THE BEGINNING OF THE END
Gabriel did not leave the Château de Noizai, however, but determined to
pass the night there. His presence would afford the Reformers a pledge
of his good faith, in case they were attacked; and beyond that, he still
retained some slight hope that in the morning he might prevail, if not
upon Castelnau, upon some other leader who was less blindly obstinate.
If La Renaudie would only come!
Castelnau left him entirely free, and seemed inclined to be rather
disdainful in his avoidance of him.
Gabriel encountered him several times during the evening in the halls
and corridors of the château, going hither and thither, giving orders
for reconnoitring parties and the forwarding of supplies.
But not a single word was exchanged between the two youths, each as
proud and as noble as the other.
During the long hours of that night of anguish the Comte de Montgommery,
too restless and anxious to sleep, remained upon the ramparts,
listening, meditating, and praying.
With the first glimmer of dawn, the Protestant troops began to arrive in
small detached parties.
At eight o'clock they had already assembled in large numbers; and at
eleven Castelnau could count all whom he expected.
But not one of the leaders was known to Gabriel. La Renaudie had sent
word that he and his forces would make their way to Amboise by way of
the forest of Château-Regnault.
Everything was ready for departure. Captains Mazères and Raunay, who
were to lead the advance-guard, had already gone down to the terrace in
front of the château to form their detachments in marching order.
Castelnau was triumphant.
"Well," he remarked to Gabriel as he encountered him,--he had, in his
satisfaction, forgiven the conversation of the night before,--"well, you
see, Monsieur le Comte, that you were wrong; and everything is going on
as well as possible!"
"Wait!" said Gabriel, shaking his head.
"Indeed, we must wait, if we are to believe you, doubter!" said
Castelnau, smiling. "Not one of our people has failed to keep his
engagement; they have all arrived at the time appointed, with more men
than they had promised. They have all marched through their respective
provinces without being disturbed, and--what is perhaps even
better--without having created any disturbance. Is it not, in truth,
almost too good fortune?"
The baron was interrupted by the sound of trumpets and the clangor of
arms and a great noise outside; but in the intoxication of his
confidence he was in no degree alarmed, and thought of nothing but some
fortunate event.
"See!" said he to Gabriel; "I will engage that those are more unexpected
reinforcements,--Lamothe, doubtless, and Deschamps, with the
conspirators of Picardy. They were not due to arrive until to-morrow;
but they must have made forced marches, the brave fellows, in order to
bear their part of the conflict and share in the victory. Those are
friends."
"Ah, but are they?" asked Gabriel, whose face changed color when he
heard the trumpets.
"Who else can they be?" rejoined Castelnau. "Come into this gallery,
Monsieur le Comte; through the embrasures we can look down upon the
terrace whence the noise comes."
He drew Gabriel after him; but when they had reached the edge of the
wall he uttered a loud cry, raised his arms, and stood as if turned to
stone.
The confusion had been occasioned not by Protestant troops, but by a
body of Royalists. The new-comers were not commanded by Lamothe, but by
Jacques de Savoie, Duc de Nemours.
Under cover of the woods which surrounded the Château de Noizai, the
royal troops had succeeded before they were discovered in getting within
close range of the open terrace, where the advance-guard of the rebels
was being drawn up in order of battle.
There was no show of resistance whatever, for the Duc de Nemours had
made it his first care to seize the stacks of arms.
Mazères and Raunay had been obliged to surrender without striking a
blow; and just at the moment when Castelnau looked down from the
battlements, his troops, conquered without a struggle, were handing
their swords to the enemy. On the spot where he had thought he should
see his soldiers, he saw nought but a band of prisoners.
He could scarcely believe his eyes. For a moment he stood motionless,
stupefied, bewildered, and speechless. Such an event was so entirely at
variance with his thoughts that at first he found it difficult to
understand it.
Gabriel, who was less surprised at this sudden blew, was no less
overwhelmed.
As they stood gazing at each other, equally pale and dejected, an ensign
entered hastily in search of Castelnau.
"What is the condition of affairs?" the latter asked him, recovering his
voice, by force of his anxiety.
"Monsieur le Baron," the ensign replied, "they have gained possession of
the drawbridge and the first gate. We only had time to close the second
one; but we shall not be able to hold it, and in less than a quarter of
an hour they will be in the courtyard. Shall we, nevertheless, try to
resist, or send them a flag of truce? We await your orders."
"Give me but time to put on my armor, and I will come down," said
Castelnau.
He hastened into one of the apartments of the château to buckle on his
sword and cuirass, and Gabriel followed him.
"What do you propose to do?" he asked him, sadly.
"I know not; I know not!" replied Castelnau, excitedly; "but I can at
least die."
"Alas!" sighed Gabriel; "why did you not hearken to me yesterday?"
"Yes, you were right, I can see now," returned the baron. "You
anticipated what has happened; perhaps you knew of it beforehand."
"Perhaps," observed Gabriel; "and therein lies my greatest suffering.
But remember, Castelnau, that life is full of strange and awful caprices
of fate! Suppose that I was not at liberty to dissuade you by divulging
the real reasons, which were struggling for utterance? Suppose that I
had given my word of honor as a gentleman not to give you any occasion,
directly or indirectly, to suspect the truth?"
"In such case you would have done quite right to say nothing," said
Castelnau; "and in your place I should have done just as you did. It was
I, madman, who should have understood you; I who should have known that
a valiant heart like yours would not try to dissuade me from battle
except for most potent reasons. But I will expiate my mistake by death."
"Then I will die with you," said Gabriel, calmly.
"You! and why?" cried Castelnau. "The one thing that you say you are
absolutely compelled to do is to refrain from fighting."
"True, I shall not fight," said Gabriel; "I cannot. But life has become
a grievous burden to me; the apparently two-faced part I am playing is
intolerable. I shall go into the fray unarmed. I will slay no one, but
will allow myself to be slain. I may be able to intercept the blow aimed
at you. If I cannot wear a sword, I may still be a buckler."
"No," rejoined Castelnau, "remain here. I ought not to involve you in my
destruction, nor will I do it."
"Ah, but think!" exclaimed Gabriel, earnestly; "you are about to involve
in it, uselessly and hopelessly, all of our brethren who are confined in
this château with you. My life is much less useful than theirs."
"Can I do otherwise for the glory of our faith than ask them to make
this sacrifice?" said Castelnau. "Martyrs often bring more renown to
their cause, and are more useful to it, than victors."
"Very true," replied Gabriel; "but is it not your first duty as leader
to do your utmost to save the forces which have been intrusted to you;
to die finally at their head, if their salvation is not to be reconciled
with honor?"
"So you advise me--" said Castelnau.
"To try every peaceable means of accommodation. If you resist, you have
no possible chance of escaping defeat and massacre. If you yield to
necessity, they will not have the right, in my opinion, to punish the
instigators of a plan that has been left unexecuted. Mere projects
cannot be punished, since they can only be conjectured. By laying down
your arms, you will disarm your enemies."
"I so bitterly repent not having followed your previous advice," said
Castelnau, "that I prefer to follow it now; and yet I confess that I
hesitate, for it is very distasteful to me to draw back."
"In order to draw back, you must first have taken a step forward," said
Gabriel. "Now what is there up to this point to prove your rebellion?
You do not declare yourself culpable until you actually draw your sword.
Hold! My presence may even yet, thank God! be of some advantage to you.
I was unable to save you yesterday, but do you wish that I should try to
save you to-day?"
"What will you do?" asked Castelnau, completely unmanned.
"Nothing unworthy of you, be assured! I will go to the Duc de Nemours,
who commands the royal soldiery. I will inform him that no resistance
will be offered, that the gates will be opened, and you will surrender,
but upon certain conditions: he must engage his ducal word that no harm
shall befall you or your comrades, and that after he has escorted you to
the king, in order to submit to him your grievances and requests, he
will cause you to be set at liberty."
"And if he refuses?" asked Castelnau.
"If he refuses, the fault will be on his side; he will have declined a
perfectly frank and honorable adjustment of the affair, and all the
responsibility for the bloodshed will fall upon his head. If he refuses,
Castelnau, I will return to you, to die at your side."
"Do you believe," said Castelnau, "that La Renaudie, were he placed as I
am, would agree to what you propose?"
"Upon my soul! I believe that any reasonable man would agree to it."
"Go on, then!" exclaimed Castelnau; "our despair will be so much the
more to be dreaded if your mission to the duke fails, as I fear it
will."
"Thanks!" said Gabriel. "I have strong hopes myself that I shall
succeed, and thus, with God's help, preserve all these gallant and noble
lives."
He went quickly down, and caused the door leading to the courtyard to be
opened; and with a flag of truce in his hand, he walked toward the Duc
de Nemours, who, sitting on his horse in the midst of his troops, was
awaiting the issue.
"I do not know whether Monseigneur recognizes me," said Gabriel to the
duke; "but I am the Comte de Montgommery."
"Yes, Monsieur de Montgommery, I do recognize you," replied Jacques de
Savoie. "Monsieur de Guise advised me that I should find you here, but
said that you had his permission, and charged me to treat you as a
friend."
"A precaution which may be of ill service to me with other less
fortunate friends," observed Gabriel, with a sorrowful shake of the
head. "However, Monseigneur, may I venture to beg a moment's
conversation with you?"
"I am at your service," said Monsieur de Nemours. Castelnau, who was
following distractedly all the movements of the duke and Gabriel from a
grated window of the château, saw them draw aside from the rest, and
converse for some moments with much animation. Then Jacques de Savoie
called for writing materials, and using a drumhead for a table, wrote a
few rapid lines, which he handed to Gabriel, who seemed to be profuse in
his thanks.
"There must be some hope for us," thought Castelnau. Gabriel rushed
headlong back into the château, and a moment later, breathless and
without a word, placed the following document in Castelnau's hands:--
Monsieur de Castelnau and his companions now within the Château de
Noizai having agreed upon my arrival to lay down their arms and
surrender to me, I, the undersigned, Jacques de Savoie, have sworn upon
my princely faith, upon my honor, and as I hope for the salvation of my
soul, that they shall not be molested, but shall be set at liberty
entirely unharmed, fifteen of them only, including Monsieur de
Castelnau, to go with me to Amboise, to present their grievances to the
king in a peaceable manner.
Given at the Château de Noizai this 16th of March, 1560.
JACQUES DE SAVOIE.
"Thanks, my friend," Castelnau said to Gabriel, after he had read the
foregoing; "you have saved our lives, and our honor, which is dearer
than life. On these conditions I am ready to follow Monsieur de Nemours
to Amboise; for we shall not appear there as prisoners before their
conqueror, but as oppressed subjects before their king. Once more I
thank you."
But as he warmly clasped the hand of his preserver, Castelnau remarked
that Gabriel had relapsed into his former state of melancholy.
"What troubles you now, pray?" he asked.
"I am thinking now about La Renaudie and the other Protestants who were
to attack Amboise to-night," replied Gabriel. "Alas! I fear it is too
late to save them; but I will at least make the attempt. La Renaudie was
to advance by the forest of Château-Regnault, was he not?"
"Yes," said Castelnau, earnestly; "and there is yet time for you to find
him there, and save him as you have saved us."
"At all events, I will do my best," said Gabriel. "The Duc de Nemours
will leave me at liberty, I think. Adieu, then, dear friend; I go to
continue, if possible, my work of conciliation. _Au revoir_!--at
Amboise."
"_Au revoir_!" Castelnau replied.
As Gabriel had anticipated, the Duc de Nemours made no opposition to his
leaving Noizai and its detachment of royal troops.
The zealous, devoted youth was free to urge his horse in the direction
of the forest of Château-Regnault.
Castelnau and those who remained with him followed Jacques de Savoie to
Amboise, trusting and tranquil.
But upon their arrival they were at once lodged in prison. There they
were to remain, so they were informed, until the affray was at an end,
and there was no longer any danger to be apprehended in allowing them
access to the king.