherefore to be forgiven, like all weak men, who make themselves theinstruments of knaves. Ay, you may stare, Jacqueline; but be goodenough to remember, I was never afraid of those black eyes, even whenthe cheeks were round and soft, and am not more timid now, when theyare shrivelled and skinny. The simple matter of fact is this, Anthony,you have
all laid your heads together to deprive Louis de Montigni,the son of our poor sister Louise, of the inheritance which Irenounced in her favour, and in favour of her children. I did notrenounce it in your favour, Madame Jacqueline; for you were alwaysable to take care of yourself, though Louise was mild and gentle, andconsequently continually kept down, and deprived of just estimation."
"And may I ask, Sir," said Monsieur de Liancourt, with a cold, andhaughty air, "what business it was of yours, if Monsieur de Montignichoose to renounce also?"
"I don't know that," replied the old Commander; "he cannot renouncewithout my returning to my rights. However, I would have made no noiseabout that, if he had done so willingly, and with his eyes open. But Idid not choose to have him deceived, and so I was resolved he shouldknow all. The priest there, like an honest man, told him, that he hadsome right to the estates, and I told him what."
The Marchioness turned a fierce look upon father Walter, who met itwith a calm and tranquil air, apparently in no degree taken bysurprise or annoyed.
"But I told him, moreover, my good brother," continued the Commander,"that if he gave up the estates, he gave up his claim and right to thehand of Mademoiselle d'Albret,--to our sweet Rose. It is right thatevery one should know how he stands, and what he does, brotherAnthony; and as you did not tell him, I did. I told him the contractwas in his favour, not in that of yonder gentleman in ruffs andear-rings, inasmuch as it engaged for the marriage of the young ladyto the heir of Liancourt, which he is by my renunciation; and if hehad given up his claim, I would have married her myself; for then Ishould be heir of Liancourt again. But as I am old, and somewhatbattered in the wars, and should limp a little in following a bridethrough a ballroom, he thought fit to save me the trouble, andconsequently determined to hold his own."
"My son, my son, this is no jesting matter," said father Walter in agrave tone; "I beseech you, what you have to speak, speak seriously."
"If I speak seriously, sir priest," replied the old soldier, "I mayhave to say things not very palatable to many here present. But if itmust be, so it shall be. In a word, then, brother, he found that hehad been deceived, kept in ignorance, cajoled to part with rightsconcealed from him. Had it been but the estates, he would have giventhem up at a word, as I did; but he would not give up her he loved,except at her own request. In this, too, he discovered, he had beencheated. Instead of finding that she had freely and willingly promisedher hand to a man who possessed her heart, he learned that she too hadbeen misled into the belief that she was contracted to yondergentleman, and that she was about, unwillingly, to yield to what shethought duty--poor thing!--without either loving, or having promisedat all."
"But she did promise," exclaimed Chazeul. "I call upon all here towitness it."
"That's a lie!" answered the Commander sternly; "nor the first, goodnephew, by many! She never promised; for only two days ago I heard herask a short time to consider. You cannot deny it, priest."
"I cannot," said father Walter.
"Well then," continued the old officer, "he asked to see her alone, tolearn her own mind--"
"We did not know that he was going thus treacherously--" criedChazeul.
"To tell her the truth," interrupted the Commander; "or you would havetaken care to prevent it. But when he had enlightened her on thosesubjects, and found that she very much preferred himself to you, hesuggested to her that, to save needless trouble, and dispute, it wouldbe better for her to take her departure at once with the husband ofher father's choice, and, placing themselves under the protection ofthe King, demand his sanction to their immediate marriage. Ay, _theKing!_ nephew,--the King, father Walter--Henry the Fourth, King ofFrance and Navarre, who is so, and will be so whether it pleases youor not!--But I forgot," he added, "the boy left a letter with me foryou brother Anthony. Ho! Estoc there, get me that letter, pray."
While this delectable conversation had been proceeding, Madame deChazeul had seated herself in the chair usually occupied by the Count,and, leaning her head upon her hand, had seemed more busied with herown thoughts than with anything that was going on around; but at themention of the letter, she raised her head, with a bitter sneer uponher lip, asking, "Pray whose manufacture is the epistle? Is it anextract from C?sar's Commentaries by the Commander de Liancourt, or aparody upon Ovid's Art of Love by Monsieur de Montigni?"
"Neither, Jacqueline," replied her brother, "but a good honest letter,from a youth whom you have not been able to cheat, with all yourcunning. The letter,--the letter, Estoc," he continued, as his oldcomrade put his head into the hall--Where is Louis's letter? You hadit.
"Oh ay! of course he had it," cried Chazeul, as the good soldieradvanced with a paper in his hand; and then turning round, the Marquiswhispered for an instant to the Count, who, after taking the letterfrom the hands of Estoc, made him a sign to stay.
"You know of all this affair, Sir," said Monsieur de Liancourt, fixinghis eyes upon him, "and gave aid and encouragement."
"I saw them at the last moment," replied Estoc at once, "and had theywanted encouragement would have given it to them; but they did not;and as to aiding them, I had no commands to stop any one quitting thecastle."
"It was your duty, Sir, to stop any fugitives from authority," repliedthe Count; "and I have a great mind to punish you."
"To do that you have no power, Sir," answered Estoc; "you forget I amnot your servant, Count of Liancourt, but a gentleman and a soldier,though a poor one. I have, at the desire of my good old commanderhere, aided you voluntarily to keep your ch?teau in these troubloustimes; but I have taken no wage nor pay from you or yours; and, let metell you, he is a bold man that talks of punishing a French gentlemanthat has done no wrong."
"Come, come, Anthony," cried the Commander, "no folly, if you please.Estoc is my _guidon_; you have nought to do with him. If there befault, it is mine. I aided, I encouraged them; I told them to go, andhelped them to do it; and whoever says I had not a right to do so,lies in his teeth!--But read the letter, brother o'mine; for you mayhave something to say to it; and I am away this morning. My litter andmy men are ready in the court."
"And the sooner you go, Michael, the better," said Madame de Chazeul.
"Not at your bidding, Jacqueline," replied the Commander, while hisbrother opened the letter and read it. "Ay, here comes your creature,Blanchette. On my life, this has been a pretty honest scheme from thebeginning."
"What does he say?" inquired the Marchioness, as the Count read.
"Oh, hear it, hear it!" answered Monsieur de Liancourt: "you will thensee, how grateful he is for all the care and kindness I have bestowedupon his youth;" and he proceeded to read as follows:
"Sir, my Uncle,
"Before this reaches your hands, I shall be far distant, feelingmyself compelled to take a step, which nothing but the desire ofavoiding that strife and contention which must ensue, were I to stayand urge my rights in your house, would induce me to adopt. At thesame time it is necessary, for my own justification, that I shouldgive some explanation of my conduct. You were pleased on my arrival,to ask for my signature to certain papers, which, on examination ofthe documents themselves, and consultation with my uncle, theCommander, and others, I found implied a renunciation of my clearright to the estates of Liancourt, and the acceptance of certainbenefices as an equivalent. Had that been the only question, I wouldnot have scrupled to consent; but I found that by a contract betweenyou and the late Count de Marennes, made while I was consideredcertain heir to those estates, the hand of Mademoiselle d'Albret waspromised to the person inheriting them. You had given me to understandthat the lady's inclination led her to an union with my cousin DeChazeul; and had it been so, my love for her is too sincere, not tohave induced me at once to remove every obstacle that my prior claimproduced. But certain circumstances led me to believe that in thisthere was an error; and I therefore required an interview withMademoiselle d'Albret, that both she and I, might know our realsituation, which, by your pardon, let me say, had been concealed fromboth. I found, d
uring that interview, that she had been deceived intothe belief that, in giving her hand to Monsieur de Chazeul, she wasonly fulfilling her father's contract. When the truth, however, wasexplained to her, I found that, far from desiring such an alliance, itwas most repugnant to her, and that, on the contrary, she was willingto give her hand to him for whom it had been truly destined. We bothsaw, that to urge my rights in person here, would necessarily producestrife--nay, perhaps bloodshed; and we were well aware that it mightbe unsafe for her to remain after I was gone, as there are too manyinstances, in these days, of contracts forcibly violated, andcompulsion used to produce alliances neither prompted by inclinationnor justified by law. The course which had been pursued towards us forthe last five years, led us to apprehend that such might be the casenow; and to avoid such a result, Mademoiselle d'Albret consented toaccompany me to the court of his Majesty; where, under his sanctionand authority, I trust soon to fulfil with her the engagement betweenher father and yourself. As soon as that is accomplished, being inthis matter moved by no sordid considerations, you will not find meindisposed, in gratitude for the care and protection which youbestowed on my early youth, to fulfil your wishes, whatever they maybe, in regard to the disposal of your property, even to the sacrificeof what may be my own contingent rights. May God keep you in his holyguard!
"Your nephew,
"Louis de Montigni."
The latter part of the letter was but little attended to by Madame deChazeul or her son, who were busily talking together in tones so low,that but a word or two only was distinguishable even by the quick earsof the priest, who stood near them.
"Impossible!" said Chazeul, in reply to something which his motherappeared to have suggested: "we have not men enough. He has fifteen ofhis own old soldiers here; and a number of the men of Liancourt wouldtake his part. I have but seven in the castle.--No, it is impossible."
The Countess muttered something in return, and then added, "Stay,Chazeul: a better plan!" She then whispered a word or two, whichescaped all ears but those of her son, adding, "You see to it: bid himcome back at full speed when he has seen them housed. Send notice toNemours, too, and Mayenne; so you will have them in a net. In themeantime, stop this farce as soon as possible. I have a word or two tosay to another personage:--Good father, I would fain speak with you,"she continued aloud, addressing Walter de la Tremblade, "either beforeor after mass."
"Which you please, daughter," replied Walter de la Tremblade; "we havestill half an hour."
"That will be enough," answered the Marchioness, rising: "and so,good-day, good brother Michael. Like all fools who meddle with whatdoes not concern them, you will one day rue the mischief that you havenow made."
"Never, Jacqueline," replied the Commander. "I am not so famous forscheming as you are; but, be you sure that, whatever you may be nowplotting, I will find means to put it out of joint with plain honestyand truth, as I have done to-day. Farewell, brother Anthony," hecontinued; "let us not part bad friends; for what I have done, hasbeen as much to save your honour as anything else."
He held out his hand as he spoke; but the Count put his behind hisback, saying, "My honour can take care of itself, Michael; and I donot thank you for this insolent meddling."
"Poor man," said the Commander; and, turning abruptly away, he strodeout of the hall, followed by Estoc.