Thus began the friendship of the bragging Seigneur of Rozel for the
three Huguenots, all because he had seen tears in a girl’s eyes and
misunderstood them, and because the same girl had kissed him. His
pride was flattered that they should receive protection from him, and
the flattery became almost a canonizing when De Carteret of St.
Ouen’s brought him to task for harboring and comforting the despised
Huguenots; for when De Carteret railed he was envious. So henceforth
Lemprière played lord protector with still more boisterous unction.
His pride knew no bounds when, three days after the rescue, Sir Hugh
Pawlett, the governor, answering De la Forêt’s letter requesting
permission to visit the Comtesse de Montgomery, sent him word to
fetch De la Forêt to Mont Orgueil Castle. Clanking and blowing, he
was shown into the great hall with De la Forêt, where waited Sir Hugh
and the widow of the renowned Camisard. Clanking and purring like an
enormous cat, he turned his head away to the window when De la Forêt
dropped on his knees and kissed the hand of the comtesse, whose eyes
were full of tears. Clanking and gurgling, he sat at a mighty meal of
turbot, eels, lobsters, ormers, capons, boar’s head, brawn and
mustard, swan, curlew, and spiced meats. This he washed down with
bastard, malmsey, and good ale, topped with almonds, comfits,
perfumed cherries with “ipocras,” then sprinkled himself with
rose-water and dabbled his face and hands in it. Filled to the
turret, he lurched to his feet, and, drinking to Sir Hugh’s toast,
“Her sacred Majesty!” he clanked and roared “Elizabeth!” as though
upon the field of battle. He felt the star of De Carteret declining
and Rozel’s glory ascending like a comet. Once set in a course,
nothing could change him. Other men might err, but, once right, the
Seigneur of Rozel was everlasting.
Of late he had made the cause of Michel de la Forêt and Angèle Aubert
his own. For this he had been raked upon the coals by De Carteret of
St. Ouen’s and his following, who taunted him with the saying, “Save
a thief from hanging and he’ll cut your throat.” Not that there was
ill feeling against De la Forêt in person. He had won most hearts by
a frank yet still manner, and his story and love for Angèle had
touched the women folk where their hearts were softest. But the
island was not true to itself or its history if it did not divide
itself into factions, headed by the seigneurs, and there had been no
ground for good division for five years till De la Forêt came.
Short of actual battle, this new strife was the keenest ever known,
for Sir Hugh Pawlett was ranged on the side of the Seigneur of Rozel.
Kinsman of the Comtesse de Montgomery, of Queen Elizabeth’s own
Protestant religion, and admiring De la Forêt, he had given every
countenance to the Camisard refugee. He had even besought the royal
court of Jersey to grant a pardon to Buonespoir the pirate, on
condition that he should never commit a depredation upon an
inhabitant of the island--this he was to swear to by the little
finger of St. Peter. Should he break his word he was to be banished
the island for ten years, under penalty of death if he returned. When
the hour had come for Buonespoir to take the oath he failed to
appear, and the next morning the Seigneur of St. Ouen’s discovered
that during the night his cellar had been raided of two kegs of
canary, many flagons of muscadella, pots of anchovies and boxes of
candied “eringo,” kept solely for the visit which the Queen had
promised the island. There was no doubt of the misdemeanant, for
Buonespoir returned to De Carteret from St. Brieuc the gabardine of
one of his retainers, in which he had carried off the stolen
delicacies.
This aggravated the feud between the partisans of St. Ouen’s and
Rozel, for Lemprière of Rozel had laughed loudly when he heard of the
robbery, and said: “’Tis like St. Ouen’s to hoard for a queen and
glut a pirate. We feed as we get at Rozel, and will feed the court
well, too, when it comes, or I’m no butler to Elizabeth!”
But trouble was at hand for Michel and for his protector. The spies
of Catherine de Medici, mother of the King of France, were
everywhere. These had sent word that De la Forêt was now attached to
the meagre suite of the widow of the great Camisard Montgomery, near
the Castle of Mont Orgueil. The Medici, having treacherously slain
the chief, became mad with desire to slay the lieutenant. She was set
to have the man, either through diplomacy with England, or to end him
by assassination through her spies. Having determined upon his death,
with relentless soul she pursued the cause as closely as though this
exiled soldier were a powerful enemy at the head of an army in
France.
Thus it was that she wrote to Queen Elizabeth, asking that “this
arrant foe of France, this churl, conspirator, and reviler of the
sacraments, be rendered unto our hands for well-deserved punishment
as warning to all such evil-doers.” She told Elizabeth of De la
Forêt’s arrival in Jersey, disguised as a priest of the Church of
France, and set forth his doings since landing with the Seigneur of
Rozel. Further she went on to say to “our sister of England” that
“these dark figures of murder and revolt be a peril to the soft peace
of this good realm.”
To this Elizabeth, who had no knowledge of Michel, who desired peace
with France at this time, who had favors to ask of Catherine, and who
in her own realm had fresh reason to fear conspiracy through the
Queen of the Scots and others, replied forthwith that, “If this De la
Forêt falleth into our hands, and if it were found he had in truth
conspired against France its throne, had he a million lives, not one
should remain.” Having despatched this letter, she straightway sent a
messenger to Sir Hugh Pawlett in Jersey, making quest of De la Forêt,
and commanding that he should be sent to her in England at once.
When the Queen’s messenger arrived at Orgueil Castle, Lemprière
chanced to be with Sir Hugh Pawlett, and the contents of Elizabeth’s
letter were made known to him.
At the moment Monsieur of Rozel was munching macaroons and washing
them down with canary. The governor’s announcement was such a shock
that he choked and coughed, the crumbs flying in all directions, and
another pint of canary must be taken to flush his throat. Thus
cleared for action, he struck out.
“’Tis St. Ouen’s work,” he growled.
“’Tis the work of the Medici,” said Sir Hugh. “Read,” he added,
holding out the paper.
Now Lemprière of Rozel had a poor eye for reading. He had wit enough
to wind about the difficulty.
“If I see not the Queen’s commands, I’ve no warrant but Sir Hugh
Pawlett’s words, and I’ll to London and ask ‘fore her Majesty’s face
if she wrote them, and why. I’ll tell my tale and speak my mind, I
pledge you, sir.”
“You’ll offend her Majesty. Her commands are here.” Pawlett tapped
the letter with his finger.
“I’m butler to the Queen, and she will list to me. I’ll not smirk and
caper like St. Ouen’s; I’ll bear me like a man not speaking for
himself. I’ll speak as Harry her father spoke--straight to the
purpose.... No, no, no, I’m not to be wheedled, even by a Pawlett,
and you shall not ask me. If you want Michel de la Forêt, come and
take him. He is in my house. But ye must _take_ him, for _come_ he
shall not!”
“You will not oppose the Queen’s officers?”
“De la Forêt is under my roof. He must be taken. I will give him up
to no one; and I’ll tell my sovereign these things when I see her in
her palace.”
“I misdoubt you’ll play the bear,” said Pawlett, with a dry smile.
“The Queen’s tongue is none so tame. I’ll travel by my star, get
sweet or sour.”
“Well, well, ‘give a man luck, and throw him into the sea,’ is the
old proverb. I’m coming for your friend to-night.”
“I’ll be waiting with my fingers on the door, sir,” said Rozel, with
a grim vanity and an outrageous pride in himself.
V
The Seigneur of Rozel found De la Forêt at the house of M. Aubert.
His face was flushed with hard riding, and perhaps the loving
attitude of Michel and Angèle deepened it, for at the garden gate the
lovers were saying adieu.
“You have come for Monsieur de la Forêt?” asked Angèle, anxiously.
Her quick look at the seigneur’s face had told her there were things
amiss.
“There’s commands from the Queen. They’re for the ears of De la
Forêt,” said the seigneur.
“I will hear them, too,” said Angèle, her color going, her bearing
determined.
The seigneur looked down at her with boyish appreciation, then said
to De la Forêt: “Two queens make claim for you. The wolfish
Catherine writes to England for her lost Camisard, with much fool’s
talk about ‘dark figures,’ and ‘conspirators,’ ‘churls,’ and foes of
‘soft peace,’ and England takes the bait and sends to Sir Hugh
Pawlett yonder. And, in brief, monsieur, the governor is to have you
under arrest and send you to England. God knows why two queens make
such a pother over a fellow with naught but a sword and a lass to
love him--though, come to think, ‘a man’s a man if he have but a hose
on his head,’ as the proverb runs.”
De la Forêt smiled, then looked grave as he caught sight of Angèle’s
face. “’Tis arrest, then?” he asked.
“’Tis come willy-nilly,” answered the seigneur. “And once they’ve
forced you from my doors, I’m for England to speak my mind to the
Queen. I can make interest for her presence--I hold court office!” he
added, with puffing confidence.
Angèle looked up at him with quick tears, yet with a smile on her
lips.
“You are going to England for Michel’s sake?” she said, in a low
voice.
“For Michel, or for you, or for mine honor,--what matter, so that I
go?” he answered, then added, “There must be haste to Rozel, friend,
lest the governor take Lemprière’s guest like a potato-digger in the
fields.”
Putting spurs to his horse, he cantered heavily away, not forgetting
to wave a pompous farewell to Angèle.
De la Forêt was smiling as he turned to Angèle. She looked
wonderingly at him, for she had felt that she must comfort him, and
she looked not for this sudden change in his manner.
“Is prison-going so blithe, then?” she asked, with a little uneasy
laugh which was half a sob.
“It will bring things to a head,” he answered. “After danger and busy
days, to be merely safe, it is scarce the life for Michel de la
Forêt. I have my duty to the comtesse; I have my love for you; but I
seem of little use by contrast with my past. And yet, and yet,” he
added, half sadly, “how futile has been all our fighting, so far as
human eye can see!”
“Nothing is futile that is right, Michel,” the girl replied. “Thou
hast done as thy soul answered to God’s messages: thou hast fought
when thou couldst, and thou hast sheathed thy blade when there was
naught else to do. Are not both right?”
He clasped her to his breast, then, holding her from him a little,
looked into her eyes steadily a moment.
“God hath given thee a true heart, and the true heart hath wisdom,”
he answered.
“You will not seek escape? Nor resist the governor?” she asked,
eagerly.
“Whither should I go? My place is here by you, by the Comtesse de
Montgomery. One day it may be I shall return to France and to our
cause--”
“If it be God’s will.”
“If it be God’s will.”
“Whatever comes, you will love me, Michel?”
“I will love you whatever comes.”
“Listen.” She drew his head down. “I am no drag-weight to thy life?
Thou wouldst not do otherwise if there were no foolish Angèle?”
He did not hesitate. “What is best is. I might do otherwise if there
were no Angèle in my life to pilot my heart, but that were worse for
me.”
“Thou art the best lover in all the world.”
“I hope to make a better husband. To-morrow is carmine-lettered in my
calendar, if thou sayest thou wilt still have me under the sword of
the Medici.”
Her hand pressed her heart suddenly. “Under the sword, if it be God’s
will,” she answered. Then, with a faint smile, “But no, I will not
believe the Queen of England will send thee, one of her own
Protestant faith, to the Medici.”
“And thou wilt marry me?”
“When the Queen of England approves thee,” she answered, and buried
her face in the hollow of his arm.
* * * * *
An hour later Sir Hugh Pawlett came to the manor-house of Rozel with
twoscore men-at-arms. The seigneur himself answered the governor’s
knocking, and showed himself in the doorway with a dozen halberdiers
behind him.
“I have come seeking Michel de la Forêt,” said the governor.
“He is my guest.”
“I have the Queen’s command to take him.”
“He is my cherished guest.”
“Must I force my way?”
“Is it the Queen’s will that blood be shed?”
“The Queen’s commands must be obeyed.”
“The Queen is a miracle of the world, God save her! What is the
charge against him?”
“Summon Michel de la Forêt, ’gainst whom it lies.”
“He is my guest; ye shall have him only by force.”
The governor turned to his men. “Force the passage and search the
house,” he commanded.
The company advanced with levelled pikes, but at a motion from the
seigneur his men fell back before them, and, making a lane,
disclosed Michel de la Forêt at the end of it. Michel had not
approved of Lemprière’s mummery of defence, but he understood from
what good spirit it sprang, and how it flattered the seigneur’s
vanity to make show of resistance.
The governor greeted De la Forêt with a sour smile, read to him the
Queen’s writ, and politely begged his company towards Mont Orgueil
Castle.
“I’ll fetch other commands from her Majesty, or write me down a
peddler of St. Ouen’s follies,” the seigneur said from his doorway,
as the governor and De la Forêt bade him good-bye and took the road
to the castle.