The moment Helen de la Tremblade had quitted the château, Madame de
Chazeul entered the carriage which stood prepared for her in the
court, and accompanied by what she considered a sufficient guard, set
out upon her way towards the dwelling of her brother. Her thoughts,
however, were not of the pleasantest kind. At first, they were all in
confusion; but, through the turbid mass of her angry sensations, there
came an impression, a consciousness, that she had too much given way
to the violence of a disposition, originally irritable and passionate,
which all her cunning and art had not been able to bring effectually
under control. This perception grew stronger and more distinct as she
became cooler; but, for a time, she attempted to justify to herself
what she had done, on the score of policy. "If Rose d'Albret were to
hear of this," she said, "we should have new difficulties, and all my
well-laid schemes would be frustrated; so that it was necessary to get
the girl out of the château as quickly as possible. She will never
venture to go to her uncle's, surely! Oh no, she was ever timid and
frightened; she will hide away in some corner till she finds a new
lover."
This reasoning did not satisfy her, however. She saw there was danger
in the course she had pursued. She asked herself, what was she to say
to Walter de la Tremblade when he inquired after his niece, whom she
had taken some two years before, as what was then called, Demoiselle
de compagnie? Was she to tell him what had occurred. Was she to relate
her own conduct? Was she even to acknowledge that her son had seduced
the unhappy girl under her own roof, with opportunities afforded by
her own negligence, and not the best example, by her own conduct? If
such things came to his ears, what course would he pursue? Might he
not blast all her projects; destroy, even by a word, all, the glorious
fabric which she had been building up for her son's ambition? He was
not one who could be cajoled and cheated; he was not one who could be
overruled or thwarted. Art to art, and cunning to cunning, he was her
match; and she felt it. No, the matter must be concealed from him
entirely, at least till her schemes were all successful, and Rose
d'Albret was the wife of Nicholas de Chazeul. Then, she thought, he
might do his worst; the prize would be gained, the struggle
accomplished, and his power at an end.
Next came the question how this concealment was to be secured. If
Helen did not go to him at once--which the Marchioness little believed
she would--might she not write the tale which she would be afraid to
speak. That was not at all improbable. Nay, destitute as she had been
driven forth, it seemed certain that want would compel her to do so
immediately; and then the whole must be discovered.
As these thoughts presented themselves to her mind, she formed her
plan with her usual decision; and, bidding one of her women order the
coachman to stop, she called to the door of the vehicle, two of the
mounted men, who accompanied the carriage, and in whom she thought she
could rely, and directed them to return immediately to the château.
"Seek for the girl, Helen," she said, "you will soon find her; 'tis
not a quarter of an hour since she went. You can take some people on
foot with you, to hunt about in the neighbourhood. Carry her back home
immediately; and tell Mathurine to lock her up in her own room and
keep her upon bread and water till I return. I have been somewhat too
severe with her, though she must undergo some punishment. Away, as
hard as you can gallop, and mind you find her, or you shall repent it.
Here, Theodore, speak with all the people, and tell them, on their
lives, not to utter one word at the Château de Marzay of what has
taken place this morning. I and Mademoiselle de la Tremblade will soon
make it up again."
The man to whom she last spoke promised to obey, though, understanding
his mistress well, he clearly saw that she had some other end in view
than merely reconciling herself to her own conscience for her over
severity, and the carriage rolled on once more upon its way.
About four hours after, it reached the Château de Marzay, having met
with no farther impediments by the way than such as were presented by
roads naturally rough and uneven, which had become one mass of mud and
dirt from the united effects of a sudden thaw and long neglect. In the
court-yard of the mansion she was received by her brother, the Count
de Liancourt, who informed her, according to his version, of all that
had taken place in the château since the arrival of De Montigni. He
told her the truth, in fact, as he believed it; but nevertheless, he
gave her a completely false view of the whole affair; for it is ever
to be remarked and remembered that, of all the treacherous liars
against whom we have to guard in our course through life, our own
heart, with its whole host of subtleties and fallacies, its
prejudices, its vanities, and its self-delusions, is the most
dangerous. Men would rarely, if ever, be deceived if they did not aid
most strenuously to deceive themselves, and what is more curious
still, it often happens that when we are most busy in attempting to
put a fraud upon others, we are most actively cheating ourselves.
There is always a traitor in the council whenever we quit the
straightforward course of truth and rectitude.
Monsieur de Liancourt assured his sister, as she alighted from her
carriage, and walked up the staircase to the hall above, that the only
difficulty was with De Montigni, and that Rose d'Albret had used her
influence upon him to induce him to consent.
"Has she?" said the Marchioness, thoughtfully; "not very vigorously, I
should fancy."
"Oh yes, indeed," replied Monsieur de Liancourt; "for I watched their
parting from the cavalier, which was built at the time of the siege,
where I could see them, but they could not see me. It was as formal as
a court ceremony. He kissed her hand, and made her a low bow, and said
something which I did not exactly hear, but the last words were, 'I
will consider all you have said.'"
"So, then," said Madame de Chazeul, "Mademoiselle Rose hears reason at
last! But what is it that has done this? she always seemed as cold as
ice before, and barely willing."
"Oh! the fact is," replied the Count, "Rose was never without
ambition. I do not pretend to say she is in love with Chazeul; but he
took care to inform her of the high and splendid fate that would be
hers as his wife, and that was quite enough."
"It may be so," answered the Marchioness; "ambition is at the bottom
of every woman's heart; but yet if De Montigni were as handsome as
when he went away, I should have fancied that love and folly might
have had a hard struggle against ambition and good sense. I would not
have suffered them to have any private conversation, if I had been
here."
"It was the only way to get De Montigni to consent," rejoined Monsieur
de Liancourt; "besides, Chazeul has no cause to fear the comparison.
He is a man with knowledge of the world and of courts. The other is
still a boy, with no knowledge of anything but books and philosophy."
"Not the man to win a woman, indeed;" said Madame de Chazeul, with a
curl of the lip; "but we shall see."
As the last words were on her tongue, they entered the corridor where
De Montigni and Chazeul were walking up and down with the old
commander; and an amusing scene took place between the Marchioness and
the rest of the party. She had made up her mind as to the part which
she was to act towards her nephew; and the moment she saw him, she
exclaimed, with a joyous air, and holding out her open arms towards
him, "Ah, my dear Louis, welcome back to your native land! What a
truant you have been! How like he is to poor Louise!" and she embraced
him, apparently with all the tenderness of a mother.
The old commander growled a savage oath or two, and, when she turned
to him, looked her full in the face, saying, "He is like Louise; and
that is why I love him."
"Ah, Michael," said the Marchioness, "you always were a bear, and
always will be one. It is lucky you do not bite as well as growl."
"I may bite some day, if I am provoked," answered the commander.
"Ha! ha! ha!" cried Madame de Chazeul, laughing as heartily as if her
mind were free from all the weight of cunning schemes and violent
passions. "You see, Louis, he is just the same as ever. We have not
been able to tame him since you were gone. It is a sad, ferocious
beast--a bear. And so you have come to grace the wedding?"
"I hope so, Madam," replied De Montigni, gravely; but his thoughts
were busy with the question, of what should be his demeanour towards
the artful woman who was now before him; and, while she said a few
words to Chazeul, expressive of no particular affection towards him,
the young Baron made up his mind, to seem won by her manner, and to
attach himself as much as possible to her during the day, in order to
keep her from attacking Rose d'Albret, who, he feared, might not be so
well able to play her part against the Marchioness as himself.
Madame de Chazeul, however, was pertinacious too, and one of her first
inquiries was for Mademoiselle d'Albret.
"I will send and call her," answered Monsieur de Liancourt; "let us go
into the hall; perhaps she may be there."
They did not find her, however; and the servant he sent to summon her,
soon returned with the tidings, that the young lady had gone to bed
again with a bad headache.
"I will go and see her," said Madame de Chazeul. "Poor dear Rose, all
the agitation of these preparations is too much for her;" and she
moved towards the door leading to Mademoiselle d'Albret's apartments,
though the old commander exclaimed, in a surly tone, "You had better
let her alone! Your tongue, Jacqueline, never cured a headache, I am
sure."
The Marchioness, however, was stopped by the entrance of another
person with whom she had also to play her part; for just as she was
quitting the hall father Walter appeared, and advanced towards her.
Her face immediately assumed an air of friendly regard, and giving him
her hand, she said, "Good morning, father, how fares it with you? Our
dear Helen would have come with me, but she was somewhat indisposed.
Nothing of consequence, however; and perhaps she will join us
to-morrow, or at all events, on the day of the marriage." Then
suddenly breaking off, in order to avoid any further inquiries, on
that subject, she lowered her voice, and inquired, "How go things
here, father? De Montigni is restive, I find. Are you sure of
Rose?--quite sure, father? My brother, Anthony, continually blinds his
own eyes; but you see more clearly."
"I think there can be no doubt," replied the priest, "not that I
pretend to say that the lady loves your son; she regards the alliance
but as a family arrangement conducive to her interests, and the only
means of giving peace and quietness to the house. For these reasons
she has urged De Montigni to sign the renunciation and the contract,
and I think he will do it--nay, I feel certain he will. They would
hurry on the affair before your arrival, though I thought it would
have been better to wait. But from the course things have taken, no
harm has been done; and, perhaps it may be as well now, when you see
the lady, not to derange the impression which has been produced."
The Marchioness mused. "How comes it, good father," she asked, "that
Chazeul has not made himself loved? I fear he has been playing the
fool with other women; for he is not reputed to want success upon a
lady's heart, when he is inclined to try. I must give him some
lessons; do you think that any of his love affairs have come to this
girl's ears? That should be prevented till the marriage takes place."
"By all means," said the priest, "but I know of none from which there
is any danger."
"And I of but one," rejoined the Marchioness, "but I will take care to
keep that from her. One may be justified in using a little violence
for such an object."
"Assuredly," answered father Walter, "anything in short, but the
spilling of blood."
"Oh, Heaven forbid!" cried the Marchioness, "I bear the woman no ill
will for loving Chazeul; but if I were to have her carried off and
shut closely up for a few days, there could be no harm in that."
"It were the best means," replied father Walter, "unless her family be
sufficiently powerful to make dangerous resistance."
"There is no fear of that," answered Madame de Chazeul, with a quiet
smile; "but I will go and see Mademoiselle d'Albret."
Thus saying she quitted the hall, while father Walter advanced towards
the group of gentlemen at the other end, who had been conversing
together calmly enough during his interview with the Marchioness. That
lady, however, returned after a very brief absence, saying that Rose
d'Albret was trying to sleep; and, put upon a wrong track as she was,
both by her brother and the priest, she attached herself during the
rest of the morning to De Montigni, endeavouring by every artful
means, to possess herself of his whole views and intentions, and at
the same time to convince him, that he was giving pain to Rose
d'Albret by his hesitation in regard to the signature of the papers.
One of the reasons why the game of life is not unfrequently won by the
simple and the honest against all the arts of the politic and the
wily, is perhaps that, in this game, as in no other, the most skilful
and calculating can never tell what cards may be in the hands of the
adverse party. I say one of the reasons; for there are many, and
amongst them is the belief, from which cunning people can never free
themselves, that others are dealing with them in the same way that
they would deal, if their relative situations were reversed.
Madame de Chazeul, however, had studied De Montigni's character from
youth, and knew that he was generous and kindhearted. She, therefore,
like father Walter, endeavoured to work upon him, in the first
instance, through his affection for Rose d'Albret. She spoke of her
gently and tenderly, called her "poor Rose," and represented the
slight indisposition under which she was suffering, as entirely
proceeding from some agitation and vexation she had undergone in the
morning, affecting at the same time to be ignorant of the nature of
that agitation, but leaving him to draw his own conclusions.
De Montigni, as the reader knows, had the secret in his own keeping,
and internally mocked at all the policy which the Marchioness
displayed; for there is nothing so contemptible as discovered cunning.
He resolved, however, to turn back Madame de Chazeul's art upon
herself, and found even a pleasure in foiling her with her own
weapons.
"Well, my dear Madam," he answered, "I trust that, by this time
to-morrow, Rose will have no farther cause for anxiety on my account."
"Indeed, how so?" asked the Marchioness.
"Because by that time," replied De Montigni, "all will be positively
settled."
"And of course as Rose would wish," added the Marchioness,
"As far as I understand her wishes, it shall be so," said De Montigni;
"but I do not desire, Madam, what I say to you to be repeated; and now
will you tell me frankly, for I know you are well aware, what is the
value of these benefices which my uncle offers me?"
"At least equal to the value of the estates," replied Madame de
Chazeul: "more, indeed, if you take in the Abbey of Chizay in Poitou;
but that I believe was promised to good Monsieur de la Tremblade--not
exactly promised, perhaps; but I know he was led to expect it."
"No one shall break a promise for me," replied De Montigni with some
emphasis on the words. "They can be all held, I believe, without
taking the vows."
"Your uncle holds them," answered Madame de Chazeul, "and he has taken
no vows that I know of--unless it be, never to drink thin piquette
when he can get strong Burgundy, or to eat pork when he can find
venison."
De Montigni smiled, and was going on to stop the questions of the
Marchioness by inquiries of his own, when the summons to dinner was
heard, and the whole party descended to the hall below.
When the meal was over, father Walter put the young Baron in mind,
that they had to read over together the papers, in regard to which
there had been so much discussion. Although De Montigni much wished to
occupy Madame de Chazeul as far as possible during the day, he could
not well put off the engagement; and whispering to the old commander,
to watch her closely, he retired with the priest to his own chamber.
There, several long documents were spread out before him; and he
proceeded, with pen and ink at hand, to peruse the whole, clause by
clause, demanding minute and lengthened explanations as he went on,
and taking notes of every point of importance. Father Walter was
somewhat surprised at the calm and steady good sense he displayed;
and, though De Montigni expressed neither consent to nor dissent from
any of the items, was more and more convinced every moment, that the
young Baron had made up his mind, to accept the benefices and renounce
the estates.
In the meanwhile the Marchioness de Chazeul had drawn her son away
from the rest of the party below, and walking with him on the rampart,
was giving him those lessons of which she had spoken to the priest.
Not a word did she say of Helen de la Tremblade; nor a word of
reproach or reproof did she utter; but her conversation turned
entirely upon his demeanour towards Rose d'Albret.
"Ah Chazeul!" she said, after taking a turn backward and forward, in
the tone of one jesting with a friend, "thou art a silly lad, I fear,
and little knowest how to push thy fortune with womankind."
"Nay, my good mother, it is not thought so," replied Chazeul, drawing
up his head and smoothing his ruff; "I am no seeker after the fame of
such conquests, but I have some reason to believe they are not so
difficult as they are supposed to be."
"True," answered his mother, "doubtless with the light Parisian dame,
the gay lady who has known a thousand lovers, thou art a potent
assailant; but she is like a city which has been besieged and taken a
thousand times, till all the outworks and ramparts have been battered
down, and the place is right willing to surrender at the first sight
of artillery. With a maiden fortress, however, such as this fair Rose
d'Albret, thou art but a poor general, otherwise you would have gained
the citadel long ago."
"Meaning her heart; but how would you have had me conduct the siege,
dear mother?" asked her son, pursuing the simile she had used.
"By assault, Nicholas!" replied the Marchioness; "prayers, tears,
vows, daring, anything. Here neither wall, nor bastion, nor redoubt,
is to be gained but by vigorous attack. Women, who by experience have
not gained a knowledge of their own weakness, are always more resolute
in resistance than those who have learned that they cannot long hold
out when closely pressed. Storm and escalade are the only ways with
such castles, Chazeul; and if you were to pursue till doomsday your
cold and formal rules of siege, you would make no way, but find
defences grow up in proportion to the feebleness of the attack."
"Why, you would not surely have me treat Rose d'Albret as any common
woman of but light fame?" said Chazeul. "You are much mistaken,
mother, if you think that is the way to win her."
"Nay, I would have you treat her very differently, foolish boy,"
replied the Marchioness. "With a woman of light fame, as you call her
you may well trust to her to make at least half the advances. With a
young ignorant girl you must make them all yourself; for, be sure, she
will not. One or the other must be bold and daring; and the only
question is, on whose part it shall be. The practised dame will take
her share on herself, the inexperienced girl expects it all from you.
We all know in our hearts, Chazeul, that we do not dislike an
impetuous lover. Though we may chide, we easily forgive even very
grave offences, so that love be the excuse. The story of the Romans
and the Sabines was a good allegory of women's hearts; men must take
them by force if they would have them."
"Oh, her heart is mine sufficiently for all the purposes of wedded
life," replied her son. "I know her better than you, my good mother,
and am well aware that more things enter into the calculations of that
little brain than you imagine.--I would not spoil her," he continued,
"with too much devotion. You women grow exacting as you imagine you
have power; and I would have her think the tie she has upon me is not
too strong, lest she should one day think fit to use it strongly. It
is enough for me to know, that she sees clearly her own interest in a
marriage with myself. She will not expect, in a wedding of
convenience, all that court and exclusive attention which some brides
demand; and every little loverlike act will come with tenfold force."
"All very wise and very prudent, good youth," replied his mother, "if
you had no rival, no competitor in the game that you are playing; if
there were no obstacles, no difficulties in the way. But here our
great object is time and secure possession; and had you, by bold and
ardent eagerness, advanced your suit so that she had no escape from
marriage with you, we should have found both herself and De Montigni
more tractable, depend upon it."
"She is tractable enough," replied Chazeul, "it is De Montigni alone
that holds out; and she has done her best to persuade him, I am sure.
A rival, do you call him? but a pitiful rival to me! and as to
obstacles and difficulties, whatever have existed are swept away
already. She has done her best to persuade De Montigni to sign; and I
am sure he will do so."
"Well," said the Marchioness, "we shall see. I think he will, but do
not feel so sure. He was somewhat too smooth and courteous just now;
and I thought I saw a somewhat double meaning in his words, as if he
hoped still that Rose might raise up some impediment.--We must suffer
him to have no farther speech with her alone. It is a dangerous plan."
"There is no fear of Rose," replied Nicholas de Chazeul, peevishly.
"If it be anything like love on his part for her that you dread, it is
a vain fancy. Had you seen him meet her last night, you would have
been cured of such dreams. He was as cold as if we had imported a
statue from Italy, fresh cut in the stone; and not all Rose could do
would warm him."
"Ay, before others," rejoined the Marchioness, "but perhaps when alone
it might be different."
"No, no," said Chazeul, "my uncle watched them; and it was just the
same: all formal bows and stiff courtesies.--But who is this, comes
riding here?" he continued, gazing from the battlements. "A trumpet at
full speed, with a green scarf! News from Mayenne, upon my life! I
must go down and see."
Thus ended a conversation which has been repeated here with
reluctance; but it is as needful, in painting nature, to show the mind
and character of the bad as of the good, to display the thoughts and
reasonings of the wicked as of the virtuous. Neither does the portrait
of Madame de Chazeul serve little to exemplify the times in which she
lived. France was then full of such. Intrigue of every kind, amorous
and political, was then at its height, and most of the infamous and
daring deeds that were done, either for the gratification of private
passions, or for the attainment of great public objects, were
suggested by women.
The man who had been seen riding so sharply towards the château,
proved to be a trumpeter sent by the Duke of Nemours with letters to
Chazeul, notifying the march of the army of the League to relieve the
town of Dreux, closely besieged by the King, and calling upon him to
join it, with all his retainers, as a battle seemed inevitable. The
despatches spoke in glowing terms of the force under Mayenne. It was
nearly double in number, they said, to that which Henry of Bourbon
could bring to oppose it, and a glorious victory would soon be
achieved, in which all honourable men would long to take part.
Chazeul, however, sent an ambiguous answer; for he was not one to
sacrifice his private interests even to the triumph of his faction,
and he was resolved to possess the hand of Rose d'Albret, and to see
the estates of Liancourt and Marennes secured to himself, before he
quitted the Château of Marzay.
More than one hour elapsed before Louis de Montigni had terminated his
examination of the papers with the priest; and even then, with all
father Walter's skill, he could not extract from him any promise,
either direct or indirect, to sign them. To the eager questions of
Madame de Chazeul the priest could but reply, "I cannot tell what he
will do. I believe his mind is made up, to act as we could wish; but
his demeanour is certainly somewhat strange. He has taken notes of
everything, and remains pondering over them. Our only plan is to watch
the commander, and to cut them off from any private communication with
each other. Noon to-morrow will show us what we are to expect; and in
the mean time we must guide things as we can. Have you seen
Mademoiselle d'Albret?"
The Marchioness replied in the negative, and it was not till one hour
before sunset that Rose came forth from her chamber to breathe, for a
few minutes, the fresh air. She was pale, and evidently suffering; and
whenever Madame de Chazeul attempted to question her, she pleaded
indisposition as an excuse for talking little. She gazed forth from
the ramparts over the wide country which the château commanded, with a
feeling of dread, mingling strangely with hope and joy. The bright
sunshine of the first day of spring was glittering over the whole; but
on the verge of the southern sky was hanging a dark and heavy mass of
clouds, rising up in all sorts of fantastic forms; and Rose could not
help associating her own fate with the aspect of the day, and thinking
that the bright gleam of summer, which had come to her heart after a
long and chilling winter, might, perhaps, be soon blackened by storms,
the clouds of which were already within sight.
Soon after the party was joined by De Montigni; and the two lovers
strove hard to conceal their feelings under the appearance of cold
indifference; but Rose found the task so difficult that she remained
only a few moments after the young Baron's appearance, and then once
more retired to bed.
Madame de Chazeul remarked the whole; and suspicion rose up in her
mind. But the field of probability is wide and dim, so that her doubts
found no fixed point to rest upon; and she contented herself with
whispering to De Montigni, "Were I a man, I would not long give a lady
cause to fly me thus."
The young nobleman made no answer, but turned away, as if somewhat
offended; and this slight indication of temper was used by Madame de
Chazeul to deceive herself. "Were he not acting contrary to the girl's
wishes," she said to herself, "he would not take offence at my
supposing it."
The rest of the day passed without any occurrence of importance; and
the only points which Madame de Chazeul thought worthy of notice at
supper, were the absence of Estoc from the table, and that Louis de
Montigni confined his conversation almost altogether to father Walter,
with whom he talked a good deal in a low tone. She herself was tired
with early rising and a journey. The commander soon retired to rest;
and she followed without delay, as soon as she was certified by
private information, from one whom she had set to watch, that the good
old soldier was actually in his bed. Satisfied that all communication
between De Montigni and himself was at an end for the night, she laid
herself down to seek that repose which is unfortunately, but not
unnaturally, as often the portion of the hardened in vice, as of the
virtuous and the good.