CHAPTER XXXIII.

The clang of trumpets echoing through the streets of Ghent, an hour

before daybreak, announced that the body of forces under the command

of the young President was about to set out upon its expedition; and

as the burghers started from their sleep, and listened to the various

sounds that followed--the trampling of horses, the voices of the

officers, and the dull measured tread of marching men, not

unfrequently did a feeling of pride rise in their bosoms from that

universal principle--"the extension of the idea of self;" as each one

felt that the army thus on its march was, in some degree, his own, as

part and parcel of the city of Ghent.

To the ears of none in the whole town, however, did the sounds come

more pleasantly than to those of the druggist Ganay, who had felt,

within the last two days, a sort of thirst to see the back of him he

had once loved, turned upon the city; for, though--with that degree of

pride in his cunning, which artful men often possess--he did not

usually apprehend that his wit would fail in a struggle with that of

any other being; yet there was something in the unaccountable

knowledge of foregone facts which Albert Maurice had displayed, that

made him entertain a vague fear of the young citizen, and rendered him

unwilling to venture any very bold stroke till Ghent was free from his

presence.

The first sound of the trumpet fell upon his ear as he sat watching

the bed of the wounded Lord of Neufchatel, into whose sick chamber he

had obtruded himself with an officious zeal, which might have been

resented by the noble's attendants, had he not, by quiet and soothing

attentions, rendered himself useful, and his presence pleasing to the

invalid himself, while a long attendance on a sick and fretful old

man, had cooled and wearied those who were at first most active in his

service. A restless and feverish night had passed away; and, as

morning came, the ancient Seneschal of Burgundy showed some

inclination to fall asleep; but the first braying of the trumpets

roused him; and he eagerly demanded what those sounds meant. The

druggist explained the cause at once; and the enfeebled warrior shook

his head with a melancholy air, as he heard the call to horse sounded

again, without being able to raise a limb from his couch.

"'Twas not so when first you knew me, Master Ganay?" he said; and

then--while one sound succeeded another, and squadron after squadron

marched forth through the streets--he continued to murmur a number of

low and somewhat incoherent sentences, between the delirium of

feverish irritation and the drowsiness of exhaustion. At length, as a

faint bluish light began to gleam into the chamber from the dawning of

the morning, the last horseman passed the gates of the court-yard, and

all Ghent resumed its former stillness.

The old man would then have addressed himself to sleep again; but

Ganay now recalled his mind to the subject of his brighter days, with

an extraordinary degree of pertinacity. "Nay, nay, my noble lord," he

said, returning to the topic of their early acquaintance; "when first

I saw your lordship, you would little have suffered an army to march,

while you lay still in bed."

"Not I, not I, indeed!" replied the Lord of Neufchatel. "But what can

one do?"

"Alack, nothing now," answered the druggist; "but think that you never

flinched while you could keep the saddle. You were as eager a rider in

those days as ever I met--ay! and somewhat hasty withal."

"Ah! my good Ganay, are you there now?" said the old lord. "Have you

not forgot that yet? Well, man, I did you wrong; but have I not tried

to make atonement? I did you wrong, I do believe from my soul."

"Believe, my lord!" cried Ganay; "are you not sure? Are not the very

papers you possess convincing enough of my innocence?"

"Well, well, perhaps they are," replied the old man, somewhat

impatiently.

"Perhaps they are!" exclaimed the other. "Nay, surely they are. But

let me fetch and read them to your lordship--where can I find them?"

"They are in the Venice cabinet, I think," answered the Lord of

Neufchatel; "but never mind them--never mind them! I tell thee I am

convinced--what need of more? I would fain sleep now, if the accursed

itching of this thrust in my shoulder would let me. Call the boy with

his rote, good Ganay; he often puts me to sleep by playing on his

instrument--or the man that tells stories: he is better still. I never

fail to grow drowsy as soon as he begins, and to snore before he has

half done."

"Take but a cup of this elixir, my lord," answered the druggist. "Mind

you not, how it refreshed you yesterday morning?"

"Surely," cried the old lord, in a peevish tone. "Have you any more?

Why did you not give it me sooner? How could you see me suffer so all

night, and not give me that which alone eases me?"

"Because, if used too often, it loses its effect," replied the

druggist.

"Give it me--give it me now, then!" cried the invalid, impatiently.

"When would you give a man medicine but when he is ill and in pain?

Spare not, man--let the dose be full. Thou shalt be well paid for thy

drugs."

Ganay took up a cup from the table, and nearly filled it with a

dark-coloured liquid from a phial which he drew out of his bosom. He

then gave it to the old noble, who drank off the contents at once,

while the druggist gazed on him with an eye which seemed almost

starting from its socket, so intense was the look of eager interest

with which he regarded him.

"Are you sure it is the same?" said the Lord of Neufchatel, returning

the cup; "it tastes differently; it is bitterer, and has a faint taste

as of earth. It is--it is--not so----"

But, as he spoke, the lids of his eyes fell; he opened them drowsily

once or twice, added a few more almost inarticulate words, and then

sunk back upon his pillow. Ganay looked at him intently for two or

three minutes; then stole out of the room; and, descending with a

quiet step to the hall, he woke his own serving-boy, who was sitting

by the fire. "Hie thee to the Prevot," he whispered; "bid him hither

instantly!"

"Who goes there?" cried the servant on watch, who had been asleep

also, but was now wakened by the boy opening the door, "Who goes

there?"

"Only my boy," answered Ganay, "going for some drugs against my good

lord wakes--I would have healed him sooner than all the leeches in the

town, had I but tried it before; but, of course, I could not meddle

till he dismissed the surgeon in such wrath."

"How goes he now, Master Ganey?" demanded the man.

"Better, I hope!" replied the druggist, "but he has had a fearful

night. He now sleeps, and I think it is a crisis. If he wake better,

he will do well. If not, he dies."

"God forfend!" cried the man.

Ganay echoed loudly the wish, and retired once more to the sick man's

chamber. Entering with stealthy steps, he approached the bed, and

gazed upon him that it contained. A slight stream of dark fluid had

flowed from his mouth, and stained his pillow; and Ganay, as he

remarked this appearance, muttered, "The stomach has rejected it! He

must take more. To leave it half done, were worse than all! Here, my

lord!" he added, aloud, shaking him by the arm--"Here! take a little

more of the same blessed elixir!"

But the old man made no answer, except by a long deep-drawn sigh; and

Ganay, adding, "He has had enough," sat down, and turning his face

from the lamp, continued gazing for some minutes upon the couch. From

time to time, as he sat and looked, a few muttered words would escape

his lips; and often he would turn and listen for the sounds in the

street, as if impatient for the coming of some one from without.

"The Venice cabinet!" he muttered, "that stands in the small arras

chamber by the saloon! Could one reach it, now, unperceived! But no.

'Tis better to wait till Du Bac arrives; some of the varlets might

catch me, and all were ruined; better wait till he comes. He is very

tedious, though--It works but slowly! He has had hardly enough--What

can be done?--He cannot take any more!--That is a long-drawn sigh--it

should be the last--A little help were not amiss, though!" and so

saying, he pressed his hand heavily on the chest of the old Lord of

Neufchatel.

It rose once slightly against the weight; but death and life were by

this time so nearly balanced in his frame, that it rose but once, and

then all was quiet. Still Ganay continued the pressure with his whole

force, till suddenly the eyes opened, and the jaw dropped; and the

murderer instinctively started back, fancying that his victim was

awaking from his slumber. But he instantly perceived that what he saw

was but the sign of a longer and more profound sleep having taken the

old man to repose for ever; and, after one more glance to satisfy

himself that no means of resuscitation could prove available, he

loudly called upon the servants and attendants to give him help, for

that their lord was dying. It was some time before he made them hear;

for the illness of the old noble had been long and tedious, and

kindness had been wearied, and attention worn out. When they did come,

therefore, the druggist had some excuse to rate them severely for

inattention and sloth. He affected to try many means of recalling the

dead to life again, and proposed to send for skilful leeches, as soon

as he heard the voice of Maillotin du Bac in the hall below.

That officer now came boldly in, and, stopping all other proceedings,

demanded whether any relation of the dead lord were in the house. The

answer, as he knew it must be, was in the negative; for--as the

servants replied--all his connexions were in the far parts of

Burgundy. "Well, then," cried the Prevot, "it becomes me, though not

exactly the proper officer, to seal up all the doors and effects of

the deceased, till such time as account can be taken. You, my men," he

continued, to the archers of the band that followed him, "gather all

these worthy servants and varlets together in the great hall, and see

that no one stirs a step, till I have asked them a question or two.

You, Master Ganay, being one of the magistrates of the town, had

better come with me, to bear witness that I seal all things fairly.

You, my good lieutenant, bring me some wax and a chafing dish, and

then return to the hall, to guard these worthy fellows till I come."

The domestic attendants of the old lord, amongst whom were several of

his ancient military retainers, grumbled not a little at this

arrangement, and might have shown somewhat more stubborn resistance,

had not the force brought by the Prevot overmatched them in numbers as

well as in preparations. One of them, however, whispered to a boy who

was amongst them, to slip out and warn the other retainers in the

lodging over the way; the house, or rather houses, of the deceased

noble, extending, as was not uncommon in those times, to both sides of

the street. With this intimation to the boy, and one or two loud

oaths, which the Prevot would not hear, the servants were removed, and

the two accomplices stood together in the dead man's chamber alone.

Such sights were too familiar to Maillotin du Bac, to cause even the

slightest feeling of awe to cross his bosom, as he gazed on the face

of the corpse; and after looking at it for a moment in silence, he

turned to the druggist with a well-satisfied smile, but without

farther comment.

"Let us make haste!" cried Ganay--"the papers are in the Venice

cabinet, in the little arras chamber by the saloon."

"Wait for the wax! Wait for the wax, man!" replied the Prevot; "there

is plenty of time. Let us do things orderly. You seek for the keys in

the meantime. They are in that cupboard, probably. Where is its own

key? But never mind; I will put back the lock with my dagger."

This was soon accomplished, and the open door exposed, as the Prevot

had expected, several large bunches of keys, and a leathern bag, which

bore all the marks of being swelled out with coined pieces of some

kind. The druggist seized upon the keys, and carefully concealed them

on his person; but the Prevot dipped his hand zealously into the heart

of the leathern bag, drawing it forth, and then plunging it deep into

his own bosom, without at all examining what his fist contained. After

two or three such dives down into the pouch, which grew somewhat lank

and wrinkled under its intercourse with the Prevot's hand, he raised

it, as if to see how much it still contained, murmuring--"We must

leave some!"

An approaching step now caused him to replace it hastily, and close

the door; and, as soon as the lieutenant brought him the wax and

chafing dish, Maillotin du Bac proceeded to secure that cupboard

first, using the hilt of his dagger as a seal.

The inferior officer was speedily sent away; and the Prevot instantly

turned to his companion, saying, "Now to the Venice cabinet, if you

will. You know the way better than I: lead on."

"This way, then! this way!" answered the druggist, "we will go by the

back passage;" and opening another door, he hurried on through several

corridors, till they entered what had been the great saloon of the

hotel. They paused not to feel, and still less to comment on the

gloomy aspect which association gives to a festive chamber, the lord

of which is just gone down to the gloomy dust; but crossing it as fast

as possible, they entered a small room beyond, which was hung all

round with rich arras tapestry, and which, besides some settles and a

table, contained a large black cabinet of the kind which was at that

time imported from Venice.

The druggist approached it eagerly; and looking at the lock, and then

at the keys in his hand, after some difficulty chose one, and applied

it to the keyhole. What was his surprise, to find that the cabinet was

already open, and that the whole shelves which it contained were

covered with books and papers, in a state of terrible confusion.

"Curses on the old sloven!" he cried; "this will take an age to go

through."

"Better take all the papers," said the Prevot, "and leave the trash of

books; but at all events make haste!"

"I cannot conceal them all," replied the druggist. "Here! help me to

search. They are tied up in a bundle together, with my name on the

back."

The Prevot approached, and aided Ganay busily in his search; and at

length the druggist caught a sight of the papers, lying far back in

the cabinet: "Here they are! Here they are!" he cried; but at that

moment--as he was reaching his hand to seize them--a powerful grasp

was laid upon his shoulder, and turning round with a sudden start, he

beheld the countenance of Albert Maurice.

Without giving him time to deliberate, the young citizen drew him

forcibly back from the cabinet with his right hand, while he himself

laid his left upon the very bundle of papers that Ganay had been about

to take. The druggist was struck dumb with surprise, disappointment,

and consternation; but Maillotin du Bac, who did not easily lose his

presence of mind, exclaimed at once, "What, you here, Sir President! I

thought you were miles hence by this time."

"Doubtless you did," replied Albert Maurice; "doubtless you did! What

do you here?"

"We seek to discover if there be any testamentary paper," replied the

Prevot, who perceived that the doorway, which opened into the saloon,

was full of people, amongst whom he recognised none of his own band.

"And what right have you, sir, to seek for such papers?" demanded the

President. "Is it a part of your office? Is it a part of your duty?

You seem to consider your functions wonderfully enlarged of late.

Advance, Maitre Pierre," he continued, turning to one of the eschevins

of the city, who had accompanied him thither. "You will do your duty

in sealing up the effects of the Lord of Neufchatel. As for these

papers which I have in my hand, I hold them to be necessary to the

state, having seen them before, by the consent of the Lord of

Neufchatel, while awaiting in this chamber of his house, an

examination before the council of the princess on a charge brought

against me by yon Prevot. It is my intention, therefore, to keep them

in my possession. But I beseech you, in the first instance, to envelop

them carefully, sealing them with your own seal, after which I will be

answerable for them to whatever person may prove to be the legal heir

of the nobleman deceased."

Ganay's face, always pale, became cadaverous, as he heard these words;

and both Albert Maurice and the Prevot believed that the only feeling

of his heart, at that moment, was terror. The words he muttered to

himself, however, were--"Fool! he has destroyed himself!" and they

might have served to show, had they been overheard, that the

predominant passion of his soul, revenge, was still uppermost, and

even overbore both consternation and surprise.

The eschevin, according to the desire of the President, sealed up the

papers in an envelope, and returned them to him; and Albert Maurice,

whose stern eye had turned severely from the countenance of the one

culprit to the other, with an expression which made them at first

believe that he meditated to exert his authority for their immediate

punishment, now once more addressed the magistrate, saying, "I must

myself leave you, sir, to pursue this business alone, for it will

require hard riding to overtake the troops; but I have every

confidence that you will examine this suspicious affair most strictly

and carefully. You know how far, according to the laws, such conduct

as we have seen to-day is just or unjust, and you will take measures,

without fear or favour, to see that justice be not evaded. But you

will be pleased especially to cause the body of the deceased nobleman,

of which we had but a casual glance, to be carefully examined by

competent persons, in order to ascertain the cause of death. My speedy

return will prevent the necessity of your employing any means but

those of precaution, till we meet again. In the meantime, farewell."

Thus saying, Albert Maurice, without taking any further notice either

of Ganay or the Prevot, quitted the chamber; and, leaving a sufficient

number of persons behind to enforce the authority of the eschevin, he

proceeded to the court-yard, and, mounting his horse, galloped off.

Things that appear very extraordinary in themselves, are often brought

about by the simplest means; and such had been the case in regard to

the interruption which Ganay and the Prevot had met with in the

execution of their design. Albert Maurice had been prevented, by some

casual business, from setting out himself at the hour he at first

proposed, but in order that the troops might not be delayed, he

suffered them to begin their march from Ghent, under their inferior

officers, well knowing that, with the number of swift horses he had at

his command, he could overtake them before they had advanced many

miles. His way lay past the hotel of the Lord of Neufchatel; and as he

was riding hastily on with a few attendants, he saw a boy drop from

one of the casements, and run across the street in breathless speed.

From some vague suspicion, Albert Maurice stopped him, with inquiries

into the cause of his haste; and the boy at once replied, "The old

lord is dead, and the Prevot and the druggist have shut all the

varlets up in the hall, while they seal up the papers. So they sent me

to tell the squires and men-at-arms in the other lodging."

Such tidings, joined to the previous knowledge that he possessed, was

quite sufficient for Albert Maurice; and, sending instantly for one of

the eschevins who lived close by, he proceeded at once to the hotel,

and, with his own followers, the retainers he found on the premises,

and those who rapidly came over from the other side of the street, he

obliged the Prevot's guard to quit the place. He then at once turned

his steps to the chamber of the dead man, and after a hasty

examination of the corpse, which excited still stronger suspicions

than before, he led the way silently to the room in which he knew that

the papers referring to Ganay were usually kept.

All that ensued we have already seen, and, without pursuing any

further the events which took place in Ghent, we shall beg leave to

follow the young citizen on his journey.

Mary of Burgundy; or, The Revolt of Ghent · 第 33 / 38 章