DUKE AND SUBJECTS
Without delay the Duke wore the iron crown in St. Etienne, and the
city decked itself in wreaths and garlands, and shouted itself hoarse.
Some shouted for the Duke, but more for Roger Herrick, who rode close
behind him.
Maurice had been called to perform no easy task, to win a love that
had been given to another. Herrick had become a popular idol, and it
was but natural that a great wave of regret should sweep through
Vayenne at his resignation. The people looked coldly upon the new
Duke, and were inclined to resent his coming at this eleventh hour. At
first it seemed probable that a certain section of them would rise in
rebellion, but this did not happen; only there was discontent in the
city, and murmuring even in the castle. The face of Gaspard Lemasle
wore a settled frown, and Pierre Briant's outlook upon life became a
dismal one. It was a long time before they ceased to speak of Herrick
as the Duke.
Herrick strove to obliterate himself as much as possible, but he was
Maurice's constant adviser. At his suggestion the Council of Nobles
was made a permanent assembly--it served to bind the powerful men in
the country to the throne--and many concessions and privileges were
granted to the citizens which Maurice's father had always refused to
grant. The rumor was allowed to go forth that even Herrick would not
have made such concessions; they were entirely due to Duke Maurice.
Maurice himself labored bravely at his difficult task. He asserted
himself with dignity. The people began to admire the strong, young
figure which so often rode through the streets. He tried to prove that
he was a Duke worthy of love and respect, and success came, if it came
slowly.
Herrick had literally wrung the gift of Felix's life from the people,
but this did not prevent a wild outburst of popular feeling when the
Count left the city. He was taken out at night under a strong escort;
but the news of his going had leaked out, and instead of going to bed,
Vayenne stayed up to curse the man it hated as he passed through it
for the last time. It was said that the Count had sent to the Countess
Elisabeth asking her to follow him into banishment, and that she had
refused. She remained in Vayenne, in the house in the Place
Beauvoisin, the beautiful Countess still, with a romance in her life
which accounted for her loneliness, and the hair whitened before its
time. Yet no one seemed certain what that romance was.
But this is a step into the future before the present is done with.
There was another rumor in Vayenne which pleased the people. The Duke
was to marry before the year was out. The prince, passing all others,
had come to kneel at the feet of Lucille. The last of that family so
long under a cloud was destined to win back place and power, and to
become Duchess of Montvilliers.
It had been known in the city for some time that Roger Herrick was to
marry Christine de Liancourt. Titles and honors and wealth had been
showered upon Herrick. He was a prince in the land, second only to the
Duke. Some, Gaspard Lemasle and Pierre Briant among the number, would
not subscribe even to this reservation.
They were married in the great Church of St. Etienne, and the whole
city shouted God speed and happiness to them.
"I would they were Duke and Duchess," some whispered on their homeward
way; and Gaspard Lemasle drank a deep health to them that night with a
like thought in his mind.
And now that the Duke was becoming firmly seated upon his throne,
Herrick declared that it would be wise for him and Christine to go
away for a little while after their marriage.
"We shall be back for your wedding," he told Maurice, "and my absence
will help to strengthen your position. Besides, I want to show
Christine what a very unimportant man I really am out of
Montvilliers."
So they departed one sunny morning, an escort with them. Herrick had
asked in vain to be allowed to go as a private person. At the brow of
the hill he stopped the carriage for a moment.
"It was from this spot that I first saw the city of my dreams," he
said.
Christine's hand stole into his.
"And now you have awakened in it," she said, "lived in it, ruled it,
and----"
"And found love in it," he whispered.
Faintly on the breeze came the music of the carillon. Time passeth
into Eternity, and Time is a small matter, it laughed softly.
"And found love," Herrick repeated.
Then the carriage went on, descending slowly toward that long,
straight road which leads to the frontier.