SMALL CRAFT SOMETIMES SAVE LARGE MEN-OF-WAR
When Vicomte d'Exmès was left alone with the Duc de Guise, he began the
conversation thus,--
"Well, Monseigneur, are you content?"
"Yes, my friend," François de Lorraine replied,--"yes, I am content
with the results so far attained, but I confess I am very anxious as to
the future. It was this anxiety which drove me out of my tent to-night
to wander about the camp, and come to you for encouragement and advice."
"But what is there new?" asked Gabriel. "I should imagine that the
result so far has surpassed all your anticipations, has it not? In four
days you have made yourself master of two of the outworks of Calais;
besides, the defenders of the city itself and the Old Château cannot
hold out more than forty-eight hours longer."
"Very true," said the duke; "but they can hold out that length of time,
and that will be quite long enough to foil all our plans, and save
themselves."
"Oh, Monseigneur must allow me to express my doubts of that," said
Gabriel.
"No, my friend, my long experience does not mislead me," rejoined the
Duc de Guise; "except for some unexpected piece of good fortune, or some
occurrence beyond human foresight, our undertaking has failed. Believe
me when I say this."
"But why?" asked Gabriel, with a smile, which contrasted strangely with
the gloomy prognostications of the duke.
"I will tell you in two words, upon the basis of your own plan. Listen
carefully to what I say."
"I am all attention," said Gabriel.
"The extraordinarily hazardous experiment into which your youthful
enthusiasm seduced my more cautious ambition," continued the duke, "had
no possible chance of success except in the isolation and complete
surprise of the English garrison. Calais was impregnable, we were
agreed, but might be taken by surprise. We reasoned out our insane
enterprise along that line, did we not?"
"And up to the present moment," was Gabriel's reply, "the facts have
borne us out in our reasoning."
"They have indeed," said the duke; "and you have demonstrated, Gabriel,
that your judgment of men is as keen and far-seeing as your perception
of facts; and that you had studied the disposition and character of the
governor of Calais as carefully as the interior plan of his seat of
government. Lord Wentworth has not belied a single one of your
conjectures. He believed that his nine hundred men and his formidable
outposts would suffice to make us repent of our reckless freak. He
despised us too much to be alarmed, and did not deign to call a single
company to his assistance, either from any other part of the continent
or from England."
"I did indeed succeed in conjecturing how his arrogant pride would
comport itself under such circumstances."
"Thanks to his overweening self-conceit," resumed the Duc de Guise, "we
carried Fort Ste. Agathe almost without striking a blow, and the
Nieullay fort after three days of successful fighting."
"So that at this moment," said Gabriel, cheerfully, "any bodies of
English or Spaniards, coming by land to the rescue of their countrymen
or their allies, will find the batteries of the Duc de Guise ready to
exterminate them, instead of Lord Wentworth's cannon to second their
assault."
"They will be on their guard, and will not approach very near," said the
duke, smiling; for the young man's buoyant hopefulness was beginning to
infect him.
"Well, then, have we not gained an important point?" said Gabriel.
"No doubt, no doubt," replied the duke; "but unfortunately it is not
all, nor is it even the most important part. We have closed one of the
roads by which outside reinforcements might enter Calais, and one of the
gates of the city. But another gate and another road are still open."
"What one, pray, Monseigneur?" asked Gabriel, pretending to be in doubt.
"Cast your eye upon this map, drawn by Maréchal Strozzi, from the plan
you furnished him," said the commander-in-chief. "Calais may be relieved
at these two opposite points,--by the Nieullay fort, which covers the
approaches on the landward side--"
"But which covers them for our benefit now," Gabriel interrupted.
"Very true," rejoined the duke; "but here on the ocean side, protected
by the sea itself, by the marshes and sand-dunes, is the Risbank fort,
do you see?--or if you choose to call it so, the Octagonal Tower,--a
fort which commands the whole harbor, and makes it impossible for
attacking vessels to enter. Let an express be sent to Dover, and in a
few hours the English ships will transport hither enough troops and
supplies to enable the place to hold out for years. Thus the Risbank
fort protects the city, and the sea protects the Risbank fort. Now,
Gabriel, do you know what Lord Wentworth has done since his last
misfortune?"
"Perfectly well," rejoined Vicomte d'Exmès, calmly. "Lord Wentworth,
acting upon the unanimous opinion of his council, has sent an express in
hot haste to Dover, to make up for his culpable delay, and expects to
receive by this time to-morrow the reinforcements of which he has at
last admitted the need."
"Well, you have not finished?" said Monsieur de Guise.
"I confess, Monseigneur, that I cannot look ahead much further," replied
Gabriel. "I have not the prescience of God."
"No more than human prescience is needed here," said François de
Lorraine; "but since yours stops halfway, I will finish for you."
"I should be glad if Monseigneur would condescend to tell me what will
ensue, in his opinion," said Gabriel, bowing respectfully.
"It is very simple," said Monsieur de Guise. "The besieged, reinforced,
if need be, by all England, will be enabled after to-morrow to face us
at the Old Château with a superior force, if not an absolutely
invincible one. If, notwithstanding, we still maintain our position,
every Spaniard and Englishman in France will come down upon us here in
the suburbs of Calais like the winter's snow from Ardres and Ham and St.
Quentin; and when they decide that their numbers are sufficient, they
will take their turn at besieging us. I agree that they will not be able
to take the Nieullay fort without some difficulty; but they will easily
repossess themselves of Fort Ste. Agathe, and then they will have us at
their mercy between two fires."
"Such a catastrophe would indeed be terrible," said Gabriel, coolly.
"Yet it is only too likely to happen," rejoined the duke, passing his
hand despondently over his brow.
"But surely, Monseigneur," said Gabriel, "you have not failed to
consider the means of preventing such a disaster?"
"I am thinking of nothing else, upon my soul!" said the Duc de Guise.
"Well?" asked Gabriel, carelessly.
"Well, our only chance,--and a very precarious and hopeless chance it
is, alas!--is, in my opinion, to make a desperate assault upon the Old
Château to-morrow, under any circumstances. Nothing will be in
readiness, I am aware, even though we were to pass the whole night in
most assiduous and unremitting labor. But there is no other course for
us to take; and it is less foolhardy than it would be for us to await
the arrival of reinforcements from England. The 'French fury,' as they
call it in Italy, may possibly succeed, by dint of its extraordinary
impetuosity, in storming these inaccessible walls."
"No, it will be helplessly shattered against them," rejoined Gabriel,
coldly. "Pardon me, Monseigneur, but it seems to me that at this moment
the French army is neither sufficiently strong nor sufficiently weak
thus to attempt the impossible. A fearful responsibility rests upon you,
Monseigneur. It is probable that we should be finally beaten back after
we had lost half of our force. What does the Duc de Guise mean to do in
that event?"
"Not to expose himself to total ruin, to a complete overthrow, at all
events," said François de Lorraine, gloomily; "but to withdraw from
before these cursed walls with such troops as I have left, and save them
until better days dawn for our king and country."
"What, the victor of Metz and Renty retreat!" cried Gabriel.
"That is certainly much better than not knowing when one is beaten, as
was the case with the constable on the day of St. Laurent," said the Duc
de Guise.
"And yet," continued Gabriel, "it would be a disastrous blow to the
glory of France, as well as to Monseigneur's reputation."
"Alas! who knows that so well as I?" exclaimed the duke. "See upon what
slender threads depend success and fortune! If I had succeeded, I should
have been a hero, a transcendent genius, a demigod; I fail, and I shall
be henceforth only a vain and presumptuous fool, who well deserved the
disgrace of his fall. The self-same undertaking which would have been
called magnificent and marvellous, had it turned out happily, will draw
upon me the ridicule of all Europe, and postpone if it does not destroy
in the germ all my plans and hopes. To what do the paltry ambitions of
this world lead!"
The duke ceased to speak, apparently a prey to bitter chagrin. There was
a long silence, which Gabriel was very careful not to break.
He desired to give Monsieur de Guise ample opportunity to gauge the
terrible difficulties of the crisis with his experienced eye.
When he considered that the duke must have probed them to the bottom, he
said,--
"I see, Monseigneur, that you are at present involved in one of those
periods of doubt and anxiety which come to the greatest of men in the
midst of their greatest works. One word, however: Surely no such lofty
genius, no such consummate general, as he to whom I have the honor of
speaking, could have lightly engaged in so momentous an enterprise as
this, unless the smallest details, the most unlikely contingencies, had
all been discussed at the Louvre. You must have worked out in advance
favorable results for all possible sudden changes of fortune, and
remedies for all possible ills. How does it happen, then, that you are
hesitating and seeking anew for them now?"
"_Mon Dieu_!" said the Duc de Guise, "your youthful enthusiasm and
confidence fascinated and blinded me, I believe, Gabriel."
"Monseigneur!" said Gabriel, reproachfully.
"Oh, don't feel wounded, I beg, for I bear you no ill-will for it, my
friend! I still admire your design, which was both a grand and a
patriotic one. But stern reality is very fond of destroying our fairest
dreams. Nevertheless, I remember distinctly that I laid before you
certain objections, founded upon the possibility of this very extremity
to which we are now reduced, and that you removed my scruples."
"And how, Monseigneur, please?"
"You promised me," said the Duc de Guise, "that if we succeeded in a few
days in gaining possession of the two forts of Ste. Agathe and Nieullay,
the secret arrangement that you had with persons in the town would place
the Risbank fort in our hands, and thus Calais might be shut off from
all hope of reinforcement by sea or land. Yes, Gabriel, I remember, and
you must remember yourself, that you gave me that assurance."
"Very well!" said Gabriel, without the least symptom of anxiety or
embarrassment.
"Well," rejoined the duke, "your hopes deceived you, did they not? Your
friends in Calais have failed to keep their word, as was to be expected.
They are evidently not yet certain of our success, and are timid;
consequently they will not show themselves until it is too late to do us
any good."
"Pardon me, Monseigneur, but who told you that?" asked Gabriel.
"Why, your very silence, my dear fellow. The time has come when our
secret allies ought to come to our assistance, in which event they might
perhaps save us. They give no sign, and your lips are sealed; therefore
I conclude that you no longer rely upon them, and that we must renounce
all hope of succor from that quarter."
"If you knew me better, Monseigneur," was Gabriel's response, "you would
know that I never like to talk when I can act."
"What's that? Do you still have hopes?" asked the Duc de Guise.
"Yes, Monseigneur, since I am still living," Gabriel replied, in a grave
and melancholy tone.
"And the Risbank fort?"
"Shall be in your hands when necessary, unless I am dead."
"But, Gabriel, it will be necessary to-morrow,--to-morrow morning!"
"Then we shall have it to-morrow morning!" replied Gabriel,
calmly,--"that is, I say again, unless I fall; but in that event you
cannot reproach one who has given his life in the attempt for his
failure to keep his word."
"Gabriel," said the Duc de Guise, "what is it that you have in mind to
do? Is it to face some mortal peril or to hazard some insane chance? I
do not wish it; I do not wish it! France is only too much in need of
such men as you."
"Be not at all alarmed, Monseigneur," rejoined Gabriel. "Though the
danger be great, the end to be attained is even greater, and the
enterprise is well worth the risk which attends it. You need only think
how to profit by the result, and leave the means to me. I am only
responsible for myself; but you are responsible for every man in the
army."
"At least tell me what I can do to second your plan?" said the duke.
"What part have you assigned to me?"
"Monseigneur," Gabriel replied, "if you had not done me the honor to
come to my tent this evening, it was my intention to seek you in your
own quarters, and to make a request."
"Go on,--speak!" said the duke, earnestly.
"To-morrow, the 5th of the month, at daybreak, Monseigneur,--that is to
say, about eight o'clock, the nights being very long in January,--I ask
you to station a look-out with keen sight on the promontory from which
the Risbank fort can be seen. If the English flag is still waving there
at that time, take the chances of the desperate assault you have
resolved upon, for I shall have failed; in other words, I shall be
dead."
"Dead!" cried the duke. "You see, Gabriel, that you are fearing your own
destruction."
"In that event, waste no time in vain regrets for me, Monseigneur," said
the youth; "only let everything be in readiness, and devote all your
energy to your last effort; and I pray God to give you means of success!
Let every man share in the attack! The reinforcements from England
cannot possibly arrive before noon; therefore you will have jour hours
of heroism before you in which to prove, ere you beat the retreat, that
the French are as fearless as they are prudent."
"But, Gabriel, assure me again that you have some chance of success."
"Yes, indeed I have; be sure of that, Monseigneur. Therefore wait calmly
and patiently, like the strong man that you are. Do not give the word
too quickly for a headlong assault; I beg of you not to stake all upon
that cast until it is actually necessary. Last of all, you need only
keep Maréchal Strozzi and the miners quietly at work on the siege
lines; and let your soldiers and artillerymen await the favorable moment
for an assault, if at eight o'clock you are informed that the standard
of France is flying over the Risbank fort."
"The standard of France over the Risbank fort!" cried the duke.
"A glance at it in such position," rejoined Gabriel, "will cause the
ships on their way from England to retrace their steps without loss of
time."
"I agree with you there," said Monsieur de Guise. "But, my dear friend,
how will you do it?"
"Let me keep my secret, I implore you, Monseigneur," said Gabriel. "If
you knew my extraordinary design, you might perhaps try to dissuade me
from it. But it is no longer time to reflect and hesitate. Moreover, in
all this I neither compromise the army nor yourself. These men here, the
only ones whom I propose to employ, are all my own volunteers, and you
agreed to leave me free to do as I would with them. I propose to
accomplish my purpose unaided, or to die in the attempt."
"But why this pride?" asked the duke.
"It is not pride, Monseigneur; but I wish to requite as well as I can
the priceless favor which you were good enough to promise me at Paris,
and which I trust you remember."
"What priceless favor are you talking about, Gabriel?" said the duke. "I
am supposed to have a good memory, especially where my friends are
concerned; but I am ashamed to confess that in this instance I do not
remember."
"Alas! Monseigneur," Gabriel rejoined, "it is a very important matter
for me, however! This is what I asked of you: if it should be proved to
your satisfaction that in the execution as well as the conception of the
project, the taking of Calais was due to me, and to me alone, I begged
you not to give me the credit in public, for that credit would belong to
you, as leader of the expedition, but simply to announce to King Henri
II. the share which I had had under your orders in the conquest. You
then graciously allowed me to hope that reward would be accorded
me."
"What! Is that the invaluable favor to which you allude, Gabriel?" asked
the duke. "The deuce take me if I thought of that! But, my dear fellow,
that will be no reward whatever, but a simple act of justice; and in
secret or in public, as you choose, I shall be ever ready and willing to
recognize and bear witness as I ought to your services and your
deserts."
"My ambition does not go beyond what I have asked, Monseigneur," said
Gabriel. "If the king be informed of my efforts, he has it in his power
to bestow upon me a reward which would be worth more to me than all the
honor and good fortune in the world."
"The king shall know all that you may have done for him, Gabriel. But
can I do nothing more for you!"
"Indeed, Monseigneur, I have one or two other demands to make upon your
good-will."
"Tell me," said the duke.
"In the first place," said Gabriel, "I must have the countersign, so
that I may be able to leave camp with my people at any hour of the night
I choose."
"You have only to say 'Calais and Charles,' and the sentinels will allow
you to pass."
"Then, Monseigneur," said Gabriel, "if I fall, and your assault
succeeds, I venture to remind you that Madame Diane de Castro, the
king's daughter, is Lord Wentworth's prisoner, and has an indisputable
claim upon your courteous protection."
"I will remember my duty as a man and a gentleman," rejoined the duke.
"And then?"
"Lastly, Monseigneur, I am about to contract to-night a considerable
debt to a fisherman of this coast, named Anselme. If Anselme dies with
me, I have written to Master Elyot, who has charge of my property, to
provide for the maintenance and well-being of his family, deprived as
they will be of his support. But for greater security, Monseigneur, I
would be deeply obliged if you would see that my orders are executed."
"It shall be done," said the duke. "Is that all?"
"It is, Monseigneur," Gabriel replied. "But if you never see me again,
think of me sometimes, I beg, with a little regret, and speak of me as
one for whom you had some esteem, whether it be to the king, who will
surely be glad to hear of my death, or to Madame de Castro, who may
perhaps be grieved. Now I will detain you no longer, but will bid you
hire well, Monseigneur."
The Duc de Guise rose to go.
"Pray banish your gloomy thoughts, my friend," said he. "I leave you, so
that you may be perfectly free to go on with your mysterious project;
but I confess that until eight o'clock to-morrow, I shall be very
anxious and shall find it hard to sleep. But it will be principally
because of the obscurity which hides your operations from me. Something
tells me that I shall see you again; therefore I will not say adieu."
"Thanks for the augury, Monseigneur," said Gabriel; "for if you see me
again, it will be in Calais when it shall have become a French city."
"And in that event," said the duke, "you can fairly boast of having
rescued the honor of France, and mine as well, from bitter peril."
"Small craft, Monseigneur, sometimes save large men-of-war," said
Gabriel, bowing.
The Duc de Guise, at the door of the tent, gave Gabriel's hand a cordial
grasp, and withdrew in deep thought to his headquarters.