BOOK II.--THE FLIGHT.

I. THE SECRET TREATY.

|At the ancient Château of Moulins, the abode of his illustrious

ancestors, the Constable de Bourbon dwelt in princely state, maintaining

a vast number of retainers, holding a court little inferior in splendour

to that of the king, and exercising all the privileges of a powerful

feudal suzerain. A grand and picturesque-looking structure was the

château, and from its proud position dominated the town, and the rich

vine-covered district around it. Not two leagues from Moulins was the

abbey of Souvigny, a venerable Gothic pile, which was to the Dukes of

Bourbon what Saint Denis was to the Kings of France--a mausoleum.

On his return from Fontainebleau to Moulins, Bourbon allowed no

indication to appear from his manner that he was disturbed by the

quarrel that had taken place between him and the king, though those

in his confidence knew that he meditated revenge, and was making

preparations for revolt.

Ere a week had elapsed, he received information through a trusty

messenger that the Comte de Beaurain, the ambassador of the Emperor,

and Sir John Russell, the envoy of Henry VIII., had arrived at Bourg, in

Bresse, where they proposed to await a communication from the Constable.

The moment had now arrived when it became necessary for Bourbon to

decide whether he would remain faithful to his sovereign, and bear

tamely all the injuries he had received, or cast off his allegiance

to François, and enter into a league with that monarch's enemies. The

Constable was not long in arriving at a determination to adopt the

latter course.

As it might excite the king's suspicions if he went to Bourg, and as

it would be equally dangerous if the ambassadors attempted to come

to Moulins, Bourbon appointed a meeting with them at Montbrison, the

capital of the Haut-Forez, the most mountainous and inaccessible portion

of his domains.

Under the pretext of a pilgrimage to Notre-Dame du Buy, he forthwith

set out for the Chateau de Montbrison, accompanied by a great number

of adherents on whose zeal and attachment he could rely, and who were

prepared to second his projects, and take up arms in his cause. Chief

among these were Saint-Vallier and René de Bretagne. Bourbon was also

attended by his confidant, Philibert de Saint-Romain, Seigneur de

Lurcy, the Seigneur de Pomperant, his two chamberlains, his two maîtres

d'hôtel, Antoine d'Espinat, lieutenant of his company of men-at-arms,

the Bishops of Puy and Autun, both of whom had warmly embraced his

cause, and a crowd of young seigneurs from the Bourbonnais, Auvergne,

Forez, and Beaujolais.

On the third night after his arrival at Montbrison, while he was

seated at supper with his retainers in the great banqueting-hall of the

château, two strangers, who described themselves as merchants of Lyons,

who were travelling to Clermont, claimed his hospitality.

The Constable at once gave them welcome, and assigned them seats at

the lower table. Their attire accorded with the account they gave of

themselves, but their bearing proclaimed them persons of rank, and

Bourbon easily detected in one of them, a handsome, dark-complexioned

man, with fine eyes and a very intelligent countenance, the Seigneur

de Beaurain; while, though he was wholly unacquainted with the other--a

well-made, but somewhat robust personage, with a bright fresh colour

and light-brown locks--he judged him to be Sir John Russell, and he was

right in the conjecture.

At the close of the meal, the Constable expressed a desire to converse

with his new guests, and requested them to follow him to his private

cabinet.

As soon as the door was closed, all disguise was thrown aside,

and Bourbon cordially welcomed Beaurain, and expressed the highest

satisfaction at beholding the English envoy.

“I regret that I could not receive you in a manner befitting your

rank, messeigneurs,” he said. “I do not think I have any spies amid my

household, but it is necessary to be cautious. And now be seated, I pray

you, and let us address ourselves to the matter in hand.”

“First, let me express the indignation which my royal master the Emperor

feels at the infamous treatment experienced by your highness from the

King of France,” said Beaurain--“treatment as injudicious as unworthy,

and which fully justifies any reprisals you may make.”

“I have also to convey to your highness the expression of similar

sentiments from my sovereign, King Henry VIII.,” added Sir John Russell.

“His majesty is highly indignant.”

“I have not merely my own private wrongs to redress, messeigneurs,”

replied Bourbon, “but those of my country, which is suffering from bad

government and oppression, and half ruined by a luxurious monarch, who

ravages the people to enrich his mistresses and favourites. François de

Valois is unworthy to occupy the throne of France.”

“He shall not occupy it long,” replied Beaurain, with a significant

smile. “But before proceeding further, let me offer my credentials to

your highness. Here is a letter from the Emperor,” he added, delivering

a despatch to the Constable.

Bourbon took it, broke the seal, and read as follows:

“Cousin,--I send you the Sieur de Beaurain, my second chamberlain.

Believe him as you would believe me, and doing so you will find me

always your good cousin and friend,

“Charles.”

“I am furnished by my august sovereign, King Henry VIII., with full

powers to treat with your highness, as this letter will prove,” said Sir

John Russell, likewise delivering a despatch to the Constable.

“Enough, messires,” observed Bourbon, after he had perused the second

despatch, which was couched in nearly similar terms to the first. “These

letters, though brief, are all I could desire.”

“It is scarcely necessary for me to observe to your highness,” said

Beaurain, “that the Emperor my master, and his Majesty the King of

England, are acting conjointly in this matter. As you are aware, they

have entered into a league offensive and defensive against France, and

in this league they propose to include your highness.”

“I am ready to engage in war against François I.,” remarked Bourbon;

“but, whatever may be the issue of the contest, I cannot consent to

recognise Henry VIII. as King of France.”

“Such recognition will not be required of your highness,” observed Sir

John Russell. “France will exist no longer. The realm will be divided

between the three allies. The north will fall to the share of my

royal master. The centre of the kingdom will be yours. The south will

appertain to the Emperor.”

“The partition can be discussed hereafter,” rejoined Beaurain. “The

kingdom must be conquered ere it can be divided. It is proposed that

the invasion shall take place in this manner. The Emperor will penetrate

France from Narbonne with eighteen thousand Spaniards, ten thousand

German lanz-knechts, two thousand men of arms, and four thousand lances.

Simultaneously with this attack, Henry VIII. will place fifteen thousand

archers and five hundred horsemen in Picardy, and this force will

be further augmented by six thousand men from the Low Countries. The

invasion will take place when François is occupied with the expedition

to Italy. Not till ten days after the kingdom has been attacked at

either extremity by Spain and England shall your highness raise the

standard of rebellion, for fear of misadventure. At the expiration of

that time you shall declare yourself. You will be aided by ten thousand

lanz-knechts, enrolled for you in Germany, who will enter France through

Bresse.”

“I approve the plan,” said Bourbon. “But by whom are the lanz-knechts to

be paid?”

“The Emperor and his Majesty King Henry VIII. engage to furnish your

highness with two hundred thousand crowns for their payment,” returned

Beaurain. “And the two monarchs further engage to sustain your highness

against all your enemies, and to conclude no truce or treaty in which

you are not comprehended.”

“I am content,” observed Bourbon.

“I trust your highness will be well satisfied with what I have further

to propose,” pursued Beaurain. “In order to prove the high esteem in

which he holds you, the Emperor has commissioned me to offer you in

marriage his sister, the widowed Queen of Portugal, with a dower of

two hundred thousand crowns, without counting her own rental of twenty

thousand crowns, besides jewels for five or six hundred thousand more.

Or, if your highness prefer the Emperor's younger sister, the Infanta

Catalina, you may have her, with a like dower. All his Imperial Majesty

requires in return is, that you shall unite yourself with him against

all other persons, without exception.”

“I choose the fair Queen of Portugal,” replied Bourbon; “and I will give

her as a dowry the Beaujolais, which produces twenty thousand crowns of

revenue. I take you both to witness,” he added, “that I now renounce

my fealty to François I. I cast off my allegiance to that false and

perfidious king, and transfer it to the Emperor Charles V.”

“We attest your highness's renunciation,” said both envoys, solemnly.

“And I accept your allegiance in the name of the Emperor,” added

Beaurain, with a look of satisfaction.

“Nothing now remains but to prepare the treaty,” said Bourbon to the

Imperial envoy.

Beaurain did not require a second order. Writing materials were on the

table beside him, and he rapidly performed his task. The document having

been approved by Bourbon and Sir John Russell, two copies were made of

it, and when all had been duly signed, as well by the Constable as by

the envoys, each retaining a copy, Beaurain observed, with a smile,

“Your highness is now pledged to us.”

“I am bound to revolt and vengeance,” replied Bourbon, “and my kingly

allies will aid me in my work. Hitherto, my device has been--_Spes_.

Henceforth,” he added, unsheathing his sword, and kissing the blade, “it

shall be--'_Omnis spes in ferro est_.'”

Perfectly satisfied, the envoys were about to withdraw, when Bourbon

detained them.

“Stay a moment, messeigneurs,” he said. “I must send a messenger to the

Emperor.”

With this he sat down and wrote a letter, and, having sealed it, he

summoned the Sieur de Bruzon, a gentleman entirely in his confidence,

and said to him:

“The Seigneur de Beaurain, whom I here present to you, comes as an

ambassador from the Emperor, to offer me the Queen of Portugal in

marriage. You will accompany him on his return, and will deliver this

letter into the hands of his Imperial Majesty, saying that I recommend

myself very humbly to his good grace, and thank him heartily for the

signal honour he has shown me in offering me his sister. Add, that he

will ever find me his good brother and friend. Say this to him.”

“I shall not fail,” replied Bruzon.

“Since our errand is completed, we will take leave of your highness,”

said Beaurain. “We shall start two hours before daybreak, and make the

best of our way back to Bourg. Immediately on my arrival there I will

despatch a courier to the Arch-Duke Ferdinand, enjoining him, in the

Emperor's name, to enrol the ten thousand lanz-knechts who are to be

placed under your highness's command. This done, I shall set out for

Genoa, and embark thence for Spain.”

“And I shall make my way as speedily as may be for England,” said Sir

John Russell.

“Commend me heartily to your royal master,” said the Constable, “and

remind him of what passed between us at the Field of the Cloth of Gold.

Farewell, messeigneurs! Heaven speed you on your journey! A guard shall

attend you over the mountains of Forez. See that men are in readiness,

Bruzon.”

“We thank your highness,” said Beaurain. “Heaven prosper the cause in

which you have embarked!”

The two envoys then quitted the cabinet, attended by Bruzon.

“Can I hope that Heaven will prosper the cause of treason and

rebellion?” exclaimed Bourbon, as soon as he was left alone. “But

reflection comes too late. The step is taken. I must on.”

At this moment the door opened, and the Comte de Saint-Vallier entered

the cabinet.

II. HOW SAINT-VALLIER REMONSTRATED WITH THE CONSTABLE.

|Do I disturb you?” said Saint-Vallier. “I would fain have a few words

with you in reference to those two merchants from Lyons, who have been

so long closeted with you. They are not what they pretend to be.”

“You are right, cousin,” replied the Constable. “I am glad you are come.

I desire to unbosom myself to you of a secret that weighs upon my soul.

You know that the affection I bear for you is as great as that which I

formerly entertained for my brother, François de Bourbon, Duke de

Châtelleraut, who fell by my side at Marignan. I can entirely confide in

you. But the secret I am about to disclose is of vast importance, and

concerns others besides myself. Swear, therefore, on this fragment of

the true cross,” he added, holding towards him a reliquary whieh hung by

a gold chain from his neek--“swear upon this, know that the affection I

bear for you is as great as that which I formerly entertained for my

brother, François de Bourbon, Duke de Châtelleraut, who fell by my side

at Marignan. I can entirely confide in you. But the secret I am about to

disclose is of vast importance, and concerns others besides myself.

Swear, therefore, on this fragment of the true cross,” he added, holding

towards him a reliquary whieh hung by a gold ehain from his neek--“swear

upon this that you will never reveal what I am about to impart.”

Saint-Vallier having taken the oath, the Constable proceeded to disclose

all that had taken place between him and the two envoys. Saint-Vallier

listened in silence, but his countenance showed he was deeply distressed

by the recital.

When Bourbon had ended, he said:

“Monseigneur, you have declared that you love me as the brother you

bewail. As that brother would have spoken, had he been living, I will

now speak to you. The Duke de Châtelleraut followed you in your glorious

career, but he would not have followed you in the career in which you

are about to embark. He would never have been a traitor and a rebel.”

“By Saint Paul! he would not have endured the wrongs I have endured, and

which have made me what I am,” rejoined the Constable.

“I grant you have had great wrongs,” rejoined Saint-Vallier; “but this

is not the way to avenge them. You are about to destroy yourself or your

country. Weigh well what I say. If the plot is discovered, your doom is

certain, and you will die with infamy. If the design succeeds, you will

aid the enemies of your country, to whom your name has been hitherto

redoubtable, and who seek you, not because they sympathise with your

wrongs, but because they believe you can serve them. But pause, I

implore you, before the fatal step be irrevocably taken. Pause

before you declare yourself a rebel. The king may deprive you of your

possessions, but he cannot deprive you of your renown, which ought to

be dearer to you than wealth and power. No one can rob you of your glory

but yourself. Would you incur the scorn and reproach of the haughty

nobles who have made you their model? Would you desert that youthful

chivalry who have striven to emulate your valour, and whom you have led

on to conquest? Would you turn your arms against those soldiers of whom

you have so long been the hero and the idol? Will not your breast be

torn with anguish and remorse as you listen to the cries of desolated

France, while she shrieks in your ears, 'Bourbon was the defender of his

country, and has become its scourge'?”

Bourbon was much moved at this appeal, and Saint-Vallier believed he had

made the desired impression upon him, as the Constable remained for

some time absorbed in thought. But he was mistaken, for Bourbon suddenly

exclaimed, “I cannot renounce my project. It is too late.”

“No, it is not too late,” rejoined Saint-Vallier. “The envoys have not

departed. Send for them. Reclaim the treaty.”

At this moment Bruzon entered the cabinet.

“Highness, a messenger has just arrived from the king,” he said. “It

is the Seigneur Perot de Warthy, and from what I gather he brings good

tidings.”

“He can scarce bring good tidings from the king; but I will see him,”

replied the Constable.

Following Bruzon to the door, Saint-Vallier said to him, in a low tone,

“Bid those two merchants from Lyons come hither. His highness desires

further speech with them.”

A few moments afterwards, the Seigneur Perot de Warthy, a

gallant-looking young cavalier, clad in a rich riding-dress, though

somewhat travel-stained, was ushered into the cabinet by Bruzon.

Close behind them followed the two envoys, whose reappearance excited

Bourbon's surprise, though he made no remark.

“What is your errand, Seigneur de Warthy?” demanded the Constable of the

messenger.

“I bring this despatch for your highness,” replied Warthy. “The king is

about to set out on the expedition to Italy----”

“And he has summoned me to attend him--ha?” interrupted Bourbon.

“No, prince,” replied Warthy. “His majesty has been pleased to appoint

you lieutenant-general of the kingdom, to regulate, in conjunction with

the Duchess d'Angoulême, all affairs of state during his absence.”

“Lieutenant-general of the kingdom!” exclaimed Bourbon, astonished.

“Has his majesty bestowed that appointment upon me? I expected a far

different message.”

“It is as I have stated to your highness,” said Warthy. “There you will

find the brevet.”

“The king relents towards you, cousin,” whispered Saint-Vallier. “He is

about to restore you to favour. All that has been done has been merely

to try you.”

“He has not abandoned the hope of reconciling me to the duchess,”

rejoined Bourbon, in the same tone. “This is her handiwork. Seigneur

Perot de Warthy,” he added, turning to him, “I must pray you accept

this ring,” taking one from his finger and presenting it to him. “I will

charge you with my thanks to the king to-morrow. Let all hospitality

be shown him,” he added to Bruzon, who bowed and withdrew with the

messenger.

“Now is the moment,” whispered Saint-Vallier. “The envoys are here.

Reclaim the treaty.”

“Has your highness anything further to say to us?” demanded Beaurain,

uneasily.

“No,” replied Bourbon, approaching him. “The king has tried to lure me

back in vain. I adhere to my resolution. Good night, messeigneurs.”

The two envoys bowed and retired.

“He is lost!” exclaimed Saint-Vallier.

III. SHOWING HOW THE PLOT PROGRESSED.

|Long before daylight, the two envoys, accompanied by Bruzon and a

guard, quitted the Château de Montbrison. On the same day, at a

later hour, Perot de Warthy set out on his return to the Palais des

Tournelles.

As soon as the king's messenger had departed, Bourbon held a private

council in his cabinet, at which were present the Bishops of Puy

and Autun, Aymard de Prie, Seigneur de Montpoupon, La Clayette, and

Saint-Sa-phorin, two brave and experienced captains, who had served

under him in the Milanese, and the Seigneur de Lurcy. Having bound them

to secresy, he acquainted them with the treaty he had entered into with

the Emperor and the King of England. None of his auditors attempted to

dissuade him from the design, but, on the contrary, all approved of it,

and agreed to lend their aid in its furtherance.

“It behoves your highness to exercise the utmost caution in making your

preparations,” said Saint-Saphorin.

“Perot de Warthy, who has just left, has been asking many questions

concerning your movements, and he appeared to have some suspicion of the

real character of the two pretended Lyons merchants.”

“Be assured I will act with all due caution,” said the Constable. “I

was on my guard with Warthy, as I believe him to be a spy. But it is

absolutely necessary to ascertain how many partisans I can count upon,

and how many men I can raise.”

“When so many have to be trusted, some rumours of the plot are sure to

reach the ears of the king,” observed the Bishop de Puy, “I would advise

your highness to wait till his majesty has set out for Italy. It will be

time enough to levy your troops when he has crossed the Alps, and cannot

return.”

“No, no; at all hazards I must prepare,” replied Bourbon, impatiently.

“You, my lord bishop, have professed your readiness to serve me. I shall

now put your zeal to the test, by charging you with a mission to my

uncle, the Duke de Savoie, urging him to declare himself in my favour as

soon as the rebellion shall occur, and to prepare for that event.”

“I will undertake the mission,” replied the bishop. “But it is not

devoid of danger. If I am taken, my sacred character will not protect me

from the king's vengeance.”

“You have nothing to fear,” said Bourbon. “No letters shall betray your

purpose. Tell the Duke de Savoie that I can count upon two thousand

gentlemen who have pledged themselves to stand by me in any event, and

to bring retainers with them. Tell him also that I can make sure of four

thousand fantassins in the Pays de Vaud and Faucigny. Am I not right,

captain?” he added, turning to Saint-Saphorin.

“I will answer for the men,” replied the other.

“And I will undertake to raise as many more in the Beaujolais and the

principality of Dombes,” said La “Clayette.

“I will undertake to hold Dijon,” said Aymard de Prie. “I am in command

of the garrison, and will introduce a thousand men into the city.”

“Your highness will have men enough, I doubt not,” said the Bishop

of Autun. “Half France will flock to your standard when it is once

displayed. But do not neglect precautionary measures in the interim. If

you should be betrayed, and fall into the king's hands, he will show you

no mercy.”

“I am fully aware of the risk I run, my lord bishop,” replied Bourbon;

“and, for fear of mishap, I will fortify my two strongholds of Chantelle

and Carlat, and furnish them with men and provisions, so as to secure a

safe retreat.”

“Has your highness any commission for me?” inquired the Seigneur de

Lurcy.

“Yes, an important one, which I know you will execute to my

satisfaction,” replied the Constable. “You shall despatch a messenger to

Jacques de Matignon and Jacques d'Argouges, two young Norman seigneurs,

who are attached to me, appointing a meeting with them at Vendôme. They

will attend the rendezvous, I doubt not, and you will then reveal the

plot to them, and engage them to facilitate the disembarkation of the

English, and the occupation of the province by the Duke of Suffolk.”

“Think you they can be trusted?” said Lurcy.

“Most assuredly,” replied Bourbon. “Tempt them with the offer of the

government of Normandy. With that inducement they will not hesitate.”

“Your highness's instructions shall be carefully fulfilled,” replied

Lurcy.

“Do you propose to remain here till the outbreak, prince?” inquired the

Bishop of Autun.

“No,” replied Bourbon. “I shall return forthwith to Moulins, and, in

order to avoid a summons to join the king, I shall feign illness, and

remain secluded till his majesty has set out for Italy.”

“You will do well,” observed the bishop. “Such a course will disarm

suspicion.”

Next morning it was reported throughout the château that the Constable

had been seized with fever. His physicians declared that the air of

Montbrison disagreed with him, and advised his return to Moulins, as

soon as he was able to bear the journey. Before complying with the

recommendation, Bourbon despatched a messenger to François, who was then

staying at the palace of the Tournelles, excusing himself on the plea

of severe indisposition from repairing to Paris.

Meantime, the Bishop de Puy set out on his mission to the Duke de

Savoie, Aymard de Prie proceeded with his troops to Dijon, and Lurcy

was on his way to keep the rendezvous he had appointed with Matignon and

D'Argouges at Vendôme.

Thus it will be seen that some little progress had been made in the

plot.

IV. THE COMTE DE MAULEVRIER.

|By the time the Constable had returned to the Château de Moulins,

François had completed his preparations for the war in Italy. Bonnivet,

at the head of a large force, had already crossed the Alps, and Lautrec

and Lescun had been sent to defend the frontiers from the Spaniards.

Having paid a visit to the cathedral of Saint Denis, for the purpose of

solemnly invoking the aid of the patron saint of France, and offered up

his devotions in the Sainte Chapelle; having also publicly appointed his

mother Regent of the kingdom during his absence, he set out with a large

attendance, comprising the flower of the French chivalry.

His march rather resembled a journey of pleasure than a warlike

expedition, inasmuch as he was accompanied by the Comtesse de

Chateaubriand and several other beautiful dames. The royal cortège

was preceded by the Grand-Master of France at the head of two thousand

lansquenets, and followed by the Duke de Longueville, with a large troop

of horse.

Proceeding by easy stages, François had reached Saint-Pierre-le-Moutier,

which was within half a day's journey of the Château de Moulins, and was

passing the evening festively, as was his wont, when he was disturbed

by the sudden arrival of Louis de Brézé, Comte de Maulévrier, grand

senesçhal and lieutenant-general of Normandy, whom we have already

mentioned as the husband of the beautiful Diane de Poitiers, daughter of

the Comte de Saint-Vallier.

François at once granted him the private interview he desired, and, as

soon as they were alone, Maulévrier said, “Sire, prepare yourself for

bad tidings. What I have to tell you I fear will arrest your expedition

to Italy. I come to warn your majesty of a most formidable conspiracy,

the object of which is to deprive you of your kingdom, and perhaps of

your life. Fortunately, the discovery has been made before the mine

could be sprung. Fortunately, also, for the purposes of justice, the

chief contriver of the plot is in your majesty's power.”

“There is only one person in the kingdom who could contrive such a

plot,” replied the king. “But I do not think the Constable de Bourbon

capable of a crime so heinous.”

“The Constable de Bourbon is guilty of the blackest treason, sire,”

replied Maulévrier. “He has allied himself to the Emperor and to the

King of England, and while an invasion is made upon your kingdom by

those two sovereigns, he designs to break out into revolt. This is no

idle accusation, sire. I will give proofs of the truth of what I assert.

Two young Norman seigneurs of high honour and distinction, Matignon

and D'Argouges, with whose names your majesty must be familiar, met

Bourbon's confidential agent, Lurcy, by appointment at Vendôme. At this

meeting Lurcy disclosed to them the whole conspiracy, and offered them

the government of Normandy and other high posts, on the condition that

they should assist the disembarkation of the English on our coasts. The

treasonable offer filled the two loyal gentlemen with horror, and they

indignantly rejected it, but, as they had been sworn to secresy, they

could not reveal it. However, they confessed the conspiracy to the

Bishop of Lisieux, who, appalled at its enormity, at once made it known

to me, and I have not lost a moment in warning your majesty of the

danger with which you and your loyal subjects are threatened. Heaven be

praised, you have hitherto escaped!”

Astounded by this terrible communication, to which he would willingly

have refused credit, the king remained for some time buried in

reflection. At length he said:

“Comte de Maulévrier, I charge you not to let fall a word in regard

to this conspiracy. I will give Bourbon a last chance. I will see him

to-morrow at the Chateau de Moulins.”

Maulévrier would have remonstrated, but perceiving that the king was

resolved, he said no more.

François, however, did not neglect needful precautions. Without

assigning any reason for the step, he immediately despatched an order

to the grand-master, who was a day in advance of the royal cavalcade,

enjoining him to return at once, and he directed the Duke de Longueville

to scour the country round with his cavalry.

Next day the king rode on to Moulins, where he found the grand-master

awaiting him with the two thousand lansquenets. With this force, and

with the troop of the Duke de Longueville, François felt no apprehension

of outbreak.

After ordering the town to be invested at all points, he entered the

château with a numerous guard, and demanded the keys, which were at

once delivered to him by Philippe des Escures, Bourbon's chamberlain.

François then dismounted, and said, in an angry tone, “Why is not the

Lord Constable here to welcome me? Bid him come to me at once.”

“Sire,” replied the chamberlain, “the Constable is full of grief that he

cannot receive your majesty in person. He is confined to his chamber by

severe illness, and cannot stir forth without imperilling his life.”

“Ha!” exclaimed the king, with an incredulous look. “I may be able to

find a more efficacious remedy for his illness than his physicians have

employed. Take me to his chamber.”

“Let me go with you, I pray you, sire?” said Maulévrier, who was

standing near the king.

François, however, declined, and entered the château. Conducted by the

chamberlain, whose looks proclaimed his alarm, he then proceeded to the

duke's chamber.

V. WHAT PASSED IN THE SICK MAN'S CHAMBER.

|The king was ushered into the sick man's chamber. It was large and

gloomy, wainscoted with oak as black as ebony, and the panels were

adorned with portraits of the Constable's illustrious ancestors,

commencing with Robert, Comte de Clermont, sixth son of Saint Louis,

and Beatrix de Bourgogne, daughter of John de Bourgogne, and heiress of

Bourbon-l'Archambaud, from whom the house of Bourbon derived its name,

and concluding with the father of the Constable, Gilbert de Montpensier,

slain at Pozzuoli in the war against Naples by Charles VIII., and

Clara de Gonzaga, the Constable's mother, a princess remarkable for her

beauty.

On a couch, at the farther end of this sombre apartment, lay the sick

man, wrapped in a loose gown of quilted silk, trimmed with sable. He had

a black taffeta cap on his head, and a furred velvet mantle was thrown

over his knees. Beside him, on a table placed within reach, stood a

crystal flagon containing a dark-coloured liquid, and several small

phials. The only person with him at the moment was his principal

physician, Jean de l'Hôpital.

On the entrance of the king, who was ceremoniously announced by the

chamberlain, Bourbon, aided by his physician, arose, and bowing, thanked

his majesty for his gracious visit.

“I am sorry to find you so unwell, cousin,” replied the king, regarding

him as closely as the gloom of the chamber would permit, and coming to

the conclusion that his illness was simulated.

Bourbon bore the scrutiny without embarrassment.

“The saints be praised that your majesty has come at a time when the fit

has just left me,” he said, “and when I am secure from the attack lor

a few hours. But I am greatly prostrated,” he added, feebly--“greatly

prostrated.”

The king bade him be seated, adding, that he desired to confer with him

in private, whereupon Bourbon signed to his attendants to withdraw.

Before quitting the chamber, Jean de l'Hôpital observed, in an undertone

to the king, “His highness has been dangerously ill, sire, and is not

yet out of danger.”

Then making an obeisance, he retired.

The chamberlain having placed a chair for the king near Bourbon's couch,

likewise bowed and withdrew.

After glancing round to make sure they were quite alone, François said,

“I will deal plainly with you, cousin. Some disclosures have been made

to me respecting your practices which I would willingly not believe, and

before taking any steps to ascertain the truth of the reports, I have

resolved to give you an opportunity of explanation.”

“My enemies have been at work, I perceive, sire,” said Bourbon, without

manifesting the slightest uneasiness. “What has been told your majesty?”

“I have been informed,” replied François, “that, forgetful of your

allegiance to me, you have entered into a treasonable league with my

enemies the Emperor and Henry VIII. This is what I have been told,

cousin, but, as I have said, I am unwilling to believe it.”

“Sire,” replied Bourbon, “you have not been misinformed. Overtures have

been made me by the Emperor and the King of England, who thought, not

unnaturally, that the treatment I have experienced from your majesty

must have deeply dissatisfied me.”

“They thought you were prepared to become a traitor,” cried François.

“Foi de gentilhomme! I scarcely expected you to make so frank an avowal.

They knew you to be ready to revolt--ha!”

“They knew I had endured wrongs enough to make me a rebel,” rejoined

Bourbon. “But they were mistaken, sire--they were mistaken.”

“Then you rejected the offers?” said the king.

“I still indulged hopes that your majesty would render me justice.”

“Justice you shall have, cousin--strict justice,” rejoined the king.

“Now listen to me. I suspect--nay, I am certain--that you are engaged

in a conspiracy against me, and against the state. The two young Norman

seigneurs, Matignon and D'Argouges, have disclosed the treasonable

proposition made to them on your part by Lurcy. You look confounded, as

well you may. You see I have ample proof of your guilt, but I can

obtain plenty more by arresting all your principal adherents who are now

assembled in this château. Not one of them can escape me.”

“Be not too sure of that, sire,” said Bourbon.

“You fancy you can protect them,” rejoined the king. “Learn that I am

master of your castle. Its courts are filled with my archers--its walls

are surrounded by my troops--its keys are in my possession. I have only

to give the word to cause your arrest.”

“Your majesty will never give that word,” rejoined Bourbon, calmly.

“Wherefore not?” cried François, striding towards the door, as if with

the design of putting his threat into execution. “What ho, there!--who

waits?”

But the door was shut, and no one answered the summons, though the king

repeated it still more lustily.

“What means this?” he cried, glancing furiously at Bourbon, who had

risen from his couch, and thrown off his loose robe, showing that he was

armed..

“It means, sire,” replied the Constable, “that the door will not be

opened save at my order. Your majesty may be assured,” he added, with

stern significance, “that those who enter this chamber will not arrest

_me_.”

“Ha, traitor! do you mean me mischief?” exclaimed the king.

“Your majesty has come hither alone. I did not invite you. But you are

perfectly safe, provided you pledge your royal word that no arrests

shall be made.”

François hesitated for a moment, and then returned his half-drawn sword

to the scabbard.

“Let us understand each other, Bourbon,” he said. “I had no design to

proceed to extremities with you. Had it been so, I should have ordered

your immediate arrest on my arrival at the château. My wish, as you must

have perceived, was to confer amicably with you. I do not desire your

destruction--on the contrary, I am well disposed towards you--ay, well

disposed. Abandon your fatal design--prove to me that you are faithful

and loyal as heretofore, and you shall find me forgiving and generous.

Be true to your sovereign, and we will be true to you. Whatever may

be the decree of the Parliament, you shall keep your possessions. The

utmost wish of your soaring ambition shall be gratified. You shall

accompany me to Italy, and shall share with me the command of the army.

Will this content you?”

“Sire, it is far more than I could expect,” replied Bourbon. “I thought

I had entirely forfeited your favour.”,

“Ingrate!--how could you think so, when I but lately appointed you

lieutenant-general of the kingdom? That appointment ought to have

convinced you that, in spite of our misunderstanding, I still had the

greatest regard for you. I know your merits as a leader, and am certain

you will add to your renown in this campaign. You shall help me to

re-conquer the Milanese, as you helped me at Marignan to win it.”

“I hope to convince your majesty that I am worthy of the distinguished

honour you propose to confer upon me,” said Bourbon.

“The appointment shall be announced at once, and will set at rest all

rumours to your disadvantage,” said François. “To-morrow you shall set

out with me for Lyons.”

“Alas! sire, I am utterly unable to travel in my present state. I could

not even enter a litter. My physicians will tell you so.”

“'Tis a strange disorder that afflicts you, cousin,” observed François,

with an incredulous look. “You appear strong enough for service in the

field.”

“You must not judge me by my looks, sire. When the fit seizes me, I am

utterly prostrated. But I shall be better in a few days.”

“You think so?” cried the king. “Well, then, I will wait for you at

Lyons.”

“I would not have your majesty delay the expedition on my account. As

soon as I am able to move, I will follow you to Italy.”

“No, no, I will not start without you,” rejoined the king, suspiciously.

“You shall join me at Lyons as speedily as you can.”

At this moment a side-door was opened, and a young dame, richly attired,

and of surpassing beauty, entered the chamber.

VI. DIANE DE POITIERS.

|On seeing the king, she would have instantly retreated, but he

commanded her to stay.

“Do not let my presence alarm you, fair lady,” he said. “And do not

suppose you interrupt me, for I have finished my conference with the

Lord Constable.”

The young dame, who seemed much embarrassed, made a profound obeisance,

but did not advance. As we have said, she was exquisitely beautiful. Her

features might have been modelled by Praxiteles, and her figure was tall

and admirably proportioned. She was attired in green velvet, embroidered

with flowers of damask, gold, and pearls, with the sleeves puffed and

quilted, and her head-dress, which was very becomingly fashioned, was

ornamented with pearls and other precious stones.

“I am trying to recal your features, fair lady,” said the king,

approaching her, and regarding her with undisguised admiration, “but

I do not think I can have seen you before. Such a lovely face as

yours--such lustrous eyes--and such a form--must have made a lasting

impression upon me. Yet you must have been at court.”

“No, sire, my father, the Comte de Saint-Vallier, never took me to

court,” she replied.

“How?” exclaimed François, surprised. “Are you the charming Diane de

Poitiers, who, by bestowing your hand upon the Comte de Maulévrier, have

made him the most enviable of mortals?”

“It is my misfortune, sire, to be the wife of the Comte de Maulévrier,”

she replied.

“Your misfortune! ha!” exclaimed the king. “Are you aware that your

husband is here?”

“Here, sire?” exclaimed Diane, uneasily.

“Nay, be not alarmed,” replied François, smiling. “He has not come for

the purpose of taking you back to the Château de Brézé. He brought me

some important intelligence from Normandy.”

“'Tis Maulévrier, then, who has revealed the plot,” mentally ejaculated

Bourbon.

“I should not return with him, if he desired it,” said Diane, “Your

majesty must understand that the comte and I have quarrelled.”

“Quarrelled! ah!” exclaimed François. “And so you took refuge from the

husband you hate with the Duke de Bourbon--eh?”

“I do not hate my husband, sire, though he has compelled me to leave

him. I came to the Château de Moulins with my father.”

“And you expected to find your father with the Constable when you

entered so suddenly just now, eh?” remarked the king, dryly.

“I did, sire. I came to inform them of your arrival at the

château--little expecting to find your majesty here. I trust I may infer

from your gracious and kindly aspect that the Constable is restored to

favour?”

“He is fully restored,” replied the king. “You will be pleased, I am

sure, to learn that I have just promised him the command of half my

Italian army.”

“You have done well, sire,” she rejoined. “With Bourbon in joint command

with your majesty, victory will be assured. You will accompany the

king?” she added to the Constable, with evident anxiety.

“I hope to do so,” he replied. “At all events, I will follow as soon as

my strength will permit me.”

“Nay, I must have you with me,” said the king.

“Right, sire--do not leave him behind,” she whispered.

“I know the way to enforce obedience on the Constable's part,” said the

king. “I shall take you with me to Lyons, fair Diane. He will follow

quickly then.”

“Sire!” exclaimed Bourbon, with ill-concealed vexation, “the countess is

here with her father!”

“What of that? I shall not ask his consent,” replied the king. “The only

person who has any right to object is Maulévrier, and he is not likely

to interfere. The Comtesse de Châteaubriand and a large party of court

dames are in my train,” he added to Diane. “You shall accompany them.”

He then continued in a low voice: “I cannot doubt the great influence

you possess over Bourbon. What you say to him he will obey. Charge him,

therefore, to join me a week hence at Lyons.”

And he moved towards the other side of the chamber, as if to examine the

portrait of the beautiful Clara de Gonzaga.

Diane instantly took advantage of the opportunity, and, approaching

Bourbon, said, in a low voice, “You have accepted the king's offer? You

will break with the Emperor and Henry VIII., will you not?”

“It is too late,” replied the Constable, in the same tone. “I have

signed the compact.”

“But consider that the king has promised to share the command of the

army with you?” she urged.

“Promises made by princes under such circumstances are rarely kept,”

replied Bourbon. “I can never be really restored to the king's favour.”

“You wrong him,” she said. “He is the soul of loyalty and honour.”

“He loyal!” echoed Bourbon. “He is perfidious as his mother. I will not

trust him.”

“That is your determination?”

“My fixed determination,” he rejoined.

“Then we shall never meet again--never, Charles,” she said.

Bourbon made no reply, and his head sank upon his breast. At this moment

the king turned round.

“Have you prevailed upon him, fair Diane?” he asked. “Yes, yes, he will

come, sire,” she answered, hastily. “You will?” she added to Bourbon,

with an entreating look that ought to have been irresistible.

“You have said it,” he rejoined.

“That is well,” observed the king. “I knew you could not resist her

persuasion.”

Just then the door opened, and Jean de l'Hôpital entered the room.

“I crave your majesty's pardon for this interruption,” he said, “but I

am compelled to attend to my illustrious patient. It is necessary that

his highness should take the draught prepared for him.”

“I applaud your zeal, sir,” replied François, “and I enjoin you to use

all your art to restore the prince your master to health as quickly as

may be. Think you he will be able to set out for Lyons in three days'

time?”

“I will not answer for it, sire,” replied Jean de l'Hôpital, consulting

Bourbon by a look.

“In a week, then?” demanded the king.

“Perchance in a week, sire,” replied the physician. “But he must travel

slowly, for even then he will be very feeble.”

“Come hither, sir,” said the king, taking Jean de l'Hôpital aside.

“Answer me truly, as you value your life. What ails the Constable?”

“His highness is labouring under a severe quotidian ague, caught at

Montbrison,” replied the physician. “The fever has proved of singular

obstinacy, and will not yield to ordinary remedies. We are under great

apprehensions,” he added, lowering his voice, “that it may be followed

by some mortal ailment, as consumption, or the black jaundice. His state

is exceedingly critical, and demands the utmost care. Were he to take

cold, I would not answer for his life.”

“Hark ye, sir,” said the king. “I know you _can_ speedily cure him, if

you will. Within a week I expect to see him at Lyons.”

“I cannot perform impossibilities, sire,” replied the physician; “but if

it be in the power of medical skill to further your majesty's desires,

you shall behold him at the time appointed.”

Apparently satisfied, François then turned towards the Constable, and

said:

“Adieu, cousin. I commend you to the care of your physician. But as I

shall naturally be anxious to hear how you progress, I will leave behind

me the Seigneur Perot de Warthy, who will send me daily tidings of you.”

“That is needless, sire,” said Bourbon, impatiently.

“Since you are pleased to express so much anxiety about me, I will

despatch frequent messengers to you with the reports of my physicians.”

“I prefer leaving Warthy,” rejoined the king. “I can depend on him. Once

more adieu, cousin. We shall meet again at Lyons.”

And, offering his hand to Diane, he led her out of the room.

VII. PEROT DE WARTHY.

|Scarcely were they gone, when Bourbon sprang to his feet, and gave vent

to an outburst of rage.

“By Heaven! I have had enough to do to play my part!” he exclaimed.

“I pray your highness to calm yourself!” cried Jean de l'Hopital. “His

majesty may return.”

“I wish he would return!” exclaimed Bourbon. “I was a fool to allow him

to depart. But I must take instant counsel with my friends.”

So saying, he thrice struck a small bell placed upon the table.

At the summons, a secret door opened, and a dozen young seigneurs, all

of whom were armed, issued from a closet where they had been concealed.

These persons were Bourbon's most devoted partisans, and comprised

the Seigneurs Pomperant, François du Peloux, Tansannes, Espinat,

Sainte-Bonnet, Desguières, Brion, and five others. “We have been

impatiently awaiting the signal to come forth,” said Pomperant. “But it

seems our services were not required. I am sorry your highness allowed

the king to depart.”

“You shall hear what has occurred, and judge whether I have acted

wisely,” rejoined Bourbon.

And he then proceeded to relate what had passed between him and the

monarch.

“I would not trust him!” exclaimed Tansannes. “His promises are

worthless. How say you, messeigneurs?” he added to the others. “Are you

not of my opinion?” There was a unanimous reply in the affirmative.

“It is not too late,” said Pomperant. “We may yet secure his person.

Entrust the matter to me. We have force enough to overpower the royal

guard.”

“The opportunity is tempting, I own,” said Bourbon. “But the plan is

too hazardous. It occurred to me while the king stood before me--but I

rejected it.”

“You did well, prince,” remarked Saint-Vallier, who had entered the

chamber by the same door that had admitted his daughter. “If you had

seized the king, your own doom would have been certain.”

“Who would have pronounced the sentence?” remarked Pomperant, sternly.

“I repeat, it is not too late to secure the king. Your highness has but

to say the word, and it shall be done.”

“Ay, we are ready to execute your highness's orders, be they what they

may,” added the others.

“Are you all mad?” exclaimed Saint-Vallier. “Know you not that the

archers of the royal guard are in the court of the château?--that the

Duke de Longueville has four troops of light horse drawn up outside the

gates?--that the town is invested by two thousand lansquenets, under the

command of the Grand-Master? Any such attempt must end in discomfiture.”

“We can carry off the king before his capture is discovered,” said

Pomperant.

“Impossible!” cried Saint-Vallier.

“You are lukewarm in the cause, cousin,” said Bourbon. “Perhaps you may

feel differently when I inform you that his majesty designs to take your

daughter, the Comtesse de Maulévrier, with him to Lyons.”

“Ha!” exclaimed Saint-Vallier, as if struck by a sharp pang. “Rather

than this should be, I would consent to his capture.”

“Who is mad now, M. le Comte?” remarked Pom-perant. “Will you entrust

the beautiful Diane to this profligate monarch?”

“No, I would sooner see her perish,” rejoined Saint-Vallier. “I will

agree to any plan.”

At this moment a warning exclamation was uttered by the physician who

was stationed near the door.

At the signal, Bourbon hastily resumed his gown, and flung himself upon

the couch.

Scarcely were these preparations completed, when Perot de Warthy and the

Comte de Maulévrier entered. They both glanced suspiciously at the band

of young seigneurs, who had withdrawn to the back of the chamber.

Saint-Vallier alone remained standing near the couch on which Bourbon

was extended.

“What is your business with me, sir?” demanded the Constable of Warthy.

“I am enjoined by his majesty to remain in constant attendance upon your

highness,” replied the other, bowing.

“This fellow troubles me,” muttered Bourbon; “I must get rid of him.”

“Louis,” said Saint-Vallier to his son-in-law, “I am glad you have come

hither. I was about to seek you. You must take back Diane to Normandy.”

“I cannot comply with your request,” replied Maulévrier. “I return to

the Château de Brézé forthwith.”

“So much the better,” cried Saint-Vallier. “Diane must accompany you.”

“Impossible,” replied Maulévrier. “She is gone with the Comtesse de

Chateaubriand and the king to Lyons.”

“Gone!” exclaimed Bourbon, starting up. “Has the king set out? I thought

he meant to pass the night here?”

“He has changed his mind, and has just quitted the château with his

suite.”

“And you have allowed Diane to accompany him?” demanded Saint-Vallier,

with a look of agony.

“Mort-Dieu! I could not prevent it,” replied Maulévrier--“even if I had

the wish,” he added to himself.

Saint-Vallier made no remark, but it was easy to perceive his anguish.

Greatly excited by the unlooked-for intelligence, Bourbon could

scarcely rest upon the couch.

“I cannot comprehend why the king should depart so suddenly,” he said to

Warthy. “Has he taken the troops with him?”

“No,” replied the other. “He is only attended by the archers of the

royal guard, and the young nobles forming his retinue. The Grand-Master

and the Duke de Longueville are left behind with their men.”

“For what purpose?” demanded Bourbon, sternly.

“To keep guard upon the château and the town,” replied Warthy.

Bourbon exchanged a glance with his followers, which did not pass

unobserved by Warthy.

“His majesty's parting order,” remarked that vigilant personage, “was

that no one--not even your highness--should be allowed to quit the

château till to-morrow.”

“Ha! By Saint Paul, it would seem we are prisoners, messeigneurs!”

exclaimed the Constable, fiercely.

An indignant response was made by his adherents.

“No offence is intended to your highness by his majesty,” said Warthy.

“It is a mere measure of precaution--nothing more.” Then, turning to

Saint-Vallier, he added: “M. le Comte, it is the king's pleasure that

you proceed to Lyons to-morrow.”

“I will go now!” cried Saint-Vallier.

“That may not be,” replied the other. “As I have just said, no one must

quit the château to-day, on any pretext whatever.”

“The keys of the château have been entrusted to me,” said Maulévrier,

“To-morrow I shall return them to the Seigneur des Ecures, your

highness's chamberlain. If you have aught to say to me,” he added to

Saint-Vallier, “you will find me in the great hall.”

So saying, he quitted the chamber.

“Why do you not go too, sir?” cried Bourbon, fiercely, to Warthy,

finding that the latter remained.

“His majesty's injunctions to me were----”

“Leave me,” interrupted Bourbon.

“I cannot disobey the king,” cried the pertinacious Warthy.

But his remonstrances were cut short by Pomperant and the others, who

forced him out of the room.

“Will no one deliver me from this plague?” exclaimed the Constable,

springing from his couch.

“We will,” replied several voices.

“Be advised by me, cousin, and do him no mischief, endure--but bear it.

By skilful management, aided by your physicians, you may lead this spy

to give such reports to the king as may cause him to set out for Italy

without you. Hitherto, as you know, I have strenuously opposed the plot,

but my opinion is now changed. I would have it succeed. Be prudent,

cousin, and our wrongs shall be avenged.”

“I will follow your counsel,” rejoined Bourbon. “But do you intend to

obey the king's order, and proceed to Lyons?”

“'Tis needful I should do so,” replied Saint-Vallier. “My first

business must be to deliver Diane. It is idle to hope for aid from her

base-souled husband; but I will talk to him. Be content to play the sick

man a little longer, cousin. It is of the last importance to your cause

that the king should set out for Italy without you.”

So saying, he left the room, and sought Maulévrier in the great hall.

But he produced no impression on his cold-hearted son-in-law.

VIII. HOW BOURBON QUITTED THE CHATEAU DE MOULINS,

|Next morning, Maulévrier delivered up the keys of the château to

the chamberlain, and, without seeking any further interview with the

Constable, set off for Normandy.

By noon both the Grand-Master and the Duke de Longueville had

quitted Moulins with their men, and were marching towards La Palisse.

Saint-Vallier accompanied them. Warthy, however, remained, and Bourbon

submitted to the annoyance of his frequent visits. If Jean de l'Hôpital

could be believed, no improvement had taken place in the Constable's

health.

Three days passed in this manner, but, on the morning of the fourth,

Warthy made his appearance in a riding-dress, booted and spurred,

and informed the Constable, who was lying on his couch as usual, and

attended by his physicians, that he was about to set out for Lyons to

make a report in person to the king.

“Express my profound regrets to his majesty that I am not able to join

him,” said Bourbon, secretly overjoyed by the anticipated departure of

his tormentor, “As you yourself must have perceived, I am rather

worse than better, and my physicians tell me--and indeed I myself

perceive--that there is no prospect of immediate improvement, I would

pray the king, therefore, not to wait for me longer, but to set out on

his expedition.”

“I will convey your highness's message,” replied Warthy. “But I know the

king will be grievously disappointed.”

“My own disappointment is greater than his majesty's can be, sir. I pray

you assure him so,” rejoined Bourbon.

A slightly incredulous smile passed over Warthy's shrewd features at

this observation. However, he made no remark, but, taking leave of the

Constable, set out on his journey, mounted on a fleet steed, which soon

carried him several leagues on his way.

No sooner was Bourbon freed from the restraint imposed upon him by the

importunate spy, than he commenced preparations, and despatched a

body of men with arms and ammunition, under the command of Captain

Saint-Saphorin, to his château of Chantelle, instructing them to put

that fortress at once into a state of complete defence.

“I shall be there myself in a few days,” he said to Saint-Saphorin.

“Moulins, I find, is quite untenable.”

This state of repose was not of long continuance. Warthy, who had

been provided with relays of the fleetest horses, was back again in

an incredibly short time, and Bourbon, to his infinite annoyance, was

obliged to resume his couch. He received the spy in a very ill humour,

but Warthy did not appear to heed his displeasure.

“Highness,” he said, “the king is much offended. He will not believe you

are so ill as you represent. And he commands you, on your allegiance, to

join him without delay.”

“That is wholly impossible, sir,” interposed Jean de l'Hôpital. “The

Lord Constable is far too ill to travel. I fear you have not explained

fully his dangerous condition to the king.”

“I have reported all I have seen,” replied Warthy. “But his majesty will

take no more excuses.”

“Excuses, sir!” cried Bourbon, fiercely. “Dare you insinuate----”

“I but repeat the king's message to your highness,” replied Warthy. “His

majesty, as I have said, is highly offended, and declares he will no

longer be trifled with. He peremptorily orders you to join him at Lyons

without delay. If you fail to do so----” And he hesitated to proceed.

“Well, sir--what if I fail?” demanded Bourbon, slightly raising

himself, and fixing a stern glance on the messenger, “His majesty will

send the Grand-Master and Marshal de Chabannes with three thousand

lansquenets to fetch you,” rejoined Warthy.

“Mort-Dieu! am I to be told this?” cried Bourbon.

And he would have sprung from the couch, if the two physicians had not

thrown themselves upon him, and held him forcibly down.

“You will betray yourself if you give way thus,” whispered Jean do

l'Hôpital. “I pray your highness to be calm.”

Yielding to the advice, the Constable controlled himself by a great

effort.

There was a pause, during which the spy remained intently watching the

Constable.

“What answer shall I return to his majesty?” asked Warthy, at length.

“Say I will come,” replied Bourbon.

“Highness, it is not possible that you can travel,” said Jean de

l'Hôpital. “His majesty cannot desire your death.”

“It would seem as though he did,” rejoined Bourbon. “But, be the

consequences what they may, I will set out to-morrow. Tell his majesty

so,” he added to Warthy. “When do you return to Lyons?”

“Within an hour,” was the reply. “I am charged to come back instantly,

and, as I have relays of horses, I shall not be long on the road. His

majesty will be well content with your highness's determination.”

And, with a profound bow, he quitted the room.

“May the devil go with him!” exclaimed Bourbon, as he sprang from his

couch. “If I detain this spy,” he thought, “the king will execute his

threat, and send the Grand-Master and Chabannes to take me. Here, in

this château, I can offer no resistance, but in Chantelle I may stand

a siege, and hold up till I can obtain reinforcements. I must proceed

thither without delay.”

As soon as Warthy had departed, a conference was held between Bourbon

and his followers, in which it was agreed on all hands that it would

not be safe to remain longer at Moulins, and it was therefore decided

to remove to Chantelle, a fortress in Auvergne, which the Constable

considered impregnable. This decision being arrived at, preparations for

departure were made with all possible despatch.

Determining to take with him all his treasure and valuables, Bourbon

emptied his coffers, and caused their contents, amounting to more

than thirty thousand golden crowns of the sun, to be sewn up in stout

leathern bags. In like manner his jewels and other valuables were

removed from their caskets, and packed up in valises. Could he have done

so, he would have carried off his silver drinking-vessels and plate

as well. These preparations made, the majority of the conspirators,

escorted by a troop of three hundred men-at-arms, fully equipped,

quitted the chateau at nightfall, and proceeded towards Auvergne. The

bags containing the gold pieces were entrusted to veteran soldiers. The

young seigneurs took charge of the jewels.

Bourbon's object being to gain time, he did not accompany the troop, but

tarried till the following morning, when, pretending that he was about

to join the king at Lyons, he entered his litter, and attended by his

physicians, and by a small escort commanded by Pomperant, proceeded

along the beautiful valley of the Allier towards La Palisse, where he

rested for the night.

Next day he continued his journey across a hilly tract of country to a

small town, all the time keeping close within his litter. On the third

day he reached Changy, and here his physicians gave out that the journey

had seriously aggravated his malady, and that it was utterly impossible

for him to proceed farther at present. Bourbon's design was to wait at

Changy till he could obtain intelligence of the king's movements from

secret agents whom he had despatched for the purpose to Lyons.

Before these messengers could return, Warthy made his appearance at

Changy, and, being informed of the Constable's increased illness, to

which he attached little credence, sought an interview with him, This

was granted without difficulty, and the spy found the duke in bed, with

his physicians in attendance upon him.

“You see, sir,” he remarked to Warthy, “I have made every effort to

comply with his majesty's commands, but my strength has entirely failed

me. However, I feel somewhat better to-day, and to-morrow I hope to

reach Roanne. I pray you return to the king, and tell him how you have

found me.”

“My orders are not to quit your highness,” rejoined Warthy; “and if I

return without you, I am persuaded his majesty will put his threats into

execution, and order your immediate arrest.”

“His majesty will act as he deems best. I must decline further discourse

with you,” said Bourbon, turning from him.

Warthy felt almost certain he was duped by the Constable and his

physicians, but as some doubts still lingered in his mind, he determined

to return to Lyons, where he arrived early next morning. From the

report given him by the spy, François felt convinced of the Constable's

duplicity.

“He is playing me false,” he said. “But I will baffle his schemes.

Return to him at once, and do not leave him again. If any further

difficulties arise, despatch messengers to me, and I will send the

Grand-Marshal and the Marshal de Chabannes to seize him.”

IX. CHANTELLE.

|The indefatigable Warthy departed on his mission. On arriving at Changy

his worst suspicions were verified. The sick man and his attendants were

no longer there. But instead of pursuing his route towards Lyons, as he

had promised, the Constable had turned back towards Moulins.

Despatching a messenger to the king with this information, Warthy

rode on to La Palisse, and thence to Varennes, where, it appeared, the

Constable had laid aside all disguise, and, abandoning his litter, had

mounted a charger, and ridden off with his suite to the Château de

la Chantelle, in Auvergne. Disregarding the risk he might incur in

following him, Warthy despatched a second messenger to the king, and

started in pursuit. He was only a few hours behind the Constable,

and being well mounted, hoped to overtake him before he arrived at

Chantelle.

Speeding across the wide plain of the Allier, skirted on the east by the

mountains of Forez, he soon reached the small town of Saint-Pourçain,

where he obtained a fresh horse, and ascertained, at the same time,

that the Constable and his attendants were only two or three leagues in

advance of him. From Saint-Pourçain he entered the vale of the Sioule,

and, pursuing his course by the side of the river, soon found himself

among the mountains of Auvergne.

The region he had now gained was highly picturesque, but Warthy noted

little of its beauties, being engrossed by the thought of the dangerous

errand on which he was bent. But, though fully aware of the risk he

incurred, Warthy did not shrink from it.

After tracking the sinuous course of the river through the mountains,

whose funnel-shaped cones and rifted sides proclaimed them to be

extinct volcanoes, and remarking several ancient strongholds, perched on

commanding points, he emerged into a broad plain watered by the Sioule,

whose course he had hitherto followed. He now plainly descried the

lordly château of Chantelle, about two leagues off situated on a rocky

eminence, the base of which was washed by the river. It was a vast and

strongly-built fortress, and from its position seemed well capable of

standing a siege.

As Warthy's eye ranged over the intervening district he caught sight

of a troop of horsemen, whose arms were glittering in the sunbeams, and

entertaining no doubt that the cavalcade consisted of Bourbon and his

attendants, he set spurs to his charger and galloped on. But swiftly

as he speeded, to overtake the Constable was now impossible, and he was

still half a league off, when he beheld the train pass through the outer

gates of the castle.

As he approached yet nearer to the fortress, he plainly perceived that

it had been put into a state of defence, the ramparts and bastions being

armed with ordnance of large size, and the towers with culverins and

falconets. Sentinels were pacing to and fro on the battlements, and a

guard was stationed on the outer gate. From the summit of the donjon

floated Bourbon's haughty standard, which had been unfurled immediately

after his arrival. The din of martial instruments resounded from the

outer court of the castle, and when Warthy, after some little delay,

obtained admittance, he found the enclosure full of armed men.

Bourbon had not thrown off his riding-cloak, and was Conversing with

Tansannes, Saint-Saphorin, and others, in a great hall with a roof

supported by rafters of chesnut, and walls adorned with trophies of

the chase--huge antlers, skins of bears, wolves, foxes, wild cats, and

marmots, with which the adjacent mountains abounded---when the arrival

of the king's messenger was announced.

The Constable ordered him to be at once admitted, and on his appearance,

said to him, in a jocular tone, “What! here already, Messire de Warthy!

You spur me hard, my friend.”

“Your highness must have better spurs than mine, since you have got here

first,” replied Warthy, in the same tone. “I am glad to find you can

ride so well. You can now have no reasonable excuse for disobeying the

king's injunctions. I hope you will accompany me to Lyons.”

“A truce to this, sir!” cried Bourbon, changing his manner. “I have come

hither to be free from the persecution to which I have been subjected.

Unless I have the king's written promise to restore me my possessions, I

will not stir from this castle. If he refuses my just demand, there will

be a war in France more dreadful than any the kingdom has yet endured.”

“I grieve to hear your highness threaten rebellion, for I can only so

construe your words,” replied Warthy, courageously. “It is not for me to

predict what his majesty's reply will be to your demand, but I fancy it

will be conveyed by the Grand-Master and the Marshal de Chabannes, at

the head of an overwhelming force.”

“I am of opinion that the king will return a very different answer,

sir,” said Bourbon. “He knows he has treated me unjustly, and when he

finds I am in a position to obtain redress, he will offer it. But be his

decision what it may, I am prepared.”

“I would fain remonstrate with your highness before you take this

terrible step,” said Warthy. “Powerful as you are, you cannot resist the

king.”

“That remains to be seen, sir. I am resolved to have justice, which has

been so long denied me.”

“Then at the hazard of my life I must perform mv duty,” rejoined Warthy,

boldly. “I now proclaim to all your followers that if they shall aid you

in holding this castle against their sovereign lord and king, to whom,

and not to you, they owe fealty and homage, they will be guilty of

lèse-majesté, and will be treated as rebels and traitors.”

“Will your highness allow this insolent fellow to brave you thus?” cried

Pomperant, furiously. “Order his instant execution.”

Warthy did not blench, though he felt he was in a most critical

position.

“Remember, I am sent hither by the king,” he said.

“The king cannot save you!” cried Tansannes.

“No, but he can avenge me,” replied Warthy, resolutely.

“The audacious spy deserves a dog's death,” cried François du Peloux.

“Let him be hanged at once.”

“Or flung from the battlements,” said Saint-Saphorin.

“No,” said Bourbon; “he has given his tongue unwarrantable license, but

he has come hither as the king's messenger, and his person is safe. You

must be content to remain here till to-morrow, Messire de Warthy, when

you will take a letter from me to the king. The Bishop of Autun, who is

here, shall accompany you, in order that he may explain my conduct to

his majesty.”

“I must perforce remain as long as your highness chooses,” replied

Warthy.

“You ought to thank me for detaining you,” said Bourbon. “You must want

rest after your journey. See that all care be taken of him,” he added to

an attendant.

Upon this Warthy withdrew.

After inspecting the garrison, Bourbon proceeded to examine the defences

of the fortress, to make sure of its capability of resisting a siege.

The examination was very carefully conducted, and occupied several

hours. At its conclusion, he held a private conference with all his

chief adherents, at which it was unanimously agreed that the place was

not strong enough to hold out against the powerful army which would

infallibly be sent to besiege t by the king.

“If it should fall before I can be reinforced, my cause will be ruined,”

said Bourbon; “and the German lanz-knechts enrolled by the Archduke

Ferdinand, though already assembled in the Franche-Comté, will not dare

to enter France while the king remains at Lyons. For my own part,” he

continued, “I am satisfied that his majesty is too much alarmed to quit

the kingdom at present, and if he should decide on crossing the Alps,

he will assuredly leave behind him an army of six or seven thousand men.

The presence of such a force will prevent the contemplated rising, and

the nobles of Auvergne, whom I had summoned by the arrière-ban to unite

at Roanne, will disperse without striking a blow. What is to be done

under these circumstances? Shall we retire to Carlat? Though more

inaccessible, that castle is no better able to stand a siege than the

fortress we now occupy.”

“To be shut up amid the mountains might be fatal,” remarked Tansannes.

“Let us make the best of our way to the Franche-Comté, where your

highness can put yourself at the head of the German lanz-knechts.”

“The lanz-knechts are already commanded by two able leaders, the Counts

Wilhelm and Felix de Furstenberg,” replied Bourbon. “I will not become

a fugitive from my own territories while there is a chance of holding

them. A few days will now decide. My letter, which will be conveyed to

the king by Warthy, will bring the matter to a crisis. If, as I fear,

his majesty should abandon his expedition to Italy, nothing will be left

for us but flight.”

Next day, Warthy left the castle, accompanied by the Bishop of Autun. On

the farther side of La Palisse they encountered the Marshal de Chabannes

and the Grand Master, who were marching at the head of a large force,

consisting of light horsemen and fantassins, to seize the Constable. On

discovering this force, the bishop contrived to send off a messenger to

warn Bourbon.

The bishop himself was arrested, and sent on to Lyons with a guard,

under the charge of Warthy.

X. HOW THE BISHOP OF AUTUN AND THE COMTE DE SAINT-VALLIER WERE

ARRESTED.

|On a plain, outside the fair city of Lyons, was encamped the army

destined for the expedition to Italy. In the midst of the camp stood the

royal tent. Thither the Bishop of Autun was taken by Warthy. François

had just returned from inspecting his troops. His towering figure was

sheathed in glittering steel, but he had taken off his plumed helm and

given it to a page, at the moment when the bishop was brought in.

After glancing at the Constable's letter, which was delivered to him

by Warthy, François tore it in pieces, exclaiming furiously, “Does the

audacious traitor venture to treat me as an equal, and propose terms to

me! Foi de gentilhomme! I will lower his pride. Hitherto I have acted

too leniently towards him, but now he shall feel my power. I have

striven to save him, but since he is insensible to my kindness, and will

rush upon his ruin, e'en let him perish!”

“Your majesty forgets that you have driven the Constable to

desperation,” said the Bishop of Autun. “Could he have placed faith in

your promises, he would be with you now. I implore your majesty to make

terms with him, and, by so doing, avoid a most disastrous war.”

“My lord bishop,” said the king, sternly, “I will not hear a word in the

traitor's behalf. He can expect no grace from me, and, by Saint Louis!

he shall have none. He thinks himself safe in Chantelle, but I will take

it in a week; and if he seeks refuge in the mountains of Auvergne, I

will hunt him down like a wild beast. I will proclaim him as a rebel

and traitor throughout the realm, and set a price of ten thousand golden

crowns upon his head. All who shall harbour him, or assist him or any of

His followers, shall be held guilty of treason. And now, my lord bishop,

a word with you. You are concerned in this conspiracy, and, if you would

obtain grace and restoration to my favour, you will not hesitate to

reveal all you know respecting it.”

“I have nothing to reveal, sire,” replied the bishop.

“You are the depositary of the Constable's secrets, my lord,” remarked

François, sternly.

“Whatever his highness may have confided to me under the seal of

confession, is sacred, sire,” rejoined the bishop.

“That excuse will not avail you, my lord. You are bound to disclose a

conspiracy against your sovereign. By Saint Louis! I _will_ have

the truth. All those who are in any way implicated in the plot, or

suspected, shall be immediately arrested. One of the chief conspirators

is already in my power. I will interrogate him at once. Bring the Comte

de Saint-Vallier before me,” he added to Warthy. “You will find him in

the adjoining tent, with his daughter, the Comtesse de Maulévrier.”

“Am I to arrest him, sire?” demanded Warthy.

The king replied in the affirmative, and Warthy departed on his

errand, returning presently with Saint-Vallier, who was guarded by two

halberdiers.

Just as François was about to interrogate the prisoner, Diane de

Poitiers rushed into the tent, and threw herself at the king's feet,

exclaiming:

“My father has been unjustly accused, sire. He is no traitor.”

“I trust he may be able to clear himself, madame,” rejoined the king,

raising her gently. “But as it will be painful to you to listen to his

examination, I must pray you to retire.”

“You have disobeyed my injunctions in coming hither, Diane,” said

Saint-Vallier, reproachfully. “Your presence adds to my trouble. Go, I

implore you!”

“No, no, I will not leave you,” she rejoined. “I may be able to plead

your cause. I can show his majesty that he has not a more loyal subject

than yourself--that you are incapable of the crime with which you are

charged--and that if there should be a conspiracy headed by the Duke de

Bourbon, which I cannot--will not--believe, you have no part in it.”

“Can the Comte dc Saint-Vallier himself give me such assurance, madame?”

said the king.

“Undoubtedly, sire,” replied Diane. “Speak, father! You have no share in

any plot?”

“I know of no plot,” rejoined Saint-Vallier. “But I am well aware that

I have many enemies, who would not hesitate to accuse me falsely. Who

charges me with conspiracy against your majesty?” he added to the king.

“I do,” replied Warthy. “I charge you with leaguing with the king's

enemies, and I will bring proof of what I assert.”

“I defy you to do so,” replied Saint-Vallier; “and if the combat be

permitted me by his majesty, I will force you, at the point of the

sword, to confess that you have accused me falsely.”

“You must establish your innocence by other means than the combat,”

rejoined the king. “You have long been Bourbon's confidential friend and

adviser. You have been staying with him at the Château de Moulins. Is it

not certain, then, that you must be privy to his designs?”

“Presumption is no proof, sire,” said Saint-Vallier. “If the Constable

de Bourbon has any such designs as your majesty attributes to him, he

has carefully concealed them from me.”

“You abuse my patience by these idle prevarications,” cried the king,

angrily. “By an immediate avowal of your guilt, and by a disclosure

of all you know respecting this conspiracy, you might merit my

forgiveness.”

“And think you, sire, that if I were leagued in such a plot, I would

purchase safety by betraying my associates?” rejoined Saint-Vallier.

“No, I would rather perish on the scaffold.”

“Such will be your fate,” said the king, sternly. “But torture shall

extort the truth from you.”

“Oh! sire,” exclaimed Diane, again flinging herself at the king's

feet, “do not have recourse to such terrible measures. Spare him the

torture!--spare him!”

“Let him confess his guilt, then--let him reveal all he knows regarding

the plot,” rejoined François.

“Torture will not force me to speak,” said Saint-Val-lier, resolutely.

“I should be unworthy of the name I bear if I could betray iny friends.

Cease to intercede for me, Diane,” he added to his daughter.

“Remove the prisoners,” said François to Warthy, “and let them be taken

with a strong escort to Paris, and lodged in the Conciergerie, there

to be kept till commissioners shall be appointed for their trial by the

Parliament.”

“Sire,” said Diane, “I crave your majesty's permission to attend my

unhappy father to Paris. My presence will be some consolation to him.”

“I cannot grant your request, madame,” replied the king, in

an inflexible tone. “You must remain here with the Comtesse de

Châteaubriand, Take leave of your father, and let him depart.”

Half distracted, Diane flung herself in her father's arms. While

straining her to his breast, Saint-Vallier said, in a low voice:

“Stay not here. Depart instantly for Normandy. Promise me this, and I

shall die content.”

“You shall not die, father,” she cried. “I will obtain your pardon. I

will not cease to supplicate the king till he yields.”

“I forbid it,” rejoined Saint-Vallier, authoritatively. “Obey me, as you

would know peace hereafter.”

Diane made no reply. Overcome by her emotion, she had swooned in his

arms.

Female attendants were instantly summoned from the adjoining tent, which

was appropriated to the Comtesse de Chateaubriand and her ladies, and

Saint-Vallier having committed his daughter to the charge of these

women, quitted the tent with the Bishop of Autun and Warthy.

The king's injunctions were promptly carried into effect. While the two

prisoners were despatched with a guard strong enough to prevent, any

attempt at rescue, to Paris, and lodged in the Conciergerie, there to

await, their trial, officers were sent forth to all the principal towns

in the Lyonnois, the Borbonnois, Auvergne, Bourgogne, and Dauphiné, to

proclaim by sound of trumpet the Constable de Bourbon a rebel and a

traitor, and to offer in the king's name a reward of ten thousand golden

crowns of the sun for his capture. Orders were at the same time issued

that all the southern frontiers of the kingdom should be strictly

guarded, so as to prevent his flight.

By such means the alarm was spread far and wide with inconceivable

rapidity, and it seemed scarcely possible that Bourbon could escape.

Meanwhile, the Grand-Master and the Marshal de Chabannes had marched,

without opposition, to Chantelle. There was no necessity to summon the

fortress to surrender. The gates were thrown open by Saint-Sa-phorin,

who was left in command, on the approach of the assailants. But the

Constable and his chief adherents were gone, and, as far as could be

ascertained, had taken refuge amid the mountains of Auvergne. The two

leaders, therefore, having compelled the garrison to lay down their

arms, arrested Saint-Saphorin, took possession of the fortress in the

king's name, and despatched several bodies of men in pursuit of the

fugitives.

Warthy was also on Bourbon's track, having sworn to effect his capture.

XI. MARCELLINE D'HERMENT.

|Late at night, the messenger despatched by the Bishop of Autun to warn

Bourbon of his danger, reached Chantelle, and before dawn the Constable

had quitted the fortress, attended by his principal adherents. His

escort comprised a hundred well-armed men, to twelve of whom were

entrusted the leathern bags containing the treasure.

After traversing a long mountainous defile, remarkable for its grand and

savage scenery, he reached Montaigut, where he dismounted, and entering

the church, performed Lis devotions, and besought Heaven's aid in his

difficulties.

Leaving Montaigut, he soon became involved in a range of volcanic

mountains, and after a long ride through this extraordinary region, he

came to the Château Lafayette--an old feudal stronghold, built on a vast

lava current, which had issued in bygone ages from the crater of the Puy

de Come.

Riding up to its gates, he was heartily welcomed by the châtelain, who

hospitably entertained him and his train, cheering them with a liberal

supply of the generous wine for which the district is renowned.

Lafayette would fain have persuaded Bourbon to tarry with him, but the

Constable declined, alleging that he intended to pass the night at the

Château d'Herment.

Again the fugitive's way led him through mountainous defiles, and night

overtook him long before he reached his destination. Harbingers had been

sent on to announce his approach, and as he and his followers climbed

the steep and dangerous ascent to the fortress, a number of men,

carrying blazing pine-wood torches, issued from the gates, and lighted

them on their way. At their head was the young châtelain, who greeted

Bourbon with profound respect, and placed his castle and all within it

at his disposal.

The Seigneur d'Herment was a young man of some two or

three-and-twenty--tall, powerfully built, and handsome. He was habited

in a green hunting-dress and buff boots, and wore a broad-leaved grey

felt hat, ornamented with a white feather, on his head. With him were

two large shaggy hounds, which had pulled down many a lordly stag, torn

in pieces many a wolf, had engaged more than one bear, and would not

have hesitated to attack any other wild animal.

D'Herment dwelt in his lonely castle with his sister Marcelline, whose

beauty and courage were the theme of admiration throughout that wild

district. Marcelline was nearly five years younger than her brother,

whom she strikingly resembled in feature, and even in character. Though

her pursuits were masculine, and though her time was passed among horses

and hounds, though she could manage a hawk better than her own falconer,

though she could tire out the most energetic horseman, though she

never missed the mark with arbalest or petronel, there was nothing in

Marcelline's manner unbecoming the gentlest damsel. Her features, it

is true, had a resolute expression, not often met with in a maiden of

eighteen, her mouth and chin being proudly cut, and her fine nostrils

often distended like those of a deer. Her complexion was embrowned by

the sun, her eyes large, bright, and blue, and her luxuriant tresses of

a lovely auburn. Her attire, though savouring little of court fashion,

and boasting few ornaments, became her well, and displayed her tall and

symmetrical figure to the greatest advantage. Her black velvet toque was

adorned with the plume of an eagle which she herself had shot.

Such was the damsel who greeted Bourbon and his companions as they

entered the great hall of the castle. Her remarkable beauty could not

fail to strike the young nobles who were now presented to her by her

brother, but she seemed insensible to the admiration she excited,

and entirely occupied in attending to the Duke de Bourbon, whom she

conducted to the upper table. She made no apology for the repast which

was set before the Constable and his followers, and, indeed, it needed

none, for though the viands were homely they were abundant, and the

appetites of the guests, sharpened by their long ride, enabled them

to do ample justice to the substantial dishes with which the board was

loaded. Moreover, the wine was excellent, and plentifully supplied.

At the close of the repast Marcelline arose, and as the Constable

led her forth he thanked her for her hospitality, and bade her adieu,

stating that he should depart long before daylight.

In consideration of the fatigue they had undergone, and the

extraordinarily early hour at which it had been arranged that they were

to depart, most of the Con stable's attendants now retired to rest; but,

before seeking his chamber, Bourbon had an hour's private conference

with D'Herment, at which Pomperant and Tansannes were present.

Just as the castle clock struck two, torches flashed in the great court,

and showed the enclosure filled with horsemen. Shortly afterwards the

chief part of the Constable's adherents made their appearance, and

mounted their steeds. Ere many more minutes, Bourbon, attended by the

châtelain, descended into the court, muffled in a heavy riding-cloak,

doubtless to protect him from the fresh morning air. After taking leave

of D'Herment, and casting a hasty glance around to ascertain that the

men to whom the bags of treasure had been confided were there, he rode

out of the gateway, followed by his train.

On gaining the valley he struck spurs into his steed, and the whole

troop proceeded at a quick pace in the direction of the Château de

Carlat, whither they were bound. Thus they passed on through a wild

district, the volcanic mountains looking singularly fantastic in the

gloom. Bourbon rode on in front alone, and seemed buried in thought.

At last, when day began to dawn, and the cones and craters of the

mountains became more distinct, the leader of the party checked his

horse, and signed to the troop to halt. The order was instantly obeyed.

But what was the surprise of the young seigneurs, and indeed of the

whole cavalcade, when their chief facing them, and throwing aside his

cloak, disclosed the features of Tansannes!

Exclamations of surprise and anger arose on all sides.

“What is the meaning of this? Where is the Lord Constable? Has he

deserted us?” cried several voices.

“He is on his way to the Franche-Comté,” replied Tansannes. “Instead

of retiring to rest, he quitted the Château d'Herment at midnight,

disguised, and attended only by Pomperant. His aim is to gain

Saint-Claude with as much expedition as possible, and we are to join him

there.”

This announcement caused great discontent among the young seigneurs, and

they gave loud utterance to their anger.

“Pardieu! the Constable has done ill to desert us,” cried Peloux, “We

would all have shed our last drop of blood for him. He had better have

died with his friends than be captured ingloriously.”

“The Constable will never be taken alive,” said Tansannes.

“But he should not have left us without a word,” said Saint-Bonnet. “It

looks as if he could not trust us.”

“He felt you would refuse to leave him,” said Tansannes.

“Why, so we should,” rejoined Desguières. “I, for one, would never have

left him.”

“It was the conviction that a large escort must necessarily increase his

risk, that caused him to abandon you,” said Tansannes. “But he trusts

you will rejoin him at Saint-Claude. He confides his treasure to your

charge.”

“Nothing, then, is left us but to cry 'Sauve qui peut,' and disperse,”

said Peloux. “Let each man make the best of his way to the frontier.”

“Agreed,” replied the others.

“Saint-Claude must be our rendezvous,” said Tansannes. “A week hence,

if all be well, we will meet there. Vive Bourbon!”

“Vive Bourbon!” exclaimed the others, and the shout was echoed by the

whole troop.

The young seigneurs then bade each other adieu, and rode off in

different directions, each taking with him a bag of gold, and a guard of

a dozen soldiers.

XII. THE CHATEAU DE LALLIÈRES.

|Notwithstanding what Tansannes had asserted, Bourbon had not quitted

the Château d'Herment, but had remained in his chamber while his

followers rode away. The only persons taken into his confidence besides

the châtelain, were Pomperant and Tansannes, the former of whom remained

to attend his lord and aid his escape, while the latter undertook to

personate him. The Constable was loth to separate from his devoted

followers, but D'Herment convinced him that if he retained so numerous

a suite he would inevitably be tracked and captured. In this opinion

Tansannes and Pomperant concurred, and at last Bourbon yielded to their

arguments. It was also thought advisable, for greater security, that the

Constable should disguise himself as a serving-man, and for this purpose

a doublet and hose of russet serge were procured for him. A short mantle

of knitted worsted, with a hood attached to it, enabled him partially to

conceal his features.

All being arranged, after an early meal D'Herment rode forth from his

castle, with the ostensible purpose of trying some newly-manned hawks,

He was accompanied by his sister and Pomperant, and the trio were

followed by Bourbon, disguised as before mentioned, and by a couple of

falconers, each having a hawk upon his wrist.

After more than an hour's ride among the mountains, they came to a lake

formed by the damming up of a river by a tremendous stream of lava which

had flowed from the side of a lofty volcanic mountain.

The lake was of some extent, and its borders were in places fringed

by trees, while the shallower parts were full of reeds, bulrushes, and

aquatic plants. Marcelline now took a hawk from one of the falconers,

and a heron shortly afterwards rising from the reeds, she quickly

unhooded the hawk, and cast it off. On perceiving its danger, the heron

flew swiftly upwards, followed with equal swiftness by the hawk, and

to such a height did they soar, that they looked like specks, and

eventually almost vanished from sight. When they reappeared, the hawk

was uppermost, and soon stooped upon her prey, and ere another minute

the heron fell dead within a few yards of Marcelline.

A bittern was next roused, but the party were prevented from continuing

the sport by the appearance of a troop of horsemen coming from the

direction of the chateau. No doubt could be entertained that this troop,

which consisted of a dozen men and a captain, were in pursuit of the

Constable. There was no time for deliberation, but Marcelline was equal

to the emergency.

“Ride on with the prince,” she said to her brother. “Let the Seigneur

Pomperant go with me. They will take him for the Constable. We can make

our way across the mountains to the Château de Lallières. If you can

baffle pursuit, you will find us there.”

To this bold proposition D'Herment at once agreed, and the courageous

damsel, calling upon Pomperant to follow her, dashed up the rugged side

of the mountain. At the same moment, D'Herment, followed by Bourbon and

the falconers, galloped off along a road which skirted the banks of the

lake.