several of those around him; and then, calling a page, he whispered
to him, "Go with speed to Monsieur Chapelle Marteau. Tell him to let
me see him at midnight. I should also like to see Monsieur de Magnac,
one of the Presidents of the Nobles. You will very likely find him
in his cabinet at the Palais de Justice. I would fain see them
both.--Gentlemen, the King will soon be in the hall, where you had
better meet his Majesty. I must be absent for a few moments, and you
will therefore pardon me."
Thus saying the Duke left them, and followed by one or two attendants,
proceeded to the apartments assigned especially to himself.
In the mean while the rest of the nobles hurried from the chateau to
various parts of the town, in order to accompany their wives and
daughters to a great assembly of the Court, which was to be held that
night in the grand hall of the castle. In the same hall the meetings
of the States-General of the kingdom usually took place, when the
three orders assembled together; but, as it was considered probable
that they would deliberate separately for some days to come, the hall
had been arranged that night, as we have said, for the reception of
the Court; and in it soon appeared almost all the splendid nobility of
France brought into Blois by the meeting of the States. The Duke of
Guise, however, had not yet arrived when the King appeared, and much
was the surprise and wonder of all that he did not show himself. In
about ten minutes after, however, there was a whisper near the great
doors of "The Duke! the Duke is coming! He is in the corridor speaking
to Brissac:" and after the pause of an instant, the two wings of the
door were thrown open, and Guise, followed by a long and brilliant
train, and himself decorated with the collars and jewels of all the
first orders in Europe, entered the great hall and advanced towards
the King. With him appeared the lovely form of Marie de Clairvaut,
leaning on his left arm, while, dressed with all that splendour to
which the fashion of the day lent itself, appeared upon his right the
young Count of Logeres, somewhat thinner and somewhat paler than he
had been when he before presented himself at the Court of France, but
with his head high, and proud with the best kind of pride, the
consciousness of rectitude, and his eye bright with the excitement of
the moment and the scene. The eyes of Marie de Clairvaut were bent
down, and there was a slight but not ungraceful embarrassment in her
manner, from the consciousness that many late events which had
befallen her would attract more than usual attention to herself.
Advancing straight towards the King and Queen, the Duke of Guise took
Marie's hand in his, saying, "Allow me to present to your Majesties my
dear niece and ward. Mademoiselle de Clairvaut, and permit me also to
present to you my friend----;" and he laid particular emphasis on the
word, "the Count of Logeres, whom, with your Majesty's permission, and
this fair Lady's consent, I destine to be her husband. Were it
possible to give him a higher treasure than herself, I should be bound
to do it, as if it had not been for him, and for his skill, courage,
and determination on two occasions, my head would have been now in the
dust, and I should not now have had the hope of serving your Majesty
well, faithfully, and successfully, as I trust to do."
From his first entrance, and while he spoke, a low murmur had run
through the whole Court, some inquiring who the gentleman was that
accompanied him, the few who knew Charles of Montsoreau whispering his
name, and all, as it passed round, expressing their surprise at the
re-appearance of one supposed to be dead. The Duke of Guise in the
mean time turned to Villequier, who had at first become pale at the
sight of Charles of Montsoreau.
"Monsieur de Villequier," said the Duke, "you were desirous of knowing
the name of the friend for whom I destine my niece. Allow me to
present him to you in the person of the Count of Logeres, whom I trust
you will soon congratulate upon their marriage." And while he spoke he
ran the finger of his right hand gently down his baldric towards the
hilt of his sword, with a gesture significant enough, but which could
only be seen by Villequier.
Having said this, the Duke and his party retired to a space left for
them on the King's right hand, and the various entertainments of the
evening commenced, the King, who had been rather amused than otherwise
at the reappearance of Charles of Montsoreau, giving himself up to one
of those bursts of gaiety, which occasionally ran into somewhat
frantic excesses.
We cannot pause here to describe the scene. All was splendour and
amusement; and in the light Court of France the circumstances in
which Marie de Clairvaut was placed were sufficient to draw around her
all the gay, and the gallant, and the idle. Unaccustomed to such
scenes--less accustomed, indeed, than even she was--the eye of Charles
of Montsoreau turned towards her from time to time, with perhaps some
anxiety, to see how she would bear the homage that was paid to her;
whether, in short, it would be the same Marie de Clairvaut in the
midst of flattery and adulation and that bright and glittering scene,
that it had been with him in the calm quiet of country life, in more
than one solitary journey, and in many a scene of peril, danger, and
distress. Whenever he looked that way, however, he saw the same sweet,
calm, retiring demeanour; and more than once he found her eyes seeking
him out in some distant part of the hall, and her lips light up with a
bright smile as soon as their glances met. He felt, and he felt
proudly, that there was none there present who could doubt that her
guardian's choice was her own also.
With the irregularity which marked all Henry's conduct at that period,
after remaining for half an hour with the appearance of the utmost
enjoyment, the King suddenly became sombre and gloomy; and, after
biting his lip and knitting his brow for a few minutes, turned and
quitted the hall. All was immediately the confusion of departure, and
Charles of Montsoreau made his way across to where the Duke of Guise
was seen standing, towering above all the rest. The young Count had
remarked, that in the course of the evening the Duke had been speaking
long and eagerly with a lady of extraordinary beauty, who stood at
some distance from the royal party; and he had heard her named as the
Marchioness of Noirmontier, with a light jest from more than one
tongue at her intimacy with the Duke. When he now reached the side of
that Prince she had passed on, and was bending over Mademoiselle de
Clairvaut, and speaking to her with a look of tenderness and
admiration.
"Come on Count, come on," said the Duke, in a low but somewhat sharp
tone, as soon as his young friend joined him. And they advanced to the
side of the two ladies at the moment that Madame de Noirmontier was
urging Marie to spend a few days with her at her beautiful chateau
some way down the Loire. The Duke, however, did not suffer his ward to
reply.
"I fear, dear Madam," he said in a decided and somewhat stern tone,
"that it cannot be."
The colour rushed violently up into the cheeks of Madame de
Noirmontier, and the tears seemed ready to spring into her eyes. But
the Duke added, "Logeres, escort Marie back to my apartments. If you
will permit me, Madam, I will be your attendant to your carriage, and
explain why my young ward cannot have the extreme pleasure and honour
you intended for her."
"It needs no explanation, your Highness," replied the Marchioness,
raising her head proudly. "I intended to have staid some days longer in
this neighbourhood; but as she cannot come to me, I shall return at
once to Paris."
The Duke looked mortified, but still offered her his hand; and when he
rejoined his own party in the apartments assigned to him, he was
somewhat gloomy and abstracted.
CHAP. IX.
"His Highness, Sire," said one of the attendants to Henry III. on the
following day, "His Highness of Guise is not to be found this morning.
His servants say that he has gone forth on horseback, followed only by
two grooms: but whither he has turned his steps, no one seems rightly
to know."
"Seek him with Madame de Noirmontier," said Villequier, who stood
beside the King.
But Henry, however, who was in no mood for jesting at that moment,
replied sharply, "He is playing with me! He is playing with me! He
mocks me! He will repent it some day! And I think you mock me too,
Villequier, to talk of Madame de Noirmontier at this moment. Have you
not heard this business of Savoy? He knew it last night, and said
nothing of it; and I'll tell you what more he has done, Villequier,
which you may like as little as I like the other. He has fixed the day
for the marriage of his niece with that bold young Logeres. But this
business of Savoy is terrible, and these mutinous States will be the
ruin of the realm."
"Sire," replied Villequier, "your Majesty must remember that I am
somewhat in darkness, in twilight at least. I have heard a rumour that
the Savoyard is in arms in France. But what of the States?"
"Why, they are even now discussing," exclaimed the King, "whether
there shall be war or not, even to defend our invaded territory. There
are the Clergy now arguing it at the Jacobins, the Nobles in the
Palais de Justice, and the Third Estate in the Hotel de Ville,--all,
all showing a disposition to hesitate at such a moment; and Guise, the
Generalissimo of my armies, and Grand Master of my household absent.
Heaven knows where!"
"The devil knows best, most likely," replied Villequier with a calm
smile. "But, perhaps, the secret may be, that the Duke of Savoy is
son-in-law of the King of Spain. Now, the King of Spain has been a
good friend to the Duke of Guise, and the good Pope used always to say
that a Guise never jumped higher than the King of Spain liked."
"By my faith!" replied the King, "I sometimes think that this same
gloomy Philip is more sovereign in France than the King thereof. But
here come tidings from the Tiers Etats. Come, Monsieur Artau, how have
gone the deliberations of the States? What say our good Commons to war
with Savoy?"
"They go against it altogether, Sire," replied the officer who now
entered. "Chapelle Marteau spoke against it vehemently, declared that
it was but a plundering excursion of some light troops, who had
carried off a few thousand crowns, while it would cost many millions
to carry on a war with Savoy: and then, up got another, and talked of
imposts and taxes and the poverty of the state, and said that millions
and hundreds of millions had been lost in peculation and extravagance.
If your Majesty indeed, he said, would bear two-thirds of the expense
out of your domain, and would cut down your tall trees, or mortgage a
part of the royal forests, the Commons would see what could be done."
"By Heaven!" exclaimed Henry stamping his foot, "when they keep me
here, a throned beggar, without a crown in my pocket, to give a jewel
to a mistress or a friend, they expect me to carry on the defence of
the country at my own expense! On my soul! I have a great mind to cast
away the sceptre, to go down into the ranks of a private gentleman,
and name my rule-loving mother to govern in my stead: or faith, I care
not if it were Guise himself. He would teach these surly citizens what
it is to have an iron rod over their heads. By the Lord! he would not
spare the backs of the porkers. Hie thee, good Artau to the Clergy at
the Jacobins; see what they say to the matter. And what say you,
Villequier, to my scheme of abdicating?"
"Why, Sire," replied Villequier calmly, "I think it is an excellent
good one. But I hope, in the first place, that you will give a few
thoughts to what I told you concerning the young Marquis de Montsoreau
and the hundred thousand crowns he promised on the day of his marriage
with Mademoiselle de Clairvaut. You know your Majesty has claimed the
lion's share; and seventy-five thousand crowns at the present moment,
or any time between this and Christmas, might serve to give your
Majesty a new lace to your doublet, or a new doublet to your lace, for
to my mind both are plaguy rusty. Now, though the re-appearance of
this young Count of Logeres will cut down the amount of his brother's
estates most terribly, yet that affects me more than you, Sire; and by
having made inquiries I find, to a certainty, that he is quite capable
of paying the money the moment the marriage is concluded."
"Seventy-five thousand crowns!" repeated the King thoughtfully.
"Seventy-five thousand crowns! Why, my friend, I think that neither
you or I have heard of such a thing since we had beards. But how does
all this square with my giving the crown to Guise, which you approved
so highly?"
"Oh, extremely well, Sire," replied Villequier. "The crown I would
have you give him is neither the crown of France nor of Poland: I
would give him an immortal crown, Sire. You will fit him better,
depend upon it, that way than with a terrestrial one. His aspiring
spirit seeks the skies, and, could I deal with him, should very soon
find them. However, you will remember that your royal word, as well as
mine, is pledged to the young Marquis de Montsoreau."
A dark smile came over the King's face. "We will see, Villequier; we
will see," he said. "My word must be kept and shall not be broken. The
morning of Christmas-day the Duke has fixed for the marriage. Who
knows what may happen between this and then, Villequier. She is then
absolutely your ward failing the Duke of Guise, and we will have no
hesitation or delay, when we have the power to compel obedience. But
we must be very cautious, Villequier; we must be very cautious. We
must neither seem pleased with this business of the marriage, for then
he would suspect us of some concealed design; nor must we oppose him
strongly, because that would put him on his guard; and I fear me, that
all the crowns in France could not do me so much good as the Duke of
Guise could do me harm if he were offended."
"Without being slain," replied Villequier in a low tone. "Oh no, my
Lord, I know well, a wounded boar is always the most dangerous."
The King smiled again in the same dark and sinister manner, but he
made no reply to Villequier's insinuation--perhaps still doubtful of
his own purposes, perhaps prevented from speaking openly by the return
of Monsieur D'Artau.
"What! so soon come back?" exclaimed Henry. "You cannot judge of the
tone of the assembly, D'Artau. You should have heard more of their
deliberations."
"There was no more to hear, Sire," replied D'Artau. "The Clergy were
all agreed; every body had become wonderfully pacific in a moment.
There had not been one voice raised for war, and fifty or sixty were
raised against it; so their deliberations, as I have said, were almost
concluded at the time I entered. They went to no vote, indeed, upon
the subject, but agreed to pass on to another question."
"The villains! the crows!" exclaimed the King. "What did they give us
as reasons, did you hear?"
"Why, they said, Sire," replied the officer, "that they had taxed
themselves, time after time, for the purpose of carrying on the war
with the Huguenots; that they had now again taxed themselves to the
utmost of their means, and would not consent that any part of the sum
thus raised should be diverted to make war upon their fellow
Catholics, while nothing had yet been done against the enemies of
their faith."
"The specious hypocrites!" exclaimed Henry. "But what said they all to
the absence of the Duke of Guise?"
"It was said, Sire, as I heard, by several people, that he had
evidently absented himself from policy, not wishing to oppose your
Majesty, and yet unwilling to go to war with Savoy. Some said, indeed,
Sire," he continued, "that Chapelle Marteau had acknowledged that this
was the case. But that could not be so either, for the Duke sent for
the President of the Tiers Etats last night, without being able to
find him. That I know from the servants, so that what Chapelle said
must have been out of his own head; while, on the contrary, I hear
that Monsieur Magnac and the Count de Brissac, who were with the Duke
for more than an hour last night, spoke vehemently against the Duke of
Savoy amongst the Nobles at the Palais de Justice. Thus the Nobles
were as unanimous for the war, as the other two States were against
it."
"That should be the foot-fall of a Guise in the antechamber," said the
King. "Who is without there?"
"The Duke of Guise, your Majesty," said a page entering almost as the
King spoke, "craves audience for a moment."
"Admit him," said the King; "admit him:" and the next instant the Duke
of Guise entered hastily in a riding dress.
"Your Majesty's gracious pardon," he said, "for presenting myself
before you thus: but I heard tidings, as I came along, which I
believed might give you great and exceeding pain."
"Well may it give me pain, cousin of Guise," replied the King. "Well
may it give me pain, to find that my subjects are so insensible to
their own honour or to mine, as to suffer a foreign enemy to encamp
upon our native soil, without doing what best we may to drive him
forth."
"It may, indeed, Sire," replied the Duke of Guise. "But the matter has
not been properly explained; and neither the Tiers Etats nor the
Clergy have seen it in its true light."
"But where was the Duke of Guise to explain it?" demanded Henry.
"Where was the Generalissimo of my armies, the Lieutenant-general of
my kingdom, the Grand Master of my household, the man whose voice is
only second to my own in France--ay, and by Heavens! whose voice is
sometimes first likewise? Where was he, I say; and how came he not to
be present?"
"From the simplest of all possible causes, Sire," replied the Duke.
"The business regularly appointed for this morning's discussion by the
States was a mere trifling matter of some petty impost. I had not told
your Majesty last night of this affair of Savoy, because I thought it
would spoil the pleasure of your evening, and perhaps disturb your
rest. I myself, however, neglected nothing. I instantly dispatched
orders, in your Majesty's name, to my brother of Mayenne, to advance
towards Piedmont with troops from Lyons. Before I rested, I sent for
the Presidents of the Nobles and of the Tiers Etats. The latter,
however, was not to be found; but I told Brissac and Magnac what had
occurred, and begged them to prepare all minds for vigorous measures
against Savoy, without disclosing the actual fact of aggression, that
fact having only reached me by the excessive speed of my brother's
courier. I felt perfectly certain that the news could not be known
till to-night or to-morrow morning; and how it happened that your
Majesty was informed of it so early, as to send down a message thereon
to each of the three Estates, I really do not know."
"Very simply, my good cousin of Guise," replied the King, whose face
had now relaxed from the harsh and acrid aspect it had borne
throughout the morning; "it was Miron told me."
"I had forgotten, I had forgotten," replied the Duke. "He was in the
room when the packet arrived, and I must have given vent to my
thoughts aloud."
"Well, under such circumstances," replied the King, "I suppose I must
pardon, cousin of Guise, your having gone to pay your homage somewhere
else, as Monsieur de Villequier insinuates, when the King much wanted
your presence."
"Monsieur de Villequier is, as usual, wrong," replied the Duke of
Guise frowning upon him. "Where he seeks for or finds such abundance
of evil motives to attribute to other men, I do not know. May it not
be in his own bosom? I went, for your Majesty's service, to inspect a
body of three thousand men, about to march early this morning from
Laucome to join the army of the Duke of Nevers, and it was only as I
returned that I heard of this unfortunate business."
"Perhaps his Highness thinks," said Villequier, not unwilling to
increase any feeling of ill-will between the King and the Duke,
"perhaps his Highness thinks that your Majesty would have done more
wisely to have waited till his return, and not to have communicated
the news from Savoy at all to the States, till you had consulted him
upon it."
Villequier had almost said, "till you had asked his permission;" but
he feared that a part of the King's anger might fall back upon
himself. The Duke of Guise, however, saw through all his purposes in a
moment, and replied, "Far from it, Monsieur de Villequier! I think, on
the contrary, that I should have done more wisely if, instead of
inspecting the troops at all--although Nevers, who is my enemy, might
have reproached me for neglect--I had waited till the King had risen,
to convey the expression of his will in person to the States-General,
Sire, I humbly crave your Majesty's pardon for this one instance of
neglect; and, to prove how sorry I am that it has occurred, I will
undertake to show the Clergy and the Commons such good motives for
changing their decision, that your Majesty's name and honour shall not
suffer by the invasion of your territories unresisted."
"They will refuse you, Guise; they will refuse you," replied the King.
"I know them well. You think to rule them, Guise; but the first time
you speak of money to Commons or to Clergy, you will find that
cabalistic word, money, acts on them as the sign of the cross upon the
fiends we read of, and makes the seeming angels resume their shapes of
devils in a moment."
"Well, Sire, well," exclaimed the Duke of Guise, tossing his lofty
head with a proud smile, "if they refuse us, we will shame them. You
and I together will put our lances in the rest, as in days of old: we
will call the nobility of France about us; and I will promise, at my
own expense, without craving these penurious Commons for a sol, with
my own men and your Majesty's good help, in three weeks' time to drive
the Savoyard back to his mountain den. But no, Sire, no! They will not
refuse me; and I pledge myself before this hour to-morrow to bring you
such tidings from both clergy and commons as you could wish to hear."
"If you do, cousin," cried the King eagerly, "if you do, you are my
best of friends and counsellors for ever."
"Fear not. Sire; fear not," replied the Duke of Guise; "I will be bold
to undertake it. But I must see the presidents and some of the
deputies speedily, to know what are the vain and idle notions on which
they have hesitated in regard to a step imperatively necessary. I will
therefore humbly take my leave, beseeching you to think well of me
during my absence, even though my good Lord of Villequier be at your
Majesty's right elbow."
Thus saying the Duke retired, and the King, turning to Villequier,
asked with some anxiety "Think you, Villequier, that he will succeed?"
"I know not, Sire," replied Villequier; "but I should judge not. They
have too far committed themselves to retract, let the question be what
it would, but are not at all likely to retract where money is
concerned."
"Well, well," said the King; "I will hope the best. And now,
Villequier, we must think of what can be done, in order not to lose
the seventy-five thousand crowns. Mort Dieu! What a sum! In the very
first place, we must call hither your young friend, wherever he may
be, without loss of an hour. We must not have him appear at the Court,
however. He must lie concealed, but be ready at a moment's notice. Let
him bring what men he can with him. But above all, do not let him
forget the crowns, Villequier. Let them be prepared.--Nay, smile not,
I have a scheme for the purpose, which will mature itself in time. But
no good plan should ever be hurried, and it should always be formed of
elements as ductile as warm wax, that it may fit itself into the mould
of circumstances. It will mature itself in time, Villequier; it will
mature itself in time. But now to this other terrible business."
"Pray, Sire, what is that?" demanded Villequier with some alarm, for
since his arrival at Blois Henry had shown so much more activity and
application to serious matters, that even his favourite had forgotten
his character. "Pray, what terrible business does your Majesty speak
of?"
"Have you not heard," exclaimed the King, "have you not heard, that
the boat was upset in coming down the Loire--the boat with the parrots
and monkeys; and my great beautiful black ape, Ridolin-din-din, was
nearly drowned, and has caught such a cold, that it is feared he will
die!--Sweet creature, he is a beauty, and in his woollen nightcap and
long gown is not at all unlike my mother. Poor fellow, have you not
heard him coughing in the room beyond? I must go and give him some
confection of quinces."