GUISE AND COLIGNY
After Catherine de Médicis's departure, there was a moment of silence.
The young king seemed amazed at his own hardihood; while Mary, with the
keen intuition of affection, could not avoid a shudder at the thought of
the queen-mother's last threatening glance. The Duc de Guise was
secretly delighted to find himself thus freed from an ambitious and
dangerous associate before his first hour of authority was at an end.
Gabriel, who was the occasion of all this trouble, was the first to
speak.
"Sire," said he, "and you, Madame, and you also, Monseigneur, I thank
you with all my heart for your kind and generous treatment of a poor
wretch whom Heaven itself has abandoned. But notwithstanding my profound
gratitude, with which my heart is overflowing, I ask you of what use is
it to turn aside danger and death from so mournful and hopeless an
existence as mine? My life is of no value for any purpose, or to any
person, not even myself. For that reason I would not have disputed
Madame Catherine's right to take it, because henceforth it is useless to
me."
He added sorrowfully in his own mind, "And because it may yet become a
nuisance."
"Gabriel," the Duc de Guise rejoined, "your life has been gloriously and
worthily lived in the past, and contains equal possibilities for the
future. You are a man of vigor and energy, such as are in great request
by those who govern empires, and are seldom available."
"Then, too," the sweet and soothing voice of Mary Stuart chimed in,
"yours is a great and noble heart, Monsieur de Montgommery. I have known
you for a long while, and Madame de Castro and myself have very often
talked together about you."
"In short," observed François II., "your past services, Monsieur,
justify me in relying upon you for like services in the future. The
embers of war, which are now smouldering, may burst into a blaze at any
moment, and I do not wish that a momentary despair, whatever be its
cause, should deprive the country forever of a defender who is, I am
sure, as loyal as he is gallant."
Gabriel listened with a grave and wondering sadness to these kind words
of hope and encouragement. He gazed in turn at each of the exalted
personages who had addressed them to him, and appeared to be in very
deep thought.
"Well," he at last replied, "this unexpected good-will which all of you,
who ought perhaps to hate me, thus demonstrate, has changed my heart and
my destiny. At your service, Sire, at yours, Madame and Monseigneur, so
long as you live, I place the existence of which you have made me a
gift, so to speak. I was not born a villain, and your kindness touches
me deeply. I was born to be devoted to somebody, to sacrifice myself,
and to serve as the instrument of noble ideas and great men,--sometimes
a happy, but at others a fatal instrument, alas! as God, in His wrath,
knows only too well! But let us speak no more of the gloomy past, since
you are good enough to believe in the possibility of a future for me.
That future, however, belongs not to me, but to you; and henceforth I
cherish what you admire, and think as you think. I abdicate my will. Let
the beings and the objects in whom I believe, do with me as they please.
My sword, my blood, my life,--all that I am, is theirs. I give my arm
unreservedly and irrevocably to assist your genius, Monseigneur, as I
devote my soul to religion."
He did not say which religion; but those who heard him were such devoted
Catholics that no thought of the Reformed religion entered their minds.
The eloquent abnegation of the young count deeply touched them all. Mary
had tears in her eyes; and the king congratulated himself on having been
firm enough to rescue such a grateful heart. As for the Duc de Guise, he
believed that he knew better than any one how far Gabriel's ardent
self-sacrifice might go.
"Yes, my friend," said he, "I have need of you. I shall call upon you
some day, in the name of France and the king, to draw the sword you
promise us."
"It shall be ready, Monseigneur,--to-morrow, to-day, always!"
"Keep it in its scabbard for the present," said the duke. "As his
Majesty has said, peace prevails at the moment,--there is a truce to war
and faction. So rest on your sword awhile, Gabriel, and give this
unfortunate notoriety which your name has attained of late time to die
away. Surely, not a soul of those who are entitled to the name and
possess the heart of a gentleman will ever dream of accusing you for
your misfortune. But your real glory demands that this undesirable
renown should sink into oblivion. Hereafter, say in a year or two, I
will ask the king to bestow upon you again the office of captain of the
Guards, of which you have never ceased to be worthy."
"Ah," said Gabriel, "it is not honors that I covet, but opportunities to
be useful to my king and country, opportunities to fight. I dare not say
opportunities to die, for fear that I may seem ungrateful."
"Do not talk so, Gabriel," replied Le Balafré. "Just say that when the
king shall call upon you for assistance against his foes, you will
respond to the summons without delay."
"I will, Monseigneur, wherever I am, or may be required to go."
"It is well," said the Duc de Guise; "I ask no more than that of you."
"For my part," said François II., "I thank you for your promise, and
you may rely upon me to see that you do not repent having redeemed it."
"While I," added Mary Stuart, "assure you that your devotion always will
meet with equal confidence on our part, and that you shall be one of
those friends from whom we have no secrets, and to whom we will refuse
nothing."
The young count, more deeply touched than he chose to confess to
himself, bowed, and touched respectfully with his lips the hand which
the queen held out to him.
He then pressed the hand of the Duc de Guise, and receiving his
dismissal by a kindly gesture from the king, withdrew, being thenceforth
bound, by force of a generous action, to the son of the man upon whom he
had sworn to be revenged even in the persons of his children.
Gabriel found Admiral de Coligny awaiting him when he reached home.
Aloyse had informed the admiral, who had come to pay a friendly visit to
his companion-in-arms at St. Quentin, that her master had been summoned
to the Louvre that morning; she had imparted her anxiety to him, and
Coligny had determined to remain until the count's return should
reassure them both.
He received Gabriel with much cordiality, and questioned him as to what
had taken place.
Without going into details, Gabriel merely told him that upon his
offering a simple explanation of his connection with the deplorable
death of Henri II. he had been dismissed unharmed personally and with
his honor unsullied.
"It could not have been otherwise," exclaimed the admiral; "for the
whole nobility of France would have protested as one man against any
suspicion which would have cast a blot upon the fame of one of its
worthiest members."
"Let us drop the subject," said Gabriel, with sorrowful constraint. "I
am very glad to see you, Monsieur l'Amiral. You know that I am already
at heart a member of your sect, for I have told you and written you to
that effect. Since you think that I would not bring discredit upon the
faith in which I believe, I not only wish to, but I do now abjure the
faith in which I was brought up; your discourse and Master Paré's, the
books I have read and my own reflections, have completely convinced me,
and I am with you heart and soul."
"Welcome news! and it comes very opportunely," said the admiral.
"I think, however," said Gabriel, "that even in the interest of the
Religion itself, it might perhaps be better to keep my conversion secret
for a time. As Monsieur de Guise just observed, any sort of notoriety is
best avoided for the present. Besides, this delay will conform better
with the new duties I have to perform."
"We shall always be proud to announce your name publicly as one of us,"
said the admiral.
"But my proper course is to decline, or at all events postpone, this
priceless token of your esteem," Gabriel replied. "But I do wish to give
you this pledge of my utter, immovable faith, and to be able to call
myself in my own mind one of your brethren, both in purpose and in
fact."
"This is glorious, indeed!" exclaimed Monsieur de Coligny. "All that I
ask is your permission to inform the leaders of our party of the notable
conquest which our ideas have definitively made."
"Oh, I consent to that with all my heart," said Gabriel. "The Prince de
Condé," continued the admiral, "La Renaudie, and Baron de Castelnau,
already know you, and appreciate your merit fully."
"Alas! I much fear that they overestimate it; for, viewed in the most
favorable light, my merit is very slight."
"No, no!" returned Coligny; "they do well to rely upon it. I know you
well also. Besides," continued he, in a lower tone, "we may perhaps have
an opportunity to put your new zeal to the proof very soon."
"Indeed!" said Gabriel, in surprise. "You know, Monsieur l'Amiral, that
you can rely upon me,--nevertheless, with certain reservations, which I
must make known to you."
"Who has not his reservations to make!" rejoined the admiral. "But
listen, Gabriel: It was not only as a friend, but as a partisan as well,
that I came to visit you to-day. We have spoken of you with the prince
and La Renaudie. Even before your definite adhesion to our principles we
looked upon you as an auxiliary of peculiar merit, and of impregnable
honesty; in fact, we all agreed in regarding you as a man capable of
serving us if you chose, but incapable of betraying us, whatever might
happen."
"Indeed, I do possess that last qualification, in default of the
former," Gabriel replied. "You may always rely upon my word, if not upon
my assistance."
"Then we resolved to have no secrets from you," said the admiral. "You
will be, like one of our leaders, made acquainted with all our plans,
and you will be held to no responsibility except silence. You are not
like other men; and exceptional measures must be taken with exceptional
men. You will remain quite free, and we only shall be bound."
"Such confidence!" exclaimed Gabriel.
"Your engagement is left entirely to your own discretion, I repeat,"
said the admiral. "To begin with, let me tell you one fact: the schemes
which were revealed to you in the Place Maubert, and which were then
postponed, are practicable to-day. The weakness of the young king, the
domineering arrogance of the Guises, the purpose of persecuting us which
is no longer hidden,--all urge us to action; and we are about to act."
"Pardon me," Gabriel interrupted him; "I have already told you, Monsieur
l'Amiral, that I can only give myself to your cause with certain
limitations. Before you go any further with your confidences, I ought to
tell you definitely that I do not mean to concern myself with the
political aspects of the Reformation,--at least during the continuance
of the present reign. I freely offer my fortune, my time, and my life to
assist in the propagation of our principles and in extending our moral
influence; but I have no right to view the movement except in its
religious bearing, and in no sense as a party question. François II.,
Mary Stuart, as well as the Duc de Guise himself, have treated me very
generously,--yes, nobly. I will not betray their confidence any more
than yours. Allow me to refrain from action, and occupy myself only with
the principle for which we strive. Demand my testimony whenever you
please; but I reserve the independence of my sword."
Monsieur de Coligny replied, after a moment's reflection,--
"My words, Gabriel, were not mere empty sounds. You are and shall still
be quite free. Go on alone in your own path if you please; act
independently of us or not at all. We shall never call you to account.
We know," he added, with a significant expression, "that it is sometimes
your way to prefer to dispense with associates or advisers."
"What do you mean?" asked Gabriel, in surprise.
"I know what I mean," replied the admiral. "For the present you ask that
you may take no part in our conspiracies against the royal authority. So
be it! Our duty will be done when we have given you notice of our
movements and purposes. Then you may follow us or stand apart; that is
your affair, and yours only. You will always know, either by letter or
messenger, when and where we have need of you, and then you will act as
seems good to you. If you come to us, you will always be welcome; if you
stay away, no one will have any fault to find. Such is the agreement to
which the leaders of the party have come concerning you, even before you
had told me where you stood. You can accept such conditions, I should
think."
"Indeed, I do accept them; and I thank you heartily," said Gabriel.
During the night which followed that eventful day, Gabriel, kneeling
before his father's tomb in the mortuary vault of the counts of
Montgommery, communed with his dead in these words:--
"Yes, my Father, I did indeed take oath not only to punish your murderer
in his own lifetime, but also to visit his sins upon his children after
him. There is no doubt of it, O my Father, no doubt! But I did not
anticipate what has happened. Are there not obligations even more sacred
than the fulfilment of an oath? What duty can compel one to strike down
an enemy who puts the sword in one's hand, and presents his bare breast
to receive the blow? If you were living, my Father, I am sure you would
advise me to postpone my wrath, and not to meet confidence with
treachery. Forgive me, then, from the grave, for doing what if you were
living you would require me to do. Moreover, something seems to tell me
that my vengeance is merely suspended, and that but for a short time.
You know on high what we can only feel a presentiment of here below. But
the pallor of this sickly king, and the frightful glance with which his
mother threatened him, and the predictions (which have thus far proved
accurate, and which decree that my own life must fall a prey to that
woman's rancorous hatred), and the conspiracies already set on foot
against the reign which began only yesterday,--all combine to lead me to
think it probable that the boy of sixteen will occupy the throne for a
much less time even than the man of forty, and that I shall very soon be
able to resume my task and my oath of expiation, my Father, under the
reign of another of the sons of Henri II."