The night was as black as Acheron. The rain poured down in torrents.
The melting of the snow rendered the roads in the lower parts one mass
of mud and water, while the higher ground, where the temperature was
colder, afforded nothing but a slippery and uncertain footing for the
horses, over which they had the greatest difficulty in making their
way. There was no possibility of seeing more than four or five yards
in advance; the wind blew the falling deluge in the eyes of the whole
party; and the heart of Louis de Montigni sank, when he thought of all
that Rose d'Albret was exposed to for his sake. He strove to cheer
her, however, as she rode beside him; he guided and supported her
horse in all the more difficult parts of the way; and often he
expressed his fears and apprehensions regarding her, almost regretting
that any inducement had led him to bring her forth in such a night as
that.
Rose spoke little in return, for her heart was too full of manifold
sensations, her mind too busy with thought for many words; but all
that she did say was kind, and even cheerful; for she perceived
clearly his deep anxiety for her, and strove to lighten the load as
much as possible. She assured him that she did not mind the tempest,
that she was accustomed to endure such things frequently, that her
jennet was the most sure-footed beast on earth, that she doubted not
the sky would soon clear; and when she saw how he reproached himself
for all that she was enduring, she reassured him by expressing her joy
and thankfulness at having escaped from an union, which every moment's
thought rendered more odious in her eyes. Thus they rode on for nearly
an hour and an half, sometimes slowly, sometimes rapidly, according to
the nature of the ground: the horsemen who accompanied them, keeping
as close around them as possible, for even such a dark and stormy
night was not without dangers of another kind, from the state of
turbulent anarchy into which the country was plunged.
At length, however, the rain suddenly ceased; the air became hot and
sultry; the wind died away; and Rose, turning to her lover, exclaimed,
"I told you, Louis, it would be finer soon."
Almost as she spoke, a bright blaze flashed over the whole sky,
illuminating the prospect on every side, which had before been hidden
under the dark veil of night. The trees of the forest on the right,
the wide undulating country on the left, the village and the spire in
the distance, the valley into which they were descending in front,
were all seen for a single instant, as clearly as if the day had
suddenly dawned; while, across the very midst of the glare which
blazed over the whole heaven, was seen a thin and quivering line of
more intense light, beginning near the zenith, and ending apparently
at a tree, some two or three hundred yards in advance, several large
limbs of which, were seen falling to the earth, with a rending and a
crashing sound, just as the darkness swept over the sky again, and all
was night once more.
The horses started at the blaze; and Rose d'Albret covered her eyes
with her hand, while Louis de Montigni checked the speed at which they
were proceeding, saying, "We must go more slowly, dear Rose. This is
unfortunate indeed."
"It may be so, Louis," replied his fair companion, "but storm, and
tempest, and the fierce turbulence of such a night as this, are
nothing in my eyes, compared with the slow and lengthened misery of, a
home without affection, and the living death of, a marriage without
love."
"Look! look, Sir! look!" cried one of the men, pointing forward to the
sky: but the eyes of his master, and of all the party were already
fixed on the same spot, where, in the midst of the heaven, one of the
most extraordinary phenomena of nature was suddenly presented to them.
For a space of several degrees the clouds seemed to have rolled back,
and were seen piled up, in enormous masses on either hand, like the
scenes flanking a wide stage, while between them spread out an expanse
of pale whitish light, with a red wavy streak below, resembling a
plain which has caught the purple rays of the setting sun. On either
hand, from amongst the masses of vapour, appeared to dash forth bodies
of fiery combatants, horse and foot mingled together, rushing,
charging, overthrowing each other, now mixed in furious combat, now
separating for a moment, now chasing each other over the field. Again
and again the squadrons met, as if in deadly shock, and balls of fire,
as of some unearthly cannonade, crossed the sky in the midst of that
strange scene, till at length, while the fight seemed still going on,
the clouds once more rolled over the whole, and all returned to
darkness.[1]
"This is very strange," exclaimed Louis de Montigni: "I have heard of
such a thing; but I never believed it before."
"We shall have a battle soon, Sir," said one of the men. "I wish we
could have seen which party won the day."
"The King's, to be sure," replied another; "did you not see how he
drove them back?"
"And which do you call the King's?" asked the young Baron, smiling to
see how readily imagination had seized upon the strange sight they had
beheld, to turn it to the purposes of superstition.
"That on the right, Sir," answered the man. "The King has the right, I
am sure; and besides, I saw him in the front rank with a large plume
in his casque."
"My eyes were not so good," said De Montigni. "Did you ever see the
King, Hugh?"
"Not I, Sir," replied the attendant; "but I am certain that was he,
and his horse was as red as blood."
His master said nothing in return, but rode on slowly, conversing in a
low tone with Rose d'Albret, while from time to time the lightning
flashed across their path, but less vividly than before; and ere long
the rain began to fall again, and the thunder ceased.
Now came the most fatiguing part of the journey, for the narrow path
which they were following entered the hilly and wooded country about
Montlandon and Champrond en Gatine, and they were forced to climb and
descend continually, over a road on which the snow was but half melted
and the mud up to the fetlocks of their horses, while still the
torrents poured down from the sky, drenching their garments through
and through. The wind had totally ceased, but the air was more sultry
and close than ever; and both horses and riders suffered much from its
oppressive warmth.
Rose d'Albret became silent from fatigue, for the agitation of the
last twenty-four hours now had its full effect upon her; and fears
lest her bodily strength should give way, added to what she suffered.
There is a calm and persevering endurance which goes far; there is a
light-hearted and hopeful energy which carries one through innumerable
evils; but the greatest burden upon all exertion is the fear of
failing--if once we let apprehension take possession of us. Rose knew
that it is so, and she strove hard, for De Montigni's sake, to banish
all such alarm; but the time seemed very weary, the way interminably
long. She looked anxiously for the first, grey light of morning. More
than once--when at the bottom of a hill--she thought she saw some
streaks of light over the brow; and as often she was disappointed,
till at length, as they issued forth from a thick forest that then lay
between Marolles and the edge of La Beauce, her lover exclaimed
gladly, "There, there is the daylight, Rose;" and looking forward, she
perceived distinctly the faint hues of coming day stretching over the
eastern sky, and the dark walls and towers of the castle of Montlandon
on its wooded height, standing out in strong relief.
That castle offers now nothing but a picturesque ruin to the eye of
the passing traveller; but, at the time I speak of, it was inhabited;
and a beacon fire on one of the turrets, waning in lustre with the
rising light, told that its owner took part for one side or the other
in the civil war.
"If I remember right," said Louis de Montigni, speaking to the man who
acted as their guide, "that is Montlandon; cannot we get shelter
there?"
"No, Sir, oh no!" replied the soldier. "We must change the colour of
our scarfs if we do; for Monsieur de Montlandon is furious for the
Union, and a great friend of Monsieur de Chazeul's."
"That is unfortunate indeed," said De Montigni. "Alas! dear Rose, I
fear you are well nigh exhausted. Can you go on, my beloved?"
"Oh, yes!" answered Rose, in as cheerful a tone as she could assume;
"for another hour, Louis--or two, should it be needed."
"It will not be safe to stop, Mademoiselle, till we get to Les
Châtelets," observed the attendant, who was one of the old followers
of the good Commander de Liancourt, "and that is near three leagues;
but the road is better here in Beauce; and we can go faster in the
daylight. But we had better use speed, Sir, and pass this village and
Champrond before the people are awake, or we may find enemies."
"With all my heart," cried Rose d'Albret; "this slow travelling in the
darkness is more fatiguing far than a quick pace;" and putting their
horses into a brisk canter, they hurried through Montlandon, before
any of the cottage windows showed signs of waking life. When they
reached Champrond, however, a good many of the villagers were standing
out under the shelter of their doors. The greater part, indeed, seemed
more terrified at the sight of the body of horsemen, than desirous of
impeding their progress, and retreated into their houses as soon as
the white scarfs appeared. But one stout blacksmith stood before his
forge, and shouted as they passed, "What news from the armies?"
"The King has taken Dreux," replied one of the attendants, in the same
loud tone, "and is marching upon Chartres."
"Curses on the Maheutre!" cried the blacksmith, and retired grumbling
into his dwelling.
No opposition, however, was offered to their passage; and at a quick
pace they hurried on; but the anxious eye of De Montigni saw that
Rose's cheek was very pale, her fair head bent down, and the hand
which held her bridle resting on the pommel of the saddle, as if she
could hardly manage her reins.
"Ah, dearest girl," he said, "let us stop at the first cottage. You
are faint,--you are ill."
"No, no," she answered; "I can go on, Louis. I am somewhat tired, but
I can go on," and in about five minutes more their guide exclaimed,
"There is the Eure! We shall soon be safe!"
Such words of encouragement revived the poor girl's strength for a few
minutes longer, till a hamlet, containing some half dozen houses,
appeared a little to the left, and De Montigni, without further
question, turned his horse's head thither, sprang to the ground at the
door of the first cottage, and, throwing his arm round his fair
companion, lifted her from the saddle.
Rose leaned upon his bosom, for she could not support herself; and,
raising her in his arms, he carried her into the hut, where they found
a peasant and his young wife taking their early meal. The good people
of this place seemed to know little, or care little, of Royalists and
Leaguers. They were of the best party, the party of human nature; and
the young woman rose eagerly from the table, with expressions of
kindly compassion, to assist poor Rose d'Albret, laid her upon her own
bed, all dripping as she was, and insisted upon making her put on some
of her own apparel, while she dried the lady's wet garments at the
fire. Fatigue and exhaustion, however, were the greatest evils under
which Rose was suffering; and De Montigni eagerly asked for wine, as
her pale cheeks and bloodless lips showed him how faint she felt.
"Here is cyder," said the peasant, "but that is poor stuff for such a
lady; and wine we have none."
"Run, Victor, run down to the priest's," cried his wife; "you will get
wine there."
"Or at Master Leger's," answered the cottager; "he has better wine
than the priest."
"I will go myself," cried De Montigni. "Come with me, good man; and,
while we are gone, your wife can undress the lady and assist her to
bed. A few hours' repose will do her much good."
"I am better now, Louis," said Rose d'Albret, stretching out her hand
to him; "do not leave me long. I am afraid of some one coming while
you are gone."
"I will be but an instant, dearest Rose," replied her lover, "and in
the meanwhile our people shall remain round the house. You had better
take off your wet clothes, dear one;" and he added, with a faint
smile, "I have no title to be present at your toilette yet."
The colour came faintly into her cheeks again; and, once more
promising not to be many minutes absent, the young nobleman hurried
away with the peasant, closing the door behind him, and bidding the
attendants remain on guard before the house till he returned.
At the end of the little straggling hamlet stood a house with a
projecting pole, from which was suspended a withered bush, giving
clear indication that there was the place where village festivals,
marriages, and merry makings, usually were celebrated. Here some
tolerable wine was easily procured, and, hurrying back with it, De
Montigni was soon by the side of her he loved, who, now stretched on
the low bed of the good peasants, had already somewhat recovered the
rosy look of health, and spoke cheerfully to him of being soon able to
proceed.
But De Montigni did not feel so confident of Rose's powers, and
inquired anxiously of the peasants, whether any carriage or litter
could be procured in the neighbourhood. Nothing of the kind, however,
was to be heard of, and they assured him that to seek any conveyance
but a horse or a mule nearer than Chartres or Dreux, was quite out of
the question. He then proposed to construct a litter in haste, but
Rose would not hear of it, declaring, that in an hour's time she would
be quite ready to pursue her journey on horseback; and, indeed, she
seemed so eager to go on, and so fearful of being overtaken, that she
would fain have risen even before an hour was over, declaring that she
had had rest enough. De Montigni, however, persuaded her to remain for
half an hour longer; and, going out of the door with their young host,
he made some inquiries regarding the state of the country in the
neighbourhood, and the best road he could follow towards Dreux.
The replies he received were not altogether satisfactory. Several
large bodies of men, the peasant said, had passed through the village
the day before; but whether they were Royalists or Leaguers he could
not well tell, as he took no great heed of such things, and the
soldiers had passed on without stopping, even to drink. One corps had
taken up its quarters for the night, he heard, in a village about a
league and a half farther on; but every fact he mentioned showed the
young nobleman that it would be needful to use every precaution,
during their onward journey, in order to avoid falling into the hands
of the Leaguers. For this purpose, he determined to send forward one
of the attendants, with directions to keep about half a mile in
advance of the rest of the party, while another preceded them by about
three hundred yards, so that early intelligence might be obtained of
any approaching danger. A man, too, was left to follow at a little
distance behind, for the purpose of guarding against being overtaken
suddenly by any party of pursuers from the Château of Marzay, though
De Montigni had good hope that the speed with which they travelled,
had removed all risk of such an event.
Everything being prepared, all orders given, the horses refreshed and
fed, and Rose d'Albret dressed in the clothes which had been dried
before a large wood fire, she was once more placed upon the back of
her jennet, and, at a slower pace than before, they again set out upon
their journey, after De Montigni had amply paid for all that he had
taken. At a distance of about a mile from the village, the man who had
been thrown forward, returned to say, that the ropes of the ferry-boat
over the Eure had been cut by the soldiers, as they passed on the
preceding day, and that they must go further up the stream to seek a
ford.
The weather, however, had become somewhat finer. The rain had ceased,
except a few drops from a flying cloud, now and then. Rose looked and
spoke cheerfully, and seemed really to have recovered from the fatigue
she had undergone; the fear of being overtaken had grown fainter with
every league they had advanced; and though the Eure was somewhat
flooded by the rains that had fallen, they soon found a ford. The
marks of horses' feet showed that some persons had passed not long
before, and, causing the whole of his little troop to keep on the
left, in order to break the force of the water, De Montigni led over
the lady's jennet, without much difficulty, and gained the opposite
bank.
This obstacle overcome, they proceeded for half an hour more without
encountering any fresh impediment; and, giving way to hope and love,
they talked of future happiness and bright days to come, and gave way
to all the dreams that visit the young heart in the season of fancy
and expectation, and clothe the coming years with all the glittering
garments of imaginary joy. They were both too young, they were both
too inexperienced not to feel the heart rise the moment that danger
and apprehension ceased; and, to say truth, though Hope may be--as she
is often too justly called--an untiring deceiver, yet, even in the
midst of her false promises, she confers real and inestimable
benefits, giving us strength to endure and courage to go on, which
none of the truer and more substantial things of life can afford.
Thus the happy dreams in which Rose d'Albret and her lover indulged,
during that brief half hour, comforted and refreshed her more than the
repose she obtained at the cottage; but the pleasant moments were soon
interrupted. At the end of the time we have named, the man who was
farthest in advance rode back at speed to the one behind him, and,
taking his place, sent him back to tell De Montigni that a body of
some two hundred horse were moving over the country before them, in
the direction of Tremblay. The first soldier had halted; and, riding
up with the man who served them as guide, De Montigni asked him, with
some anxiety, if he had been seen. The reply was in the negative; and
a consultation was held as to what course should now be pursued, in
order to avoid encountering the party which he had observed. It was at
length determined to take the cross roads to the east, and, once more
the Eure, to endeavour to reach the King's camp at Dreux, from the
side of Paris.
"We shall have better roads there, Sir," said their guide, "and shall
run less risk; for the country about Hauteville, Poigny, Epernon, and
Maintenon generally holds for the King."
"It will lengthen the way," replied De Montigni; "and I fear for
Mademoiselle d'Albret."
"Oh, do not think of me, Louis," exclaimed Rose; "if it is a safer
road, it will seem to me a shorter one."
"Besides, Monsieur le Baron," rejoined the guide, "we can rest as long
as we like at Nogent Leroy, for it has always been loyal; and, though
little more than a village, it defended itself against the Chevalier
d'Aumale and three hundred of the League. We can reach it in less than
two hours."
"Then let us thither with all speed," answered De Montigni; "for there
we shall find safety and repose combined, dear Rose."
This plan was accordingly followed; and, in less than the time
mentioned Nogent Leroy was reached, without any further peril or
impediment. Though, as the guide had described it, the place was in
fact but a village, yet gates, and freshly erected barricades gave it
at that time the air of a town; and the marks of musket-balls, in the
wood-work of the palisade, showed that it had been fiercely attacked
and had shown a gallant resistance. The little party was stopped for a
moment at the barriers, but the white scarfs worn by De Montigni's
men, and the answer of "Vive le Roi!" to the "Qui vive?" of the guard,
soon obtained them admission; and, riding on down the street, they
reached a small but clean and neat looking inn, over the door of which
was written the usual inscription, "Lodging for man and horse."
The host came out to meet them, showed them into a room strewed with
rushes, called forth his wife in eager and imperative tones to wait
upon the lady, and began in the same breath to ask tidings of his
guests, and to communicate all the information which he himself
possessed. The intelligence he afforded indeed was much more important
than any that De Montigni could supply in return; for the very first
news he gave imported, that a battle might be expected every hour,
that the two armies must be within a few leagues of each other, and
that parties of Leaguers and Royalists were hurrying up from every
quarter to swell the ranks of Mayenne and the King.
These tidings somewhat startled De Montigni and his fair companion;
but the host, who was an eager Royalist, spoke so confidently of the
certain defeat of the League and the triumph of the King, that the
apprehension of fresh dangers and difficulties, which the intelligence
had at first produced, soon died away; and De Montigni, turning to her
he loved as soon as they were alone, pressed her hand in his, saying,
"God send the King good success, dear Rose: but even if it should be
otherwise, which I will not believe we can but pursue our flight
somewhat further, and the very hurry and confusion of such events will
serve to conceal us from the eyes of those we have most cause to
fear."
Rose indeed could scarcely view the matter so cheerfully; but she
would not show her apprehensions, and only asked what course her lover
would pursue, if it should be found that a battle had been fought and
lost by the King, before they reached his camp.
"That cannot well be, dear Rose," replied De Montigni; "for I trust we
shall reach his camp to-night. They say he has raised the siege of
Dreux, and is now at Annet. You can take three or four hours' rest
here, and yet reach that place before dark. We must do so, if
possible; for in case of success we shall then be free from danger:
and in case of reverse we shall have the means of judging in what
direction to turn our steps. If further flight should be necessary,
which heaven forbid! I know that my own dear Rose will not hesitate to
give me her hand at once, to remove all chance of separation; and I
would fain obtain the King's written sanction to our union, to obviate
all difficulties, before a battle takes place--the event of which is
always doubtful."
He held Rose's hand in his as he spoke; and, though she bent down her
eyes under his eager gaze, she gave no sign of hesitation or
reluctance. Yet he could not be satisfied without full consent; and he
asked, "Shall it not be so, dear Rose? Will you not be mine at once?"
"I am yours, De Montigni," replied Rose d'Albret in a low tone. "You
will never ask ought that is wrong, I am sure; so that I may well
promise to grant whatever you do ask. But I hope we shall find the
King, and that he will win the day, and then I may be yours openly and
happily, and not in flight, and dread, and concealment."