Louis De Montigni was in hope of a brief period of repose and
solitude; repose not so much of the body as of the mind; solitude in
which he might, to use the fine expression of Holy Writ, "Commune with
his own heart and be still." He had much need of it; for the last half
hour had exhausted him more than all the fatigues of the day. It had
been one of greater emotion than he knew, or would admit; and what is
there more wearing than emotion? He imagined that he felt pained and
grieved, only at finding, on his coming back to a place which had long
been his home, that he was half a stranger, his place in its
familiarity usurped by another, and he himself looked upon, not as the
returned son of the house, but as one to be observed and marked by
those now in possession. But in reality and truth, there were deeper
sources of anxiety and sorrow below; though it must always be full of
anguish to a young and inexperienced heart to find for the first time
the emptiness of professions, the hollowness of half the friendships
to which we trusted, the selfishness of the many, the baseness of
some, the instability of others, the falsehood, even, of the near and
dear--to discover that a few short years, a few short hours, perhaps,
will shake us loose from hearts in which we fancied ourselves rooted
so that tempests would not teams out. Yet there are more painful
things than even these every-day lessons of the world's constitution;
things that, blighting at once hope and confidence, extinguishing the
lamp of the future, and clouding the moonlight of memory, dispose us
to lay down the weary head upon any pillow for repose--even if it be
that of the grave.
He would not show all that he felt; he wished to show no part of it;
and he was anxious, most anxious, to have a short space, in which, by
his own power over his own mind, he might repress all external
appearances of disappointment and regret, and so school his heart,
that not the slightest token of what was passing therein might show
itself in his outward demeanour.
With this purpose, and in this hope, he took his way up one of the
narrow wooden staircases in the château, towards the apartments which
had been formerly apportioned to him, and which he had been informed
were again prepared for his reception. He entered the well-remembered
ante-room, and looked round. Everything was just as he left it;
the very chairs and tables were the same, and seemed in the same
position. He wished that it had been otherwise; he would have been
glad to see gilding and tinsel, and new decorations, rather than the
well-remembered old oak panelling, the huge chimney, with the iron
dogs to support the wood, and the tall-backed, uncomfortable chairs.
It made him feel that man alone was changed. It was full of memories
which he wished not to indulge. He went on quickly into the room
beyond, taking up the lamp which stood upon the table in the
ante-chamber; but there it was just the same. His servants, thinking
he would stay longer in the hall, had spread out some of his apparel
in haste, and had gone to greet their fellows in the offices; but even
the sight of the various things he had brought with him from a foreign
land were painful to him. They brought the thought of peaceful days,
brightened by occasional dreams of happiness to come, of expectations
which in truth he had been in no haste to realize till it was too
late, of vague aspirations, which, like some shrubs that produce a
long succession of ephemeral blossoms, had died as they bloomed, but
flowered again everyday.
Casting himself into a seat, he leaned his head upon his hand, and for
a minute or two gave himself up to thought. "'Tis strange," he said to
himself; "I knew not how deeply I should feel this, till I came near
these gates. The apprehension was less than the reality. Scarcely an
hour ago, I could have talked calmly of all; could have jested on it,
as any indifferent thing. But to feel it is very, very different." He
mused for a moment, then raised his eyes and gazed about the room.
Some one had placed an ebony crucifix upon a small table at the side,
with the figure of the dying Saviour in ivory standing boldly out from
the black background of the cross. It was the only change that had
taken place, and yet it struck him with melancholy, rather than
consolatory feelings.
"I must conquer this," he thought. "What right have I to repine at
another's happiness?" But ere he could give further way to his
reflections, he heard a step in the ante-room; and rising, he cast off
his cloak, and unlooped his collar, as if engaged in preparing for the
evening meal.
The moment after his uncle, the Count de Liancourt, entered with an
air of assumed cheerfulness, which Montigni saw at a glance, only
covered some anxiety.
"Well, Louis," he said, "all, you see, is just as you left it."
"All in these rooms appears to be so, Sir," he replied; and then
feeling that there was more point in the words than he wished to give
them, he added, "But a good many changes seem to have been made in the
rest of the house."
"Few, very few," answered Monsieur de Liancourt; "and most of those I
had long intended. The others are but preparations for the wedding."
His nephew was silent, and the Count paused for want of that
assistance which a single word might have given. At that moment one of
the young nobleman's servants appeared, and began to arrange his
apparel; but the Count, resolved to pursue the purpose for which he
had come, gave an impatient "Pshaw!" and then added, "Send him away,
Louis; he can come again in a quarter of an hour."
The man withdrew at a sign; and De Montigni, turning to his uncle with
a grave and self-possessed tone, which somewhat surprised and
embarrassed one who had been always accustomed to think of him as a
boy, inquired, "Have you anything of importance to say, Sir?" adding,
"if you have, I could wish you would reserve it till to-morrow; when
less fatigued I shall be able to hear it with better attention and a
clearer mind."
"Oh, no! nothing--nothing particular, Louis," said his uncle, who had
seated himself; "only we were speaking of Chazeul's marriage. I trust
you think it is a good arrangement?"
"To anything that may promote Mademoiselle's d'Albret's happiness, I
cannot of course object," replied De Montigni gravely, and there he
stopped.
Another embarrassing pause succeeded, and then the Count went on,
saying, "It is a matter I have long determined on. The union of the
houses of Chazeul and De Marennes must at once strike every one as an
alliance much to be desired. The important family thus raised up must,
in the present troubled state of the country, gain great influence,
and may be of great service to the state; and as to private and family
considerations, they all tend strongly to the same point; and
therefore, after mature consideration, I resolved that it should take
place."
De Montigni made no answer; and before his uncle, who was not at all
well pleased with his silence, could find words to go on, a heavy step
was heard in the ante-room, and the good old commander opened the
door. The old man's eyes were somewhat red, as if they had had recent
tears in them; but when he saw his brother, a look of surprise and
disappointment came into his countenance, and he drew back a step,
saying, "I did not know you were here, Anthony. I will not disturb
you."
"Oh no, my dear uncle!" cried De Montigni; "Monsieur de Liancourt says
he has nothing important to say. Pray come in. You must not take the
trouble of coming up that long stair for nothing."
"No, no, Louis," replied the commander, "some other time--to-morrow,
or the next day we will have our chat. Anthony's nothings are often
the most important things he has to do;" and thus saying, he retired
and closed the door.
"How peevish he grows!" said the Count. "However, Louis, I am glad to
find you approve of your cousin's marriage with my fair ward; and--"
"Nay, Sir," interrupted De Montigni, "I neither approve nor disapprove
of a matter in which I have no say, and have never been consulted.
Whatever Mademoiselle d'Albret thinks best for her happiness, must
have my best wishes for its result."
"Well, well, that is the same thing," cried his uncle, somewhat
sharply; "of course she thinks it will be for her happiness; and I am
sure of it, which is of more importance. Rose is a very good, amiable
girl, and will always be able to find happiness in the line of duty;
and I am not one to deceive myself as to what is best for those
committed to my care. It has been my anxious contemplation for many a
year, how to promote the interests and comfort of the three persons
who seem especially placed under my guidance and direction, Rose,
yourself, and Chazeul. He being of an eager, active, and worldly
disposition, is best fitted for struggling with these hard and
contentious times, and therefore in the distribution of the property
of my family, which is large enough to satisfy all, I intend to assign
him all the territorial possessions at my death. On you who are of a
studious, calm, and thoughtful character, I intend to bestow at once
all the rich benefices which are held by the house of Liancourt. They
are equal in revenues to the land, and, with your own hereditary
property, will form a princely income. Then the bishopric of Sens must
necessarily soon fall in, for my uncle who holds it is in his
eightieth year. To it, will be easily attached the hat of a cardinal,
as has indeed been generally done; and thus one of the highest
dignities in the world will be secured to you."
He spoke volubly and eagerly, to get over as fast as possible the
announcement of the dispositions he thought fit to make, without
interruption; and he then added with an air of dignified satisfaction,
"Thus you see, my dear Louis, I have in every respect considered your
happiness and your fortune, and nothing remains but to sign the papers
which confirm this arrangement."
But though the Count thought himself both just and generous, and felt
himself taking an elevated position towards his nephew, Louis de
Montigni saw the matter in a somewhat different light. "Rose
d'Albret," he thought, "the whole inheritance of Marennes, all the
estates of Liancourt added to those of Chazeul! This is certainly the
lion's portion, yet would I give up every part therein right willingly
but one."
He remained silent, however, with his head leaning on his hand,
and his eyes fixed upon the table, till his uncle exclaimed
impatiently, "You make no answer, Louis. Is it possible that you are
dissatisfied--ungrateful?"
"No, my dear uncle!" replied the young nobleman. "But this is a very
important question; and I told you that I would fain have some repose
before I discussed such things! I repeat it, that I could much wish to
have some time for consideration and thought, before I make any
answer, farther than that I thank you deeply for all the care and
kindness which you have always bestowed upon me."
"Methinks," said his uncle in a tone of displeasure, "that one
moment's reflection were enough to show you the propriety of that
which is proposed, and to induce you to sign at once the papers
necessary to confirm such a well-considered arrangement."
"Nay, Sir," answered De Montigni, "it might be so, if only the
disposition of your property were concerned."
"And pray what is there more?" asked the Count angrily; "what have I
pretended to dispose of, in which I have no right to dictate? I
suppose you will not deny, that I am authorized to bestow the hand of
my ward where I think proper? What is there else that I dispose of,
that is not my own?"
"Of me, my dear uncle," replied De Montigni. "If I understand you
right, I must enter the church. Though some men hold bishoprics
without such a process, according to the evil practices of these
corrupt days, such cannot be the case long: nor were I one to follow
such an iniquitous course. All these benefices by right ought to be
held by an ecclesiastic; and I will never hold them but as one.
Indeed, what you have said of my studious and thoughtful habits, shows
that you know such must be the case. The church, therefore, is to be
my destiny under this plan; but surely such a step requires somewhat
more than _a moment's consideration_. It is a question I have never
contemplated: it never entered my thoughts. I came hither prepared to
throw off my somewhat long-indulged inactivity, to take a part in what
is passing in my native land, after due deliberation and inquiry to
draw the sword rather than to put on the gown. Nay, more, I should
have done so long ago, had you yourself not urged me strongly, in
every letter but your last, to remain at Padua and continue my
studies, without entering into a strife where family is ranged against
family, and brother takes arms against brother."
"And why did I do so?" asked Monsieur de Liancourt. "Simply because I
have long determined on what I have this night announced. Is the rich
bishopric, so long in my family, to be lost--to be thrown away for a
whim? No, no, Louis. It was that you might be qualified to hold it,
and disposed by habit to receive it, that made me wish you to stay
where you were."
"If you had announced your wishes, Sir, before, I should have been
better prepared to fulfil them," replied his nephew; "as it is I must
have time. There may be men who look upon these things lightly, who
could take upon them the solemn vows which bind them to the highest
and holiest duties, without care or consideration. They may be right,
or they may be wrong; they may be men who, from the course of their
life and the habits of their thought, are fully prepared for such a
decision, though conscious of its great importance: or they may be
those who, never intending to fulfil the obligations of any station in
which they are placed, look upon all indifferently. I am in neither of
these conditions; I have never considered the subject; I have prepared
my mind for other things; but if I do consent, it will be with the
determination to act up to the calling I assume, and be an
ecclesiastic in spirit and in heart, as well as in name."
"Oh, if it be only conscientious considerations that withhold you,"
said his uncle, "those will be soon satisfied by good father Walter.
He shall speak with you this very night. You know him, and esteem
him."
"Much," replied De Montigni, "and will gladly converse with him for an
hour or two alone on this subject."
"Why not at once," asked his uncle; "I can call him in a minute, his
chamber is but at the end of the passage."
As he spoke, however, the sound of a trumpet, as was then common in
France, announced the hour of supper; and feeling that he could not
press the subject further, Monsieur de Liancourt added, "Well, well,
afterwards will do; and I doubt not that to-morrow I shall find you
quite determined, and willing to sign the papers, and accept the
benefices, which shall be made over to you immediately."
"What are these papers, Sir," asked De Montigni, without giving any
reply upon the subject of his willingness.
"Oh, nothing but common forms," replied his uncle, "I cannot explain
them all to you just now, for supper is served. Come, De Montigni."
"I am not quite ready yet," answered the young Baron, "pray do not
wait for me; I will join you in a few minutes."
His uncle accordingly left him; but instead of proceeding to change
his dress, De Montigni covered his eyes with his hands, and gave
himself up for a few minutes to bitter and anxious thought. Oh how
many wild and tumultuous feelings passed through his bosom during that
short space of time! and all were sad and painful. The contemplation
of the future, the memory of the past, the consideration of the
present, regret, apprehension, indecision, were all present to his
mind at once; and, for some time, thought seemed one strange chaos of
indistinct and gloomy forms, from which at length rose up one image
more painful than all the rest. His mind rested upon Rose d'Albret,
and upon the idea of losing her for ever. Remembrance brought her back
as the companion of his boyhood; he recollected how she had shared his
sports, how she had ridden by his side through the scenes around, how
she had taken part in his pleasures and his fancies, how she had
soothed him under any of the petty griefs of youth, how she had turned
from him anger and reproof, when in the gay light-heartedness of early
years he had offended the irritable gravity of age. She had always
loved him he thought, and he had always loved her, with the tender and
unselfish love of years when passion is unknown. He had ever thought
her beautiful,--most beautiful; but it was the kindness, the
affection, in her radiant eyes that gave them double light to him; and
now he had seen her in the full loveliness of womanly perfection, he
had beheld the same looks bent upon him from a face which might well
inspire more ardent feelings; and yet he was even now to see her given
to another,--now, at the very moment when he had most learnt to long
for her himself. Often he had fancied in his boyish dreams that, at
some future period she would be his own; that their mutual lives,
through maturity and age, would pass in the same happy confidence, in
the same warm affection, which had brightened their childhood. He
almost believed that some one had told him so, that she had been
originally destined for him; and, as his mind rested upon that
thought, his disappointment became the more bitter.
What was to be his future life then? to be cut off from all the joys
of domestic life; to embrace that cold and stern profession which, in
his church, excluded those who adopted it from all the warm relations
of husband and father; to pass his days in the dull routine of formal
services, or in the petty intrigues and artful man[oe]uvres which have
too often disgraced the Roman hierarchy; to cast from him at once all
the dreams and aspirations of young and energetic manhood; and, before
his hair was grey, to clothe his mind with the chilly garmenture of
age. He shrunk from the thought; but, when he recollected that Rose
d'Albret was to be the wife of another, it seemed to him a matter of
small moment how his after days were to be passed.
Such were some of his thoughts, and only some; for there were many,
many more; and yet they occupied but a very few minutes. It was not
one by one they came, but appeared before him like a hostile army,
stretching out at once on every side wherever his eye was turned.
Nevertheless he could have gone on for hours, and yet not have
exhausted all the bitter subjects of contemplation presented to him.
Most likely, indeed, he would have gone on much longer, had not
one of his servants presented himself to assist him in dressing; and
starting up from his sorrowful reveries, he hastened to cast off his
travel-stained garments, and in a few minutes descended to the hall,
where the rest of the party were assembled to supper.
A place was reserved for him between the count and the old commander.
On the right hand of the latter sat father Walter, and on the opposite
side were Chazeul and Mademoiselle d'Albret. Two or three of the
retainers of the house, who bore the rank of gentlemen, filled up the
rest of the table, with Chasseron and Estoc at the bottom. It was on
the countenance of Rose d'Albret, however, that the eyes of De
Montigni rested, as with a slow step he entered the hall. She was
looking thoughtfully down, with a pale cheek and a grave brow; and she
did not look up till he had taken his seat, when she did so with a
start, as if suddenly wakened from her reverie.
Monsieur de Liancourt made an effort to receive him with a cheerful
and unembarrassed air, laughed and talked more than was necessary, but
yet was evidently occupied with other thoughts, and not altogether
well pleased. Chazeul tried hard to engage his fair companion in a
low-toned conversation, but, failing there, turned to his cousin De
Montigni, and by the sort of bantering persiflage which has been
common in all ages to small wits, sought to show his own superiority
as a man of the world, at the expense of his relation's inexperience.
But the extent of De Montigni's information, his knowledge of other
scenes and other lands, the higher tone of his mind, and, above all,
that calmness which is often generated by deep and powerful feelings,
even when they are those of sadness and disappointment, set the
haughty and supercilious jests of the Leaguer at nought; and he often
rebuked him with a quick and cutting reply, which made the old
commander laugh, and once called a smile even upon the grave lips of
father Walter.
Rose seemed greatly busied with her own thoughts, and attended little
to what was passing, though once indeed she raised her eyes to De
Montigni's face with a slight smile, while he administered some
wholesome chastisement to the jeering spirit of his cousin; and when
he went on in a few brief sentences to point out that there were
higher things in life, than those on which Chazeul seemed to set such
store, her eyes brightened, her look became full of interest and
pleasure; and then she suddenly withdrew her gaze from his face, and
fell into deeper thought than before.
There were one or two persons present who marked all this, and knew
that the two cousins were rivals in heart, though not openly; and they
easily judged, that the contrast was unfavourable to him who seemed
the successful lover. Amongst these, there were some who wished to
prolong it; but the priest took the first opportunity of stopping any
further comparison, by given thanks after meat, as soon as possible,
and rising to depart.
In the little confusion which always takes place at the conclusion of
a meal, the old commander drew De Montigni aside and whispered, "I
will come up and see you directly, Louis, if you will go up to your
own room."
"The Count is going to send Monsieur de la Tremblade to me," replied
the young nobleman, in the same tone; "will he interrupt you?"
"Yes, yes, diabolically," replied the old soldier; "get rid of him as
soon as you can, Louis. I will set a watch, to see when he leaves you,
and come immediately after, for I must and will speak with you
to-night, let who will try to prevent it. Mind, be upon your guard
with him," he added, "promise nothing, engage yourself to nothing.
Have I your word, that you will not, till you have spoken with me?"
"You have, my dear uncle," replied De Montigni; and at the same moment
the priest approached, and laying his hand upon the young Baron's arm,
he said "Monsieur de Liancourt tells me, you desire to speak with me."
"He wished me to have some conversation with you, my good Father,"
replied De Montigni, "and I shall be most happy when you are at
leisure."
"This moment, if you please," rejoined the priest; and they left the
hall together, the young nobleman perceiving as he did so, that the
eyes of Rose d'Albret were fixed upon him, with an eager and somewhat
anxious gaze.