THE VICOMTE DE MONTGOMMERY
Gabriel was attended as he had been on his return from Italy by four of
his people,--Ambroise, Lactance, Yvonnet, and Pilletrousse,--who bore
the English flags; but they came no farther than the threshold.
The youth himself held in both hands a velvet cushion, upon which were
two letters and the keys of the city.
At this sight Henri's countenance assumed an expression of joy and fear
curiously blended.
He thought that he understood the welcome message, but the stern
messenger made him anxious.
"Vicomte d'Exmès!" he muttered, as he saw Gabriel slowly approaching
him.
Madame de Poitiers and the constable, exchanging looks of consternation,
also faltered beneath their breath.
"Vicomte d'Exmès!"
Gabriel, meanwhile, with a grave and solemn mien, kneeled before the
king, and said with a firm, clear voice,--
"Sire, here are the keys of the city of Calais, which was surrendered to
Monsieur de Guise by the English, after a siege of seven days and three
fierce assaults, and which Monsieur has made haste to deliver to your
Majesty."
"Calais is ours?" asked the king, although he had heard and understood
perfectly.
"Calais is yours, Sire," Gabriel repeated.
"_Vive le roi_!" with one accord cried all who were present, with the
possible exception of the Constable de Montmorency.
Henri II., who could think of nothing now but his vanished fears and the
glorious triumph of his arms, saluted the excited assemblage with
radiant face.
"Thanks, Messieurs, thanks!" said he; "I accept your congratulations in
the name of France. But they should not be addressed to me alone; it is
but fair that the better part of them should be reserved for the gallant
leader of the undertaking,--my noble cousin, Monsieur de Guise."
Murmurs of approbation were heard throughout the assemblage; but the
time had not yet arrived when any one dared to cry, "Vive le Duc de
Guise," in the king's presence.
"In our dear cousin's absence," continued Henri, "we are happy in being
able to address our thanks and congratulations to you who represent him
here, Monsieur le Cardinal de Lorraine, and to you, Monsieur le Vicomte
d'Exmès, whom he has intrusted with this glorious and honorable
commission."
"Sire," said Gabriel, respectfully but firmly, as he inclined his head
in acknowledgment of the king's words, "Sire, your pardon, but I am no
longer called Vicomte d'Exmès."
"What!" exclaimed Henri, with a frown.
"Sire," Gabriel continued, "since the day that Calais fell, I have felt
justified in assuming my real name and my true title,--Vicomte de
Montgommery."
At that name, which for so many years had not been pronounced at court
save in whispers, there was a veritable explosion of surprise among the
bystanders. This youth styled himself Vicomte de Montgommery; then the
Comte de Montgommery, his father, doubtless must still be alive! What
was the significance of the revival of that name, once so renowned,
after so long a disappearance?
The king did not hear these comments, which were quite inaudible, but he
had no difficulty in divining their import; he had become paler than his
Italian strawberries, and his lips were trembling with impatience and
indignation.
Madame de Poitiers was also in a tremor; and the constable in his corner
had emerged from his gloomy impassiveness, and his roving look had
become fixed.
"What do you mean, Monsieur?" returned the king, in a tone which he
found great difficulty in keeping within bounds. "What is this name
which you venture to assume, and whence do you derive so much
imprudence?"
"The name is mine, Sire," said Gabriel, calmly; "and what your Majesty
regards as imprudence is only confidence."
It was evident that Gabriel had determined to enter boldly upon the
course he had adopted, to risk all that he might gain all, and to make
all hesitation or avoidance of the issue impossible for the king as well
as for himself.
Henri understood his words in that sense; but he dreaded the
consequences of his own wrath, and so he replied, in order to postpone
the outburst which he feared,--
"Your personal affairs may be attended to later, Monsieur; but at
present be good enough to remember that you are the messenger of
Monsieur de Guise. I think you have not yet fully executed your
commission."
"That is true," said Gabriel, with a low bow. "I have still to present
to your Majesty the flags conquered from the English. Behold them, Sire!
Furthermore, Monsieur le Duc de Guise sends this letter to the king."
He presented Le Balafré's letter upon the cushion. The king took it,
broke the seal, tore open the envelope, and said to the cardinal as he
passed the letter to him,--
"To you, Monsieur le Cardinal, rightly belongs the pleasure of reading
aloud your brother's letter. It is not addressed to the king, but to
France."
"What, Sire!" said the cardinal, "does your Majesty really wish--"
"It is my desire, Monsieur le Cardinal, that you should accept the honor
which is your due."
Charles de Lorraine bowed, and took the letter respectfully from the
king's hands, unfolded it, and amid profound silence read what
follows:--
"SIRE,--Calais is in our power; we have wrested in one week from the
English a city which cost them a year's siege two centuries ago.
"Guines and Ham, the last two posts which are still in their possession
in France, can now hold out but a short time; and I venture to promise
your Majesty that within a fortnight our hereditary enemies will have
been definitely expelled from the kingdom.
"I thought it my duty to be generous to the conquered. They gave up
their artillery and their supplies; but the terms of capitulation to
which I gave my assent allowed all such inhabitants of Calais as might
so desire to withdraw", with their property, to England. Indeed, perhaps
it would have been hazardous to leave so potent an element of discord in
a newly-captured city.
"The number of dead and wounded is very small, thanks to the rapidity
with which the place was carried.
"Time and leisure fail me, Sire, to furnish your Majesty with more ample
details to-day. Being myself seriously wounded--"
At this point the cardinal turned pale, and ceased to read.
"What, our cousin wounded!" cried the king, feigning anxiety.
"Your Majesty and your Eminence may be reassured," said Gabriel.
"Monsieur le Duc de Guise's wound will have no serious results, thank
God! At present there remains of its effects nought but a noble scar
upon his face and the glorious surname of _Le Balafré_."
The cardinal had meanwhile read a few lines in advance, and convinced
himself that what Gabriel said was true, and with renewed calmness
resumed his reading as follows:--
"Being myself seriously wounded the very day of our entry into Calais, I
was saved by the prompt assistance and marvellous skill of a young
surgeon, Master Ambroise Paré; but I am still very weak, and
consequently obliged to forego the pleasure of writing more at length to
your Majesty.
"You will be able to learn further details from him who brings to you
with this letter the keys of the city, along with the English flags, and
of whom I must say a word to your Majesty before I close.
"For it is not to me, Sire, by any means, that all the honor of this
marvellous capture of Calais belongs. I have striven to contribute to it
with all my power with the aid of our gallant troops; but we owe the
first conception of it, as well as the means of execution and its final
success, to the bearer of this letter, Monsieur le Vicomte d'Exmès--"
"It would appear, Monsieur," the king interposed, addressing Gabriel,
"that our cousin does not yet know you under your new name."
"Sire," replied Gabriel, "I should not have presumed to assume it for
the first time except in your Majesty's presence."
At a sign from the king, the cardinal continued,--
"In fact, I must admit that I had never dreamed of this hold stroke when
Monsieur d'Exmès sought me out at the Louvre, laid bare to me his
sublime project, answered my objections and did away with my doubts, and
finally induced me to undertake this unprecedented exploit, which would
be sufficient of itself, Sire, to make a reign glorious.
"But that is not all. The risks of such a momentous undertaking were not
to be lightly incurred; it was essential that the counsel of long
experience should give its sanction to the dream of ardent courage.
Monsieur d'Exmès provided the means of introducing Monsieur le
Maréchal Strozzi into Calais in disguise, and thus of obtaining
accurate information as to the opportunities of attack and means of
defence. Beyond that, he gave us an exact detailed plan of the ramparts
and fortified positions, so that we made our approaches to Calais with
as much confidence as if the walls had been of glass.
"Before the walls of the city, and in all the assaults, at the Nieullay
fort and the Old Château,--everywhere, in fact, Vicomte d'Exmès, at
the head of a small band, raised at his own expense, performed prodigies
of valor. But on those occasions he was only on a level with many of our
gallant captains, who cannot, in my humble opinion, be surpassed.
Therefore I touch but lightly upon the proofs of gallantry which he
afforded on every occasion, to confine myself to those deeds in which he
stands alone, and without a compeer.
"Thus, the Risbank fort, which at once protected from attack and
afforded free entrance to Calais on the ocean side, would have made it
possible for strong reinforcements from England to be thrown into the
city. In that event we should have been lost,--nay, exterminated; our
gigantic enterprise would have proved a failure, and made us the
laughing-stock of all Europe. The question then was how, without ships,
we could carry a fort which was defended by the ocean? Very well!
Vicomte d'Exmès performed that miracle. In the night-time, alone with
his volunteers upon a little boat, aided by a secret understanding with
certain parties within the walls, he succeeded, after a hazardous voyage
and an escalading feat terrible to think of, in planting the French flag
upon that impregnable fort."
At this point, notwithstanding the king's presence, the reading was
interrupted for a moment by a murmur of admiration which nothing could
restrain, and which burst from that assemblage of illustrious and
valiant men as if it were the irresistible expression of the feeling of
all hearts.
Gabriel's bearing, as he stood with lowered eyes, calm and dignified and
modest, two or three paces from the king, added to the favorable
impression caused by the narration of his exploit, and attracted the
admiration of the young women and the old soldiers at once.
The king, too, was touched; and the glance which he gave the hero of
this glorious adventure showed signs of a softer feeling for him. Madame
de Poitiers alone bit her colorless lips, while Monsieur de Montmorency
knit his thick eyebrows savagely.
The cardinal, after this brief interruption, resumed the reading of his
brother's letter.
"The Risbank fort once won, the city was ours. The English men-of-war
did not dare to risk a hopeless attack. Three days after, we entered
Calais in triumph, sustained even then by a well-planned diversion by
Monsieur d'Exmès's allies in the city, and by a vigorous sortie which
he himself led.
"It was in this final struggle, Sire, that I received the terrible wound
which almost cost me my life; and if I may be allowed to call attention
to a service personal to myself amid so many public services, I will add
that Monsieur d'Exmès, almost by force, brought to what nearly proved
to be my death-bed Master Paré, the surgeon who saved my life."
"Oh, Monsieur, let me thank you in my turn," said Charles de Lorraine,
interrupting himself, with deep emotion.
Then he resumed with even more warmth and vigor of expression, as if it
were his brother himself who was speaking.
"Sire, the honor and credit of such brilliant success is commonly
awarded to the one under whose leadership it has been achieved. Monsieur
d'Exmès, first of all, as modest as he is great, would freely consent
that his name should be lost to sight in favor of mine. Nevertheless, I
have deemed it proper to apprise your Majesty that the youth who hands
you this letter has in fact been both the head and the arm of our
enterprise, and that, except for him, Calais, where I am at this moment
writing, would still be an English city. Monsieur d'Exmès has requested
me to make this declaration, if I were willing, to the king's ear
alone,--but to be sure to make it to him. It is that which I now do, in
a voice loud with gratitude and joy.
"It was no more than my duty to give Monsieur d'Exmès this honorable
certificate. The rest is for you, Sire. It is a right which I envy you,
but which I cannot usurp, nor do I wish to do so. It seems to me that
the gift of a reconquered city and the assurance of the integrity of a
kingdom can hardly be paid for with presents.
"It would appear, however, from what Monsieur d'Exmès has told me, that
your Majesty has in your hands a prize worthy of his achievement. I can
well believe it, Sire; but none but a king--yea, none but a great king
like your Majesty--can bestow upon such a kingly exploit any reward
approximate to its value.
"With this, Sire, I pray God to grant you a long life and a happy reign.
"And I am your Majesty's
"Most humble and obedient servant and subject,
"FRANÇOIS DE LORRAINE.
"_Given at Calais, this 8th January_, 1558."
When Charles de Lorraine had finished his reading and restored the
letter to the king's hands, the movement of approbation, which expressed
the restrained congratulation of the whole court, manifested itself
anew, and once more made Gabriel's heart leap with joy, mightily moved
as he was despite his apparent calmness. If respect for the king's
presence had not imposed bounds upon their enthusiasm, the young
conqueror would doubtless have been welcomed most warmly and with
unstinted applause.
The king instinctively felt this general impulse; moreover, he partook
of it to some extent, and he could not refrain from saying to Gabriel,
as if he had been the interpreter of the unexpressed feeling of all,--
"It is well, Monsieur! You have done exceedingly well! I earnestly hope
that, as Monsieur de Guise gives me to understand, it may really be in
our power to recompense you in a manner worthy of yourself and of me."
"Sire," replied Gabriel, "I have but one ambition, and your Majesty well
knows what that--"
But as Henri made an expressive gesture, he hastened to add,--
"Pardon me, Sire, but my commissions are not yet fully executed."
"What remains for you to do?" asked the king.
"Sire, a letter from Madame de Castro for your Majesty."
"From Madame de Castro?" repeated Henri, eagerly.
With a quick and impulsive movement, he rose from his seat, and
descended the steps which led to the royal platform, took Diane's letter
with his own hands, and said in a low tone to Gabriel,--
"It is true, Monsieur, you not only restore a daughter to the king, but
a child to her father. I am doubly indebted to you. But let me read the
letter."
As the courtiers, still motionless and mute, were respectfully awaiting
the king's commands, Henri, feeling annoyed by this observant silence,
added aloud,--
"Let me not restrain the expression of your gratification, Messieurs. I
have no further news to give you; what remains is a private matter
between myself and the messenger of our cousin De Guise. So you have
only to discuss the glad intelligence, and congratulate yourselves upon
it; and you are quite free now to do so, Messieurs."
The royal permission was quickly accepted; the party separated into
groups and began to converse, and soon nothing was to be heard but the
indistinct and confused buzzing which is always the combined result of a
hundred different conversations in the same room.
Madame de Poitiers and the constable still thought of nothing but
keeping watch upon the king and Gabriel.
With an interchange of speaking glances, they had communicated their
mutual dread to one another; and Diane, by a slight and almost
imperceptible movement, had drawn near her royal lover.
Henri did not notice the jealous couple, being entirely absorbed by his
daughter's letter.
"Dear Diane! Poor dear Diane!" he was whispering, deeply moved.
When he had read the letter to the end, carried away by his kingly
nature, whose first, spontaneous impulse was certainly liberal and just,
he said to Gabriel, almost aloud, "Madame de Castro also commends her
liberator to me, and it is just that she should. She tells me, Monsieur,
that you not only rescued her from captivity, but that you have also
saved her honor."
"Oh, I but did my duty, Sire!" said Gabriel.
"Then must I not fail in mine," returned Henri, warmly. "It is for you
to speak now, Monsieur. Tell me what you desire at our hands, _Monsieur
le Vicomte de Montgommery_!"