LOVE DISDAINED
Lord Wentworth believed himself to be sure of two things: in the first
place, that two full hours would elapse before Calais would capitulate,
and that Lord Derby would demand at least five hours before delivering
up the city; in the second place, he was confident that he should find
his house entirely unoccupied, for he had taken the precaution to send
off all his people to the breach in the morning. André, Madame de
Castro's French page, had been imprisoned by his orders; so that Diane
must be alone in the mansion, except for one or two of her women.
In truth he did find everything deserted as the abode of the dead, as he
went into the house; while Calais, like a body from which the life-blood
is ebbing away, was gathering all her force for a final struggle at the
spot where fighting was in progress.
Lord Wentworth, gloomy, savage, and in a measure drunken with despair,
went directly to the apartments occupied by Madame de Castro.
He did not send in his name, as his custom had been, but entered
brusquely, like a master, the room where she was sitting with one of the
maids who had been furnished her.
Without any salutation to the wondering Diane, he said imperiously to
the maid,--
"Leave the room at once! The French will be in the city this evening,
and I have neither the time nor the power to protect you. Go and find
your father; your place is with him. Go at once, and tell the two or
three women who are left in the house that I wish them to do the same
without loss of time."
"But, my Lord--" the maid remonstrated.
"Ah!" returned the governor, stamping his foot angrily; "did you not
hear what I said? I wish it!"
"But, my Lord--" Diane began.
"I have said, 'I wish it!' Madame," replied Lord Wentworth, with a
gesture of inflexible determination. The maid left the room in terror.
"Truly, I should not have known you, my Lord," said Diane, after an
agonizing silence.
"It is because you have never before seen me in the guise of a
vanquished man, Madame," rejoined Lord Wentworth, with a bitter smile.
"You have been a farseeing prophet of ruin and disaster for me; and I
was in truth an insensate fool not to believe you. I am beaten,
absolutely beaten, beyond resource and beyond hope. So you may rejoice."
"Is the success of the French at this point really beyond question?"
asked Diane, who could with difficulty conceal her pleasure.
"How can it be otherwise, Madame? The Nieullay and Risbank forts and the
Old Château are in their power. They have the city between three fires,
and Calais is theirs beyond cavil. So you may rejoice."
"Oh!" Diane rejoined, "with such a foe as you, my Lord, victory is never
certain; and in spite of myself,--yes, I confess, and you will
understand me,--in spite of myself I still am incredulous."
"But Madame," cried Lord Wentworth, "do you not see that I have left the
field; that after having taken part in the battle to the very last, I
could not make up my mind to witness the final catastrophe, and that is
why I am here? Lord Derby will surrender in an hour and a half. In that
time, Madame, the French will enter Calais in triumph, and Vicomte
d'Exmès with them. So you may rejoice."
"You say that in such a strange way, my Lord, that I do not know whether
I ought to believe you or not," said Diane, who was beginning to hope
nevertheless; so that her expression and her involuntary smile were
illumined by the thought of deliverance.
"In order to persuade you, then, Madame," rejoined Lord Wentworth,--"for
I mean to persuade you,--I will adopt another manner of speaking, and I
will say to you: Madame, in an hour and a half the French will enter the
city in triumph, and Vicomte d'Exmès with them. Tremble!"
"What do you mean?" cried Diane, as the color fled from her cheeks.
"What! Am I not sufficiently explicit?" said Lord Wentworth, approaching
Diane with a laugh of sinister meaning. "I say to you: In an hour and a
half, Madame, our rôles will be changed,--you will be free, and I a
prisoner; Vicomte d'Exmès will come to restore you to liberty and love
and happiness, and to cast me into a dungeon. Tremble!"
"Why, pray, should I tremble?" Diane responded, retreating as far as the
walls would allow from the sombre yet burning gaze of this man.
"_Mon Dieu_! it is very easy to understand," said Lord Wentworth. "At
this moment I am master; but in an hour and a half I shall be a
slave,--in an hour and a quarter rather, for the minutes are flying. In
an hour and a quarter I shall be in your power; now you are in mine. In
an hour Vicomte d'Exmès will be here; but now I am here. So rejoice and
tremble, Madame!"
"My Lord, my Lord!" cried poor Diane, repulsing Lord Wentworth, with
rapidly beating heart. "What do you want of me?"
"What do I want of you!--of you!" said the governor in a hollow voice.
"Don't come near me, or I will cry out; I will call for help, and
dishonor you, villain!" exclaimed Diane, in an ecstasy of terror.
"Cry out and call for help as much as you choose; it's all the same to
me," Lord Wentworth rejoined with ominous tranquillity. "The house is
deserted, and so are the streets; no one will answer your cries for at
least an hour. Look! I have not even taken the trouble to close the
doors and windows, so sure am I that no one will come in less than an
hour."
"But they will at the end of that time," Diane retorted; "and then I
will accuse and denounce you, and my deliverers will kill you."
"No," said Lord Wentworth, coldly, "for it is I who will kill myself. Do
you imagine that I have any desire to survive the fall of Calais? In an
hour I shall kill myself; I have made up my mind beyond recall. But
before that I choose to give full play to my passion, and to satisfy my
vengeance and my love in this last supreme hour. Come, my fair one, your
resistance and your contempt are out of season now,--for I no longer
beg, but command; I no longer implore, but demand."
"And I die!" cried Diane, drawing a knife from her bosom.
Before she had time to strike, Lord Wentworth sprang toward her, seized
her weak little hands in his powerful ones, tore the knife from her
grasp, and threw it far away.
"Not yet!" he cried, with a smile of terrible import; "I do not choose,
Madame, that you should turn your hand against yourself yet. Afterward
you may do as you choose; and if you prefer to die with me rather than
live with him, you will be quite at liberty to do so. But this last
hour,--for there is only an hour left now,--this last hour of your life
belongs to me; I have but this hour in which to make amends to myself
for the eternity of hell to come hereafter; so be very sure that I will
not renounce my right."
He attempted to lay hold of her. Thereupon fainting, and feeling that
her strength was forsaking her, she threw herself at his feet.
"Mercy, my Lord!" she cried, "mercy, I ask mercy and forgiveness on my
knees! By the memory of your mother, remember that you are a gentleman."
"A gentleman!" retorted Lord Wentworth, shaking his head; "yes, I was a
gentleman, and I so bore myself, I think, so long as I triumphed and
hoped,--yes, so long as I lived. But now I am no longer a gentleman; I
am simply a man,--a man who is about to die, and proposes first to be
revenged."
He raised Madame de Castro, kneeling at his feet, and held her close in
a passionate embrace. She tried to pray, or to cry out, but she could
not.
At this moment a great uproar was heard in the street.
"Ah!" Diane succeeded in ejaculating, her eye kindling once more with a
ray of hope.
"Good!" said Wentworth, with a demoniac laugh; "it seems that the people
are beginning to plunder on their own account while waiting for the
enemy. So be it! They are doing quite right, upon my word! It is for the
governor to set the example."
"Mercy!" she managed to say once more.
"No, no!" was Lord Wentworth's response. "You are too beautiful."
She swooned.
But the governor had not even had time to kiss Diane's colorless lips,
when the uproar came nearer.
Vicomte d'Exmès, the two Peuquoys, and three or four French archers
burst violently through the doorway and appeared upon the threshold.
Gabriel fairly leaped upon Lord Wentworth, sword in hand, with a
terrible cry.
"Villain!"
Lord Wentworth, with clenched teeth, also seized his sword which was
lying upon a chair.
"Stand back!" said Gabriel to his companions, who were about to
intervene. "It is my pleasure to punish the infamous scoundrel with my
own hand."
Without another sound the two adversaries furiously crossed weapons.
Pierre and Jean Peuquoy and their companions took up positions so as to
give them ample space, and remained silent but by no means indifferent
spectators of this deadly combat.
Diane was still lying unconscious upon the couch.
Let us tell in a few words how this providential succor had come to the
defenceless prisoner so much sooner than Lord Wentworth had anticipated.
Pierre Peuquoy, during the two preceding days, had, as he had promised
Gabriel, aroused and armed all those who were in secret devoted to the
French cause. The ultimate victory being no longer doubtful, this class
had naturally become much more numerous. They were for the most part
circumspect and cautious burghers, who were unanimous in thinking that
since they no longer had any means of offering resistance, the best
course was to arrange for capitulation on the most favorable terms that
could be obtained.
The armorer, who did not want to strike the final blow until it was
perfectly safe to do so, waited until his strength was sufficiently
great, and the siege far enough advanced, to run no risk of uselessly
exposing the lives of those who relied on him. As soon as the Old
Château was taken, he determined to act. But it took him some time to
assemble his fellow-conspirators, who were scattered all over the city;
and it was just as Lord Wentworth left the breach, that the movement
within the city made itself felt.
But it was the more irresistible in proportion as it had been slow of
development.
In the first place, the penetrating blast of Pierre Peuquoy's horn had
brought, as if by magic, Vicomte d'Exmès, Jean, and half of their men,
rushing out of the Risbank fort. The feeble detachment which kept the
walls at that point was speedily disarmed, and the gate opened to the
French.
Thereupon the whole Peuquoy faction, increased by this reinforcement,
and emboldened by their first easily won success, hastened to the
breach, where Lord Derby was trying to make as gallant a struggle as
possible.
When this sort of revolt thus left Lord Wentworth's lieutenant between
two fires, what was there for him to do? The French flag had already
been brought into Calais by Vicomte d'Exmès. The city militia had
risen, and were threatening to open the gates to the besiegers. Lord
Derby preferred to yield at once. It was only to anticipate the
governor's orders by a few moments, and to avoid another hour and a half
of profitless resistance, even if this resistance should not become
impossible, which would make the defeat no less complete, and might lead
to more cruel reprisals.
Lord Derby sent a flag of truce to the Duc de Guise.
That was all that Gabriel and the Peuquoys asked for the nonce. They
remarked the absence of Lord Wentworth, and were alarmed at it. So they
left, where a few dropping shots were still to be heard, and spurred on
by a presentiment of evil, they hastened to the governor's residence,
with two or three trusty soldiers.
All the doors were open, and they found no difficulty in making their
way to Madame de Castro's apartments, whither Gabriel hurried them on.
It was full time; and the sword of Diane's lover came most opportunely
to protect the daughter of Henri II. from a most base and cowardly
assault.
The duel between Gabriel and the governor was of short duration. The two
combatants seemed to be equally expert swordsmen. Both showed equal
coolness in a like state of fury. Their blades were entwined together
like two serpents, and crossed and recrossed with the rapidity of
lightning.
However, after two minutes fencing, Lord Wentworth's sword was struck
from his hand by a vigorous counter on Gabriel's part.
In crouching to avoid the stroke, Lord Wentworth slipped upon the floor
and fell.
Anger, scorn, hatred, and all the violent emotions which were struggling
in Gabriel's heart left no room for generosity. There was no quarter for
such a foe. In an instant he was upon him, with his sword at his breast.
There was not one of those who were present at the scene, inflamed as
they were with indignation so lately aroused, who would have cared to
stay the avenging hand.
But Diane de Castro while the fight was in progress had had time to
recover from her swoon.
As she raised her heavy eyelids she saw and understood all, and rushed
between Gabriel and Lord Wentworth.
[Illustration: Love Disdained.]
By an extraordinary coincidence, the last word she had uttered as she
fainted was the first upon her lips when she regained consciousness.
"Mercy!"
She prayed for mercy for the very man to whom she had herself prayed in
vain.
Gabriel, at the sight of his idolized Diane, and the sound of her
omnipotent voice, no longer was sensible of anything except her
gentleness and his love for her. In his heart rage at once gave way to
clemency.
"Do you wish him to live, Diane?" he asked his beloved.
"I beg it of you, Gabriel," said she; "for ought we not to give him time
to repent?"
"So be it!" said the young man; "let the angel save the demon's
life,--it is her proper role."
And still keeping Lord Wentworth, boiling with rage, under his knee, he
said quietly to the Peuquoys and the archers,--
"Come here and bind this man while I hold him; then you can imprison him
in his own dwelling until Monsieur de Guise determines his fate."
"No! kill me, kill me!" cried Lord Wentworth, struggling furiously.
"Do as I say!" said Gabriel, without loosing his hold. "I begin to think
that life will be a greater burden to him than death."
Gabriel's orders were obeyed; and Lord Wentworth struggled and fumed and
threatened in vain, for he was gagged and bound in an instant. Then two
or three of the men took the ex-governor of Calais in their arms and
carried him off, without ceremony.
Gabriel then turned to Jean Peuquoy, and said to him in his cousin's
hearing,--
"My friend, I have already told Martin-Guerre the extraordinary story of
his impersonation in your presence. You then deplored the cruel error
which led to the punishment of an innocent man; and you asked for
nothing better, I know, than to relieve as speedily as possible the
terrible suffering he is at this moment undergoing for another. Do me a
favor then--"
"I can guess what it is," brave Jean interrupted. "You desire me, do you
not, to seek one Ambroise Paré, who may be able to save your poor
squire? I fly to do it; and that he may be the better cared for, I will
have him taken at once to our house, if it can be done without
endangering his life."
Pierre Peuquoy, in a sort of stupefaction, listened to Gabriel and his
cousin, and looked from one to the other, as if he was dreaming.
"Come, Pierre," said Jean, "you will help me in this. Oh! of course you
are astonished, and do not understand; but I will explain everything to
you as we go along, and I shall have no difficulty in making you see the
matter as I now do; and then you will be the very first one--for I know
you well--to wish to repair the wrong which you have unwittingly
committed."
Thereupon, after saluting Diane and Gabriel, Jean left the room with
Pierre, who had already begun to ask questions.
When Madame de Castro was left alone with Gabriel, she fell on her knees
in the first impulse of pious gratitude, and raising her eyes and her
hands toward heaven and to him who had been the instrument of her
salvation,--
"I thank Thee, O God!" said she; "thrice over I thank Thee, for having
saved me, and for having saved me by his hand!"