AS soon as possible on the day after the arrival of his party in Paris,
the Count de Lannes made arrangements for an interview between his young
ambassadors and the King.
The seneschal of the palace, to whom Count Hugo was known, gave
permission to Raymond, Louis, and Agnes, with their proper attendants,
to seek the young King in the woods of Vincennes, where, on fine days,
he generally walked with some of his courtiers, after the daily
religious services which he always attended. In after years, when he
managed the affairs of his kingdom without interference from Queen
Blanche, and managed them, too, in such a way as to win for himself the
reputation of being the most just and honorable ruler that France or
Europe had ever known, Louis the Ninth used to hold regular audiences in
these beautiful woods, where those of his subjects who desired to
petition him or speak with him could do so with very little ceremony.
And even now the young King generally saw the few persons who asked
audience of him in this place, which was already becoming his favorite
promenade.
Louis, at the time of our story, was about twenty-two years old, but he
had been married at nineteen, and was crowned when he was but twelve.
His mother, who had been governing the country so long, still continued
to do so, and also governed her son and his wife, as if they had been
small children. She did not even allow them to see each other, excepting
at such times as she thought fit.
This may have been all very well for the nation, for Queen Blanche was a
wise and energetic woman, although very bigoted in regard to religious
affairs, but it must have greatly fretted the soul of the young monarch,
whose crown was like an expensive toy given to a child, but put up on a
high shelf, where he might look at it and call it his own, but must not
touch it.
The Count de Lannes knew of all this, but he thought it well that his
young people should address themselves to the King, who, being a young
person himself, and of a very kind disposition, would be apt to
sympathize with them and to take an interest in their unusual mission.
Not being much occupied with state or other affairs, it might happen
that he would give his mind to this matter; and if he could do nothing
himself he might interest his mother, who could do something.
It was a bright and pleasant day when Raymond, Louis, and Agnes,
followed by a lady and a page, with Jasto a little farther behind, and
Count Hugo and Sir Charles bringing up the rear at quite a distance,
were conducted to the King, who was seated under a large tree, with
three or four of his noble attendants standing around him.
When the three children approached him, and bent down on their knees
before him, as they had been told they must do, the King gave them a
smile of welcome, and bade them stand.
"And now, my little friends," he said, "what is it you would have of
me?"
[Illustration: AGNES MAKES A PLEA FOR THE MOTHER OF RAYMOND AND LOUIS.]
Raymond was a straightforward, honest boy, not backward to speak when he
should do so, and it had been arranged that he should be the spokesman.
But he had never seen a king, even a young one, and his heart failed
him. He looked at Louis, who, though bold enough, could not think of
anything but the astounding fact, which had suddenly struck upon his
mind, that this king was not old enough to be of any good to them. He
looked as young as some of the pages at the castle. The silence was a
little embarrassing, and both boys looked at Agnes. She did not want to
speak first, although she doubtless expected to say something on the
subject, but she presently saw she would have to begin, and so, with a
little flush on her face, she addressed the King:
"May it please you, sire," she said, "we have come to speak to you about
the mother of these two boys, who is the Countess of Viteau and is in
great trouble. We came to you because, as you are the King of France,
you can have the wicked business stopped instantly, until some good
persons can look into it; and if we went to any of the bishops or the
people of the Church, they would take a long time to think about it, and
the poor lady might suffer dreadfully before they would do a thing."
"I should gladly help you, my fair little lady," said the young King,
with a smile; "but, on my kingly honor, I can not imagine what you would
have me do. What is the wicked business, and what have bishops to do
with it? Bishops are lofty personages for such young people as you to
deal with."
"They are not so lofty as kings," remarked Louis, as the thought came
into his mind—although, indeed, he was not impressed with the loftiness
of any king present.
"You are right," said the King. "Some kings are loftier than bishops.
But come, one of you, explain your errand, that I may know how a poor
king can be more expeditious than a great bishop."
As the ice was now broken, and as Raymond knew that he could tell the
story better than either of the others, he began it, and laid the whole
matter, very clearly and fully, before the King, who listened to the
statement and to the petition for his interference with much attention
and interest.
"It is a sad, sad tale," he said, when he had heard it all; "but I see
not what action the King can take in a matter which belongs entirely to
the Church, and is subject to the ecclesiastical laws which extend over
France and all Christian countries. In such things, like my lowest
subject, I am but an humble follower of our holy fathers, who know what
is good for our souls."
"But it is her body, sire," exclaimed Agnes. "Think how she may suffer
before they find out about her soul! We are not afraid for her soul."
The young King smiled again, although he evidently did not think it
proper to smile about such subjects.
"My fair child," said he, putting his hand on Agnes's head, "you seem to
take this matter as greatly to heart as if the lady was your own
mother."
"My own mother is dead," said Agnes, "and I fear that I ought to be glad
of that, for she, too, was a pious lady, and knew how to read; and all
these things might have been done to her had she lived to see this day."
The King's face grew serious at this, and he was silent for a few
moments. But presently, turning to Raymond, he said:
"Then what you would have me do is to request these proceedings to be
stopped, until some learned and pious man, with mind not prejudiced in
this affair, shall examine into your mother's belief, and shall see if
there be cause or need that she be tried by the Inquisition?"
"That is all, good sire," said Raymond. "That is all we ask."
"I will lay this matter before my royal mother, the Queen," said the
King, "for she has far more knowledge of such subjects, and far more
influence with our clergy, than I have, and I fear me not that what you
desire will be readily obtained. It is a fair and reasonable request you
make, and I am right well pleased you came to me to make it. So be
comforted, my little friends. I will speak with the Queen this very day
in your behalf."
With this he rose, and with a smile and a little wave of the hand
dismissed his young petitioners. They were about to step back, when
Jasto, who had been gradually getting nearer and nearer to the central
group, so that he had heard all that had been said, pulled Louis by the
end of his doublet, and whispered in his ear:
"Ask if you shall come again, or if you may go home with the good news."
Then Louis advanced a little, and spoke up quickly, asking the question.
"Come to-morrow an hour earlier than this time," said the King, who
evidently was much interested in the matter,—the more so, perhaps,
because so little kingly business was submitted to him,—"and you shall
hear exactly what will be done, and who shall be sent to catechise the
Countess." He then walked away, and the children rejoined their elder
companions.
When Sir Charles heard of the suggestion made by Jasto, he slapped him
on the shoulder and said to him:
"You were always a good fellow, Jasto, with ideas suitable to the
occasion, both to speak and to write down with ink. Now I shall be able
to see this great city of Paris, which I have not visited for ten long
years."
And with minds relieved, and with the fresh and eager curiosity of young
people who had never seen a city before, our three friends accompanied
Sir Charles on a sight-seeing tour through Paris. The capital of France
was nothing like so large and wonderful as the Paris of to-day, but it
contained, among other public edifices, that great building, the Louvre,
which still stands, and which was then used, not only as a residence for
the King, but as a prison. There were also beautiful bridges across the
Seine, which runs through the city; the streets were paved, and there
were shops; there were many people, some going one way and some
another—some attending to their business, and some taking their ease,
with their families, in front of their houses; gayly dressed knights
were prancing through the streets on their handsome horses; ladies were
gazing from windows; artisans were at work in their shops, and,
altogether, the sights and delights of the Paris of 1236 produced upon
these three children very much the same effect that the Paris of 1883
would have produced upon them had they lived in our day.
A little before the appointed time, the next day, Raymond, Louis, and
Agnes, accompanied as at the previous interview, were in the woods of
Vincennes, and advanced to the spot where they were to meet the King.
In about a quarter of an hour, the young monarch made his appearance,
walking quite rapidly, and followed by several attendants. There was
much less ceremony observed in those days between royal personages and
their subjects than at present, and the King walked straight up to our
three friends and spoke to them.
"I am sorry," he said, "that I have not performed for you all the good
offices which you asked, and which I should gladly have performed. But
the Queen, who understands these important matters better than myself,
assures me that it would be an action unbefitting royalty to interfere
in this emergency which you have brought before me. It is a matter with
which the clergy and its appointed institutions have to do, and with
which the King can not meddle without detriment to Christianity, and to
the proper power and influence of the Church. Whatever ought to be done,
in order that the Countess of Viteau shall be justly treated in this
matter, will, as I am earnestly assured, be done. And with this," he
continued, after a moment's hesitation, "we ought all to be satisfied;
ought we not? It was to discover the truth, and to uphold and support
good Christians, that the Inquisition was established, and it is not
fitting that the King or the nobility of France should doubt or fear the
justice of its actions and decisions."
At these words, Agnes burst into tears; Louis, too, began to sob, and
Raymond stood pale and trembling. Count Hugo and Sir Charles, perceiving
that something unhappy had occurred, drew near their young charges,
while the courtiers about the King exchanged looks of compassion, as
they gazed upon the sorrowful children.
"There is but one thing, then, to do," exclaimed Raymond, half turning
away. "We must fly to England."
"What?" exclaimed the King; "to England! Fly? What means that?"
"In England," said Louis, his voice half-choked with tears, "the King
does not allow——"
At this point Raymond gave his brother such a pull by the arm that he
instantly stopped speaking, to turn around and see what was the matter,
and then Raymond spoke:
"My Lord King," he said, "we must now make our way with our mother to
England, because there we shall be safe from the power of the
Inquisition. It may be that its trials may be just and right, but we
have heard something of the horrible tortures that its prisoners have to
bear, to prove whether they will tell the truth or not; and, while I
live, my mother, my own dear mother, shall never be dragged from her
home and be made to go through such a trial. I would kill her first
myself."
"And so would I," cried Louis, "if Raymond were dead!"
"Oh, boys!" exclaimed Agnes, imploringly, "do not say such horrible
things!"
The King, apparently, had not heard these latter remarks. For a moment
he seemed in troubled thought, and then he said, half to himself:
"Can it be that a noble lady, and a pious one, I doubt not, must flee my
dominions, to take refuge with Henry of England, because, as it appears,
she is persecuted by enemies, and threatened with the rigors of the
Inquisition, which, whatever they be, may perhaps well frighten the
souls of a gentle dame and these poor children!"
"And they could not certainly save themselves by flight, sire," said the
courtiers, "for the Pope could doubtless order them to be apprehended
and remanded to these shores."
"Is there, then, no place to which we can fly?" cried little Agnes. "For
I am going, too. Father and I will go."
The young King made no reply. He stood, silent and pale. Then, stepping
forward a little, his head held very high, and his eyes sparkling, he
said:
"Do not fly to any land. Leave not France. You are as safe here as in
any spot on earth. Go back to your mother, my brave youth, and tell her
that her own King will protect her from needless molestation, and will
give that opportunity she asks for to show her true faith and sound
belief. I will desire, as a favor to myself, that the Inquisition shall
cease its action against this lady until some wise and learned members
of our clergy, whom I will send to her to inquire into this matter,
shall give their fair and well-considered opinion of it. And now," said
he, turning to his courtiers, his face flushed with youthful pride, "I
feel more like a king of France than I ever felt before."
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