CHAPTER XV.
There are dull pauses in human life when the mind, however anxious itmay be to speed forward upon its active career, is forced bycircumstances to halt and deal with minor things; as a traveller onfoot, however eager he may be to hasten forward upon his way, issometimes obliged to stop and take a small stone out of his shoe, lestit should impede the whole after part of his journey: and thus, thoughwe would willingly go on with those in whom we are more interested, wemust linger for a moment or two with the priest and Madame de Chazeul,in order to proceed more rapidly when we have related some thingswhich, though not very entertaining, are absolutely necessary to theright understanding of this history.
The lady led the way to her own chamber, with a step she intended tobe perfectly calm and tranquil, but which, by its occasionalirregularity and sharp jerking movement, betrayed the agitated andangry feelings which she struggled to conceal. The priest followed,with his still, even pace, his large dark eyes as usual bent down, andnot a trace of any emotion upon his countenance. He seemed, indeed,like a moving statue, to the countenance of which the sculptor hadsuccessfully endeavoured to give an expression of great thought, ofmind, and equanimity, but not of feeling or emotion.
When they reached the lady's chamber, the Marchioness de Chazeul tooka seat, and pointed to another, with a somewhat haughty wave of thehand; but father Walter sat down deliberately, and crossing one footover the other, remained in an easy attitude waiting for Madame deChazeul to begin, as if totally unconscious that there were any angryfeelings in her bosom towards himself. He made no inquiry, even by alook, in regard to the nature of the communication which he was aboutto receive, but calmly bent his head a little forward as if to listen,and waited for her to begin.
"Well, Monsieur de la Tremblade," said the lady at length, "so youhave thought fit to commence this system of sweet candour towardsMonsieur de Montigni, and to tell him that he has a right to theestates."
"I always advocated candour, Madam," replied the priest; "and if myadvice had been followed, and the exact state of the case had beentold him in Italy, with a request that he would remove all obstacles,he would have remained where he was, and you would not have been insuch an unpleasant situation at present."
"And therefore, I suppose, because people judged differently fromyourself," said the Marchioness, "you thought fit to spoil theirplans, when yours were not adopted."
"Not exactly," answered father Walter, perfectly unmoved; "I onlyacted as was right and fitting on the occasion, I betrayed no secrets,lady; I gave no further information than was merely necessary toinduce this young gentleman to do what was required of him. The veryact of renunciation itself bore upon its face, the acknowledgment thathe had rights; and I did not in any degree define them, but merelysaid, that it was necessary he should sign the papers, to guardagainst any legal contest hereafter."
"Pshaw!" cried Madame de Chazeul; "do you think I do not see yourmotives, Walter de la Tremblade? You would fain have so managed, thatthe greater part of the benefices, if not the whole, should fall intoyour hands. You were not content with the Abbey of Chizay--not you!You must have more: and now a fine business you have made of it, foryou have lost all to yourself and to us too."
The slightest possible glow passed over the cheek of Walter de laTremblade; but he replied, without the least alteration of tone, "Youare wrong in your suspicions, daughter; and they are unworthy of youor me."
"Quite worthy of me," replied the Marchioness, "for I like to see tothe bottom of men's hearts. Now, I will answer for it, you persuadedhim that it was very improper for laymen to hold the property of thechurch; you showed him, that he could not conscientiously keep thesebenefices, if he got them, without taking the gown. Ha! have I touchedyou? can you deny it, Sir?"
"Entirely," replied father Walter. "He stated such objections himself;and it was not for me to argue against my conscience. I told him,however, that it was a constant practice in France for men, notecclesiastics, to hold such benefices. The objections were his, notmine, though how you came to learn they were ever made, I know not, ashis conduct turned upon very different feelings."
"How I came to learn!" exclaimed the Marchioness, with a scornfulsmile; "because I know you both right well--by no other means, goodfather. Oh! I understand the whole. Think you I have lived for fiftyyears, with my eyes open, in this busy world, and do not know how acalm, quiet priest, by a few soft, half-whispered words, can instildoubts, and insinuate his own views into the mind of a weak-heartedyouth; how by a look, or even a faint denial of that which he seeksmost strongly to impress, he can produce the effect desired, whenseeming to oppose it."
"Madam, you are very learned in such arts," replied father Walter,with a slight sarcastic curl of the lip.
"I am," answered the Marchioness, boldly, "and I know that fatherWalter can make use of them as well as others. But there is such athing as overreaching one's self, Sir; and methinks you have done soin this instance."
"Not in the least, daughter," replied the Priest. "I am quitecontented, if you are."
"But I am not!" cried the Marchioness, vehemently, "and I will have nomore of this. You think the game is lost; and, therefore, with thecunning of your cloth, you bear it tranquilly. I know that it is notso hopeless as you imagine; and for that reason I take the trouble oftelling you, that if I recover the false steps taken, I will not befrustrated by you."
She spoke angrily and haughtily; and then, as if feeling that she hadgiven too much way to passion, she rose, went to the window, gazed outfor a moment, and played with the embroidery on her dress. FatherWalter in the meanwhile remained calm and silent: not thatthought--ay, and even passion, were less busy in his own bosom than inhers; but he was more habituated to command his own sensations, and tokeep them, like those undercurrents of the sea which carry ships farastray without producing a ripple on the surface, from showing, by anyoutward sign, the course in which they were bent.
At length, the Marchioness returned, with a smoother brow and moreplacable look. "Come, father Walter," she said, "we must not quarrel;we are needful to each other. Let us act together, and, depend uponit, the interests of both will be better served by so doing, than ifeach pursued a course apart."
"I deny that I have ever acted otherwise, daughter," replied thePriest. "I am glad to hear you have hopes of retrieving what has gonewrong; and I will aid you to the very utmost of my power, not only towrest from Monsieur de Montigni the estates of Liancourt, but also tounite Mademoiselle d'Albret to your son. There are a few things that Iwould not undertake to accomplish this; but not from the motives youimagine,--from very, very different reasons."
"What may they be?" inquired the Marchioness; "if you promote myviews, boldly and unhesitatingly, and I can aid yours, I will, withoutscruple. What may they be, good father?"
"Listen, then, daughter," replied the Priest. "To an ecclesiastic ofthe Holy Roman Catholic Church, there are objects far higher, farnearer to his heart than any interests of his own. Indeed, rightlyspeaking, we should have no interest but one, though human weaknesswill occasionally have its share. When we enter into that body towhich I belong, we lose our identity, we become but part of a greatwhole, we merge all our own passions, hopes, wishes, desires, all ourpersonal feelings and views, in those of the church, and for herinterests, as the highest object at which we can aim, we are justifiedin taking means, and performing acts, which we should considerculpable, were they undertaken for any individual end."
"Well, father," said the Marchioness, as he paused, "to what does thistend?"
"To a very important point, daughter," replied the Priest. "This youngman, this De Montigni, boldly and straightforwardly acknowledges theheretic, Henry de Bourbon, as King of France. 'Tis but the day beforeyesterday, that, for the deliverance of the heretic named Chasseron, aman who, I hear, made himself bitterly obnoxious during what is calledthe Lover's War, he charged and put to death several good Catholics ofthe League. One of them was brought in here severely wounded, and Ic
onfessed him last night before his death. The youth is, even now,gone to join his heretic monarch, excommunicated by the head of theChristian church, and deprived by him of all right and title to theallegiance of any but heretics like himself. Think you, lady, that apriest of the true religion would willingly see estates and power inthe hands of such a one? No, daughter, no; and I believe that anyscheme would be justifiable to deprive him of the means of injuringthe church, of upholding heretics and infidels, and of overthrowingall true religion in this realm. It is with great difficulty I havekept your brother--whose wavering weakness in such things I need nottell you--from acknowledging Henry of Bourbon; and, if his heir goesover to that side, all my pains are lost. It has been for these causesthat I have joined heart and hand in endeavouring to bring about themarriage between Mademoiselle d'Albret and Monsieur de Chazeul, one ofthe brightest ornaments of the Holy Catholic Union; and you have doneme great wrong in supposing that any private interest, whatsoever,would induce me to risk, even by a word, the great object I have inview."
"Perhaps I have," replied the Marchioness; "but yet, father, it wasimprudent to let this youth know that he had any rights."
"Not at all," replied the Priest, somewhat sternly. "That fact couldnot be concealed. The very papers showed it, and the attempt to keepit back naturally produced suspicion and inquiry. If others had playedtheir part as well as I did, and had watched carefully to prevent allcommunication between your brother Michael and his nephew, till DeMontigni had signed, no harm would have arisen; but my advice was illfollowed; they were suffered to meet in private--how, and when, I knownot; but five minutes was sufficient to do all the mischief. And nowit is necessary that I should know what you are about to do--what areyour hopes of retrieving this affair--and what scheme is to befollowed for the future."
"What would you advise yourself, father?" inquired the lady, willingto test his sincerity.
"Methinks," answered the Priest, "there is but one course to be taken.Lose not a moment longer in vain deliberation, surprise, andrecrimination, but raise all the men of Liancourt, and send them outto overtake this runaway ward. A thousand things may occur to stopher. Dispatch messengers to Mayenne, Nemours, Aumale, with informationof the circumstances. Tell them to cut her off from the King's campand send her back. Once here, we will find means to deal with her.This is your only chance; but a clue to her course may be gained bythe road which the old Commander follows. Be you sure that he is goingto join them; and it is even not improbable, that they are waiting forhim, at no great distance."
"Give me your hand, father Walter," cried the Marchioness. "All thatyou propose is already ordered; and, if we succeed by your assistance,not only Chizay, but another abbey, richer still, shall show ourgratitude--"
The priest waved his hand, and she added, with a smile, "to enable youto promote the true interests of the Roman Catholic religion."
Father Walter was about to reply; but at that moment one of theMarchioness's women entered the room, saying, "Madam, here areTheodore and one of the men you sent back to Chazeul, who wish tospeak with you directly."
Her mistress made her a sign to be silent, and father Walter,observing her gesture, took his leave and retired.