ANOTHER TRIAL
The disaffection of the Protestants having failed him, there remained
still one more hope of assistance for Gabriel in his thirst for
vengeance; namely, that furnished by the ambition of the Duc de Guise.
Consequently he was very prompt the next morning at ten o'clock in
keeping the appointment François de Lorraine had made with him at the
Tournelles.
It was evident that the young Comte de Montgommery was expected; for as
soon as his name was announced he was shown into the presence of him who
was now called the conqueror of Calais, thanks to Gabriel's daring
scheme.
Le Balafré came eagerly forward to meet him, and grasped both his hands
affectionately.
"Ah, here you are at last, my forgetful friend," said he. "I have been
obliged to send for you, to follow you into your retirement, and if I
had not done so God only knows when I should have seen you! Why is it?
Why have you not been to visit me since my return?"
"Monseigneur," said Gabriel, in a low tone, "much distressing anxiety--"
"Ah! There it is! I was sure of it!" the duke interrupted him. "So they
were false, were they, to the promises they made you h They deceived
you, and insulted and tormented you. Oh, I was very suspicious that
there was some infamy at the bottom of it all! My brother, the Cardinal
de Lorraine, who was present when you arrived at the Louvre from Calais,
and heard you spoken of as the Comte de Montgommery, imagined, with his
priestly keenness, that you were destined to be the dupe or the victim
of those people. Why did you not apply to him? He might have been of
some assistance to you in my absence."
"I thank you, Monseigneur," replied Gabriel, gravely, "but you are
mistaken, I assure you. All their promises to me were redeemed with the
utmost exactitude."
"Oho, but you have such a way of saying it, my friend!"
"I speak as I feel, Monseigneur; but I will repeat that I make no
complaints, and that the promises upon which I relied have been
fulfilled--to the letter. So let us talk no more of my affairs, I beg,
for you know that subject of conversation was never agreeable to
me, and it is to-day more painful than ever. I ask you, Monseigneur, in
pity not to insist upon your kindly meant inquiries."
The duke was struck with Gabriel's dolorous tone.
"Very well, my friend," said he; "I shall be afraid now of touching
unintentionally upon some one of your scarcely healed scars, and I will
question you no further about yourself."
"Thanks, Monseigneur," was Gabriel's reply, in a dignified tone, by no
means free from emotion.
"But I wish you to be sure of this," continued Le Balafré, "that at all
times and places, and for any purpose whatsoever, my influence, my
fortune, and my life are at your service, Gabriel; and that if I am ever
to be so fortunate as that you should need my help, you have but to hold
out your hand to grasp mine."
"Thanks, Monseigneur," Gabriel said again.
"That being agreed between us," said the duke, "on what subject is it
your pleasure that we should converse?"
"Why, of yourself, Monseigneur," replied the young count,--"of your
glory and of your future plans; those are the subjects which interest
rue. In them you will find the magnet which has drawn me to you in all
haste at your first call."
"My glory? my plans for the future?" retorted François de Lorraine,
with a shake of the head. "Alas! those are gloomy subjects of
conversation for me as well."
"What mean you, Monseigneur?" Gabriel exclaimed.
"What I say, my friend. Yes, I confess that I did think I had won some
renown; it seemed to me that my name deserved to be pronounced with some
respect in France to-day, and with a certain degree of awe throughout
Europe. And since my not unworthy past made it my duty to think of the
future, I was forming plans based upon my reputation, and dreaming of
great achievements,--great for my country, and for myself as well. I
would have accomplished them, I have faith to believe--"
"Well, Monseigneur?" said Gabriel, inquiringly.
"Well, Gabriel, since my return to this court six months since, I have
ceased to believe in my glory, and have abandoned all my plans."
"Why so, in God's name?"
"Why, in the first place, don't you know of the shameful treaty with
which they have crowned our victories? If we had been forced to raise
the siege of Calais, if the English still had the gateways of France in
their hands,--in short, if defeat at all points had demonstrated the
insufficiency or incompetency of our forces, and the impossibility of
continuing an unequal conflict, we could not have been asked
to sign a more unfavorable and dishonorable treaty than that of
Cateau-Cambrésis."
"That is true, Monseigneur," Gabriel remarked; "and every one grieves to
think that such a magnificent harvest yielded so little fruit."
"Oh, well," rejoined the duke; "how can you expect me to sow for people
who know so little about reaping? And then, too, have they not forced me
to remain ingloriously idle by this glorious peace of theirs? There is
my sword, doomed for a long time to rust in its scabbard. War everywhere
at an end, at whatever cost, puts an end at the same time to my fair
dreams of glory; and between ourselves that was one of the main objects
sought to be accomplished."
"But you are no less mighty even in this forced inaction, Monseigneur,"
said Gabriel. "You are respected at court, worshipped by the people, and
dreaded by foreign nations."
"Yes, I believe I am beloved at home, and feared abroad," Le Balafré
replied; "but do not tell me, my friend, that I am respected at the
Louvre. While they are thus publicly reducing to nought the certain
results of our success, they are threatening my private influence as
well. When I returned from the North, whom did I find in greater favor
than ever? That insolent, beaten hound of St. Laurent fame,--that
Montmorency, whom I detest!"
"Oh, no more than I do, surely!" muttered Gabriel.
"It was by his influence and for his own purposes that this peace for
which we are all blushing was concluded. Not content with thus making my
efforts appear of less account, he was very careful to look after his
own interests in the treaty, and to have the amount of his ransom after
being taken prisoner at St. Laurent repaid to him,--for the second or
third time, I believe! To such a degree does he speculate upon his
defeat and disgrace."
"And does the Duc de Guise enter upon a rivalry with such as he?" asked
Gabriel, with a disdainful smile.
"He shudders at the thought, my friend; but you can see that it is
forced upon him! You can see that Monsieur le Connétable is protected
by something stronger than glory or renown,--by some person more
powerful than the king himself! You can see that my services can never
equal those of Madame Diane de Poitiers, whom may the lightning wither!"
"Oh, that God might listen to you!" muttered Gabriel.
"What has that woman done to the king, in Heaven's name?" continued the
duke. "Are the people really in the right when they speak of philters
and charms? For my part, I believe that they are bound together by some
stronger tie than love. It cannot be passion alone which thus
indissolubly connects them; it must be fellowship in crime. I would
swear that remorse has a place among their souvenirs of the past, and
that they are more than lovers,--they are accomplices!"
The Comte de Montgommery shivered from head to foot.
"Do you not agree with me, Gabriel?" Le Balafré asked him.
"I do, indeed, Monseigneur," replied Gabriel, in a hollow voice.
"And to put the finishing touch to my humiliation," the duke went on,
"do you know, my friend, what reward I found awaiting me here at Paris,
over and above the monstrous treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis? The immediate
revocation of my appointment as lieutenant-general of the kingdom. These
extraordinary functions became unnecessary in time of peace, so I was
told; and without a word of warning, without even a word of thanks, they
erased that title, just as one throws upon the dust-heap a piece of
drapery which is of no further use."
"Is it possible that no more consideration than that was shown you?"
cried Gabriel, desirous to add fuel to the fire which was burning in
that incensed heart.
"Why should they show more consideration to a superfluous servant?" said
the duke, with clinched teeth. "As for Monsieur de Montmorency, that is
another affair altogether. He was and he remains constable. That, mind
you, is an honor of which they do not think of depriving him, and which
he has earned by forty years of defeat and failure! Oh, by the cross of
Lorraine, if the war-wind blows again, they may come and go on their
knees to me and implore me, and call me the savior of my country! I will
send them to their constable then; let him save them if he can. That is
his business, and the duty that devolves upon the office he holds. But
for myself, since they condemn me to idleness, I accept the sentence,
and will take my ease until the dawn of better days."
Gabriel, after a pause, replied with much gravity of manner,--
"This determination on your part is a grievous one, Monseigneur, and I
greatly deplore it; for I was just about to make a proposition to you--"
"Useless, my friend, useless!" exclaimed Le Balafré. "My mind is made
up. And then, too, I repeat, and you know it as well as I, the peace has
taken from us every hope of renown."
"Pardon, Monseigneur," rejoined Gabriel, "but the peace is the one thing
that makes my plan feasible."
"Really?" said François de Lorraine, tempted in spite of himself.
"Pray, is it some bold stroke like the siege of Calais?"
"Something still bolder, Monseigneur."
"How can that be?" exclaimed the duke. "Upon my word, you have succeeded
in arousing my curiosity thoroughly."
"May I tell you about it, then?"
"To be sure you may; in fact, I beg you to do so."
"Are we quite alone?"
"Entirely; not a living soul is within the sound of our voices."
"Well, then, Monseigneur," Gabriel began resolutely, "this is what I
have to say to you: This king and this constable choose to dispense with
your services; why do not you dispense with them? They have ejected you
from the office of lieutenant-general of the kingdom; assume it once
more on your own responsibility."
"How do you mean? Explain yourself!" said the duke.
"Monseigneur, foreign princes fear you, the people adore you, and the
army is at your command to a man; you are already more of a king in
France than the king himself. You are king by right of genius, he only
because the crown is on his head. Dare to speak with the voice of a
master, and the nation will listen to you like obedient subjects. Will
Henri II. be any stronger in the Louvre than you in your camp? He who
now speaks to you will be proud and happy to be the first to address you
as 'your Majesty.'"
"Well, this is an audacious and daring scheme of yours, Gabriel,"
commented the Duc de Guise.
But he did not give the least sign of irritation; on the contrary, his
features wore a smile under their simulated expression of surprise.
"If it is an audacious scheme, it is a heart of extraordinary daring to
which I propose it," replied Gabriel, firmly. "I speak for the good of
France. We need a great man for king. Is it not calamitous that all your
ideas of grandeur and of conquest should be thus disgracefully impeded
by the caprice of a wanton and the jealousy of a favorite? If you were
once at the helm with unfettered hands, where would your genius stop?
You would renew the glory of Charlemagne."
"You know the house of Lorraine can trace its descent from him!" said Le
Balafré, eagerly.
"Who could doubt it after seeing you in action?" replied Gabriel. "Be in
your turn another Hugh Capet for the Valois."
"Yes, but suppose I should be only a Constable de Bourbon?"
"You slander yourself, Monseigneur. The Constable de Bourbon called
foreigners to his assistance,--foes they were too. You need make use of
none but your own country's forces."
"But where are these forces, which, according to you, are at my
disposal?" asked Le Balafré.
"Two parties are offered to you," was Gabriel's reply.
"Who are they, pray?--for you see I allow you to go on, as if all this
were something more than a mere figment of your imagination. Who are
these two parties?"
"The army and the Protestants, Monseigneur," Gabriel answered. "You have
it in your power to assume the position of a military chieftain at
once."
"A usurper!" exclaimed Le Balafré.
"Say a conqueror! But if you would prefer, Monseigneur, be the king of
the Huguenots."
"How about the Prince de Condé?" said the duke, smiling.
"He is fascinating and clever, but you are great and brilliant. Do you
suppose that Calvin would hesitate between you?--and there is no doubt
that the son of the cooper of Noyon is the dictator of his party. Say
one word, and to-morrow you have at your command thirty thousand
Reformers."
"But I am a Catholic prince, Gabriel."
"Glory is the true religion of heroes like yourself, Monseigneur."
"I should involve myself in trouble at Rome."
"That will be an excuse for making yourself her master."
"Ah, my friend, my friend!" rejoined the duke, looking keenly at
Gabriel, "you hate Henri II. bitterly!"
"As much as I love you, I confess," said the youth, with noble
frankness.
"I prize your sincerity, Gabriel," said Le Balafré, with a more serious
manner; "and to prove it to you, I will lay bare my heart to you."
"And my heart will close its door forever upon what you may confide to
it."
"Listen, then," continued the duke. "I will confess that I have before
now sometimes dreamed of this end which you suggest to me to-day. But I
think you will agree with me, my friend, in this, that when one sets out
with such a goal in view, he should at least be reasonably sure of
reaching it, and that to hazard such a step prematurely is to invite
destruction."
"True," replied Gabriel.
"Very well," the duke went on, "do you really consider that the time is
ripe for the fulfilment of my ambition? Preparations for so momentous a
stroke should be made long beforehand, and men's minds must be made up
and ready to second them. Now, do you believe that the people have
accustomed themselves in advance, so to speak, to the idea of a change
of dynasty?"
"They are accustomed to it," said Gabriel.
"I doubt it," returned the duke. "I have commanded armies, have defended
Metz and taken Calais, and have twice been lieutenant-general of the
kingdom; but all that is not sufficient. I have not yet come near enough
to royal power. Doubtless there are discontents, but factions are not a
people. Henri II. is young, clever, and brave, and he is the son of
François I. There is no such danger in delay as to make one dream of
dispossessing him."
"And so you hesitate, Monseigneur?" asked Gabriel.
"I do more than that, my friend, I refuse," replied Le Balafré. "Ah, if
Henri II. should die suddenly to-morrow, by accident or disease--"
"So he thinks of that as well!" said Gabriel to himself. "Well,
Monseigneur, if that unexpected blow should fall, what would you do?" he
continued aloud.
"Then," rejoined the duke, "with a young and inexperienced king,
altogether under my influence, I would become in some sort the regent of
the kingdom. And if the queen-mother or Monsieur le Connétable
undertook to act in opposition to me; if the Protestants raised a
revolution,--if, in short, the State should be in danger and needed a
firm hand at the helm, opportunities would arise of themselves, and I
should become almost necessary. In such a case your scheme might be very
welcome, my friend, and I would gladly hearken to you."
"But until then," said Gabriel,--"until this very improbable death of
the king?"
"I will resign myself to wait, my friend, and will content myself with
preparations for the future. And if the seeds sown in my mind bear fruit
only for my son, it will be because God so willed it."
"Is this your last word, Monseigneur?"
"It is my last word," replied the duke. "But I am no less grateful to
you, Gabriel, for having had this confidence in my destiny."
"And I, Monseigneur, am grateful to you for having had so much
confidence in my discretion."
"Yes," rejoined the duke; "it is understood that all that has passed
between us is as if it had never been said."
"Now I will take my leave," said Gabriel, rising.
"What, already!" exclaimed the duke.
"Yes, Monseigneur, I have learned what I desired to know. I will
remember your words; they are safely buried in my heart, yet I will
remember them. Excuse me, but it was essential for me to ascertain
whether the royal ambition of the Duc de Guise was still slumbering.
Adieu, Monseigneur."
"_Au revoir_, my friend."
Gabriel left the Tournelles even more gloomy and anxious than when he
had entered there.
"So," said he to himself, "both the human auxiliaries upon whom I
thought I could rely have failed me. I have none but God to look to
now!"