CHAPTER XXXII.
The morning broke clear and fair; a few light clouds indeed hung aboutthe eastern sky, but only sufficient to catch the rays of the risingsun, and gather them together, in a more intense glow. But these weresoon dispersed; and the sky beamed, within five minutes after thebreak of dawn, in clear and unclouded beauty. Those clouds, however,were still hanging over the verge of heaven, and not above half thedisc of the orb of light showed itself above the horizon, when theMarquis de Chazeul, full dressed, left his own apartments, and hurriedto those of his mother. As he went, the sound of a hunting horn wasborne upon the wind to his ear; and pausing for a moment, with allthat fierce, tenacious jealousy of the rights of the chase, which wasentertained by the old feudal nobles of France; he muttered, "It mustbe a bold man, or well accompanied, to hunt so near the Ch?teau deMarzay. This must be seen to;" and striding on, he entered hismother's ante-room with very little respect for the half-completedtoilet of her maids.
The Marchioness was still in bed; but, according to the custom of theday, she made no scruple of admitting any one who came in thatsituation; and her son was speedily at her bed-side. "Well, Chazeul,"she said, with a shrewd smile, "the thing is done, I find; but tell meall about it. You did not disturb her I suppose?"
"No," answered Chazeul, "I found everything as still as death; and soI left it. I might have been tempted, indeed, to look in between thecurtains, if I had had light enough to see my fair bride as she layslumbering. I was afraid she might wake too."
"No great matter if she had," replied Madame de Chazeul. "The priestwas not in his chamber; and the girl Blanchette would have beendiscreet."
"I don't know that," replied Chazeul.
"You don't know what?" demanded the Marchioness.
"I don't know that you are right in either the one or the other,"answered her son; "for, as I went in, I certainly heard a noise in thenext room, as if some one were locking the door, and there was alight, too, came through the key-hole. Then, as to Blanchette, sheseemed to be seized with a sudden fit of perverseness. It cost me afull hour and a hundred lies, to persuade her to do as she was bid."
"The hour's time was a loss," observed his sweet mother; "as to thelies, that was no great expense. They are money easily coined. But Iwill teach that girl obedience before I have done with her. The hussy!it was but to enhance the price.--The priest in his room!--Ay, so hemight be. Now I recollect, he was wandering about at that hour. Andnow, my dearly beloved son, between you and me, your absence for thenext two or three hours, might be more advantageous than yourpresence. I have got to communicate your delinquency, you know, to mygood brother, De Liancourt--in other words to tell him--ay, and proveto him too, that you have been seen creeping in and out of fair Rose'schamber at midnight; and it is ten to one that his first indignationfalls upon you. That must have time to cool before you make yourappearance; and in the mean time there is plenty to be done."
"Oh, I can find occupation," replied Chazeul. "There are men huntingin the forest; and I should much like to see who they maybe. I willmount, and take some half dozen men with me, to reconnoitre; and if Ido not find them too strong, I will hunt them as fiercely as ever theychased deer."
"Take care of ambuscades," cried the Marchioness. "No, no, Chazeul.Better leave them alone till after the wedding. We have got otherthings to do. We must have a priest to bury the dead, and marry theliving."
"How so?" exclaimed Chazeul, in some surprise; "is not father Walterhere?"
"Ay, he is here," answered the Marchioness, "but I suspect the goodman is not well enough to appear before noon."
She spoke with a meaning smile; and her son demanded, "What is it youmean, mother of mine? There is something in your eye."
"Nothing but rheum," rejoined the Marchioness. "However, if you needsmust know, father Walter has discovered your folly with his nieceHelen.--That is all."
"Pardi!" exclaimed Chazeul, "What is to be done now?"
"Nothing,"' answered the Marchioness. "I have provided for him. He issick, you know. He is ill, and unable to leave his chamber till afterthe wedding. Let that suffice, my son."
"It will suffice for me, my most sagacious mother," replied Chazeul;"but will it suffice for others?"
"As I will manage it," said Madame de Chazeul. "At all events, it wasthe only step to be taken, without making him sick indeed; and that Ihad no time to consider. But it seems that, last night, after all theworld were sleeping, but you and I and half-a-dozen others, he thoughtfit to send my page, Philip, to Chazeul, to bring a book of Hoursbelonging to the girl Helen from her room, and in my name too.--Whatis in it I know not; but I shall soon see. I trust, Chazeul, you havenot been fool enough to write anything in the book; but if you have,that fire must prove your friend, and conceal your stupidity. The sameelement has proved serviceable to you before; for never did a greenboy at college, put himself more completely in the power of an artfulcourtesan, than you did, by your pastoral epistles, in the power ofHelen de la Tremblade. However, if they can decipher smoke and ashes,they may prove the contract. If not, it is dissolved."
Nicholas de Chazeul winced under the infliction. He was not one tobear easily the charge of folly even from his mother. Vice she mighthave charged him with at will; sin, crime, he would easily have borne;but weakness, foolishness, were accusations, against which all thevanity of his heart took arms; and his cheek grew red, his brow heavy,while he answered, "Perhaps not so stupid as you think, Madam. It wasnecessary to keep the girl quiet. I wrote nothing in any book,however; and perhaps, after all, you may yourself be deceived, and thepriest know nothing about it."
Madame de Chazeul shook her head, replying, "Too surely!--I have beenguilty of a folly as well as you, boy; and gave way to anger when Ishould have dealt more patiently. What is done, however, is done; andthe only thing that remained, was, for me to cure one sharp act byanother.--But let us talk no more of these matters. There lies thepriest; and there he must lie till you are married. I will deal withyour uncle and sweet Mademoiselle Rose, and you must do your part."
"And pray, will your sagacity let me know what my part is to be?"asked Chazeul; for be it remarked, that he always spoke in a somewhatjesting and irreverent tone to his excellent parent, even while he wasmost implicitly following her impulses.
"It is an easy one, my son," replied the Marchioness. "First you mustgo down to the village, and engage the cur? to come up hither for thedouble duty that is to be performed. There is the old man to beburied. That had better take place at nine; and then there is theyoung man to be married, which must be done before noon. He will ofcourse speak of father Walter, and say, it is his office to bury ormarry all that die of the line of Liancourt; that he has specialrights and privileges in the Chapel of Marzay, with which none caninterfere, and more to the same purpose; but then you must put on asad and solemn face, and answer that the good father was to haveperformed both ceremonies, but that this last night, by too muchwatching prayer and fasting by the corpse, he has fallen grievouslyill, and has taken to his bed. Doubtless he will wish to see him whenhe comes up here, between the funeral and the wedding; but fatherWalter can get some refreshing sleep about that time; and 'twould be asin to wake him."
Chazeul laughed. "You are armed at all points, I see," he answered;"but if, after all, Rose should show her refractory spirit at thealtar, it will then be matter of regret and difficulty too, that wehave not some one in our interest to go on quietly with the service,without having very fine ears for objections."
"As to the regret," said the Marchioness, "that is soon swept away.There was no way of avoiding what has been done. I know father Walter;and with him, when once his interests are opposed to yours, there isno way of dealing, but by force against wit. We are all very clever,Chazeul; and by experience of the world, we gain a certain degree ofskill, like that of a village quacksalver; but a priest has a regulareducation in outwitting all the world, and a diploma to do it. Thenfor the difficulty, the cur? is a good man--an excellent good man. Lethi
m speak to me; and I will give him such reasons for thinking itbest, Mademoiselle d'Albret should be your wife, that he will make youone, whether she says 'yes' or 'no,' I warrant."
"Well, all this will but occupy a short space," answered Chazeul;"and, therefore, if I am to be out of my uncle's way till his passionbe cooled, pray tell me by your cabalistic art, when I may calculatethat his vicinity will be safe; for I know not that I can play my partwith him as well as I did with our fair Rose yesterday."
"Ay! you did that well," rejoined his mother, with an approving nod;"but you must not be back till near eleven; or if you be, you mustkeep your chamber as if afraid to appear. When you do, you must bemighty penitent, hear all his censure with deep humility, express yourin grief broken words and sentences, that mean more than they say;never deny your crime, but plead temptation. That will be all easilydone, when the first storm has blown over, especially when you arethere ready to make the best atonement in your power, for any wrongyou may have done the lady's reputation. What can be expected more?But there is one thing more to be considered. That old marauder,Estoc, was still at the village yesterday. I like it not; I know notwhat he wants: you must be on your guard! He may have designs we knownot of. He certainly aided De Montigni and Rose in their escape. Hemay think Nicholas de Chazeul, a prize worth keeping in his hands,--acomfortable hostage for her marriage with the boy he loves so well.Before you venture into the village, send down and see if he be stillthere, and if he be, have the cur? brought up to you.--But go not toonear."
"Oh, I fear him not!" replied Chazeul; "he would never dare to draw asword against me, under the very walls of Marzay. No fear, no fear,dear mother. But I will be cautious for the present. The men ofChazeul must soon be back, if all their throats be not cut, as, by myfaith, I am tempted to think they must be, by their long stay; andwhen they return, I will drive the old wolf out of his lair at thelance's point. I have not forgotten him. But the delay of these menpuzzles me.--They had strict orders to return as soon as a battle waslost or won."
"They may have been driven back with Mayenne across the Seine,"replied Madame de Chazeul; "or towards Houdan and Versailles; and arenot able to force their way across. Besides, you know the Bailli lovesadventures, and is not un-fond of plunder. He may have some privateenterprise in hand."
Chazeul shut his lips close. "He shall pay for it, if he haveneglected my commands at a moment of need, for any scheme of his own,"he said. "But I will go, good mother, and leave you to your devices.Fear not for me; I will take good care;" and thus saying he left herto pursue her tortuous plans to their consummation.
He himself was soon upon his horse's back, and down the slope; but erehe lost sight of the protecting walls of the castle, he sent forwardone of the men who followed him, to inquire whether Estoc and hisparty were still in the village, riding slowly on with the rest. Theattendant returned in about ten minutes, bringing intelligence thatthe place was clear.
"Monsieur Estoc," he said, "marched this morning an hour beforedaylight; having, it seems, received tidings in the night whichhurried his departure. The cottager whom I spoke with, told me that hebelieved those tidings were, that some bands were coming up from theside of Chartres."
"The Bailli and our own people, on my life!" replied Chazeul; "or hewould not have hurried away so soon. Which way did he go? I will havehim pursued if they arrive in time."
"Towards Mortagne," answered the servant; "at least, so the man said."
"Did you hear aught of these hunters?" demanded his master.
"They did not pass through the village, Sir," was the reply, "but theywere seen upon the edge of the wood by some of the people, and seemedsomewhat strong in numbers."
"Then we must be strong ourselves, before we deal with them," observedhis master, and rode on straight to the priest's house in the village.He found the worthy cur? at the door of his dwelling--a stout, roundfaced, well-fed ecclesiastic; and, as so often happens in life, noneof the objections or difficulties, against which answers had beenprepared, were made. The priest merely expressed his sorrow thatfather Walter, his reverend friend, was unwell; and, knowing that bothat funerals and marriages much good eating and drinking seldom failedto take place, he agreed to perform both ceremonies with equalpleasure.
Well was it for the Marquis de Chazeul, that Estoc was not aware ofhis visit to the village; for the old soldier was not as far off as heimagined; and had he known that such a prey was near, it might havebeen long before the walls of Marzay had seen their lord's nephewwithin them again.