CHAPTER XXVII.
As nature in the colours with which her beautifying hand has adornedthe creation, for the glory of God, and the delight of his creatures,has far excelled in richness, and brightness, and variety of hues, allthat the art of man can produce, merely leaving to his vain effortsthe task of falsely imitating her; so does she, in the real course ofevents, far exceed in the marvellous and extraordinary, anything thatimagination can conceive. The boundless springs of human passions andprejudices; the endless variety of human character; the infinitecombinations which man and circumstances may afford, are every dayoffering more wonderful and striking scenes than the boldest poetwould venture to display. There is not a house in the land but has itstragedy to tell; there is not a chamber that has not been stained bybitter and passionate tears; there is hardly one human heart that hasnot within itself its own tale of romance. But as it is the object ofthis history, but to depict events very ordinary in the days to whichit relates--and as it is, indeed, the object of its author in all hisworks, to keep to calm and quiet probabilities, in order, if possible,to cure his fellow countrymen of that longing for over excitement,that moral gin-drinking which has become a vice amongst us, and teachthem that there may be both pleasure and health in less stimulatingbeverages; he is anxious to explain every event as it took place, andto leave nothing to the charge of the marvellous.
The reader has already inquired, how happened it, that Helen de laTremblade, after taking the firm resolution of doing that which,though bitterly painful to her own feelings, she considered a duty tothose who had shown her kindness and tenderness in her moment ofdistress, did not present herself before her uncle, on the first nightof his solitary watching by the corpse of the old commander, DeLiancourt;--and, had I been reading the work, instead of writing it, Ishould have asked the same question too. The answer is very simple,but it requires some detail.
On the day following the battle of Ivry, hasty preparations were madefor conveying the body of the dead leader to Marzay. All those sad andsolemn preparations which are required by custom in consigning themortal dust to the earth from which it came: the coffin, the bier, andthe shroud, were to be made ready; and, whatever diligence wasemployed, it was known that all this could not be complete beforeevening. The soldiers who had followed the old leader to the field,determined to take their turns in carrying him back to his last home;and Helen, as has been said, resolved to accompany them; but still,during the day, she showed some signs, as it seemed to Estoc, ofirresolution and doubt, and the good old warrior determined to speak aword to her, for the purpose of removing her hesitation. She had notquitted for more than a few brief moments the chamber of the dead man,and the attachment which she displayed to even the inanimate remainsof his dead friend, deeply touched the heart of one who, for years,had evinced towards the good old knight, that strong and pertinaciouslove, so often found in the one-affectioned dog, so rarely inmany-motived man. Even had he not promised, he would still have been afather to the poor girl, on account of her devotion to one who hadbeen a father to him; and, as he entered the chamber where she sat, hestrove to smooth his somewhat rough tone, in order to speak to hertenderly.
"Come, young lady," he said, "you had better really go into the halland take some refreshment. We must all die, old and young; and, as thegamblers say, every year that goes makes the odds stronger against us;so there is no use sitting here, pining by yourself, and I hope weshall be able to march in a couple of hours."
"So soon!" asked Helen.
"Ay," answered Estoc, "the sooner it is all over, the better, my dear.I know it is painful to you to fulfil your promise, but I don't thinkyou will shrink from it."
"Oh! it is not that," cried Helen de la Tremblade; "my mind is madeup; and if it kill me, I will do it. But I did not want to go justyet, for the first person who was kind to me, and took compassion uponme, promised to come or send after the battle was over. He will thinkme ungrateful if I go, without waiting to see him; and yet who cantell whether he be dead or alive? I am sure he is not a man to shrinkfrom any danger, but rather to seek it; for the kindest-hearted arealways the bravest."
"That's very true," exclaimed Estoc. "I have marked that through astruggle of fifty-four years with this good world.--But what is hisname, young lady? We have had accounts this morning of all the greatmen killed and the wounded; so I can tell you if he be amongst them."
"Oh, he is a man of no great rank," answered Helen. "A very poorFrench gentleman, he told me: his name is Chasseron."
"Oh, he is quite safe and well," answered Estoc, with a smile; "I knowhim a little, too. But Monsieur de Chasseron is a very busy man, andhas many things upon his hands, just now. He is at Mantes with theKing, or at Rosni, some say. I wish to heaven I could see him myself,"he continued, "for I think if he heard that Monsieur de Montigni andMademoiselle Rose had been taken by the enemy, he might give us somehelp."
"Can I not go to him at Mantes?" cried Helen; "I could tell him all,and be back very soon."
Estoc paused, and thought. "Not before we set out," he replied. "It'salong way to Mantes, my dear. If you do, you must join us by the way.But how am I to get you thither, and back again?"
"Oh, I am a poor friendless creature," cried Helen de la Tremblade,"it matters not what becomes of me. I do not think any one wouldinjure me, but that cruel woman; and she is far away."
"No, you are not friendless," exclaimed Estoc warmly; "and never shallbe while I live. No, I cannot let you go alone; but I can send two ofmy old fellows with you, who will take care that no one does youwrong. Perhaps there may be some bands too going down, and if I couldfind any stout old leader whom I know, he would take care of you. Iwill go up to the village and see; for it would be a great thing,indeed, if you could let Monsieur de Chasseron know all that hashappened.--He might help us--he might help us, though I don't know ifhe has the power."
"I am sure he will if he can," cried Helen; "for he has a kind andgenerous heart, as I have good cause to say."
"Well, I will go, I will go," replied Estoc. "At all events, you shallhave two men to go with you. Old Jaunaye and Longeau, they shall bethe men. They are of the good old stuff, out of which we used to makesoldiers in my young days; none of the coxcombs that we have atpresent. But, you get ready to go, and I will be back in half an hour.My horse is saddled at the door."
Thus saying, he departed, and, in less time than he had mentioned,returned, with an eager air, exclaiming, "Quick, quick, MademoiselleHelen; here is the band of the old Count de Ligones, just marchingthis moment, and you can easily come up with them. I saw him and toldhim, and he says he will take care of you. But you shall have Jaunayeand the Longeau, to bring you across to us to-morrow. You can easilycatch us up, either at Tremblaye, or Ch?teauneuf, for we must needs goslow. The men are ready."
"And so am I," answered Helen, "but how am I to find Monsieur deChasseron in all the bustle and confusion of the court?"
"True," said Estoc, thoughtfully; "you may have some trouble. I willtell you what," he continued; "here, write down upon a piece of paperthe gentleman's name, and send it into Monsieur de Biron. He is an oldfriend of Chasseron's, I think, and will bring him to you."
Pen and ink were soon procured, the name written down, and Helende la Tremblade covering herself with the thick veil which Rosed'Albret had left behind--for she herself had been driven forth allunprepared--went out, and with the assistance of Estoc, mounted apillion behind one of the men. After riding for about three miles,they overtook the band of the Count de Ligones, an old soldier of nearseventy years of age. He was hearty and gay, however, and would fainhave entertained his fair companion for the rest of the way, with manya jest, and many a tale; but Helen, as the reader may suppose,remained grave and sad, answering his questions by a monosyllable, andlistening to his jokes without reply.
"You seem very silent, Mademoiselle," said the old gentleman, atlength; "I am afraid some misfortune has happened to you."
"I have lost a kind and generous friend in this
last battle," criedHelen de la Tremblade, "and have no heart to speak."
"Ah! poor thing," said the old man. "You are not a soldier to bearthese things lightly. We learn to weep for a friend one half hour, andto laugh the next. When a man holds life by the tenure of a straw, hesoon gets to look upon the loss of it by others, as a matter of littlemoment. Yet here I am, have reached seventy years of age, and havebeen in twelve stricken battles, with at least a skirmish every weekfor this last thirty years, and never got but one scratch upon theface: yet I have seen many a blooming boy swept away in his very firstfight."
Thus he continued talking on, during the whole way, till they reachedthe woods, which, at that time, skirted the banks of the Seine; and,giving his men orders to halt at one of the neighbouring villages, herode on with Helen and her two companions, followed by a small partyof his own attendants, towards the Ch?teau of Rosni, in which theyfound that the King had taken up his abode.
It was the bustle of a camp, rather than that of a court, that Helennow found. Tents were pitched in the meadows; baggage-waggonsencumbered the ground, bodies of soldiers were moving here and there,and parties of armed men with their steel caps laid aside, were seensupping on the damp ground under the trees, by the light of the fireswhich they kindled to keep off the exhalations of the night, nowdrawing in around them. The great doors of the ch?teau were wide open,the hall filled with people, and though the Count de Ligones acted asher spokesman, and inquired of several whom they met, if they couldtell where Monsieur de Chasseron was to be found, whether in thech?teau, or in the village, she could get no satisfactory answer ofany kind; and, indeed, so busy did every one seem with his ownthoughts, or his own business, that very often no reply was returnedat all.
As every one seemed at liberty to come and go, however, the old Count,more accustomed to such scenes than she, led her up the greatstaircase into the corridor at the top. But, as they were turning tothe right, more at a venture than by choice, a guard placed himselfbefore them, saying,--"You cannot pass, Sir, without an order. Theseare the King's apartments."
"Call a valet or an equerry," said Monsieur de Ligones.
The man obeyed; and, in a moment after, out came a tall good-lookingman, in military attire, who exclaimed at once, "Ah! Ligones, is thatyou? You are to quarter your men at the farther end of the village.There are two houses marked for you; but, good faith, you must makethem sleep as close as pigs in a sty. We only give them house room atall, because we know that there is not a man under seventy amongstthem, and so take care of their old bones."
"Thanks, Aubign?, thanks," replied the Count; "but I want to see theKing, and--"
"You cannot see him just now," answered Aubign?, "for he has got D' Oand other vermin with him, and has for once lost his patience. I heardhim swearing like a Reiter, with all the language of Babylon come backupon him in full force. I believe he will frighten them intodisgorging something; but whether or not sufficient to carry us toParis, I doubt. However, if you will wait half an hour, the fit ofblasphemy and finance, will have left him. May I ask what are yourcommands, Madam? If your business be with the King, I must report it;for he is always much more accessible to ladies than to gentlemen."
"No, Sir," said Helen, "I have not the honour of knowing his Majesty;but I would fain speak for a moment with Monsieur de Chasseron."
"He is not here, that I know of," replied Aubign?. "I have not seenhim for some time."
"If you would give that paper to Marshal Biron," answered the younglady, "and ask him to condescend to put down where Monsieur deChasseron is to be found, you would greatly oblige me."
"That I will do with pleasure," replied the equerry. "Let this ladyand gentleman pass," he continued, speaking to the guard; and thenadding, "I will keep you in the passage for a moment," he left them,entering a room at the very farther end of the corridor. Within thatwas another chamber, the door of which Aubign? opened gently; andthen stretching in his hand to a gentleman who sat nearest the end ofa long table, surrounded by a number of persons, he gave him the paperhe had received, saying, "Will you have the goodness to hand that upto Monsieur de Biron, and ask him to put down for a young lady whowaits without, where that gentleman is to be found. You may tell theKing, if you like," he added, in a whisper; "that she is prodigiouslyhandsome."
He paused a moment, while the paper passed from hand to hand. Some whoreceived it, smiled; some passed it on in silence; but Henri Quatrewho sat at the head of the table, remarked what was taking place, andexclaimed, "What is that?--What have you got there? Pardi, send itup."
The command was immediately obeyed; and, at the same moment, Henrinodding his head to Aubign? a little gravely, as if to reprove him forthe curiosity he seemed to evince, said, "You may go, companion."
The equerry retreated, and closed the door, without, however, quittingthe adjacent room; and Helen and Monsieur de Ligones remained standingin the corridor for nearly a quarter of an hour, while numerousattendants and officers passed them every minute. At the end of thattime, Aubign? again appeared; and, after informing the Count that hecould now speak with the King if he would go into the room at the endof the passage, he turned to Helen, saying, "Follow me, Mademoiselle.Monsieur de Chasseron is expected very soon; and you can wait forhim."
Helen thanked the old Count warmly for his courteous protection on theroad, and then prepared to accompany Aubign?; but Monsieur de Ligoneswhispered with kind intentions in her ear, "I will tell your two mento wait for you in the hall; and, as soon as your conference is over,you had better ride away to Rolleboise or Bonni?res, for this is notthe best place for a young creature like you. There are too many menhere, and too few women."
The blood came up into the poor girl's face; but she understood thatthe old nobleman's meaning was good, and replying, "I will!" shefollowed her conductor to a small cabinet but scantily furnished,where Aubign? left her, and closed the door.
Seating herself by the table, Helen remained in anxious meditation formore than half an hour, at the end of which time a number of stepswere heard in the corridor, and a tall stout man opened the door andlooked in. He withdrew again, immediately; and some ten minutes morepassed without anything occurring to disturb her reverie. Then,however, the door again opened; and, to her infinite satisfaction, thefigure of Chasseron himself, in his worn doublet and heavy boots,appeared, turning round his bead as he entered, and saying to some onewithout, "Wait, here! I will return directly."
Helen sprang up to meet him with that look of gladness and confidence,which is hard to resist; and, taking her hand, he exclaimed with agood-humoured smile, "Ah! my little prot?g?e!--Now, I warrant youthought the grey beard had forgotten you; but such was not the case,and you must have passed one of my men on the road. I have been sobusy I could not send before. But every one who cares for poor KingHenry, must be busy now; for no sooner does he gain one advantage thanhis own people help the enemy to deprive him of the fruits of it.Well, what news from St. Andr?? Were the people with whom I left youkind?"
"Oh! most kind," answered Helen de la Tremblade; "Mademoiselled'Albret is an old and generous friend--better alas! than I deserve;but it is for her sake I have come hither, not my own."
"Ha! How is that?" asked Chasseron; "has anything happened? Are theynot married?--Pardi. I thought they would lose no time. Yet I saw theyoung Baron in the field. He may have been wounded? He is not in thelist of killed."
He spoke so rapidly, that Helen had not time to answer anything hesaid, before something new was uttered. When he paused, however, shereplied, "No! Oh, no! He is not killed; but he is a prisoner whichis--or may be worse."
"Parbleu! that is unfortunate!" cried her companion. "He was one ofthose, I suppose, who ventured too rashly forward in the town of Ivry.Yet I saw him not there; and I was not far behind myself."
"It was not there he was taken," answered Helen; and, as briefly aspossible--for she saw that Chasseron, though wishing to show her everykindness, was in haste--she recapitulated all that had occurred on thebanks o
f Eure, since she had been placed in the farm-house.
The stout soldier shut his teeth, which were as white as snow, uponhis grizzled moustache; and then murmured, "They are unlucky folks!Poor things! To Chartres, did you say? Ventre Saint Gris! somethingmust be done for them.--Well, well, that may be set to rights."
These words seemed more the out-pourings of what was passing in hisown mind, than addressed to his fair companion; but the moment after,he turned to her, saying, "I have some small influence here; and Iwill not fail to use it for Monsieur de Montigni. He once came to myaid, fair lady, when life or death hung upon the event of a moment. Hehas since served the King to the best of his ability, and the Kingshould show himself grateful. Doubtless he will, and he shall not failto know the facts. Then it will not be impossible to exchange, againstMonsieur de Montigni, some prisoner in his hands."
"But they fear the Duke of Nemours will send back Mademoiselled'Albret to Marzay," said Helen; "and then--and then--"
"What then?" asked Chasseron, quickly. "Oh! I see," he continued;"They will force her into a wedding with Nicholas de Chazeul; asdishonest a rogue as ever used the pretence of religion to cover basedesigns. He shall not have her!--Pardi, he shall not have her if Ihave any say in the matter."
Helen turned pale, and trembled, but she replied not; and hercompanion added, after a moment's thought, "Well! that shall be caredfor, too, as far as I am able.--What was it you said about our goodold friend the Commander? Dead, did you say? Why, he fell not on thefield!"
"No," answered Helen in a subdued tone, "He died last night of hiswounds."
"God have his soul in guard!" cried the stout soldier. "He was a goodold man!--But now, my poor young lady, to tell truth--though I amright glad to see you--yet your coming puzzles me not a little. I knownot what to do with you here. They say, pity is akin to love, but--"He saw that Helen's cheek turned pale; and, he added quickly, "Nay, donot fear; There's honour amongst thieves; and I am not one to takeadvantage of misfortune--What I would say is simply, that I know nothow or where to lodge you here in honesty or safety. Then, too, wherethe King goes I must go; and--"
"Nay, Sir," replied Helen, "Do not embarrass yourself, for me or myfate. Deeply grateful am I for kindness to one who, when you found me,was outcast, hopeless, and unfriended; but I am now no longer withoutprotection and support. Good Monsieur Estoc, whom I think you know,sent me hither to tell you all that had occurred, hoping that yourinfluence with the King, or his ministers, might enable you to aidMonsieur de Montigni and Mademoiselle d'Albret; but Monsieur Estocwill protect me. He has promised to do so, and I am sure he willperform it."
"Ay, good faith, that he will!" answered Chasseron, "and it is betterthat he should than that I should. As to influence, Heaven knows, theKing, good man, can rarely be got to do what he ought; and, with hisministers, I have none, alas! But what I can do, I will; and, in themean time, tell old Estoc, that you have seen Chasseron; and mayhap hewill be with him, with a score of lances, for a day's sport. Let himgive me speedy news of what is going on. I am here for a day or two,it seems, and cannot get away, for my movements depend on greater menthan myself.--But to return to your own business--What do you donext?"
"To-morrow I am to join Monsieur Estoc," replied Helen, "and go withhim to Marzay. They think," she added in a hesitating tone, "that Imaybe of service there to Mademoiselle d'Albret. To-night I propose togo with the two men who came with me, to Rolleboise or Bonni?res."
"Right! right!" replied Chasseron; "yet they are full of ourpeople.--Well, I will send some one with you, to secure youprotection.--And now," he continued in a lower and a gentler tone,"when I first found you, I think you were but poorly supplied withthat, to which we are all, both great and small, obliged to bow ourheads, though it be an idol: I mean money. I am, it is true, verypoor; but--"
Helen waved her hand, bending her eyes to the ground, and colouringdeeply. Why she did so, the reader must ask of his own heart; but, asher companion spoke, the words he had just before used, that "pity isakin to love," rung in her ears again.
"I have enough," she said, "more than enough, thanks to the generosityof poor Monsieur de Liancourt. Accept, Sir, my deepest, my mostheartfelt thanks. Had it not been for you, I should not have been, atthis hour, alive; and now I will keep you no longer, for I know youare in haste."
"Yet stay a moment," said Chasseron. "I must send some one with you.He shall be here directly. Now farewell."
He gazed on her for a moment--seemed to hesitate; and then, taking herhand in his, raised it to his lips, kissed it, not warmly, thoughtenderly, and, repeating the word "Farewell," turned to the door. Whenhis fingers were upon the latch, however, he looked round saying,"Wait till somebody comes from me--He shall not be long;" and then,opening the door, he left her once more alone.
Ere ten minutes were over, Helen was joined by an elderly man, in ariding dress, who bowing low, said, "I have come from Monsieur deChasseron, Mademoiselle, and am to accompany you to Rolleboise."
Helen expressed her readiness to set out; and following her new guidethrough the corridor and down the stairs, found the two old soldierswho had accompanied her, waiting with some impatience and anxiety inthe hall. The whole party were soon on horseback; and, riding slowlythrough the darkness, with the bright Seine glistening on their right,reached Rolleboise in about three quarters of an hour. The little inn,however, which, at that time, stood wedged in between the high banksand the river, was filled to the doors; but at Bonni?res, about twomiles farther, they found all quiet and tranquil; and theaccommodation which they wanted, was easily procured. Helen retired torest at once; and rising early the next morning to pursue her way,found the man who had guided her from Rosni, waiting to see herdepart.
Nothing more occurred on her journey worthy of the reader's attention,and I shall only therefore notice, that, at Ch?teauneuf, she foundthat Estoc and the funeral procession of the old Commander had alreadypassed on towards Marzay. She was here obliged again to pause for thenight, and did not reach the village of Marzay, which lay at thedistance of about half a league from the ch?teau, till sunset on thefollowing day. She found Estoc waiting her arrival, full of anxiety onmany accounts; for some communication had naturally establisheditself, between the people of the ch?teau and their old companions,and many of the events which have been recorded in the preceding pageshad become known to the old soldier.
The news she brought him of her interview with Chasseron seemed tointerest him much. Its first effect, however, was to throw him into afit of meditation, and he made little or no comment, but by the words,"He can do it if he will;--and yet I love not this rumour of the boy'sdeath. He is hot and quick; and there may be truth in it, though, Ithink it is but one of their lies after all."
"Whose death?" cried Helen de la Tremblade, turning as pale as death,"not Monsieur de Montigni's?"
"Ay, so they have spread abroad the report," replied Estoc, "but 'tisa falsehood I believe, to drive poor Rose to do what they want. Itrust in heaven she will not believe it."
"And if she does," exclaimed Helen, "she will sooner die than take thefate they offer her. Oh, no! it is one of that terrible woman'sfrauds. But Rose will never consent."
"I trust not," answered Estoc in a doubtful tone. "But a report hasreached me, that they intend to force this marriage upon her to-morrowmorning, and our best hope of preventing it lies with you,Mademoiselle Helen."
"I will go directly," said Helen, in a tone wonderfully calm. "I amready now."
"No, no," replied the old soldier, "not so, my dear; you must waittill all the world's asleep, but your uncle. He watches all night inthe chapel. You too have need of rest and refreshment; and an hourbefore midnight we will set out."
Helen took some food, and then lay down in the cottage, where achamber had been prepared for her; but sleep visited not her eyelids;and her own thoughts were more wearisome than any corporeal exertioncould have been.