There was a great change in Agnes, and Madame De Brecy remarked it
immediately. Hers was an earnest, though a cheerful spirit, and when
she was thoughtful, those who knew her well might be sure she was
debating something with herself, examining some course of action,
trying some thought or feeling before the tribunal of her own heart.
All that night, and all the following morning, she was very
thoughtful. Her gayety seemed gone, and though she could both listen
and converse, yet at the least pause she fell back into a revery
again.
Jean Charost, too, was a good deal changed, at least toward Agnes, and
the mother's eye marked it with very varied feelings. His manner was
more tender, his language more glowing; there was a spirit in his
words which had never been there before. He, too, was often very
thoughtful; but Jean Charost had other motives for thought besides
those connected with Agnes. Early on the morning of the day following
the incidents lately detailed, he sent a man up to the watch-tower
with others to keep his eye on the valley of the Cher, and Madame De
Brecy remarked that the soldiers who had remained at St. Florent were
no longer scattered about, either amusing themselves in the village,
or sporting in the court-yard, but were gathered together, all in busy
occupation, some cleaning and rubbing down their horses, some
polishing armor, or sharpening swords and lances, some skillfully
making arrows or quarrels for the crossbow. She refrained from asking
any questions till after the mid-day meal; but it was hardly over when
the horn of the watcher upon the tower was winded loudly, and De
Brecy, springing up from the table, ran up the stairs himself, as if
on some notice of danger. There were several of the chief persons of
his little band still around the board; but none of them moved or
showed any sign of anxiety, and, in truth, they had been so long
inured to hourly peril that danger had lost its excitement for them.
The young lord was absent only a few minutes; but, on his return, he
did not resume his seat, merely saying to the soldiers around, "To the
saddle with all speed. Lead out all the horses. Some one bring me my
armor. Do not look pale, my mother; I know not that there is any cause
for alarm; but I heard yesterday that troops were tending toward
Bourges in a somewhat menacing attitude, and I think it may be as well
for us to leave St. Florent for a time, and return to De Brecy."
"Are they English?" asked Madame De Brecy, evidently much frightened.
"Not so," replied her son; "nor are they even the rebels on the
English part; but I grieve to say these are Royalists, perhaps more
dangerous to the king's cause than even his open enemies. I will tell
you the circumstances presently; for there may yet be some mistake.
The spears we have seen are very distant, and few in number. Our good
friend above was quite right to give the alarm; but neither he nor I
could at all tell what troops they were, nor in what force. I will go
back and see more in a moment. In the mean time, however, dear mother,
it would be well to have all prepared for immediate departure. I can
not receive these gentlemen as friends in St. Florent, and they may be
very apt to treat those who do not do so as enemies. Dear Agnes, get
ready in haste. Tell Martin Grille to have my mother's litter ready; I
will return directly."
Thus saying, he again went up to the watch-tower, and remained gazing
along the valley of the Cher for ten minutes or a quarter of an hour.
There was much woodland in those days along that fair valley, and Jean
Charost could not satisfy himself. Spear heads he certainly descried;
but in the leafy covering of the scene they were lost almost as soon
as perceived, and he could not tell their numbers. At length he turned
to the warder, who stood silent, gazing out beside him, and pointed
out one particular spot in the landscape. "You see that large tree,"
he said; "an evergreen oak, it seems to be. The road divides there
into two; one turns eastward to the right, the other comes toward the
north. Watch those men well as they pass that spot. They must all show
themselves there. If there be more than fifty, and they come upon this
road, blow your horn twice and come down. If they take the other road,
remain quiet where you are till I come."
The preparations of Madame De Brecy, under the effect of fear, had
been very rapid; and she and Agnes were standing in the hall, ready
for departure. A page was there also, resting on a bench half covered
with armor, and, as soon as his lord appeared, he sprang to arm him,
asking, as Madame De Brecy had asked, "Are they the English?"
"No, boy--no!" replied De Brecy and then, turning to his mother, he
said, "There is no need of great haste. We shall hear more presently.
The fact is, the Count of Richmond," he continued, in a quiet,
narrative tone, "has ridden the court somewhat too hard. He forced La
Trimouille upon the king, as I told you the other night; and now he
would rule La Trimouille, and, through him, his sovereign. He found
himself mistaken, however; for Trimouille is a very different person
to deal with from Giac or Beaulieu. Finding himself opposed, he
determined to employ force; joined with himself the Counts of La
Marche and Clermont, and advanced upon Chatellerault. When I left
Poictiers, the king had chosen a decided part, and ordered the gates
of Chatellerault to be closed against the counts. It was supposed,
indeed, that the matter would be soon accommodated; for Richmond is
needful to the king, and is himself but a mere cipher, except when
serving his royal master. But since my arrival here, I have heard
that, instead of submitting dutifully, he has levied larger forces,
and is marching upon Bourges. If the troops I have seen be his, we
shall soon hear more, and then--though doubtless there would be no
great danger in staying--it may be better to retire before them. How
do you go, dear Agnes? In the litter with my mother?"
"Oh, no; I will ride," replied the beautiful girl. "I have become as
good a cavalier as any man in your band."
"Well, then, you shall be my second page," said Jean Charost, with a
smile. "Come and buckle this strap on my shoulder--the boy can hardly
reach it."
Agnes sprang forward and buckled the strap, and Jean Charost gayly
kissed her cheek, saying, "Thanks for the service, dear Agnes."
His tone and manner were altogether so easy and unconcerned, that even
Madame De Brecy could hardly suppose that there was any cause for
fear; but, a moment after, the trumpet was heard to sound twice from
the tower above, and then the step of the soldier descending the
stairs heavily.
"Now, dear mother," said Jean Charost, taking the old lady's hand,
"you must let me lead you to your litter; for these friends of ours
are coming this way. Run, boy, and tell Martin Grille and the rest to
mount, and be gone on the road to De Brecy. Come, Agnes, come."
All were soon in the court-yard. It may seem an ungallant comparison;
but all light things are more easily moved than weightier ones, and
women, like dust, are soon disturbed by bustle. The very haste with
which her son spoke destroyed all Madame De Brecy's confidence,
agitated and alarmed her. Even Agnes felt a sort of thrill of
apprehension come over her heart. But in those perilous times people
were drilled into promptitude. Madame De Brecy and two of the maids
wee soon in the litter, and Agnes mounted on her horse by Jean
Charost's side. She had seen him in times of suffering and of
captivity; she had seen him go forth to battle and to danger; she had
seen him in the chivalrous sports which in those times were practiced
in almost every castle in the land; but she had never ridden by his
side in the hour of peril and command. On many a former occasion, deep
interest, compassion, admiration perhaps, had been excited in her
bosom; but now other sensations arose as she heard the clear, plain
orders issue from his lips, and saw the promptness and submission with
which all around obeyed. Surely woman was formed to yield, and, beyond
all doubt, there is something very admirable to her eyes in the
display of power. But she was to witness more before the day closed.
As they issued forth upon the road down to the village of St. Florent,
nothing was to be seen which could create the least alarm; and,
turning toward Solier, all seemed fair and open. But still Jean
Charost was watchful and anxious, throwing out several men in front,
and detaching others to the rear, while, as they approached the little
valley which lies between the Cher and the Avon, and gives name to the
small hamlet of La Vallée, he sent one of the soldiers on whom he
could trust to the top of the church tower, to reconnoitre the country
around. The man came back at speed; and rejoined the party ere they
had proceeded far, bringing the intelligence that he had seen a
considerable body of horse following slowly at about half a league's
distance.
"Then we have plenty of time," said Jean Charost, in an easy tone; but
still he rather hurried the horses, and, mounting the hill, the towers
of Bourges were soon in sight.
At that time the road to Mont Luçon entered the road to Bourges much
nearer to the city than it does at present, and it was along the
former that the way of Jean Charost lay in going to De Brecy, if he
wished to avoid passing through the city itself. But as he approached
the point of separation, the sound of a trumpet on the right met his
ear, and, galloping up a little eminence, he saw a large body of
crossbow men, with some thirty or forty men-at-arms coming up from the
side of Luçon. They were near enough for the banners to be visible,
and he needed nothing more to decide him. Wheeling his horse, he
hurried down the hill again, and, speaking to his lieutenant, said,
"There are the men of La Marche in our way. There is nothing for it
but to go through Bourges."
"Here is Hubert come back from the front, sir," replied the lieutenant
at once, "to tell us that they have got a party on the bridge over the
Avon. They shouted to him to keep back; so they will never let us pass
into Bourges."
"The best reason for going forward," answered Jean Charost, in a gay
tone. "We are nicely entangled; but we have made our way through,
against worse odds than this. How many are there, Hubert?"
"Much about our own numbers, fair sir," replied the man. "The others
are a great deal further off; but we are right between them."
"Oh; Jean, will you be obliged to surrender?" asked Agnes, with a pale
face.
"Surrender!" exclaimed Jean Charost, pointing to his pennon, which was
carried by one of the men. "Shall De Brecy's pennon fall, my Agnes,
before, a handful of rebels, and you by my side? Give me my lance. Now
mark me, Dubois. The bridge is narrow; not more than two can pass
abreast. You lead the right file, Courbeboix the left. Valentin, with
the eight last men, escort the litter and this lady. The object is to
give them a free passage. We must beat the rebels back off the bridge,
and then disperse them over the flat ground beyond. Go back to the
side of the litter, my Agnes. 'Twere better you dismounted and joined
my mother. Go back, dear girl; we must lose no time. Now, loyal
gentlemen, use the spur. They have bid us back; I say, forward!"
Agnes was alarmed, but less for herself than for him; and,
notwithstanding the wish he had expressed, she kept her seat upon her
horse's back, with her eyes straining upon the front, where she saw
the plume of blue and white in De Brecy's crest dancing in the air, as
his horse dashed on.
On the little party went; words were passed forward from front to
rear; quicker and quicker they moved forward, till a short turn of the
road showed them the bridge over the Avon, partly occupied by a party
of horse, several of whom, however, had dismounted, and seemed to be
gazing nonchalantly up toward the walls of Bourges.
Jean Charost gave them no time to question or prepare; for he knew
right well who they were, and why they were there. Agnes saw him turn
for an instant in the saddle, shout loudly a word which she did not
clearly hear, and the next moment his horse dashed forward to the
bridge, at what seemed to her almost frantic speed. She saw him couch
his lance and bend over his saddle-bow; but the next instant, the
greater part of his troop following, hid him from her sight. There was
a momentary check to their headlong speed upon the bridge, and she
could clearly see some one fall over into the water. All the rest was
wild confusion--a mass of struggling men and horses rearing and
plunging, and lances crossed, and waving swords and axes. Oh, how her
young heart beat! But as she still gazed, not able to comprehend what
she beheld, one of the soldiers suddenly took her horse by the rein,
saying, "Come on, dear lady--come on. Our lord has cleared the way.
The bridge will be free in another minute. 'Tis seldom De Brecy gives
back before any odds."
Agnes could have kissed him; but on they went, and she soon saw that
he was right. Driven on into the open space beyond the bridge, the men
of the Count La Marche still maintained the combat; but they were
evidently worsted, for some were beaten back to the right, some to the
left, and some got entangled in the marshy ground, and seemed scarcely
able to extricate their horses. To Agnes's great joy, however, she saw
the blue and white plume still waving on the right, and a clear space
before them up to the walls of the city. Forward pressed the man who
had hold of her rein; the litter came after it, as fast as the horses
could bear it, followed by three or four servants in straggling
disarray, but flanked on either side by several stout men-at-arms.
This was not all, however, which Agnes saw when she looked back to
assure herself of the safety of Madame De Brecy. On the other side of
the bridge, and across the marsh which lies to the east, she beheld a
large, dark body of spears moving on rapidly, and at the same time, as
they came closer to the walls of the town, cries and shouts were
heard, apparently from within. "By the Lord! I believe they have won
the city," exclaimed the soldier who was guiding her; and almost at
the same moment, a man from the battlement over the gate shouted
something to the conductor, who replied, "The Seigneur De Brecy, just
from Poictiers. Long live King Charles!"
"Ride quick to the castle gate!" cried the man from above. "The Count
of Richmond is in the city. They are fighting in the streets; but we
are not enough to hold the town. To the castle--to the castle!" and he
himself ran along the battlements to the westward.
Agnes's guide turned in the same direction, but was met by De Brecy
coming at full speed, a little in advance of his men, who now,
gathered all together again in good order, were approaching the gate
which Agnes and her companion had just left.
Jean Charost heard the tidings with evident pain and anxiety; but
there was no time for deliberation, and, with one cheering word to
Agnes, he wheeled his horse and galloped on to another gate hard by,
close to which rose up the large round tower and smaller square keep
of the old citadel of Bourges. Strong works, according to the system
of fortification of that day, connected the castle with the gate
below, and the space between the wall and the marsh was very narrow,
so that the place was considered almost impregnable on that side. A
number of persons were seen upon the towers as Agnes rode on; and when
she reached the castle draw-bridge, she found De Brecy arguing with a
little group of armed men upon the crenelated gallery of the
gate-tower, who seemed little disposed to give him admission.
"Tell Monsieur De Royans," he exclaimed, "that it is his old friend De
Brecy; and in Heaven's name make haste! They are rallying in our rear,
and the other squadrons coming on. You can not suppose that I would
attack and rout my own friends. You have yourselves seen us at blows
on the meadow. Wheel the men round there, Dubois, behind the litter,"
he continued, shouting to his lieutenant. "Bring their spears down,
and drive those fellows into the marsh, if they come near enough."
As he spoke, however, the chains of the draw-bridge began to creak and
groan, a large mass of wood-work slowly descended, and the portcullis
was raised.
"Forward, Agnes, forward!" cried De Brecy, riding toward the rear; and
while he and a few of his followers kept the enemy in check, the rest
of the party passed over the bridge, till they were all closely packed
in the space between the portcullis and the gate. The latter was then
opened, and riding on, Agnes found herself in a small open sort of
court, surrounded by high walls, between the inner and the outer
gates. There were stone stair-cases leading up to the ramparts in
different directions, and down one of these flights a gentleman in
steel armor was coming slowly when the troop entered.
"Where is De Brecy?" he exclaimed, looking down upon the group below.
"I do not see him. Varlet, you have not shut him out?"
"No, no; I am here!" cried the voice of De Brecy, riding in from under
the arch, while the portcullis clanged, and the draw-bridge creaked
behind him.
"Pardi! De Brecy," cried the man from above, "you have brought us a
heap of women. Men are what we want, for we have only provisions for a
week, and we shall be closely pressed, I can tell you."
"Here are forty-seven horses," answered De Brecy, "which will feed the
whole castle for a month, in case of need. But is there no means of
passing through the town?"
"Impossible!" cried the other. "They are just now fighting in the
castle street, to bring in safely the grain out of the corn-market."
Agnes then, for the first time, became fully aware of her situation,
and that she was destined to be for some time the tenant of a small
citadel, closely besieged, and but very ill provided to resist.