DECEMBER 31, 1557
Our readers doubtless have divined why Pierre Strozzi had found Lord
Wentworth in such bitter and angry mood, and why the governor of Calais
spoke so haughtily and ironically of Vicomte d'Exmès.
It was because Madame de Castro's detestation of him seemed to increase
from day to day.
When he would send to ask her leave to call upon her, she would always
try to find an excuse for putting him off. But if she were sometimes
compelled to submit to the infliction of his presence, her cold and
formal reception betrayed only too plainly her feeling toward him, and
left him more despairing on each successive occasion.
However, he had not yet grown weary in his love for her. With nothing to
hope for, he still did not despair. He desired, at least, to comport
himself toward Diane as became the perfect gentleman who had left behind
at the court of Mary of England a reputation for most exquisite
refinement and courtesy. He overwhelmed his fair captive with his
attentions. She was waited upon with the utmost consideration and regal
luxury. He had given her a French page, and had engaged for her one of
those Italian musicians who were in such high repute at the period of
the Renaissance. Sometimes Diane would find in her apartments dresses
and ornaments of enormous value, which Lord Wentworth had caused to be
sent from London for her; but she never noticed them.
On one occasion he gave a great fête in her honor at which he assembled
all the notable English there were in Calais or in France. His
invitations even crossed the channel; but Madame de Castro obstinately
refused to appear.
Lord Wentworth, being repulsed with such coldness and disdain, said to
himself day after day that it would surely be much better for his peace
of mind to accept the princely ransom which Henri II. offered, and give
Diane her freedom.
But by doing so he would give her up to the welcome embraces of Gabriel
d'Exmès, and the Briton could never find in his heart sufficient
strength and courage to make so great a sacrifice possible.
"No! no!" he would say to himself, "if she will not be mine, at all
events she shall belong to nobody else!"
While he was thus irresolute and suffering, the days and weeks rolled
away.
On the 31st of December, 1557, Lord Wentworth had succeeded in making
his way into Madame de Castro's apartments. We have said before that he
could scarcely breathe elsewhere, although he always left her more
melancholy and more in love than ever; but to see Diane, stern though
her glance might be, and to hear her voice, however ironical its tones,
had become the most imperious necessity for him.
He remained standing while they talked, and she sat before the high
chimney-piece.
They talked upon the one harrowing subject which united them and kept
them asunder at the same time.
"Suppose, Madame," said the passionate governor, "that at last, beside
myself on account of your cruelty, and enraged by your contempt, I
should forget that I am a gentleman and your host?"
"You would dishonor yourself, my Lord, but would cast no stain upon me,"
Diane replied firmly.
"We shall be dishonored together," Lord Wentworth retorted. "You are in
my power! Where will you find shelter?"
"_Mon Dieu_! in death," she calmly replied.
Lord Wentworth turned pale and shuddered. That he should cause the death
of such as Diane!
"Such obstinacy is not natural," he added, shaking his head. "In reality
you would be afraid to drive me to extremities, if you did not still
cling to some insane hope, Madame. You are always dwelling upon the
happening of some impossible event. Come, tell me, from whom can you be
expecting succor at this hour?"
"From God, from the king--" Diane replied.
There was a sort of rising inflection in her voice and in her thought as
well,--a hesitation which Lord Wentworth knew only too well how to
interpret.
"She is doubtless thinking of that d'Exmès," he said to himself.
But it was a dangerous memory which he did not dare to touch upon or to
arouse.
He contented himself with the bitter rejoinder,--
"Yes, count upon the king and upon God! But if God had thought fit to
help you, Madame. He would have come to your rescue the very first day,
I should think! and here a year has passed away, ending to-day, during
which you have not felt the benefit of His protection."
"Then I will rest my hopes on the year which begins to-morrow," replied
Diane, raising her lovely eyes to heaven, as if imploring aid from on
high.
"As for the King of France, your father," Lord Wentworth continued, "I
imagine that he has on hand matters of sufficient moment to occupy all
his power and engross the whole of his thoughts. France is in even
greater peril than his daughter."
"Ah, it is you who say that!" Diane retorted in a tone of doubt.
"Lord Wentworth does not lie, Madame. Do you know in what condition
your august father's affairs are?"
"How can I know in this prison?" Diane replied, who nevertheless could
not forbear a movement which betokened interest.
"You have only to ask me," Lord Wentworth rejoined, delighted to be
listened to willingly for a moment, even as the bearer of evil tidings.
"Well, then, you must know that the return of the Duc de Guise to Paris
has in no way ameliorated the situation of France as yet. Some troops
have been recruited, and a few places reinforced,--nothing more. At the
present moment there is hesitation and uncertainty everywhere. Their
full military strength, concentrated on the northern frontier, has
succeeded in stopping the triumphant progress of the Spaniards; but the
French generals are undertaking nothing on their own account. Will they
attack Luxembourg? Will they make a descent on Picardy? Nobody knows.
Will they try to retake St. Quentin, or Ham--?"
"Or Calais," Diane interposed, fixing her eyes keenly upon the governor,
to note the effect upon his features of this chance shot.
But Lord Wentworth did not even frown; he said with a proud smile,--
"Oh, Madame, allow me to lay that question aside without considering it.
One who has any idea at all of warfare will not admit for a moment such
an insane supposition; and Monsieur le Duc de Guise has had too much
experience to expose himself by such an extraordinary and impracticable
undertaking to the ridicule of every man in Europe who wears a sword."
At that moment there was some confusion at the door, and an archer
rushed in without ceremony.
Lord Wentworth went to meet him, much irritated.
"What is the meaning of your daring to interrupt me thus?" he demanded.
"Pardon me, my Lord," the archer replied. "Lord Derby sent me to you in
all haste."
"And for what pressing reason? Come, explain yourself!"
"Information has been received by Lord Derby that an advance-guard of
two thousand French arquebusiers was seen yesterday two leagues from
Calais, and his Lordship sent me to notify my Lord at once."
"Aha!" cried Diane, who made no attempt to conceal her satisfaction.
But Lord Wentworth coolly said to the archer,--
"And was it for this only that you have had the impudence to follow me
here, villain?"
"My Lord," said the poor devil, in his stupefaction, "Lord Derby--"
"Lord Derby," the governor interposed, "is a short-sighted individual,
who takes mounds of earth for mountains. Go and tell him so from me."
"How about the guards, my Lord, which Lord Derby ordered doubled as
quickly as possible?"
"Let them remain as they are, and bother me no more with these
ridiculous phantoms!"
The archer bowed respectfully and left the room.
"Nevertheless, my Lord," said Diane de Castro, "you see that in the
opinion of one of your ablest lieutenants, my insane prevision is
capable of being realized to the full."
"I feel more than ever constrained to undeceive you upon this point,"
Lord Wentworth responded with imperturbable coolness. "I can give you
the explanation of this false alarm in two words, nor can I conceive how
Lord Derby allowed himself to be deceived by it."
"Let us see," said Madame de Castro, intensely eager for light upon a
subject upon which her whole life seemed to be concentrated.
"Very well, Madame," continued Lord Wentworth; "one of two things has
happened: either Messieurs de Guise and de Nevers, who are, I admit,
skilful and prudent commanders, mean to revictual Ardres and Boulogne,
and are on their way thither with the troops whose presence has been
announced, or else they are making a feint against Calais for the
purpose of calming the fears of Ham and St. Quentin, and mean to try to
take one of those towns by surprise, by suddenly retracing their steps."
"But how do you know, Monsieur," rejoined Madame de Castro, with more
rashness than discretion,--"how do you know, pray, that their feint has
not been made against Ham or St. Quentin, in order to surprise Calais
more effectually?"
Fortunately she had to deal with an immovable conviction, rooted upon
national and personal pride as well.
"I have already had the honor of assuring you, Madame," said Lord
Wentworth, disdainfully, "that Calais is one of those places that cannot
possibly be surprised or taken; before it can even be approached, Fort
Ste. Agathe must be carried, and the fort of Nieullay as well. To carry
all these posts would take a fortnight at least of unvarying success;
and during those fifteen days England would be warned of the danger, and
would have ample time--yes, fifteen times what would be necessary--to
pour forth all her might to rescue her precious city. Take Calais! Ah, I
cannot help laughing at the bare idea!"
Madame de Castro, wounded to the quick, bitterly retorted,--
"The source of my sorrow is to you a source of delight. How can you
suppose that our souls could ever understand each other?"
"But, Madame," cried Lord Wentworth, growing pale, "I only wished to
destroy those delusive imaginings of yours which keep us asunder. I
wished to prove to you as clearly as the sun shines that you are feeding
upon chimeras, and that the French court must have gone mad before such
an attempt as you are dreaming of could ever be imagined there."
"There is such a thing as heroic madness, my Lord," said Diane, proudly;
"and I am sure that there are great-souled men too, whose love of
glory--nay, whose simple devotion would prevent them from drawing back
from such sublime extravagance."
"Oh, yes!--Monsieur d'Exmès, for example!" cried Wentworth, carried
away by jealous fury which he could no longer restrain.
"Who told you of that name?" asked Madame de Castro, in amazement.
"Confess, Madame," the governor rejoined, "that you have had that name
upon your lips ever since the beginning of this interview, and that in
your inmost heart when you were invoking the aid of God and your father
you were also thinking of this third liberator."
"Am I obliged to render an account of my thoughts to you?" said Diane.
"You need render no account to me, for I know all," replied the
governor. "I know some things of which you have no idea, Madame, and
which it suits my pleasure to tell you to-day, to show you how little
you can build upon the ecstatic passion of these romantic lovers.
Notably, I know that Vicomte d'Exmès was made a prisoner at St. Quentin
when you were, and was brought here to Calais at the same time with
you."
"Can it be?" cried Diane, astounded beyond measure.
"Oh, there is more than that, Madame! Otherwise I should have told you
nothing. For two months Monsieur d'Exmès has been at liberty."
"And I never knew that a friend was suffering with me, and so near me!"
said Diane.
"You did not know it, but he did, Madame," said the governor. "I must
confess that when he first learned the fact he exhausted himself in
terrible threats against me. Not only did he challenge me to single
combat, but--as you foresaw, with a charming sympathy--carrying his love
to the point of madness, he declared to my face his determination to
take Calais."
"My hopes are greater than ever, then," said Diane.
"Don't hope for too much, Madame," said Lord Wentworth; "for once more I
tell you, since Monsieur d'Exmès addressed his appalling farewell to me
six months have passed. To be sure, I have had news from my aggressor in
that time. At the end of November he sent me, with scrupulous
promptness, the amount of his ransom; but not a word of his haughty
defiance."
"Wait, my Lord," Diane retorted. "Monsieur d'Exmès will find a way to
pay his debts of every description."
"I doubt it, Madame, for the day of maturity will soon be past."
"What do you mean?" asked Madame de Castro.
"I sent word, Madame, to Vicomte d'Exmès, by the messenger who came to
me from him, that I would await the fulfilment of his double challenge
until the 1st of January, 1558. It is now Dec. 31, 1557."
"Well, then," Diane interrupted him, "he has twelve hours still."
"True, Madame," responded Wentworth; "but if I hear nothing from him by
to-morrow at this hour--"
He did not finish his sentence. Lord Derby at this moment burst into the
room in terror.
"My Lord," he cried, "I was right! It was the French, and they are
marching upon Calais!"
"Nonsense!" rejoined Wentworth, changing color in spite of
himself,--"nonsense! It is impossible! Who says it is so? More rumors
and gossip and fanciful alarms?"
"Alas! no, but facts, unfortunately," Lord Derby replied.
"Not so loud, Derby; don't speak so loud," said the governor,
approaching his lieutenant. "Come, come, be cool! What do you mean by
your facts?"
Lord Derby replied in a low voice, in accordance with the request of his
superior officer, who did not choose to show any signs of weakness
before Diane.
"The French attacked Fort Ste. Agathe unexpectedly. Nothing was in
readiness to resist their assault,--neither walls nor men; and I am much
afraid that they are by this time masters of the first line of
fortifications of Calais."
"They will still be a long way off from us," said Lord Wentworth,
eagerly.
"Yes," rejoined Lord Derby; "but they will meet with no obstacle after
that until they reach the bridge of Nieullay; and the bridge of Nieullay
is two miles from this place."
"Have you sent reinforcements to our outposts, Derby?"
"Yes, my Lord, pardon me, without your orders,--nay, in spite of your
orders."
"You have done well," said Lord Wentworth.
"Bub the reinforcements will have arrived too late."
"Who knows? Let us not be alarmed. You must go with me at once to
Nieullay. We will make these rash rascals pay dear for their audacity;
and if they already hold Ste. Agathe, why, we shall be free to drive
them out of it."
"God grant it!" said Lord Derby; "but they have begun the game
manfully."
"We will have our revenge!" replied Wentworth. "Who commands them, do
you know?"
"It is not known,--probably Monsieur de Guise, or Monsieur de Nevers, at
least. The ensign who rode here at full speed to bring the almost
incredible news of their sudden appearance told me only that he
recognized at a distance, in the front rank, your former prisoner, you
remember, Vicomte d'Exmès--"
"Damnation!" cried the governor, clinching his fists. "Come, Derby, come
quickly!"
Madame de Castro, with her senses sharpened, as they are apt to be at
important crises, had heard almost all of Lord Derby's report, although
made in a low voice.
When Lord Wentworth took leave of her, he said--
"You will excuse me, Madame; I must leave you, as business of
importance--"
"Go, my Lord," she interrupted, not without a tinge of malice in her
tone; "go, and try to re-establish your supremacy, which is cruelly
threatened. But remember, meanwhile, two things: first, that the
greatest delusions are just the ones that are not doubtful; and in the
second place, that you can always rely upon the word of a French
gentleman. It is not yet the 1st of January, my Lord."
Lord Wentworth, in a fury of rage, left the room without replying.