At a quarter to four o'clock, Edward Langdale shook young Abbot by the
shoulder and with some difficulty succeeded in waking him. "Quick,
Abbot! get up!" he said. "Go down and saddle your horse: but make no
noise. Do you understand me? No more than an owl. Go down and saddle
your horse: do you hear? but be quiet about it."
"What is in the wind?" said the other.
"Nothing to you: but do as you are bidden," answered Edward, and took
his way to Mr. Oakingham's room. Here he had more difficulty, for the
door was locked or bolted, and he had to make some noise before the good
gentleman would open it.
"Why, what is the matter?" asked Oakingham. "Is the house on fire? It is
quite dark."
"Here, sir, light your lamp," said Edward. "My lord has changed his
mind, and is going to set out directly. You will be left behind if you
do not make haste."
Oakingham swore a little; but Edward did not stay to listen, gave him
his lamp, and turned toward the rooms of the servants, which lay at the
end of the passage over the kitchen. The last chamber but one had been
assigned to the two blacksmiths, and, as Edward was approaching quietly
that where the lackey and the groom were housed, the shorter of the
Savoyards, roused by the noise at Mr. Oakingham's door, put his head
out.
Edward walked on quietly, and, when he was abreast of the man, said,
with an easy air, "You had better get your clothes on. You will be
wanted presently."
"Which horse?" asked the man, at once.
"All but one," said Edward; and, knocking hard at the door of the
servants' room, he ordered them in a loud tone to rise and come to the
stable. The blacksmith was still at the door; but Edward caught him by
the neck and pushed him back into the room, saying, "Pardie! did I not
tell you to get dressed?"
The man staggered back, and before he recovered himself the young
gentleman had caught the key from the inside and locked the door. He did
not, however, call Lord Montagu till he had gone out into the yard and
ascertained that the windows of the rooms above were too high to admit
of any one dropping to the ground.
A good deal of bustle succeeded: the servants of the house were roused,
valises and bags were packed in haste, and horses were saddled; but
before five o'clock all was ready for departure, and Edward approached
Lord Montagu as he stood before the inn, saying, "Shall I let out that
blacksmith? He is safely locked in his room, and hammering at the door
as if he would knock it down. Well he left his tools in the stable, or
he would have been out by this time."
"Let him out, to-be-sure," said Montagu: "he may follow now if he will.
He will keep us too late."
"His horse is saddled for him, my lord," replied Edward: "by your leave
he shall come with us, or I will come with him." And, running up-stairs,
he opened the door of the man's room.
The worthy was at first inclined to make some noisy remonstrance, but
Edward stopped him in an instant. "No noise!" he said, seeing that he
was dressed. "Go down-stairs. Get on your horse and put him between me
and the groom. If you take a step too quick or a step too slow, you will
have a ball through your head in one minute. We know where your comrade
is gone, and all about you: so pray Heaven we meet with no misadventure
on the road, for, if we do, this is the last morning you will ever see."
The man looked scared out of his senses, and descended the stairs with a
face as pale as ashes.
The thundering command of Lord Montagu, "Mount, quick! Stand by him,
Ned!" did not serve to allay his apprehensions; and perhaps no man of
the whole party more sincerely prayed that they might pass uninterrupted
than he did.
The score was paid, and the party rode off, with Montagu and Mr.
Oakingham at the head, and Edward Langdale, the groom, and the
blacksmith between them, in the rear. It was still quite dark; but the
eye of the pretended Savoyard roamed round and round from the very
commencement of the journey. At the end of a few minutes he began to
talk, and apparently desired to exculpate himself from any complicity in
his fellow-countryman's proceedings; but Edward stopped him sternly,
saying, "Silence! Your tongue makes as much noise as the crack of a
pistol, and I will silence it if you say one word more." He put his hand
to his holster as he spoke, and the man ceased instantly.
"I have pistols too, sir," said the sturdy groom.
"He will need no more than I give him," said Edward. "I do not miss,
Hobbs."
"No, I know you don't, sir," said the groom: "at least I never saw you."
"Let us keep quiet," said Edward; "but be prepared. If we should be
stopped, and this fellow's comrade is there, you take care of him. I
will settle with this one."
The first part of the way led up hill, through a pretty close wood
skirting the road on either hand; but at the top of the ascent the
little party issued forth upon some open, undulating ground, which the
insecurity of border-life had kept a good deal out of cultivation. The
darkness was now growing pale at the approach of day, and the gray
outline of a chateau or two, with a village church some two miles off,
and what seemed a considerable town a good deal farther, might be seen
to the right and left. All was still and silent till the light clouds
overhead began to turn rosy, and then a lark started up close beside the
road and went quivering and trilling into the sky.
"My heaven! they are going very slow," murmured the blacksmith, in a low
voice and with a groan. "Why does not the English lord go faster, young
gentleman? Does he not know this part of the country is full of
brigands?"
"He knows there are brigands about," answered Edward; "but we know how
to deal with them."
Edward, however, did think that his lord might have ridden faster; and,
as they began to descend into another hollow with a thick wood at the
bottom, he scanned every thing around and below with a keen, quick eye,
but could discover no moving thing.
When they issued out of the wood at the other side of the dell, the sun
was apparently just rising above the horizon, and the whole sky was full
of purple and gold; and, when they topped the hill above, a wide but not
very interesting landscape was before them. Some high blue hills were
seen at a distance on the right; but nearer, on both sides, were several
chateaux and villages, with scattered woods and ponds and rivers, all
glowing like rubies in the red light. The human race, too, began to
bestir itself to daily toil, and several men, evidently peasants, were
seen leading horses or driving oxen to the field. But the view was soon
cut off from their sight by broken banks tumbled about in strange
confusion, interspersed with patches of scrubby firs, and here and there
a low hovel looking picturesque in its very wretchedness.
The agitation of the blacksmith seemed every moment increasing, and once
he even attempted to drop behind; but the stern words from Edward, "Keep
up!" accompanied by a motion of the hand toward his pistols, soon
brought the man to a line with his companions. At length, after they had
ridden on for about half a mile or more, he burst forth, saying, "I want
to speak to the lord: he is going too slow. Let me speak to him."
"Well," said Edward, "ride on by my side." And, drawing a pistol as a
precaution, he spurred forward. The country indeed just there would have
greatly favored the fellow's escape, for it was rough, uneven, and
covered with stunted trees and bushes, while a small pine wood flanked
the road on the left or French side, and a _borne_, or landmark, with a
low wall, lay on the other. The highway was wide, however; and Edward
felt certain that if the smith endeavored to gallop off he could bring
him from his horse before he got out of sight. In a moment they were by
the side of Lord Montagu, who checked his horse to hear what they
wanted.
"My lord, my lord," said the man, in very good French, but with great
agitation, "ride fast. Take good advice, and ride fast, or they will
catch you."
"Who will catch me?" asked Montagu, eyeing him.
"I do not know who, exactly," said the man, "Brin, my comrade, has the
names of so many on his list. The cardinal gave it to him before we set
out. But ride fast, for God's sake! There may be time yet."
"Good advice, truly," said Montagu. "Use your spurs, gentlemen. We will
inquire further hereafter, if we can,--if we can: ay, if we can, indeed!
Draw up your horses. Let the rest come forward. Stir not from that spot,
man, or I blow your brains out. Now, who are these before us?"
From a little bridle-path which issued from the wood and crossed the
highroad some twelve or fourteen men, well armed and mounted, had just
ridden out and barred the way.
"Let us charge them at once, my lord," said Edward. "Some of us may cut
through. You shall, if I live."
"Look behind, Ned," said Lord Montagu.
Edward turned his head in the direction to which Montagu had glanced a
moment before, and saw a party not much less numerous than that in
front, with the blacksmith who had disappeared the night before amongst
the foremost. His pistol was in his hand, and the temptation was
irresistible. He threw his arm across his chest without wheeling his
horse, pulled the trigger, and the traitor fell from his saddle with a
bullet in his shoulder.
At the same moment the English groom, who had ridden up at Lord
Montagu's first order, caught the other unhappy man by the arm, and had
the muzzle of his weapon at his ear; but Montagu put it aside before he
could fire, saying, "Vain! vain! Edward, you are always too ready with
those pistols."
"I have given him but his due, my lord, if I die for it the next
minute," said Edward. "But see: that tall man with the white scarf is
waving it to your lordship."
"Stay here, and I will go forward a little," said Lord Montagu. "There
is nothing for it but to surrender quietly. They are five to one."
"Let me go with you, my lord," said Edward.
"Well, then, put up your pistol," answered Montagu. "The rest stay
here."
Montagu took off his hat in answer to the signal made by the other
party, and rode forward with Edward, while a gentleman of some five or
six and thirty, who seemed the leader of the larger body gathered across
the road, advanced alone to meet the English nobleman. As they neared
each other, the two saluted courteously; and throughout their interview
the utmost politeness manifested itself, instead of the ferocious
roughness which in a French picture of this very incident is represented
as characterizing the demeanor of M. de Bourbonne.
The French gentleman spoke first. "I have the honor of wishing you
good-day, my Lord Montagu," he said. "Your lordship is here somewhat
earlier than we expected you."
"I am sorry I did not know, sir, that you are so matutinal in your
habits," replied Montagu, somewhat superciliously; "otherwise I should
have been here earlier still."
"Doubtless," answered the other. "But I need not now tell your lordship
that, being later than you intended, it is useless to attempt to pursue
your journey to-day."
"Why, the roads seem very bad, it is true," said Montagu. "I had hoped
that my good friend the Duke of Lorraine kept his highways in better
order."
"I am afraid, my lord," said the stranger, "that the French Government
must bear the blame in this instance; for you are now upon French soil.
That landmark points out the boundary."
"I did not mark the landmark," answered the Englishman; "but, if I be
upon French territory, may I know to whom I am indebted for this
hospitable reception?"
"My name, my lord, is Bourbonne,--the Count de Bourbonne," said the
other. "I only last night heard of your lordship's arrival in these
parts; and I at once made preparation to receive you in my chateau."
"We expected something of the kind," rejoined Montagu; "for a personage
who had attached himself to my service on the road thought fit to absent
himself last night, and we judged he would most likely spread the rumor
of my coming. In truth, I wished to spare all noble gentlemen the
hospitable trouble you seem inclined to take, and, indeed, would a great
deal rather not inflict it upon you now."
"No trouble in the world, my lord," replied the count. "And, indeed, I
must insist upon the honor of entertaining you till you can be better
lodged. As to the poor man who favored me with notice of your approach,
I am afraid he has met with a little accident. I heard the report of a
pistol, and saw one of the people there fall off his horse."
"A pure accident," said Montagu, in an indifferent tone. "One of my
attendants had a pistol in his hand and his finger upon the trigger. He
was seized at that moment with a convulsive affection to which he is
sometimes subject: the hammer fell, and the bullet flew out of the
muzzle. In those cases, monsieur le comte, the ball, as you must have
often remarked, flies right at the greatest villain it can find. It is
invariable, I believe."
"Very probably," answered De Bourbonne: "I will ask a philosopher his
opinion. But, in the mean time, may I ask your lordship if there are
more accidents of the same kind likely to happen? Are there any other
gentlemen of yours with their fingers on their triggers?"
"Oh, no!" replied Montagu. "I made them put all their pistols up as soon
as I comprehended the pressing nature of the invitation I was about to
receive, and the forcible arguments ready to back it. Am I to understand
that it is extended to my attendants also?"
"To every one," replied the count, with a low bow. "I could never think
of asking your lordship to my house without including your friends and
followers."
"You do me too much honor," said Montagu. "But amongst my followers you
will find a comrade of the worthy gentleman who did me the favor of
being my harbinger. Now, if I have any influence with you, my lord
count, I would bespeak for him a high place, not in your esteem, but on
your castle. Doubtless you have battlements, or iron stanchions, or
things of that kind, about, to which you could raise him _sus per_
_col_. He has all the same qualities as his friend, whom you already
know, and is a Savoyard, he says,[5]--though we have some doubts upon
the subject."
"I should be most happy to oblige your lordship in any thing," answered
the Count de Bourbonne; "but you know the king is the bestower of all
dignities and the fountain of all honors; and therefore I cannot take
upon me to raise the gentleman to the elevated position you desire for
him."
"Well, well," replied Montagu, "time works wonders; and doubtless he
will meet his deserts sooner or later. May I ask if you have lately
heard from our mutual friend the Cardinal de Richelieu?"
"Last night, my lord," answered Bourbonne. "He was quite well, and
desired me to inquire particularly after your health."
"I expected no less of his courtesy," said the English nobleman. "But I
see your people are closing up pretty near, and, if I mistake not, have
got possession of my valet's horse, with a desire of lightening the poor
beast's load. We had probably better join them, as the man does not
comprehend much French; and Englishmen are sometimes so surly and stupid
that it is impossible to get them to comprehend the force of numbers."
"At your pleasure," replied the count; and, making a sign to his
followers on the road to the north to join him, he went quietly to the
spot where Mr. Oakingham and Lord Montagu's servants had remained.
He now somewhat changed his tone, and, abandoning the bantering mood in
which he and Lord Montagu had indulged, but still with undiminished
courtesy of manner, required all present but his own followers to give
up their arms. Edward for one did so with regret; but still it was some
satisfaction to him to see the treacherous blacksmith lying on the bank
with his comrade busily engaged in bandaging his wounded shoulder.
"I will now have the honor of conducting you to my poor house," said the
count, bowing to Lord Montagu; and, with five or six armed men before
and a larger number following, with three on each side to guard against
any evasion, he commenced his march. Before departing, however, he spoke
a word or two to one of his attendants; and Edward remarked that, as
they went, a diligent examination was made of all the pistols which his
party had given up, as if to ascertain which had been discharged; and he
doubted not that some consequences not very agreeable to himself would
follow the inevitable discovery that he had fired the shot which had
wounded the traitor.
The road wound through one of the wildest parts of France, just upon the
frontier of Champagne and Bar; two or three small rivers had to be
crossed; the country was but little cultivated, bearing more the aspect
of a sandy moor than of the entrance to one of the richest
wine-districts in the world; and more than once Edward cast his eyes
around, thinking that it might be no difficult matter to escape and find
a refuge in Lorraine if he could but avoid the pistol-shots which were
sure to follow him. Had he been intrusted with the care of Lord
Montagu's papers he would certainly have made the attempt, but he knew
not even who carried them, and he resolved not to abandon his lord
except for his service.
Whether Montagu divined what was passing in his mind or not, I cannot
tell; but, after they had gone about half a mile, he called Edward to
his side and said to him, in English, "Keep still, Ned. Activity will do
no good here. The best thing for all of us is to be perfectly passive.
If I had trusted to your young, sharp eyes sooner, it might have been
better; but it is too late now either to regret or amend what is done."
"May I request your lordship to speak to your attendants in French?"
said Monsieur de Bourbonne. "You speak our tongue in such perfection,
my lord, that it must be as familiar to you as your own."
"I shall probably have time to study it more profoundly," answered
Montagu, with a smile. "But you can inform me yourself, count, if that
fine old chateau upon the height is Bourbonne, where we shall rest, I
presume."
"That is Bourbonne," replied the count; "and the little town you may
catch sight of down there in the hollow, a little to the left. But,
though we will stop there to take some refreshment, I think that the
Castle of Coiffy will afford your lordship a more convenient
resting-place."
"Oh, yes! I remember Coiffy," answered Montagu, laughing. "I passed
close to it some three months ago. It is a strong place, and so well
built, I am told, count, that the garrison cannot hear the drums of
Lorraine beat at Bar."
"That is only because they do not pay attention to them, my lord,"
replied Bourbonne.
As they rode on, the old chateau grew more and more clearly defined; and
the state of decay into which the ancient defences had fallen showed
plainly why it had not been chosen for the place of Montagu's detention.
In the village the party stopped to breakfast, and the English nobleman
was treated with every sort of respectful attention; but a strict guard
was kept at the door of the chamber where he was served. The attendants
had some food placed before them in another room; but they were as
carefully watched. In about an hour the march recommenced, and shortly
after, while gazing forward, Edward perceived rising over the trees at
the distance of several miles the towers of Coiffy, a much stronger
place than Bourbonne, which he never lost sight of till they reached the
drawbridge.
It was apparent that their coming had been made known beforehand, for
all was evidently prepared to receive Lord Montagu with ceremonious
politeness. An old gentleman whom they called Monsieur de Boulogne stood
in the gateway, hat in hand, and immediately proceeded to conduct the
noble prisoner to his apartments.
Mr. Oakingham followed, and Edward Langdale was about to do the same,
when the Count de Bourbonne took him by the arm, saying, "Stop, young
man! I destine another chamber for you."
His tone was somewhat menacing, and Edward turned round and gazed full
in his face.
"Tell me," said the count, "and mind you tell me true----"
"If I tell you any thing at all, I shall tell you the truth," answered
Edward, interrupting him: "so spare such exhortations, sir count. But it
is probable that I shall not answer a small gentleman of Champagne at
all, especially if he interrogates me in a manner which much greater
personages than himself have never displayed toward me."
It is probable that this rude answer was intended to stop all inquiries
into Lord Montagu's affairs,--for Edward did not doubt that they were
about to be the subject of De Bourbonne's questions; but the count gazed
on him with extreme surprise, exclaiming, "Ha! Whom have we here? A
small gentleman of Champagne! Will your magnificence have the
condescension, then, to inform the small gentleman of Champagne if it
was your hand that sent a pistol-ball into the shoulder of a poor
personage who came up with my train when I first had the honor of seeing
you?"
"It was by accident I shot him in the shoulder," replied Edward: "I
intended the ball for his head."
"If he dies we may find a rope that will fit you, young man," said the
count; and, beckoning up the man who had examined the pistols on the
road, he said, "Take him away and put him in the dungeon where I told
you."
"If you hang me, sir count," said Edward, without the slightest alarm,
"you will do so with the passport in my breast which was given me by his
Eminence of Richelieu with his own hand. You had better ask the two
spies a few questions before you treat me with any thing like
indignity."
So saying, he followed the man to whom Bourbonne had spoken. Another
soldier took a lantern from a hook and came after; and in a minute or
two Edward found himself pushed into a room where the faint light of the
lantern only served to show the shining damp which clung to the stone
walls.
[Footnote 5: These two men, who adhered to Lord Montagu through his
whole journey, first tracking him from place to place with the sagacity
and pertinacity of well-trained hounds, and then contriving to get
admitted to his service, were in reality Basques. Some have supposed
that they were creatures of Monsieur de Bourbonne; but there seems no
doubt they were two of the many skilful agents whom Richelieu took care
to provide himself with in every rank of life.]