Which shows a new use for an old Castle; and gives a good receipt
for leading a man by the nose.
Now if the reader imagined that I wrote the whole of the twelfth chapter
of the last volume for the sole purpose of telling a cock and a bull
story about a country innkeeper and conjuror's first cousin, he was very
much mistaken. Let him immediately transport himself back to the little
village of Mesnil St. Loup, and let him remember the church, and the old
trees, and the ruined castle beyond, with all the circumstances
thereunto appertaining; and if any thing that has since passed has put
the particulars out of his mind, let him return to the aforesaid twelfth
chapter, and learn it by heart, as a penance for having forgotten it.
But if, on the contrary, he remembers it fully--I will go on with my
story.
It was in the old Chateau of St. Loup, near the village of Mesnil, on a
sultry evening about the end of September, that a party was assembled,
who, in point of rank and greatness of design, had seldom been equalled
within those walls, even when they were the habitation of the great and
beautiful of other days. But years and centuries had passed since they
had been so tenanted. The court-yard was full of weeds, and grass, and
tangled shrubs: the ivy creeping over the ruined walls obtruded its long
branches through the unglazed windows, and the breaches which the siege
of time had effected in the solid masonry, gave entrance to the wind of
night and the wintry tempest.
The chamber that had been chosen for a place of meeting on the present
occasion was one which, more than any other, had escaped the hand of
desolation. The casements, it is true, had long ceased to boast of
glass, and part of the wall itself had given way, encumbering with its
broken fragments the farther end of the great saloon, as it had once
been called. The rest, however, of the chamber was in very tolerable
repair, and contained also several pieces of furniture, consisting of
more than one rude seat, and a large uncouth table, which evidently had
never belonged to the castle in its days of splendour.
At the head of this table sat Gaston Duke of Orleans, the younger
brother of the King, leaning his head upon his hand in an attitude of
listless indifference, and amusing himself by brushing the dust which
had gathered on the board before him, into a thousand fanciful shapes
with the feather of a pen--now forming fortifications with lines and
parallels, and half moons and curtains--and then sweeping them all
heedlessly away--offering no bad image of the many vast and intricate
plans he had engaged in, all of which he had overthrown alike by his
caprice and indecision.
Near him sat his two great favourites and advisers, Montressor and St.
Ibal: the first of whom was really the inconsiderate fool he seemed;
the second, though not without his share of folly, concealed deeper
plans under his assumed carelessness. These two men, whose pride was in
daring every thing, affected to consider nothing in the world worth
trouble or attention, professing at the same time perfect indifference
to danger and uncomfort, and contending that vice and virtue were merely
names, which signified any thing, according to their application. Such
was the creed of their would-be philosophy; and Montressor lost no
opportunity of evincing that heedlessness of every thing serious which
formed the principal point of his doctrine. In the present instance he
had produced a couple of dice from his pocket, and was busily engaged in
throwing with St. Ibal for some pieces of gold which lay between them.
Two more completed the party assembled in the old Chateau of St. Loup.
The first of these was Cinq Mars: his quick and ardent spirit did not
suffer him to join in the frivolous pastimes of the others, but on the
contrary, he kept walking up and down the apartment, as if impatient
for the arrival of some one expected by all; and every now and then, as
he turned at the extremity of the chamber, he cast a glance upon the
weak Duke and his vicious companions, almost amounting to scorn.
Beside the Master of the Horse, and keeping an equal pace, was the
celebrated President De Thou, famed for unswerving integrity and the
mild dignity of virtuous courage. His personal appearance, however,
corresponded ill with the excellence of his mind; and his plain
features, ill-formed figure, and inelegant movements, contrasted
strongly with the handsome countenance and princely gait of Cinq Mars,
as well as the calm pensive expression of his downcast eye, with the
wild and rapid glance of his companion's.
As the time wore away, the impatience of Cinq Mars visibly increased;
and every two or three minutes he would stop, and look out from one of
the open casements, and then approaching the table would take one of
the torches, of which there were several lighted in the room, and
strike it against the wall to increase the flame. "It is very
extraordinary," cried he at length, "that Fontrailles has not yet
arrived."
"Oh! no, Cinq Mars," replied De Thou, "we are a full hour before the
time. You were so impatient, my good friend, that you made us all set
off long before it was necessary."
"Why, it is quite dark," said the Master of the Horse, "and Fontrailles
promised to be here at nine.--It is surely nine, is it not, Montressor?"
"Size ace," said the Gambler, "_quatre à quatre_, St. Ibal. I shall win
yet!"
"Pshaw!" cried Cinq Mars--"who will tell me the time? I wish we could
have clocks made small enough to put in our pockets."
"I will show you what will tell us the hour as well as if we had,"
answered De Thou. "Look out there in the west! Do you see what a red
light the sun still casts upon those heavy masses of cloud that are
coming up? Now the sun goes down at seven; so you may judge it can
scarce be eight yet."
"_Cinq quatre!_" cried Montressor, throwing. "I have lost, after
all--Monsieur De Thou, will you bet me a thousand crowns that it is not
past eight by the village clock of Mesnil St. Loup?"
"No, indeed!" replied the President; "I neither wish to win your money,
Monsieur Montressor, nor to lose my own. Nor do I see how such a bet
could be determined."
"Oh! if you do not take the bet, there is no use of inquiring how it
might be determined," rejoined Montressor. "Monseigneur," he continued,
turning to the Duke of Orleans, who had just swept away his last
fortification, and was laying out a flower-garden in its place; "can you
tell how in the name of fortune these chairs and this table came here,
when all the rest of the place is as empty as your Highness's purse?"
"Or as your head, Montressor," answered the Duke. "But the truth is,
they were the property of poor old Père Le Rouge, who lived for many
years in these ruins,--half-knave, half-madman,--till they tried and
burnt him for a sorcerer down in the wood there at the foot of the hill.
Since then it has been called the Sorcerer's Grove, and the country
people are not fond of passing through it, which has doubtless saved the
old Conjuror's furniture from being burnt for firewood; for none of the
old women in the neighbourhood dare come to fetch it, or infallibly it
would undergo the same fate as its master."
"So, that wood is called the Sorcerer's Grove," said St. Ibal, laughing:
"that is the reason your Highness brought us round the other way, is it
not?"
Gaston of Orleans coloured a good deal at a jest which touched too near
one of his prevailing weaknesses; for no one was more tinctured with the
superstition of the day than himself, yet no one was more ashamed of
such credulity. "No, no!" answered he; "I put no faith in Père Le Rouge
and his prophecies. He made too great a mistake in my own case to show
himself to me since his predictions have proved false, I will answer for
him."
"Why, what did he predict about you, Monseigneur?" asked De Thou, who
knew the faith which the Duke still placed in astrology.
"A great deal of nonsense," answered the Duke, affecting a tone very
foreign to his real feelings. "He predicted that I should marry the
Queen, after the death of Louis. Now, you see, I have married some one
else, and therefore his prophecy was false. But however, as I said,
these chairs belonged to him: where he got them I know not--perhaps from
the Devil; but at all events, I wish he were here to fill one now; he
would be a good companion in our adventures." As he spoke, a bright
flash of lightning blazed through the apartment, followed by a loud and
rolling peal of thunder, which made the Duke start, exclaiming, "Jesu!
what a flash!"
"Your Highness thought it was Père Le Rouge," said St. Ibal; "but he
would most likely come in at the door, if he did come; not through the
window."
Gaston of Orleans heard the jests of his two companions without anger;
and a moment or two after, Cinq Mars, who stood near one of the
dilapidated casements, turned round, exclaiming, "Hark! I hear the sound
of a horse's feet: it is Fontrailles at last. Give me a torch; I will
show him where we are."
"If it should be the Devil now----" said Montressor, as Cinq Mars left
the room.
"Or Père Le Rouge," added St. Ibal.
"Or both," said the Duke of Orleans.
"Why for cunning and mischief they would scarcely supply the place of
one Fontrailles," rejoined St. Ibal. "But here comes one or the
other,--I suppose it is the same to your Royal Highness which."
"Oh, yes!" answered the Duke, "they shall all be welcome. Nothing like
keeping good company, St. Ibal."
As he spoke, Cinq Mars returned, accompanied by Fontrailles, both
laughing with no small glee. "What makes ye so merry, my Lords?"
exclaimed Montressor; "a laugh too good a thing to be lost. Has Monsieur
de Fontrailles encountered his old friend Sathanus by the road-side, or
what?"
"Not so," answered Cinq Mars, "he has only bamboozled an innkeeper. But
come, Fontrailles, let us not lose time: will you read over the articles
of alliance to which we are to put our names; and let us determine upon
them to-night, for, if we meet frequently in this way, we shall become
suspected ere our design be ripe."
"Willingly for my part," replied Fontrailles, approaching the table, and
speaking with some degree of emphasis, but without immediately deviating
into declamation. "There certainly never was a case when speedy decision
was more requisite than the present. Every man in this kingdom, from the
King to the peasant, has felt, and does now feel, the evils which we are
met to remedy. It is no longer zeal, but necessity, which urges us to
oppose the tyranny of this daring Minister. It is no longer patriotism,
but self-defence. In such a case, all means are justifiable; for when a
man (as Richelieu has done) breaks through every law, human and divine,
to serve the ungenerous purpose of his own aggrandizement; when he
sports with the lives of his fellow-creatures with less charity than a
wild beast; are we not bound to consider him as such, and to hunt him to
the death for the general safety?"
De Thou shook his head, as if there was something in the proposition to
which he could not subscribe; but Cinq Mars at once gave his unqualified
assent, and all being seated round the table, Fontrailles drew forth
some papers, and proceeded.
"This, then, is our first grand object," said he: "to deprive this
tyrant, whose abuse of power not only extends to oppress the subject,
but who even dares, with most monstrous presumption, to curb and
overrule the Royal authority, making the Monarch a mere slave to his
will, and the Monarch's name but a shield behind which to shelter his
own crimes and iniquities--I say, to deprive this usurping favourite of
the means of draining the treasures, sacrificing the honour, and
spilling the blood of France; thereby to free our King from bondage, to
restore peace and tranquillity to our country, and to bring back to our
homes long banished confidence, security, and ease--To this you all
agree?"
A general assent followed, and Fontrailles went on.
"Safely to effect our purpose, it is not only necessary to use every
energy of our minds, but to exert all the local power we possess. Every
member, therefore, of our association will use all his influence with
those who are attached to him by favour or connexion, and prepare all
his vassals, troops, and retainers, to act in whatsoever manner shall
hereafter be determined, and will also amass whatever sums he can
procure for the general object. It will also be necessary to concentrate
certain bodies of men on particular points, for the purpose of seizing
on some strong fortified places. And farther, it will be advisable
narrowly to watch the movements of the Cardinal, in order to make
ourselves masters of his person."
"But whose authority shall we have for this?" demanded De Thou; "for
while he continues Prime Minister by the King's consent, we are
committing high treason to restrain his person."
"We must not be so scrupulous, De Thou," rejoined Cinq Mars; "we must
free his Majesty from those magic chains in which Richelieu has so long
held his mind, before we can expect him to do any thing openly: but I
will take it upon me to procure his private assent. I have sounded his
inclinations already, and am sure of my ground. But proceed,
Fontrailles: let us hear what arrangements you have made respecting
troops, for we must have some power to back us, or we shall fail."
"Well, then," said Fontrailles, "I bring with me the most generous
offers from the noble Duke of Bouillon. They are addressed to you, Cinq
Mars, but were sent open to me. I may as well, therefore, give their
contents at once, and you can afterwards peruse them at your leisure.
The Duke here offers to place his town and principality of Sedan in our
hands, as a depôt for arms and munition, and also as a place of retreat
and safety, and a rendezvous for the assembling of forces. He farther
promises, on the very first call, to march his victorious troops from
Italy, when, as he says, every soldier will exult in the effort to
liberate his country."
"Generously promised of the Duke," exclaimed Montressor, slapping the
table with mock enthusiasm. "My head to a bunch of Macon grapes, he
expects to be prime minister in Richelieu's place."
"The Duke of Bouillon, Monsieur de Montressor," replied Cinq Mars
somewhat warmly, "has the good of his country at heart; and is too much
a man of honour to harbour the ungenerous thought you would attribute to
him."
"My dear Cinq Mars, do not be angry," said Montressor. "Don't you see
how much the odds were in my favour? Why, I betted my head to a bunch
of grapes, and who do you think would be fool enough to hazard a full
bunch of grapes against an empty head? But go on, Fontrailles; where are
the next troops to come from?"
"From Spain!" answered Fontrailles calmly; while at the name of that
country, at open war with France, and for years considered as its most
dangerous enemy, each countenance round the table assumed a look of
astonishment and disapprobation, which would probably have daunted any
other than the bold conspirator who named it.
"No, no!" exclaimed Gaston of Orleans, as soon as he had recovered
breath. "None of the Spanish Catholicon for me;" alluding to the name
which had been used to stigmatize the assistance that the League had
received from Spain during the civil wars occasioned by the accession of
Henry IV. to the throne. "No, no! Monsieur de Fontrailles, this is high
treason at once."
St. Ibal was generally supposed, and with much appearance of truth, to
have some secret connexion with the Spanish court; and having now
recovered from the first surprise into which he had been thrown by the
bold mention of an alliance with that obnoxious country, he jested at
the fears of the timid and unsteady Duke, well knowing that by such
means he was easily governed. "Death to my soul!" exclaimed he. "Your
Highness calls out against high treason, when it is what you have lived
upon all your life! Why, it is meat, drink, and clothing to you. A
little treason is as necessary to your comfort as a dice-box is to
Montressor, a Barbary horse to Cinq Mars, or a bird-net and
hawking-glove to the King. But to speak seriously, Monseigneur," he
continued, "is it not necessary that we should have some farther support
than that which Monsieur de Bouillon promises? His enthusiasm may have
deceived him;--his troops may not be half so well inclined to our cause
as he is himself;--he might be taken ill;--he might either be arrested
by the gout, to which he is subject; or by the Cardinal, to whom we all
wish he was not subject. A thousand causes might prevent his giving us
the assistance he intends, and then what an useful auxiliary would Spain
prove. Besides, we do not call in Spain, to fight against France, but
for France. Spain is not an enemy of the country, but only of the
Cardinal; and the moment _that_ man is removed, who for his sole
interest and to render himself necessary has carried on a war which has
nearly depopulated the kingdom, a lasting and glorious peace will be
established between the two countries; and thus we shall confer another
great benefit on the nation."
"Why, in that point of view, I have no objection," replied the Duke of
Orleans. "But do you not think that Louis will disapprove of it?"
"We must not let him know it," said Montressor, "till Richelieu is
removed, and then he will be as glad of it as any one."
"But still," rejoined the Duke with more pertinacity than he generally
displayed, "I am not fond of bringing Spanish troops into France. Who
can vouch that we shall ever get rid of them?"
"That will I," answered St. Ibal. "Has your Highness forgot what good
faith and courtesy the Spanish government has shown you in your exile;
as also the assistance it yielded to your late Royal Mother? Besides, we
need not call in a large body of troops. What number do you propose,
Fontrailles?"
"The offer of Spain is five thousand," replied Fontrailles; "with the
promise of ten thousand more, should we require it. Nothing can be more
open and noble than the whole proceeding of King Philip. He leaves it
entirely to ourselves what guarantee we will place in his hands for the
safety of his troops."
"Well, well," said the Duke of Orleans, getting tired of the subject, "I
have no doubt of their good faith. I am satisfied, St. Ibal; and
whatever you think right, I will agree to. I leave it all to you and
Montressor."
"Well then," said Fontrailles hastily, "that being settled, we will
proceed--"
"Your pardon, gentlemen," interposed De Thou, "I must be heard now--Your
schemes extend much farther than I had any idea of--Cinq Mars, I was not
informed of all this--had I been so, I would never have come here. To
serve my country, to rid her of a Minister who, as I conceive, has
nearly destroyed her, who has trampled France under his feet, and
enthralled her in a blood-stained chain, I would to-morrow lay my head
upon the block--Frown not, Monsieur de Fontrailles--Cinq Mars, my noble
friend, do not look offended--but I cannot, I will not be a party to the
crime into which mistaken zeal is hurrying you. Are we not subjects of
France? and is not France at war with Spain? and though we may all wish
and pray God that this war may cease, yet to treat or conspire with that
hostile kingdom is an act which makes us traitors to our country and
rebels to our King. Old De Thou has but two things to lose--his life and
his honour. His life is valueless. He would sacrifice it at once for
the least benefit to his country. He would sacrifice it, Cinq Mars, for
his friendship for you. But his honour must not be sullied: and as
through life he has kept it unstained, so shall it go with him unstained
to his last hour. Were it merely personal danger you called upon me to
undergo, I would not bestow a thought upon the risk: but my fame, my
allegiance, my very salvation are concerned, and I will never give my
sanction to a plan which begins by the treasonable proposal of bringing
foreign enemies into the heart of the land."
"As to your salvation, Monsieur le President," said Montressor, "I'll
undertake to buy that for you for a hundred crowns. You shall have an
indulgence to commit sins _ad libitum_, in which high treason shall be
specified by name. Now, though these red-hot heretics of Germany, who
seem inclined to bring that fiery place upon earth, which his Holiness
threatens them with in another world, and who are assisted by our
Catholic Cardinal with money, troops, ammunition, and all the
hell-invented implements of war,--though these Protestants, I say, put
no trust in the indulgences which their apostacy has rendered cheap in
the market, yet I am sure you are by far too staunch a stickler for all
antique abuses to doubt their efficacy. I suppose, therefore, when
salvation can be had for a hundred crowns, good Monsieur de Thou, you
can have no scruple on that score--unless indeed you are as stingy as
the dog in the fable."
"Jests are no arguments, Monsieur de Montressor," replied De Thou, with
stern gravity; "you have a bad habit, young Sir, of scoffing at what
wiser men revere. Had you any religion yourself of any kind, or any
reason for having none, we might pardon your error, because it was
founded on principle. As for myself, Sir, what I believe, I believe from
conviction, and what I do, I do with the firm persuasion that it is
right; without endeavouring to cloak a bad cause with a show of spirit,
or to hide my incapacity to defend it with stale jokes and profane
raillery. Gentlemen, you act as you please; for my part I enter into no
plan by which Spain is to be employed or treated with."
"I think it dangerous too," said the unsteady Duke of Orleans.
"Ten times more dangerous to attempt any thing without it," exclaimed
Fontrailles.--"Should we not be fools to engage in such an enterprise
without some foreign power to support us? We might as well go to the
Palais Cardinal, and offer our throats to Richelieu at once."
Montressor and St. Ibal both applied themselves to quiet the fears of
the Duke, and soon succeeded in removing from his mind any apprehensions
on the score of Spain: but he continued from time to time to look
suspiciously at De Thou, who had risen from the table, and was again
walking up and down the apartment. At length Gaston beckoned to Cinq
Mars, and whispered something in his ear.
"You do him wrong, my Lord," exclaimed Cinq Mars indignantly, "I will
answer for his faith. De Thou," he continued, "the Duke asks your
promise not to reveal what you have heard this night; and though I think
my friend ought not to be suspected, I will be obliged by your giving
it."
"Most assuredly," replied De Thou; "his Highness need be under no alarm.
On my honour, in life or in death, I will never betray what I have heard
here. But that I may hear as little as possible, I will take one of
these torches, and wait for you in the lower apartments."
"Take care that you do not meet with Père Le Rouge, Monsieur de Thou,"
exclaimed St. Ibal as De Thou left them.
"Cease your jesting, gentlemen," said Cinq Mars; "we have had too much
of it already. A man with the good conscience of my friend De Thou, need
not mind whom he meets. For my own part, I am resolved to go on with the
business I have undertaken; I believe I am in the right; and if not, God
forgive me, for my intentions are good."
The rest of the plan was soon settled after the President had left the
room; and the treaty which it was proposed to enter into with Spain was
read through and approved. The last question which occurred, was the
means of conveying a copy of this treaty to the Court of King Philip
without taking the circuitous route by the Low Countries. Numerous
difficulties presented themselves to every plan that was suggested, till
Fontrailles, with an affectation of great modesty, proposed to be the
bearer himself, if, as he said, they considered his abilities equal to
the task.
The offer was of course gladly accepted, as he well knew it would be:
and now being to the extent of his wish furnished with unlimited powers,
and possessed of a document which put the lives of all his associates in
his power, Fontrailles brought the conference to an end: it being agreed
that the parties should not meet again till after his return from Spain.
A few minutes more were spent in seeking cloaks and hats, and
extinguishing the torches; and then descending to the court-yard, they
mounted their horses, which had found shelter in the ruined stable of
the old castle, and set out on their various roads. By this time the
storm had cleared away, leaving the air but the purer and the more
serene; and the bright moon shining near her meridian, served to light
Cinq Mars and De Thou on the way towards Paris, while the Duke of
Orleans and his party bent their steps towards Bourbon, and Fontrailles
set off for Troyes to prepare for his journey to Spain.