Albert Maurice sat alone, after an evening of such fearful excitement,
as few have ever passed upon this earth--after having seen his own
life, and power, and hopes, in momentary danger--after having
controlled and concealed his own passions, and bridled, and governed,
and guided those of others--after having overthrown his enemies, slain
his betrayer, secured his authority, and taken all but one small easy
step to the very summit of his ambition. Oh, what a host of mingled
sensations crowded rapidly on his heart! and how dizzily his brain
whirled for the first few brief moments, while remembrance rapidly
brought before him all the multiplied events of the last two hours;
and out of the smoke of memory rose the giant consciousness that he
was successful--triumphantly successful!
For an instant his lip curled with a proud and satisfied smile; and
everything was forgotten, but that bright bubble--success. But, as he
sat, a sort of lassitude came over him; his eye fell casually on the
spot where the druggist Ganay had lain, convulsed in the agonies of
death; and, by a caprice of the imagination, the same face which had
then appeared streaked with ghastly blood, and contorted with the
pangs of dissolution, was presented to his memory, as he had seen it
in former days, speaking the words of hope to his own ear, and
cheering him on the path of enterprise and ambition.
Touched by the magic wand of association, the splendid objects which
he had just been contemplating began to change their form and lose
their brightness. A dull weight of thought seemed to fall upon him,
and his utmost efforts would not throw it off. It seemed as if some
fiend, in bitter mockery, resolved to conjure up the faces of the
dead, and to torture his heart with painful recollections, even in the
hour of triumph. To the form of the druggist, next succeeded, before
the eye of fancy, that of the Duke of Gueldres, dyeing the green sward
with his blood; and then, the shifting picture of the mind presented
the same prince as when first, with buoyant joy, he came to thank him
for his liberation. Next appeared Imbercourt and Hugonet, bending to
the stroke of the executioner: and then, he beheld them as they had
appeared at the council, when he had been examined on the accusation
of the Prevot; while the calm, grave, noble countenance of Imbercourt
was seen pleading eagerly in exculpation of him, who had since worked
out the death of his defender.
"So many, in so short a time!" thought Albert Maurice. "Yet have they
died, each for his own misdeeds; and I have sacrificed them--ay, and
with pain--for the good of my country alone!"
He almost started at the vehemence with which conscience gave the lie
to so base a delusion. "For the good of my country alone!" he thought
again. "Nay--nay--nay--for my own ambition. What--what act have I done
yet, for the good of my country _alone?_ None, alas! none! and even
now, perhaps--even now, when ambition has swallowed up all--when I
have reached the very pinnacle of success--perhaps the only one I have
suffered to escape--perhaps yon Duke of Cleves is even now plotting to
deprive me of the only reward that can wipe away every evil memory,
repay every effort, tranquillize every pain, and render success a
blessing indeed. But he shall plot in vain; and if he dare to plot, by
the Lord that lives, he shall die!"
"Ho! without there!" he continued, aloud. "Bring me a hat and cloak!
Oh, good Matthew Gournay--I had forgot," he added, as he saw who it
was that answered his summons--"this very night your noble lord shall
be set free. But I must see him myself; I have tidings for him which
will glad his heart. You, too, shall not be forgotten; and though I
know, gold can never pay such services as yours, yet there are other
means within my power. This very night we will set free your lord. In
all the turbulence of the past evening, I had forgot what I should
have remembered. No, no, boy"--he added, to the page who brought him a
high-plumed bonnet and richly decorated cloak--"these vestments I have
on are all too fine already. I must conceal my rank--my station in the
city, I should say. Get me some servant's cloak and hat. Be quick!
'Tis nearly ten."
The President mused thoughtfully till the boy returned; and honest
Matthew Gournay, seeing that deep and agitating thoughts were
engrossing all his attention, stood quietly gazing on the spot where
he had slain the unhappy Ganay, and wondering that any man should take
the trouble of poisoning another, when he might rid himself of his
enemy so easily by the dagger or the sword.
At length the hat and cloak were brought; and Albert Maurice drew the
one round his person, and the other over his brow. "Now, Matthew
Gournay," he said, "take five-and-twenty men, and bid them follow me
by separate ways to the palace. There wait till I come. I will be in
the square almost as soon as you; and after I have spent some ten
minutes in transacting business which admits of no delay, we will go
on and liberate your good lord."
The ring which Matthew Gournay had received from his young lord, acted
with the magic effect of some talisman in an Eastern tale; and
whatever commands he received from Albert Maurice, he obeyed at once,
with unquestioning alacrity. The five-and-twenty men were soon
summoned--for the whole force of the free companions had been poured
into the town of Ghent, during the evening, by means of the gate
which, as we have seen, the followers of the President had secured on
his first entering the city. A few brief words directed them by
different ways to the palace; and--passing through the various crowds
which had been gathered together for the entertainment in the square,
and which were now discussing, in eager tones, the events that had
taken place in the town-house--the men selected to accompany, or
rather to follow, the young citizen, soon made their way to the gates
of the palace. That part of the town was nearly deserted, and the
little square before the Cours du Prince was void and solitary, except
where, nearly in the midst, a tall, dark figure, with its arms crossed
upon its chest, stood gazing up at the building. All was quiet, and
calm, and dark, along the facade of the palace, except where, here and
there, from some of the long narrow windows, a stream of tremulous
light broke upon the night.
For several minutes the figure continued to gaze, apparently fixing
its glance earnestly upon one part of the building. But at length
perceiving the number of soldiers collecting before the gate, Albert
Maurice--for he it was, who had outwalked his followers--advanced, and
after speaking a few words to Matthew Gournay, demanded admission from
the warder of the fortified gate. He gave his name and station, and
urged business of importance as an excuse for the lateness of his
visit. The warder replied in a tone of humble deference, which
circumstances had compelled the proud soldiers of Burgundy to learn in
speaking to the once contemned burghers of Ghent, telling him that he
would willingly admit him, but that, as his orders had been very
strict for the last week, he must detain him at the gate while he
caused the princess to be informed of the fact.
Albert Maurice made no objection, and remained, musing with a downcast
countenance, across which the shadows of many emotions were passing,
that he would not willingly have shown to the eye of open day. As calm
and tranquil as a summer's morning, he had sat his horse in the midst
of battle and conflict. Calmly, too, he had remained beside the man
who was mixing a cup of poison for his lip, and preparing the dagger
if the cup should fail. But now every nerve thrilled, and his heart
beat like a coward's, though he was but to meet a fair and gentle
girl, whose fate might almost be said to rest in his own hands. He had
hoped, and he had dreamt, through many a long day; and various
circumstances had combined to give those hopes and dreams a tangible
foundation and a definite form. But now that the moment approached
when they were to be realized or destroyed for ever, they faded all
away into fears and anxieties.
The warder returned and bowed low, while the gates were thrown open.
The soldiers within the court did military honours to the President of
Ghent; and, assuming a firmer step and a prouder air, Albert Maurice
passed on within the precincts of the palace, followed by the train
who had met him according to his appointment. At the entrance-hall his
followers paused; and he himself, ushered forward by one of the
domestic attendants of the princess, ascended the steps towards a
smaller chamber, adjoining the great hall of audience.
In the ante-room he cast off his hat and cloak, and remained in the
rich dress in which he had descended to the banquet in the town-house;
and as he passed on towards the door which the servant threw open, his
eye fell upon a Venetian mirror, and perhaps he gained another ray of
hope, from feeling that, in appearance as well as mind, he was not
unfitted to move through those lordly halls, in the high station for
which his ambition strove.
The chamber that he entered was but dimly lighted; and it was evident
that the preparations for receiving him there had only been made upon
the sudden announcement of his arrival. His eye, however, instantly
rested upon Mary of Burgundy, as she sat surrounded by a number of her
women; and the sweet smile with which she welcomed him so thrilled
through his heart, that he felt the resolution which had brought him
thither shaken, lest, by seeking for deeper happiness, he should lose
even the joy of that sweet smile itself.
"Welcome, my lord," she said, "most welcome back again to Ghent. For
though we had great joy from your victories and successes, the first
that have ever yet blessed our cause, yet we have much needed your
presence in the city."
"I hope, lady," replied the young citizen, with a tone of deep
interest in all that concerned her immediate happiness, "I hope that
you have suffered no personal annoyance; for, believe me, before I
went, I took every means to guard you from the importunity of the Duke
of Gueldres, or the intrusion of any one else."
"From the Duke of Gueldres," replied Mary, "who, I hear, unhappy man,
has fallen in some of the late conflicts, I have, indeed, suffered
nothing; nor have I truly to complain of any one else. Though my good
cousin of Cleves does, perhaps, press me somewhat unkindly to a union,
which is little less fearful in my eyes than the other. Doubtless, he
deems it for my good, and strong are the reasons he urges; but having
taken on myself to decide, and having told him that decision, I would
fain be spared all further discussion."
The cheek of Albert Maurice reddened with anger; and he answered
hastily, "Fear not, dear lady; his importunities shall not press upon
your Grace much longer. The city of Ghent and the states of Flanders
have this night armed me, thank God! with sufficient power to
sweep--to--to----"
Albert Maurice paused and hesitated; for the bold and ambitious words
that had been just springing to his lips, he felt must not be rashly
uttered in the ear of one whose love was to be gained and fixed, and
whose hand, although it was the crowning object of all his ambition,
though it was the motive for every energy and endeavour of his bosom,
would at once become vain and valueless, if unaccompanied by her
heart. He paused, and then continued, "have armed me with sufficient
power, at once to guide the state, I trust, to permanent security and
peace; and to sweep away from your domestic life every pain, anxiety,
and fear."
The last words were spoken low and slowly; and as he pronounced them,
he dropped his eyes to the ground; while the warm conscious blood rose
up into his cheeks, and spoke far more than his lips. The words he
uttered, it is true, had no very definite meaning, and might be taken
up in a very general sense; but the tone, the manner, the hesitation,
the flushing of the cheek, the timid glance of the eye, gave emphasis
and purpose to the whole. For the first time, a suspicion of what was
passing in his bosom flashed across the mind of Mary of Burgundy, and
inspired her, for the moment, with a feeling of terror which
approached very nearly to despair. She turned deadly pale, and
trembled violently, as, with rapid thought, she ran over the
circumstances of her situation, and found how helpless she was, if
that suspicion were well founded. It was but for an instant, however,
that she gave way to apprehension. From the first, she had appreciated
the general character of Albert Maurice, especially its finer points,
by a sort of instinctive comparison with her own. She knew that he was
generous, high-spirited, noble-minded; and, though she might now find
that her estimate of his ambition had been far below that which it
should have been, yet she trusted to the better parts of his
disposition to deliver her from the consequences of the worse. She
knew that she was in his power. She felt that his will was law, in all
the country that surrounded her; and that, if he chose, he could blast
her hopes and happiness for ever. But, at the same time, she felt
there was some resource, though the only one, in the native generosity
of his heart; and she determined to appeal to it boldly as her sole
refuge from despair. It is true that a union with Albert Maurice,
whose splendid qualities she could not but acknowledge, might, were
such feelings susceptible of any very marked shades of difference, and
had it been possible for her to dream for one moment of such a union,
might have been less repugnant to her, than the marriages which had
been proposed with the drivelling boy of France, with the coarse and
brutal son of the Duke of Cleves, or with the cruel and unnatural Duke
of Gueldres. But still, the simple fact existed, she loved another
with all the deep sincerity of a woman's first affection, and the very
thought of any other alliance was abhorrent to every feeling of her
heart.
Nothing could have balanced those feelings in her bosom, but her
strong sense of duty to the nation she was called upon to govern and
protect. She could, indeed, and would, have sacrificed everything for
her country and her people; but that people themselves had rejected
the only alliance that could have benefited them; and, in the present
instance, no such object could have been gained by her marriage with
the President of Ghent, as that which the French alliance might have
accomplished, even could she have entertained the thought of bestowing
the hand of the heiress of Burgundy on an adventurous and aspiring
citizen, a thought from which all Mary's feelings revolted, not the
less strongly for the natural gentleness of her character. Had time
for reflection been added, the discovery or the suspicion of his love
might have afforded a key to all the conduct of the young citizen,
and, by showing to what deeds his passion had already betrayed him,
might have increased a thousand-fold the terror of the unhappy
princess; but, luckily, the consideration of her own situation, and of
the means of averting the consequences she dreaded, engrossed her
wholly, and thus guarded her from worse apprehensions.
The first effect of his speech, and of the sudden conviction which his
manner, more than his words, produced, was, as we said, to turn her
deadly pale; and while a thousand new anxieties and painful
considerations crossed her mind, she remained gazing on him so long,
in silence, that she felt he must see that he was understood. The
silence of her own embarrassment then becoming painful to her, as well
as to him, the blood rushed up into her face, and yet she could not
reply; so that both remained completely mute for several moments,
after words had been spoken, which, to the by-standers, seemed
perfectly simple.
At length she answered--"Oh! Sir President, if such power has been
granted to you by the states, use it nobly, and Heaven will bless
you."
"As far, lady, as my poor judgment can extend, I will use it nobly,"
replied Albert Maurice, over whose heart an icy chill had come, he
knew not well why. "But," he added, "as I would fain use it for your
happiness--believing it to be inseparable from that of the people--let
me crave a few words with you in private, that I may ascertain more
fully how that happiness may be best consulted."
He spoke slowly and calmly; but, from the quivering of his lip, it was
evident that each word cost him a painful struggle to pronounce. On
the other hand, Mary was herself embarrassed by his request, which was
not a little contrary to the etiquette of her situation; and yet he
who requested, she knew, might command; and she felt that, perhaps, it
might be better for both that they should be alone.
After a moment's pause, then, she gave the necessary order for her
attendants to withdraw into the ante-chamber, and then resumed her
seat. Albert Maurice stood beside her, with his eyes still bent upon
the ground; and for a moment, after the suite had quitted the chamber,
he remained silent, striving to master all the emotions which were
agitating his heart. It was a painful struggle, but at length he
succeeded; and then raising his head with some degree of proud
consciousness in his aspect, he looked calmly on the princess.
"Madam," he said, in a firmer voice than he had hitherto commanded,
"your general welfare, and that of your people, is undoubtedly one
great, and ought to be one paramount, object with me in all I strive
for; but, at the same time, believe me--oh, believe me! that your
individual happiness is no less a deep and overpowering consideration
in my mind. Lady, I know, and feel painfully, that the great
difference of rank and station between us, may prevent you from
conceiving fully how dear your interests are to me. Nay, turn not
pale, madam!" he added, with watchful and somewhat irritable pride,
softened by deep and sincere affection--"Nay, turn not pale! No word
shall you hear from my lips, that may offend your ear or wound
your heart. Lady, the ambitious, misproud citizen may have as
elevated, perhaps more devoted, ideas of true affection, than the
noble, whose pride and arrogance are his right of birth; and may be
able to crush his own heart, to sacrifice more than life--hope,
blessed hope itself, to serve the being that he loves. And do you
weep?" he continued, seeing the tears roll rapidly over the fair cheek
of Mary of Burgundy. "And do you weep? Then I have said too much. Yet,
hear me a little. I see you agitated, far more agitated than anything
which has passed hitherto should have occasioned, unless the words we
have spoken, whose import seems but small, may have touched some fine
strung cord within your heart, and made sadder music than I dreamed
of. However, in this land of Flanders I have now no small power, which
may last God knows how long. But fear not that the power I do possess
will ever be used to thwart one wish of your heart. Whatever it may
cost me, it shall be employed to serve you with deep and true
attachment. There is," he added, his emotion almost mastering his
calmness; "there is one question I would ask, which is hard to put,
and may be painful to answer. Yet, let me speak it quickly and
briefly, lest I should fail."
He paused for a moment, and looked down; while his hand became
clenched fearfully tight, as if in the struggle to suppress some deep
feelings that would fain have burst forth, but, after a single moment,
all was again vanquished, and he proceeded:--"Some months have now
passed since your father's eyes were closed in death; your dominions
are invaded, your people are distracted by different parties, and your
nobles are leaguing together to snatch one from another the blessing
of your hand. It is time, lady, that you should make a choice; and
although I know no one, on all the earth, that is worthy of the
happiness within your gift, yet, if there be any one to whom you can
give your heart, I will--I will--Yes!" he added, more firmly, "I will
do all that mortal man can do, to render you happy in your love!" He
paused; and although an indefinable something in the conduct and
demeanour of Mary of Burgundy through that night, had already
shown him that one half of his dreams were dreams indeed; yet
hope--persevering hope--lingered still, and whispered, "If she love
none else, she may still be mine."
Mary of Burgundy's conduct was already determined; but nevertheless
she trembled in every limb; and long, long was it, ere she could
reply. At length she answered--"You have, indeed, put to me a
question, which makes me feel most painfully how different is the
station of princes from the happy and modest retirement of private
life. Nay, do not think I blame you, sir; I blame but my hard fate.
You are most kind; and, amidst a base and interested crowd, who would
fain make me the slave of their wild ambitions, I shall ever remember
you with gratitude, as the only one--who--with more power than all the
rest to command my fate, was willing to cast self away, and--and to
seek my happiness alone. Feeling thus; believing from my heart that in
your generous nature I may perfectly rely, I answer your question as
distinctly as it is put. There is, I believe, but one man to whom I
can conscientiously give my hand. 'Tis now near two years ago, that,
by my father's command, I plighted my faith in writing, and pledged
thereto a ring, to one, whom I had been taught, during some months of
happy intimacy, to look upon as my future lord--Maximilian, Archduke
of Austria--"
"And you love him! and you love him!" cried Albert Maurice, starting
forward, and, forgetful of all restraint, grasping her firmly by the
wrist. The princess started up alarmed, and a cry of terror at his
sudden vehemence, had nearly passed her lips. But she stifled it ere
it was uttered; and the next moment Albert Maurice had recovered
himself, and was kneeling at her feet.
"Pardon me! pardon me, princess of Burgundy!" he said. "Give me, oh,
give me your forgiveness! The dream is gone, the vision is over, and
Albert Maurice, the humblest of your subjects, is ready to pour out
his blood, to atone for all that he has done amiss. Madam," he added,
rising, "I have been living in a dream; and, I fear me, when I come to
look upon it steadily, I shall find it a sad one. But no more of that:
at present I am, if that be not a dream also, President of the states
general of Flanders, and armed with greater power than any other man
in the land. What can I do to sweep all obstacles from before your
wishes? Tell me quickly how I can serve you. Let me at least work out
your happiness, before the memory of the past turn my brain."
"Oh, speak not so wildly, sir!" cried Mary. "You have great powers and
noble energies, which will guide you to the height of fame; and yet, I
trust, to the height of happiness. Indeed, sir, I cannot speak
farther, while you seem so moved."
"Madam, I am perfectly calm," replied Albert Maurice. "Those energies
and those powers your Grace is pleased to speak of, may last a longer
or a shorter time, according to God's will; and I am most anxious to
wipe out any offence I have committed, by employing them vigorously in
your service. Let me beseech you to speak. Shall I send off immediate
messengers to the Archduke?"
"No, no! Oh, no!" cried Mary; "I fear too much has been done already
in that course, by my kind step-dame, the Duchess Margaret, and my
good cousin of Ravestein; for I hear--for I hear--that the Archduke is
already on his way to Brussels."
"Ha!" cried Albert Maurice; "ha!" but he said no more, and the
princess proceeded.
"Yet, sir," she said, "I have many fears; for I know that the Duke of
Cleves has not only sent forth messengers to forbid his approach, but
also I learn from my dear foster-sister, Alice of Imbercourt, who is
now with the good Lord of Hannut, that a hundred men, bearing the
colours of the house of Cleves, have passed through Brussels; and,
there is reason to believe, they waylay the road from the Rhine."
"Indeed! This must be seen to!" said the young citizen, in the same
abstracted manner. "But your Grace was about to add----"
"Merely this, sir," replied Mary, with that calm, impressive
gentleness that is more touching than any vehemence; "that the man to
whom I believe myself plighted by every tie but the final sanction
of the church, is, I am told, on his road hither, slenderly
accompanied--for the avarice of the emperor is well known; and his son
now journeys with hardly ten attendants. He has strong enemies on the
way and I leave you to judge, sir, of the feelings that I experience."
The lip of Albert Maurice quivered; but he still retained command over
himself, and replied in a low but distinct voice, though, in every
tone, the vehement struggle he maintained to master the agony of his
heart was still apparent: "To calm those feelings, madam, shall be my
first effort; and, as I have received timely information, entertain
not the slightest apprehension of the result. I will serve you, madam,
more devotedly than I would serve myself; and the last energies that,
possibly, I may ever be able to command, shall be directed to secure
your happiness. I have now detained you long. Night wears, and time is
precious. I humbly take my leave. May Heaven bless you, madam! May
Heaven bless you! and send you happier days to shine upon your reign,
than those with which it has begun."
He bowed low, and took two or three steps towards the door, while Mary
gazed upon him with eyes in which compassion for all she saw that he
suffered, and woman's invariable sympathy with love, called up an
unwilling tear. "Stay, sir, one moment," she said at length; "it may
be the last time that ever I shall have the power to thank you, as
Duchess of Burgundy, before I resign my sovereignty with my hand to
another. Believe me, then, that as far as the gratitude of a princess
towards a subject can extend, I am grateful to you for all that you
have done in my behalf. Believe me, too, that I admire and esteem the
great qualities of your mind, and that I will, as far as in me lies,
teach my husband"--and she laid a stress upon the word--"to appreciate
your talents and your virtues, and to honour and employ them for our
common benefit. Take this jewel, I beseech you," she added, "and wear
it ever as a token of my gratitude."
"Oh! madam!" exclaimed Albert Maurice, as he advanced to receive the
diamond she proffered. He took it slowly and reverentially; but as her
hand resigned it, his feelings overpowered him, and pressing the jewel
suddenly to his heart, he exclaimed, "I will carry it to my grave!"
Then turning, without farther adieu, he threw open the door and
quitted the apartment.