Chapter 22: Reunited.
Philip took clothes with him, in his saddlebags, of gayer coloursthan those worn by the Huguenots; and as soon as they were beyondthe district where the Protestants were in the ascendant, he putthese on instead of those in which he had started. They rode fastand, on the fifth day after leaving La Rochelle, they enteredVersailles. No questions had been asked them by the way, and theyrode into the courtyard of the principal inn, and there stabledtheir horses.
"Your animals look as if they needed rest, sir," the landlord said,as they dismounted.
"Yes, we have come from the south, and have pressed them too much.I have business in Paris which will occupy me for a few days;therefore I will leave them here, for a rest. I suppose you canfurnish me with two horses, to take me as far as Saint Cloud, and aman to bring them back again."
"Certainly I can, sir, and your horses shall be well looked after,here."
"Then we will go on, the first thing in the morning. Have thehorses ready by that time."
The next morning they rode to Saint Cloud, dismounted there, andhanded over the horses to the man who had ridden behind them. Thenthey crossed by the bridge over the river and, entering the woodthat bordered the Seine, put on the disguises they had brought withthem--concealing their clothes among some thick bushes--and thenwalked on into Paris.
They put up at a small inn and, as they partook of a meal, listenedto the talk of those around them. But it was not here that theycould expect to gather the news they required. They heard the namesof many of those who had been killed, but these were all leaders ofdistinction; and as soon as they had finished their food, theystarted for the Louvre.
"I don't see how we are to find out what we want, now we are here,Pierre," Philip said, after they had stood for some time, lookingat the gate through which numbers of gentlemen entered or left thepalace.
"It will take some little time, sir," Pierre said. "I think thebest plan will be for me to purchase some clothes, suitable for thelackey of a gentleman of rank. I can get them easily enough, forthe shops will be full of garments, bought of those who took partin the massacre. Then I shall make acquaintance with one of thelackeys of the court and, with plenty of good wine, I shall nodoubt be able to learn all that he knows as to what took place atthe Louvre."
At that moment a gentleman passed them.
"That is Count Louis de Fontaine, the cousin of the man I killed inthat duel. I am sure it is he. By what I saw of him, he is agentleman and a man of honour, and by no means ill disposed towardsus.
"I will speak to him. Do you stay here, till I return."
Pierre was about to protest, but Philip had already left him, andwas following the count. He waited until they were in acomparatively quiet place, and then walked on and overtook him.
"Count Louis de Fontaine," he said.
The nobleman turned, in surprise, at being addressed by this bigcountryman.
Philip went on:
"Our acquaintance was a short one, count. It was some four yearsago, at Agen, that I met you, and had the misfortune to havetrouble with your cousin, Count Raoul; but short as it was, it wassufficient to show me that you were a gentleman of heart, and toencourage me, now, to throw myself on your generosity."
"Are you the gentleman who fought my cousin, and afterwards escapedfrom the castle?" the count asked, in surprise.
"I am, count. I am here upon no plot or conspiracy, but simply toendeavour to ascertain the fate of my cousin, Francois de Laville,who was with the King of Navarre on that fearful night, a fortnightsince. His mother is distracted at hearing no news of him, while tome he is as a brother.
"I effected my own escape, and have, as you see, returned indisguise to ascertain his fate. I am unable to obtain a list ofthose who were murdered and, seeing you, I felt that it would besafe to rely upon your honour, and to ask you to give me the news Irequire. I will fall back now, for it might be thought strange thata noble should be talking to a peasant; but I pray you to lead theway to some quiet spot, where I can speak with you unnoticed."
"My lodging is in the next street. Follow me, and I will take youup to my room."
As soon as they had entered the lodging, the count said:
"You are not deceived. I am incapable of betraying a trust imposedupon me. I bear you no malice for the slaying of my cousin; forindeed, the quarrel was not of your seeking. Still less do I feelhostility towards you on the ground of your religion; for I doubtnot, from what you say, that you are of the Reformed faith. Ilament, most deeply and bitterly, the events that have takenplace--events which dishonour our nation in the eyes of all Europe.I have not the pleasure of knowing your name."
"I am the Chevalier Philip Fletcher, an Englishman by birth, thoughrelated on my mother's side to the family of the Count de Laville."
"I have heard your name, sir, as that of one of the bravestgentlemen in the following of Admiral Coligny.
"Now, as to your cousin; his fate is uncertain. He was certainlycut down by the hired wretches of the Guises. They passed on insearch of other victims, believing him to be dead; but his body wasnot afterwards found, and the general opinion is that he eitherrecovered and crawled away, and is still in some hiding place, orthat he is concealed somewhere in the palace itself. Search wasmade next day, but without success. Some think he may have reachedthe streets, and been there killed; and his body, like so manyothers, thrown into the Seine. I trust that this is not the case,but I have no grounds for bidding you hope."
"At any rate, you have given me cause to hope, sir, and I thank youheartily. It is something to know that he is not certainly dead.
"Can you tell me on which side of the palace was his chamber? I sawhim there frequently, but did not, on any occasion, go with him tohis room."
"It was on the side facing the river. It was near that of the Kingof Navarre."
"Thank you, count. It is but a small clue with which to commence mysearch, but it is at least something. You say that the palaceitself has been searched?"
"Yes. On the following morning it was thoroughly searched forfugitives in hiding; but for all that he may be concealed there, bysome servant whose goodwill he had gained.
"Is there anything else that I can tell you? I may say that I have,personally, no influence whatever at court. I have never failed toexpress myself strongly, in reference to the policy of persecution;and I am only here, now, in obedience to the royal orders topresent myself at court."
"There is nothing else, count. I thank you most sincerely, forhaving thus respected my disguise, and for the news you have givenme."
Philip returned to the Louvre and joined Pierre, who wasimpatiently waiting.
"I followed you for some distance, sir; but when I saw you addressthe count, and then follow quietly behind him, I saw you wereright, and that he was to be trusted; and so returned to await yourcoming. Have you obtained any sure news from him?"
Philip repeated his conversation with the count.
"I will wager he is hidden somewhere in the palace," Pierre said."Badly wounded as he must have been, he could not have hoped tomake his escape through the streets, knowing no one who would havedared to give him refuge. It is far more likely that some of thepalace servants came upon him, just as he was recovering, and hidhim away. He was always bright and pleasant, fond of a jest, and itmay well be that some woman or other took pity on him. The questionis, how are we to find out who she is?"
"It is as likely to be a man as a woman, Pierre."
"No," Pierre said positively. "Women are wonderfully tenderhearted, and are not so afraid of consequences as men are. A manmight feel some pity, at seeing a gentleman so sorely wounded, buthe would not risk his own life to shelter him; while any womanwould do it, without hesitation. It may be a lady of noble family,or a poor kitchen wench, but that it is a woman I would wager mylife."
"It seems hopeless to try to find out who it is," Philip saiddespondently.
"Not hopeless, sir, though doubtless difficult. With yourpermission, I
will undertake this part of the task. I will getmyself up as a workman out of employment--and there are manysuch--and will hang about near that little gate. It is theservants' entrance, and I shall be able to watch every woman thatcomes out."
"But what good will watching do?"
"It may do no good, sir, but yet it may help. A woman, with such asecret as that on her mind, will surely show some signs of it uponher face. She will either have a scared look, or an anxious look.She will not walk with an easy step."
"Well, there is something in what you say, Pierre. At any rate, Ican think of nothing better."
The next morning Pierre took up his position opposite the gate, buthad no news that night to report to his master; nor had he on thesecond or third; but on the fourth, he returned radiant.
"Good news, master. The count is alive, and I have found him."
Philip sprung from his settle, and grasped his faithful follower bythe hand.
"Thank God for the news, Pierre. I had almost given up hope. Howdid you discover him?"
"Just as I expected, sir. I have seen, in the last three days,scores of women come out; but none of them needed a second look.Some were intent on their own finery, others were clearly bent onshopping. Some looked up and down the street, for a lover who oughtto have been waiting for them. Not one of these had a secret oflife and death on her mind.
"But this afternoon there came out a young woman with a pale face,and an anxious look. She glanced nervously up and down the street,not as one expecting to meet a friend, but as if she feared anenemy. After a moment's hesitation, she crossed the road and walkedalong with an indecisive air; more than once glancing behind her,as if afraid of being followed.
"'This is my lady,' I said to myself and, keeping some distancebehind and on the opposite side of the road, I followed her.
"She soon turned off into a side street. Once or twice she paused,looked into a shop, hesitated, and then went on again. You may besure I marked the spots, and was not surprised to find that, ineach case, it was an apothecary's before which she had hesitated.
"At last, after looking round again timidly, she entered one; andwhen I came up, I also went in. She gave a nervous start. I askedto be supplied with a pot of salve for a wound, and the man helpedme from one he had just placed on the counter before him. I paidfor it, and left.
"Two or three minutes later, I saw her come out. Whatever she hadbought, she had hidden it under her cloak. Up to this time she hadwalked fast, but she now loitered, and looked at the waresdisplayed on the stalls.
"'You are in no hurry to go back,' I said to myself. 'You have gotwhat you wanted, and you do not wish to attract attention, byreturning to the palace after so short an absence.'
"At last, when she was in a quiet spot, I walked quickly up to her.
"'Mademoiselle,' I said, taking off my hat, 'I am a friend of thegentleman for whom you have bought that salve, and other matters.'
"She became very white, but she said stoutly:
"'I don't know what you are talking about, sir; and if you molest amodest young woman in the streets, I shall appeal to the townconstables for protection.'
"'I repeat,' I said, 'that I am a friend of the gentleman for whomyou have just bought the materials for dressing his wounds. I amthe servant of his cousin, the Chevalier Fletcher; and the name ofyour patient is Count Francois de Laville.'
"She looked at me, stupefied with astonishment, and stammered:
"'How do you know that?'
"'It is enough, mademoiselle, that I know it,' I said. 'My masterand I have come to Paris, expressly to find Monsieur de Laville;and when we have found him, to aid him to make his escape. Do nothesitate to confide in me, for only so shall we succeed in theobject of our journey.'
"'What is your master's Christian name?' she asked, still doubtful.
"'It is Philip,' I said.
"She clasped her hands together.
"'The good God be praised!' she exclaimed. 'It was of Philip hespoke, when he was so ill. He was unconscious. Surely it is He thathas sent you to me. It has been terrible for me to bear my secret,alone.'
"'Let us walk farther,' I said, 'before you tell me more. There aretoo many people passing here; and if they notice the tears on yourcheeks, they may suspect me of ill treating you, and may asktroublesome questions.'
"After a few minutes' walk, we came to a quiet square.
"'Let us sit down on this stone seat,' I said. 'We can talk freelyhere. Now, tell me all about it.'
"'I am one of the bedmakers of the palace, and it fell to me tosweep the room occupied by the Count de Laville. Once or twice hecame in, while I was there, and spoke pleasantly; and I thoughtwhat a handsome fellow he was, and said to myself what a pity itwas that he was a heretic. When that terrible night came, we wereall aroused from our sleep, and many of us ran down in a fright tosee what was the matter. We heard shouts, and cries, and theclashing of swords.
"'As I passed Monsieur de Laville's room, the door was open. Ilooked in. Three soldiers lay dead on the floor, and near them thecount, whom I thought was also dead. I ran to him, and lifted hishead, and sprinkled water on his face from a flagon on the table.He opened his eyes, and made an effort to get to his feet. I wasfrightened out of my life at it all, and I said to him:
"'"What does it all mean, monsieur?"
"'"It is a massacre," he said, faintly. "Do you not hear the firingin the streets, and the din in the palace? They will return andfinish me. I thank you for what you have done, but it is useless."
"'Then I thought for a moment.
"'"Can you walk, monsieur?"
"'"Barely," he replied.
"'"Lean on my shoulder, monsieur," I said. "I will help you up thestairs. I know of a place where you may lie concealed."
"'With great difficulty I helped him up a staircase that was butlittle used, and got him to the top. Several times he said: "It isof no use; I am wounded to death!" but he still held on.
"'I slept in a little garret in the roof, with two other servants,and at the end of the passage was a large lumber store. It was intothis that I took him. Nobody ever went there, and it was safe,except in case of special search. I laid him down, and then movedsome of the heavy cabinets and chests, at the farther end, a shortdistance from the wall, so that there would be space enough for himto lie behind them. Here I made a bed, with some old cushions fromthe couches; got him into the place, first bandaging his wounds, aswell as I could in the faint light that came in through a dormerwindow. I fetched a jug of water from my room, and placed it besidehim; and then moved the furniture, so as to close up the spot atwhich he had entered. Against it I piled up tables and chairs; sothat, to anyone who did not examine it very closely, it would seemthat the heavy furniture was against the wall.
"'There he has been, ever since. Two or three times a day I havemanaged to steal away from my work, to carry him water and foodthat I brought from the kitchen, when we went down to our meals.For a time, I thought he would die; for four days he did not knowme. He talked much to himself and, several times, he mentioned thename of Philip, and called upon him to aid him against themurderers. Fortunately he was so weak that he could not speak muchabove a whisper, and there was no fear of his voice being heard.
"'The day after I hid him, the whole palace was searched to see ifany Huguenots were concealed. But up in the attics they searchedbut carelessly, seeing that we slept three or four in each room,and no one could well be hidden there without all knowing it. Theydid enter the lumber room. But I had carefully washed the floorwhere he had lain and, as I could not get out the stains of blood,I pushed some heavy chests over them.
"'I was in my room when they searched the lumber room, and my heartstood still until I heard them come out, and knew that they hadfound nothing.
"'For the last ten days, the count has gained strength. His woundsare still very sore and painful, but they are beginning to heal. Ihave bought wine for him, and can always manage to conceal enoughfood, from the table, to suffice for
his wants. He can walk now,though feebly; and spoke to me but today about making his escape.
"'It would be easy enough to get him out of the palace, if I had alackey's attire for him. I could lead him down private staircasestill near the door from which we come out of the palace. But I hadlittle money, for I had sent off most of my wages to my mother,only a day or two before the royal wedding. Still, we might havemanaged that; I could have borrowed some, on some pretence orother.
"'He is, however, too weak to travel, and the effort to do so mightcause his wounds to burst out afresh; but now that his cousin hascome, all will be well.'
"'Where is he wounded?' I asked.
"'He has four wounds. One is on the head; another on the neck; oneis a stab in the body, that must have narrowly missed his heart;and the other is a sword thrust, through his arm.
"'But how, monsieur, did you know,' she asked, 'that it is I whohave hidden the count?'
"I told her that I had been watching for four days, feeling surethat the count was hidden in the palace; but hers was the firstface that showed anxiety, and that, when I saw her buying salve atthe apothecary's, I felt sure that it was she who was shelteringthe count."
"And have you arranged anything, Pierre?" Philip asked anxiously.
"Only this much, sir, that tomorrow evening, as soon as it is dark,she will leave the palace with Monsieur Francois. That will give usplenty of time to make our plans, which will be easy enough. Wehave but to take an apartment, and bring him up into it. No oneneed know that there are more than ourselves there, and we cannurse him for a few days, until he is fit to ride.
"Then we have only to get him a disguise like that in which weentered. We can hide him in the wood, go on to where we hid ourclothes, put them on instead of our disguises, enter Saint Cloud,go on to Versailles, fetch the three horses, and return tohim--with, of course, a suit of clothes for himself."
There was no difficulty in hiring two rooms in a quiet street.Suits of clothes suitable for a court lackey were purchased, andthese were given by Pierre to the girl, when she came out in theafternoon. Philip had accompanied Pierre to meet her.
"My good girl," he said, "I cannot tell you how deeply I feel thekindness that you have shown my cousin. You have risked your life tosave him; and that, I am sure, without the smallest thought of reward.Still, so good an action must not pass without acknowledgment, thoughno money can express the amount of our gratitude to you."
"I do not want to be paid, sir," she said. "I had no thought ofmoney."
"I know that," Philip replied; "but you must allow us to show ourgratitude, in the only way we can. In the first place, what is yourname?"
"Annette Riolt, sir."
"Well, Annette, here are fifty crowns in this purse. It is all thatI can spare, at present; but be assured the Countess de Lavillewill send you, at the first opportunity, a sum that will be a gooddot for you, when you find a husband. If the messenger by whom itis sent asks for you by your name, at the door of the palace bywhich you usually leave it, will he obtain access to you?"
"Yes, sir. The porter at the door knows me; and if he should bechanged, whoever is there will inquire of the maids, if he asks forAnnette Riolt, one of the chamber women in the north wing of thepalace."
"Very well, Annette. You may rely that a messenger will come. Icannot say how soon; that must depend on other circumstances. Wheredo you come from?"
"From Poitiers, sir. My parents live on a little farm called LaMachoir, two miles north of the city."
"Then, Annette, the best thing for you to do is to leave yourpresent employment, and to journey down home. It will be easy tosend from La Rochelle to Poitiers, and unless the place isbesieged, as it is likely to be before long, you will soon hearfrom us. Probably the messenger will have visited the farm beforeyou reach it."
"I will do that, sir," the girl said gratefully. "I never likedthis life, and since that terrible night I have scarcely had anysleep. I seem to hear noises and cries, just as they say the kingdoes, and shall be indeed glad to be away.
"But I cannot come out with the count, this evening. We only getout once in five days, and it was only as a special favour I havebeen let out, now. I will come with him to the door, talking withhim as if he were a lackey of my acquaintance."
At the hour agreed upon Philip and Pierre, stationed a few yardsfrom the door, saw a man and woman appear. The girl made somelaughing remark, and then went back into the palace. The man cameout. He made two quick steps and then stumbled, and Philip ranforward, and grasped him firmly under the arm.
"You were just in time, Philip," Francois said, with a feeblelaugh, "another step and I should have been down. I am weaker thanI thought I was, and the fresh air is well-nigh too much for me.
"I have had a close shave of it, Philip; and have been nearerdeath, in that attic up there, than I ever was on a field ofbattle. What a good little woman that was! I owe my life to her.
"It is good of you coming here to find me, old fellow. You arealways getting me out of scrapes. You remember that affair atToulouse.
"Thank you, Pierre, but mind, that arm you have got hold of is theweak one.
"Now, how far have we got to go, Philip? For I warn you, I amnearly at the end of my strength."
"We will get into a quiet street first, Francois, and there youshall have a drink, from a flask of excellent wine I have here.Then we will help you along. You can lean as heavily as you likeupon us. You are no great weight, now; and anyone who notices ushelping you will suppose that we are conveying a drunken comrade tohis home."
But in spite of all the assistance they could give him, Francoiswas terribly exhausted when he reached the lodging. Here Philip andPierre bandaged his wounds, far more securely and firmly than hisnurse had been able to do; and the next morning, when he awoke, hedeclared himself ready to start at once.
It was a week, however, before Philip would hear of his making suchan effort; but by that time, good eating and drinking had done somuch for him that he thought he would be able to stand the fatigueof the journey, and the next morning they started. Disguised aspeasants, they passed out through the gates unquestioned. Francoiswas left in the wood, with the clothes they had purchased for him.The others then went on and found their bundles undisturbed,obtained their three horses at Versailles and, riding back, soonhad Francois mounted.
The wound on his head was so far healed that it was no longernecessary to bandage it, and although he looked pale and weak,there was nothing about him to attract special notice. Theyjourneyed by easy stages south, lengthening the distances graduallyas Francois gained strength; and riding fast, towards the end, soas to reach La Rochelle before an army, under Marshal Biron, satdown before it.
It was evening when they arrived, and after putting up their horsesthey made their way to Monsieur Bertram's. Philip mounted thestairs, leaving Francois to follow him, slowly.
"I shall not take more than two or three minutes to break the news,but I must prepare your mother a little, Francois. She has not saidmuch, but I know she had but little hope, though she bore up sobravely."
The countess was sitting, with Claire and the merchant's daughter.It was the first time Philip had seen Mademoiselle de Valecourt,since they first arrived at La Rochelle. She was dressed now indeep mourning. A flush of bright colour spread over her face, asPhilip entered.
As in duty bound, he turned first to the countess and saluted heraffectionately; and then turned to Claire, and would have kissedher hand, but the countess said:
"Tut, tut, Philip, that is not the way to salute your betrothed."
And Philip, drawing her to him, kissed her for the first time sincethey had betrothed themselves to each other in the hut in Paris;and then saluted Mademoiselle Bertram.
"We have been under no uneasiness respecting you, Philip," thecountess said; "for Claire and myself both look upon you as havinga charmed life. Has your mission been successful?"
"It has, aunt, beyond my hopes. And first, I must ask your pardonfor having
deceived you."
"Deceived me, Philip! In what way?"
"My mission was an assumed one," Philip said; "and in reality,Pierre and I journeyed to Paris."
A cry broke from the countess's lips.
"To Paris, Philip! And your mission has been successful? You haveheard something?"
"I have done more, aunt, I have found him."
"The Lord be praised for all His mercies!" burst from the lips ofthe countess, and she threw herself on Philip's neck, and burstinto a passion of tears, the first she had shed since he broughtthe news from Paris.
"Courage, aunt," Philip whispered.
He glanced towards the door. Claire understood him, and ran to openit. Francois came quietly in.
"Mother," he said, and the countess, with a cry of joy, ran intohis arms.
The French army appeared before the town on the following day, andthe siege was at once commenced. With Marshal Biron were the dukesof Anjou and Alencon, the King of Navarre, and the Prince of Conde,who had been compelled to accompany him.
The siege made little progress. The defences were strong, and theHuguenots were not content only to repel assaults, but made fiercesallies, causing a considerable loss to the besiegers.
To the surprise of the defenders, they heard that the Count de laNoue had arrived in camp, with a mission from the king. He hadremained a captive, in the camp of the Duke of Alva, after thesurrender of Mons; and so had happily escaped the massacre of SaintBartholomew. He had then been released, and had gone to France toarrange his ransom.
The king, who was now tormented with remorse, sent for him; andentreated him, as a personal favour, to go as his Commissioner toLa Rochelle, and to endeavour to bring about a cessation ofhostilities, authorizing him to grant almost any terms. De la Noueundertook the task unwillingly, and only upon condition that hewould be no party to inducing them to surrender, unless perfectlysatisfied with the guarantees for the observance of any treaty thatmight be made.
When a flag of truce came forward, and announced that Monsieur dela Noue had arrived on the part of the king, the news was at firstreceived with incredulity. Then there was a burst of indignation,at what was considered the treachery of the count. He was refusedpermission to enter the town but, after some parleying, a partywent out to have an interview with him outside the gate.
The meeting was unsatisfactory. Some of the citizens pretended thatthey did not recognize De la Noue, saying that the person they knewwas a brave gentleman, faithful to his religion, and one whocertainly would not be found in a Catholic camp.
A few days later, however, the negotiations were renewed. The countpointed out that they could not hope, finally, to resist the wholeforce of France; and that it would be far better for them to maketerms, now, than when in an extremity. But he was able to give noguarantees that were considered acceptable by the citizens.
De la Noue's position was exceedingly difficult. But at last thecitizens perceived that he was still loyal to the cause; and as hehad, beforehand, received the king's authority to accept thegovernorship of the town, the people of La Rochelle agreed toreceive him in that position, provided that no troops entered withhim.
The negotiations fell through, and the siege was renewed withvigour, De la Noue now taking the lead in the defence, his militaryexperience being of immense assistance. Very many of the nobles andgentlemen in the Catholic army were present, as a matter of duty.They fought with the usual gallantry of their race, but for themost part abhorred the massacre of Saint Bartholomew; and were asstrongly of opinion as were the Huguenots of France, and theProtestants throughout Europe, that it was an indelible disgraceupon France.
Their feeling was shown in many ways. Among others, Maurevel, themurderer of De Mouy, and the man who had attempted the assassinationof the Admiral, having accompanied the Duke of Anjou to the camp, noone would associate with him or suffer him to encamp near, or even goon guard with him into the trenches; and the duke was, in consequence,obliged to appoint him to the command of a small fort which waserected on the seashore.
Incessant fighting went on, but the position was a singular one.The Duke of Alencon had been an unwilling spectator of the massacreof Saint Bartholomew. He was jealous of Anjou, and restless anddiscontented, and he contemplated going over to the Huguenots. TheKing of Navarre and his cousin Conde, and the Huguenot gentlemenwith him, were equally anxious to leave the camp, where they wereclosely watched; and De la Noue, while conducting the defence,occasionally visited the royal camp and endeavoured to bring abouta reconciliation.
He was much rejoiced, on his first arrival at the city, to findboth Francois and Philip there; for he had believed that both hadfallen in the massacre. He took great interest in Philip's loveaffair, and made inquiries in the royal camp; where he learned thatMademoiselle de Valecourt was supposed to have perished with herfather, in the massacre; and that the estates had already beenbestowed, by the king, on one of his favourites.
"I should say that, if our cause should finally triumph, a portionat least of her estates will be restored to her; but in that casethe king would certainly claim to dispose of her hand."
"I care nothing for the estates, nor does she," Philip said. "Shewill go with me to England, as soon as the fighting here is over;and if things look hopeless, we shall embark, and endeavour tobreak through the blockade by the king's ships. Even had she theestates, she would not remain in France, which has become hatefulto her. She is now fully restored to health, and we shall shortlybe married."
When De la Noue next went out to the French camp, he sent adespatch to the king, saying that Mademoiselle de Valecourt hadescaped the massacre and was in La Rochelle. He pointed out that,as long as she lived, the Huguenots would, if at any time theybecame strong enough to make terms, insist upon the restoration ofher estates, as well as those of others that had been confiscated.He said that he had had an interview with her, and had learned thatshe intended, if a proper provision should be secured for her, toretire to England. He therefore prayed his majesty, as a favour tohim and as an act of justice, to require the nobleman to whom hehad granted the estates to pay her a handsome sum, when she wouldmake a formal renunciation of the estates in his favour.
A month later he received the royal answer, saying that the kinghad graciously taken the case of Mademoiselle de Valecourt into hisconsideration, that he had spoken to the nobleman to whom he hadgranted her estate, and to the Duke of Guise, whose near relativehe was; and that these noblemen had placed in his hands the sum often thousand livres, for which was enclosed an order, payable bythe treasury of the army upon the signatures of Monsieur de la Noueand Mademoiselle de Valecourt, and upon the handing over of thedocument of renunciation signed by her.
Monsieur de la Noue had told Philip nothing of these negotiationsbut, having obtained from Claire the necessary signature he, oneevening, on his return from the royal camp, came into the roomwhere they were sitting, followed by two servants carrying small,but heavy bags.
"Mademoiselle," he said, when the servants had placed these on thetable and retired, "I have pleasure in handing you these.
"Philip, Mademoiselle de Valecourt will not come to you as adowerless bride, which indeed would be a shame for a daughter of soold and noble a family. Mademoiselle has signed a formalrenunciation of her rights to the estates of her late father and,by some slight good offices on my part, his majesty has obtainedfor her, from the man to whom he has granted the estates ofValecourt, the sum of ten thousand livres--a poor fraction, indeed,of the estates she should have inherited; and yet a considerablesum, in itself."
A week later, Sir Philip Fletcher and Claire de Valecourt weremarried in the principal church of La Rochelle. The Count de laNoue, as a friend and companion-in-arms of her father, gave heraway; and all the Huguenot noblemen and gentlemen in the town werepresent. Three weeks later, a great assault upon the bastion ofL'Evangile having been repulsed, the siege languished; thebesieging army having suffered greatly, both from death in thetrenches and assaults, and by the a
ttacks of fever.
The Count of Montgomery arrived from England, with somereinforcements. De la Noue resigned to him the governorship, andleft the city. The Prince of Anjou, shortly afterwards, receivedthe crown of Poland; and left the camp, with a number of nobles, toproceed to his new kingdom; and the army became so weakened thatthe siege was practically discontinued and, the blockading fleetbeing withdrawn, Philip and his wife took passage in a ship forEngland, Pierre accompanying them.
"I may come some day with Francois, Philip," the countess said,"but not till I see that the cause is altogether lost. Still I havefaith that we shall win tolerance. They say that the king is mad.Anjou has gone to Poland. Alencon is still unmarried. I believethat it is God's will that Henry of Navarre should come to thethrone of France, and if so, there will be peace and toleration inFrance. So long as a Huguenot sword is unsheathed, I shall remainhere."
Philip had written to acquaint his father and mother of hismarriage, and his intention to return with his wife as soon as thesiege was over. There was therefore but little surprise, althoughgreat joy, when he arrived. He had sent off Pierre on horseback, assoon as the ship dropped anchor at Gravesend, and followed moreleisurely himself.
They were met, a few miles out of Canterbury, by a messenger fromhis uncle; telling them to ride straight to his new estate, wherehe would be met by his mother and father--the latter of whom hadstarted, the day before, in a litter for the house--and that hisuncle and aunt would also be there.
Upon Philip and Claire's arrival, they were received with muchrejoicing. Monsieur Vaillant had sent round messengers to all thetenantry to assemble, and had taken over a number of his workmen,who had decorated the avenue leading to the house with flags, andthrown several arches across it.
"It is a small place in comparison to Valecourt, Claire," Philipsaid, as they drove up to the house.
"It is a fine chateau, Philip; but now that I have you, it wouldnot matter to me were it but a hut.
"And oh, what happiness to think that we have done with persecutionand terror and war, and that I may worship God freely and openly!He has been good to me, indeed; and if I were not perfectly happy,I should be the most ungrateful of women."
Claire's dowry was spent in enlarging the estate, and Philip becameone of the largest landowners in the county. He went no more to thewars, save that, when the Spanish armada threatened the religionand freedom of England, he embarked as a volunteer in one ofDrake's ships, and took part in the fierce fighting that freedEngland for ever from the yoke of Rome, and in no small degreeaided both in securing the independence of Protestant Holland, andof seating Henry of Navarre firmly upon the throne of France.
Save to pay two or three visits to Philip and her sisters, theCountess de Laville and her son did not come to England. Francoisfought at Ivry and the many other battles that took place, beforeHenry of Navarre became undisputed King of France; and then becameone of the leading nobles of his court.
Philip settled a small pension on the four men-at-arms who hadfollowed his fortunes and shared his perils, and they returned totheir native Gascony; where they settled down, two being no longerfit for service, and the others having had enough fighting for alifetime.
The countess had, soon after Francois returned to La Rochelle, senta sum of money, to the girl who had saved his life, that sufficedto make her the wealthiest heiress in her native village in Poitou;and she married a well-to-do farmer, the countess herself standingas godmother to their first child, to their immeasurable pride andgratification.
Pierre remained to the end of his life in Philip's service, takingto himself an English wife, and being a great favourite with thechildren of Philip and Claire, who were never tired of listening tothe adventures he had gone through, with their father and mother,in the religious wars in France.
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