CHAPTER V.
Louis De Montigni was in hope of a brief period of repose andsolitude; repose not so much of the body as of the mind; solitude inwhich he might, to use the fine expression of Holy Writ, "Commune withhis own heart and be still." He had much need of it; for the last halfhour had exhausted him more than all the fatigues of the day. It hadbeen one of greater emotion than he knew, or would admit; and what isthere more wearing than emotion? He imagined that he felt pained andgrieved, only at finding, on his coming back to a place which had longbeen his home, that he was half a stranger, his place in itsfamiliarity usurped by another, and he himself looked upon, not as thereturned son of the house, but as one to be observed and marked bythose now in possession. But in reality and truth, there were deepersources of anxiety and sorrow below; though it must always be full ofanguish to a young and inexperienced heart to find for the first timethe emptiness of professions, the hollowness of half the friendshipsto which we trusted, the selfishness of the many, the baseness ofsome, the instability of others, the falsehood, even, of the near anddear--to discover that a few short years, a few short hours, perhaps,will shake us loose from hearts in which we fancied ourselves rootedso that tempests would not teams out. Yet there are more painfulthings than even these every-day lessons of the world's constitution;things that, blighting at once hope and confidence, extinguishing thelamp of the future, and clouding the moonlight of memory, dispose usto lay down the weary head upon any pillow for repose--even if it bethat of the grave.
He would not show all that he felt; he wished to show no part of it;and he was anxious, most anxious, to have a short space, in which, byhis own power over his own mind, he might repress all externalappearances of disappointment and regret, and so school his heart,that not the slightest token of what was passing therein might showitself in his outward demeanour.
With this purpose, and in this hope, he took his way up one of thenarrow wooden staircases in the ch?teau, towards the apartments whichhad been formerly apportioned to him, and which he had been informedwere again prepared for his reception. He entered the well-rememberedante-room, and looked round. Everything was just as he left it;the very chairs and tables were the same, and seemed in the sameposition. He wished that it had been otherwise; he would have beenglad to see gilding and tinsel, and new decorations, rather than thewell-remembered old oak panelling, the huge chimney, with the irondogs to support the wood, and the tall-backed, uncomfortable chairs.It made him feel that man alone was changed. It was full of memorieswhich he wished not to indulge. He went on quickly into the roombeyond, taking up the lamp which stood upon the table in theante-chamber; but there it was just the same. His servants, thinkinghe would stay longer in the hall, had spread out some of his apparelin haste, and had gone to greet their fellows in the offices; but eventhe sight of the various things he had brought with him from a foreignland were painful to him. They brought the thought of peaceful days,brightened by occasional dreams of happiness to come, of expectationswhich in truth he had been in no haste to realize till it was toolate, of vague aspirations, which, like some shrubs that produce along succession of ephemeral blossoms, had died as they bloomed, butflowered again everyday.
Casting himself into a seat, he leaned his head upon his hand, and fora minute or two gave himself up to thought. "'Tis strange," he said tohimself; "I knew not how deeply I should feel this, till I came nearthese gates. The apprehension was less than the reality. Scarcely anhour ago, I could have talked calmly of all; could have jested on it,as any indifferent thing. But to feel it is very, very different." Hemused for a moment, then raised his eyes and gazed about the room.Some one had placed an ebony crucifix upon a small table at the side,with the figure of the dying Saviour in ivory standing boldly out fromthe black background of the cross. It was the only change that hadtaken place, and yet it struck him with melancholy, rather thanconsolatory feelings.
"I must conquer this," he thought. "What right have I to repine atanother's happiness?" But ere he could give further way to hisreflections, he heard a step in the ante-room; and rising, he cast offhis cloak, and unlooped his collar, as if engaged in preparing for theevening meal.
The moment after his uncle, the Count de Liancourt, entered with anair of assumed cheerfulness, which Montigni saw at a glance, onlycovered some anxiety.
"Well, Louis," he said, "all, you see, is just as you left it."
"All in these rooms appears to be so, Sir," he replied; and thenfeeling that there was more point in the words than he wished to givethem, he added, "But a good many changes seem to have been made in therest of the house."
"Few, very few," answered Monsieur de Liancourt; "and most of those Ihad long intended. The others are but preparations for the wedding."
His nephew was silent, and the Count paused for want of thatassistance which a single word might have given. At that moment one ofthe young nobleman's servants appeared, and began to arrange hisapparel; but the Count, resolved to pursue the purpose for which hehad come, gave an impatient "Pshaw!" and then added, "Send him away,Louis; he can come again in a quarter of an hour."
The man withdrew at a sign; and De Montigni, turning to his uncle witha grave and self-possessed tone, which somewhat surprised andembarrassed one who had been always accustomed to think of him as aboy, inquired, "Have you anything of importance to say, Sir?" adding,"if you have, I could wish you would reserve it till to-morrow; whenless fatigued I shall be able to hear it with better attention and aclearer mind."
"Oh, no! nothing--nothing particular, Louis," said his uncle, who hadseated himself; "only we were speaking of Chazeul's marriage. I trustyou think it is a good arrangement?"
"To anything that may promote Mademoiselle's d'Albret's happiness, Icannot of course object," replied De Montigni gravely, and there hestopped.
Another embarrassing pause succeeded, and then the Count went on,saying, "It is a matter I have long determined on. The union of thehouses of Chazeul and De Marennes must at once strike every one as analliance much to be desired. The important family thus raised up must,in the present troubled state of the country, gain great influence,and may be of great service to the state; and as to private and familyconsiderations, they all tend strongly to the same point; andtherefore, after mature consideration, I resolved that it should takeplace."
De Montigni made no answer; and before his uncle, who was not at allwell pleased with his silence, could find words to go on, a heavy stepwas heard in the ante-room, and the good old commander opened thedoor. The old man's eyes were somewhat red, as if they had had recenttears in them; but when he saw his brother, a look of surprise anddisappointment came into his countenance, and he drew back a step,saying, "I did not know you were here, Anthony. I will not disturbyou."
"Oh no, my dear uncle!" cried De Montigni; "Monsieur de Liancourt sayshe has nothing important to say. Pray come in. You must not take thetrouble of coming up that long stair for nothing."
"No, no, Louis," replied the commander, "some other time--to-morrow,or the next day we will have our chat. Anthony's nothings are oftenthe most important things he has to do;" and thus saying, he retiredand closed the door.
"How peevish he grows!" said the Count. "However, Louis, I am glad tofind you approve of your cousin's marriage with my fair ward; and--"
"Nay, Sir," interrupted De Montigni, "I neither approve nor disapproveof a matter in which I have no say, and have never been consulted.Whatever Mademoiselle d'Albret thinks best for her happiness, musthave my best wishes for its result."
"Well, well, that is the same thing," cried his uncle, somewhatsharply; "of course she thinks it will be for her happiness; and I amsure of it, which is of more importance. Rose is a very good, amiablegirl, and will always be able to find happiness in the line of duty;and I am not one to deceive myself as to what is best for thosecommitted to my care. It has been my anxious contemplation for many ayear, how to promote the interests and comfort of the three personswho seem especially placed under my guidance and direction
, Rose,yourself, and Chazeul. He being of an eager, active, and worldlydisposition, is best fitted for struggling with these hard andcontentious times, and therefore in the distribution of the propertyof my family, which is large enough to satisfy all, I intend to assignhim all the territorial possessions at my death. On you who are of astudious, calm, and thoughtful character, I intend to bestow at onceall the rich benefices which are held by the house of Liancourt. Theyare equal in revenues to the land, and, with your own hereditaryproperty, will form a princely income. Then the bishopric of Sens mustnecessarily soon fall in, for my uncle who holds it is in hiseightieth year. To it, will be easily attached the hat of a cardinal,as has indeed been generally done; and thus one of the highestdignities in the world will be secured to you."
He spoke volubly and eagerly, to get over as fast as possible theannouncement of the dispositions he thought fit to make, withoutinterruption; and he then added with an air of dignified satisfaction,"Thus you see, my dear Louis, I have in every respect considered yourhappiness and your fortune, and nothing remains but to sign the paperswhich confirm this arrangement."
But though the Count thought himself both just and generous, and felthimself taking an elevated position towards his nephew, Louis deMontigni saw the matter in a somewhat different light. "Rosed'Albret," he thought, "the whole inheritance of Marennes, all theestates of Liancourt added to those of Chazeul! This is certainly thelion's portion, yet would I give up every part therein right willinglybut one."
He remained silent, however, with his head leaning on his hand,and his eyes fixed upon the table, till his uncle exclaimedimpatiently, "You make no answer, Louis. Is it possible that you aredissatisfied--ungrateful?"
"No, my dear uncle!" replied the young nobleman. "But this is a veryimportant question; and I told you that I would fain have some reposebefore I discussed such things! I repeat it, that I could much wish tohave some time for consideration and thought, before I make anyanswer, farther than that I thank you deeply for all the care andkindness which you have always bestowed upon me."
"Methinks," said his uncle in a tone of displeasure, "that onemoment's reflection were enough to show you the propriety of thatwhich is proposed, and to induce you to sign at once the papersnecessary to confirm such a well-considered arrangement."
"Nay, Sir," answered De Montigni, "it might be so, if only thedisposition of your property were concerned."
"And pray what is there more?" asked the Count angrily; "what have Ipretended to dispose of, in which I have no right to dictate? Isuppose you will not deny, that I am authorized to bestow the hand ofmy ward where I think proper? What is there else that I dispose of,that is not my own?"
"Of me, my dear uncle," replied De Montigni. "If I understand youright, I must enter the church. Though some men hold bishopricswithout such a process, according to the evil practices of thesecorrupt days, such cannot be the case long: nor were I one to followsuch an iniquitous course. All these benefices by right ought to beheld by an ecclesiastic; and I will never hold them but as one.Indeed, what you have said of my studious and thoughtful habits, showsthat you know such must be the case. The church, therefore, is to bemy destiny under this plan; but surely such a step requires somewhatmore than _a moment's consideration_. It is a question I have nevercontemplated: it never entered my thoughts. I came hither prepared tothrow off my somewhat long-indulged inactivity, to take a part in whatis passing in my native land, after due deliberation and inquiry todraw the sword rather than to put on the gown. Nay, more, I shouldhave done so long ago, had you yourself not urged me strongly, inevery letter but your last, to remain at Padua and continue mystudies, without entering into a strife where family is ranged againstfamily, and brother takes arms against brother."
"And why did I do so?" asked Monsieur de Liancourt. "Simply because Ihave long determined on what I have this night announced. Is the richbishopric, so long in my family, to be lost--to be thrown away for awhim? No, no, Louis. It was that you might be qualified to hold it,and disposed by habit to receive it, that made me wish you to staywhere you were."
"If you had announced your wishes, Sir, before, I should have beenbetter prepared to fulfil them," replied his nephew; "as it is I musthave time. There may be men who look upon these things lightly, whocould take upon them the solemn vows which bind them to the highestand holiest duties, without care or consideration. They may be right,or they may be wrong; they may be men who, from the course of theirlife and the habits of their thought, are fully prepared for such adecision, though conscious of its great importance: or they may bethose who, never intending to fulfil the obligations of any station inwhich they are placed, look upon all indifferently. I am in neither ofthese conditions; I have never considered the subject; I have preparedmy mind for other things; but if I do consent, it will be with thedetermination to act up to the calling I assume, and be anecclesiastic in spirit and in heart, as well as in name."
"Oh, if it be only conscientious considerations that withhold you,"said his uncle, "those will be soon satisfied by good father Walter.He shall speak with you this very night. You know him, and esteemhim."
"Much," replied De Montigni, "and will gladly converse with him for anhour or two alone on this subject."
"Why not at once," asked his uncle; "I can call him in a minute, hischamber is but at the end of the passage."
As he spoke, however, the sound of a trumpet, as was then common inFrance, announced the hour of supper; and feeling that he could notpress the subject further, Monsieur de Liancourt added, "Well, well,afterwards will do; and I doubt not that to-morrow I shall find youquite determined, and willing to sign the papers, and accept thebenefices, which shall be made over to you immediately."
"What are these papers, Sir," asked De Montigni, without giving anyreply upon the subject of his willingness.
"Oh, nothing but common forms," replied his uncle, "I cannot explainthem all to you just now, for supper is served. Come, De Montigni."
"I am not quite ready yet," answered the young Baron, "pray do notwait for me; I will join you in a few minutes."
His uncle accordingly left him; but instead of proceeding to changehis dress, De Montigni covered his eyes with his hands, and gavehimself up for a few minutes to bitter and anxious thought. Oh howmany wild and tumultuous feelings passed through his bosom during thatshort space of time! and all were sad and painful. The contemplationof the future, the memory of the past, the consideration of thepresent, regret, apprehension, indecision, were all present to hismind at once; and, for some time, thought seemed one strange chaos ofindistinct and gloomy forms, from which at length rose up one imagemore painful than all the rest. His mind rested upon Rose d'Albret,and upon the idea of losing her for ever. Remembrance brought her backas the companion of his boyhood; he recollected how she had shared hissports, how she had ridden by his side through the scenes around, howshe had taken part in his pleasures and his fancies, how she hadsoothed him under any of the petty griefs of youth, how she had turnedfrom him anger and reproof, when in the gay light-heartedness of earlyyears he had offended the irritable gravity of age. She had alwaysloved him he thought, and he had always loved her, with the tender andunselfish love of years when passion is unknown. He had ever thoughther beautiful,--most beautiful; but it was the kindness, theaffection, in her radiant eyes that gave them double light to him; andnow he had seen her in the full loveliness of womanly perfection, hehad beheld the same looks bent upon him from a face which might wellinspire more ardent feelings; and yet he was even now to see her givento another,--now, at the very moment when he had most learnt to longfor her himself. Often he had fancied in his boyish dreams that, atsome future period she would be his own; that their mutual lives,through maturity and age, would pass in the same happy confidence, inthe same warm affection, which had brightened their childhood. Healmost believed that some one had told him so, that she had beenoriginally destined for him; and, as his mind rested upon thatthought, his disappointment became the more bitter.
What was to be his future life then? to be cut off from all the joysof domestic life; to embrace that cold and stern profession which, inhis church, excluded those who adopted it from all the warm relationsof husband and father; to pass his days in the dull routine of formalservices, or in the petty intrigues and artful man[oe]uvres which havetoo often disgraced the Roman hierarchy; to cast from him at once allthe dreams and aspirations of young and energetic manhood; and, beforehis hair was grey, to clothe his mind with the chilly garmenture ofage. He shrunk from the thought; but, when he recollected that Rosed'Albret was to be the wife of another, it seemed to him a matter ofsmall moment how his after days were to be passed.
Such were some of his thoughts, and only some; for there were many,many more; and yet they occupied but a very few minutes. It was notone by one they came, but appeared before him like a hostile army,stretching out at once on every side wherever his eye was turned.Nevertheless he could have gone on for hours, and yet not haveexhausted all the bitter subjects of contemplation presented to him.
Most likely, indeed, he would have gone on much longer, had notone of his servants presented himself to assist him in dressing; andstarting up from his sorrowful reveries, he hastened to cast off histravel-stained garments, and in a few minutes descended to the hall,where the rest of the party were assembled to supper.
A place was reserved for him between the count and the old commander.On the right hand of the latter sat father Walter, and on the oppositeside were Chazeul and Mademoiselle d'Albret. Two or three of theretainers of the house, who bore the rank of gentlemen, filled up therest of the table, with Chasseron and Estoc at the bottom. It was onthe countenance of Rose d'Albret, however, that the eyes of DeMontigni rested, as with a slow step he entered the hall. She waslooking thoughtfully down, with a pale cheek and a grave brow; and shedid not look up till he had taken his seat, when she did so with astart, as if suddenly wakened from her reverie.
Monsieur de Liancourt made an effort to receive him with a cheerfuland unembarrassed air, laughed and talked more than was necessary, butyet was evidently occupied with other thoughts, and not altogetherwell pleased. Chazeul tried hard to engage his fair companion in alow-toned conversation, but, failing there, turned to his cousin DeMontigni, and by the sort of bantering persiflage which has beencommon in all ages to small wits, sought to show his own superiorityas a man of the world, at the expense of his relation's inexperience.But the extent of De Montigni's information, his knowledge of otherscenes and other lands, the higher tone of his mind, and, above all,that calmness which is often generated by deep and powerful feelings,even when they are those of sadness and disappointment, set thehaughty and supercilious jests of the Leaguer at nought; and he oftenrebuked him with a quick and cutting reply, which made the oldcommander laugh, and once called a smile even upon the grave lips offather Walter.
Rose seemed greatly busied with her own thoughts, and attended littleto what was passing, though once indeed she raised her eyes to DeMontigni's face with a slight smile, while he administered somewholesome chastisement to the jeering spirit of his cousin; and whenhe went on in a few brief sentences to point out that there werehigher things in life, than those on which Chazeul seemed to set suchstore, her eyes brightened, her look became full of interest andpleasure; and then she suddenly withdrew her gaze from his face, andfell into deeper thought than before.
There were one or two persons present who marked all this, and knewthat the two cousins were rivals in heart, though not openly; and theyeasily judged, that the contrast was unfavourable to him who seemedthe successful lover. Amongst these, there were some who wished toprolong it; but the priest took the first opportunity of stopping anyfurther comparison, by given thanks after meat, as soon as possible,and rising to depart.
In the little confusion which always takes place at the conclusion ofa meal, the old commander drew De Montigni aside and whispered, "Iwill come up and see you directly, Louis, if you will go up to yourown room."
"The Count is going to send Monsieur de la Tremblade to me," repliedthe young nobleman, in the same tone; "will he interrupt you?"
"Yes, yes, diabolically," replied the old soldier; "get rid of him assoon as you can, Louis. I will set a watch, to see when he leaves you,and come immediately after, for I must and will speak with youto-night, let who will try to prevent it. Mind, be upon your guardwith him," he added, "promise nothing, engage yourself to nothing.Have I your word, that you will not, till you have spoken with me?"
"You have, my dear uncle," replied De Montigni; and at the same momentthe priest approached, and laying his hand upon the young Baron's arm,he said "Monsieur de Liancourt tells me, you desire to speak with me."
"He wished me to have some conversation with you, my good Father,"replied De Montigni, "and I shall be most happy when you are atleisure."
"This moment, if you please," rejoined the priest; and they left thehall together, the young nobleman perceiving as he did so, that theeyes of Rose d'Albret were fixed upon him, with an eager and somewhatanxious gaze.