The next day at noon, as her Majesty had advised the Seigneur, De la
Foret was ushered into the presence. The Queen’s eye quickened as she
saw him, and she remarked with secret pleasure the figure and bearing
of this young captain of the Huguenots. She loved physical grace and
prowess with a full heart. The day had almost passed when she would
measure all men against Leicester in his favour; and he, knowing this
clearly now, saw with haughty anxiety the gradual passing of his power,
and clutched futilely at the vanishing substance. Thus it was that
he now spent his strength in getting his way with the Queen in little
things. She had been so long used to take his counsel--in some part wise
and skilful--that when she at length did without it, or followed her own
mind, it became a fever with him to let no chance pass for serving his
own will by persuading her out of hers. This was why he had spent an
hour the day before in sadly yet vaguely reproaching her for the slight
she put upon him in the presence-chamber by her frown; and another
in urging her to come to terms with Catherine de Medici in this small
affair--since the Frenchwoman had set her revengeful heart upon it--that
larger matters might be settled to the gain of England. It was not so
much that he had reason to destroy De la Foret, as that he saw that the
Queen was disposed to deal friendly by him and protect him. He did
not see the danger of rousing in the Queen the same unreasoning
tenaciousness of will upon just such lesser things as might well be left
to her advisers. In spite of which he almost succeeded, this very day,
in regaining, for a time at least, the ground he had lost with her. He
had never been so adroit, so brilliant, so witty, so insinuating; and
he left her with the feeling that if he had his way concerning De
la Foret--a mere stubborn whim, with no fair reason behind it--his
influence would be again securely set. The sense of crisis was on him.
On Michel de la Foret entering the presence the Queen’s attention had
become riveted. She felt in him a spirit of mastery, yet of unselfish
purpose. Here was one, she thought, who might well be in her household,
or leading a regiment of her troops. The clear fresh face, curling hair,
direct look, quiet energy, and air of nobility--this sort of man could
only be begotten of a great cause; he were not possible in idle or
prosperous times.
Elizabeth looked him up and down, then affected surprise. “Monsieur de
la Foret,” she said, “I do not recognise you in this attire”--glancing
towards his dress.
De la Foret bowed, and Elizabeth continued, looking at a paper in her
hand: “You landed on our shores of Jersey in the robes of a priest of
France. The passport for a priest of France was found upon your
person when our officers in Jersey made search of you. Which is
yourself--Michel de la Foret, soldier, or a priest of France?”
De la Foret replied gravely that he was a soldier, and that the priestly
dress had been but a disguise.
“In which papist attire, methinks, Michel de la Foret, soldier and
Huguenot, must have been ill at ease--the eagle with the vulture’s wing.
What say you, Monsieur?”
“That vulture’s wing hath carried me to a safe dove-cote, your gracious
Majesty,” he answered, with a low obeisance.
“I’m none so sure of that, Monsieur,” was Elizabeth’s answer, and she
glanced quizzically at Leicester, who made a gesture of annoyance.
“Our cousin France makes you to us a dark intriguer and conspirator, a
dangerous weed in our good garden of England, a ‘troublous, treacherous
violence’--such are you called, Monsieur.”
“I am in your high Majesty’s power,” he answered, “to do with me as it
seemeth best. If your Majesty wills it that I be returned to France,
I pray you set me upon its coast as I came from it, a fugitive. Thence
will I try to find my way to the army and the poor stricken people of
whom I was. I pray for that only, and not to be given to the red hand of
the Medici.”
“Red hand--by my faith, but you are bold, Monsieur!”
Leicester tapped his foot upon the floor impatiently, then caught the
Queen’s eye, and gave her a meaning look.
De la Foret saw the look and knew his enemy, but he did not quail. “Bold
only by your high Majesty’s faith, indeed,” he answered the Queen, with
harmless guile.
Elizabeth smiled. She loved such flattering speech from a strong man.
It touched a chord in her deeper than that under Leicester’s finger.
Leicester’s impatience only made her more self-willed on the instant.
“You speak with the trumpet note, Monsieur,” she said to De la Foret.
“We will prove you. You shall have a company in my Lord Leicester’s army
here, and we will send you upon some service worthy of your fame.”
“I crave your Majesty’s pardon, but I cannot do it,” was De la Foret’s
instant reply. “I have sworn that I will lift my sword in one cause
only, and to that I must stand. And more--the widow of my dead chief,
Gabriel de Montgomery, is set down in this land unsheltered and alone.
I have sworn to one who loves her, and for my dead chief’s sake, that
I will serve her and be near her until better days be come and she may
return in quietness to France. In exile we few stricken folk must stand
together, your august Majesty.”
Elizabeth’s eye flashed up. She was impatient of refusal of her favour.
She was also a woman, and that De la Foret should flaunt his devotion
to another woman was little to her liking. The woman in her, which had
never been blessed with a noble love, was roused. The sourness of a
childless, uncompanionable life was stronger for the moment than her
strong mind and sense.
“Monsieur has sworn this, and Monsieur has sworn that,” she said
petulantly--“and to one who loveth a lady, and for a cause--tut, tut,
tut!--”
Suddenly a kind of intriguing laugh leaped into her eye, and she turned
to Leicester and whispered in his ear. Leicester frowned, then smiled,
and glanced up and down De la Foret’s figure impertinently.
“See, Monsieur de la Foret,” she added; “since you will not fight, you
shall preach. A priest you came into my kingdom, and a priest you shall
remain; but you shall preach good English doctrine and no Popish folly.”
De la Foret started, then composed himself, and before he had time
to reply, Elizabeth continued: “Partly for your own sake am I thus
gracious; for as a preacher of the Word I have not need to give you
up, according to agreement with our brother of France. As a rebel and
conspirator I were bound to do so, unless you were an officer of my
army. The Seigneur of Rozel has spoken for you, and the Comtesse de
Montgomery has written a pleading letter. Also I have from another
source a tearful prayer--the ink is scarce dry upon it--which has been
of service to you. But I myself have chosen this way of escape for
you. Prove yourself worthy, and all may be well--but prove yourself
you shall. You have prepared your own brine, Monsieur; in it you shall
pickle.”
She smiled a sour smile, for she was piqued, and added: “Do you think I
will have you here squiring of distressed dames, save as a priest? You
shall hence to Madame of Montgomery as her faithful chaplain, once I
have heard you preach and know your doctrine.”
Leicester almost laughed outright in the young man’s face now, for he
had no thought that De la Foret would accept, and refusal meant the
exile’s doom.
It seemed fantastic that this noble gentleman, this very type of the
perfect soldier, with the brown face of a picaroon and an athletic
valour of body, should become a preacher even in necessity.
Elizabeth, seeing De la Foret’s dumb amazement and anxiety, spoke
up sharply: “Do this, or get you hence to the Medici, and Madame of
Montgomery shall mourn her protector, and Mademoiselle your mistress of
the vermilion cheek, shall have one lover the less; which, methinks, our
Seigneur of Rozel would thank me for.”
De la Foret started, his lips pressed firmly together in effort of
restraint. There seemed little the Queen did not know concerning him;
and reference to Angele roused him to sharp solicitude.
“Well, well?” asked Elizabeth impatiently, then made a motion to
Leicester, and he, going to the door, bade some one to enter.
There stepped inside the Seigneur of Rozel, who made a lumbering
obeisance, then got to his knees before the Queen.
“You have brought the lady safely--with her father?” she asked.
Lempriere, puzzled, looked inquiringly at the Queen, then replied: “Both
are safe without, your infinite Majesty.”
De la Foret’s face grew pale. He knew now for the first time that Angele
and her father were in England, and he looked Lempriere suspiciously in
the eyes; but the swaggering Seigneur met his look frankly, and bowed
with ponderous and genial gravity.
Now De la Foret spoke. “Your high Majesty,” said he, “if I may ask
Mademoiselle Aubert one question in your presence--”
“Your answer now; the lady in due season,” interposed the Queen.
“She was betrothed to a soldier, she may resent a priest,” said De la
Foret, with a touch of humour, for he saw the better way was to take the
matter with some outward ease.
Elizabeth smiled. “It is the custom of her sex to have a fondness for
both,” she answered, with an acid smile. “But your answer?”
De la Foret’s face became exceeding grave. Bowing his head, he said: “My
sword has spoken freely for the Cause; God forbid that my tongue should
not speak also. I will do your Majesty’s behest.”
The jesting word that was upon the royal lips came not forth, for De
la Foret’s face was that of a man who had determined a great thing,
and Elizabeth was one who had a heart for high deeds. “The man is brave
indeed,” she said under her breath, and, turning to the dumfounded
Seigneur, bade him bring in Mademoiselle Aubert.
A moment later Angele entered, came a few steps forward, made obeisance,
and stood still. She showed no trepidation, but looked before her
steadily. She knew not what was to be required of her, she was a
stranger in a strange land; but persecution and exile had gone far to
strengthen her spirit and greaten her composure.
Elizabeth gazed at the girl coldly and critically. To women she was not
over-amiable; but as she looked at the young Huguenot maid, of this
calm bearing, warm of colour, clear of eye, and purposeful of face, some
thing kindled in her. Most like it was that love for a cause, which was
more to be encouraged by her than any woman’s love for a man, which as
she grew older inspired her with aversion, as talk of marriage brought
cynical allusions to her lips.
“I have your letter and its protests and its pleadings. There were fine
words and adjurations--are you so religious, then?” she asked brusquely.
“I am a Huguenot, your noble Majesty,” answered the girl, as though that
answered all.
“How is it, then, you are betrothed to a roistering soldier?” asked the
Queen.
“Some must pray for Christ’s sake, and some must fight, your most
christian Majesty,” answered the girl. “Some must do both,” rejoined the
Queen, in a kinder voice, for the pure spirit of the girl worked upon
her. “I am told that Monsieur de la Foret fights fairly. If he can pray
as well, methinks he shall have safety in our kingdom, and ye shall all
have peace. On Trinity Sunday you shall preach in my chapel, Monsieur de
la Foret, and thereafter you shall know your fate.”
She rose. “My Lord,” she said to Leicester, on whose face gloom had
settled, “you will tell the Lord Chamberlain that Monsieur de la Foret’s
durance must be made comfortable in the west tower of my palace till
chapel-going of Trinity Day. I will send him for his comfort and
instruction some sermons of Latimer.”
She stepped down from the dais. “You will come with me, mistress,” she
said to Angele, and reached out her hand.
Angele fell on her knees and kissed it, tears falling down her cheek,
then rose and followed the Queen from the chamber. She greatly desired
to look backward towards De la Foret, but some good angel bade her not.
She realised that to offend the Queen at this moment might ruin all;
and Elizabeth herself was little like to offer chance for farewell and
love-tokens.
So it was that, with bowed head, Angele left the room with the Queen of
England, leaving Lempriere and De la Foret gazing at each other, the
one bewildered, the other lost in painful reverie, and Leicester smiling
maliciously at them both.