CHAPTER XXX
THE CROWNING OF ROGER HERRICK
The people loudly demanded the death of Count Felix, the noblesstrongly advised it. Judgment by his peers would certainly have sealedthe Count's fate. With the assembling of the nobles in Vayenne anotherdemand had become insistent. There was peace upon the frontier, peacein the city; it was time that the coronation was completed, that theDuke should wear the iron crown in the Church of St. Etienne.
From the first Herrick had determined to save Felix if he could. Deathhad been busy since his coming to Vayenne, and although without hispresence in the city civil war would undoubtedly have come, he couldnot feel that this fact shifted the responsibility from his shoulders.The death of Father Bertrand seemed to be the direct result of his ownwords. He had stood reproved, and he felt justly so, before thesoldier who had repeated them. To cut down a villain who deliberatelystabs a defenceless man was no crime, but this man had some reason tosuppose that he was only fulfilling the Duke's wishes, so that eventhis act of ready justice troubled Herrick in some degree. Thereshould be no more violent deaths if he could help it, and it was anaccident that Jean's murderer, the man possibly who most meriteddeath, was still alive and should be the one to receive mercy. Herrickshrank from condemning the Count. He found a hundred excuses for theman. Besides, he had made a promise to Christine.
Nor was Herrick surprised that his coronation in St. Etienne should bedemanded. He had expected that when the nobles assembled in Vayenne;they would insist upon it. They had come to offer publicly thesubmission they had hitherto withheld, and Herrick's promise to appealto the nation, and not to remain Duke unless three-fourths of hissubjects should desire him to do so, was now a mere form. The wholestate was with him, and it was at this moment that he put his hand to,perhaps, the most difficult task he had yet attempted. He began byusing the approaching coronation as an excuse for putting off CountFelix's death. It was a ceremony that must not be stained with blood,he argued, even though that blood be a criminal's, and seeing in thisargument a promise that justice should eventually be done, the peopleforgot the Count for a time. Then Herrick chose to be punctiliousconcerning the bargain he had made with the nobles. They had comeloyally forward in answer to his appeal; they had fought, and some hadfallen, in defence of their country, right well had they fulfilledtheir part; it remained for him to fulfil his. Therefore they shouldmeet him in the great hall, and the day and hour he fixed coincidedwith the day and hour that Christine and Maurice would enter Vayenne.
On the day before, Herrick called into council a dozen of the oldestand most powerful nobles in Montvilliers, and this private meeting wasof many hours' duration. Herrick believed that he had estimated to thefull the difficulty of his task. He was wrong. For hours the councilrefused to support him in his scheme. It was not for the country'sgood, they said, it was not the will of the people. Very hardly, andby making many promises, Herrick persuaded them to uphold him; yetthey did so with shaking of heads and loud words of regret. The gravefaces of the councillors as they left the Duke's room causedexcitement in the castle, and rumor flew about the city.
So it happened that there were few people in the streets at the lowerend of the city when Christine returned with Maurice to Vayenne, butcrowds had gathered in the neighborhood of the castle, and it was withdifficulty that the cavalcade passed through.
In the court-yard Pierre Briant met them, and informed Maurice that hewas to go at once to the Duke with Captain Lemasle, and then turningto Christine, he went on:
"Mademoiselle, I am to inform you that the Duke gives audience in anhour in the great hall. He desires your presence. A special place hasbeen reserved for you. I am to await your pleasure and conduct youthere."
When presently Christine entered the hall it was crowded from end toend, even as it had been that night when Roger Herrick had claimed thethrone. Now the afternoon light was in it and men's faces showed thatthere was suppressed excitement on every side. A seat had been placedfor Christine close to the small door by which she had entered. PierreBriant remained beside her, and two or three soldiers stood near, whokept the crowd from her. She was so placed that she had a clear viewof the dais, but in an angle of the wall, which screened her from mostof the people in the hall. Was she still a prisoner, she wondered. Italmost seemed so, yet this great gathering could hardly concern herparticularly. If it had done, a more prominent place would have beengiven her.
What was to happen? There were whisperings about her, but it seemedevident that most of those near her were as ignorant as she washerself. Near the dais she noted that some of the oldest and mostpowerful nobles were standing together, a little apart from theothers. She had heard some whisper about a council held yesterday;these men were likely to have formed that council. She saw Lemaslestanding near the door by which the Duke would enter. He must knowsomething of what was to happen, and it evidently pleased him not atall, for a set frown was upon his face. He had gone with Maurice tothe Duke, and must have been told something privately.
Suddenly Lemasle drew himself up to attention, and, saluting, cried instentorian voice:
"The Duke!"
It was thrilling to hear the great shout that spontaneously rang tothe rafters as Roger Herrick entered. Maurice was beside him, andseemed to shrink back a little at that shout. Herrick leaned towardhim, and whispered a few words in his ear. They had the effect ofsteadying Maurice, who took his place at the foot of the dais,standing near the council, who all looked at him furtively, as Herrickmounted to the chair. Herrick did not seat himself in it, he stoodbeside it, his hand resting upon the arm, and Christine noticed thathe was pale, and could almost fancy that he trembled a little.
"My lords, and men of Vayenne, you are here in order that I may fulfilthe promise made to the nobles of Montvilliers when I appealed to themto drop for a while their quarrel with me, and stand with me indefence of our country."
"Now wear the iron crown--our chosen Duke," a voice cried, andimmediately the hall was filled with shouting again.
"But you are here also for another purpose," said Herrick slowly whensilence was restored, "a purpose that it is difficult for me to speakof, so I pray you listen to me without interruption and with patience.Yesterday I called together a council, and told them what was in mymind. It is now for you to hear it, and through you the whole of thisland of Montvilliers. It is within your memory how I claimed thisthrone; many of you since then have traced my descent, some of youhave admitted the right of it, some of you in your hearts still doubtit. But even with those who doubt, two things have weighed in myfavor: the fact that I have been of service to the state, and thatCount Felix was disliked by most of you."
Again there was shouting, but it ended quickly lest a word of theDuke's should be lost.
"Had Count Felix been a just and honorable man, had he been loved byyou, I should never have claimed this throne as I did, and if I had, Ishould never have succeeded in mounting it. I should have been cutdown on the steps of it as a traitor."
A voice said "No," but there was silence, a hanging upon the Duke'swords.
"My claim was not so strong that it could have stood against CountFelix's had he been a just man. Much less would it have stood hadyoung Count Maurice, Duke Robert's son, son of the man you, or yourfathers, had claimed as Duke, been alive."
"Maurice is dead," some one shouted.
"I knew more about Count Felix than you did. I told you something ofwhat I knew that night. I loved this country, and I took the throneto save it from such a Duke as Felix."
"Now wear the iron crown in St. Etienne," came the cry, and once morethe shouts rang to the rafters.
"But I did not tell you all I knew of Count Felix," Herrick continued."He plotted to have his cousin assassinated on his way from Passey; hebrought a disfigured body, and buried it here in St. Etienne, but itwas not his cousin's, and he knew it. As you know, I fought in theyoung Count's defence. He and I struck good blows side by side. He waswounded, his horse shot from under him, and
I caught him up onto myown. Thus I rode through the forest, escaping those who pursued us.Then, as I kneeled to dress his wounds by a stream, a band of realrobbers fell upon us. Me they bound to a tree, where I was afterwardfound by Mademoiselle de Liancourt and Captain Lemasle; him theyrecognized, and sold to his enemies--your enemies--those we havefought with on the frontier. I knew not then whether he was dead oralive. I did not know then where he was. I only knew that the bodyFelix had buried was not his. I only knew that nothing stood in theway of Felix mounting this throne, so I took it. Dare I at that timecast a single doubt upon my right by saying that after all the youngCount might be alive?"
Herrick paused, but none answered him.
"But one of my first cares was to find out his fate for certain," hewent on, "and from a hag in the forest I heard what had happened tohim, learned that he was in a tower by Larne. Some of you know how weattacked that tower and released a prisoner. Few knew that it was theyoung Count Maurice. He is alive. He is here."
Herrick beckoned to Maurice, and taking his hand, drew him up besidehim.
"My lords, and men of Vayenne," Herrick said, raising his voice alittle, "you have heard of the pale scholar of Passey, and in yourhearts despised him, perhaps because he was not such a man as hisfather was. Truly he is a scholar, and that shall make him wise incounsel and in judgment, but he is something more. He has fought sideby side with me, and I know him for a brave soldier, a man worthy tobe your Duke."
Immediately there was tumult in the hall.
"Long live Duke Roger! We will have no Duke but Duke Roger!"
"You have failed," Maurice whispered. "Let me go down, and shout yourname with them, lest they hate me."
"Hear me!" Herrick cried. "Do you imagine I would vacate this thronefor any man who was unworthy? I love this land too well for that. Butthis man is worthy. His claim is a prior claim to mine. He is yourlawful Duke. Would you make a dishonorable man of me?"
"Roger is Duke!" they shouted.
"Let me go down," whispered Maurice.
"Yet hear me," cried Herrick. "I was an alien to you, born in anotherland, bred in another land, yet in the truest sense is Montvilliers mycountry. To the council I called together, to the young Count, I havemade promises. In this state I have made my home, I will accept anyhonor this state shall choose to give me. I will walk a prince amongyou. I will stand by the throne. I will lend my counsel to your Duke.And if enemies thunder at our gates I will be in the midst of you tofight in their defence. All this have I promised, all this will I dofor Montvilliers, my country--our country. My lords, men of Vayenne,give me leave to be an honorable man."
The shouting and the tumult had sunk to silence.
"You give me leave," said Herrick, and at a sign from him a priestmounted the dais, and stood by the chair. Almost before the crowdrealized what he was doing, he had put to Maurice the three questionsof the civil coronation.
Then Maurice turned toward that sea of faces.
"My lords, and men of Vayenne," he said, and his voice was firm andclear, "before you question me, hear me for a moment. If you accept meas Duke, and I have claimed the right by my birth, you call me to aposition that I, of all the Dukes who have ever reigned inMontvilliers, shall find most difficult to fill. I cannot hope to fillthe place of Roger Herrick. I would most willingly have stood amongyou and shouted his name with you; but as that may not be, I promiseyou that I will endeavor to rule by the example he has set. Help me,friends, to make this land worthy of the Duke it loses to-day."
The simple and boyish appeal had its effect, and if the shouting wasnot so spontaneous, so enthusiastic as it had been, it was genuine.
"Now question me as you will," he said.
No voice broke the silence, and after a long pause Maurice went slowlyto the chair, and seated himself, and the priest placed the goldencircle upon his head, commanding that he should presently wear theiron crown in St. Etienne.
Christine had sat leaning eagerly forward in her chair, her handstightly clasped in her lap. So this was the Duke's purpose. He wasvoluntarily giving up everything to her cousin Maurice. She had, infact, brought Maurice to Vayenne to be crowned, even as she had setout to do when she made that other journey to Passey. Yet now,although her lips uttered no sound, in her heart she shouted with thatgreat crowd that Montvilliers could have no other ruler but DukeRoger. Everything about her seemed vague and unreal, only that onecommanding figure stood clearly before her. Not once, so far as shecould tell, had he glanced in her direction; yet a special place hadbeen prepared for her, he must know that she was there.
As the golden circle was placed on Maurice's head Herrick descendedthe dais, but paused on the lower steps, and once more turned to thecrowd.
"Comrades, before I come among you, and with you swear submission tothe Duke, grant me one favor."
"It is yours," they shouted.
"I ask it as your recognition that I have, to the best of my power,served this country," Herrick continued. "If you will, it shall beinstead of all the other honors your Duke may presently wish to giveme."
"Speak. It is yours. It is granted already."
"Give me then the life of Count Felix," said Herrick.
There was a moment's pause, and then sudden anger.
"The Count must die!" they shouted. "Death to Felix!"
"It was my life he sought," Herrick shouted above the tumult.
"Therefore he dies," they cried.
"And you refuse to grant the favor you were so ready to promise?" saidHerrick.
Silence fell again.
"Not every man has known such humiliation as Count Felix," saidHerrick. "As I would not have this coronation stained with blood, sowould I have an act of mercy mark my resignation of power. Let me hereand now pronounce judgment. Banish the Count from this realm for ever.Will you give me the life of Felix?"
Still there was silence.
"There is small generosity in granting an easy favor," Herrickcontinued; "I know I ask a great one, but his death would mean ashadow over my life in the years that are to come. Comrades, for thelove you bear me, grant me the Count's life."
"Take it! Banish him! Let him go quickly!"
The answer came slowly. The favor was granted unwillingly, so much didthey hate the Count. That it was granted at all showed their love forthe man who asked it.
"I thank you, comrades," said Herrick, stepping down from the dais."Long live Duke Maurice! My lord, let me be the first to kneel andswear my loyalty and service."
As the crowd had granted Herrick's request for the Count's life,Christine rose quickly from her chair.
"Am I allowed to go?" she said to Briant.
"Yes, Mademoiselle. I was ordered to await your pleasure."
She went hastily to her rooms, still a prisoner it seemed, for PierreBriant followed her to the entrance, and a sentry stood at the door.
Had Herrick's eyes met hers? She thought so once just as she had risenfrom her seat, just as he stepped from the dais, his favor granted. Itwas a relief to be alone, to think, to try and remember and realizeall that had happened. Twilight was gathering fast in the room, butshe would have no lights. She could think more easily in the dark,and presently moonlight would be streaming through the window. So thiswas Herrick's purpose. From the first movement of his power he hadbeen working to this end. Why had he not told her? Would she havebelieved him if he had? Perhaps not. He had asked her to trust him,and she had not done so. He had asked her to listen to an explanation,and she had refused to do so willingly. Ambition was his god, she hadbelieved, and this was the end of it. Only with difficulty, bystrenuous effort, had he persuaded the people to accept Maurice. Hehad won power, respect, love, everything, for what? to hold them insafe keeping for Maurice. Would he come to her now, now that sheunderstood him? And then the color rushed into her cheeks at theremembrance of how she had knelt to him, and offered, yes, offeredherself, and he would not bargain with her. Did he despise her? Yes,surely he must, and he had used her to bring Mauric
e to Vayenne toprove to her to the full how mean she had been, how really great hewas. He might not come to her at all; indeed, why should he? He hadhumbled her, he had kept his promise and saved Felix's life, but hewas not a man to gloat over her discomfiture nor to look for thanks.No, he would not come. Why should he? Maurice would tell her presentlythat she was no longer a prisoner, that she was free to come and go asshe would; and that would be all.
The faint light of the moon was in the room now, and touched her asshe leaned back in her chair, her hands lying idly in her lap. She wasalone in the midst of excitement. The city was alive to-night, thenews was running fast from end to end of it, and Christine could hearfaintly the shouting and the tumult in the streets. There wasexcitement in the castle, quick footsteps constantly in the corridors,the murmur of earnest voices, and the heavy closing and opening ofdoors. There was noise in the court-yard, the flashing of many lights,and whenever there was a lull for a moment Christine could hear theregular pacing of the sentry along the terrace below her window.
Suddenly there came the sound of quick steps in the corridor, without,and Christine rose hurriedly to her feet. He had come. There was therattle of a salute, the door opened, and a soldier announced:
"The Duke!"
"How's this, comrade? I know you for a good soldier, but your wits areout of gear to-night. Even in the dark you should recognize RogerHerrick from the Duke."
The door closed again. Then Herrick went toward the woman standing inthe moonlight, and knelt before her.
"Mademoiselle, you accepted my service. Is it well done?"
"I have no words," she began, and in her agitation she stretched outher hand, which touched his shoulder. Perhaps it was because she hadneed of support that it remained pressing gently there.
"Maurice is Duke; Felix will go in safety," he said quietly; "yet myambition remains unsatisfied. I crave your thanks. Is it well done?"
"You shall not kneel to me," she whispered.
"In St. Etienne I must needs have knelt to receive the iron crown. Myambition mounts higher than that. I think you hated the Duke; Ithought once it was not hate you gave to Roger Herrick."
She bent over him, a hand on each of his shoulders now.
"And to-day," she whispered, "to-day my heart cried louder than all:Roger is Duke. Long life to Duke Roger."
"Crown me, Christine."
"You shall not kneel to me," she said. "I too am proud. I will notbargain with you in this fashion."
"Crown me."
Her hands clasped about his neck.
"Oh, my dearest, if my poor love is the crown you covet, take it, wearit, be my king."
Then Herrick rose. His strong arms were about her; his kiss was on herlips.
"You have crowned me king," he whispered. "You are fettered in thesearms. You are still my prisoner, and I will not let you go."
_His strong arms were about her._]