THE PALACE.
The Duke's garde du corps of horse, consisting of a hundred Lorraine
troopers, who wore white hocquetons over their cuirasses, with a
regiment of German imperial infantry, clad in buff coats, with black
helmets of hammered iron, occupied the gates, approaches, and lower
apartments of the palace in which they had been quartered, so that
the people of Nanci might be as little as possible oppressed by their
presence.
The princely residence of the Dukes of Lorraine stands in the oldest
portion of the city. It has a magnificent entrance, within which was
a vestibule, lined by lacqueys, guards, and pages. From thence, we
passed into a noble quadrangle, encircled by a piazza, the columns
and arches of which are covered by florid carving, and embellished by
many statues and bassi-rilievi. It has also several towers, one of
which served for an arsenal and magazine of arms; the others were
staircases. It has gardens of great space and beauty, enclosed on
one side by the ramparts of the city. Surrounded by my escort and a
crowd of staring lacqueys and pages, I remained in the guard-chamber
of the palace, oblivious and heedless alike of their impertinence,
and the peculiarity of my position, occupied by one overwhelming
thought, until I was roused by a sub-brigadier of the gendarmerie,
who rode in, with an order from Monseigneur the Prince of Vaudemont,
who had just been accidentally informed of my capture, to conduct me
to a proper apartment, where every comfort and attention should be
given me; that my escort were to retire, and that I should consider
myself as a prisoner on parole of honour.
I thanked the sub-brigadier, and bade the sergeant, Alsfeldt, adieu,
giving him a crown of the sun to drink my health with his comrades.
I was then led by a valet-de-chambre up one of the staircases to a
portion of the palace that overlooked the gardens, and there three
apartments, each of which might have satisfied a marechal of France,
were assigned to me. The valet gave me every means of repairing or
improving my toilet, which a night spent in the custody of the
musketeers, and especially some cuts and slashes received in my late
encounter with Vaudemont, had somewhat deranged.
My sitting-room was lofty, and had three casemated windows filled
with painted glass; its walls were hung with dark-green velvet,
starred with gilded mullets. An oak cabinet, bearing a service of
plate and shining crystal, stood at One end, and above it hung a
Madonna of Raphael. On the white marble mantelpiece was carved the
celebrated device of the Guises, an A within an O--_chacun_ A _son
tour_--meaning that every angle had its turning.
I seated myself by the table at an open window, with my head resting
on my hand, seeking to arrange my thoughts, and to recover from the
astonishment, the sorrow, and disappointment which oppressed me.
The soft breeze of noon fanned my brow and cheek, which were flushed
and hot. It brought to me the perfume of flowers and the fragrance
of the orangeries. The gardens were beautiful with a thousand varied
flowers; the sunshine was bright and warm; the summer day in Lorraine
was ambient and glorious; but my heart was full of bitterness and
heavy grief--bitterness for my humiliating position, and grief for
the loss of Nicola--for I justly deemed that I had lost her for ever.
The anguish of my disappointment was great; that this artful little
beauty should have fooled me, and trifled with a love so honest and
so true, so honourable and so pure as mine; for I loved, and in the
rash blindness of my boyish love would have married her, when I
believed her to be but a nameless and penniless soubrette, and thus,
for her sake, would have trampled under foot all the inborn prejudice
of race and name, all that family pride and tradition which were ever
the second creed of a Scottish gentleman.
I could neither separate nor analyse all the fierce and bitter
thoughts that grew up within me, but an overwhelming sense of
deception and disappointment were uppermost; for in the brocaded
lady, sparkling with jewels, with necklaces of diamonds and strings
of pearls, mounted on a pawing steed of spotless white, surrounded by
dukes and princes, guards, counts, and cavaliers--in Marie Louise of
Lorraine, I could no longer realise Nicola, the gentle, timid, and
loving Nicola, of my pleasant journey from Paris to the banks of the
Meurthe--she with whom I had passed so strange a night among the
rocks in the forest of Champagne.
While deceiving me as to her name and rank, she had doubted my honour
and trifled with my love: a bitter conviction and a humiliating one.
Then other memories came, and I could scarcely doubt that I had won
an interest in her heart when I rehearsed over and over again our
conversations, all of which were graven in my mind, especially that
which took place in the forest near St. Michel. When I dwelt on her
accents, and the expression of her blue eyes and softly-feminine
face, when she spoke to me then, and on similar occasions, could I
doubt that she loved me?
Yes, I did doubt now, and in the anguish of that doubt I could have
wept.
I recalled the joy she had expressed on learning that Duke Charles
(but Duke Charles was her father) and Count Pappenheim were at Nanci;
I remembered, too, how merrily she seemed to be conversing with the
Count, as their brilliant pageant passed through the public square.
These were doubtless 'trifles light as air,' yet they were heavy as
cannon-shot to me.
'It is enough!' I exclaimed, with growing anger; 'I have been
befooled; this girl never loved me; and if she did, what would her
love avail me now?'
At that moment the rattle of kettle-drums, and sound of trumpets and
trampling of horses, announced the return of the Duke, whose train
rode into the echoing quadrangle. I knew that Nicola was there; but
instead of looking from the windows of the corridor, I placed my
hands upon my ears, and strove to shut out the sounds of triumph that
tortured me.