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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d4966b9 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51352 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51352) diff --git a/old/51352-8.txt b/old/51352-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 7169abe..0000000 --- a/old/51352-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,17788 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's Agnes Sorel, by G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford James) - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Agnes Sorel - A Novel - -Author: G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford James) - -Release Date: March 5, 2016 [EBook #51352] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AGNES SOREL *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by -Google Books (the New York Public Library) - - - - - - - - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - 1. Page scan source: - https://books.google.com/books?id=h9ghAAAAMAAJ - (the New York Public Library) - 2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe]. - - - - - - -AGNES SOREL. - -A Novel - - - - -BY G. P. R. JAMES, ESQ., - -AUTHOR OF -"LIFE OF VICISSITUDES," "PEQUINILLO," "THE FATE," "AIMS AND -OBSTACLES," "HENRY SMEATON," "THE WOODMAN," &c., &c., &c. - - - - -NEW YORK: -HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, -329 & 331 PEARL STREET, -FRANKLIN SQUARE. -1864. - - - - - - -Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight -hundred and fifty-three, by - -GEORGE P. R. JAMES, - -in the Office of the Clerk of the District Court of the Southern -District of New York. - - - - - - -TO - -MAUNSELL B. FIELD, ESQ., - -NOT ONLY AS THE COMPANION OF SOME OF MY LITERARY LABORS, BUT -AS MY DEAR FRIEND; NOT ONLY AS A GENTLEMAN AND A MAN -OF HONOR, BUT AS A MAN OF GENIUS AND OF FEELING; -NOT ONLY AS ONE WHO DOES HONOR TO HIS OWN -COUNTRY, BUT AS ONE WHO WOULD DO -HONOR TO ANY, - -This Book is Dedicated, with sincere Regard, - -BY G. P. R. JAMES. - - - - - - -AGNES SOREL. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - - -How strange the sensation would be, how marvelously interesting the -scene, were we to wake up from some quiet night's rest and find -ourselves suddenly transported four or five hundred years back--living -and moving among the men of a former age! - -To pass from the British fortress of Gibraltar, with drums and fifes, -red coats and bayonets, in a few hours, to the coast of Africa, and -find one's self surrounded by Moors and male petticoats, turbans and -cimeters, is the greatest transition the world affords at present; but -it is nothing to that of which I speak. How marvelously interesting -would it be, also, not only to find one's self brought in close -contact with the customs, manners, and characteristics of a former -age, with all our modern notions strong about us, but to be met at -every turn by thoughts, feelings, views, principles, springing out of -a totally different state of society, which have all passed away, and -moldered, like the garments in which at that time men decorated -themselves. - -Such, however, is the leap which I wish the reader to take at the -present moment; and--although I know it to be impossible for him to -divest himself of all those modern impressions which are a part of his -identity--to place himself with me in the midst of a former period, -and to see himself surrounded for a brief space with the people, and -the things, and the thoughts of the fifteenth century. - -Let me premise, however, in this prefatory chapter, that the object of -an author, in the minute detail of local scenery and ancient customs, -which he is sometimes compelled to give, and which are often objected -to by the animals with long ears that browse on the borders of -Parnassus, is not so much to show his own learning in antiquarian -lore, as to imbue his reader with such thoughts and feelings as may -enable him to comprehend the motives of the persons acting before his -eyes, and the sensations, passions, and prejudices of ages passed -away. Were we to take an unsophisticated rustic, and baldly tell him, -without any previous intimation of the habits of the time, that the -son of a king of England one day went out alone--or, at best, with a -little boy in his company--all covered over with iron; that he betook -himself to a lone and desolate pass in the mountains, traversed by a -high road, and sat upon horseback by the hour together, with a spear -in his hand, challenging every body who passed to fight him, the -unsophisticated rustic would naturally conclude that the king's son -was mad, and would expect to hear of him next in Bedlam, rather than -on the throne of England. I let any one tell him previously of the -habits, manners, and customs of those days, and the rustic--though he -may very well believe that the whole age was mad--will understand and -appreciate the motives of the individual, saying to himself, "This man -was not a bit madder than the rest." - -However, this book is not intended to be a mere painting of the -customs of the fifteenth century, but rather a picture of certain -characters of that period, dressed somewhat in the garb of the times, -and moved by those springs of action which influenced men in the age -to which I refer. It has been said, and justly, that human nature is -the same in all ages; but as a musical instrument will produce many -different tones, according to the hand which touches it, so will human -nature present many different aspects, according to the influences by -which it is affected. At all events, I claim a right to play my own -tune upon my violin, and what skills it if that tune be an air of the -olden times. No one need listen who does not like it. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - - -There was a small, square room, of a very plain, unostentatious -appearance, in the turret of a tall house in the city of Paris. The -walls were of hewn stone, without any decoration whatever, except -where at the four sides, and nearly in the centre of each, appeared a -long iron arm, or branch, with a socket at the end of it, curved and -twisted in a somewhat elaborate manner, and bearing some traces of -having been gilt in a former day. The ceiling was much more decorated -than the walls, and was formed by two groined arches of stone-work, -crossing each other in the middle, and thus forming, as it were, four -pointed arches, the intervals between one mass of stone-work and -another being filled up with dark-colored oak, much after the fashion -of a cap in a coronet. The spot where the arches crossed was -ornamented with a richly-carved pendant, or corbel, in the centre of -which was embedded a massive iron hook, probably intended to sustain a -large lamp, while the iron sockets protruding from the walls were -destined for flambeaux or lanterns. The floor was of stone, and a rude -mat of rushes was spread over about one eighth of the surface, toward -the middle of the room, where stood a table of no very large -dimensions, covered with a great pile of papers and a few manuscript -books. No lamp hung from the ceiling; no lantern or flambeau cast its -light from the walls as had undoubtedly been the case in earlier -times: the tall, quaint-shaped window, besides being encumbered by a -rich tracery of stone-work, could not admit even the moonbeams through -the thick coat of dust that covered its panes, and the only light -which that room received was afforded by a dull oil lamp upon the -table, without glass or shade. All the furniture looked dry and -withered, as it were, and though solid enough, being balkily formed of -dark oak, presented no ornament whatever. It was, in short, an -uncomfortable-looking apartment enough, having a ruinous and -dilapidated appearance, without any of the picturesqueness of decay. -Under the table lay a large, brindled, rough-haired dog, of the -stag-hound breed, but cruelly docked of his tail, in accordance with -some code of forest laws, which at that time were very numerous and -very various in different parts of France, but all equally unjust and -severe. Apparently he was sound asleep as dog could be; but we all -know that a dog's sleep is not as profound as a metaphysician's dream, -and from time to time he would raise his head a little from his -crossed paws, and look slightly up toward the legs of a person seated -at the table. - -Now those legs--to begin at the unusual end of a portrait--were -exceedingly handsome, well-shaped legs, indeed, evidently appertaining -to a young man on the flowery side of maturity. There was none of the -delicate, rather unsymmetrical straightness of the mere boy about -them, nor the over-stout, balustrade-like contour of the sturdy man of -middle age. Nor did the rest of the figure belie their promise, for it -was in all respects a good one, though somewhat lightly formed, except -the shoulders, indeed, which were broad and powerful, and the chest, -which was wide and expansive. The face was good, though not strictly -handsome, and the expression was frank and bright, yet with a certain -air of steady determination in it which is generally conferred by the -experience of more numerous years than seemed to have passed over that -young and unwrinkled brow. - -The dress of the young scribe--for he was writing busily--was in -itself plain, though not without evident traces of care and attention -in its device and adjustment. The shoes were extravagantly long, and -drawn out to a very acute point, and the gray sort of mantle, with -short sleeves, which he wore over his ordinary hose and jerkin, had, -at the collar, and at the end of those short sleeves, a little strip -of fur--a mark, possibly, of gentle birth, for sumptuary laws, always -ineffectual, were issued from time to time, during all the earlier -periods of the French monarchy, and generally broken as soon as -issued. - -There was no trace of beard upon the chin. The upper lip itself was -destitute of the manly mustache, and the hair, combed back from the -forehead, and lying in smooth and glossy curls upon the back of the -neck, gave an appearance almost feminine to the head, which was -beautifully set upon the shoulders. The broad chest already mentioned, -however, the long, sinewy arms, and the strong brown hand which held -the pen, forbade all suspicion that the young writer was a fair lady -in disguise, although that was a period in the world's history when -the dames of France were not overscrupulous in assuming any character -which might suit their purposes for the time. - -There was a good deal of noise and bustle in the streets of Paris, as -men with flambeaux in their hands walked on before some great lord of -the court, calling "Place! place!" to clear the way for their master -as he passed; or as a merry party of citizens returned, laughing and -jesting, from some gay meeting; or as a group of night-ramblers walked -along, insulting the ear of night with cries, and often with -blasphemies; or as lays and songs were trolled up from the corners of -the streets by knots of persons, probably destitute of any other home, -assembled round the large bonfires, lighted to give warmth to the -shivering poor--for it was early in the winter of the great frost of -one thousand four hundred and seven, and the miseries of the land were -great. Still, the predominant sounds were those of joy and revelry; -for the people of Paris were the same in those days that they are even -now; and joy, festivity, and frolic, then, as in our own days, rolled -and caroled along the highways, while the dust was yet wet with blood, -and wretchedness, destitution, and oppression lurked unseen behind the -walls. No sounds, however, seemed to disturb the lad at his task, or -to withdraw his thoughts for one moment from the subject before him. -Now a loud peal of laughter shook the casement; but still he wrote on. -Now a cry, as if of pain, rang round the room from without, but such -cries were common in those days, and he lifted not his head. And then -again a plaintive song floated on the air, broken only by the striking -of a clock, jarring discordantly with the mellow notes of the air; but -still the pen hurried rapidly over the page, till some minutes after -the hour of nine had struck, when he laid it down with a deep -respiration, as if some allotted task were ended. - -At length the dog which was lying at his feet lifted his head suddenly -and gazed toward the door. The youth was reading over what he had -written, and caught no sound to withdraw his attention; but the beast -was right. There was a step--a familiar step--upon the stair-case, and -the good dog rose up, and walked toward the entrance of the room, just -as the door was opened, and another personage entered upon the scene. - -He was a grave man, of the middle age, tall, well formed, and of a -noble and commanding presence. He was dressed principally in black -velvet, with a gown of that stuff, which was lined with fur, indeed, -though none of that lining was shown externally. On his head he had a -small velvet cap, without any feather, and his hair was somewhat -sprinkled with gray, though in all probability he had not passed the -age of forty. - -"Well, Jean," he said, in a deliberate tone, as he entered the room -with a firm and quiet tread, "how many have you done, my son?" - -"All of them, sir," replied the young man. "I was just reading over -this last letter to Signor Bernardo Baldi, to see that I had made no -mistake." - -"You never mistake, Jean," said the elder man, in a kindly tone; and -then added, thoughtfully, "All? You must have written hard, and -diligently." - -"You told me to have them ready against you returned, sir," said the -youth. - -"Yes, but I have returned an hour before the time," rejoined his elder -companion; and then, as the young man moved away from the chair which -he occupied, in order to leave it vacant for himself, the elder drew -near the table, and, still standing, glanced his eye over some six or -seven letters which lay freshly written, and yet unfolded. It was -evident, however, that though, by a process not uncommon, the mind -might take in, and even investigate, to a certain degree, all that the -eye rested upon, a large part of the thoughts were engaged with other -subjects, and that deeper interests divided the attention of the -reader. - -"There should be a comma there," he said, pointing with his finger, -and at the same time seating himself in the chair. - -The young man took the letter and added the comma; but when he looked -up, his companion's eyes were fixed upon the matting on the floor, and -it was apparent that the letters, and all they contained, had passed -away from his memory. - -The dog rose from the couchant attitude in which he had placed -himself, and laid his shaggy head upon the elder man's knee; and, -patting him quietly, the newcomer said, in a meditative tone, "It is -pleasant to have some one we can trust. Don't you think so, Jean?" - -"It is indeed, sir," replied the young man; "and pleasant to be -trusted." - -"And yet we must sometimes part with those we most trust," continued -the other. "It is sad, but sometimes it is necessary." - -The young man's countenance fell a little, but he made no reply, and -the other, looking toward the wide fire-place, remarked, "You have let -the fire go out, Jean, and these are not days in which one can afford -to be without warmth." - -The young man gathered the embers together, threw on some logs of -wood, and both he and his companion mused for several minutes without -speaking a word. At length the youth seemed to summon sudden courage, -and said, abruptly, "I hope you are not thinking of parting with me, -sir. I have endeavored to the utmost to do my duty toward you well, -and you have never had occasion to find fault; though perhaps your -kindness may have prevented you from doing so, even when there was -occasion." - -"Not so, not so, my son," replied the other, warmly; "there has been -no fault, and consequently no blame. Nay more, I promised you, if you -fulfilled all the tasks I set you well, never to part with you but for -your own advantage. The time has come, however, when it is necessary -to part with you, and I must do so for your own sake." - -There was a dead silence for a moment or two, and then the elder man -laid his finger quietly on the narrow strip of fur that bordered his -companion's dress, saying, with a slight smile, "You are of noble -blood, Jean, and I am a mere bourgeois." - -"I can easily strip that off, if it offends you, sir," replied the -young man, giving him back his smile. "It is soon done away." - -"But not the noble blood, Jean," answered his companion; "and this -occupation is not fitted for you." - -An air of deep and anxious grief spread over the young man's face, and -he answered earnestly, "There is nothing derogatory in it, sir. To -write your letters, to transact any honorable business which you may -intrust to me, can not in any way degrade me, and you know right well -that it was from no base or ignoble motive that I undertook the task. -My mother's poverty is no stain upon our honorable blood, nor surely -can her son's efforts be so to change that poverty into competence." - -His companion smiled upon him kindly, saying, "Far from it, Jean; but -still, if there be an opportunity of your effecting your object in a -course more consonant with your birth and station, it is my duty as -your friend to seize it for you. Such an opportunity now presents -itself, and you must take advantage of it. It may turn out well; I -trust it will; but, should the reverse be the case--for in these -strange, unsettled times, those who stand the highest have most to -fear a fall--if the reverse should be the case, I say, you will always -find a resource in Jacques C[oe]ur; his house, his purse, his -confidence will be always open to you. Put on your chaperon, then, and -come with me: for Fortune, like Time, should always be taken by the -forelock. The jade is sure to kick if we get behind her." - -The young man took down one of the large hoods in which it was still -customary, for the bourgeoisie especially, to envelop their heads, -when walking in the streets of Paris. Beneath it, however, he placed a -small cap, fitting merely the crown of the head, and over the sort of -tunic he wore he cast a long mantle, for the weather was very cold. -When fully accoutered, he ventured to ask where Maître C[oe]ur was -going to take him; but the good merchant answered with a smile, "Never -mind, my son, never mind. If we succeed as I expect, you will soon -know; if not, there is no need you should. Come with me, Jean, and -trust to me." - -"Right willingly," replied the young man, and followed him. - -The house was a large and handsome house, as things went at that time -in Paris; but the stair-case was merely one of those narrow, twisting -spirals which we rarely see, except in cathedrals or ruined castles, -in the present times. Windows to that stair-case there were none, and -in the daytime the manifold steps received light only through a -loophole here and there; for in those days it was not at all -inconvenient for the owner, even of a very modest mansion, to have the -means of ascending and descending from one part of his house to the -other, without the danger of being struck by the arrows which were -flying somewhat too frequently in the streets of Paris. At night, a -lantern, guarded by plates of horn from the cold blasts through the -loopholes, shed a faint and twinkling ray, at intervals of ten or -twelve yards, upon the steps. But Jacques C[oe]ur and his young -companion were both well acquainted with the way, and were soon at the -little door which opened into the court-yard. Jean Charost looked -round for the merchant's mule, as they issued forth; but no mule was -there, nor any attendant in waiting; and Jacques C[oe]ur drawing his -cloak more tightly around him, walked straight out of the gates, and -along the narrow streets, unlighted by any thing but the pale stars -shining dimly in the wintery sky. - -The merchant walked fast, and Jean Charost followed a step behind: not -without some curiosity: not without some of that palpitating anxiety -which, with the young, generally precedes an unexpected change of -life, yet with a degree, at least, of external calmness which nothing -but very early discipline in the hard school of the world could give. -It seemed to him, indeed, that his companion intended to traverse the -whole city of Paris; for, directing his course toward the quarter of -St. Antoine, he paused not during some twenty minutes, except upon one -occasion, when, just as they were entering one of the principal -streets, half a dozen men, carrying torches, came rapidly along, -followed by two or three on horseback, and several on foot. Jacques -C[oe]ur drew back into the shadow, and brought his cloak closer round -him; but the moment the cavalcade had passed he walked on again, -saying in a whisper, "That is the Marquis de Giac, a favorite of the -Duke of Burgundy--or, rather, the husband of the duke's favorite. He -owes me a thousand crowns, and, consequently, loves not to see me in -his way." - -Five minutes more brought them to a large stone wall, having two -towers, almost like those of a church, one at either end, and a great -gate with a wicket near the centre. Monasteries were more common than -bee-hives in Paris in those days, and Jean Charost would have taken no -notice of the wall, or of a large, dull-looking building rising up -behind it, had it not been that a tall man, clad apparently in a long -gray gown, rushed suddenly up to the gate, just as the two men were -passing, and rang the bell violently. He seemed to hold something -carefully on his left arm; but his air was wild and hurried, and -Jacques C[oe]ur murmured, as they passed, "Alas, alas! 'Tis still the -same, all over the world." - -Jean Charost did not venture to ask the meaning of his comment, but -looked up and marked the building well, following still upon the -merchant's rapid steps; and a short distance further on the great -towers of the Bastile came in sight, looking over the lesser buildings -in the front. - -Before they reached the open space around the fortress, however, the -street expanded considerably, and at its widest point, appeared upon -the left a large and massive edifice, surrounded by walls of heavy -masonry, battlemented and machicolated, with four small, flanking -towers at the corners. In the centre of this wall, as in the case of -the monastery, was a large gateway; but the aspect of this entrance -was very different from that of the entrance to the religious -building. Here was an archway with battlements above, and windows in -the masonry looking out on the street. A parapetted gallery, too, of -stone-work, from which a porter or warden could speak with any one -applying for admission, without opening the gate, ran along just above -the arch. - -No great precaution, however, seemed to be in force at the moment of -Jacques C[oe]ur's approach. The gate was open, though not unguarded; -for two men, partly armed, were lolling at the entrance, -notwithstanding the coldness of the night. Behind the massy chains, -too, which ran along the whole front line of the wall, solidly riveted -into strong stone posts, cutting off a path of about five feet in -width from the street, were eight or nine men and young lads, some -well armed, almost as if for war, and some dressed in gay and -glittering apparel of a softer texture. The night, as I have said, was -in sooth very cold; but yet the air before the building received some -artificial warmth from a long line of torches, blazing high in iron -sockets projecting from the walls, which looked grim and frowning in -the glare. - -At the gates Jacques C[oe]ur stopped short, and let his mantle fall a -little, so as to show his face. One of the men under the arch stared -at him, and took a step forward, as if to inquire his business, but -the other nodded his head, saying, "Good evening, again, Maître -Jacques. Pass in. You will find Guillot at the door." - -"Come, Jean," said Jacques C[oe]ur, turning to his young companion; -and passing under the arch, they entered a small piece of ground laid -out apparently as a garden; for the light of some lanterns, scattered -here and there, showed a number of trees planted in even rows, in the -midst of which rose a palace of a much lighter and more graceful style -of architecture than the stern and heavy-looking defenses on the -street could have led any one to expect. A flight of steps led up from -the garden to a deep sort of open entrance-hall, where a light was -burning, showing a door of no very great size, surrounded with -innumerable delicate moldings of stone. To the door was fastened, by a -chain, a large, heavy iron ring, deeply notched all along the internal -circle, and by its side hung a small bar of steel, which, when run -rapidly over these notches, produced a loud sound, not altogether -unmusical. To this instrument of sound Jacques C[oe]ur applied -himself, and the door was immediately opened from within. - -"Come in, Maître Jacques," said a man of almost gigantic height. "Come -in; the duke is waiting for you in the little hall." - - - - -CHAPTER III. - - -Passing through a small and narrow hall, Jacques C[oe]ur and his -companion ascended a flight of six or seven steps, and then entered, -by a door larger than that which communicated with the garden, a -vestibule of very splendid proportions. - -It must be remembered that the arts were at that time just at the -period of their second birth in Europe; the famous fifteenth century -had just begun, and a true taste for the beautiful, in every thing -except architecture, was confined to the breasts of a few. Cimabue, -Giotto, Hubert van Eyk, and John of Bruges had already appeared; but -the days of Leonardo, of Raphael, of Michael Angelo, of Giorgione, and -of Correggio were still to come. Nevertheless, the taste for both -painting and sculpture was rapidly extending in all countries, and -especially in France, which, though it never produced a great man in -either branch of art, had always an admiration of that which is fine -when produced by others. It was with astonishment and delight, then, -that Jean Charost, who had never in his life before seen any thing -that deserved the name of a painting, except a fresco here and there, -and the miniature illuminations of missals and psalm books, beheld the -vestibule surrounded on every side with pictures which appeared to him -perfection itself, and which probably would have even presented to our -eyes many points of excellence, unattained or unattainable by our own -contemporaries. Though the apartment was well lighted, he had no time -to examine the treasures it contained; for Jacques C[oe]ur, more -accustomed to such scenes himself, and with his mind fully occupied by -other thoughts, hurried straight across to a wide, two-winged -stair-case of black oak, at the further end of the vestibule, and -ascended the steps at a rapid rate. - -The young man followed through a long corridor, plainly furnished, -till his guide stopped and knocked at a door on the right hand side. A -voice from within exclaimed, "Come in;" and when Jacques C[oe]ur -opened the door, Jean Charost found himself at the entrance of a room -and in the presence of a person requiring some description. - -The little hall, as it was called, was a large vaulted chamber about -forty feet in length, and probably twenty-six or twenty-eight in -width. It was entirely lined with dark-colored wood, and the pointed -arch of the roof, really or apparently supported by highly ornamented -wood-work, was of the same material. All along the walls, however, -upheld by rings depending from long arms of silver, were wide sheets -of tapestry, of an ancient date, but full of still brilliant colors; -and projecting from between these, at about six feet from the ground, -were a number of other silver brackets supporting sconces of the same -metal. Large straight-backed benches were arranged along the walls, -touching the tapestry; but there was only one table in the room, on -which stood a large candelabra of two lights, each supporting a wax -taper or candle, not much inferior in size to those set upon the altar -by Roman Catholics, and by those who repudiate the name, but follow -the practices, of Rome--the mongrel breed, who have not the courage to -confess themselves converted, yet have turned tail upon their former -faith, and the faith of their ancestors. - -At this table was seated, with paper, and pen, and ink before him--not -unemployed even at that moment--a man of the middle age, of a very -striking and interesting appearance. As none of the sconces were -lighted, and the candelabra before him afforded the only light which -the room received, he sat in the midst of a bright spot, surrounded -almost by darkness, and, though Heaven knows, no saint, looking like -the picture of a saint in glory. His face and figure might well have -afforded a subject for the pencil; for not only was he handsome in -feature and in form, but there was an indescribable charm of -expression about his countenance, and a marvelous grace in his -person which characterized both, even when in profound repose. We are -too apt to confine the idea of grace to action. Witness a sleeping -child--witness the Venus de Medici--witness the Sappho of Dannecker. -At all other times it is evanescent, shifting, and changing, like the -streamers of the Aurora Borealis. But in calm stillness, thought can -dwell upon it; the mind can take it in, read it, and ponder upon its -innate meaning, as upon the page of some ever-living book, and not -upon the mere hasty word spoken by some passing stranger. - -He was writing busily, and had apparently uttered the words, "Come -in," without ever looking up; but the moment after Jacques C[oe]ur and -his young companion had entered, the prince--for he could be nothing -else but a prince, let republicans say what they will--lifted his -speaking eyes and looked forward. - -"Oh, my friend," he said, seeing the great merchant; "come hither. I -have been anxiously waiting for you." - -Jacques C[oe]ur advanced to within a few paces, while the other still -kept his seat, and Jean Charost followed a step or two behind. - -"Well, what news do you bring me?" asked the prince, lowering his tone -a little; "good, I hope. Come, say you have changed your resolution! -Why should a merchant's resolutions be made of sterner stuff than a -woman's, or the moon's, or man's, or any other of the light things -that inhabit this earth, or whirl around it? Faith, my good friend, -the most beneficent of things are always changing. If the Sun himself -stuck obstinately to one point, we should be scorched by summer heat, -and blinded by too much light. But come, come; to speak seriously, -this is absolutely needful to me--you are a friend--a good friend--a -well-wisher to your country and myself. Say you have changed your -mind." - -All this time he had continued seated, while Jacques C[oe]ur, without -losing any of that dignity of carriage which distinguished him, stood -near, with his velvet cap in his hand, and with an air of respect and -deference. "I have told your highness," he replied, bowing his head -reverently, "that I can not do it--that it is impossible." - -The other started up from the table with some impetuosity. -"Impossible?" he exclaimed. "What, would you have me believe that you, -reputed the most wealthy merchant of all these realms, can not -yourself, or among your friends, raise the small sum I require in a -moment of great need? No, no. Say rather that your love for Louis of -Orleans has grown cold, or that you doubt his power of repaying -you--that you think fortune is against him--that you believe there is -a destiny that domineers over his. But say not that it is impossible." - -"My lord duke, I repeat," replied Jacques C[oe]ur, in a tone which had -a touch of sorrow in it, "I repeat, that it is impossible; not that my -affection for your service has grown cold--not that I believe the -destiny of any one in these realms can domineer over that of the -brother of my king--not that I have not the money, or could not obtain -it in Paris in an hour. Nay, more, I will own I have it, as by your -somewhat unkind words, mighty prince, you drive me to tell you how it -is impossible. I would have fain kept my reasons in respectful -silence; but perhaps, after all, those reasons may be better to you -than my gold." - -"Odd's life, but not so substantial," replied the Duke of Orleans, -with a smile, seating himself again, and adding, "speak on, speak on; -for if we can not have one good thing, it is well to have another; and -I know your reasons are always excellent, Maître Jacques." - -"Suppose, my lord," replied Jacques C[oe]ur, "that this wealth of mine -is bound up in iron chests, with locks of double proof, and I have -lost the key." - -"Heaven's queen, send for a blacksmith, and dash the chests to -pieces," said the Duke of Orleans, with a laugh. - -"Such, perhaps, is the way his highness of Burgundy would deal with -them," replied Jacques C[oe]ur. "But you, sir, think differently, I -believe. But let me explain to you that the chests--these iron chests, -are conscience--the locks, faith and loyalty--the only key that can -open them, conviction. But to leave all allegories, my lord duke, I -tell your highness frankly, that did you ask this sum for your own -private need, my love and affection to your person would bid me throw -my fortune wide before you, and say, 'Take what you will.' But when -you tell me, and I know that your object is, with this same wealth of -mine, to levy war in this kingdom, and tear the land with the strife -of faction, I tell you I have not the key, and say it is impossible. I -say it is impossible for me, with my convictions, to let you have this -money for such purposes." - -"Now look you here," cried the Duke of Orleans; "how these good men -will judge of matters that they know not, and deal with things beyond -their competence! Here, my good friend, you erect yourself into a -judge of my plans, my purposes, and their results--at once testify -against me, and pronounce the judgment." - -"Nay, my good lord, not so," replied Jacques C[oe]ur. "You ask me to -do a thing depending on myself; and many a man would call various -considerations to counsel before he said yea or nay; would ask himself -whether it was convenient, whether there was a likelihood of gain, -whether there was a likelihood of loss, whether he affected your side -or that of Burgundy. Now, so help me Heaven, as not one of these -considerations weighs with me for a moment. I have asked myself but -one question: 'Is this for the good of my country? Is it for the -service of my king?' Your highness laughs, but it is true; and the -answer has been 'No.'" - -"Jacques C[oe]ur, thou art a good and honest man," replied the duke, -laying his hand upon the merchant's sleeve, and looking in his face -gravely; "but you drive me to give you explanations, which I think, as -my friend and favorer, you might have spared. The spendthrift gives -such explanations, summons plausible excuses, and tells a canting tale -of how he came in such a strait, when he goes to borrow money of a -usurer; but methinks such things should have no place between Louis of -Orleans, the king's only brother, and his friend Jacques C[oe]ur." - -"Ah, noble prince," cried the merchant, very much touched. But the -duke did not attend to his words; and, rising from his seat, threw -back his fine and stately head, saying, "The explanation shall be -given, however. I seek not one denier of this money for myself. My -revenues are ample, more than ample for my wishes. My court is a very -humble one, compared with that of Burgundy. But I seek this sum to -enable me to avert dangers from France, which I see coming up -speedily, like storms upon the wind. I need not tell you, Jacques -C[oe]ur, my brother's unhappy state, nor how he, who has ever -possessed and merited the love of all his subjects, is, with rare -intervals, unconscious of his kingly duties. The hand of God takes -from him, during the greater part of life, the power of wielding the -sceptre which it placed within his grasp." - -"I know it well, your highness," replied the merchant. - -"His children are all young, Jacques C[oe]ur," continued the duke; -"and there are but two persons sufficiently near in blood, and eminent -in station, to exercise the authority in the land which slips from the -grasp of the monarch--the Duke of Burgundy and the Duke of Orleans. -The one, though a peer of France and prince of its blood royal, holds -possessions which render him in some sorts a foreigner. Now God forbid -that I should speak ill of my noble cousin of Burgundy; but he is a -man of mighty power, and not without ambition--honorable, doubtless, -but still high-handed and grasping. Burgundy and Flanders, with many a -fair estate and territory besides, make up an almost kingly state, and -I would ask you yourself if he does not well-nigh rule in France -likewise. Hear me out, hear me out! You would say that he has a right -to some influence here, and so he has. But I would have this -_well-nigh_, not _quite_. I pledge you my word that my sole object is -to raise up such a power as to awe my good cousin from too great and -too dangerous enterprises. Were it a question of mere right--whose is -the right to authority here, till the king's children are of an age to -act, but the king's brother? Were it a question of policy--in whom -should the people rely but in him whose whole interests are identified -with this monarchy? Were it a question of judgment--who is so likely -to protect, befriend, and direct aright the children of the king as -the uncle who has fostered their youth, and loved them even as his -own? There is not a man in all France who suspects me of wishing aught -but their good. I fear not the Duke of Burgundy so much as to seek to -banish him from all power and authority in the realm; but I only -desire that his authority should have a counterpoise, in order that -his power may never become dangerous. And now tell me, Jacques -C[oe]ur, whether my objects are such as you can honestly refuse to -aid, remembering that I have used every effort, in a peaceful way, to -induce my cousin of Burgundy to content himself with a lawful and -harmless share of influence." - -"My lord, I stand rebuked," replied Jacques C[oe]ur. "But, if your -highness would permit me, I would numbly suggest that efforts might -strike others, to bring about the happy object you propose, which may -have escaped your attention." - -"Name them--name them," cried the Duke of Orleans, somewhat warmly. -"By heaven's queen, I think I have adopted all that could be devised -by mortal man. Name them, my good friend," he added, in a milder tone. - -"Nay, royal sir," replied Jacques C[oe]ur," it is not for one so -humble as myself to suggest any remedies in such a serious case; but I -doubt not your relatives, the Dukes of Alençon and Berri, and the good -King of Sicily, so near and dear to you, might, in their wisdom, aid -you with advice which would hold your honor secure, promote the -pacification of the realm, and attain the great object that you have -in view." - -The Duke of Orleans made no reply, but walked once or twice up and -down the hall, with his arms folded on his chest, apparently in deep -thought. At length, however, he stopped before Jacques C[oe]ur, and -laid his finger on his breast, saying, in a grave and inquiring tone, -"What would men think of me, my friend, if Louis of Orleans, in a -private quarrel with John of Burgundy, were to call in the soft -counsels of Alençon, of Berri, and Anjou? Would not men say that he -was afraid?" - -The slightest possible smile quivered for an instant on the lips of -Jacques C[oe]ur, but he replied, gravely and respectfully, "First, I -would remark, your highness, that this is not a private quarrel, as I -understand it, but a cause solely affecting the good of the realm." - -The Duke of Orleans smiled also, with a gay, conscious, half-detected -smile; but Jacques C[oe]ur proceeded uninterrupted, saying, "Secondly, -I should boldly answer that men would dare say nothing. The prince who -boldly bearded Henry the Fourth of Lancaster on his usurped throne, to -do battle hand to hand, in the hour of his utmost triumph and -success,[1] could never be supposed afraid of any mortal man. Believe -me, my lord, the thought of fear has never been, and never can be -joined with the name of Louis of Orleans." - -"Ah, Jacques C[oe]ur, Jacques C[oe]ur," replied the prince, laughing, -"art thou a flatterer too?" - -"If so, an honest one," answered the merchant; "and, without daring to -dictate terms to your highness, let me add that, should you--thinking -better of this case--employ the counsels of the noble princes I have -mentioned, and their efforts prove unsuccessful, then, convinced that -the last means for peace have been tried and failed, I shall find my -duty and my wishes reconciled, and the last livre that I have, should -I beg my bread in the streets as a common mendicant, will be freely -offered in your just cause." - -There was a warmth, a truth, a sincerity in the great merchant's words -that seemed to touch his noble auditor deeply. The duke threw himself -into his seat again, and covered his eyes for a moment or two; then, -taking Jacques C[oe]ur's hand, he pressed it warmly, saying, "Thanks, -my friend, thanks. I have urged you somewhat hardly, perhaps, but I -know you wish me well. I believe your advice is good. Pride, vanity, -whatever it is, shall be sacrificed. I will send for my noble cousins, -consult with them, and, if the bloody and disastrous arbitrement of -war can be avoided, it shall be so. Many may bless the man who stayed -it; and although, in their ignorance, they may not add the name of -Jacques C[oe]ur to their prayers, there is a Being who has seen you -step between princes and their wrath, and who himself has said, -'Blessed are the peacemakers.'" - -The duke then leaned his head upon his hand, and fell into thought -again. - -All this time, while a somewhat long and interesting conversation had -been taking place in his presence, Jean Charost had been standing a -few steps behind Jacques C[oe]ur, without moving a limb; and, in -truth, so deeply attentive to all that was passing, that he hardly -ventured to draw a breath. The whole scene was a lesson to him, -however; a lesson never forgot. He saw the condescension and kindness, -the familiar friendship which the brother of the King of France -displayed toward the simple merchant; but he saw, also, that no -familiarity induced Jacques C[oe]ur for one moment to forget respect, -or to abate one tittle of the reverence due to the duke's station. He -saw that it was possible to be bold and firm, even with a royal -personage, and yet to give him no cause of offense, if he were in -heart as noble as in name. Both the principal personages in the room, -however, in the mighty interests involved in their discourse, seemed -to have forgotten his presence altogether; indeed, one of them, -probably, had hardly even perceived him. But at length the duke, -waking up, as it were, from the thoughts which had absorbed him, with -his resolution taken and his course laid out, raised his eyes toward -Jacques C[oe]ur, as if intending to continue the conversation with -some further announcement of his purposes. As he did so, he seemed -suddenly to perceive the figure of Jean Charost, standing in the half -light behind, and he exclaimed, quickly and eagerly, "Ha! who is that? -Who is that young man? Whence came he? What wants he?" - -Jacques C[oe]ur started too; for he had totally forgotten the fact of -his having brought Jean Charost there. For an instant he looked -confused and agitated, but then recovered himself, and replied, "This -is the young gentleman whom I commended to your highness's service. In -the importance of the question you first put to me, I totally forgot -to present him to you." - -The duke gazed in the face of Jean Charost as he advanced a step or -two into the light, seeming to question his countenance closely, and -for a moment there was a slight look of annoyance and anxiety in his -aspect which did not escape the eyes of Jacques C[oe]ur. - -"Sir, I have committed a great fault," he said; "but it might have -been greater; for, although this young gentleman has heard all that we -have said, I will answer for his faith, his honesty, and his -discretion with my life." - -Ere the words were uttered, however, the Duke of Orleans had recovered -himself entirely, and looking up frankly in Jacques C[oe]ur's face, he -answered, "As far as I can recollect our conversation, my good friend, -it contained not one word which either you or I should fear to have -blazoned to the whole realm of France. Come hither, young gentleman. -Are you willing to serve me?" - -"If not willing before, sir," answered Jean Charost, "what I have -heard to-night would make me willing to shed the last drop of my blood -for your highness." - -The duke smiled upon him kindly. "Good," he said; "good. You are of -noble race, my friend tells me." - -"On all sides," answered Jean Charost. "Of the nobility of the sword." - -"Well, then," said the duke, "we will soon find an office for you. Let -me think for a moment--" - -But, ere the words had left his lips, there was a sharp rap at the -door, and, without waiting for permission, a man, dressed as a -superior servant, hurried in, followed by an elderly woman in an -extravagantly high _hennin_--a head-dress of the times--both bearing -eagerness and alarm on their countenance. - -"I am sorry to tell your highness--" cried the man. - -But the duke stopped him, exclaiming, "Hush!" with a look of anxiety -and alarm, and then advanced a step or two toward the newcomers, with -whom he spoke for a few moments in an eager whisper. He then took -several rapid strides toward the door, but paused ere he reached it, -and looking back, almost without stopping, exclaimed, "To-morrow, my -young friend; be with me to-morrow by nine. I will send for you in the -evening, Maître Jacques. I trust then to have news for you. Excuse me -now; something has happened." - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - - -For a moment after the Duke of Orleans had quitted the hall, Jacques -C[oe]ur and his young companion stood looking at each other in -silence; for the agitation which the prince had displayed was far -greater than persons in his rank usually suffered to appear. Those -were the days when strong passions lay concealed under calm exteriors, -and terrible deeds were often meditated and even executed under cover -of the most tranquil aspect. - -"Come, Jean, my friend." said the merchant, at length; "let us go. We -must not pause here with these papers on the table." - -As he spoke, he walked toward the door; but, before he quitted the -house, he sought diligently in the outer vestibule and the neighboring -rooms for some of the domestics. All seemed to be in confusion, -however, and though steps were heard moving about in various -directions, as if some general search were being made, several minutes -elapsed before even a page or a porter could be found. At length a boy -of about twelve years of age presented himself, and him Jacques -C[oe]ur directed, in a tone of authority, to place himself at the door -of the little hall, and neither to go in himself nor let any one enter -till he had an opportunity of letting the duke know that he had left -the papers he was writing on the table. - -"Something has moved his highness very greatly," said Jacques C[oe]ur, -as he walked through the streets with his young companion. "He is not -usually so careless of what he writes." - -"I have always heard him called the gay Duke of Orleans," said Jean -Charost, "and I certainly was surprised to find him so grave and -thoughtful." - -"There are many ways of being thoughtful, my young friend," replied -the merchant, "and a light and smiling air, a playful fancy, and a -happy choice of words, with many persons--as has been the case with -the duke--conceal deep meaning and great strength of mind. He is, -indeed, one of the most thoughtful men in France. But his imagination -is somewhat too strong, and his passions, alas, stronger still. He is -frank, and noble, and generous, however--kind and forgiving; and I do -sincerely believe that he deeply regrets his faults, and condemns them -as much as any man in France. Many are the resolutions of reformation -that he makes; but still an ardent temperament, a light humor, and a -joyous spirit carries him away impulsively, and deeds are done, before -he well knows they are undertaken, which are bitterly repented -afterward." - -Jacques C[oe]ur paused, and seemed to hesitate, as if he thought he -had almost gone too far with his young companion; but there were more -serious considerations pressing upon his mind at that moment than Jean -Charost, or even the Duke of Orleans, at all comprehended, though both -were affected by them. He was one of the most remarkable men of his -age; and although he had not at that time risen to the high point of -either honor or wealth which he afterward attained, he was in the high -road to distinction and to fortune--a road opened to him by no common -means. His vast and comprehensive mind perceived opportunities which -escaped the eyes of men more limited in intellect; his energetic and -persevering character enabled him to grasp and hold them; and, -together with these powers, so serviceable to any man in commercial or -political life, he possessed a still higher characteristic--a kindly -and a generous spirit, prompting to good deeds as well as to great -ones, always under the guidance of prudence and wisdom. He had, -moreover, that which I know not whether to call an art or a -quality--the capability of impressing almost all men with the truth of -his character. Few with whom he was brought in any close connection -doubted his judgment or his sincerity, and his true beneficence of -heart had the power of attaching others to him so strongly that even -persecution, sorrow, and misfortune could not break the bond. - -In the present instance, he had two objects in view in placing Jean -Charost in the service of the Duke of Orleans; or, rather, he saw at -once that two objects might possibly be attained by that kind act. He -had provided, apparently, well and happily for a youth to whom he was -sincerely attached, and whom he could entirely trust, and he placed -near a prince for whom he had a great regard and some admiration, -notwithstanding all his faults, one whose character was likely to be -not without its influence, even upon a person far higher in station -and more brilliant as well as more experienced than himself. - -Although he had full confidence in Jean Charost--although he knew that -there was an integrity of purpose, and a vigor of determination in the -youth, well fitted to stand all trials, he nevertheless thought that -some warning, some knowledge, at least of the circumstances in which -he was about to be placed, might be serviceable to himself, and give a -beneficial direction to any influence he might obtain with the duke. -To give this, was his object in turning the conversation at once to -the character of Louis of Orleans; but yet the natural delicacy of his -mind led him to hesitate, when touching upon the failings of his -princely friend. The higher purpose, however, predominated at length, -and he went boldly forward. - -"It is necessary, Jean," he said, "to prepare you in some degree for -the scenes in which you will have to mingle, and especially to afford -you some information of the character of the prince you are about to -serve. I will mention no names, as there are people passing in the -street; but you will understand of whom I speak. He is habitually -licentious. The courts of kings are very generally depraved; and -impressions received in early life, however reason and religion may -fight against them at after periods, still leave a weak and assailable -point in the character not easily strengthened for resistance. Man's -heart is as a fortress, my young friend; a breach effected in the -walls of which is rarely, if ever, repaired with as much firmness as -at first. I do not wish to palliate his errors, for they are very -great, but merely to explain my anxiety to have good counsels near -him." - -"It is very necessary, indeed, sir," replied Jean Charost, simply, -never dreaming that his counsels could be those to which Jacques -C[oe]ur alluded. "I have heard a good deal of the duke since we have -been here in Paris, and although all must love and admire his great -and noble qualities, yet it is sad to hear the tales men tell of him." - -"Age and experience," replied Jacques C[oe]ur, "may have some effect; -nay, are already having an effect in rendering good resolutions -firmer, and the yielding to temptation less frequent. It is only -required now that some person having influence over him, and -constantly near him, should throw that influence into the scale of -right. I know not, my dear lad, whether you may or may not obtain -influence with him. He has promised me to treat you with all favor, -and to keep you as near his person as possible, and I feel quite sure -that if any opportunities occur of throwing in a word in favor of -virtue and good conduct, or of opposing vice and licentiousness, you -will not fail to seize it. I do not mean to instigate you to meddle in -the affairs of this prince, or to intrude counsels upon him. To do so -would be impertinent and wrong in one of your position; but he himself -may furnish opportunity. Consult you he will not; but converse with -you often, he probably will; and it is quite possible in a calm, -quiet, unobtrusive course, to set good counsel before him, without -appearing to advise, or pretending to meddle." - -"I should fear," replied Jean Charost, "that he would converse very -little with a boy like me, certainly not attend much to my opinions." - -"That will greatly depend upon the station you obtain in his -household," replied Jacques C[oe]ur. "If you are very much near his -person, I doubt not that he will. Those who give way to their passion, -Jean, and plunge into a sea of intrigue, are often in situations of -difficulty and anxiety, where they can find no counsel in their own -breasts, no comfort in their own hearts. It is then that they will fly -to any one who may happen to be near for help and resource. I only say -such things may happen, not that they will; but if they do, I trust to -you, Jean Charost, to use them to good purpose." - -The conversation proceeded much in the same tone till they reached the -lodging of the merchant, and ascended once more to the small chamber -in which Jean Charost had been writing. By this time, according to the -notions of Jacques C[oe]ur, it was too late for any one to be out of -bed, and he and his young companion separated for the night. On the -following morning, however, when Jean descended to the counting-room, -or office, at an early hour, he found Jacques C[oe]ur already there, -and one or two of his servants with him. He heard orders given about -horses, and equipments of various kinds, before the great merchant -seemed aware of his presence. But when the servants were all -dispatched upon their various errands, Jacques turned and greeted him -kindly. - -"Let us talk of a little business, my son," he said; "for in an hour's -time we shall have to part on our several ways; you to the Hôtel -d'Orleans, I back again to Bourges; for I am weary of this great city, -Jean, and besides, business calls me hence. Now let us, like good -merchants, reckon what it is I am in your debt." - -"Nay, sir," answered Jean Charost, "it is I that am altogether in -yours; I do not mean alone for kindness, but even in mere money. I -have received more from you, I believe, than you promised to give me." - -"More than the mere stipend, Jean," replied Jacques C[oe]ur; "but not -more than what was implied. I promised your mother, excellent lady, -God bless her, that I would give you a hundred crowns of the sun by -the year, and, moreover, whatever I found your assistance was worth to -me besides. I deal with it merely as a matter of account, Jean; and I -find that by the transactions with Genoa, partly carried on by -yourself in the last year, I have made a profit of sixteen per cent, -on invested money; on the business of Amalfi, transacted altogether by -yourself nineteen per cent.; on other business of a similar kind, with -which I and my ordinary clerks have had to do alone, an average of -fifteen per cent. Thus, in all affairs that you have dealt with, there -has been a gain over ordinary gains of somewhere between three and -four per cent. Now this surplus is to be divided between you and me, -according to my view of the case. I have looked into it closely, to do -justice to both, and I find that, as the transactions of this year -have been somewhat large, I am a debtor to you a sum of two thousand -seven hundred and forty-three crowns, two livres Parisis, and one -denier. There is a note of the account; I think you will find it -correct." - -Poor Jean Charost was astonished and overcome. The small patrimony of -his father--just sufficient to maintain a man of gentle blood within -that narrow limit thronged with petty cares, usually called moderate -competence--a sort of myth, embellished by the poets--a kind of -economical Arcadia, in which that perfect happiness represented, -is as often found as the Arcadian shepherds and shepherdesses in -plum-colored velvet coats and pink ribbons are found in the real -pastoral--this small estate, I say, had been hypothecated to the -amount of three thousand crowns, to enable his father to serve and die -for his sovereign on the battle-field; and the great first object of -Jean Charost's ambition had been to enable his poor mother to pay off -a debt which, with its interest, was eating into the core of the -estate. Hitherto the prospect of success had seemed far, far away; he -had thought he could see it in the distance; but he had doubted, and -feared, and the long journey to travel had seemed to dim even the -sunrise of hope. But now the case was reversed; the prospect seemed -near, the object well-nigh attained, and for an instant or two he -could hardly believe his ears. - -"Oh, sir," he exclaimed, after some murmured thanks, "take it to my -mother--take it all to my mother. It will make her heart leap for joy. -I shall want no money where I am going." - -Jacques C[oe]ur gazed at him with the faint, rueful smile of age -listening to inexperience. "You will need more than you know, my good -youth," he answered. "Courts are very different places from merchant's -houses; and if great openings are there found, there are openings of -the purse likewise. But I know your object, my dear boy. It is a -worthy one, and you can gratify it to a certain extent, while you yet -retain the means of appearing as you should in the household of the -Duke of Orleans. I will take two thousand crowns to your mother. Then -only a thousand will remain to be paid upon the mortgage, which I will -discharge; and you shall repay me when your economy and your success, -in both of which I have great confidence, shall make it light for you -to do so." - -Such was the kindly plan proposed by the merchant, and Jean Charost -acceded joyfully. It must not be denied that to be in possession of -seven hundred crowns seemed, in his young and untaught eyes, to put -him among the wealthy of the land. It must not be denied, either, that -the thought rose up of many things he wanted, of which he had never -much felt the want before. Among the rest, a horse seemed perfectly -indispensable but the kindness of Jacques C[oe]ur had beforehand -deprived him of all excuse for this not unreasonable expense. He found -that a fine horse, taken in payment of a debt from Spain, with bridle -and housings all complete, had been destined for his use by the great -merchant; and certainly well mounted, and, as he thought, well -equipped with all things, Jean Charost set out for the Hôtel -d'Orleans, at about half past eight o'clock, carrying a message from -Jacques C[oe]ur to the duke, to account for and excuse the sudden -departure of the merchant. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - - -To retrace one's steps is always difficult; and it may be as well, -whenever the urgency of action will permit it, in life, as in a tale -that is told, to pause a little upon the present, and not to hurry on -too rapidly to the future, lest the stern Irrevocable follow us too -closely. I know nothing more difficult, or more necessary to impress -upon the mind of youth, than the great and important fact, that every -thing, once done, is irrevocable; that Fate sets its seal upon the -deed and upon the word; that it is a bond to good or evil; that though -sometimes we may alter the conditions in a degree, the weightier -obligations of that bond can never be changed; that there is something -recorded in the great Book against us, a balance for, or adverse to -us, which speeds us lightly onward, or hampers all our after efforts. - -No, no. There is no going back. As in the fairy tale, the forest -closes up behind us as we pass through, and in the great adventure of -life our only way is forward. - -Life, in some of its phases, should always be the model of a book, and -to avoid the necessity of even trying to go far back, it may be as -well to pause here, and tell some events which had occurred even -within the space of time which our tale has already occupied. - -In a chamber, furnished with fantastic splendor, and in a house not -far from the palace of the Duke of Orleans, stood a richly-decorated -bed. It was none of those scanty, parsimonious, modern contrivances, -in which space to turn seems grudged to the unhappy inmate, but a -large, stately, elaborate structure, almost a room in itself. The four -posts, at the four corners, were carved, and gilt, and ornamented with -ivory and gold. Groups of cupids, or cherubim, I know not well which, -supported the pillars, treading gayly upon flowers; and, as people -were not very considerate of harmony in those days, the sculptor of -this bed, for so I suppose we must call him, had added Corinthian -capitals to the posts, and crowned the acanthus of dark wood with -large plumes of real ostrich feathers. Round the valance, and on many -parts of the draperies, which were of a light crimson velvet, appeared -numerous inscriptions, embroidered in gold. Some were lines from poets -of the day, or old romances of the Langue d'oc, or Langue d'oil, -while, strange to say, others were verses from the Psalms of David. - -On this bed lay a lady sweetly asleep, beautiful but pale, and bearing -traces of recent illness on her face; and beside her lay a babe which -seemed ten days or a fortnight old, swathed up according to the -abominable custom of the day, in what was then called _en mailotin_. A -lamp was on a table near, a vacant chair by the bedside, from which a -heedless nurse had just escaped to take a little recreation during her -lady's slumbers. All was still and silent in the room and throughout -the house. The long and narrow corridors were vacant; the lower hall -was far off. The silver bell, which was placed nigh at hand, might -have rang long and loud without calling any one to that bedside; but -the nurse trusted to the first calm slumber of the night, and -doubtless promised herself that her absence would not be long. It -proved long enough--somewhat too long, however. - -The door opened almost without a sound, and a tall, gray figure -entered, which could hardly have been seen from the bed, in the -twilight obscurity of that side of the room, even had any eyes been -open there. It advanced stealthily to the side of the bed, with the -right hand hidden in the breast; but there, for a moment, whatever was -the intent, the figure paused, and the eyes gazed down upon the -sleeping woman and the babe by her side. Oh, what changes of -expression came, driven like storm-clouds, over that countenance, by -some tempest of passions within, and what a contrast did the man's -face present to that of the sleeping girl. It might be that the -wronger and the wronged were there in presence, and that calm, -peaceful sleep reigned quietly, where remorse, and anguish, and -repentance should have held their sway; while agony, and rage, and -revenge were busy in the heart which had done no evil. - -Whether it was doubt, or hesitation, or a feeling of pity which -produced the pause, I can not tell; but whatever was the man's -purpose--and it could hardly be good--he stopped, and gazed for more -than one minute ere he made the intent a deed. At length, however, he -withdrew the right hand from his bosom, and something gleamed in the -lamp-light. - -It is strange: the lady moved a little in her sleep, as if the gleam -of the iron had made itself felt, and she murmured a name. Her hand -and arm were cast carelessly over the bed-clothes; her left side and -breast exposed. The name she murmured seemed to act like a command; -for instantly one hand was pressed upon her lips, and the other struck -violently her side. The cry was smothered; the hands clutched the air -in vain: a slight convulsive effort to rise, an aguish shudder, and -all was still. - -The assassin withdrew his hand, but left the dagger in the wound. Oh, -with what bitter skill he had done the deed! The steel had pierced -through and through her heart! - -There he stood for a moment, and contemplated his handiwork. What was -in his breast--who can tell? But suddenly he seemed to start from his -dark revery, took the hand he had made lifeless in his own, and -withdrew a wedding ring from the unresisting finger. - -Though passion is fond of soliloquy, he uttered but few words. "Now -let him come and look," he murmured; and then going rapidly round to -the other side of the bed, he snatched up the infant, cast part of his -robe around it, and departed. - -Oh, what an awful, dreadful thing was the stillness which reigned in -that terrible chamber after the murderer was gone. It seemed as if -there were something more than silence there--a thick dull, motionless -air of death and guilt. It lasted a long while--more than half an -hour; and then, walking on tip-toe, came back the nurse. For a moment -or two she did not perceive that any thing had happened. All was so -quiet, so much as she had left it, that she fancied no change had -taken place. She moved about stealthily, arranged some silver cups and -tankards upon a _dressoir_, and smoothed out the damask covering with -its fringe of lace. - -Presently there was a light tap at the door, and going thither on -tip-toe, she found one of the Duke of Orleans's chief servants come to -inquire after the lady's health. - -"Hush!" said the nurse, lifting up her finger, "she is sleeping like -an angel." - -"And the baby?" asked the man. - -"She is asleep too," replied the nurse; "she has not given a cry for -an hour." - -"That's strange!" said the man. "I thought babies cried every five -minutes." - -Upon second thoughts, the nurse judged it strange too; and a certain -sort of cold dread came upon her as she remembered her long absence, -and combined it with the perfect stillness. - -"Stay a moment: I'll just take a peep and tell you more;" and she -advanced noiselessly to the side of the bed. The moment she gazed in, -she uttered a fearful shriek. Nature was too strong for art or policy. -There lay the mother dead; the infant gone; and she screamed aloud, -though she knew that the whole must be told, and her own negligence -exposed. - -The man darted in from the door, and rushed to the side of the bed. -The bloody evidences of the deed which had been done were plain before -him, and catching the nurse by the arm, he questioned her vehemently. - -She was a friend of his, however--indeed, I believe, a relation--and -first came a confession, and then a consultation. She declared she had -not been absent five minutes, and that the deed must have been done -within that short time; that somebody must have been concealed in the -room at the time she left, for she had been so close at hand that she -must have seen any one pass. She went on to declare that she believed -it must have been done by sorcery; and as sorcery was in great repute -at that time, the man might have been of her opinion, if the gore and -the wound had not plainly shown a mortal agency. - -Then came the question of what was to be done. The duke must be -told--that was clear; and it was agreed by both the man and the woman -that it would be better for them to bear their own tale. - -"Do not let us tell him all at once," said the good lady, for horror -and grief had by this time been swallowed up in more personal -considerations; "he would kill us both on the spot, I do believe. Tell -him, at first, that she is very ill; then, when he is going to see -her, that she is dying; then that she is dead. And then--and then--let -him find out himself that she has been murdered. Good gracious! I -should not wonder if the murderer was still in the room. Did you not -think you saw the curtain move?" and she gave a fearful glance toward -the bed. - -The man unsheathed his sword, and for the first time they searched the -room, which they had never thought of before. - -Nothing, however, could be found--not a vestige of the murderer--the -very dagger that had done the deed was now gone; and after some -further consultation, and some expressions of horror and regret, they -set out to bear the intelligence to the Duke of Orleans, neglecting, -in the fear of any one forestalling them, to give any directions for -pursuit of the murderer. - -The house lay close to the Orleans palace, with an entrance from it -into the gardens of the latter. Through that door they passed, walked -down a short avenue of trees and vases, crossed a walk, and entered -the palace by a side door. The man made his way straight toward the -little hall, closely followed by the woman, and found the duke, as I -have shown, in conversation with Jacques C[oe]ur and Jean Charost. As -had been agreed, the prince was at first informed that the lady was -very ill, and even that intelligence caused the agitation which I have -depicted. But how can I describe his state of mind when the whole -truth was known, the fire of his rage, the abyss of his sorrow, and -more, far more than all, the depth--the poignancy of his remorse? When -he looked upon that beautiful and placid face, lying there in the -cold, dull sleep of death--when he saw the fair bosom deluged in -purple gore--when he remembered that, for the gratification of his -light love, he had torn her from the arms of a husband who doted on -her, from peaceful happiness and tranquil innocence, if not from joy -and splendor--when he thought he had made her an adulteress--had -brought disgrace upon her name--that he had been even, as he felt at -that moment, accessory to her death, the worm that never dies seemed -to fix itself upon his heart, and, casting himself down beside the -bed, he cursed the day that he was born, and invoked bitterer -maledictions on his own head than his worst enemy would have dared to -pile upon him. - -True, in his anguish he did not altogether forget his energy. Instant -orders were given to search for and pursue the murderer; and especial -directions to beset all the doors of a small hotel in the neighborhood -of the Temple, and to mark well who went out or came in. But this -done, he fell again into the dark apathy of despair, and, seated in -the chamber of death, slept not, took no refreshment throughout the -livelong night. Priests came in, tall tapers were set in order, vases -of holy water, and silver censers, and solemn voices were raised in -holy song. But the duke sat there unmoved; his arms crossed upon his -chest; his eyes fixed with a stony glare upon the floor. No one dared -to speak to him or to disturb him; and the dark, long night of winter -waned away, and the gray morning sunlight entered the chamber, ere he -quitted the side of her he had loved and ruined. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - - -Hope is nothing but a bit of cork floating on the sea of life, now -tossed up into the sky, now sunk down into the abyss, but rising, -rising again over the crest of the foamy wave, and topping all things -even unto the end. - -Joyous and hopeful, Jean Charost presented himself at the gates of the -Duke of Orleans's palace; but the heavy door under the archway was -closed, and some minutes elapsed ere he obtained admission. The tall -man who opened for him seemed doubtful whether he would let him in or -not; and it was not till Jean had explained that the duke had -appointed him, and that he was the person who had accompanied Jacques -C[oe]ur on the preceding night, that the man would let him pass the -wicket. He then told him, however, to go on to the house and inquire -for the master of the pages. - -Jean Charost was not very well satisfied with this reply; for, to his -mind, it seemed to indicate that the duke had made up his mind to -place him among his pages, and had given orders accordingly. Now the -position of a page in a great household was not very desirable in the -eyes of Jean Charost; besides, he had passed the age, he thought, when -such a post was appropriate. He had completed his seventeenth year, -and looked much older than he really was. - -As he walked on, however, he heard a step behind him, and, looking -round, saw a man following him. There was nothing very marvelous in -this, and he proceeded on his way till he found himself in the -vestibule before described, and asked, as he had been directed, for -the master of the pages. The man to whom he addressed himself said, -"I'll send you to him. You were here last night, were you not, young -gentleman?" - -Jean Charost answered in the affirmative, and the man made a sign to -the person who had followed the youth across the garden and had -entered the vestibule with him. Immediately Jean felt his arm taken -hold of, somewhat roughly, by the personage behind him, and, ere he -well knew what was taking place, he was pulled into a small room on -one side of the vestibule, and the door closed upon him. The room was -already tenanted by three or four persons of different conditions. One -seemed an old soldier, with a very white beard, and a scar across his -brow; one was dressed as a mendicant friar; and one, by his round -jacket, knee-breeches, and blue stockings, with broad-toed shoes and a -little square cap, was evidently a mechanic. The old soldier was -walking up and down the room with a very irritable air; the mendicant -friar was telling his beads with great rapidity; the mechanic sat in a -corner, twisting his thumbs round and round each other, and looking -half stupefied. The scene did not explain itself at all, and Jean -stood for a moment or two, not at all comprehending why he was brought -there, or what was to happen next. - -"By Saint Hubert, this is too bad!" exclaimed the old soldier, at -length; and approaching the door, he tried to open it, but it was -locked. - -"Pray, what is the matter?" asked Jean Charost, simply. - -"Why, don't you know?" exclaimed the old man. "On my life, I believe -the duke is as mad as his brother." - -"The fact is, my son," said the friar, "some offense was committed -here last night, a robbery or a murder; and the duke has given orders -that every body who was at the house after the hour of seven should be -detained till the matter is investigated." - -"He does not suppose I committed a murder!" exclaimed the old soldier, -in a tone of great indignation. - -"I can't tell that," replied the friar, with a quiet smile; "gentlemen -of your profession sometimes do." - -"I never murdered any body in my life," whined the mechanic. - -"Happy for you," said the friar; "and happier still if you get people -to believe you." - -He then addressed himself to his beads again, and for nearly an hour -all was silence in the room, except the low muttering of the friar's -paters and aves. But the gay hopes of Jean Charost sunk a good deal -under the influence of delay and uncertainty, although, of course, he -felt nothing like alarm at the situation in which he was placed. At -length a man in a black gown and a square black cap was introduced, -struggling, it is true, and saying to those who pushed him in, "Mark, -I resist! it is not with my own consent. This incarceration is -illegal. The duke is not a lord high justiciary on this ground; and -for every minute I will have my damages, if there be honesty in the -sovereign courts, and justice in France." - -The door was closed upon him, however, unceremoniously; for the -servants of great men in those days were not very much accustomed to -attend to punctilios of law; and the advocate, for so he seemed, -turned to his fellow-prisoners, and told them in indignant terms how -he had been engaged to defend the steward of the prince in a little -piece of scandal that had arisen in the Marais; how he had visited him -to consult the night before, and had been seized on his return that -day, and thrust in there upon a pretense that would not bear an -argument. - -"I thought," said the old soldier, bitterly, "that you men of the robe -would make any thing bear an argument. I know you argued me out of all -my fortune among you." - -The little petulant man of law had not time to reply, when the door -was opened, and the whole party were marched into the presence of the -Duke of Orleans, under the escort of half a dozen men-at-arms. - -The duke was seated in the little hall where Jean Charost had seen him -on the preceding night, with his hair rough and disheveled, and his -apparel neglected. His eyes were fixed upon the table before him, and -he only raised them once or twice during the scene that followed; but -a venerable-looking man who sat beside him, and who was, in fact, one -of the judges of the Châtelet, kept his eyes fixed upon the little -party which now entered with one of those cold, fixed, but piercing -looks that seem to search the heart by less guarded avenues than the -lips. - -"Ah, Maître Pierrot le Brun," he said, looking at the advocate, "I -will deal with you, brother, first. Pray what was it brought you -hither last night, and again this morning?" - -The advocate replied, but in a tone greatly subdued, as compared with -that which he had used in the company of his fellow-prisoners. His -case was soon proved, and he was suffered to depart, offering somewhat -humiliating thanks for his speedy dismissal. - -The old soldier, however, maintained his surly tone, and when asked -what brought him thither the night before and again that day, replied -boldly, "I came to see if the Duke of Orleans would do something for a -man-at-arms of Charles the Fifth. I fought for his father, and was one -half ruined by my services to my king, the other half by such men as -the one who has just gone out. I can couch a lance, or wield a sword -as well as ever, and I don't see why, being a gentleman of name and -arms, I should be thrown on one side like a rusty plastron." - -The Duke of Orleans suddenly raised his head, asked the old man's -name, wrote something on a bit of paper, and gave it to him, seeming -to raise no small emotions of joy and satisfaction; for the soldier -caught his hand and kissed it warmly, as if his utmost wishes were -gratified. - -The judge was for asking some more questions, but the duke interfered, -saying, "I know him--let him pass. He had no share in this." - -The mendicant friar was next examined, and, to say truth, his account -of himself did not seem, to the ears of Jean Charost at least, to be -quite as satisfactory as could be desired. His only excuse for being -twice in the palace of the duke within four-and-twenty hours was, that -he came to beg an alms for his convent, and there was a look of shrewd -meaning in his countenance while he replied, which to one who did not -know all the various trades exercised by gentry of his cloth, seemed -exceedingly suspicious. The duke and the magistrate, however, appeared -to be satisfied, and the former then turned his eyes upon Jean -Charost, while the judge called up the mechanic and put some questions -to him. - -"Who are you, young gentleman?" said the Duke of Orleans, motioning -Jean to approach him. "I have seen your face somewhere--who are you?" - -"I waited upon your highness last night," replied Jean Charost, with -the rear-guard of all his hopes and expectations routed by the -discovery that the duke did not even recollect him. "I was brought -hither by Monsieur Jacques C[oe]ur; and by your own command, I -returned this morning at nine o'clock." - -"I remember," said the duke, "I remember;" and, casting down his eyes -again, he fell into a fit of thought which had not come to an end when -the judge concluded his examination of the poor mechanic. That -examination had lasted longer than any of the others; for it seemed -that the man had been working till a late hour on the previous evening -on the bolts of some windows which looked from a neighboring house -into the gardens of the Orleans palace, and that shortly before the -hour at which the murder was committed he had seen a tall man pass -swiftly along the corridor, near which he was employed. He could not -describe his apparel, the obscurity having prevented his remarking the -color; but he declared that it looked like the costume of a priest or -a monk, and was certainly furnished with a hood, much in the shape of -a cowl. This was all that could be extracted from him, and, indeed, it -was evident that he knew no more; so, in the end, he was suffered to -depart. - -The judge then turned to Jean Charost, who remained standing before -the Duke of Orleans, in anxious expectation of what was to come next. -The duke was still buried in thought; for the young man's reply to his -question had probably revived in his mind all the painful feelings -first produced by the intelligence which had interrupted his -conversation with Jacques C[oe]ur on the preceding night. - -"What is your name, your profession, and what brought you to the -Orleans palace last night, young man?" asked the judge, in a grave, -but not a stern tone. - -"My name is Jean Charost de Brecy," replied the young man, "a -gentleman by name and arms; and I came hither last night--" - -But the Duke of Orleans roused himself from his revery, and waved his -hand, saying, "Enough--enough, my good friend. I know all about this -young man. He could have no share in the dark deed: for he was with me -when it was done. I forgot his face for a moment; but I remember him -well now, and what I promised him." - -"Suffer me, your highness," said the judge. "We know not what he may -have seen in coming or going. Things which seem trifles often have -bearings of great weight upon important facts--at what time came you -hither, young gentleman? Were you alone, and, if not, who was with -you?" - -Jean Charost answered briefly and distinctly, and the judge then -inquired, "Did you meet any one, as you entered this house, who seemed -to be quitting it?" - -"No," replied Jean Charost, "several persons were lingering about the -gate, and in front, between the walls and the chain; but nobody seemed -quitting the spot." - -"No one in a long flowing robe and cowl, the habit of a priest or a -friar?" asked the judge. - -"No," replied Jean Charost; "but we saw, a few moments before, a man -such as you describe, seeking admission at the gates of a large house -like a monastery. He seemed in haste, too, from the way he rang the -bell." - -The judge questioned him closely as to the position of the house he -described; and when he had given his answer, turned to the duke, -saying, "The Celestins." - -"They have had naught to do with it," replied the duke, at once. "The -good brethren love me too well to inflict such grief upon me." - -"They have cause, my lord," replied the judge; "but we do not always -find that gratitude follows good offices. By your permission, I will -make some inquiry as to who was the person who entered their gates -last night at the hour named." - -"As you will," replied the duke, shaking his head; "but I repeat, -there is something within me which tells me better than the clearest -evidence, who was the man that did this horrid act; and he is not at -the Celestins. Inquire, if you please; but it is vain, I know. He and -I will meet, however, ere our lives end. My conscience was loaded on -his account. He has well balanced the debt; and when we meet--" - -He added no more, but clasped his hands tight together, and set his -teeth bitterly. - -"Nevertheless, I will inquire," said the judge, who seemed somewhat -pertinacious in his own opinions. "It is needful that this should be -sifted to the bottom. Such acts are becoming too common." - -As he spoke, he rose and took his leave, bidding the artisan follow -him; and Jean Charost remained alone in the presence of the Duke of -Orleans, though two or three servants and armed men passed and -repassed from time to time across the further end of the hall. - -For several minutes the duke remained in thought; but at length he -raised his eyes to Jean Charost's face, and gazed at him for a few -moments with an absent air. Then rising, he beckoned him to follow, -saying, "Come with me. There is a weight in this air; it is heavy with -sorrow." - -Thus saying, he led the way through a small door at the end of the -hall--opposite to that by which the young gentleman had entered--into -a large, square, inner court of the palace, round three sides of which -ran an arcade or cloister. - -"Give me your arm," said the duke, as they issued forth; and, leaning -somewhat heavily on his young companion, he continued to pace up and -down the arcade for more than an hour, sometimes in silence--sometimes -speaking a few words--asking a question--making some observation on -the reply--or giving voice to the feelings of his own heart, in words -which Jean Charost did not half understand. - -More than once a page, a servant, or an armed officer would come and -ask a question, receive the duke's answer, and retire. But in all -instances the prince's reply was short, and made without pausing in -his walk. It was evidently one of those moments of struggle when the -mind seeks to cast off the oppression of some great and heavy grief, -rousing itself again to resist, after one of all the many stunning -blows which every one must encounter in this mortal career. And it is -wonderful how various is the degree of elasticity--the power of -action--shown by the spirits of different men in the same -circumstances. The weak and puny, the tender and the gentle fall, -crushed, as it were, probably never to recover, or crawl away from a -battle-field, for which they are not fitted, to seek in solitude an -escape from the combat of life. The stern and hardy warrior, -accustomed to endure and to resist, may be cast down for a moment by -the shock, but starts on his feet again, ready to do battle the next -instant; and the light and elastic leaps up with the very recoil of -the fall, and mingles in the melee again, as if sporting with the ills -of the world. In the character of the Duke of Orleans there was -something of both the latter classes of mind. From his very infancy he -had been called upon to deal with the hard things of life. Strife, -evil, sorrow, care, danger, had been round his cradle, and his youth -and his manhood had been passed in contests often provoked by himself, -often forced upon him by others. - -It was evident that, in the present case, the prince had suffered -deeply, and we have seen that he yielded, more than perhaps he had -ever done before, to the weight of his sorrow. But he was now making a -great effort to cast off the impression, and to turn his mind to new -themes, as a relief from the bitterness of memory. He was in some -degree successful, although his thoughts would wander back, from time -to time, to the painful topic from which he sought to withdraw them; -but every moment he recovered himself more and more. At first, his -conversation with Jean Charost consisted principally of questions, the -replies to which were hardly heard or noticed; but gradually he began -to show a greater interest in the subject spoken of, questioned the -young man much, both in regard to Jacques C[oe]ur and to his own fate -and history, and though he mused from time to time over the replies, -yet he soon returned to the main subject again, and seemed pleased and -well satisfied with the answers he received. - -Indeed, the circumstances attending both the first introduction and -second interview of Jean Charost with the duke were of themselves -fortunate. He became associated, as it were, in the prince's mind with -moments sanctified by sorrow, and filled with deep emotion. A link of -sympathy seemed to be established between them, which nothing else -could have produced, and the calm, graceful, thoughtful tone of the -young man's mind harmonized so well with the temporary feelings of the -prince, that, in the hour which followed, he had made more progress in -his regard than a gayer, a lighter, a more brilliant spirit could have -done in double the time. - -Still, nothing had been said of the position which Jean Charost was to -occupy in the prince's household, when a man bearing a long white wand -entered, and informed the duke that the Duke de Berri was coming that -way to visit him. Orleans turned, and advanced a few steps toward a -door leading from the court into the interior of the building, as if -to meet his noble relation. But before he was half down the arcade, -the Duke de Berri was marshaled in, with some state, by the prince's -officers. - -"Leave us," said the Duke of Orleans, speaking to the attendants, as -soon as he had embraced his relation; and Jean Charost, receiving the -command as general, was about to follow. But the prince stopped him, -beckoning him up, and presented him to the Duke de Berri, saying, -"This is my young secretary, noble uncle; given to me by my good -friend Jacques C[oe]ur. I have much to say to you; some part of which -it may be necessary to reduce to writing. We had better, therefore, -keep him near us." - -The Duke de Berri merely bowed his head, gazing at Jean Charost -thoughtfully; and the prince added, "But the air is shrewd and keen, -even here, notwithstanding the sunshine. Let us go into the octagon -chamber. No, not there, it overlooks that dreadful room. This way, my -uncle." - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - - -"This is beautiful writing," said the Duke of Orleans, laying one hand -upon Jean Charost's shoulder, and leaning over him as he added the few -last words to a proposal of accommodation between the prince and the -Duke of Burgundy. "Can the hand that guides a pen so well wield a -sword and couch a lance?" - -"It may be somewhat out of practice, sir," replied Jean Charost, "for -months have passed since it tried either; but, while my father lived, -it was my pastime, and he said I should make a soldier." - -"He was a good one himself, and a good judge," replied the duke. "But -we will try you, Jean--we will try you. Now give me the pen. I can -write my name, at least, which is more than some great men can do." - -Jean Charost rose, and the duke, seating himself, signed his name in a -good bold hand, and folded up the paper. "There, my uncle," he -continued, "you be the messenger of peace to the Hôtel d'Artois. I -must go to Saint Pol to see my poor brother. He was in sad case -yesterday; but I have ever remarked that his fury is greatest on the -eve of amendment. Would to God that we could but have an interval of -reason sufficiently long for him to settle all these distracting -affairs himself, and place the government of the kingdom on a basis -more secure. Gladly would I retire from all these cares and toils, and -pass the rest of my days--" - -"In pleasure?" asked the Duke de Berri, with a faint smile. - -A cloud came instantly over the face of the Duke of Orleans. "Nay, not -so," he replied, in a tone of deep melancholy. "Pleasure is past, good -uncle. I would have said--and pass the rest of my days in thought, in -sorrow, and perhaps in penitence." - -"Would that it might be so," rejoined the old man; and he shook his -head with a sigh and a doubtful look. - -"You know not what has happened here," said the Duke of Orleans, -laying his hand gloomily upon his relation's arm. "An event fearful -enough to awaken any spirit not plunged in utter apathy. I can not -tell you. I dare not remember it. But you will soon hear. Let us go -forth;" and, with his eyes fixed upon the ground, he walked slowly out -of the room, accompanied by the Duke de Berri, without taking any -further notice of Jean Charost, who followed, a step or two behind, to -the outer court, where the horses and attendants of both the princes -were waiting for them. - -Some word, some indication of what he was to do, of what was expected -from him, or how he was to proceed, Jean Charost certainly did look -for. But none was given. Wrapped in dark and sorrowful meditations, -the duke mounted and rode slowly away, without seeming to perceive -even the groom who held his stirrup, and the young man remained in the -court, a complete stranger among a crowd of youths and men, each of -whom knew his place and had his occupation. His heart had not been -lightened; his mind had not been cheered by all the events of the -morning; and the gloomy, mysterious hints which he had heard of a dark -and terrible crime having been committed within those walls, brooded -with a shadowy horror over the scene. But those who surrounded him -seemed not in the least to share such sensations. Death tenanted a -chamber hard by; the darkened windows of the house that flanked the -garden could be seen from the spot where they stood, and yet there -appeared no heavy heart among them. No one mourned, no one looked sad. -One elderly man turned away whistling, and re-entered the palace. Two -squires, in the prime of life, began to spar and wrestle with rude -jocularity, the moment their lord's back was turned; and many a -monkey-trick was played by the young pages, while three or four lads, -some older, some younger than Jean Charost himself, stood laughing and -talking at one side of the court, with their eyes fixed upon him. - -He felt his situation growing exceedingly unpleasant, and, after some -consideration, he made up his mind to turn back again into the house, -and ask to see the master of the pages, to whom he had been first -directed; but, just as he was about to put this purpose in execution, -a tall, gayly-dressed young man, with budding mustache, and sword and -dagger by his side, came from the little group I have mentioned, and -bowed low to the young stranger, with a gay but supercilious air. "May -I inquire," he said, using somewhat antiquated phrases, and all the -grimace of courtesy, "May I inquire, _Beau Sire_, who the _Beau Sire_ -may be, and what may be his business here?" - -Jean Charost was not apt to take offense; and though the tone and -manner were insolent, and his feelings but little in harmony with a -joke, he replied, quietly enough, "My name is Jean Charost de Brecy, -and my business, sir, is certainly not with you." - -"How can the _Beau Sire_ tell that?" demanded the other, while two or -three more from the same youthful group gathered round, "seeing that -he knows not my name. But on that score I will enlighten him. My name -is Juvenel de Royans." - -"Then, Monsieur Juvenel de Royans," replied the young man, growing a -little angry, "I will in turn inform you how I know that my business -is not with you. It is simply because it lies with his highness, the -Duke of Orleans, and no one else." - -"Oh, ho!" cried the young man, "we have a grand personage to deal -with, who will not take up with pages and valets, I warrant; a -chanticleer of the first crow! Sir, if you are not a cock of the lower -court, perhaps it might be as well for you to vacate the premises." - -"I really don't know what you mean, good youth," answered Jean -Charost. "You seem to wish to insult me. But I will give you no -occasion. You shall make one, if you want one; and I have only simply -to warn you that his highness last night engaged me in his service." - -"As what? as what?" cried a dozen voices round him. - -Jean Charost hesitated; and Juvenel de Royans, seeing that he had -gained some advantage, though he knew not well what, exclaimed, in a -solemn and reproving tone, "Silence, messieurs. You are all mistaken. -You think that every post in this household is filled, and therefore -that there is nothing vacant for this young gentleman. But there is -one post vacant, for which he is, doubtless, eminently qualified, -namely, the honorable office of Instructor of the Monkeys." - -"The first that I am likely to begin with is yourself," answered Jean -Charost, amid a shout of laughter from the rest; "and I am very likely -to give you the commencing lesson speedily, if you do not move out of -my way." - -"I am always ready for instruction," replied the other, barring the -passage to the house. - -Jean Charost's hand was upon his collar in a moment; but the other was -as strong as himself, and a vehement struggle was on the point of -taking place, when a middle-aged man, who had been standing at the -principal door of the palace, came out and thrust himself between the -two youths, exclaiming, "For shame! for shame! Ah, Master Juvenel, at -your old tricks again. You know they have cost you the duke's favor. -Take care that they do not cost you something more." - -"The young gentleman offered me some instruction," said Juvenel de -Royans, in a tone of affected humility. "Surely you would not have me -reject such an offer, although I know not who he is, or what may be -his capability for giving it." - -"He is the duke's secretary, sir," said the elder man, "and may have -to give you instruction in more ways than you imagine." - -"I cry his reverence, and kiss the toe of his pantoufle," said the -other, nothing daunted, adding, as he looked at Jean Charost's shoes, -which were cut in a somewhat more convenient fashion than the -extravagant and inconvenient mode of Paris, "His _cordovanier_ has -been somewhat penurious in regard to those same pantoufle toes, but my -humility is all the greater." - -"Come with me, sir; come with me, and never mind the foolish boy," -said the elder gentleman, taking Jean Charost's arm, and drawing him -away. "I will take you to the maître d'hôtel, who will show you your -apartments. The duke will not be long absent, and if his mind have a -little recovered itself, he will soon set all these affairs to rights -for you." - -"Perhaps there may be some mistake," said Jean Charost, hesitating a -little. "I think that you are the gentleman who introduced the Duke de -Berri about half an hour ago; but, although his highness gave me the -name of his secretary in speaking to that duke, he has in no way -intimated to me personally that I am to fill such an office, and it -may be better not to assume that it is so till I hear further." - -"Not so, not so," cried the gentleman, with a smile. "You do not know -the duke yet. He is a man of a single word: frank, and honest in all -his dealings. What he says, he means. He may do more, but never less; -and it were to offend him to doubt any thing he has said. He called -you his secretary in your presence; I heard him, and you are just as -much his secretary as if you had a patent for the place. Besides, -shortly after Maître Jacques C[oe]ur left him yesterday evening--the -first time, when he was here alone, I mean--he gave orders concerning -you. I am merely a poor _écuyer de la main_, but tolerably well with -his highness. The maître d'hôtel, however, knows all about it." - -By this time they had reached the vestibule of the palace, and Jean -Charost was conducted by his new friend through a number of turning -and winding passages, which showed him that the house was much larger -than he had at first believed, to a large room, where they found an -old man in a lay habit of black, but with the crown of his head -shaved, immersed in an ocean of bundles of papers, tied up with -pack-thread. - -"This is the young gentleman of whom the duke spoke to you, signor," -said Jean's conductor; "his highness's new secretary. You had better -let him see his rooms, and take care of him till the duke comes, for I -found young Juvenel de Royans provoking him to quarrel in the outer -court." - -"Ah, that youth, that youth," cried the maître d'hôtel, with a strong -foreign accent. "He will get himself into trouble, and Heaven knows -the trouble he has given me. But can not you, good Monsieur Blaize, -just show the young gentleman his apartments? Here are the keys. I -know it is not in your office; but I am so busy just now, and so sad -too, that you would confer a favor upon me. Then bring him back, as -soon as he knows his way, and we three will dine snugly together in my -other room. It is two hours past the time; but every thing has been in -disorder this black day, and the duke has gone out without any dinner -at all. Will you favor me, Monsieur Blaize?" - -"With pleasure, with pleasure, my good friend," replied the old -_écuyer_, taking the two keys which the other held out to him, and -saying, in an inquiring tone, "The two rooms next to the duke's -bed-room, are they not?" - -"No, no. The two on this side, next the toilet-chamber," answered the -other. "You will find a fire lighted there, for it is marvelous cold -in this horrid climate;" and Monsieur Blaize, nodding his head, led -the way toward another part of the palace. - -Innumerable small chambers were passed, their little doors jostling -each other in a long corridor, and Jean Charost began to wonder when -they would stop, when a sharp turn brought them to a completely -different part of the house. A large and curiously-constructed -stair-case presented itself, rising from the sides of a vestibule, in -two great wings, which seemed all the way up as if they were going to -meet each other at the next landing-place, but yet, taking a sudden -turn, continued separate to the top of the five stories through which -they ascended, without any communication whatsoever between the -several flights. Quaint and strange were the ornaments carved upon the -railings and balustrades: heads of devils and angels, cherubims with -their wings extended, monkeys playing on the fiddle, dragons with -their snaky tails wound round the bones of a grinning skeleton, and -Cupid astride upon a goose. In each little group there was probably -some allegory, moral or satirical; but, though very much inclined, -Jean Charost could not pause to inquire into the conceit which lay -beneath, for his companion led the way up one of the flights with a -rapid step, and then carried him along a wide passage, in which the -doors were few and large, and ornamented with rich carvings, but dimly -seen in the ill-lighted corridor. At the end, a little flight of six -broad steps led them to another floor of the house, more lightsome and -cheerful of aspect, and here they reached a large doorway, with a -lantern hanging before it and some verses carved in the wood-work upon -the cornice. - -Here Monsieur Blaize paused for a moment to look over his shoulder, -and say, "That is the duke's bed-chamber, and the door beyond his -toilet-chamber, where he receives applicants while he is dressing; and -now for the secretary's room." - -As he spoke, he approached a little door--for no great symmetry was -observed--and, applying a key to the lock, admitted his young -companion into the apartments which were to be his future abode. The -first room was a sort of antechamber to the second, and was fitted up -as a sort of writing-chamber, with tables, and chairs, and stools, -ink-bottles and cases for paper, while a large, open fire-place -displayed the embers of a fire, which had been sufficiently large to -warm the whole air within. Within this room wat another, separated -from it by a partition of plain oak, containing a small bed, very -handsomely decorated, a chair, and a table, but no other furniture, -except three pieces of tapestry, representing, somewhat grotesquely, -and not very decently, the loves of Jupiter and Leda. The two -chambers, which formed one angle of the building, and received light -from two different sides, had apparently been one in former times, but -each was large enough to form a very convenient room; and there was an -air of comfort and habitability, if I may use the term, which seemed -to the eye of Jean Charost the first cheerful thing he had met with -since his entrance into the palace. - -On the table, in the writing-room, were spots of ink of no very old -date; and one article, belonging to a former tenant had been left -behind, in the shape of a sword hanging by one of the rings of the -scabbard from a nail driven into the oaken partition. In passing -through, Jean Charost paused to look at it, and the old _écuyer_ -exclaimed, "Ah, poor fellow! he will never use it again. That belonged -to Monsieur De Gray, the duke's late secretary, who was killed in a -rencounter near Corbeil. Master Juvenel de Royans thought to get the -post, but he had so completely lost the duke's favor by his rashness -and indiscretion, that it was flatly refused him. - -"Then probably he will be no great friend of mine," said Jean Charost, -with a faint smile; "and perhaps his conduct just now had as much of -malice in it as of folly." - -Monsieur Blaize paused and meditated for a moment. He was at that age -when the light tricks and vagaries of sportive youth are the most -annoying--not old enough to dote upon the reflected image of regretted -years, nor young enough to feel any sympathy with the follies of -another age. He was, nevertheless, a very just man, and, as Jean -Charost found afterward, just in small things as well as great; in -words as well as deeds. - -"No," he said, thoughtfully; "no; I do not think he is one to bear -malice--at all events, not long. His nature is a frank and generous -one, though overlaid by much conceit and vanity, and carried away by a -rash, unbridled spirit. It is probable he neither cared who or what -you were, and merely resolved, in order to make the foolish boys round -him laugh, that he would have what he called some sport with the -stranger, without at all considering how much pain he might give, or -where an idle jest might end. There are multitudes of such men in the -world, and they gain, good lack! the reputation of gallant, daring -spirits, simply because they put themselves and every one else in -danger, as if the continual periling of a hard head were really any -sign of being a brave man. But we must not keep the signor's dinner -waiting. It is one of his little foibles to love his meat well done, -and never drink bad wine. Your eyes seem seeking something. What is it -you require?" - -"I thought, perhaps," replied Jean Charost, "that my baggage might -have been brought up here, as the apartment, it seems, was prepared -for me. It must have come some time ago, I think. My horse, too, I -left at the gates, and Heaven knows what has become of him." - -"We will inquire--we will inquire as we go," said the _écuyer_; "but -no great toilet is required here at the dinner hour. At supper we -sometimes put on our smart attire; but, in these hazardous times, one -never knows how, or how soon, the mid-day meal may be brought to an -end." - -Thus saying, he turned to the door, and, taking a different way back -from that which he had followed in leading Jean Charost to his -apartments, he paused for a moment at a little dark den, shut off from -one of the lower halls by a half door, breast high, and spoke a few -words to some invisible person within. - -"Stall number nineteen," growled a voice from within. "But who's to -dress him? No groom--no horse-boy, even!" - -"We will see to that presently," replied the _écuyer_; and then seeing -a man pass along the other side of the hall, he crossed over, spoke to -him for a moment or two, and returning, informed Jean Charost that his -baggage had arrived, and would be carried up to the door of his -apartments before dinner was over. - -On returning to the rooms of the maître d'hôtel, they found that high -functionary emerged from his accounts, and ready to conduct them into -his own private dining-room, where, by especial privilege, he took his -meals with a select few, and certainly did not fare worse than his -lord and master. There might be more gold on the table of the Duke of -Orleans, but probably less good cheer. The maître d'hôtel himself was -a sleek, quiet specimen of Italian humanity, always exceedingly full -of business, very accurate, and even very faithful; by birth a -gentleman; nominally an ecclesiastic; fond of quiet, if not of ease, -and loving all kinds of good things, without the slightest objection -to a sly joke, even if the whiskers of decency, morality, or religion -were a little singed thereby. He was an exceedingly good man, -nevertheless, a hater of all strife and quarreling, though in this -respect he had fallen upon evil days; and his appearance and conduct, -with his black beard, his tonsure, his semi-clerical dress, and his -air of grave suavity, generally assured him respect from all members -of the duke's household. - -Two other officers, besides himself and the _écuyer_, formed the party -at dinner with Jean Charost, and every thing passed with great -decorum, all parties seeming to enjoy themselves among fat capon, -snipes, rich Burgundy, and other delicacies, far too much to waste the -precious moments in idle conversation. - -Jean Charost thought the dinner very dull indeed, and wondered, with a -feeling of some apprehension, if his meals were always to be taken in -such solemn assembly. Peals of laughter, too, which he heard from a -hall not far off, gave the gravity of the proceedings all the effect -of contrast. But the young gentleman soon found that when that serious -passion, hunger, was somewhat appeased, his companions could unbend a -little. With the second course, a few quiet jokes began to fly about, -staid and formal enough, indeed; but the gravity of the party was soon -restored by Monsieur Blaize starting a subject of importance, in which -Jean Charost was deeply interested. He announced to the maître d'hôtel -that their young companion, not knowing the customs of the duke's -household, had brought no servant with him, and it was agreed upon all -hands that this was a defect to be remedied immediately. - -Jean was a little puzzled, and a little alarmed at the idea of expense -about to be incurred; for his education had been one of forced -economy, and the thought of entertaining a servant for his own -especial needs had never entered into his mind. He could only protest, -however, in a subdued and somewhat anxious tone, that he knew not -where or how to procure a person suitable; but, on that score, -immediate assistance was offered him by the maître d'hôtel himself. - -"I have more than a hundred and fifty names on my books," he said, "of -lads all eager to be entered upon the duke's household in any -capacity. I will look through the list by-and-by." - -But, without giving him time to do so, every one of the gentlemen at -the table hastened to mention some one whom he would be glad to -recommend, leading Jean Charost to say to himself, "If the post of -lackey to the duke's secretary be so desirable, how desirable must be -the post of secretary itself!" - -The discussion continued during the whole of the second course, each -having a good deal to say in favor of his nominee, and each a jest to -launch at the person recommended by any other. - -"There is Pierre Crouton," said one elderly gentleman. "He was born -upon my estate, near Charenton, and a brisker, more active lad never -lived. He has had good instruction, too, and knows every corner of -Paris from the Bastile to the Tour de Nesle." - -"Well acquainted with the little Châtelet, likewise," said Monsieur -Blaize. "I have heard that the jailer's great dogs will not even bark -at him. But there is Matthew Borne, the son of old James Borne, who -died in the duke's service long ago." - -"Ay," said another, "poor James, when he was old, and battered to -pieces, married the pretty young grisette, and this was her son. It's -a wise son that knows his own father. Pray, what has become of her, -Monsieur Blaize? You should know, if any one does." - -"I know nothing about her," said the _écuyer_, somewhat sharply. "Her -son came to me, asking a recommendation. I have given him that, and -that's all I know." - -"Trust to me, trust to me, my young friend," said the maître d'hôtel, -in a whisper, to Jean Charost. "I will find the lad to suit you before -nightfall. Come to me in half an hour, and you shall have a choice." - -Jean Charost promised to follow his counsels, and soon after the -little party broke up. - -Strange is the sensation with which a young man encounters the first -half hour of solitary thought in a new situation. Have you forgotten -it, dear reader? Yes--perhaps entirely; and yet you must have -experienced it at some time. When you first went to join your -regiment; when, after all the bustle, and activity, and embarrassment, -and a little sheepishness, and a little pride, and a little -awkwardness perhaps, and perhaps all the casualties of the first mess -dinner, you sat down in your barrack-room, not so much to review the -events of the day, as to let the mind settle, and order issue out of -chaos: you have felt it then. Or, when you have joined a squad of -lawyer's clerks, or entered a merchant's counting-house, or plunged -into a strange city, or entered a new university, and passed through -all the initiations, and sat down in the lull of the evening or the -dead of night, to find yourself alone--separate not only from familiar -faces, and things associated with early associations, but from -habitual thoughts and sensations, from family customs and domestic -habits: you must have felt it then, and experienced a solitude such as -a desert itself can hardly give. - -Seated in his writing-room, without turning a thought or a look to his -baggage, which had been placed at the door for himself to draw in, -Jean Charost gave himself up to thought--I believe I might better say -to sensation. He felt his loneliness, more than thought of it, and -Memory, with one of those strange vagaries, in which she delights as -much as Fancy, skipped at once over a period of fourteen or fifteen -months, and carried him back at once to the small château of Brecy, -and to the frugal table in his mother's hall. The quaint, long -windows, with one pointed arch within another, and two or three pale -yellow warriors of stained glass, transmitting the discolored rays -upon the floor. The high-backed chair, never used since his father's -death, standing against the wall, with a knob in the centre, resting -against the iron chausses of an antiquated suit of armor, the plain -oaken board in the middle of the room, and his mother and the two -maids spinning in the sunniest nook, came up before his eyes almost as -plainly as they had appeared the year and a half before. He heard the -hound howling in the court-yard, and the song of the milk-maid -bringing home the pail upon her head, and the song of the bird, which -used to sit in March mornings on the topmost bough of an ash-tree, -which had rooted itself on an inner tower, somewhat neglected and -dilapidated. For a moment or two he was at home again. His paternal -dwelling-place formed a little picture apart in his room in the -Parisian palace, and the cheerful sunshine, pouring from early -associations, formed a strange and striking contrast with the sort of -dark isolation which he felt around him. - -The contrast, perhaps, might have been as great if he had compared the -present with days more recently passed; for in the house of Jacques -C[oe]ur he had been, from the first, at home; but still his mind did -not rest upon it. It reverted to those earlier days; and he sat gazing -on the floor, and wishing himself--notwithstanding the eagerness of -youthful hope, the buoyancy of youthful spirits, the impetuosity of -youthful desires--wishing himself once more in the calm and happy -bosom of domestic life, and away from splendid scenes devoid of all -warm and genial feelings, where gold and jewels might glitter and -shine, but where every thing was cold as the metal, and hard as the -stone. - -It was a boy's fancy. It was the fancy of an hour. He knew that the -strangeness would soon pass away. Young as he was, he was aware that -the spirit, spider-like, speedily spins out threads to attach itself -to all the objects that surround it, however different to its -accustomed haunts, however strange, and new, and rough may be the -points by which it is encompassed. - -At length he started up, saying to himself, "Ah, ha! the half hour -must be past;" and quitting the room without locking the door behind -him, he threaded his way through the long passage to the office of the -maître d'hôtel. - -The Italian seemed to have got through the labors of the day, and -seated in a large chair, with his feet in velvet slippers, extended to -the fire, was yielding after the most improved method to the process -of digestion. He was neither quite awake, nor quite asleep, and in -that benign state of semi-somnolence which succeeds a well considered -meal happily disposed of. The five or ten minutes which Jean Charost -was behind his time had been favorable, by enabling him to prolong his -comfortable repose, and he received the young gentleman with the -utmost benevolence, seating him by him, and talking to him in a quiet, -low, almost confidential tone, but not at first touching upon the -subject which brought his young visitor there. On the contrary, his -object in inviting him seemed to have been rather to give him a -general idea of the character of those by whom he was surrounded, and -of what would be expected from him by the duke himself, than to -recommend him a lackey. - -Of the duke he spoke in high terms, as in duty bound, but of the -duchess in higher terms still; mingling his commendations, however, -with expressions of compassion, which led Jean Charost to believe that -her married life was not as happy as her virtue merited. The young -listener, however, discovered that the good signor had accompanied the -duchess from her father's court at Milan, and had a hereditary right -to love and respect her. - -All the principal officers of the duke's household were passed one by -one in review by the good maître d'hôtel, and although the prince and -his lady were both spoken of with profound respect, none of the rest -escaped without some satirical notice, couched in somewhat sharp, -though by no means bitter terms. Even Monsieur Blaize himself was not -exempt. "He is the best, the most upright, and the most prudent man in -the whole household," said the signor; "just in all his proceedings, -with a little sort of worldly wisdom, not the slightest tincture of -letters, a great deal of honest simplicity, and is, what we call in -Italy, 'an ass.'" - -Such a chart of the country, when we can depend upon its accuracy, is -very useful to a young man in entering a strange household; but, -nevertheless, Jean Charost, though grateful for the information he -received, resolved to use his own eyes, and judge for himself. To say -the truth, he was not at all sorry to find the good maître d'hôtel in -a communicative mood; for the curiosity of youth had been excited by -many of the events of the morning, and especially by the detention and -examination which he had undergone immediately after his arrival. That -some strange and terrible event had occurred, was evident; but a -profound and mysterious silence had been observed by every one he had -seen in the palace regarding the facts. The subject had been carefully -avoided, and no one had even come near it in the most unguarded -moment. With simple skill he endeavored to bring round the -conversation to the point desired, and at length asked, -straightforwardly, what had occurred to induce the the duke's officers -to put him and several others in a sort of arrest, as soon as he had -entered the gates. He gained nothing by the attempt, however. "Ah, -poor lady! ah, sweet lady!" exclaimed the master of the hotel, in a -sad tone. "But we were talking, my young friend, of a varlet fitted -for your service. I have got just the person to suit you. He is as -active as a squirrel, as gay as a lark, understands all points of -service for horse or man, and never asks any questions about what does -not concern him--a most invaluable quality in a prince's household. If -he has any fault, he is too chaste; so you must mind your morals, my -young friend. His wages are three crowns a month, and your cast-off -clothes, with any little gratuity for good service you may like to -bestow. He will be rated on the duke's household, and nourished at his -expense; but you will need a horse for him, which had better be -provided as soon as possible. I advise you strongly to take him; but, -nevertheless, see him first, and judge for yourself. He will be with -you some time to-day; and now I must to work again. Ah, ha! It is a -laborious life. Good-day, my son--good-day." - -Jean Charost took his leave, and departed; but he could not help -thinking that his instructive conversation with the maître d'hôtel had -been brought to a somewhat sudden close by his own indiscreet -questions. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - - -Great silence pervaded the palace of the Duke of Orleans, or, at -least, that part of it in which Jean Charost's rooms were situated, -during the rest of the day. He thought he heard, indeed, about half an -hour after he had left the maître d'hôtel, some distant sounds in the -same building, and the blast of a trumpet; but whether the latter -noise proceeded from the streets or from the outer court, he could not -tell. Every thing was still, however, in the corridor hard by. No one -was heard passing toward the apartments of the duke, and the young man -was somewhat anxious in regard to the prince's long delay. What were -to be his occupations, what was expected of him, he knew not; and -although he was desirous of purchasing another horse, in accordance -with the hint given him by Signor Lomelini, the maître d'hôtel, he did -not like to venture out, lest his royal employer should arrive, and -require his presence. - -The unpacking and arrangement of his baggage afforded him some -occupation, and when that was completed, he took out a book--a rare -treasure, possessed by few in those days--and continued to read till -the crooked letters of the copyist's hand began to fade upon the -vellum, as early night approached. He was just closing the page, when -there was a tap at the door, and a short, slight young man presented -himself, some four or five-and-twenty years of age, but not much -taller than a youth of fourteen or fifteen. He was dressed very -plainly, in a suit of gray cloth, and the light was not sufficient to -show much more; but every thing he had on seemed to have a gay and -jaunty air, and his cap, even when he held it in his hand, exhibited a -sort of obliquity of direction, which showed it to be impossible ever -to keep it straight upon his head. - -There was no need of asking his name or business, for both were -related in the fewest possible words before he had been an instant in -the room. - -"I am Martin Grille," he said, "and I have come to be hired by your -lordship." - -"Then I suppose you take it for granted that I will hire you?" said -Jean Charost, with a smile. - -"Signor Lomelini sent me," replied the young man, in a confident tone. - -"He sent you to see if you suited me," replied Jean Charost. - -"Of course," replied the young man. "Don't I?" - -Jean Charost laughed. "I can not say," he answered. "You must first -tell me what you can do." - -"Every thing," replied the other. - -Jean Charost mused, thinking to himself that a person who could do -every thing was exactly the one to suit him, in a situation in which -he did not know what to do. He answered, however, still half -meditating, "Then I think, my good friend Martin, you are just the man -for me." - -"Thank your lordship," replied Martin Grille, without waiting for any -addition to the sentence; but, before Jean Charost could put in a -single proviso, or ask another question, the door opened, and, by aid -of the light from the window in the corridor behind it, the young -gentleman saw a tall, dark figure entering the room. The features he -could not distinguish; but there was something in the air and carriage -of the newcomer which made him instantly rise from his seat, and the -moment after, the voice of the Duke of Orleans said, "What in -darkness, my young friend! My people have not taken proper care of -you. Who is that?" - -The question applied to Martin Grille, who was retreating out of the -room as fast as his feet could carry him; and Jean Charost replied, -placing a chair for the duke, "Merely a servant, your highness, whom I -have been engaging--an appendage which, coming from humbler dwellings, -I had forgotten to provide myself with till I was here." - -"Ah! these people--these people!" said the duke; "so they have forced -a servant upon you already, though there are varlets enough in this -house to do double the work that is provided for them. However, -perhaps it is as well. But I will see to these affairs of yours for -the future. Take no such step without consulting me, and do so freely; -for Jacques C[oe]ur has interested me in you, and I look upon it that -he has rather committed you to my charge, than placed you in my -service. Come hither with me into a place where there is more light. -Heaven knows, my thoughts are dark enough." - -Thus saying, he turned to the door, and Jean Charost followed him -along the corridor till they reached what had been pointed out as his -toilet-chamber, at the entrance of which stood two of the duke's -attendants, who threw open the door at his approach. Followed by Jean -Charost, he passed silently between them into a large and well-lighted -room, and seating himself, fell into a deep fit of thought, which -lasted for several minutes. At length he raised his head, and looked -up in the young man's face for a moment or two without speaking; but -then said, "I can not to-night. I wished to give you information and -directions as to your conduct and occupations here; but my mind is -very heavy, and can only deal with weighty things. Come to me -to-morrow, after mass, and you shall have some hints that may be -serviceable to you. At present sit down at that table, and draw me up -a paper, somewhat similar to that which I dictated this morning, but -more at large. The terms of accommodation have been accepted as to -general principles, but several particulars require explanation. You -will find the notes there--in that paper lying before you. See if you -can put them in form without reference to me." - -Jean Charost seated himself, and took up the pen; but, on perusing the -notes, he found his task somewhat difficult. Had it been merely a -letter on mercantile business to some citizen of Genoa or Amalfi that -he was called upon to write, the matter would have been easy; but when -it was a formal proposal, addressed to "The High and Mighty Prince -John, Duke of Burgundy," he found himself more than once greatly -puzzled. Twice he looked up toward the Duke of Orleans; but the duke -remained in profound thought, with his arms crossed upon his chest, -and his eyes bent upon a distant spot on the floor; and Jean Charost -wrote on, striving to do his best, but not certain whether he was -right or wrong. - -For more than half an hour the young man continued writing, and then -said, in a low voice, "It is done, your highness." - -The duke started, and held out his hand for the paper, which he read -carefully twice over. It seemed to please him, for he nodded his head -to his young companion with a smile, saying, "Very well--better than I -expected. But you must change that word--and that. Choose me something -more forcible. Say impossible, rather than difficult; and positively, -rather than probably. On these points there must be no doubts left. -Then make me a fair copy. It shall go this very night." - -Jean Charost resumed his seat, and executed this task also to the full -satisfaction of the Duke of Orleans. When all was complete, and the -letter sealed and addressed, the duke rang the little _clochette_, or -silver bell upon his table, and one of the attendants immediately -entered. To him he gave the epistle, with directions for its -transmission by a proper officer, and the man departed in silence. For -a moment or two the duke remained without speaking, but gazing in the -face of Jean Charost, as if considering something he saw there -attentively; and at length he said to himself, "Ay--it is as well. Get -your cloak, M. de Brecy," he continued. "I wish you to go a few steps -with me. Bring sword and dagger with you. There, take a light, as -there is none in your chamber." - -The young secretary hurried away, and in two minutes returned to the -duke's door; but the attendant would not suffer him to enter till he -had knocked and asked permission. When admitted, he found the duke -equipped for going forth, his whole person enveloped in a large, plain -mantle, and his head covered with a chaperon or hood, which concealed -the greater part of his face. "Now follow me," he said; and passing -the attendant, to whom he gave some orders in a low voice, he led the -way through that corridor and another, then descended a flight of -steps, and issued out by a small door into the gardens. Taking his way -between two rows of trees, he made direct for the opposite wall, -opened a door in it with a key which he carried with him, and, in a -moment after, Jean Charost found himself in a narrow street, along -which a number of persons were passing. "Keep close," said the Duke of -Orleans, after he had closed the door; and then advancing with a quick -pace between the wall and the houses opposite, he led the way direct -into the Rue St. Antoine. The night was clear and bright, though -exceedingly cold, and the Parisian world were all abroad in the -streets; but the duke and his young companion passed unnoticed in the -crowd. - -At length they reached the gate of that large building at which the -young secretary had seen the man apply for admission on the preceding -night, and there the duke stopped, and rang the same bell. A wicket -door was immediately opened by a man in the habit of a monk, with a -lantern in his hand, and the duke, slightly lifting his _cornette_, or -chaperon, passed in without speaking, followed by his young secretary. -Taking his way across a long, stone-paved court to the main building, -he entered a large vestibule where a light was burning, and in which -was found an old man busily engaged in painting, with rich hues of -blue, and pink, and gold, the capital letters in a large vellum book. -To him the duke spoke for a moment or two in a low tone, and the monk -immediately took a lantern, and led the way into the interior of the -monastery, which was much more silent and quiet than such abodes were -usually supposed to be. At the end of the second passage, the little -party issued forth upon a long cloister forming one side of a -quadrangle, and separated from the central court by an open screen of -elaborately carved stone work. Here the old monk turned, and gave a -sidelong glance at Jean Charost, lifting his lantern a little, as if -to see him more distinctly, and the Duke of Orleans, seeming to take -this as a hint, paused for an instant, saying, "Wait for me here, M. -De Brecy; I will not be long." He then walked on, and Jean Charost was -left to perambulate the cloister in solitude, and nearly in darkness. -The stars, indeed, were out, and the rising moon was pouring her -silvery rays upon the upper story on the opposite side of the -quadrangle, peeping in at the quaint old windows, and illuminating the -rich tracery of stone. There seemed something solemn, and yet -fanciful, in the picture she displayed. The cold shadows of the tall, -fine pillars, and their infinitely varied capitals; the spouts -sticking out in strange forms of beasts and dragons; the heads of -angels and devils in various angles, and at the ends of corbels, with -the fine fret-work of some tall arches at one corner of the court, -gave ample materials for the imagination to work with at her will; -while the general aspect of the whole was gloomy, if not actually sad. -The mass of buildings around, and the distance of that remote -quadrangle from the street, deadened the noises of the great city, so -that nothing was heard for some time but an indistinct murmur, like -the softened roar of the sea. - -In the building itself all was still as death, till the slow footfall -of a sandal was heard approaching from the side at which the Duke of -Orleans had disappeared. A moment or two after, the old monk came back -with a lantern, and paused to speak a few words with the young man -from the world without. "It is a bitter cold night, my son," he said, -"and the duke tells me he has come hither with you alone. He risks too -much in these evil times, methinks." - -"I trust not," replied Jean Charost. "A good prince should have -nothing to fear in the streets of his brother's capital." - -"All men have enemies, either within or without," replied the monk; -"and no man can be called good till he is in heaven. Have you been -long with the duke, my son? He says you are his secretary." - -"I have been in his highness's service but a few hours," replied Jean -Charost. - -"He trusts you mightily," answered his ancient companion. "You should -be grateful for his great confidence." - -"I am so, indeed, father," replied Jean Charost; "but I owe his -confidence to the kind recommendations of another, rather than to any -merits of my own." - -"Modestly answered, for one so young," replied the monk. "Methinks you -have not been long in courts, my son. They tell me that modesty is -soon lost there, as well as truth." - -"I trust that I shall lose neither there," replied Jean Charost, "or I -would soon betake myself afar from such bad influence. I do not hold -that any thing a court could give would repay a man for loss of -honesty." - -"Well, I know little of courts," answered the old man, "and perhaps -there is scandal in the tales they tell; but one thing is certain--it -is very cold, and I will betake me to my books again. Good-night, my -son;" and he walked on. - -Jean Charost began again to pace and repace the cloister, fancying, -but not quite sure, that he heard the murmur of voices down the -passage through which the monk had taken his way. Shortly after, he -saw a tall, gray figure flit across the moonlight, which had now -reached to the grass in the centre of the quadrangle. It was lost -almost as soon as seen, and no sound of steps met the young man's ear. -He saw it distinctly, however, and yet there was a sort of -superstitious awe came over him, as if the being he beheld were not of -the same nature with himself. He walked on in the same direction which -it seemed to have taken, but, ere he reached the corner of the -quadrangle, he saw another figure come forth from one of the passages -which branched off from the cloister, and easily recognized the walk -and bearing of the Duke of Orleans. But suddenly that gray figure came -between him and the duke, and a deep-toned, hollow voice was heard to -say, "Bad man, repent while you have yet time! Your days are numbered! -The last grains of sand shake in the hour-glass; the moon will not -change thrice, and find you among the living!" - -The duke seemed to stagger back, and Jean Charost darted onward; but -before he reached the spot, the stranger was gone. - -"Follow him not--follow him not!" cried the Duke of Orleans, catching -the arm of his young secretary, who was impulsively hurrying in -pursuit of the man who had put forth what seemed to his ears a daring -threat against the brother of his king; "follow him not, but come -hither;" and, taking Jean Charost's arm, he pursued his way through -the long passages of the monastery to the vestibule, where sat the old -monk busily illuminating his manuscript. - -Till they reached that room the duke uttered not a word, except his -brief injunction not to follow. But there he seated himself upon a -bench, with a face very pale, and beckoning up the old man, spoke to -him for several moments in a low tone of voice. - -"I really can not tell," said the monk, aloud. "We have no such -brother as you describe; no one has passed here." - -"He must have passed you, methinks," replied Jean Charost, unable to -resist. "He came from the passage down which you went the moment after -you had left me, and I fancied I heard him speak with you." - -"Not so, my son, not so," replied the monk, eagerly; "I saw no one but -yourself, and spoke with no one." - -The Duke of Orleans sat and mused for a few moments; but then raised -himself to his full height, and threw back his shoulders, as if -casting off a weight; and, taking the arm of Jean Charost, quitted the -convent, merely saying, "This is very strange!" - -They soon reached the small postern gate in the garden wall, and -entered the precincts of the palace; but as they were approaching the -building itself, the duke paused for a moment, saying to his young -companion, "Not a word of this strange occurrence to any one. Sup in -your own room, and be with me to-morrow at the hour I named." - -His tone was somewhat stern, and Jean Charost made no reply, thinking, -however, that he was very likely to go without his supper, as he had -no one to send for it. But when he entered his room he found matters -considerably changed, probably in consequence of some orders which the -duke had given as they were going out. A sconce was lighted on the -wall, and a cresset, lamp hung from the ceiling by an iron chain -directly over the table. A large fire of logs was blazing on the -hearth; and, a moment or two after, an inferior servant entered to ask -if he had any commands. - -"Your own varlet, sir, will be here to-morrow," he said; "and in the -mean time, I have his highness's commands to attend upon you." - -Jean Charost contented himself with ordering some supper to be brought -to him, and asking some questions in regard to the hours and customs -of the household; and, after all his wants had been attended to, he -retired to rest, without quitting his own room again, judging that the -duke's command to sup there had been given as a sort of precaution -against any indiscretion upon his part, and implied a desire that he -should not mingle with the general household that night. He knew not -what the hour was, and it could not have been very late. But there was -nothing to keep him awake, except a memory of the strange events of -the day, and the light heart of youth soon shakes off such -impressions, so that he slept readily and well. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - - -Long before the hour appointed for him to wait upon the duke, Jean -Charost was up and dressed, expecting every moment to see the servant -he had engaged present himself, but no Martin Grille appeared. The -attendant of the duke, who had waited upon him the preceding evening, -brought him a breakfast not to be despised, consisting of delicacies -from various parts of France, and a bottle of no bad wine of -Beaugency; but he could tell nothing of Martin Grille, and by the time -the meal was over, the hour appointed by the duke had arrived. - -On being admitted to the prince's dressing-chamber, Jean Charost found -him in his _robe de chamber_, seated at a table, writing. His face, -the young man could not help thinking, was even graver and sadder than -on the preceding night; but he did not raise his eyes at the -secretary's entrance, and continued to write slowly, often stopping to -correct or alter, till he had covered one side of the paper before -him. When that was done, he handed the sheet to the young secretary, -saying, "There, copy me that;" and, on taking the paper, Jean Charost -was surprised to see that it was covered with verse; for he was not -aware that the duke possessed any of that talent which was afterward -so conspicuous in his son. He seated himself at the table, however, -and proceeded to fulfill the command he had received, not without -difficulty, for the duke's writing, though large and bold, was not -very distinct. - - - To will and not to do, - Alas! how sad! - Man and his passions too - Are mad--how mad! - - Oh! could the heart but break - The heavy chain - That binds it to this stake - Of earthly pain, - - And seek for joys all pure, - And hopes all bright, - For pleasures that endure, - And wells of light, - - And purge away the dross - With life allied, - I ne'er had mourn'd love's loss, - Nor ever cried. - - To will and not to do, - Alas! how sad! - Man and his passions too - Are mad--how mad! - - -"Read it, read it," said the Duke of Orleans; and, with some timidity, -the young secretary obeyed, feeling instinctively how difficult it is -to give in reading the exact emphasis intended by the writer. He -succeeded well, however. The duke was pleased, perhaps as much with -his own verses as with the manner in which they were read. But, after -a few words of commendation, he fell into a fit of thought again, from -which he was at length startled by the slow tolling of the bell of a -neighboring church. He raised his eyes suddenly to the face of Jean -Charost as the sounds struck upon his ear, and gazed at him with a -strange, inquiring, but sorrowful expression of countenance, as if he -would fain have asked, "Do you know what that bell means? Can you -comprehend the feelings it begets in me?" - -The young man bent his eyes gravely to the ground, and that sort of -reverence which we all feel for deep grief, and the sort of awe -excited, especially in young minds, by the display of intense passion, -gave his countenance naturally an expression of sympathy and sorrow. - -A moment after, the duke started up, exclaiming, "I can not let her go -without a look or a tear! Come with me, my friend, come with me. God -knows I need some support, even in my wrong, and my weakness, and my -punishment." - -"Oh, that I could give it you, sir!" said Jean Charost, in a low tone; -but the duke merely grasped his arm, and, leaning heavily upon him, -quitted the chamber by a door through which Jean Charost had not -hitherto passed. It led into the prince's bed-room, and from that, -through what seemed a private passage, to a distant suite of rooms on -another front of the house. The duke proceeded with a rapid but -irregular pace, while the bell was still heard tolling, seeming to -make the roof shudder with its slow and heavy vibrations. Through five -or six different vacant chambers, fitted up with costly decorations, -but apparently long unused, the prince hurried forward till he reached -that side of the house which looked over the wall of the gardens into -the Rue Saint Antoine, but there he paused before a window, and gazed -forth. - -There was nothing to be seen. The street was almost deserted. A -youth in a fustian jacket and wide hose, with a round cap on his -head--evidently some laboring mechanic--passed along toward the -Bastile, gazing forward with a look of stupid eagerness, and then set -off running, as if to see some sight which he was afraid would escape -him; and still the bell was heard tolling slow and solemnly, and -filling the whole air with melancholy trembling. - -The duke quitted his hold of Jean Charost and crossed his arms upon -his breast, setting his teeth hard, as if there were a terrible -struggle within, in which he was determined to conquer. - -A moment after, a song rose upon the air--a slow, melancholy chant, -well marked in time, with swelling flow and softening cadence, and now -a pause, and then a full burst of song, sometimes one or two voices -heard alone, and then a full chorus; but all sad, and solemn, and -oppressive to the spirit. At length a man bearing a banner appeared, -and then two or three couple of mendicant friars, and then a small -train of Celestin monks in their long, flowing garments, and then some -boys in white gowns with censers, then priests in their robes, and -then two white horses drawing a car, with a coffin upon it--a closed -coffin, which was not usual in those days at the funerals of the -great. Men on horseback and on foot followed, but Jean Charost did not -clearly distinguish who or what they were. He only saw the priests and -the boys with their censers, and the Celestins in their white gowns -and their black scapularies, and the coffin, and the flowers that -strewed it, even in the midst of winter, in an indistinct and confused -manner, for his attention was strongly called in another direction, -though he did not venture to look round. - -The moment the head of the procession had appeared from beyond one of -the flanking towers of the garden wall, the Duke of Orleans had laid a -hand upon his shoulder, and grasped him tight, as if for support. -Heavier and heavier pressed the hand, and then the young man felt -that the prince's head was bowed down and rested upon him, while the -long-drawn, struggling breath--the gasp, as if existence were coming -to an end--told the terrible anguish of his spirit. - -Solemn and slow the notes of the chant rose up as the procession swept -along before the gates of the palace, and the words of the penitent -King of Israel were heard ascending to the sky, and praying the God of -mercy and of power to pardon and to succor. The grasp of the hand grew -less firm, but the weight pressed heavier and heavier; and, turning -suddenly round, Jean Charost cast his arm about the duke, from an -instinctive feeling that he was falling to the ground. - -The prince's face was deadly pale, and his strong limbs shook as if -with an ague. Bitter tears, too, were on his cheeks, and his lips -quivered. "Get me a chair," he said, faintly, grasping the pillar -between the windows; "I feel ill--get me a chair." - -Although almost afraid to leave him lest he should fall, Jean Charost -hurried to obey, brought forward one of the large arm-chairs, and, -placing his hand under the duke's arm, assisted him to seat himself in -it. Then gazing anxiously in his face, he beheld an expression of deep -and bitter grief, such as he had never seen before; no, not even in -his mother's face when his father's dead body was brought back to his -paternal hall. The young man's heart was touched; the distinction of -rank and station was done away, in part; sympathy created a bond -between him and one who was comparatively a stranger, and, kneeling at -the prince's side, he kissed his hand, saying, "Oh, sir, be comforted. -Death ever strikes the dearest and the best beloved. It is the lot of -humanity to possess but for a season that which we value most. It is a -trial of our faith to yield unrepining to him who lent that which he -takes away. Trust--trust in God to comfort and to compensate!" - -The duke shook his head sadly. "Trust in God!" he repeated, "and him -have I offended. His laws have I broken. Young man, young man, you -know not what it is to see the bitter consummation of what -you yourself have done--to behold the wreck you have made of -happiness--the complete desolation of a life once pure, and bright, -and beautiful--all done by you. Yes, yes," he added, almost wildly, "I -did it all--what matter the instruments--what signifies it that the -dagger was not in my hand? I was the cause of all--I tore her from a -peaceful home, where she had tranquillity, if not love--I blasted her -fair name--I broke up her domestic peace--I took from her happiness--I -gave her penitence and remorse--I armed the hand that stabbed her. -Mine, mine is the whole crime, though she has shared the sorrow and -endured the punishment." - -"But there is mercy, sir," urged Jean Charost; "there is mercy for all -repentance. Surely Christ died not in vain. Surely he suffered not for -the few, but for the many. Surely his word is not false, his promises -not idle! 'Come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I -will give ye rest.' He spoke of the weariness of the heart, and the -burden of the spirit--He spoke to all men. He spoke to the peasant in -his hut, to the king upon his throne, to the saint in his cell, to the -criminal in his dungeon, to the sorrowful throughout all the earth, -and throughout all time; and to you, oh prince--He spoke also unto -you! Weary and heavy laden are you with your grief and your -repentance; turn unto him, and he will give you rest!" - -There was something in the outburst of fervid feeling with which the -young man spoke, from the deep interest that had been excited in him -by all he had seen and heard, which went straight home to the heart of -the Duke of Orleans, and casting his arm around him, he once more -leaned his head upon his shoulder, and wept profusely. But now they -seemed to be somewhat calmer tears he shed--tears of grief, but not -altogether of despair; and when he lifted his head again, the -expression of deep, hopeless bitterness was gone from his face. The -chant, too, had ceased in the street, though a faint murmur thereof -was still heard in the distance. - -"You have given me comfort, Jean," he said; "you have given me -comfort, when none else, perhaps, could have done so. You are no -courtier, dear boy. You have spoken, when others would have stood in -cold and reverent silence. Oh, out upon the heartless forms that cut -us off from our fellow-men, even in the moment when the intensity of -our human sufferings makes us feel ourselves upon the level of the -lowliest! Out upon the heartless forms that drive us to break through -their barrier into the sphere of passion, as much in pursuit of human -sympathies as of mere momentary pleasure! Come with me, Jean. It is -over--the dreadful moment is past--I will seek him to whom thou hast -pointed--I will seek comfort there. But on this earth, the hour just -passed has forged a tie between thee and me which can never be broken. -Now I can understand how thou hast won so much love and confidence; it -is that thou hast some heart, where all, or almost all, are -heartless." - -Thus saying, he raised himself with the aid of the young man's arm, -and walked slowly back to his own apartments by the way he had come. - -When they had entered his toilet-chamber, the duke cast himself into a -chair, saying, "Now leave me, De Brecy; but be not far off. I need not -tell you not to speak of any thing you have seen. I know you will not. -I will send for you soon; but I must have time for thought." - -Jean Charost withdrew and sought his own room; but it is not to be -denied that the moment was a perilous one for his favor with the Duke -of Orleans. It is a very dangerous thing to witness the weaknesses of -great men--or those emotions which they look upon as weaknesses. -Pride, vanity, doubt, fear, suspicion, all whisper hate against those -who can testify that they are not so strong as the world supposes. -Alas, that it should be so! But so it is; and it was but by a happy -quality in the mind of the Duke of Orleans--the native frankness and -generosity of his disposition--that Jean Charost escaped the fate of -so many who have witnessed the secret emotion of princes. Happily for -himself, he knew not that there was any peril, and felt, though in a -different sense, that, as the prince had said, there was a new tie -between him and his royal master. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - - -At the corner of a street, on the island which formed the first -nucleus round which gathered the great city of Paris, was a small -booth, protruding from a little, ill-favored house, some three or four -hundred yards from the church of Nôtre Dame. This booth consisted -merely of a coarse wooden shed, open in front, and only covered -overhead by rough, unsmoothed planks, while upon a rude table or -counter, running along the front, appeared a number of articles of -cutlery, knives, great rings, and other iron ware, comprising the -daggers worn, and often used in a sanguinary manner, by the lower -order of citizens; for, though the possessor of the stall was not a -regular armorer by profession, he did not think himself prohibited -from dealing in the weapons employed by his own class. Written in -white chalk upon a board over the booth were the words, "Simon, dit -Caboche, Maître Coutellier." - -Behind the table on which his goods were displayed appeared the -personage to whom the above inscription referred: a man of some -forty-five or forty-six years of age, tall, brawny, and powerful, with -his huge arms bare up to the elbows, notwithstanding the severity of -the weather. His countenance was any thing but prepossessing, and yet -there was a certain commanding energy in the broad, square forehead -and massive under jaw, which spoke, truly enough, the character of the -man, and obtained for him considerable influence with people of his -own class. Yet he was exceedingly ugly; his cheek bones high and -prominent; his eyes small, fierce, and flashing, and his nose turned -up in the air, as if in contempt of every thing below it. His skin was -so begrimed with dirt, that its original color could with difficulty -be distinguished; but it was probably of that dark, saturnine brown, -which seldom looks completely clean; for his hair was of the stiff, -black, bristly nature which usually goes with that complexion. - -Limping about in the shop beside him was a creature, which even -youth--usually so full of its own special charms--could not render -beautiful or graceful. Nature seemed to have stamped upon it, from its -birth, the most repulsive marks. It was a boy of some ten or twelve -years old, but still his eyes hardly reached above the table on which -the cutler's goods were displayed; but, by a peculiarity not uncommon, -the growth which should have been upright had, by some obstacle, been -forced to spread out laterally, and the shoulders, ribs, and hips were -as broad as those of a grown man. The back was humped, though not very -distinctly so; the legs were both short, but one was shorter than the -other; and one eye was defective, probably from his birth. So short, -so stout, so squared was the whole body, that it looked more like a -cube, with a large head and very short legs, than a human form; but, -though the gait was awkward and unsightly to the eyes, that little -creature was possessed of singular activity, and of very great -strength, notwithstanding his deformity. - -It was a curious thing to see the father and the son standing -together: the one with his great, powerful, well-developed limbs, and -the other with his minute and apparently slender form. One could -hardly believe that the one was the offspring of the other. Yet so it -was. Maître Simon was the father of that deformed dwarf, whose -appearance would have been quite sufficient to draw the hooting boys -of Paris after him when he appeared in the streets, had not the vigor -and unmerciful severity of his father's arm kept even the little -vagabonds of the most turbulent city in the world in awe. - -That which might seem most strange, though in reality it was not so at -all, was the doting fondness of the stern, powerful father for that -misshapen child. It seems a rule of Nature, that where she refuses to -any one the personal attractions which, often undeservedly, command -regard, she places in the bosom of some other kindred being that -strong affection which generously gives gratuitously the love for -which there seems so little claim. - -The father and the son had obtained, first from the boys of the town, -and then from elder people, the nicknames of the big Caboche and the -little Caboche, and, with a good-humor very common in France, they had -themselves adopted these epithets without offense; so that the cutler -was constantly addressed by his companions merely as Caboche, and had -even placed that title over his door. During the hours when he tended -his shop, or was engaged in the manual labors of his trade, the boy -was almost always with him, limping round him, making observations -upon every thing, and enlivening his father's occupations by a sort of -pungent wit, perhaps a little smacking of buffoonery, which, if not a -gift, could be nowhere so well acquired as in the streets of Paris, -and in which the hard spirit of the cutler greatly delighted. - -Nevertheless, the characters of the father and the son were not less -strongly in contrast than their corporeal frames. Notwithstanding an -occasional moroseness and acerbity, perhaps engendered by a sad -comparison of his own physical powers with those of others of his age, -there was in the boy's nature a fund of kindly sympathies and gentle -affections, which characterized his actions more than his words: and -as we all love contrasts, the secret of his father's strong affection -for him might be, in part, the opposition between their several -dispositions. - -It was about three o'clock in the day, the hour when Parisians are -most abroad; but the cold kept many within doors, and but one person -had stopped at the booth to buy. - -"Trade is ruined," said big Caboche, in a grumbling tone. "No business -is doing. The king's sickness and his brother's influence have utterly -destroyed the trade of the city. Armorers, and embroiderers, and -dealers in idle goldsmiths' work, may make a living; but no one else -can gain his bread. There has not been a single soul in the shop this -morning, except an old woman who wanted an ax to cut her meat, because -it was frozen." - -"My father," replied the boy, "it was not the king nor the Duke of -Orleans that made the Seine freeze, or pinched old Joaquim's nose, or -burned old Jeannette's flannel coat, or kept any of the folks in who -would have been out if it had not been so cold. Don't you see there is -nobody in the street but those who have only one coat, and that a thin -one. They come out because the frosty sunshine is better than no shine -at all; and, though they keep their hands in their pockets, they won't -draw them out, because you won't let them have goods without money, -and they have not money to buy goods. But here comes Cousin Martin, as -fine as a popinjay. It must have snowed feathers, I think, to have -clothed his back so gayly." - -"Ah, the scapegrace!" exclaimed Caboche "I should think that he had -just been plundering some empty-headed master, if my pot had not -reason to know that he has had no master to plunder for these last -three months. Well, Master Never-do-well, what brings you here in such -smart plumes? Violet and yellow, with a silver lace, upon my life! If -you are so fully fledged, methinks you can pick up your own grain -without coming to mine." - -"And so I can, and so I will, uncle," replied our friend Martin -Grille, pausing at the entrance of the booth to look at himself from -head to foot, in evident admiration of his own appearance. "Did you -ever see any thing fit better? Upon my life, it is a perfect marvel -that any man should ever have been made so perfectly like me as to -have worn these clothes before, without the slightest alteration! -Nobody would believe it." - -"Nobody will believe they are your own, Cousin Martin," said the -deformed boy, with a grin. - -"But they are my own, Petit Jean," answered Martin Grille, with a very -grand air; "for I have bought them, and paid for them; and though they -may have been stolen, for aught I know, before I had them, I had no -hand in the stealing, _foi de valet_." - -"Ah," said Caboche, dryly, "men always gave you credit for more -ingenuity than you possess, and they will in this instance also. I -always said you were a good-humored, foolish, hair-brained lad, -without wit enough to take a bird's nest or bamboozle a goose; but -people would not believe me, even when you were clad in hodden gray. -What will they think now, when you dance about in silk and -broadcloth?" - -"Why they'll think, good uncle, that I have all the wit they imagined, -and all the honesty you knew me to have. But I'll tell you all about -it, that my own relations, at least, may have cause to glorify -themselves." - -"Get you gone--get you gone," cried the cutler, in a rough, but not -ill-humored tone. "I don't want to know how you got the clothes." - -"Tell me, Martin, tell me," said the boy; "I should like to hear, of -all things. Perhaps I may get some in the same way, some day." - -"Mayhap," answered Martin Grille, seating himself on a bench, and -kindly putting his arm round the deformed boy's neck. "Well, you must -know, Petit Jean, that there is a certain Signor Lomelini, who is -maître d'hôtel to his highness the Duke of Orleans--" - -"Big Caboche growled out a curse between his teeth; for while -pretending to occupy himself with other things, he was listening to -the tale all the time, and the Duke of Orleans was with him an object -of that strange, fanciful, prejudiced hatred, which men of inferior -station very often conceive, without the slightest cause, against -persons placed above them. - -"Well, this Signor Lomelini--" - -"There, there," cried Caboche; "we know all about that long ago. How -his mule put its foot into a hole in the street, and tumbled him head -over heels into the gutter, and you picked him out, and scraped, and -wiped him, and took him back clean and sound, though desperately -frightened, and a little bruised. We recollect all about that, and -what gay day-dreams you built up, and thought your fortune made. Has -he recollected you at last, and given you a cast off suit of clothes? -He has been somewhat tardy in his gratitude, and niggardly, too." - -"All wrong, uncle mine, all wrong!" replied Martin Grille, laughing. -"There has been hardly a day on which I have not seen him since, and -when I hav'n't dined with you, I have dined at the Hôtel d'Orleans. He -found out what you never found out: that I was dexterous, serviceable, -and discreet, and many has been the little job which required dispatch -and secrecy which I have done for him." - -"Ay, dirty work, I trow," growled Caboche; but Martin Grille proceeded -with his tale, without heeding his uncle's accustomed interruptions. - -"Well, Signor Lomelini always promised," he said, "to get me rated on -the duke's household. There was a prospect for a penniless lad, Petit -Jean!" - -"As well get you posted in the devil's kitchen," said Caboche, "and -make you Satan's turnspit." - -"But are you placed--but are you placed?" cried the deformed boy, -eagerly. - -"You shall hear all in good time," answered Martin Grille. "He -promised, as I have said, to get me rated as soon as there was any -vacancy; but the devil seemed in all the people. Not one of them would -die, except old Angelo, the squire of the stirrup, and Monsieur De -Gray, the duke's secretary. But those places were far too high for -me." - -"I see not why they should be," answered the deformed boy, "except -that the squire is expected to fight at his lord's side, and the -secretary to write for him; and I fancy, Cousin Martin, thou wouldst -make as bad a hand at the one as the other." - -"Ha, ha, ha!" shouted Caboche; "he hit thee there, Martin." - -"On my life! I don't know," answered Martin Grille; "for I never tried -either. However, yesterday afternoon the signor sent for me, and told -me that the duke had got a new secretary--quite a young man, who knew -very little of life, less of Paris, and nothing of a court: that this -young gentleman had got no servant, and wanted one; that he had -recommended me, and that I should be taken if I could recommend -myself. I went to him in the gray of the evening, to set off my -apparel the better, but I found the youth not quite so pastoral as I -expected, and he began to ask me questions. Questions are very -troublesome things, and answers still more so; so I made mine as short -as possible." - -"And he engaged you," cried the boy, eagerly. - -"On my life! I can hardly say that," replied Martin Grille. "But the -Duke of Orleans himself just happened to come in at the nick of time, -when I was beginning to get a little puzzled. So I thought it best to -take it for granted I was engaged; and making my way as fast as -possible out of the august presence of my master, and my master's -master, I went away to Signor Lomelini and told him I was hired, all -through his influence. So, then, he patted me on the shoulder, and -called me a brave lad. He told me, moreover, to get myself put in -decent costume, and wait upon the young gentleman early the next -morning." - -"Ay, that's the question," cried Caboche; "where did you get the -clothes? Did you steal them from your new master the first day; for -you will not say that Lomelini gave them to you. If so, men have -belied him." - -"No," said Martin, in an exceedingly doubtful tone, "no--I can't say -he exhibits his money. What his own coin is made of, I can not tell. I -never saw any of it that I know of. He pays out of other men's pockets -though, and he has been as good as his word with me." - -"How so?" asked the cutler. - -"Why, you must know," answered Martin, with an important air, "that -every servant in the duke's house is rated on the duke's household. -Each gentleman, down to the very pages, has one or more valets, and -they are all on the household-book. To prevent excess, however, and -with a paternal solicitude to keep them out of debt, the maître -d'hôtel takes upon himself the task of paying all the valets, sending -in to the treasurer a regular account against each master every month, -to be deducted from that master's salary; and, as it is the custom to -give earnest to a valet when he is engaged, I persuaded the signor to -advance me a sufficient number of crowns to carry me on silver wings -to a frippery shop." - -"Where you spent the last penny, Cousin Martin," said the deformed -boy, with a sly smile. - -"No, I did not, Petit Jean," replied Martin Grille; "for I brought one -whole crown to you. There, my boy; you are a good lad, and I love you -dearly, though you do break your sharp wit across my hard head -sometimes--take it, take it!" - -The boy looked as if he would very much like to have the crown, but -still put it away from him, with fingers itching as much to clutch it -as Cæsar's on the Lupercal. - -"Take it," repeated Martin Grille. "I owe your father much more than -that." - -"You owe me nothing," answered Caboche, quickly; and then added in a -softened tone, as he saw how eagerly the boy looked at the piece of -money: "you may take it, my son. That will show Martin that I really -think he owes me nothing. What I have given him was given for blood -relationship, and what he gives you is given in the same way." - -The boy took it, exclaiming, "Thank you, Martin--thank you. Now I will -buy me a viol of my own; for neighbor Pierrot says I spoil his, just -because I make it give out sounds that he can not." - -"Ay, thou had'st always a hankering after music," said Martin Grille. -"Be diligent, be diligent. Petit Jean, and play me a fine tune on your -fiddle at my return; for we are all away to-morrow morning by the crow -of the cock." - -"Where to?" exclaimed Caboche, eagerly. "More wrangling toward, I -warrant. Some day I shall have to put on the salad and corselet -myself, for this strife is ruining France; and if the Duke of Orleans -will not let his noble cousin of Burgundy save the country, all good -men must join to force him." - -"Ay, ay, uncle. You always take a leap in the dark when the Duke of -Orleans' name is mentioned. There's no wrangling, there's no -quarreling, there's no strife. All is peace and good-will between the -two dukes; and this is no patched up business, but a regular treaty, -which will last till you are in your grave, and Petit Jean is an old -man. We shall see bright days yet, for all that's come and gone. But -the truth is, the duke is ill, and this business being happily -settled, he goes off for his Castle of Beauté to-morrow, to have a -little peace and quiet." - -"Ill! what makes him ill?" asked the cutler. "If he had to work from -morning till night to get a few sous, or to stand here in this cold -shop all day long, with nobody coming in to buy, he'd have a right to -be ill. But he has every thing he wants, and more than he ought to -have. What makes him ill?" - -"Ah, that I can't say," answered Martin Grille. "There has something -gone wrong in the household, and he has been very sad; but great men's -servants may use their eyes, but must hold their tongues. God mend us -all." - -"Much need of it," answered Caboche, "and him first. Well, I would -rather be a rag-picker out of the gutter than one of your discreet, -see-every thing, say-nothing serving-men--your curriers of favor, your -silent, secret depositories of other men's wickedness. What I see I -must speak, and what I think, too. It is the basest part of pimping, -to stand by and say nothing. Out upon such a trade." - -"Well, uncle, every one loves his own best," answered Martin Grille. -"I, for instance, would not make knives for people to cut each other's -throats with. But for my part, I think the best plan is for each man -to mind his own business, and not to care for what other people do. I -have no more business with my master's secrets than with his purse, -and if he trusts either the one or the other with me, my duty is to -keep them safely." - -By his tone, Martin Grille seemed a little nettled; but the rough -cutler only laughed at him, saying, "Mind, you do that, nephew of -mine, and you will be the very prince of valets. I never knew one who -would not finger the purse, or betray a secret, if occasion served; -but thou art a ph[oe]nix in thy way, so God speed thee and keep thee -honest." - -"I say amen," answered Martin Grille, turning to leave the booth; "I -only came to wish you both good-by; for when a man once sets out from -Paris there is no knowing when he may return again." - -"Oh, he is certain to come back some time," replied the cutler. "Paris -is the centre of all the world, and every thing is drawn toward it by -a force not to be resisted. So fare you well, my good nephew, and let -us see you when you come back." - -Martin promised to come and visit the cutler and his son as soon as he -returned, and then sauntered away, feeling himself as fine in his new -clothes as a school-boy in a holiday suit. - -The cutler resumed his avocations again; but could not forbear some -grumbling observations upon valets and valetry, which perhaps he might -have spared, had he understood his nephew's character rightly. About -quarter of an hour, however, after the young man had left the shop, a -letter, neatly tied and sealed, was brought by a young boy, apparently -one of the choristers of some great church or cathedral. It was -addressed "To Martin Grille;" and, whatever might be his curiosity, -Caboche did not venture to open it, but sent the lad on to the palace -of the Duke of Orleans, telling him he would find his nephew there. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - - -I know few things more pleasant than a stroll through Paris, as I -remember it, in a fine early winter's morning. There was an -originality about the people whom one saw out and abroad at that -period of the day--a gay, cheerful, pleasant originality--which is not -met with in any other nation. Granted that this laughing semblance was -but the striped skin of the tiger, and that underneath there was a -world of untamable ferocity, which made the cat-like creature -dangerous to play with; yet still the sight was an agreeable one, one -that the mind's eye rested upon with sensations of pleasure. The -sights, too, had generally something to interest or to amuse--very -often something that moved the feelings; but more generally something -having a touch of the burlesque in it, exciting a smile, though seldom -driving one into a laugh. - -Doubtless the same was the case on the morning when the Duke of -Orleans and his household set out from his brother's capital; for the -Parisians have always been Parisians, and that word, as far as history -shows us, has always meant one thing. It was very early in the -morning, too. The sun hardly tipped the towers of Nôtre Dame, or -gilded the darker and more sombre masses of the Châtelet. The most -matutinal classes--the gatherers of rags: the unhappy beings who -pilfered daily from unfastened doors and open entries: the peasants -coming into market: the laborers going out with ax or shovel: even the -roasters of chestnuts (coffee was then unknown) were all astir, and -many a merry cry to wake slumbering cooks and purveyors was heard -along the streets of the metropolis. Always cheerful except when -ferocious, the population of Paris was that day in gayer mood than -usual, for the news that a reconciliation had taken place between the -Dukes of Orleans and Burgundy, whose feuds had become wearisome as -well as detrimental, had spread far and wide during the preceding -evening, and men anticipated prosperous and peaceful times, after a -long period of turbulence and disaster. Seldom had the Duke of Orleans -gone forth from the metropolis in such peaceful array. Sometimes he -had galloped out in haste with a small body of attendants, hardly -enough in number to protect his person; sometimes he had marched -forward in warlike guise, to do battle with the enemy. But now he -proceeded quietly in a horse-litter, feeling himself neither very well -nor very ill. His saddle-horse, some pages, squires, and a few -men-at-arms followed close, and the rest of the attendants, who had -been selected to go with him, came after in little groups as they -mounted, two or three at a time. The whole cavalcade did not amount to -more than fifty persons--no great retinue for a prince of those days; -but yet, in its straggling disorder, it made a pretty long line -through the streets, and excited a good deal of attention in the -multitude as it passed. But the distance to the gates was not great, -and the whole party soon issued forth through the very narrow suburbs -which then surrounded the city, into the open country beyond. To tell -the truth, though the whole land was covered with the white garmenture -of winter, it was a great relief to Jean Charost to find his sight no -longer bounded by stone walls, and his chest no longer oppressed by -the heavy air of a great city. The sun sparkling on the snow, the -branches of the trees incrusted with frost, the clear blue sky without -a cloud, the river bridged with its own congealed waters, all reminded -him of early days and happy hours, and filled his mind with the memory -of rejoicing. - -One or two of the elder and superior officers of the duke's household -had mounted at the same time with himself, and were riding along close -by him. But there was no sympathetic tie between them; they were old, -and he was young; they were hackneyed in courts, and he was -inexperienced; they were accustomed to all the doings of the household -in which he dwelt, and to him every thing was fresh and new. Thus they -soon gathered apart, as it were, though they were perfectly courteous -and polite to the duke's new secretary; for by this time he was known -to all the attendants in that capacity, and the more politic heads -shrewdly calculated upon his acquiring, sooner or later, considerable -influence with their princely master. But they talked among themselves -of things they knew and understood, and of which he was utterly -ignorant; so that he was suffered to ride on with uninterrupted -thoughts, enjoying the wintery beauty of the landscape, while they -conversed of what had happened at St. Denis, or of the skirmish at -Toul, or of the march into Aquitaine, or gossiped a little scandal of -Madame De * * * * and Monsieur De * * * *. - -Insensibly the young man dropped behind, and might be said to be -riding alone, when an elderly man, in the habit of a priest, ambled up -to his side on a sleek, well-fed mule. His hair was very white, and -his countenance calm and benignant; but there was no very intellectual -expression in his face, and one might have felt inclined to pronounce -him, at the first glance, a very simple, good man, with more rectitude -than wit, more piety than learning. There would have been some mistake -in this, for Jean Charost soon found that he had read much, and -studied earnestly, supplying by perseverance and labor all that was -wanting in acuteness. - -"Good morning, my son," said the old man, in a frank and familiar -tone. "I believe I am speaking to Monsieur De Brecy, am I not? his -highness's secretary." - -"The same, sir," replied Jean Charost; "though I have not been long in -that office." - -"I know, I know," replied the good priest. "You were commended to his -favor by my good friend Jacques C[oe]ur. I was absent from the palace -till last night, or I would have seen you before. I am his highness's -chaplain and director--would to Heaven I could direct him right; but -these great men--" - -There he stopped, as if feeling himself treading upon dangerous -ground, and a pause ensued; for Jean Charost gave him no encouragement -to go on in any discussion of the duke's doings, of which probably he -knew as much as his confessor, without any great amount of information -either. - -The priest continued to jog on by his side, however, turning his head -very frequently, as if afraid of being pursued by something. Once he -muttered to himself, "I do believe he is coming on;" and then added, a -moment after, in a relieved tone, "No, it is Lomelini." - -They had not ridden far, after this exclamation, when they were joined -by the maître d'hôtel, who seemed on exceedingly good terms with the -chaplain, and rather in a merry mood. "Ah, Father Peter!" he -exclaimed; "you passed me in such haste, you would neither see nor -hear me. What was it lent wings to your mule?" - -"Oh, that fool, that fool!" cried the good father. "He has got on a -black cloak like yours, signor--stolen it from some one, I dare -say--and he declares he is a doctor of the university, and must needs -chop logic with me." - -"What was his thesis?" asked Lomelini, laughing heartily. "He is grand -at an argument, I know; and I have often heard him declare that he -likes to spoil a doctor of divinity." - -"It was no thesis at all," answered Father Peter. "He propounded a -question for debate, and asked me which of the seven capital sins was -the most capital. I told him they were all equally heinous; but he -contended that could not be, and said he would prove it by a -proposition divided into three parts and three members, each part -divided into six points--" - -"Let us hear," cried Lomelini. "Doubtless his parts and points were -very amusing. Let us hear them, by all means." - -"Why, I did not stay to hear them myself," replied Father Peter. "He -began by explaining and defining the seven capital sins; and fearing -some greater scandal--for all the boys were roaring with laughter--I -rode on and left him." - -"Ah, father, father! He will say that he has defeated you in -argument," replied Lomelini; and then added, with a sly glance at Jean -Charost, "the sharpest weapon in combat with a grave man is a jest." - -The good father looked quite distressed, as if to be defeated in -argument by a fool were really a serious disgrace. With the natural -kindliness of youth, Jean Charost felt for him, and, turning the -conversation, proceeded to inquire of the maître d'hôtel who and what -was the person who had driven the good chaplain so rapidly from the -field. - -"Oh, you will become well acquainted with him by-and-by, my son," -answered Lomelini, who still assumed a sort of paternal and -patronizing air toward the young secretary. "They call him the -Seigneur André in the household, and his lordship makes himself known -to every body--sometimes not very pleasantly. He is merely the duke's -fool, however, kept more for amusement than for service, and more for -fashion even than amusement; for at bottom he is a dull fellow; but he -contrives occasionally to stir up the choler of the old gentlemen, -and, when the duke is in a gay humor, makes him laugh with their -anger." - -"To be angry with a fool is to show one's self little better than a -fool, methinks," answered Jean Charost; but Lomelini shook his head, -with his usual quiet smile, saying, "Do not be too sure that he will -not provoke you, Monsieur De Brecy. He has a vast fund of malice, -though no great fund of wit, and, as you may see, can contrive to -torment very grave and reverend personages. I promised you a hint from -time to time, and one may not be thrown away in regard to Seigneur -André. There are two or three ways of dealing with him which are sure -to put him down. First, the way which Monsieur Blaize takes: never to -speak to him at all. When he addresses any of his witticisms to our -good friend, Monsieur Blaize stares quietly in his face, as if he -spoke to him in an unknown tongue, and takes care not to give him a -single word as a peg to hang a rejoinder upon. Another way is to break -his head, if he be over saucy, for he is mighty careful of his person, -and has never attacked young Juvenel de Royans since he cuffed him one -morning to his heart's content. He has no reverence for any thing, -indeed, but punishment and fisticuffs. He ventured at first to break -his jests on me, for whom, though a very humble personage, his -highness's officers generally have some respect." - -"May I ask how you put a stop to this practice?" asked Jean Charost. - -"Oh, very easily," replied the maître d'hôtel. "I listened to all he -had to say quietly, answered him as best I might, a little to the -amusement of the by-standers, and did not fare altogether ill in the -encounter; but Seigneur André found his _levrée_ for supper somewhat -scanty and poor that night. He had a small loaf of brown bread, a -pickled herring, and some very sour wine. Though it was all in order, -and he had wine, fish, and bread, according to the regulations of the -household for evening _levrées_, he thought fit to complain to the -master-cook. The cook told him that all his orders were taken from me. -He did not know what to make of this, but was very peaceable for a day -or two afterward. Then he forgot his lesson, and began his -impertinence again. He had another dose that night of brown bread, -salt herring, and vinegar, and it made so deep an impression on his -mind that he has not forgotten it yet." - -"Well, I do think it is impious," said Father Peter, in a tone of -melancholy gravity. "I do, indeed." - -"What, to give a fool a pickled herring as a sort of corrective of bad -humors?" asked Lomelini. - -"No, no," replied the chaplain, peevishly "But to keep such poor, -benighted creatures in great houses for the purpose of extracting -merriment from their infirmities. It is making a mockery of the -chastisement of God." - -"Pooh, pooh," said Lomelini. "What can you do with them? If you do not -keep them in great houses, you would be obliged to shut them up in -little ones; and, I will answer for it, Seigneur André would rather be -kept as a fool in the palace of the Duke of Orleans than pent up as a -madman in the hospitals. But here he comes to answer for himself." - -"Then I won't stay to hear him," cried the chaplain, putting his mule -into a quicker pace, and riding on after the litter of the Duke of -Orleans, which was not above two hundred yards in advance. - -"There he goes," cried Signor Lomelini. "Poor man! this fool is a -complete bugbear to him. To Father Peter he is like a gnat, or a great -fly, which keeps buzzing about our ears all night, and gives us -neither peace nor rest." - -As he spoke, the personage who had been so long the subject of their -conversation rode up, presenting to the eyes of Jean Charost a very -different sort of man from that which he had expected to see, and, in -truth, a very different personage altogether from the poetical idea of -the jester which has been furnished to us by Shakspeare and others. -Seigneur André, indeed, was not one of the most famous of his class, -and he has neither been embalmed in fiction nor enrolled in history. -The exceptions I believe, in truth have been taken generally for the -types, and if we could trace the sayings and doings of all the jesters -downward from the days of Charlemagne, we should find that nine -out of ten were very dull people indeed. His lordship was a fat, -gross-looking man of the middle age, with a countenance expressive of -a good deal of sensuality--dull and heavy-looking, with a nose glowing -with wine; bushy, overhanging eyebrows, and a fat, liquorish under -lip. His stomach was large and protuberant, and his legs short; but -still he rode his horse with a good, firm seat, though with what -seemed to the eyes of Jean Charost a good deal of affected awkwardness -of manner. There was an expression of fun and joviality about his -face, it is true, which was a very good precursor to a joke, and, like -the sauce of a French cook's composing, which often gives zest to a -very insipid morsel, it made many a dull jest pass for wit. His eye, -indeed, had an occasional fire in it, wild, wandering, mysterious, -lighted up and going out on a sudden, which to a physician might -probably have indicated the existence of some degree of mental -derangement, but which, with ordinary persons, served at once to -excite and puzzle curiosity. - -"Ah, reverend signor," he exclaimed, as he pulled up his horse by -Lomelini's side, "I am glad to find you so far in advance. It betokens -that all good things of life will be provided for--that we shall not -have to wait three hours at Juvisy for dinner, nor be treated with -goat's flesh and rye bread, sour wine and stale salad." - -"That depends upon circumstances, Seigneur André," replied Lomelini. -"That his highness shall have a good dinner, I have provided for; but, -good faith, the household must look out for themselves. In any other -weather you would find eggs enough, and the water is generally -excellent, but now it is frozen. But let me introduce you to Monsieur -De Brecy, his highness's secretary." - -"Ha! I kiss his fingers," cried the jester. "I asked for him all -yesterday, hearing of his advent, but was not blessed with his -presence. They told me he was in the nursery, and verily he seems a -blessed babe. May I inquire how old you are, Signor De Brecy?" - -"Like yourself, Seigneur André," replied Jean Charost, with a smile; -"old enough to be wiser." - -"Marvelous well answered!" exclaimed the jester. "The dear infant is a -prodigy! Did you ever see any thing like that?" he continued, throwing -back his black cloak, and exhibiting his large stomach, dressed in his -party-colored garments, almost resting on the saddle-bow. - -"Yes, often," answered Jean Charost. "I have seen it in men too lazy -to keep down the flesh, too fond of good things to refrain from what -is killing them, and too dull in the brain to let the wit ever wear -the body." - -A sort of wild, angry fire came up in the jester's face, and he -answered, "Let me tell you there is more wit in that stomach than ever -you can digest." - -"Perhaps so," answered Jean Charost. "I doubt not in the least you -have more brain under your belt than under your cap; but it is -somewhat soft, I should think, in both places." - -Signor Lomelini laughed, but at the same time made a sign to his young -companion to forbear, saying, in a low tone, "He won't forgive you -easily, already. Don't provoke him farther. Here we are coming to that -accursed hill of Juvisy, Seigneur André. Don't you see the town lying -down there, like an egg in the nest of a long-tailed titmouse?" - -"Or like a bit of sugar left at the bottom of a bowl of mulled wine," -replied the jester. "But, be it egg or be it sugar, the horses of his -highness seem inclined to get at it very fast." - -His words first called the attention of both Lomelini and Jean Charost -to what was going on before them, and the latter perceived with dismay -that the horses in the litter--a curious and ill-contrived sort of -vehicle--which had been going very slowly till they reached the top of -the high hill of Juvisy, had begun to trot, and then to canter, and -were now in high course toward a full gallop. The man who drove them, -usually walking at the side, was now running after them as fast as he -could go, and apparently shouting to them to stop, though his words -were as unheeded by the horses as unheard by Jean Charost. - -"Had we not better ride on and help?" asked the young gentleman, -eagerly. - -Lomelini shrugged his shoulders, replying, with a sort of fatalism -hardly less ordinary in Italians than in Turks, "What will be, will -be;" and the jester answered, "Good faith! though they call me fool, -yet I have as much regard for my skin as any of them; so I shall not -trot down the hill." - -Jean Charost hardly heard the end of the sentence, for he saw that the -horses of the litter were accelerating their pace at every instant, -and he feared that some serious accident would happen. The duke was -seen at the same moment to put forth his head, calling sharply to the -driver, and the young secretary, without more ado, urged his horse on -at the risk of his own neck, and, taking a little circuit which the -broadness of the road permitted, tried to reach the front horse of the -litter without scaring him into greater speed. He passed two groups of -the duke's attendants before he came near the vehicle, but all seemed -to take as much or as little interest in their master's safety as -Lomelini and the jester, uttering, as the young man passed, some wild -exclamations of alarm at the duke's peril, but taking no means on -earth to avert it. - -Jean Charost did not pause or stop to inquire, however, but dashed on, -passed the litter, and got in front of the horses just at the moment -that one of them stumbled and fell. - -There was a steep, precipitous descent over the hillside, as the old -road ran, down which there was the greatest possible risk of the -vehicle being thrown; but, luckily, one of the shafts broke, and Jean -Charost was in time to prevent the horse from doing any further -damage, as he sprang up from his bleeding knees. - -While the young man, jumping from the saddle, held the horses tight by -the bridle, the driver and half a dozen attendants hurried up and -assisted the prince to alight. Their faces were now pale and anxious -enough; but the countenance of the duke himself was as calm and -tranquil as if he had encountered no danger. Lomelini and the jester -were soon upon the spot; and the latter thought fit to remark, with a -sagacious air, that haste spoiled speed. "Your highness went too -fast," he said; "and this young gentleman went faster still. You were -likely to be at the bottom of the hill of Juvisy before you desired -it, and he had nearly sent you thither sooner still in trying to stop -you." - -"You are mistaken, Seigneur André," said the duke, gravely. "The horse -fell before he touched it; and even had it not been so, I would always -rather see too much zeal than too little. He came in time, however, to -prevent the litter going over." - -Two of the squires instantly led forward horses for the prince to -ride, as the litter, in its damaged state, was no longer serviceable. -But the duke replied, "No, I will walk. Give me your arm, De Brecy; it -is but a step now." - -The little accident which had occurred undoubtedly served to confirm -Jean Charost in the favor of the Duke of Orleans; but, at the same -time, it made him a host of enemies. The tenants of a wasp's nest are -probably not half as malicious as the household of a great man. The -words of the jester had given them their cue, and the report ran -through all the little cavalcade that Jean Charost had thrown the -horse down in attempting to stop it. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - - -There are periods in the life of every man daring which accidents, -misadventures, annoyances even, if they be not of too great magnitude, -are of service to him. When, from within or from without, some dark -vapor has risen up, clouding the sunlight, and casting the soul into -darkness--when remorse, or despair, or bitter disappointment, or -satiety, or the dark pall of grief, has overshadowed all things, and -left us in a sort of twilight, where we see every surrounding object -in gloom, we bless the gale, even though it be violent, that arises to -sweep the tempest-cloud from our sky. Still greater is the relief when -any thing of a gentler and happier kind comes along with the breeze -that dispels the mists and darkness, like a sun-gleam through a storm; -and the little accident which had occurred, and the escape from -danger, did a great deal to rouse the Duke of Orleans from a sort of -apathetic heaviness which had hung upon him for the last two or three -days. - -Dinner had been prepared for him at the great inn at Juvisy; but, with -one of those whims in which high and mighty princes indulged -frequently in those days, he paused before the gates of the old abbey, -on the left hand side of the road, saying, in a low tone, to Jean -Charost, but with a gay smile, "We will go in and dine with the good -fathers. They are somewhat famous for their cheer, and it must be -about the dinner hour." - -The little crowd of attendants had followed; slowly behind their -princely master, leaving the distance of a few paces between him and -them, for reverence' sake; and he now beckoned up Lomelini, and told -him to go forward and let the household dine, adding, "We will dine at -the abbey." - -"How many shall remain with your highness?" asked Lomelini, with a -profound bow. - -"None, signor," replied the duke; "none but Monsieur De Brecy. Go -on--I would be incognito;" and turning up the path, he struck the bell -at the gates with the iron hammer that hung beside it. - -"Now, De Brecy," he said, in a light and careless tone, very different -from any his young companion had ever heard him use before, "here we -forget our names and dignities. I am Louis Valois, and you Jean -Charost, and there are no titles of honor between us. Some of the good -friars may have seen me, and perhaps know me; but they will take the -hint, and forget all about me till I am gone. I would fain see them -without their frocks for awhile. It will serve to divert my thoughts -from sadder things." - -With a slow and faltering step, and mumbling something, apparently not -very pleasant, as he came, an old monk walked down to the _grille_ or -iron gate of the convent, with the keys in his hand indeed, but an -evident determination not to use them, except in case of necessity. -Seeing two strangers standing at the gate, he first spoke with them -through the bars, and it required some persuasion to induce him to -open and let them pass, although, to say sooth, the duke's -announcement that he came to ask the hospitality of the refectory, was -spoken more as a command than a petition, notwithstanding the air of -easy familiarity which he sought to give it. - -"Well, well; come in," he said, at length; "I have nothing to do with -it, but to open and shut the door. The people within will tell you -whether you can eat with them or not. They eat enough themselves, God -wot, and drink too; but they are not over-fond of sharing with those -they don't know, except through the buttery hole or the east wicket; -and there it is only what they can't eat themselves. Ay, we had -different times of it when Abbot Jerome was alive." - -Before the long fit of grumbling was at an end, the Duke of Orleans -and his young companion were at the inner door of the building; and a -little bell, ringing from a distant corner, gave notice that the -mid-day meal of the monks was about to begin. - -"Come along--come along, Jean," said the duke, seeming to participate -in the eagerness with which several monks were hurrying along in one -direction; "they say the end of a feast is better than the beginning -of a fray; but, to say truth, the beginning is the best part of -either." - -On they went; no one stopped them--no one said a word to them. The -impulse of a very voracious appetite was upon the great body of the -monks, and deprived them of all inclination to question the strangers, -till they were actually at the door of the refectory, where a burly, -barefooted fellow barred the way, and demanded what they wanted. "A -dinner," answered the Duke of Orleans, with a laugh. "You are -hospitable friars, are you not?" - -The man gazed at him for a moment without reply, but with a very -curious expression of countenance, ran his eye over the duke's -apparel, which, though by no means very splendid, was marked by all -the peculiar fopperies of high station; then gave a glance at Jean -Charost, and then replied, in a much altered tone, "We are, sir. But -it so happens that to-day my lord abbot has visitors who dine here. -Doubtless he will not refuse you hospitality, if you let him know who -it is demands it. He has with him Monsieur and Madame Giac, and their -train, high persons at the court of Burgundy. Who shall I say are -here?" - -"Two poor simple gentlemen in need of a dinner," replied the duke, in -a careless tone--"Louis Valois and Jean Charost by name. But make -haste, good brother, or the pottage will be cold." - -The man retired into the refectory, the door of which was continually -opening and shutting as the monks passed in; and Jean Charost, who -stood a little to the right of the duke, could see the monk hurry -forward toward a gay party already seated at the head of one of the -long tables, with the abbot in the midst. - -He returned in a few seconds with another monk, and ushered the duke -and his young companion straight up to the table of the abbot, an -elderly man of jovial aspect, who seemed a little confused and -embarrassed. He rose, sat down again, rose, once more, and advanced a -step or two. - -The Duke of Orleans met him half way with a meaning smile, and a few -words passed in a low tone, the import of which Jean Charost did not -hear. The duke, however, immediately after, moved to a vacant seat -some way down the table, and beckoned Jean Charost to take a place -beside him. The young secretary obeyed, and had a full opportunity, -before a somewhat long grace was ended, of scanning the faces of the -guests who sat above him. - -On the abbot's right hand was a gentleman of some forty years of age, -gayly dressed, but of a countenance by no means prepossessing, cold, -calculating, yet harsh; and next to him was placed a young girl of -some thirteen or fourteen years of age, not at that time particularly -remarkable for her beauty, but yet with an expression of countenance -which, once seen, was not easily to be forgotten. That expression is -difficult to be described, but it possessed that which, as far as we -can judge from very poor and not very certain portraits, was much -wanting in the countenances of most French women of the day. There was -soul in it--a look blending thought and feeling--with much firmness -and decision even about the small, beautiful mouth, but a world of -soft tenderness in the eyes. - -On the other side of the abbot sat a gay and beautiful lady, in the -early prime of life, with her face beaming with witching smiles; and -Jean Charost could not help thinking he saw a very meaning glance pass -between the Duke of Orleans and herself. No one at the table, indeed, -openly recognized the prince; and, although the young secretary had -little doubt that his royal master was known to more than one there -present, it was clear the great body of the monks were ignorant that -he was among them. - -The fare upon the table did not by any means belie the reputation of -the convent. Delicate meats, well cooked; fish in abundance, and of -various kinds; game of every sort the country produced; and wine of -exceedingly delicate flavor, showed how completely field, forest, -tank, and vineyard were laid under tribute by the good friars of -Juvisy. Nor did the monks seem to mortify their tongues more than the -rest of their bodies. Merriment, revelry--sometimes wit, sometimes -buffoonery--and conversation, often profane, and often obscene, ran -along the table without any show of reverence for ears that might be -listening. The young man had heard of such things, but had hardly -believed the tale; and not a little scandalized was he, in his -simplicity, at all he saw and heard. That which confounded him more -than all the rest, however, was the demeanor of the Duke of Orleans. -He did not know how often painful feelings and sensations take refuge -in things the most opposite to themselves--how grief will strive to -drown itself in the flood of revelry--how men strive to sweeten the -cup of pain with the wild honey-drops of pleasure. From the first -moment of his introduction to the duke up to that hour, he had seen -him under but one aspect. He had been grave, sad, thoughtful, gloomy. -Health itself had seemed affected by some secret sorrow; and now every -thing was changed in a moment. He mingled gayly, lightly in the -conversation, gave back jest for jest with flashing repartee, -encouraged and shared in the revelry around him, and drank liberally, -although there was a glowing spot in his cheek which seemed to say -there was a fire within which wanted no such feeding. - -The characters around would bear a long description; for monastic -life--begun generally when habits of thought were fixed--had not the -power ascribed by a great orator to education, of dissolving the -original characters of men, and recrystallizing them in a different -form. At one part of the table there was the rude broad jester, -rolling his fat body within his wide gown, and laughing riotously at -his own jokes. At a little distance sat the keen bright satirist, full -of flashes of wit and sarcasm, but as fond of earthly pleasures as all -the rest; and a little nearer was the man of sly quiet humor, as grave -as a judge himself, but causing all around him to roar with laughter. -The abbot, overflowing with the good things of this life, and enjoying -them still with undiminished powers, notwithstanding the sixty years -and more which had passed over his head, was evidently well accustomed -to the somewhat irreverent demeanor of his refectory, and probably -might not have relished his dinner without the zest of its jokes. -Certain it is, at all events, though his own parlor was a more -comfortable room, and universal custom justified his dining in -solitude, he was seldom absent at the hour of dinner, and only -abstained from being present at supper likewise, lest he should hear -and see more than could be well passed over in safety. - -When the meal was at an end, however, the abbot rose, and, inviting -his lay guests to his own particular apartments, left his monks to -conduct the exercises of the afternoon as they might think fit. With -his cross-bearer before him, he led the way, followed by the rest in -the order which the narrowness of the passages compelled them to take; -and Jean Charost found himself coupled, for the time, with the young -girl he had seen on the opposite side of the table. He was too much of -a Frenchman to hesitate for a moment in addressing her; for, in that -country, silence in a woman's society is generally supposed to proceed -either from awkwardness or rudeness. She answered with as little -constraint; and they were in the full flow of conversation when they -entered a well-tapestried room, which, though large in itself, seemed -small after the great hall of the refectory. - -The abbot, and the nobleman who had sat by his side, in whom Jean -Charost recognized the Monsieur De Giac whom he had seen by torch-light -in the streets of Paris, were already talking to each other with some -eagerness, while the Duke of Orleans followed a step or two behind, -conversing in low tones with the beautiful lady who had sat upon the -abbot's other hand. - -Gay and light seemed their conference; and both laughed, and both -smiled, and both whispered, but not apparently from any reverence for -the persons or place around them. But no one took any notice. Monsieur -De Giac was very blind to his wife's coquetry, and the abbot was well -accustomed to the feat of shutting his eyes without dropping his -eyelids. Nay, he seemed to think the merriment hardly sufficient for -the occasion; for he ordered more wines to be brought, and those the -most choice and delicate of his cellar, with various preserved fruits, -gently to stimulate the throat to deeper potations. - -"Not very reverend," said Jean Charost, in answer to some observation -of the young lady, shortly after they entered, while the rest remained -scattered about in different groups. "I wonder if every monastery -throughout France is like this." - -"Very like, indeed," answered his fair companion, with a smile. -"Surely this is not the first religious house you have ever visited." - -"The first of its kind," replied Jean Charost; "I have been often in -the Black Friars at Bourges, but their rule is somewhat more austere, -or more austerely practiced." - -"Poor people," said the girl. "It is to be hoped there is a heaven, -for their sakes. These good folks seem to think themselves well enough -where they are, without going further. But in sorry truth, all -monasteries are very much like this--those that I have seen, at -least." - -"And nunneries?" asked Jean Charost. - -"Somewhat better," she answered, with a sigh. "Whatever faults women -may have, they are not such coarse ones as we have seen here to-night; -but I know not much about them, for I have been long enough in one -only to judge of it rightly; and now I feel like a bird with its -prison doors unclosed, because I am going to join the court of the -Queen of Anjou: that does not speak ill of the nunnery, methinks. Who -knows, if they reveled as loud and high there as here, but I might -have loved to remain." - -"I think not," answered her young companion, "if I may judge by your -face at dinner. You seemed not to smile on the revels of the monks." - -"They made my head ache," answered the girl; and then added, abruptly, -"so you are an observer of faces, are you? What think you of that face -speaking with the abbot?" - -"Nay, he may be your father, brother, or any near relation," answered -Jean Charost. "I shall not speak till I know more." - -"Oh, he is nothing to me," replied the girl. "He is my noble Lord of -Giac, who does me the great honor, with my lady, his wife, of -conveying me to Beaugency, where we shall overtake the Queen of Anjou. -His face would not curdle milk, nor turn wine sour; but yet there is -something in it not of honey exactly." - -"He seems to leave all the honey to his fair lady," replied Jean -Charost. - -"Yes, to catch flies with," replied the girl; and then she added, in a -lower tone, "and he is the spider to eat them." - -The wine and the preserved fruits had by this time been placed upon a -large marble table in the centre of the hall; and a fair sight they -made, with the silver flagons, and the gold and jeweled cups, spread -out upon that white expanse, beneath the gray and fretted arches -overhead, while on the several groups around in their gay apparel, and -the abbot in his robes, standing by the table, with a serving brother -at his side, the many-colored light shone strongly through the window -of painted glass. - -"Here's to you, noble sir, whom I am to call Louis Valois, and to your -young friend, Jean Charost," said the abbot, bowing to the duke, and -raising a cup he had just filled. "I pray you do me justice in this -excellent wine of Nuits." - -"I will but sip, my lord," replied the duke, taking up a cup. "I have -drank enough already somewhat to heat me." - -"Nay, nay, good gentleman," cried the fair lady with whom he had been -talking, "let me fill for you! Drink fair with the lord abbot, for -very shame, or I will inform the Duke of Orleans, who passes here, -they say, to-day." - -The last words were uttered with a meaning smile; but the duke let her -pour the wine out for him, drank it down, and then, with a graceful -inclination to the company, took a step toward the door, saying, "The -Duke of Orleans has gone by, madam. At least, his train passed us -while we were at the gates. My lord abbot, I give you a thousand -thanks for your hospitality. Ladies all, farewell;" and then passing -Madame De Giac, he added, in a whisper, which reached, however, the -ears of Jean Charost who was following. "In Paris, then." - -The lady made no answer with her lips; but her eyes spoke -sufficiently, and to the thoughts of Jean Charost somewhat too much. - -The serving brother opened the door of the parlor for the guests to -pass out, and he had not yet closed it, when the name of the Duke of -Orleans was repeated from more than one voice within, and a merry peal -of laughter followed. - -The duke hastened his steps, holding the arm of his young companion; -and though the smile still lingered on his lips for awhile, yet before -they had reached the gate of the convent, it had passed away. -Gradually he fell into a fit of deep thought, which lasted till they -nearly descended to Juvisy. Then, however, he roused himself, and -said, with an abrupt laugh, "I sometimes think men of pleasure are -mad, De Brecy." - -"I think so too, your highness," replied Jean Charost. - -The duke started, and looked suddenly in his face; but all was calm -and simple there; and, after a moment's silence, the prince rejoined, -"Too true, my young friend; too true! A lucid interval often comes -upon them, full of high purposes and good resolves: they see light, -and truth, and reality for a few short hours, when suddenly some -accident--some trifle brings the fit again, and all is darkness and -delusion, delirious dreams, and actions of a madman. I have heard of a -bridge built of broken porcelain; and such is the life of a man of -pleasure. The bridge over which his course lies, from time to -eternity, is built of broken resolutions, and himself the architect." - -"A frail structure, my lord, by which to reach heaven," replied Jean -Charost, "and methinks some strong beams across would make us surer of -even reaching earthly happiness." - -"Where can one find them?" asked the duke. - -"In a strong will," answered Jean Charost. - -The duke mused for a moment or two, and then suddenly changed the -conversation, saying, "Who was the girl you were speaking with?" - -"In truth, your highness, I do not know," replied Jean Charost. "She -said that she was going, under the escort of Monsieur and Madame De -Giac, to Beaugency." - -"Oh, then, I know," replied the duke. "It is the fair Agnes, whom my -good aunt talked about. They say she has a wit quite beyond her years. -Did you find it so?" - -"I can not tell," replied Jean Charost, "for I do not know her age. -She seemed to me quite a girl; and yet spoke like one who thought much -and deeply." - -"You were well matched," said the duke, gayly; and, at the same -moment, some of his attendants came up, and the conversation stopped -for the time. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - - -The cool twilight of a fine winter's evening filled the air as the -train of the Duke of Orleans approached his château of Beauté. -Standing on a high bank, with the river flowing in sight, and catching -the last rosy rays, which still lingered in the sky after the sun was -set, the house presented a grand, rather than a graceful appearance, -though it was from the combination of beautiful forms and rich -decoration with the defensive strength absolutely requisite in all -country mansions at that day, that it derived its name of Beauté. The -litter had been repaired at Juvisy, and the Duke of Orleans had taken -possession of it again; but as the cavalcade wound up the ascent -toward the castle, the prince put his head out, and ordered one of the -nearest attendants to call Lomelini to him. - -"I am ill, Lomelini," he said, as soon as the maître d'hôtel rode up; -"I am ill. Go forward and see that my bed-chamber is prepared." - -"Had I not better send back for your highness's chirurgeon?" asked -Lomelini. "'Tis a pity he was left behind in Paris." - -"No, no," replied the prince; "let him stay where he is. He overwhelms -me with his talk of phlebotomy and humors, his calculations of the -moon, and his caption of fortunate hours. 'Tis but a little sickness -that will pass. Besides, there is the man at Corbeil. He can let -blood, or compound a cooling potion." - -As soon as the cavalcade had entered the court-yard of the château, the -duke was assisted from his litter, and retired at once to his chamber, -leaning upon the arm of Lomelini, who was all attention and humble -devotion. The rest of the party then scattered in different -directions, most of those present knowing well where to betake -themselves, and each seeking the dwelling-place to which he was -accustomed. Jean Charost, however, had no notion where he was to -lodge, and now, for the first time, came into play the abilities of -his new servant, Martin Grille. His horses were stabled in a -minute--whether in the right place or not, Martin stopped not to -inquire--and, the moment that was done, divining well the -embarrassment of an inexperienced master, the good man darted hither -and thither, acquiring very rapidly, from the different varlets and -pages, a vast amount of information regarding the château and its -customs. - -He found Jean Charost walking up and down a large hall, which opened -directly, without any vestibule, from the principal door of entrance, -and plunged so deeply was he in meditation, that he seemed to see none -of the persons who were passing busily to and fro around him. The -revery was deep, and something more: it was not altogether pleasant. -Who, in the cares and anxieties of mature life, does not sometimes -pause and look back wistfully to the calmer days of childhood, decking -them with fanciful memories of joys and sports, and burying in -forgetfulness the troubles and sorrows which seemed severe at the -time. The two spirits that are in man, indeed, never exercise their -influence more strongly in opposition than in prompting the desire for -peace, and the eagerness for action. - -Jean Charost was busy at the moment with the unprofitable, fruitless -comparison of the condition in which he had lately lived and his -present station. The calm and tranquil routine of ordinary business; -the daily occupation, somewhat monotonous, but without anxiety, or -even expectation; the peaceful hours for study, for thought, or for -exercise, when not engaged in the service of no very exacting master, -acquired a new and extraordinary interest in his eyes now that -ambition was gratified, and he appeared to be in the road to honor and -success. It was not that he was tired of the Duke of Orleans's -service: it was not that he misappreciated the favors he received, or -the kindness with which he had been treated; but the look back or the -look forward makes a great difference in our estimate of events and -circumstances, and he felt that full appreciation of the past which -nothing that is not past can altogether command. Yet, if he strove to -fix upon any point in regard to which he had been disappointed, he -found it difficult to do so. But there was something in the whole -which created in his breast a general feeling of depression. There was -a sensation of anxiety, and doubt, and suspicion in regard to all that -surrounded him. A dim sort of mist of uncertainty hung over the whole, -which, to his daylight-loving mind, was very painful. One half of what -he saw or heard he did not comprehend. Men seemed to be speaking in a -strange, unlearned language--to be acting a mystery, the secret of -which would not be developed till near the end; and he was pondering -over all these things, and asking himself how he should act in the -midst of them, when Martin Grille approached, and, in a low tone, told -him all that he had discovered, offering to show him where the -secretary's apartments were situated. - -"But can I be sure that the same rooms are destined for me?" asked -Jean Charost. - -"Take them, sir, take them," answered Martin Grille; "that is to say, -if they are good, and suit you. The only quality that is not valued at -a court is modesty. It is always better to seize what you can get, and -the difficulty of dispossessing you, nine times out of ten, makes men -leave you what you have taken. Signor Lomelini is still with the duke; -so that you can ask him no questions. You must be lodged some where, -so you had better lodge yourself." - -Jean Charost thought the advice was good, especially as night had by -this time fallen, and a single cresset in the hall afforded the only -light, except when some one passed by with a lamp in his hand. He -followed Martin Grille, therefore, and was just issuing forth, when -Juvenel de Royans, and another young man of the same age, came in by -the same door out of which he was going. At the sight of the young -secretary, De Royans drew back with a look of affected reverence, and -a low inclination of the head, and then burst into a loud laugh. Jean -Charost gazed at him with a cold, unmoved look, expressive, perhaps, -of surprise, but nothing else, and then passed on his way. - -"Those gentlemen will bring themselves into trouble before they have -done," said Martin Grille. "That Monsieur De Royans is already deep in -the bad books." - -"No deeper than he deserves," answered Jean Charost. "But perhaps they -may find they have made a mistake before they have done." - -"Ah, good sir, never quarrel with a courtier," said the servant. "They -are like wary fencers, and try to put a man in a passion in order to -throw him off his guard. But here are your rooms, at the end of this -passage. That door is the back entrance to the duke's apartments. The -front is on the other corridor." - -With some lingering still of doubt, Jean Charost took possession of -the rooms, which he found more convenient than those he had inhabited -in Paris, and, by the aid of Martin Grille, all was speedily put in -order. The hour of supper soon arrived, and, descending to the general -table of the household, he found a place reserved for him by Monsieur -Blaize, but a good deal of strange coldness in the manners of all -around. Even the old _écuyer_ himself was somewhat distant and -reserved; and it was not till long afterward that Jean Charost -discovered how much malice any marks of favor from a prince can -excite, and to how much falsehood such malice may give birth. His -attempt to stop the horses of the litter had been severely commented -on, as an act of impertinent forwardness, by all those who ought to -have done it themselves; and they and every one else agreed, -notwithstanding the duke's own words, that the attempt had only served -to throw one of the horses down. The only person who seemed cordial at -the table was the good priest, Father Peter; but the chaplain could -afford very little of his conversation to his young friend, being -himself, during the whole meal, the butt of the jester's wit, to which -he could not refrain from replying, although, to say sooth, he got -somewhat worsted in the encounter. All present were tired, however, -and all retired soon to rest, with the exception of Jean Charost, who -sat up in his bed-room for two or three hours, laying out for himself -a course of conduct which would save him, as far as possible, from all -minor annoyances. Nor was that course altogether ill devised for the -attainment of even higher objects than he proposed. - -"I will live in this household," he thought, "as far as possible, by -myself. I will seek my own amusements apart, if I can but discover at -what time the duke is likely to want me. Any who wish for my society -shall seek it, and I will, keep all familiarity at a distance. I will -endeavor to avoid all quarrels with them; but, if I am forced into -one, I will try to make my opponent rue it." - -At an early hour on the following morning the young man went forth to -inquire after the duke's health, and learned from one of the -attendants at his door that he had passed a bad and feverish night. "I -was bidden to tell you, sir," said the man, "if you presented -yourself, that his highness would like to see you at three this -evening, but will not want you till then." - -This intimation was a relief to Jean Charost; and, returning to his -room, where he had left Martin Grille, he told him to prepare both -their horses for along ride. - -"Before breakfast, sir?" asked the man. - -"Yes, immediately," replied the young secretary. "We will breakfast -somewhere, Martin, and dine somewhere too; but I wish to explore the -country, which seemed beautiful enough as we rode along." - -"Monstrous white, sir," replied Martin Grille. "However, you had -better take some arms with you, for we may chance to miss the -high-road, I being in no way topographical. The country in this -neighborhood does not bear the best reputation." - -Jean Charost laughed at his fears, and ere half an hour was over they -were on their horses' backs and away. The morning was bright and -pleasant, notwithstanding the keen frostiness of the air. Not a breath -of wind stirred the trees, and the sun was shining cheerfully, though -his rays had no effect upon the snow. There was a silence, too, over -the whole scene, as soon as the immediate vicinity of the castle was -passed, which was pleasant to Jean Charost, cooped up as he had been -for several months previously in the close atmosphere of a town. From -a slow walk, he urged his horse on into a trot, from a trot into a -canter, and when at length the wood which mantled the castle was -passed, and the road opened out upon the rounded side of the hill, -boyhood's fountain of light spirits seemed reopened in his heart, and -he urged his horse on into a wild gallop over the nearly level ground -at the top. - -Martin Grille came panting after. He was not one of the best horsemen -in the world, and, though he clung pretty fast to his steed's back, he -was awfully shaken. That gay gallop, however, had a powerful moral -effect upon the good varlet. Bad horsemen have always a great -reverence for good ones. Martin Grille's esteem for his master's -talents had been but small before, simply because his own worldly -experience, his intimate knowledge of all tricks and contrivances, and -the facile impudence and fertility of resources, which he possessed as -the hereditary right of a Parisian of the lower orders, had enabled -him to direct and counsel in a thousand trifles which had embarrassed -Jean Charost simply because he had been unaccustomed to deal with -them. But now, when Martin saw his easy mastery of the strong horse, -and the light rein, the graceful seat, the joyous hilarity of aspect -with which the young man bounded along, while he himself was clinging -tight to the saddle with a fearful pressure, the sight made him feel -an inferiority which he had never acknowledged to himself before. - -At length, Jean Charost stopped, looked round and smiled, and Martin -Grille, riding up, exclaimed, in a half-dolorous half-laughing tone, -"Spare me, sir, I beseech you. You forget I am not accustomed to such -wild capers. Every man is awkward, I find, in a new situation; and -though I can get on pretty well at procession pace, if my horse -neither kicks nor stumbles, I would rather be excused galloping over -hillsides, for a fortnight at least, till my leather and his leather -are better acquainted." - -"Well, well," answered his master, "we will go a little more slowly, -though we must have a canter now and then, if but to make the snow -fly. We will ride on straight for that village where the church tower -is peeping up over the opposite side of the hill." - -"There is a thick wood between us and it," said Martin Grille. - -"Doubtless the wood has a road through it," answered his master; and, -without further discussion, rode on. - -The wood, or rather forest--for it was a limb of the great forest of -Corbeil--of which Martin Grille spoke, lay in the hollow between two -gentle ranges of hills, upon one of which he and his master were -placed at the moment. It was deeper, more extensive, and more -intricate than it had appeared to Jean Charost, seeing across from -slope to slope, but not high enough to look down upon it as a map. As -he directed his horse toward it, however, he soon came upon a road -marked out by the track of horses, oxen, and carts, showing that many -a person and many a vehicle had passed along it since the snow had -fallen; and even had he clearly comprehended that his servant really -entertained any apprehensions at all, he would only have laughed at -them. - -On entering the wood, the snow upon the ground, shining through the -bare stems of the trees and the thin, brown branches of the underwood, -at first showed every object on either hand for several yards into the -thicket. Even the footprints of the hare and the roe-deer could be -seen; and Jean Charost, well accustomed to forest sports in his -boyhood, paused at one spot, where the bushes were a good deal beaten -down, to point out the marks to his servant, and say, "A boar has been -through here." - -Some way further on, the wood became thicker, oaks and rapidly -deciduous trees gave way to the long-persistent beech; and beneath the -tall patriarchs of the forest, which had been suffered to grow up -almost beyond maturity, a young undergrowth, reserved for firewood, -and cut every thirteen or fourteen years, formed a screen into which -the eye could not penetrate more than a very few feet. Every here and -there, too, were stunted evergreens thickening the copse, and bearing -upon their sturdy though dwarfish arms many a large mass of snow which -they had caught in its descent toward the ground. Across the road, in -one place, was a solid mass of ice, which a few weeks before had been -running in a gay rivulet; and not twenty yards further was a little -stream of beautiful, limpid water, without a trace of congelation, -except a narrow fringe of ice on either bank. - -Here Jean Charost pulled up his horse, and then, slackening the rein, -let the beast put down his head to drink. Martin Grille did so -likewise; but a moment after both heard a sound of voices speaking at -some little distance on the left. - -"Hark! hark!" whispered Martin Grille. "There are people in the -wood--in the very heart of the wood." - -"Why, where would you find woodmen but in the wood?" asked Jean -Charost. "You will hear their axes presently." - -"I hope we shall not feel them," said Martin Grille, in the same low -tone. "I declare that the only fine wood scenery I ever saw has been -at the back of the fire." - -"They have got a fire there," said Jean Charost, pointing onward, but -a little to the left. "Don't you see the blue smoke curling up through -the trees into the clear, cool air?" - -"I do indeed, sir," said Martin Grille. "Pray, sir, let us turn back. -It's not half so pretty as a smoky chimney." - -"Are you a coward?" asked Jean Charost, turning somewhat sharply upon -him. - -"Yes, sir," replied Martin, meekly: "desperate--I have an uncle who -fights for all the family." - -"Then stay where you are, or go back if you like," replied his master. -"I shall go and see who these folks are. You had better go back, if -you are afraid." - -"Yes, sir--no, sir," replied Martin Grille. "I am afraid--very much -afraid--but I won't go back. I'll stay by you if I have my brains -knocked out--though, good faith, they are not much worth knocking just -now, for they feel quite addled--curd--curd; and a little whey, too, I -have a notion. But go on, sir; go on. They are not worth keeping if -they are not worth losing." - -Jean Charost rode on, with a smile, pitying the man's fears, but -believing them to be perfectly idle and foolish. The district of -Berri, his native place, had hitherto escaped, in a great degree, the -calamities which for years had afflicted the neighborhood of Paris. -There was too little to be got there, for the plundering bands, which -had sprung up from the dragon's teeth sown by the wars of Edward the -Third of England and Philip and John of France, or those which had -arisen from the contentions between the Orleans and Burgundian -parties, to infest the neighborhood of Bourges; and while the -Parisian, with his mind full of tales brought daily into the capital -of atrocities perpetrated in its immediate vicinity, fancied every -bush, not an officer, but a thief, his young master could hardly bring -himself to imagine that there was such a thing as danger in riding -through a little wood within less than half a league of the château of -the Duke of Orleans. - -He went on then, in full confidence, for some fifty or sixty yards -further; but then suddenly stopped, and raised his hand as a sign for -his servant to do so likewise. Martin Grille almost jumped out of the -saddle, on his master's sudden halt, and drew so deep a snorting sort -of sigh that Jean Charost whispered, with an impatient gesture, -"Hush!" - -The fact was, his ears had caught, as they rode on, a sound coming -from the direction where rose the smoke, which did not altogether -satisfy him. It was an exceedingly blasphemous oath--in those days, -common enough in the mouths of military men, and not always a stranger -to the lips of kings, but by no means likely to be uttered by a plain -peasant or honest wood-cutter. - -He listened again: more words of similar import were uttered. It was -evident that the approach of horses over the snow had not been heard, -and that, whoever were the persons in the wood, they were conversing -together very freely, and in no very choice language. - -Curiosity seized upon Jean Charost, who was by no means without his -faults, and, quietly swinging himself from his horse's back, he gave -the rein to Martin Grille, saying, in a whisper, "Here, hold my horse. -I want to see what these people are about. If you see danger--and you -have put the fancy into my head too--you may either bring him up to -me, or ride away as fast as you can to the château of Beauté, and tell -what has happened." - -"I will do both, sir," said Martin Grille, with his head a good deal -confused by fear. "That is to say, I will first bring him up to you, -and then ride away. But I do see danger now. Hadn't you better get up -again?" - -Jean Charost walked on with a smile; but, after going some ten or -fifteen paces, he slackened his speed, and, with a light step, turned -in among the bushes, where there was a little sort of brake between -two enormous old beech-trees. Martin Grille watched him as he -advanced, and kept sight of him for some moments, while quietly and -slowly he took his way forward in the direction of the smoke, which -was still very plainly to be seen from the spot where the valet sat. -It is not to be denied that Martin's heart beat very fast, and very -unpleasantly, as much for his master as for himself perhaps; and -certainly, as the dry twigs and bramble stalks made a thicker and a -thicker sort of mist round Jean Charost's receding figure, the good -man both gave him up for lost, and felt that he had conceived a -greater affection for him than he had before imagined. He had a strong -inclination, notwithstanding his fears, to get a little nearer, and -was debating with himself whether he should do so or not, when all -doubt and hesitation was put to an end by a loud shout, and a fierce -volley of oaths from the wood. Nature would have her way; Martin -Grille turned sharp round, struck his spurs into the horse's sides, -and never stopped till he got to the gates of the château. - -A party of armed men was instantly collected on his report, with good -Monsieur Blaize at their head, without waiting to seek casque or -corselet; and compelling Martin Grille, very unwillingly, to go with -them, they hurried on in the direction he pointed out, over the hill, -and down toward the verge of the wood. They had not reached it, -however, when, to the surprise of all, they beheld Jean Charost -walking quietly toward them, bearing something in his arms, and, on -approaching nearer, they perceived, with greater astonishment than -ever, that his burden was a young child, wrapped in somewhat costly -swaddling-clothes. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - - -Many, eager, and loud were the inquiries of the party who came to the -rescue of Jean Charost, regarding his adventures since Martin had left -him; but their curiosity was left unsatisfied. All he thought fit to -tell them amounted merely to the facts that he had been surrounded and -seized, before he was prepared to resist, by a party which appeared to -consist of common robbers; that for some time his life had seemed in -danger; and that, in the end, his captors, after having emptied his -purse, had consented to let him go, on condition that he would carry -away the child with him, and promise to take care of it for six years. -He had been made to take an oath also, he stated, neither to pursue -the party who had captured him, nor to give any description of their -persons; and, notwithstanding the arguments of the duke's retainers, -and especially of Monsieur Blaize, who sought to persuade him that an -oath taken in duress was of no avail, he resolutely kept his word. - -The old _écuyer_ seemed mortified and displeased; but he did not -hesitate long as to his own course; and, leaving the young secretary -and Martin Grille to find their way back to the château of Beauté as -they could, he dashed on into the wood with his companions, swearing -that he would bring in the marauders, or know the reason why. - -He was disappointed, however. The place where the captors of Jean -Charost had been enjoying themselves was easily found by the embers of -the fire round which they had sat; but they themselves were gone, -leaving nothing but an empty leathern bottle and some broken meat -behind them. The tracks of the horses' feet, too, could be traced for -some distance; but, after they entered the little road through the -wood, they became more indistinct amid other footprints and ruts, and, -although Monsieur Blaize and his companions followed them, as they -thought, to the village beyond, they could obtain no information from -the peasantry. No one would admit that they had seen any one pass but -Matthew So-and-so, the farmer; or the priest of the parish, on his -mule; or the baillie, on his horse; or some laborers with wagons; and, -after a two hours' search, the party of the duke's men returned to the -castle, surly and disappointed, and resolved to spare no means of -drawing all the particulars from Jean Charost. - -In the mean time, the young secretary had returned to the little -hamlet which had gathered round the foot of the château of Beauté, -making Martin Grille, who was somewhat ashamed of the part he had -acted in the morning's adventures, carry the infant in his arms--a -task for which he was better fitted than Jean Charost himself; for, to -say truth, he made no bad nurse, and one of his many good qualities -was a great love for children. At the hamlet, Jean Charost paused, and -went into one or two of the cottages inquiring for Angelina Moulinet; -but he had to go down quite to the foot of the hill before he found -the house of the person of whom he was in search. It was small, but -much neater than most of the rest, and, on opening the door, he found -a little scene of domestic happiness which pleased the eye. A young -husband and wife, apparently tolerably well to do in life, were seated -together with two children, the husband busily engaged in carving out -a pair of _sabots_, or wooden shoes, from an old stump of willow, and -the wife spinning as fast as she could get her fingers to go. The boy -was, of course, teazing a cat; the little girl, still younger, was -crawling about upon her hands and knees, and rolling before her a -great wooden ball, probably of her father's handiwork. The fire burned -bright; every thing about the place was clean and comfortable; and the -whole formed a pleasant scene of calm mediocrity and rural happiness, -better than all the Arcadias that ever were dreamed of. - -The wife rose up when the well-dressed young gentleman entered, and -the husband inclined his head without leaving off his operations upon -the _sabot_. But both looked a little surprised when Martin Grille -followed his master into the cottage, carrying an infant in his arms, -and Angelina Moulinet, with the kindly tact which never abandons a -woman, put down her distaff and went to look at the baby, -comprehending at once that some strange accident had brought it there, -and willing to smooth the way for explanation. - -"What a beautiful little girl!" she exclaimed "Come, Pierrot, look -what a beautiful child!" - -"Is it a little girl?" said Jean Charost, in perfect simplicity; "I am -sure I did not know it." - -"Lord bless me! sir," cried the good woman "don't you see?" - -"All I see," replied Jean Charost, "is, that it is an infant which has -accidentally been cast upon my hands; and I wish to know, Madame -Moulinet, if you will take care of it for me?" - -The young woman looked at her husband, and the husband gazed with some -astonishment at Jean Charost, murmuring at length, though with evident -deference to his better half, "I think we have enough of our own." - -"I do not expect you to take charge of this child," said Jean Charost, -"without proper payment. I will engage that you shall be well rewarded -for your pains." - -"But, sir, we do not know you," said the man; and his wife in the same -breath inquired, "Pray, sir, who sent you to us?" - -Jean Charost hesitated; and then taking the child from Martin Grille, -told him to leave the cottage for a moment. - -The good valet obeyed; but, being blessed with the faculty of other -valets, he took up a position on the outside of the house which he -fancied would enable him to use both his hearing and his sight. -Neither served him much, however; for, though he saw good Angelina -Moulinet take the child from Jean Charost's arms, and the latter bend -down his head toward herself and her husband as they stood together, -as if saying a few words to them in a low tone, not one of those words -reached his ear through the cottage window. He could make nothing of -the gestures, either, of any of the party. Angelina raised her eyes -toward the sky, as if in some surprise; and Pierrot crossed his arms -upon his chest, looking grave and thoughtful. The moment after, both -were seen to speak quickly together, and the result of the -consultation, if it was one, was made manifest by Jean Charost leaving -the child with them and coming out of the cottage door. - -"Now give me my horse," said the young gentleman; and then added, -while Martin unfastened the bridle from the iron ring, "Remember -this house, Martin; you will have to bring some money here for me -to-night." - -"I will not forget it, sir," replied Martin Grille; and then added, -with a laugh, "and I will bring the money safely, which is more than -many a varlet could say of himself;" but before the last words were -uttered, his young master was in the saddle and on his way toward the -château. - -Under a sharp-pointed arch which formed the gateway, two or three of -the duke's men were lounging about; and the moment Jean Charost -appeared, one of them advanced to his horse's side, saying, "His -highness has been inquiring for you, sir." - -"Is it three of the clock yet?" asked Jean Charost, somewhat -anxiously. - -"Not two yet, sir," replied the man; and springing from his horse, the -young secretary hurried on toward the apartments of the duke. He was -admitted instantly, and found his princely master seated in a chair, -dressed in a light-furred dressing-gown, and sadly changed in -appearance, even since the preceding day. His face was very pale, his -eye heavy, and his lips parched; but still he smiled with a -good-humored, though not gay expression of countenance, saying, "I -hope they have not recalled you from any amusement, De Brecy; for I -did not think I should want you till three. But I feel ill, my friend, -and there are very busy thoughts in my mind." - -He paused for a moment or two, looking down thoughtfully on the table, -and then added, slowly, "When the brain is full--perhaps the heart -too--of these eager, active, tireless emmets of the mind, called -thoughts, we are glad to drive some of them forth. Alas! De Brecy, how -rarely does a prince find any one to share them with!" - -He paused again, and Jean Charost did not venture a reply. He would -have fain said, "Share them with me;" but he felt that it would be -presumptuous, and he remained silent till the duke at length went on. -"You are different from the rest of the people about me, De Brecy; -from any one I have ever had--unhackneyed in the world--not ground -down to nothing by the polishing of a court. There is something new -and fresh about you; somewhat like what I once was myself. Now, what -am I? By starts a wise man, by starts a fool." - -"Oh no, my prince," cried Jean Charost, "I can not believe that. 'Tis -but temptation leads you for a moment from the path of wisdom; the -sickness, as it were, of an hour. But the life is healthy; the heart -is sound." - -The prince smiled, but went on, apparently pursuing the course of his -own thoughts. "To know what is right--to do what is wrong--to feel a -strong desire for good, and constantly to fall into evil, surely this -is folly; surely it is a life of folly--surely it is worse than if one -did not know what ought to be, as a blind man can not be charged with -stupidity for running against a wall, which any other would be an -idiot not to avoid." - -He looked up in the young secretary's face, and Jean Charost, -encouraged by his tone, ventured to reply, "It wants but a strong -will, sir. You have a strong will against your enemies, I know; why -not have a strong will against yourself?" - -"I have, De Brecy--I have," replied the duke. "But my strong -will against myself is just like my strong will against my -enemies--very potent for the time, but easily mollified; a peace is -proposed--favorable terms of compromise offered, and lo! I and myself -are friends again, and all our mutual offenses forgiven." - -He spoke with a smile, for the figure amused his fancy; but the next -instant he started up, saying, "It is time that this should come to an -end. My will is now powerful, and my future course shall be different. -I will take my resolutions firmly--I will shape my course--I will lay -it down in writing, as if on a map, and then very shame will prevent -my deviating. Sit down. De Brecy, sit down, and write what I shall -dictate." Jean Charost seated himself, took some paper which was upon -the table, and dipped a pen in the ink, while the duke stood by his -side in such a position that he could see the sheet under his -secretary's hand, on which he gazed for a minute or two with a -thoughtful, half-absent look. The young man expected him every moment -to begin the dictation of the resolutions which he had formed; but at -length the duke said, in an altered tone, "No need of that; it would -show a doubt of myself, of which I trust there is none. No, no; -true resolution needs not fetters. I have resolved enough; I will -begin to act. Give me that fur cloak, De Brecy, and go and see if the -picture-gallery be warmed. Tell one of the varlets at the door to pile -logs enough upon the fire, and to wait there. Then return to me." - -Without reply, Jean Charost quitted the room, and told one of the two -attendants who were seated without to show him the way to the -picture-gallery--an apartment he had never yet heard of. The man led -him on along the corridor, to a door at no great distance, which he -opened; and Jean Charost, the moment after, found himself in a long, -narrow sort of hall, extending across the whole width of the building, -and lighted from both ends. It was divided into three separate -portions, by columns on either side, and the walls between were -covered with pictures nearly to the top. To our eyes these paintings -might seem poor and crude; but to the eyes of Jean Charost they were, -like those which he had seen at the Hôtel d'Orleans, in Paris, perfect -marvels of art. Before he paused to examine any of them, he ordered -more wood to be thrown upon the fire, which was burning faintly in the -great fire-place in the centre; and while the attendant had gone to -bring the wood from a locker, he walked slowly toward the western end -of the gallery, where, upon a little strip of white silk, suspended -between the two columns, appeared in large letters the word "AMORI." -On entering that portion of the gallery, he was not at all surprised, -after reading the inscription, to find that it contained nothing but -portraits of women. All seemed very beautiful; and though the faces -were all strange to him, he had no difficulty in recognizing many of -the persons whom the portraits were intended to represent, for the -names, in most instances, were inscribed in large letters on the -frame. - -A general look around filled him with astonishment, and a sort of -consternation at the daring levity which had gathered together, under -so meaning an inscription, the portraits of some of the most -celebrated ladies in France. But he did not pause long, for the fire -was soon arranged and kindled into a blaze; and he returned, as he had -been directed, to the chamber of the duke. - -"Now," said the prince, as he entered, "is all ready?" - -"It is, sir," answered Jean Charost; "but the air is still chilly, -and, in truth, your highness does not look well. Were it not better to -pause for awhile?" - -"No, no," replied the Duke of Orleans, quickly, but not sharply; "let -us go at once, my friend. I will put such a seal upon my resolutions, -that neither I nor the world shall ever forget them." - -He drew the fur cloak tighter round him, and walked out of the room, -leaning heavily on the young secretary's arm. As he passed, he bade -both the men at the chamber-door follow; and then walking into the -gallery, he turned directly to that portion of it which Jean Charost -had examined. There, seating himself in a chair near the centre of the -room, while the two servants stood at a little distance behind, he -pointed to a picture in the extreme southwestern corner, and bade Jean -Charost bring it to him. It was the picture of a girl quite young, -less beautiful than many of the others, indeed, but with the peculiar -beauty of youth; and when the Duke of Orleans had got it, he let the -edge of the frame rest upon his knee for a moment or two, and gazed -upon the face in silence. - -Jean Charost would have given a great deal to be able to see the -duke's heart at that moment, and to trace there the emotions to which -the contemplation of that picture gave rise. A smile, tender and -melancholy, rested upon the prince's face; but the melancholy deepened -into heavy gloom as he continued to gaze, and the smile rapidly -departed. - -"I might spare this one," he said. "Poor thing! I might spare this -one. The grave has no jealousies--" He gazed again for a single -instant, and then said, "No, no--all--all. Here, take it, and put it -in the fire." - -Turning his head, he had spoken to one of the attendants; but the man -seemed so utterly confounded by the order, that he repeated the words, -"On the fire?" as he received the picture from the prince's hands. - -"Yes--on the fire," said the duke, slowly and sternly; and then -pointing to another, he added, "Give me that." - -Jean Charost brought it to him, when it met with the same fate, but -with less consideration than the other. Another and another succeeded; -but at length a larger one than the rest was pointed out by the duke, -and the young secretary paused for an instant before it, utterly -confounded as he read beneath the name of the Duchess of Burgundy. It -fared no better than the rest, and another still was added to the -flames. But then the duke paused, saying, "I am ill, my friend--I am -ill. I can not go on with this. I leave the task to you. Stay here -with these men, and see that every one of the pictures in this room, -as far as yonder two columns on either side, be burned before -nightfall, with one exception. I look to you to see the execution of -an act which, if I die, will wipe out a sad stain from my memory. You -hear what I say," he continued, turning to the two attendants; and was -then walking toward the centre door of the gallery, when Jean Charost -said, "Your highness mentioned one exception, but you did not point it -out." - -The duke laid his hand upon his arm, led him to the side of the room, -and pointed to a picture nearly in the centre, merely uttering the -word "That!" - -On the frame was inscribed the words, "Valentine, Duchess of Orleans;" -and, after having gazed at it for a moment in silence, the prince -turned and quitted the room. - -When he was gone, Jean Charost remained for a few minutes without -taking any steps to obey his command. The two men stood likewise, with -their arms crossed, in a revery nearly as grave as that of the young -secretary; but their thoughts were very different from his. He -comprehended, in a degree, the motives upon which the prince acted, -and felt how strong and vigorous must be the resolution, and yet how -painful the feelings which had prompted the order he had given. Nay -more, his fancy shadowed forth a thousand accessories--a thousand -associations, which must have hung round, and connected themselves -with that strong act of determination which his royal master had just -performed--sweet memories, better feelings, young hopes, ardent -passions, kindly sympathies, wayward caprices, volatile forgetfulness, -sorrow, regret, and mourning, and remorse. A light, as from -imagination, played round the portraits as he gazed upon them. The -spirits of the dead, of the neglected, of the forgotten, seemed to -animate the features on the wall, and he could not but feel a sort of -painful regret that, however guilty, however vain, however foolish -might be the passion which caused those speaking effigies to be ranged -around, he should have been selected to consign them to that -destroying element which might devour the picture, but could not -obliterate the sin. - -At length he started from his revery, and began the appointed work, -the men obeying habitually the orders they received, although doubts -existed in their minds whether the prince was not suffering from -temporary insanity in commanding the destruction of objects which they -looked upon only as rare treasures, without the slightest conception -of the associations which so often in this world render those things -most estimable in the eyes of others, sad, painful, or perilous to the -possessor. - -In about an hour all was completed; and I am not certain that what I -may call the experience of that hour--the thoughts, the sensations, -the fancies of Jean Charost--had not added more than one year to his -mental life. Certain it is, that with a stronger and a more manly -step, and with even additional earnestness of character, he walked -back to the apartments of the duke, and knocked for admission. A -voice, but not that of the prince, told him to come in, after a -moment's delay, and he found the maître d'hôtel in conference with his -master. - -"Come in, De Brecy," said the duke. "Leave us, Lomelini. You are his -good friend, I know. But I have to speak with him on my own affairs, -not on his. With them I have naught to do, and it were well for others -not to meddle either. So let them understand." - -The maître d'hôtel retired, bowing low; and, after remaining a moment -or two in thought, the duke raised his eyes to the young secretary's -face, saying, in a somewhat languid tone, "Were you ever in this part -of the country before, De Brecy?" - -"Never, your highness," replied Jean Charost. - -"You have met with an adventure in the wood, I hear," said the duke, -"and did not tell me of it." - -"I did not think it right to intrude such subjects on your highness," -answered the young man. "Had there been any thing to lead to it, I -should have told you at once." - -"Well, well," said the duke, "you shall tell me hereafter;" and then -he added, somewhat irritably, "they have broken through my thoughts -with these tales. I want you to do me a service." - -"Your highness has but to command," said Jean Charost. - -"I am ill, De Brecy," said the duke. "I feel more so than I ever did -before; indeed, I have been rarely ill, and, perhaps--But that matters -not. Whatever be the cause, I have a strange feeling upon me, a sort -of presentiment that my life will not be very long extended. You heard -the announcement that was made to me by man or shadow--I know not, and -care not what--in the convent of the Celestins. But it is not that -which has produced this impression, for I had forgotten it within an -hour; but I feel ill; and I see not why there should not be influences -in external and invisible things which, speaking to the ear of the -soul, without a voice, announce the approach of great changes in our -state of being, and warn us to prepare. However that may be, the -feeling is strong upon me. I have ordered an imperial notary to be -sent for, in order that I may make my will. In it I will show the -world how I can treat my enemies--and my friends also; for I may show -my forgetfulness of the injuries of the one, without failing in my -gratitude to the other." - -He leaned his head upon his hand for a moment or two, and then added, -"I long earnestly to see my wife. Yet from causes that matter not to -mention, I do not wish to send her a long letter, telling her of my -state and of my feelings. I have, therefore, written a few lines, -merely saying I am indisposed here at Beauté. I know that they will -induce her to set out immediately from Blois, where she now is, and it -must be the task of the messenger to prepare her mind for the changes -that she _must_, and the changes that she may find here. Do you -understand me?" - -"I think I do, sir," replied Jean Charost, "fully." - -"I should wish him, also," said the duke, "in case my own lips should -not be able to speak the words, to tell her, that whatever may have -been my faults, however passion, or vanity, or folly may have misled -me, I have ever retained a deep and affectionate regard for her -virtues, her tenderness, and her gentleness. I could say more--much -more--I will say more if ever I behold her again. But let her be -assured that my last prayer shall be to call down the blessing of God -upon her head, and entreat his protection for her and for our -children." - -While he spoke, he continued to hold a sealed letter in his hand, and -gazed at Jean Charost very earnestly. Nevertheless, he seemed to -hesitate, and when he paused, he looked down upon the paper, turning -it round and round, without speaking, for several minutes. Then, -however, as if he had decided at length, he looked up suddenly, -saying, "There is none I can send but Lomelini or yourself. Joigni is -a rough brute, though bold and honest. Blaize has no heart, and very -little understanding. Monluc would frighten her to death; for were he -to see me now, he would think me dead already. There is none but you -or Lomelini then. In some respects, it were better to send him. He is -of mature age, of much experience, accurate and skillful in his -dealings and passably honest; not without heart either, affectionately -attached to her, as well he may be, brought up and promoted by her -father; but there is in him a world of Italian cunning, a great deal -of cowardly timidity, and an all-absorbing, sense of his own -interests, the action of which we can never altogether count upon. -Besides, she loves him not. I know it--I am sure of it, although she -is too gentle to complain. He came hither as her servant. He found it -more for his interest to be mine. She can not love him. But enough of -that. I have conceived a regard for you, De Brecy, and you will find -proofs of it. It is not a small one that I send you on this mission. -There is something in the freshness of your character and in the -frankness of your nature which will win confidence, and I wish you to -set off at once for Blois. Bear this letter to the duchess, tell her -in what state I am--but kindly, gently--and accompany her back hither. -What men will you want with you? The country is somewhat disturbed, -but I do not think there is much danger." - -"One who knows the way will suffice, my lord," replied De Brecy. "A -small party may pass more easily than a large one. I will only beg a -stout horse from your highness's stables, which my man can lead, and -which may both carry what we need by the way, and serve me in case of -any accident to my own. I will undertake to deliver the letter, if I -live to the end of the journey." - -"Perhaps you are right in choosing small attendance," said the duke. -"I will send you a stout fellow to accompany you, who knows every rood -of the road. He is but a courier, but he makes no bad man-at-arms in -case of need; and, though I would not have you go fully armed, I think -it were as well if you wore a _secret_ beneath your ordinary dress." - -"I have no arms of any kind with me but my sword and dagger, sir," -replied Jean Charost, "and I do not think I shall need more." - -"Yes--yes, you may," replied the duke. "Stay; I will write a word to -Lomelini. He will procure you all that is needful;" and, drawing some -paper toward him, the duke wrote, with a hand which shook a good deal, -the following words: "Signor Lomelini, put Armand Chauvin under the -orders of Monsieur De Brecy upon a journey which he has to take for -me. Command the armorer to furnish him with what ever arms he may -require, and the chief _écuyer_ to let him take from the stable what -horses he may select, with the exception of gray Clisson, the Arab -jennet, my own hackney, and my three _destriers_. ORLEANS." - -"There," said the duke, "there. Here is an order on the treasurer, -too, for your expenses; and now, when will you set out?" - -"In an hour," replied Jean Charost. - -"Can you get ready so soon?" the prince inquired. - -"I think so, your highness," replied the young secretary. "I shall be -ready myself, if the two men are prepared." - -"So be it, then," said the Duke of Orleans. "I will go lie down on my -bed again, for I am weary in heart and limb." - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - - -No season is without its beauty, no scene without its peculiar -interest. If the great mountain, with its stony peak shooting up into -the sky, has sublimity of one kind, the wide expanse of open country, -moor, or heath, or desert, with its limitless horizon and many-shaded -lines, has it of another. To an eye and a heart alive to the -impressions of the beautiful and the grand, something to charm and to -elevate will be found in almost every aspect of nature. The storm and -the tempest, as well as the sunshine and the calm, will afford some -sources of pleasure; and, as the fading away of the green leaf in the -autumn enchants the eye by the resplendent coloring produced, decay -will be found to decorate, and ruin to embellish. - -Take a winter scene, for instance, with the whole country covered with -a white mantle of the snow, the trees and the forests raising -themselves up brown and dim, the masses of dark pines and firs -standing out almost black upon the light ground from which they rise, -and the view extending far over a nearly level country, with here and -there a rounded hill rising detached and abruptly from the plain, -perhaps unbroken in its monotonous line, perhaps crowned by the sharp -angles and hard lines of fortress or town. The description does not -seem very inviting. But let us show how this scene varied during the -course of the evening, as three travelers rode along at a quick pace, -although their horses seemed somewhat tired, and the distance they had -journeyed had undoubtedly been considerable. Toward three o'clock a -heavy, gray cloud, apparently portending more snow, stretched over the -greater part of the sky, cutting off the arch of the concave, and -seeming like a flat canopy spread overhead. To the southwest the -heavens remained clear, and there the pall of cloud was fringed with -gold, while from underneath streamed the horizontal light, catching -upon and brightening the slopes, and throwing the dells into deeper -shadow. The abrupt hills looked blue and grand, and raised their heads -as if to support the heavy mass of gray above. Gradually, as the sun -descended lower, that line of open sky became of a brighter and a -brighter yellow. The dun canopy parted into masses, checkering the -heavens with black and gold. The same warm hues spread over every -eminence, and, as the sun descended further still, a rosy light, -glowing brighter and brighter every instant, touched the snowy summits -of the hills, flooded the plain, and seeking out in all its -sinuosities the course of the ice-covered river, flashed back from the -glassy surface as if a multitude of rubies had been scattered across -the scene, while the gray wood, which fringed the distant sky, blazed, -with a ruddy brightness pouring through the straggling branches, as if -a vast fire were kindled on the plains beyond. - -It was the last effort of the beauty-giving day, and all those three -travelers felt and enjoyed it in their several ways. The sun went -down; the hills grew dark and blue; every eminence, and even wave of -the ground, appeared to rise higher to the eye; the grayness of -twilight spread over all the scene; but still, upon the verge of the -sky, lingered the yellow light for full half an hour after day was -actually done. Then, through the broken cloud, gleamed out the -lustrous stars, like the brighter and the better hopes that come -sparkling from on high after the sunshine of this life is done, and -when the clouds and vapors of the earth are scattering away. - -Still the three rode on. An hour before, there had been visible on the -distant edge of the sky a tall tower like that of a cathedral, and one -or two spires and steeples scattered round. It told them that a town -was in that direction--the town to which they were bending their -steps; but all was darkness now, and they saw it no more. The road was -fair, however, and well tracked: and though it had been intensely cold -during the greater part of the day, the evening had become somewhat -milder, as if a thaw were coming on. A light mist rose up from the -ground as they entered the wood, not sufficient to obscure the way, -but merely to throw a softening indistinctness over objects at any -distance, and, as they issued forth from among the larger trees, upon -a piece of swampy ground, covered with stunted willows, Jean Charost, -for he was at the head of the party, fancied he saw a light moving -along at some little distance on the left. - -"There is some one with a lantern," he said, turning to a stout man -who was riding beside him. - -"_Feu follet_," replied the other. "We must not follow that, my lord, -or we shall be up to our neck in a quagmire." - -"Why, such exhalations are not common at this time of year, Chauvin," -replied the young man. - -"Exhalations or no exhalations," rejoined the other, "they come at all -times, to mislead poor travelers. All I know is, that the short road -to Pithiviers turns off a quarter of a league further on." - -"Exhalations!" said Martin Grille; "I never heard them called that -name before. Malignant spirits, I have always heard say, who have -lured many a man and horse to their death. Don't follow it, sir; pray, -don't follow it. That would be worse than the baby business." - -Jean Charost laughed, as he replied, "I shall only follow the guidance -of Monsieur Chauvin here. He will lead me better than any lantern. But -it certainly does seem to me that the light moves on by our side. It -can not be more than two or three hundred yards distance either." - -"That's their trick, sir," said Chauvin. "They always move on, and -seem quite near; but if you hunted them, you would never come up with -them, I can tell you. I did so once when I was a boy, and well-nigh -got drowned for my pains. Hark! I thought I heard some one calling. -That's a new trick these devils have got, I suppose, in our bad -times." - -All pulled up their horses and listened; but heard nothing more, and -rode on again, till, just as they were beginning to ascend a little -rise where the snow had been drifted off the road, and the horses' -hoofs rang clear upon the hard ground, a loud shout was heard upon the -left. - -"Halloo, halloo! who goes there?" cried a I voice some fifty or sixty -yards distant. "Give us some help here. We have got into a quagmire, -and know not which way to turn." - -"For Heaven's sake, don't go, sir," cried Martin Grille. "It's a new -trick of the devil, depend upon it, as Monsieur Chauvin says." - -"Pooh, nonsense," replied Jean Charost; and then raising his voice, he -cried, "Who is it that calls?" - -"What signifies that," cried a stern voice. - -"If you are Christians, come and help us. If you are not, jog on your -way, and the devil seize you." - -"Well, call again as we come, to guide us to you," said Jean Charost, -"for there is no need of us getting into the quagmire too." - -"Let me go first, sir, and sound the way," said the courier. - -"Halloo, halloo!" cried two or three voices, as a signal; and, -following the sound, Jean Charost and the courier, with Martin Grille -a good way behind, proceeded slowly and cautiously toward the party of -unfortunate travelers, till at length they could descry something like -a group of men and horses among the willows, about twenty yards -distant. It is true, some of the horses seemed to have no legs, or to -be lying down, and one man dismounted, holding hard by a willow. - -"Keep up, keep up--we are coming to you," replied Jean Charost. "It is -firm enough here, if you could but reach us." - -The guide, who was in advance, suddenly cried, "Halt, there!" and, at -the same moment, his horse's fore feet began to sink in the ground. - -"Here, catch my rein, Chauvin," cried the young secretary, springing -to the ground; "I think I see a way to them." - -"Take care, sir--take care," cried the courier. - -"No fear," answered Jean Charost; "from tree to tree must give one -footing. There are some old roots, too, rising above the level. Stay -there, Chauvin, to guide us back." Proceeding cautiously, trying the -firmness of every step, and sometimes springing from tree to tree, he -came within about six feet of the man whom he had seen dismounted, -and, calling to him to give him his hand, he leaned forward as far as -he could, holding firmly the osier near which he stood with his left -arm. But neither that personage nor his companions were willing to -leave their horses behind them, and it was a matter of much more -difficulty to extricate the beasts than the men; for some of them had -sunk deep in the marsh, and seemed to have neither power nor -inclination to struggle. Nearly an hour was expended in efforts, some -fruitless and others successful, to get the animals out; but at length -they were all rescued, and Jean Charost found his little party -increased by six cavaliers, in a somewhat woeful plight. - -The man whom he had first rescued, and who seemed the principal -personage of the troop, thanked him warmly for his assistance, but in -a short, sharp, self-sufficient tone which was not altogether the most -agreeable. - -"Where are you going, young man?" he said, at length, as they were -remounting their horses. - -"To Pithiviers," answered Jean Charost, as laconically. - -"Then we will go with you," replied the other; "and you shall guide -us; for that is our destination too." - -"That will depend upon whether your horses can keep up with mine," -replied Jean Charost; "for I have spent more time here than I can well -spare." - -"We will see," replied the other, with a laugh; "you have rendered us -one service, we will try if you can render us another, and then thank -you for both at the end of our journey." - -"Very well," replied Jean Charost, and rode on. - -The other kept by his side, however; for the tall and powerful horse -which bore him seemed none the worse for the accident which had -happened. Armand Chauvin and Martin Grille followed close upon their -young leader, and the other five strangers brought up the rear. - -The rest of the journey, of well-nigh two leagues, passed without -accident, and the two foremost horsemen were gradually led into -something like a general conversation, in which Jean Charost's new -companion, though he could not be said to make himself agreeable, -showed a great knowledge of the world, of life, of courts, of foreign -countries; and displayed a somewhat rough but keen and trenchant wit, -which led his young fellow-traveler to the conclusion that he was no -common man. The last two miles of the journey were passed by -moonlight, and Jean Charost had now an opportunity of distinguishing -the personal appearance of his companion, which perhaps was more -prepossessing than his speech. He was a man of the middle age, not -very tall, but exceedingly broad across the chest and shoulders; and -his face, without being handsome, had something fine and commanding in -it. He rode his horse with more power than grace, managing him with an -ease that seemed to leave the creature no will of his own, and every -movement, indeed, displayed extraordinary personal vigor, joined with -some dignity. His dress seemed rich and costly, though the colors were -not easily distinguished. But the short mantle, with the long, furred -sleeves, hanging down almost to his horse's belly, betokened at once, -to a Frenchman of those days, the man of high degree. - -Although the young secretary examined him certainly very closely, he -did not return the scrutiny, but merely gave him a casual glance, as -the moonlight fell upon him, and then continued his conversation till -they entered the town of Pithiviers. - -"To what inn do we go, Chauvin?" asked Jean Charost, as they passed in -among the houses; but, before the other could answer, the stranger -exclaimed, "Never mind--you shall come to my inn. I will entertain -you--for to-night, at least. Indeed," he added, "there is but one inn -in the place worthy of the name, and my people are in possession of -it. We will find room for you and your men, however; and you shall sup -with me--if you be noble, as I suppose." - -"I am, sir," replied Jean Charost, and followed where the other led. - -As they were entering the principal street, which was quiet and still -enough, the stranger pulled up his horse, called up one of his -followers, and spoke to him in a language which Jean Charost did not -understand. Then turning to the young gentleman, he said, "Let us -dismount. Here is a shorter way to the inn, on foot. Your men can go -on with mine." - -Jean Charost hesitated; but, unwilling to show doubt, he sprang from -his horse's back, after a moment's consideration, gave the rein to -Martin Grille, and walked on with his companion up a very narrow -street, which seemed to lead round the back of the buildings before -which they had just been passing. - -The stranger walked slowly, and, as they advanced, he said, "May I -know your name, young gentleman?" - -"Jean Charost de Brecy," replied the duke's secretary; and, though he -had a strong inclination, he refrained from asking the name of his -companion in return. There was a something, he could not well tell -what, that inspired respect about the stranger--a reverence without -love; and the young secretary did not venture to ask any questions. A -few moments after, a small house presented itself, built of stone, it -is true, whereas the others had been mainly composed of wood; but -still it was far too small and mean in appearance to accord with the -idea which Jean Charost had formed of the principal _auberge_ of the -good town of Pithiviers. At the door of this house, however, the elder -gentleman stopped, as if about to enter. The door was opened almost at -the same moment, as if on a preconcerted plan, and a man appeared with -a torch in his hand. - -Jean Charost hesitated, and held back; but the other turned, after -ascending the three steps which led to the door, and looked back, -saying, "Come in--what are you afraid of?" - -The least suspicion of fear has a great influence upon youth at all -times, and Jean Charost was by no means without the failings of youth, -although early misfortune and early experience had rendered him, as I -have before said, older than his years. - -"I am not afraid of any thing," he replied, following the stranger. -"But this does not look like an inn." - -"It is the back way," replied the other; "and you will soon find that -it is the inn." - -Thus saying, he walked through a narrow passage which soon led into a -large court-yard, the man with the torch going before, and displaying -by the light he carried a multitude of objects, which showed the young -secretary that his companion had spoken nothing but the truth, and -that they were, indeed, in the court-yard of one of those large and -very handsome _auberges_--very different from the _cabarets_, the -_gites_, and _repues_, all inns of different classes at that time in -France. - -Two or three times as they went, different men, some in the garb of -the retainers of a noble house dressed in gaudy colors, some in the -common habiliments of the attendants of an inn, came from different -parts of the court toward the man who carried the torch; but as often, -a slight movement of his hand caused them to fall back again from the -path of those whom he was lighting. - -Right in front was a great entrance door, and a large passage from -which a blaze of light streamed forth, showing a great number of -people coming and going within; but to the left was a flight of half a -dozen stone steps leading to a smaller door, now closed. To it the -torch-bearer advanced, opened it, and then drew back reverently to let -those who followed pass in. A single man, with a cap and plume, -appeared within, at a little distance on the left, who opened the door -of a small room, into which the stranger entered, followed by his -young companion. Jean Charost gave a rapid glance at the man who -opened the door, whose dress was now as visible as it would have been -in daylight, and perceived, embroidered in letters of gold upon his -cap, just beneath the feather, the words "_Ich houd_." They puzzled -him; for though he did not remember their meaning, he had some -recollection of having heard that they formed the motto, or rallying -words, of some great man or some great faction. - -The stranger advanced quietly to a chair, seated himself, turned to -the person at the door who had given him admittance, and merely -pronounced the word "Supper." - -"For how--" said the attendant, in an inquiring tone, and it is -probable that he was about to add the word "many," with some title of -reverence or respect, but the other stopped him at once, saying, "For -two--speak with Monsieur D'Ipres, and take his orders. See that they -be obeyed exactly." - -Then turning to Jean Charost, he said, in a good-humored tone, "Sit, -sit, my young friend. And now let me give you thanks. You rendered me -a considerable service--not, perhaps, that it was as great as you -imagine; for I should have got out somehow. These adventures always -come to an end, and I have been in worse quagmires of various kinds -than that; but you rendered me a considerable service, and, what is -more to the purpose, you did it boldly, skillfully, and promptly. You -pleased me, and during supper you shall tell me more about yourself. -Perhaps I may serve you." - -"I think not, sir," replied Jean Charost; "for I desire no change in -my condition at the present moment. As to myself, all that I have to -say--all, indeed, that I intend to say, is, that my name, as I told -you, is Jean Charost, Seigneur De Brecy; that my father fought and -died in the service of his country; and that I am his only child; but -still most happy to have rendered you any service, however -inconsiderable." - -The other listened in profound silence, with his eyes bent upon the -table, and without the slightest variation of expression crossing his -countenance. - -"You talk well, young gentleman," he said, "and are discreet, I see. -Do you happen to guess to whom you are speaking?" - -"Not in the least," replied Jean Charost. "I can easily judge, sir, -indeed, that I am speaking to no ordinary man--to one accustomed to -command and be obeyed; who may be offended, perhaps, at my plain -dealing, and think it want of reverence for his person that I speak -not more frankly. Such, however, is not the case, and assuredly I can -in no degree divine who you are. You may be the King of Sicily, who, I -have been told, is traveling in this direction. The Duke de Berri, I -know you are not; for I have seen him very lately. I am inclined to -think, from the description of his person, however, that you may be -the Count of St. Paul." - -The other smiled, gravely, and then replied, "The first ten steps you -take from this door after supper, you will know; for the greatest -folly any man commits, is to believe that a secret will be kept which -is known to more than one person. But for the next hour we will forget -all such things. Make yourself at ease: frankness never displeases me: -discretion, even against myself, always pleases me. Now let us talk of -other matters. I have gained an appetite, by-the-way, and am wondering -what they will give me for supper. I will bet you a link of this gold -chain against that little ring upon your finger, that we have lark -pies, and wine of Gatinois; for, on my life and soul, I know nothing -else that Pithiviers is famous for--except blankets; odds, my life, I -forgot blankets, and this is not weather to forget them. Prythee, -throw a log on the fire, boy, and let us make ourselves as warm as two -old Flemish women on Martinmas eve. But here comes the supper." - -He was not right, however. It was the same attendant whom Jean Charost -had before seen, that now returned and whispered a word or two in his -lord's ear. - -"Ha!" said the stranger, starting up "Who is with her? Our good -friend?" - -"No," replied the other. "He has gone on, for a couple of days, to -Blois, and she has no one with her but a young lady and the varletry." - -"Beseech her to come in and partake our humble meal," cried the other, -in a gay tone. "Tell her I have a young guest to sup with me, who will -entertain her young companion while I do my _devoir_ toward herself. -But tell her we lay aside state, and that she condescends to sup with -plain John of Valois. Ah, my young friend! you have it now, have you?" -he continued, looking shrewdly at Jean Charost, who had fallen into a -fit of thought. "Well--well, let no knowledge spoil merriment. We will -be gay to-night, whatever comes to-morrow." - -Almost as he spoke, the door was again thrown open, and fair Madame De -Giac entered, followed by the young girl whom Jean Charost had seen at -Juvisy. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - - -Two servants, one an elderly, grave, and silent personage, with the -air of knowing much and saying little, which is the proper -characteristic of experienced serving-men; the other a sharp, acute -young varleton, with eyes full of meaning and fun, which seemed to -read a running commentary upon all he heard and saw, waited upon the -guests at supper. With simple good sense Jean Charost took things as -he found them, without inquiring into matters which did not -immediately affect himself. Whatever rank and station he might -mentally assign to his entertainer, he merely treated him according to -the station he had assigned himself, with perfect politeness and -respect, but with none of the subservient civility of a courtier. - -Madame De Giac, upon her part, taking the hint which had been sent to -her, at once cast off all restraint more completely than Jean Charost -thought quite becoming, especially in the presence of her young -companion. But she noticed him personally with a gay smile and a nod -of the head, and he saw that she spoke in a whisper afterward with her -entertainer. The young girl greeted him kindly, likewise, and the meal -passed in gay and lively talk, not unseasoned with a fully sufficient -quantity of wine. Now the wine of Gatinois has effects very like -itself, of a light, sparkling, exhilarating kind, producing not easily -any thing like drunkenness, but elevating gently and brightly, even in -small portions. The effect is soon over, it is true; but the -consequences are not so unpleasant as those of beverages of a more -heady quality, and the high spirits generated are like the sparkling -bubble on the cup, soon gone, leaving nothing but a tranquil calm -behind them. - -"How is our friend, Louis of Valois?" asked Madame De Giac, with a gay -laugh, when the meal was nearly ended. "He was in unusual high spirits -when we met you and him, Monsieur De Charost, at the Abbey of Juvisy." - -"His spirits, madame, were like the cream upon your glass," replied -Jean Charost; "too sparkling to last long. He has been very ill -since." - -"Ha!" said their entertainer, with a sudden start. "Ill! Has he been -ill? Is he better?" - -"I trust he is, sir," answered Jean Charost, somewhat dryly. "Better -in some respects he certainly is." - -There was a something--perhaps we might call it an instinct--which led -the young gentleman to believe that tidings of the duke's illness -would not be altogether disagreeable to the personage who sat opposite -to him, and to say truth, he was unwilling to gratify him by any -detailed account. The other seemed, however, not to interest himself -very deeply in the matter; that topic was soon dropped; and Madame De -Giac and the stranger continued talking together in an under tone, -sometimes laughing gayly, sometimes conversing earnestly, but seeming -almost to forget, in the freedom of their demeanor toward each other, -the presence of the two younger people, who, made up the party of -four. - -Between Jean Charost and his fair companion the conversation, strange -to say, was much graver than between their elders. It too, however, -was carried on in a low tone, and, in fact, the party was thus -completely divided into two for some time. - -"I wish I were out of this companionship," said the fair Agnes, at -length; "Madame De Giac is far too wise a woman for me. Experience of -the world, I suppose, must come, but I would fain have it come piece -by piece, and not wholesale." - -"Do you think it so evil a thing, then?" asked Jean Charost. - -"I do not know," answered the girl; "and we are often afraid of what -we do not know. Did you ever plunge into a stream or a lake, and stand -hesitating for a minute on the bank, wishing you could tell how cold -the water would be? Well, it is so with me, standing on the brink of -the world into which I am destined to plunge. I am quite sure the -waters thereof will not be as warm as my own heart; but I would know -how cold they are--enough merely to refresh, or enough to chill me." - -We need not pursue the conversation on these themes further. The meal -concluded, and the table was cleared. The entertainer said something -in a low tone to his fair companion, and she answered with a -coquettish air, - -"Not yet--not yet. Find something to amuse us for another hour. Have -you no fool--no jongleur--no minstrel--nothing to wile away the time?" - -"Faith, I came badly provided," replied the other, "not knowing what -happy fortune was prepared for me on the road. But I will see--I will -see what can be done. The people will bring in comfits, surely, and I -will ask what the town can afford." - -A few minutes after, the servants returned, as he expected, with some -dried fruits, and wine of a higher quality, and the stranger asked a -question or two in a whisper, to which the other replied in the same -tone. - -"An astrologer!" rejoined the first; "an astrologer! That will do -admirably. We will all have our fortunes told. Go for him quietly, and -mind, betray no secrets. I hope every one here, as in duty bound, has -the hour, and day, and minute of his birth by heart. Your godfathers -and godmothers have failed sadly if they have neglected this essential -point of information. For my own part, I have had my horoscope so -often drawn, that if all the misfortunes befall me which have been -prognosticated, I shall need to live to the age of Methuselah to get -them all into one life, to say nothing of being killed five different -times in five different manners." - -Every one smiled, but none felt convinced that the speaker doubted the -truth of the predictions at which he scoffed; for it was a habit in -those times, as well as in most others, for men to pretend want of -belief in that which they believe most firmly, and a trust in judicial -astrology was almost as essential a point of faith as a reliance in -any of the blessed Virgins which were then scattered through the -various towns of Europe. No one denied that he was furnished with all -the dates for having his destiny accurately read by the stars, and -only one person present showed any reluctance to hear the words of -destiny from the lips of the astrologer. Strange to say, that one was -the gay, bold, dashing Madame De Giac, who seemed actually fearful of -learning the secrets of the future. In all hollow hearts there are -dark recesses, the treasured things of which are watched over with -miserly fear, lest any eye should see them and drag them to the light. - -She objected, in a sportive tone, indeed, but with a wandering and -timid look, sometimes pettishly declaring that she positively would -not consent to have all the misfortunes of life displayed before her -ere their time, and sometimes laughingly asserting that her noble lord -hated astrologers, and that, therefore, she was bound to have nothing -to do with them. - -The conduct of their entertainer, however, puzzled and surprised Jean -Charost more than her reluctance. They were evidently friends of old -date--perhaps something more; and during the whole evening he had been -paying her every soft and tender attention with a gallantry somewhat -too open and barefaced. Now, however, he first laughed and jested with -her, insisting, in gay and lively tones, but with his eyes fixed upon -her keenly, and almost sternly, and then ceased all tone of entreaty, -and used very unlover-like words of command. A reddish spot came into -his cheek too, and a dark frown upon his brow; and his last words -were, as some steps sounded along the passage, "You must, and you -shall," uttered in a low, hoarse voice, which seemed to come from the -very depth of his chest. - -The next instant, the attendant entered with a man dressed in a very -peculiar manner. He was small, mean-looking, aged, and miserably thin, -with a beard as white as snow, but eyebrows as black as ink. All the -features were pinched and attenuated, and the shriveled skin pale and -cadaverous; but the face was lighted up by a pair of quick, sharp, -intensely black eyes, that ran like lightning over every object, and -seemed to gain intelligence from all they saw. He wore a black gown, -open in front, but tied round the middle by a silver cord. His feet -were bare and sandaled, and on his head he had a wide black cap, from -the right side of which fell a sort of scarf crossing the right -shoulder, and passing under the girdle on the left hip. A small dagger -in a silver sheath, a triangle, and a circle of the same metal, and an -instrument consisting of a tube with a glass at either end--the germ -of the future telescope--hung in loops from his belt, and with a large -wallet, or _escarcelle_, completed his equipment. - -On entering the room, the astrologer saluted no one, and moved not his -bonnet from his head, but advanced calmly into the midst of the little -circle with an air which gave dignity even to his small and -insignificant figure, and, looking round from face to face, said, in a -sweet but very piercing voice, "Here I am. What do you want with me?" - -There was very little reverence in his tone, and Jean Charost's -companion of the way replied, with an air of some haughtiness, "Sir -wise man, you do not know us, or you would wait to hear our pleasure. -You shall learn what we want with you very speedily, however." - -"Pardon, your highness," replied the astrologer; "I know you all. But -your men might show more reverence to science, and not drag me, like a -culprit, from my studies, even at the command of John, duke of -Burgundy." - -"Ah! the fools have been prating," said the duke, with a laugh; but -the astrologer answered quickly, "The stars have been prating, your -highness, though your men have held their peace. Before you set foot -in this town, I knew and told many persons that you would be here this -day; that you would meet with an accident by the way, and be saved -from it by the servant of an enemy. Ask, and satisfy yourself. There -are people in this very house who heard me." - -"The servant of an enemy!" repeated the Duke of Burgundy, -thoughtfully, and rolling his eyes with a sort of suspicious glance -toward Jean Charost. "The servant of an enemy! But never mind that; we -have eaten salt together." - -"I said not an enemy, but the servant of an enemy," rejoined the -astrologer. "You and he best know whether I am right or not." - -"I think not," replied Jean Charost. "The Duke of Orleans has given -his hand to his highness of Burgundy, and he is not a man to play -false with any one." - -"Well spoken, good youth," answered the duke. "I believe you from my -heart;" but still there was a frown upon his brow, and, as if to -conceal what he felt, he turned again to the astrologer, bidding him -commence his prediction. - -"My lord the duke," replied the astrologer, "the hour and moment of -your nativity are well known to me; but it is very useless repeating -to you what others have told you before. Some little variation I might -make by more or less accurate observation of the stars; but the -variation could but be small, and why should I repeat to you -unpleasant truths. You will triumph over most of your enemies and over -many of your friends. You will be the arbiter of the fortunes of -France, and affect the fate of England. You will make a great name, -rather than a good one; and you will die a bloody death." - -"That matters not," replied the duke. "Every brave man would rather -fall on the field of battle than die lingering in a sick-chamber, like -a hound in his kennel." - -"I said not on the field of battle," answered the astrologer. "That I -will not undertake to say, and from the signs I do not think it." - -"Well, well, it skills not," answered the duke, impatiently. "It is -enough that I shall survive my enemies." - -"Not all of them," said the astrologer; "not all of them." - -The duke waved his hand for him to stop; and, pointing to Madame De -Giac, exclaimed, with a somewhat rude and discourteous laugh, "Here, -tell this lady her destiny. She is frightened out of her wits at the -thought of hearing it; but, by the Lord, I wish to hear it myself, for -she has a strange art of linking the fate of other people to her own." - -"She has, indeed," replied the astrologer. - -"Methinks when she was born," said the duke, laughing, "Venus must -have been in the house of Mars." - -"Your highness does not understand the science," said the astrologer, -dryly. "Madame, might I ask the date of your nativity?" - -In a faltering tone, Madame De Giac gave him the particulars he -required, and he then took some written tables from his wallet, and -examined them attentively. - -"It is a fortunate destiny," he said, "to be loved by many--to retain -their love--to succeed in most undertakings. Madame, be satisfied, and -ask no more." - -"Oh, I ask nothing," replied Madame De Giac. "'Twas but to please the -duke." - -"But I must ask something," said the duke; and, drawing the astrologer -somewhat aside, he whispered a question in his ear, while Madame De -Giac's bright eyes fixed upon them eagerly. - -To whatever was the duke's question, the astrologer replied, aloud, -"As much as she possibly can," and the fair lady sank back in her -chair with a look of relief, though the answer might possibly bear -several meanings. - -The duke's face was more cheerful, however, when he turned round; and, -pointing to Madame De Giac's young companion, he said, "Come, let us -have some happy prediction in her favor." - -The astrologer gazed at her with a look of some interest, and so -earnestly that the color rose in her cheek, and a certain fluttering -grace of expression passed over her countenance, which made it look, -for the first time, to the eyes of Jean Charost quite beautiful, -foreshadowing what she was afterward to become. She made no -hesitation, however, in telling the day, hour, and minute of her -birth, and the astrologer consulted his tables again; but still paused -in silence for a moment or two, though the Duke of Burgundy exclaimed -more than once, "Speak--speak!" - -"My science is either wrong," the astrologer said, at length, "or -thine is, indeed, an extraordinary destiny. Till nineteen years have -passed over thy head, all is quiet and peaceful. Then come some -influences, not malign, but threatening. Some evil will befall thee -which would be ruinous to others; but thy star triumphs still, and -rises out of the clouds of the seventh house in conjunction with Mars, -also in the ascendant. From that hour, too, the destiny of France is -united with thine own. Mighty monarchs and great warriors shall bow -before thee. Queens shall seek thy counsel, and even those thou hast -wronged shall cling to thee for aid and for support." - -"Oh, no--no," exclaimed Agnes, stretching forth her beautiful hands, -with a look and attitude of exquisite grace. "I will wrong no one. -Tell me not that I will wrong any one; it is not in my nature--can it -be my destiny?" - -"One wrong," replied the astrologer, "repaired by many a noble act. -But I see more still. France shall have cause to bless thee. A -comet--a fiery comet--shoots forth across the sky, portending evil; -but thy star rules it, and the evil falls upon the enemies of France. -The comet disappears in fire, and thy star still shines out in the -ascendant, bright, and calm, and triumphant to the end. But the end -comes too soon--alas! too soon." - -"So be it," said the young girl, in a tranquil tone. "Life, I think, -must be feeling. I would not outlive one joy, one power, one hope. So -be it, I say. Death is not what I fear, but wrong. Oh, I will never -commit a wrong." - -"Then, pretty maid, you will be more than mortal," said the Duke of -Burgundy; "for we all of us do wrong sometimes, and often are obliged -to do so that great good may spring out of small evil." - -Agnes was silent, and the astrologer turned to Jean Charost, who -readily told him all he desired to know; for such was the general -faith in judicial astrology at that time in France, that no man was -left ignorant by his parents of the precise hour and minute of his -birth, in order that the stars might be at any time consulted, in case -of need. - -The astrologer smiled kindly on him, but John of Burgundy asked, -impatiently, "What say you, man of the stars, is this youth's fate any -way connected with mine?" - -"It is, prince," replied the astrologer. "It has been once; it shall -be again. I find it written that he shall save you from some danger; -that he shall suffer for your acts; that he shall be faithful to all -who trust him; that he shall be present at your death; and try, but -try in vain, to save you." - -"Good!" said the duke, in a musing tone. "Good!" And then he added, in -a lower voice, as if speaking to himself, "I will let him go, then." - -The words reached Jean Charost's ears, and, for the first time, he -comprehended that he had run some risk that night. Although somewhat -inexperienced in the world, he was well aware that the caprices of -princes, and of the favored of the earth, are not easy to be -calculated; and he would have given a great deal to be out of that -room, notwithstanding the pleasant evening he had spent therein. To -show any thing like alarm or haste, however, he knew well might -frustrate his own purpose; and, affecting as much ease as possible, he -conversed with his young companion and the astrologer, while the Duke -of Burgundy spoke a word or two in the usual low tone to Madame De -Giac. What the treacherous woman suggested might be difficult to tell -exactly, but only a few moments had elapsed when the elder attendant, -who had before appeared, re-entered the room, saying, "This young -gentleman's lackey is importunate to see him, and will take no -denial." - -Jean Charost instantly rose, saying, "It is time, then, that I should -humbly take my leave, your highness. I knew not that it was so late." - -"Nay, stay a while," said the Duke of Burgundy, with a very doubtful -smile. "This bright lady tells me that you are an intimate of my fair -cousin the Duke of Orleans, and that it is probable you go upon some -occasion of his. Good faith! you must tell me before you depart -whither you go, and for what purpose." - -"Your highness will, I am sure, demand neither," replied Jean Charost. -"Hospitality is a princely quality, but has its laws; and gratitude -for small services well becomes the Duke of Burgundy far too much for -him either to detain or to interrogate a humble servant of his cousin -the Duke of Orleans. As for the lady's information, she makes a slight -mistake. I am his highness's servant, not his intimate; and certainly -her intimacy with him, if I may judge from all appearances, is greater -than my own." - -The Duke of Burgundy turned a quick and irritable glance upon Madame -De Giac; but Jean Charost had made a great mistake. We never render -ourselves any service by rendering a disservice to one whom another -loves. It was a young man's error; but he well divined that the fair -marchioness had prompted the duke to detain him, and thinking to alarm -her by a hint of what he had seen at Juvisy, he had gone beyond the -proper limit, and made a dangerous enemy. - -After he had spoken, the young secretary took a step toward the door; -but the Duke of Burgundy's voice was instantly heard saying, in a -cold, stern, despotic tone, "Not so fast, young man. Stay where you -are, if you please." Then putting his hand upon his brow, he remained -musing for a moment, and said, still thoughtfully, "We must know your -errand." - -"From me, never, sir," replied Jean Charost. - -"Boy, you are bold," thundered forth the duke, with his eyes flashing. - -"I am so, your highness," replied Jean Charost, in a voice perfectly -firm, but with a respectful manner, "because I stand in the presence -of a prince bearing a high name. I know he has concluded treaties of -friendship and alliance with my royal master of Orleans, and I am -confident that he will never even think of forcing from his kinsman's -servant one word regarding his due and honorable service. You have -heard what this good man has said, that I am faithful to those I -serve. Were I your servant, I would sacrifice my life sooner than -reveal to any other your secrets committed to my charge; and though, -in truth, my business now is very simple, yet, as I have no permission -to reveal it, I will reveal it to no one; nor do I believe you will -ask me. Such, I know, would be the conduct of the Duke of Orleans -toward you; such, I am sure, will be your conduct toward him." - -"Fool! You are no judge of the conduct of princes," replied the duke; -and then, for a moment or two, he remained silent, gnawing his lip, -with his brow knit, and his eyes cast down. - -A low, sweet voice, close by Jean Charost, whispered timidly, "Do not -enrage him. When too much crossed, he is furious." - -"Well," said the duke, at length, "I will not force you, young man. -Doubtless you are making a mystery where there is none; and by -refusing to answer a very simple question, which any prince might ask -of another's messenger--especially," he added, with a grim smile, -"where there is such love as between my cousin of Orleans and -myself--you have almost caused me to believe that there is some secret -machination against me. Go your ways, however; and thank your good -stars that sent you to help me out of the quagmire, or your ears might -have been somewhat shorter before you left this room." - -The young man's cheek glowed warmly, and his lips quivered; but the -same sweet voice whispered, "Answer not. But leave not the town -to-night. Conceal yourself somewhere till daylight. You will be -followed if you go." - -Jean Charost took no apparent notice; but bowing low to the Duke of -Burgundy, who turned away his eyes with haughty coldness, and -inclining his head to Madame De Giac, who looked full at him with her -sweet, serpent smile, he quitted the room with a calm, firm step, and -the attendant closed the door behind him. - -As soon as he was gone, the duke exclaimed, with a low, bitter laugh, -"On my life! he lords it as if he were of the blood royal." - -"Honesty is better than royal blood," said the astrologer. - -"How now, charlatan!" cried the duke, turning fiercely upon him; but -then, his thoughts flowing suddenly in a different direction, he gazed -upon the young lady from beneath his bent brows, saying, "What was it -you whispered to him, fair maid?" - -"Simply to be cautious, and not to enrage your highness needlessly," -replied Agnes, with the color slightly mounting in her cheek. - -"By my faith, he needed such a caution," rejoined the prince; and -then, turning to the astrologer, he asked, "What was it you said about -his being present at my death?" - -"I said, sir, that in years to come," the astrologer replied--"long -years, I trust--that youth would be present at your death, and try to -avert it." - -Burgundy mused for a moment, and then muttered, with a low laugh, -"Well, it may be so. But tell us, good man, what foundation have we -for faith in your predictions? Are you a man of note among your -tribe?" - -"Of no great note, sir," answered the astrologer; "yet not altogether -unknown, either. I was once astrologer to the city of Tours; but they -offended me there, and I left them. I am, however, one of the -astrologers of the court of France--have my appointment in due form, -and have my salary of a hundred and twenty livres. This shows that I -am no tyro in my art. But we trust not to any fame gained at the -present. Our predictions extend over long years, and our renown is the -sport of a thousand accidents. Men forget them ere they are verified, -or connect not the accomplishment with the announcement. Often, very -often too, we are passed from the earth, and our names hardly -remembered, when the events we have prognosticated are fulfilled. I -have told you the truth, however, and you will find it so. When you -do, remember me." - -"Well, well," said the duke, in his abrupt, impatient manner; and then -turning to the attendant, he said, "Take him away. Bid Monsieur De -Villon give him four crowns of gold. Tell Peter, and Godet, and -Jaillou to get their horses ready. I have business for them. Then -return to me. I shall rest early to-night, and would have the house -kept quiet." - -While the attendant conducted the astrologer from the room, the duke -spoke, for a moment or two, in a low and familiar tone with Madame De -Giac, and then, resuming his stateliness, bowed courteously to her, -but somewhat coldly to her young companion, and, opening the door for -them with his own hands, suffered them to pass out. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - - -Human weaknesses and human follies, human vices and human crimes, are -undoubtedly very excellent and beneficial things. It may seem -paradoxical to say that the fact of one man cutting another man's -throat, or of another ruining a friend's peace, robbing him of his -fortune, or depriving him of his honor, can have any beneficial result -whatsoever; or that the cunning, the selfishness, the credulity, the -ignorance, the fanaticism, the prejudice, the vanity, the absurdity or -the passion of the many millions who at various times have exhibited -themselves with such appendages about them, should have conferred -boons upon the whole or any part of society. And yet, dearly beloved -reader, I am not at all sure that--considering man's nature as man's -nature is and looking at society as I see it constituted around me--I -am not at all sure, I say, that the very greatest crimes that ever -were committed have not produced a greater sum of enjoyment and of -what people vulgarly term happiness, than they have inflicted pain or -discomfort--that is to say, as far as this world is concerned: I don't -deal with another. - -Not very fond am I of painting disagreeable pictures of human nature; -but yet one can not shut one's eyes; and if it has been our misfortune -to be in any spot or neighborhood where something very wicked has been -perpetrated, the sums of pleasure and of pain produced are forced into -the two scales, where we may weigh them both together, if we choose -but to raise the balance. Take the worst case that ever was known: a -murder which has deprived a happy family--four young children and an -amiable wife--of a father and a husband--poor things, they must have -suffered sadly, and the father not a little, while his brains were -being knocked out. 'Tis a great amount of evil, doubtless. But now let -us look at the other side of the account. While they are weeping, one -near neighbor is telling the whole to another near neighbor, and both -are in that high state of ecstasy which is called a terrible -excitement. They are horrified, very true; but, say what they will, -they are enjoying it exceedingly. It has stirred up for them the dull -pond of life, and broken up the duckweed on the top. Nor is the -enjoyment confined to them. Every man, woman, and child in the village -has his share of it. Not only that, but wider and wider, through -enlarging circles round, newspapers thrive on it, tea-tables delight -in it, and multitudes rejoice in the "Barbarous Murder!" that has -lately been committed. I say nothing of the lawyers, the constables, -the magistrates, the coroner. I say nothing of the augmented -gratuities to the one, or the increased importance of the other; of -the thousands who grin and gape with delight at the execution; but I -speak merely of the pleasure afforded to multitudes by the act itself, -and the report thereof. Nor is this merely a circle spreading round on -one plane, such as is produced by a stone dropped into the water, but -it is an augmenting globe, the increment of which is infinite. The act -of the criminal is chronicled for all time, affords enjoyment to -remote posterity, and benefits a multitude of the unborn generation. -The newspaper has it first; the romance writer takes it next; it is a -subject for the poet--a field for the philosopher; and adds a leaf to -the garland of the tragic dramatist. - -What would the world have done if Macbeth had not murdered Duncan, or -[OE]dipus had not done a great many things too disagreeable to -mention? - -This is a wicked world, undoubtedly; but, nevertheless, the most -virtuous enjoy its wickedness very much, in some shape or another. - -The above is my short excuse for deviating from my usual course, as I -am about to do, and betraying, as I must, some of the little secret -tricks of a science of great gravity practiced in former days by -bearded men, but now fallen into the hands of old women and Egyptians. - -Jean Charost, in issuing forth from the Duke of Burgundy's presence, -found Martin Grille in a deplorable state of anxiety concerning him, -and, to say the truth, not without cause. It was in vain, however, -that the poor man endeavored to draw his young master into some secret -corner to confer with him apart. The whole house was occupied by the -attendants of the Duke of Burgundy or of Madame De Giac; and, although -the young secretary felt some need of thought and counsel, he soon saw -that the only plan open to him was to mount his horse as speedily as -possible and quit the inn. Armand Chauvin, the courier or -_chevaucheur_ of the Duke of Orleans, was sitting in the wide hall of -the inn, with a pot of wine before him, apparently taking note of -nothing, but, in reality, listening to and remarking every thing that -passed; and toward him Jean Charost advanced, after having spoken a -single word to Martin Grille. - -"The horses must be rested by this time, Armand," said the young -gentleman, aloud. "You had better get them ready, and let us go on." - -"Certainly, sir," replied the man, rising at once; and then, quickly -passing by the young gentleman, he added, in a whisper, "They are -saddled and bridled; follow quick. The horseboys are paid." - -Jean Charost paused for a moment, spoke a word or two, in a quiet -tone, to Martin Grille, with the eyes of a dozen men, in all sorts of -dresses, upon them, and then sauntered out to the door of the inn. The -stable was soon reached, the horses soon mounted, and, in less than -five minutes after he had quitted the presence of the Duke of -Burgundy, Jean Charost was once more upon the road to Blois. - -Twice the young gentleman looked back up the street in the clear -moonlight. Nobody was seen following; but he could hear some loud -calls, as if from the stables of the inn, and turning to the courier, -he said, "I fear our horses are not in fit case to ride a race -to-night." - -"I think not, sir," replied the man, briefly. "We had better get out -of the town, and then turn into a wood." - -"I know a better plan than that," replied Martin Grille. "Let us turn -down here by the back of the town, and take refuge in the house of the -astrologer. He will give us refuge for the night, and the duke departs -by sunrise to-morrow." - -"Do you know him?" demanded Jean Charost. "I thought you had never -been in Pithiviers before." - -"Nor have I," replied the man. "But I'll tell you all about it -by-and-by. He will give us lodging, I will answer for it--hide us in -his cabinet of the spheres, among his other curiosities, and those who -seek will seek for us in vain. But there is no time to be lost. Mine -is the best plan, depend upon it." - -"Perhaps it is," replied Jean Charost, turning his horse's head. "We -might be overtaken ere we could reach any other place of concealment. -My horse moves as if his joints were frozen. Come on, Monsieur -Chauvin. Do you know the house, Martin?" - -"Well, sir--right well," replied the valet. "Hark! I hear horses -stamping;" and riding on, down a side street, he turned back to the -east, passing along between the old decayed wall and the houses of the -suburb. - -Little was said as they rode, for every ear was on the alert to catch -any sounds from the main street, lest, mayhap, their course should be -traced, and they should be followed. - -It is hardly possible for any one in the present day--at least for any -dweller in the more civilized parts of earth, where order is the rule -and disorder the exception--to form any correct idea of those times in -France, when order was the exception, and disorder the rule; when no -man set out upon a journey without being prepared for attack and -defense; when the streets of a great city were in themselves perilous -places; when one's own house might, indeed, be a castle, but required -to be as carefully watched and guarded as a fortress, and when the -life of every day was full of open and apparent danger--when, in -short, there was no such thing as peace on earth, or good-will among -men. Yet it is wonderful how calmly people bore it, how much they -looked upon it as a matter of course, how much less anxiety or -annoyance it occasioned them. Just as an undertaker becomes familiar -with images of death, and strangely intimate with the corpses which he -lays out and buries, jokes with his assistant in the awful presence of -the dead, and takes his pot of beer, or glass of spirits, seated on -the coffin, with the link of association entirely cut by habit, and no -reference of the mind between his fate and the fate of him whom he -inters; so men, by the effect of custom, went through hourly peril in -those times, saw every sort of misery, sorrow, and injustice inflicted -on others, and very often endured them themselves, merely as a matter -of course, a part of the business of the day. - -I do not, and I will not pretend, therefore, that Jean Charost felt -half the annoyance or apprehension that any one of modern days would -experience, could he be carried back some four or five centuries; but -he did feel considerable anxiety, not so much lest his own throat -should be cut, though that was quite within the probabilities of the -case, as lest he should be seized, and the letters of the Duke of -Orleans which he bore taken from him. That anxiety was considerably -aggravated, as he rode along, by hearing a good deal of noise from the -streets on the right, orders and directions delivered in loud tones, -the jingle of arms, and the dull beat of horses' hoofs upon ground -covered by hardened snow. For a moment or two it was doubtful whether -the pursuers--if pursuers they were--would or would not discover that -he had quitted the highway and follow on his track; but at length -Armand Chauvin, who had hardly spoken a word, said, in a tone of some -relief, "They have passed by the turning. They will have a long ride -for their pains. Heaven bless them with a snow-shower, and freeze them -to the saddle!" - -"There's the house, sir," said Martin Grille, pointing to a building -of considerable size, the back of which stood out toward the -dilapidated wall somewhat beyond the rest, with a stone tower in the -extreme rear, and a light burning in one of the windows. - -"I should like to hear how you know, all about this place, Master -Martin," replied his young master, "and whether you can assure me -really a good reception." - -"That I'll answer for--that I'll answer for," cried Martin Grille, -gayly. "Oh, you men of battle and equitation can't do every thing. We -people of peace and policy sometimes have our share in the affairs of -life. This way, sir--this way. The back door into the court is the -best. On my life! if I were to turn astrologer any where, it should be -at Pithiviers. They nourish him gayly, don't they? Every man from -sixty downward, and every woman from sixteen upward, must have their -horoscope drawn three times a day, to keep our friend of the astrolabe -in such style as this?" - -As he spoke, he rode up to a pair of great wooden gates in the wall, -and dismounting from his horse, pushed them open. Bending their heads -a little, for the arch was not very high, Jean Charost and the -_chevaucheur_ rode into a very handsome court-yard, surrounded on -three sides by buildings, and having at one corner the tower which -they had before observed. Martin Grille followed, carefully closed the -gates, and fastened them with a wooden bar which lay near, to prevent -any one obtaining as easy access as himself. Then advancing to a small -back door, he knocked gently with his hand, and almost immediately a -pretty servant girl appeared with a light. - -"Ah, my pretty demoiselle! here I am again, and have brought this -noble young gentleman to consult the learned doctor," said Martin -Grille, as soon as he saw her. "Is he at home now?" - -"No, kind sir," answered the girl, giving a coquettish glance at Jean -Charost and his companion. "Two rude men came and dragged him away -from his supper almost by force; but I dare say he will not be long -gone." - -"Then we will come in and wait," said Mar tin Grille. "Where can we -put our horses this cold night?" - -The girl seemed to hesitate, although her own words had certainly led -the way to Martin's proposal. "I don't know where to put you or your -horses either," she said, at length; "for there is a gentleman -waiting, and it is not every one who comes to consult the doctor that -wishes to be seen. Pedro the Moor, too, is out getting information -about the town; so that I have no one to ask what to do." - -"Well, we don't want to be seen either," replied Martin Grille; "so we -will just put our horses under that shed, and go into the little room -where the doctor casts his nativities." - -"But he's in there--he's in there," said the girl; "the tall, meagre -man with the wild look. I put him in there because there's nothing he -could hurt. No, no; you fasten up your horses, and then come into the -great hall. I think the man is as mad as a March hare. You can hear -him quite plain in the hall; never still for a moment." - -The girl's plan was, of course, followed; and, passing through a low -and narrow door, arched with stone, according to the fashion of those -days, Jean Charost and his two companions were ushered into a large -room, from the end of which two other doors led to different parts of -the building. - -The maid left the lamp which she carried to give the strangers some -light, but the greater part of the room remained in obscurity; nor, -probably, would it have exhibited any thing very interesting to the -eyes of Jean Charost; for all the walls seemed to be covered with -illuminated pieces of vellum, each figuring the horoscope of some -distinguished man long dead. Those of Charlemagne, Pope Benedict the -Eighth, Julius Cæsar, Alexander the Great, Homer, and Duns Scotus, -were all within the rays of the lamp, and the young secretary looked -no further, but, turning to Martin Grille, asked once more, but in a -low tone, how he happened to have made himself acquainted so -thoroughly with the astrologer's house and habits. - -"Why bless you, sir," replied the lackey, "when I saw you carried off -by a man I knew nothing about, and found myself in an inn where not -even the landlord would tell who his guests were, I got frightened, -and as it is a part of my business to know every thing that may be of -service to you, I bethought me how I might best get information. As -every town in France has its astrologer, either official or -accidental, I determined I would find him out, and I seduced one of -the _marmitons_ to show me the way hither for a bribe of two sous. -Very little had I in my pocket to consult an astrologer with; but we -Parisians have a way of bartering one piece of news for another; and -as information regarding every body and every thing is what an -astrologer is always in search of, I trucked the tidings of your -arrival at the _auberge_ for the name of the great man whose servants -had possession of the inn. That frightened me still more; but the -learned doctor bought an account of all that had happened to us on the -road with a leathern bottle of the finest wine that was ever squeezed -out of the grape, and added over and above, that Madame de Giac, the -duke's mistress, was expected at the inn, and had sent her husband -away to Blois. That frightened me more than ever." - -"Why so?" asked Jean Charost. "Why should you be frightened by any of -these things you heard? Their highnesses of Burgundy and Orleans are -now in perfect amity I understand, and Madame de Giac, when I saw her -before, seemed any thing but ill disposed toward my royal master." - -"Ah! sir," replied Martin Grille; "the amity of princes is a ticklish -thing to trust to; and the friendship of a lady of many loves is -somewhat like the affection of a spider. God send that the Duke of -Burgundy be as well disposed to the royal duke as you think, and that -Madame de Giac work no mischief between them; for the one, I think, is -as sincere as the other, and I would not trust my little finger in the -power of either, if it served their purpose to cut it off." - -"Nay," answered Jean Charost; "I certainly do not now think that the -Duke of Burgundy is well disposed to his highness of Orleans; for I -have had good reason to believe the contrary." - -"There is no one believes he is, but the duke himself," said Armand -Chauvin. "His highness is too frank. He rides out in a furred gown to -meet a man armed with all pieces. But hark! how that man is walking -about! He must be troubled with some unquiet spirit." - -All listened in silence for a moment or two, and a slow, heavy -footfall was heard pacing backward and forward in the adjoining room, -from which the hall was only separated by one of the doors that has -been mentioned. Jean Charost thought that he heard a groan too, and -there was something in the dull and solemn tread, unceasing and -unvaried as it was, that had a gloomy and oppressive effect. - -No one spoke for several minutes, and the time of the astrologer's -return seemed long; but at length the steps in the adjoining room -ceased, the door was thrown open, and a low, deep voice exclaimed, "If -you have returned, why do you keep me waiting? Ha! strangers all!" - -The speaker, who had taken one step into the room, was, as the maid -had described him, a tall, thin, gaunt man, of the middle age, with a -stern, wild, impetuous expression of countenance. His gray hair and -his gray beard seemed not to have been trimmed for weeks, and his -apparel, though costly, was negligently cast on. There was a wrinkle -between his brows, so deep that one might have laid a finger in it, -fixed and immovable, as if it had grown there for years, deepening -with time. But the brow, with its heavy frown, seemed the only feature -that remained at rest; for the eye flashed and wandered, the lip -quivered, and the nostrils expanded, as if there were an infinite -multitude of emotions passing ever through the heart, and writing -their transient traces oil the countenance as they went. - -He paused for a single moment, almost in the doorway, holding a lamp -high in his hand, and glancing his eyes from the face of Martin -Grille, who was next to him, to that of Armand Chauvin, and then to -the countenance of Jean Charost. As he gazed at the latter, however, a -look of doubt, and then of recognition, came upon his countenance, and -taking another step forward, he exclaimed, "Ha! young man; is that -you? Something strange links our destiny together. I came hither to -inquire of Fate concerning you; and here you are, to meet me." - -"I am glad to see you without your late companions, sir," replied Jean -Charost. "I feared you might be in some peril." - -"No danger--no danger," answered the other. "They were ruffians--but -what am I? Not a man there but had fought under my pennon on fields of -honorable warfare. Wrong, injustice, baseness, ingratitude, had made -gallant soldiers low marauders--what has the same made me--a demon, -with hell in my heart, with hell behind me, and hell before!" - -He paused for an instant, and pressed his hand hard upon his brow; -then raising his eyes again to the face of Jean Charost, he said, in a -tone more calm, but stern and commanding, "Come with me, youth--I -would speak with you alone;" and he returned to the other chamber. - -"For the blessed Virgin's sake, don't go with him, sir," exclaimed -Martin Grille. - -"You had better not, Monsieur De Brecy," said Armand Chauvin. "The man -seems mad." - -"No fear, no fear," answered Jean Charost, walking toward the door. - -"Well, give one halloo, and you shall have help," said Chauvin; and -the young gentleman passed out and closed the door behind him. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - - -Martin Grille looked at Armand Chauvin, and Armand Chauvin at Martin -Grille, but neither spoke; for Armand was by nature somewhat taciturn, -and the other, though he did not venture in the presence of the -_chevaucheur_ to put his ear or his eye to the keyhole, remained -listening as near the door as possible, with a good deal of -apprehension it is true, but still more curiosity. The conversation, -however, between Jean Charost and the stranger commenced in a low -tone, and gave nothing to the hall but an indistinct murmur of voices. -Very speedily, however, the tones began to be raised; Jean Charost -himself spoke angrily; but another voice almost drowned his, pouring -forth a torrent of invectives, not upon him, it would seem; for the -only sentence completely heard showed that some other person was -referred to. "There is every sort of villain in the world," cried the -voice; "and he is a villain of the damnedest and the blackest dye. The -cut-throat and the thief, the swindler, the traitor, are all -scoundrels of their kind; but what is he who--" - -The voice fell again; and Martin Grille, turning to his companion, -grasped his arm, saying, "Go in--go in. He will do him some mischief, -I am very much afraid." - -"I am not so much accustomed to be afraid, either for myself or for -other people," answered Chauvin. "The young gentleman will call out if -he wants me." - -Almost at the same moment, without the sound of any opening door from -the street, the astrologer entered the room with a hurried step and -somewhat disturbed look. "Ha! my friend," he said, as his eyes fell on -Martin Grille. "Where is your young master?" - -"Within there," replied Martin, "with that other devil of a man. Don't -you hear how loud they are talking?" - -Without reply or ceremony, the astrologer opened the door leading into -the other room, entered and closed it again; but during the brief -moment of his passing in both Martin and Chauvin caught a sight of the -figures within. Jean Charost was standing with his arms crossed upon -his chest, in an attitude of stern and manly dignity which neither of -them had ever before seen him assume, while the stranger, as if -exhausted by the burst of passion to which he had given way, was cast -negligently on a seat, his arm resting on a table, and his head bowed -down with the gray locks falling loose upon his forehead. Martin -Grille felt sure he perceived large tear drops rolling over his -cheeks; but the door was closed in an instant, and he saw no more. - -From the moment of the astrologer's entrance the conversation was -carried on in a low tone; but it lasted nearly three quarters of an -hour, and at the end of that time the door again opened, and the three -who were in the inner chamber came out into the hall. - -"Now I am ready to go," said Jean Charost. "Unfasten the horses, -Martin Grille." - -"I thought we were to stay here all night, sir," replied Chauvin, -"and I think, sir, you had better consider what you do. I may tell you -now, what I did not mention before, that the bearing on my cap very -soon betrayed that I belonged to the Duke of Orleans, and I heard bets -made among the Burgundy people that we should not go five miles before -we were brought back. There was a great deal of talk about it that I -don't remember, as to whether his highness would keep you or let you -go at all; but all agreed that if he did let you go, you would not go -far without being stopped and searched. I took no notice, and -pretended not to hear; but I slipped out quietly and saddled the -horses." - -"You did well, Chauvin," replied the young secretary. "But I must not -delay when there is a possibility of going forward. This gentleman -agrees to show us a less dangerous way than the high-road, and I am -determined to put myself under his guidance. The responsibility be -upon my head." - -"Well, sir, I have nothing to do but obey," replied the _chevaucheur_, -and took a step toward the door. - -"Stay a moment," said the astrologer. "I have ordered you some -refreshment, and I have two words to write to the noble duke, Monsieur -De Brecy. Tell him I am his faithful servant ever, and that I greatly -regret to have to warn him of such impending danger." - -"I beseech you, my good friend," replied Jean Charost, "send your -warning by some other messenger; first, because I may be long upon the -way, and tidings of such importance should reach his highness soon; -secondly, because I would fain not be a bird of evil omen. Great men -love not those who bring them bad tidings. But the first reason is the -best. I will take your letter, however unwillingly, but eight-and-forty -hours must elapse ere I can reach Blois. I shall then have to wait the -pleasure of the duchess, and then return, probably, by slow journeys; -valuable time will be lost, and your intelligence may come too late." - -"So be it," said the astrologer; "although--" - -But before he could finish the sentence, a tawny colored man, dressed -somewhat fantastically, in a white tunic and large turban, entered the -room bearing in bottles and silver cups. "You have seldom tasted such -wine as this," said the astrologer, offering the first cup he poured -out to the tall gaunt stranger. "Take it, my lord. You are my early -friend and patron; and you must not depart without drinking wine in my -house. It will do you good, and raise your spirits." - -"I would not have them raised," replied the stranger, putting aside -the cup. "False happiness is not what I desire. I have had too much of -that already. My misery is pure, if it be bitter. I would not mingle -it with a fouler thing." - -Those were the only words he spoke from that moment till the whole -party reached the neighborhood of Chilleurs aux Rois. - -Martin Grille drank his cup of wine, and hastened to bring out the -horses. Armand Chauvin drank likewise, and followed him in silence, -and when the astrologer accompanied his two noble guests to the -court-yard, they found a tall, powerful gray horse held ready by the -Moor. Jean Charost took leave of his host with a few courteous words; -but the stranger mounted in silence, rode out as soon as the gates -were open, and turning at once to the right, led the way quite round -the town, crossed a small stream, and then, by paths with which he -seemed perfectly well acquainted, dashed on at a quick pace to the -westward, leaving the others to come after as best they could, much to -the inconvenience, be it said, of poor Martin Grille, whose horse -stumbled continually, as horses will do with bad riders. - -Jean Charost kept generally by the stranger's side, and once or twice -spoke a few words to him; but he received no answer, and through the -long night they rode on, even after the moon had gone down, without -drawing a rein till, just at the gray of the morning, they -distinguished a church steeple, at the distance of about half a mile -on the right. There the stranger pulled up his horse suddenly, and -said, "Chilleurs aux Rois." - -"Here, I suppose, we are safe," said Jean Charost. - -"Quite safe," was the brief reply. "Fare you well--remember!" - -"I always remember my given word," replied Jean Charost; "where can I -see or hear from you in case of need?" - -The stranger gazed at him with a grim dark smile; turned his horse's -head and galloped away. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - - -The curiosity of Martin Grille was greatly excited. The curiosity of -Martin Grille could not rest. He had no idea of a master having a -secret from a valet. What were valets made for? he asked himself. What -could they do in the world if there was any such thing as a secret -from them? He determined he would find out that of his master, and he -used every effort, trusting to Jean Charost's inexperience to lead him -into any admission--into any slip of the tongue--which would give one -simple fact regarding the stranger whom they had met at Pithiviers, -relying on his own ingenuity to combine it with what he had already -observed, so as to make some progress on the way to knowledge. But -Jean Charost foiled all his efforts, and afforded him not the -slightest hint of any kind, greatly raising his intellect in the -opinion of his worthy valet, but irritating Martin's curiosity still -further. - -"If there be not some important secret," thought the man, "why should -he be so anxious to conceal it?" and he set to work to bring Armand -Chauvin into a league and confederacy for the purpose of discovering -the hidden treasure. - -Armand, however, not only rejected all his overtures, but reproved him -for his curiosity. "I know not what is the business of valets, Master -Martin," he said; "but I know my own business. The _chevaucheur_ -should be himself as secret as the grave. Should know nothing, see -nothing, hear nothing, except what he is told in the way of his -business. If a secret message is given him to convey, he should forget -it altogether till he sees the person to whom it is to be delivered, -and then forget it again as soon as it is given. Take my advice, -Master Martin, and do not meddle with your master's secrets. Many a -man finds his own too heavy to bear, and many a man has been hanged -for having those of other people." - -Martin Grille did not at all like the idea of being hanged, and the -warning quieted him from Orleans, where it was given, to the good -town, of Blois; but still he resolved to watch narrowly in after days, -and to see whether, by putting piece and piece together, he could not -pluck out the heart of Jean Charost's mystery. - -The three horsemen rode into the town of Blois at eventide, just as -the sun was setting; and, according to the directions he had received, -Jean Charost proceeded straight to the ancient château, which, when -somewhat altered from its then existing form, was destined to be the -scene of many tragic events in French history. - -Though the face of the world has remained the same, though mountain -and valley stand where valley and mountain stood, though towns and -fortresses are still to be found where towns and fortresses then -existed, the changes of society have been so great, the relations -between man and man, and between man and all external things, have -been so much altered, that it is with difficulty we bring our mind to -comprehend how certain things, all positive facts, existed in other -days, and to perceive the various relations--to us all strange and -anomalous--which thus arose. It is probable that the Duke of Orleans -did not possess a foot of land in the town of Blois besides the old -château, and that he did not hold that in pure possession. But, either -as appanage or fief, he held great territories in the central and -southwestern parts of France, which yielded him considerable revenue -in the shape of dues, tolls, and taxes, gave him the command of many -important towns, and placed in his hands, during life, a number of -magnificent residences, kept up almost entirely by services of vassals -or other feudal inferiors. Shortly before this time, the Duchy of -Aquitaine had been thus conceded to him, and Orleans, Blois, and a -number of small cities had been long in his possession. Thus the -château of Blois was at this time held by him, if not in pure -property, yet in full possession, and afforded a quiet retreat, if not -exactly a happy residence, to a wife whom he sincerely loved, without -passion, and esteemed, even while he neglected. - -Removed from the scenes of contention which were daily taking place -near the capital--contention often dignified by the name of war, but -more deserving that of anarchy--the town of Blois had enjoyed for many -years a peaceful and even sluggish calm, for the disorders of many -other parts of France, of course, put a stop to peaceful enterprise in -any direction, either mental or physical. There seemed no energy in -the place; and the little court there held by the Duchess of Orleans, -as well as the number of persons who usually resided in the town as a -place of security, afforded the only inducements to active industry. - -As Jean Charost rode along through the streets, there were shops which -might be considered gay, as the world then went; there were persons of -good means and bright clothing, and a number of the inferior class -taking an hour's exercise before the close of day. But there was none -of the eager bustle of a busy, thrifty city, and the amusement-loving -people of France seemed solely occupied with amusement in the town of -Blois. - -At the gates of the old castle, the draw-bridge was found down, the -portcullis raised, two lazy guards were pitching pieces of stone into -a hole dug in the middle of the way, and wrangling with each other -about their game. Both started up, however, as the three horsemen came -slowly over the bridge, and one thrust himself in the way with an air -of military fierceness as he saw the face of a stranger in the leader -of the party. The next moment, however, he exclaimed, "Ah! pardie: -Chauvin is that you? Who is this young gentleman?" - -"I am secretary to his highness the Duke of Orleans," replied Jean -Charost; "and I bear a letter to the duchess to deliver into her own -hands." - -Admission was not difficult to obtain; and Jean Charost was passed -from hand to hand till he found himself in the interior of that gloomy -building, which always seems to the visitor of modern times redolent -of bloody and mysterious deeds. - -A grave and respectable-looking man at length showed Jean Charost into -a handsomely-furnished room in one of the towers which looked out in -the direction of Tours; and, seating himself upon a large window-seat, -forming a coffer for firewood, he gazed out upon the scene below and -saw the sun set over the world of trees beneath him. Darkness came on -rapidly, but still he was suffered to remain alone, and silence -brooded over the whole place, unbroken even by a passing footfall. All -was so still that he could have fancied that some one was dead in the -place, and the rest were silent mourners. - -At length a slow, quiet footfall in the distance met his ear, coming -along with easy, almost drowsy pace, till the same old man appeared, -and conducted him through a length of passages and vacant rooms to the -presence of the Duchess of Orleans. - -She was seated in a large arm-chair, with a table by her side, and was -dressed almost altogether in black; but to the eyes of Jean Charost -she seemed exceedingly beautiful, with finely-shaped features, bright -eyes, and an expression of melancholy which suited well the peculiar -cast of her countenance. She gazed earnestly at Jean Charost as he -advanced toward her, and said, as soon as she thought him near enough, -"You come from his highness, I am told. How is my dear husband?" - -"Not so well as I could wish, madam," replied Jean Charost; "but this -letter which I have the honor to present will tell you more." - -The duchess held out her fair hand for the epistle, but it trembled -greatly as she took it; and the young secretary would not venture to -look in her face as she was reading, for he knew that she would be -greatly agitated. She was so, indeed; but she recovered herself -speedily, and, speaking still with a slight foreign accent, demanded -further details. - -"He says only that he is ill," she exclaimed. "Tell me, sir--tell me -how he really is. Did you see him? Yes, you must have seen him, for he -says you are his secretary. Has he concealed any thing in this letter? -Is it necessary that I should set out this night? I am quite ready. He -must be very ill," she added, in a low and melancholy tone, "or he -would not have sent for me." - -"His highness is ill, madam," replied Jean Charost, "seriously ill, I -fear; but I trust not dangerously so. The contentions in which he has -lately been engaged with the Duke of Burgundy, but which are now -happily over--" - -"Oh, that house of Burgundy! that house of Burgundy!" said the -duchess, in a low, sad tone. - -"These, and many other anxieties," continued Jean Charost, "together -with much fatigue, have produced, what I should suppose, some sort of -fever, and a great depression of mind--a melancholy--which probably -makes his highness imagine his illness even greater than it is. I -should think, however, madam, that by setting out this night you would -not greatly accelerate your journey. The roads are difficult and -somewhat dangerous--" - -"Nevertheless, I will go," replied the duchess; and putting her hand -before her eyes, she seemed to fall into thought for a few moments. -Jean Charost saw some tear-drops trickle through her fingers, and the -young man, inexperienced as he was, felt how many emotions might -mingle with those tears. He withdrew his eyes, and fixed them on the -ground, and at length the duchess said, "Will you call my attendants, -sir, from the ante-room? I must make preparation." - -She pointed, as she spoke, to a different door to that by which the -young gentleman had been introduced, and Jean Charost walked toward -it, bowing to the princess, as if taking leave. She stopped him, -however, to bid him return in a few minutes, saying, with a sad smile, -"My thoughts are too busy, Monsieur De Brecy, to attend to courtesy; -but I beseech you, take care of yourself as if you were an inmate of -the house. My husband seems to have much confidence in you, and -desires that you should accompany me. If you are too much fatigued to -do so to-night, you can follow me to-morrow, and will doubtless -overtake me in time." - -"Not too much fatigued myself, madam," replied Jean Charost; "but I -fear my horses could not go far. If there be time, I will provide -others." - -"Oh, that will be easily managed," she answered. "There are always -horses enough here. I will see that you are mounted." - -The young gentleman then proceeded to the ante-room, where he found a -bevy of young girls, each seated demurely at her embroidery frame, -under the eye of an elder lady. Gay glances were shot at him from -every side, but he contented himself with simply announcing the -duchess's commands, and then proceeded in search of his companions of -the road. He found that Armand Chauvin was completely at home in the -château of Blois, and had made Martin Grille quite familiar with the -place already; nor did the young gentleman himself feel any of that -shy timidity which he had experienced when, as a stranger, unknown to -all around him, he had first taken up his abode in the Hôtel -d'Orleans. There was a subdued and quiet tone, too, about the court of -the duchess, very different from the gay and somewhat insolent -demeanor of her husband's younger attendants; and the young secretary, -now known as such, was treated with all courtesy, and obtained every -thing he could desire for the refreshment of himself and his horses. -Gradually, however, the bustle of preparation spread from the -apartments of the duchess through the rest of the house, accompanied -by the report of her being about to set out that very night to join -her husband at Beauté. All were eager to know the cause and the -particulars, and an old major-domo ventured to come into the hall -where Jean Charost was seated with some wine and meat before him, to -extract every information that he could upon the subject. He received -very cautious answers, however, and ere he had carried his questions -far, he was interrupted by the entrance of the _chevaucheur_, in some -haste and apparent alarm. - -"They tell me, Monsieur De Brecy," he said in his abrupt manner, "that -the duchess sets forth to-night." - -Jean Charost nodded his head. - -"Have you told her," asked Chauvin, "that the Duke of Burgundy is on -the road between this and the Seine?" - -"No," answered Jean Charost, starting up, his mind seizing at once the -vague idea of danger. "Surely he would not--" - -"Humph!" said Armand Chauvin. "There is no knowing what he would not." - -"Indeed, there is not," said the old major-domo; "and methinks the -duchess should send out a party of _piqueurs_ to bring him in, or -clear the way of him." - -"I had better tell her," said Jean Charost thoughtfully. "If there be -danger, she will judge of it better than I can." - -"I will show you the way, sir--I will show you the way," said the old -major-domo, with officious civility. "This way, if you please--this -way." - -When again admitted to the presence of the duchess, the young -secretary informed her that he had met with the Duke of Burgundy at -Pithiviers, but excused his not having mentioned the fact before on -the ground of not apprehending any danger in consequence of the recent -reconciliation of the houses of Burgundy and Orleans. It soon became -evident to him, however, that all the friends and attendants of the -Duke of Orleans, although he himself had seemed perfectly confident of -his cousin's good faith, looked upon the late reconciliation as but a -hollow deceit, which would be set at naught by the Duke of Burgundy as -soon as it suited his convenience. The duchess evidently shared in -this general feeling; but still she determined to pursue her first -intention, and merely took the precaution of ordering her escort to be -doubled. - -"I believe," she said, "that there is not a man goes with me who will -not shed the last drop of his blood in my defense and you, too, -Monsieur De Brecy, will do the same out of love for my dear husband." - -"Right willingly, madam," replied Jean Charost: "but I trust you may -escape all peril." - -The duchess soon dismissed him again, telling him that there would be -ample time for him to take some repose; that their preparations would -not be complete till nearly midnight; but Jean Charost contented -himself with a short sleep in a large arm-chair in the hall, and then -started up from the blessed, dreamless slumber of youth, refreshed and -ready for new exertion. About an hour after, the midnight march began. -The litter of the princess, containing herself and her youngest son, -was drawn by four white mules; but in advance were eight or ten -men-at-arms, cased in plate armor, and lance in hand. A large body -followed the litter; and on either side of it rode several of the -noble retainers of the house of Orleans more lightly armed, among whom -was Jean Charost. The moon shone out brightly; and as her pale rays -fell upon the duchess's litter with its white curtains, and upon -another, containing some of her female attendants, which followed, and -glistened upon the steel casques and corselets of the men-at-arms as -they wound in and out along the banks of the river, the whole formed a -scene strangely exciting to the imagination of Jean Charost, who had -seen little, for many years, of any thing like military display. The -march passed quietly enough, and for the first three or four days no -incident of any kind occurred which is worthy of detail. On many -occasions the young secretary had the opportunity of conversing with -the duchess; and her quiet gentleness, the strong, unshaken, -uncomplaining affection which she showed toward her husband with all -his faults, together with native graces unhardened, and personal -beauty hardly touched by time, made Jean Charost marvel greatly at the -wayward heart of man, and ask himself, with doubt and almost fear, if -ever he himself could be brought to sport with or neglect the -affections of a being such as that. - -In the neighborhood of Pithiviers, it was ascertained that the Duke of -Burgundy had retired from that part of the country two days before, -turning his steps toward Paris; and the Duchess of Orleans, freed from -all apprehensions, sent back the military part of her escort to Blois, -remarking, with a smile, to Jean Charost, "I must not, except in case -of need, go to my husband with such a body of armed men, as if I came -to take his castle by storm." - -"I can assure you, madam," replied the young secretary, laying some -emphasis on the words, "you will find that it is surrendered to you at -discretion." - -At the next halting-place the litter stopped, about an hour before -sunset. There were few attendants around; the old major domo was -somewhat slow in dismounting, and Jean Charost, who was sooner on -foot, drew back the curtains to permit the duchess to alight. She had -hardly set her foot to the ground, however, when a hard, powerful hand -was laid upon the young secretary's shoulder, and a hollow voice said, -aloud, "Young man, God will bless you. I find you are faithful and -true amid the false and the deceitful." - -Both the duchess and Jean Charost turned suddenly to look at the -speaker. The latter recognized him at once as the stranger whom he had -seen at Pithiviers, and on one occasion before; but the duchess drew a -little back, murmuring, with a look of alarm, "Who is that person?" - -"Strange to say, madam," replied the young secretary, "I can not tell -your highness. I have seen him once or twice in somewhat singular -circumstances; but his name I do not know." - -As soon as the stranger had uttered the words above mentioned, he had -crossed his arms upon his breast and moved away, hardly noticed by the -attendants in the bustle of arrival; but the duchess followed him -still with her eyes; and then, as she walked on, she repeated twice -the stranger's words, "You are faithful and true amid the false and -the deceitful;" and then, looking earnestly in Jean Charost's face, -she added, "Will you be faithful and true to me also, young -gentleman?" - -"I am sure he will, mother," said her young son, who was holding her -hand; and Jean Charost replied, "To all who trust me, I will be so, -madam. When I am not, I pray God that I may die." - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - - -When within a few miles of the château of Beauté, Armand Chauvin was -sent forward to announce the near approach of the duchess; and she -herself, though the weather was still intensely cold, notwithstanding -the brightness of the sunshine, ordered the curtains of the litter to -be looped up, in order that she might see the castle before she -actually reached it. Her anxiety evidently increased as they came -nearer and nearer the dwelling of her husband. And who is there, after -being long absent from those they love, who does not, on approaching -the place of their abode, feel a strange, thrilling anxiety in regard -to all that time may have done? It is at that moment that the -uncertainty of human fate, the hourly peril of every happiness, the -dark possibilities of every moment of existence seem to rush upon the -mind at once. I have often thought that, if man could but know the -giddy pinnacle upon which his fortunes ever stand, the precipices that -surround him on every side; the perils above, below, around, life -would be intolerable. But he is placed in the midst of friendly mists, -that conceal the abysses from his eye, and is led on by a hand--in -those mists equally unseen--which guides his steps aright, and brings -him home at length. It is only the intense anxiety of affection for -those we love that ever wafts the vapors away, even for a moment, and -gives us a brief sight of the dangers that surround our mortal being, -while the hand of the Almighty Guide remains concealed, and but too -often untrusted. - -While still at some miles' distance from the castle, the towers and -pinnacles were seen peeping over the shoulder of a wooded hill, and -then they were lost again, and seen, and lost once more. The duchess -then beckoned up Jean Charost to the side of her litter, conversed -with him some time, and asked him many questions: how long he had been -with the duke, who commended him to her husband's service, what was -his family and his native place. She asked, too, more particularly -regarding her husband's health, whether his illness had been sudden, -or announced by any previous symptoms of declining health; but she -asked not one question regarding his conduct, his habits, or any of -his acts. She did not need to ask, indeed; but, even if she had not -known too well, still she would have abstained. - -At length the hill was climbed, the wood was passed, the gate of the -château of Beauté was in view, with attendants already marshaled on -each side of the draw-bridge, to honor the duchess's reception. As -soon as the head of her little escort appeared upon the road, a page -ran into the ward-room of the great tower, and the next instant -another figure came forth with that of the boy, and advanced along the -bridge. Greatly to Jean Charost's joy and satisfaction, he recognized -the figure of the duke, and when he looked toward the duchess, he saw -a bright and grateful drop sparkling in her eyes, which, in spite of a -struggle to repress it, rolled over and moistened her cheek. Another -moment, and the duke stood beside the litter; the mules stopped, and, -bending forward, he cast his arms around his wife. She leaned her head -upon his shoulder, and there must have shed tears; but they were soon -banished, and all parties bore a look of joy. Jean Charost could not -help remarking, however, that the duke was very pale, and looked older -by some years than when he had last seen him. But still, there was one -thing very satisfactory in his aspect to the eyes of the young man. -There was a gladness, a lightness of expression, an affectionate -earnestness in his greeting of the duchess which, from all he had -heard and knew, he had not expected. There was great satisfaction, -too, on the faces of all the elder attendants. Lomelini looked quite -radiant, and even Monsieur Blaize forgot his ancient formality, and -suffered his face to overrun with well-pleased smiles. He laid a -friendly grasp, too, upon Jean Charost's arm, as the duke and duchess -passed into the château, and walked on with him across the court, -saying, in a low voice, "You have done a good service, my young -friend, in bringing that lady back to this house, which might well -atone for a great number of faults. She has not been here for four -years." - -"I hope I have not accumulated many faults to atone for, good sir," -answered Jean Charost, smiling. "If I have, I am unconscious of them." - -"Oh, of course, that is between you and your own conscience," answered -Monsieur Blaize, in an off-hand kind of way. "It is no business of -mine." - -"I am glad to hear, at least, that it is not you I have offended," -answered Jean Charost. "You were my first friend in the household, -Monsieur Blaize, and I should be very sorry to give you any cause for -reproach." - -"Oh, no--no!" answered the old _écuyer_. "You have done nothing -against me at all. But as to the duchess--how has she passed the -journey? Did she meet with any difficulty or misadventure by the way?" - -"None whatever," answered the young secretary. "None were apprehended, -I presume." And then, judging Monsieur Blaize more clear-sightedly -than might have been expected in so young a man, he added, "Had there -been any danger, of course the duke would have sent yourself or some -gentleman of military experience." - -Monsieur Blaize was evidently well satisfied with the reply; but still -he rejoined, "Perhaps I could not well be spared from this place -during his highness's illness. We were in great consternation here, I -can tell you, my young friend." - -"Has he been very ill, then?" asked the secretary. - -"For two days after you were gone," replied Monsieur Blaize, "no one -thought to see him rise from his bed again; and he himself evidently -thought his last hours were coming. He sent for notaries, made his -will, and was driven at length to get a leech from Paris--a very -skillful man indeed. He consulted the moon, and the aspect of the -stars; chose the auspicious moment, gave him benzoin and honey, -besides a fever drink, and some drops, of which he would not tell the -secret, but which we all believed to be potable gold. It is wonderful, -the effect they had. He announced boldly that, at the change of the -moon, on the third day, the duke would be better; and so it proved. -His highness watched anxiously for the minute, and immediately the -clock struck he declared that he felt relieved, to our very great joy. -Since that time, he has continued to improve: but he can not be called -well yet. And now, if you will take my advice, you will go and order -yourself something to eat at the buttery, and then lie down and rest; -for you look as haggard and worn as an old courtier. It was too heavy -a task to put upon a boy like you." - -Jean Charost, during the whole of this conversation, had been carrying -on in his own mind, as we so continually do, a separate train or -undercurrent of thought, as to what could be the faults which good -Monsieur Blaize seemed to impute to him; and he came to conclusions -very naturally which proved not far from the truth. There was but one -point in his whole history in regard to which there was any thing like -mystery, and he judged rightly that, if men were inclined to attribute -to him any evil act, they must fix upon that point as a basis. He was -determined to learn more, if possible, however; and, in reply to -Monsieur Blaize's advice to get food and rest, he said, laughingly, -"Oh no, Monsieur Blaize, before I either eat or sleep, I must go down -to the hamlet, to see my baby." - -"Well, you speak of it coolly enough," replied Monsieur Blaize. - -"Why should I not?" answered Jean Charost, quickly. But the old -gentleman suddenly turned away and left him; and Jean Charost was at -once convinced that some calumny had been circulated among the -household in regard to the child which had been so strangely thrown -upon his hands. By early misfortunes and difficulties he had been -taught to decide rapidly and energetically, and his mind was soon made -up on the present occasion, to seek the first opportunity of telling -his own story to the Duke of Orleans, and explaining every thing, as -far as it was in his power to explain. In the mean while, however, as -soon as he had given some directions to Martin Grille, he strolled -down to the hamlet and sought out the house of Madame Moulinet. He -knocked first with his hand, and there being no answer, though he -thought he heard the voices of persons within, he opened the door and -entered at once into the kitchen. Madame Moulinet was seated there, -with the child upon her knee; but the door on the opposite side of the -room was closing just as Jean Charost went in, and he caught a glance -of a black velvet mantle, before it was actually shut. - -"How thrives the child, Madame Moulinet?" asked Jean Charost, looking -down upon the infant with a glance of interest, but with none of that -peculiar admiration which grown women feel and grown men often affect -for a very young baby. - -The good woman assured him that the child was doing marvelously, and -Jean Charost then proceeded to inquire whether any one, during his -absence, had been to visit or inquire after it. - -"Oh, a quantity of people from the castle, sir," answered the good -dame; "that saucy young fellow De Royans among the rest, and old -Monsieur Blaize, and the chaplain, and the fool, God wot! But beside -that--" and she dropped her voice to a lower tone--"one evening, just -as we were going to bed, there came a strange, wild-looking gentleman, -with long gray hair, who seemed so mad he frightened both me and my -husband. He asked a number of questions. Then he stared at the child -for full five minutes, and cried out at length, 'Ah! she doubtless -looked once like that,' and then he threw down a purse upon the table -with fifty gold crowns in it. So the little maid has got her little -fortune already." - -"Did you not know him?" asked Jean Charost. - -"I never saw him in my life before," replied the woman; "and, in -truth, I did not know how to answer any one when they asked me about -the child, as you were gone, and had not told me what to say; so all I -could tell them was that you had brought her here, had paid well for -nursing her, and had commanded me to take good care of her in the name -of my good father's old lord." - -"And was that wild-looking man not your father's old lord?" asked Jean -Charost, in a tone of much surprise. - -"Lord bless your heart, no sir," replied Madame Moulinet. "A hand's -breadth taller, and not half so stout--quite a different sort of man -altogether." - -Jean Charost mused in silence; but he asked no further questions, and -shortly after returned to the château. - -In passing through the court-yard, the first person the young -gentleman encountered was Seigneur André the fool, who at once began -upon the subject of the child with a good deal of malevolence. "Ah, -ha! Mr. Secretary," he said, "I want to roam the forests with you, and -find out the baby-tree that bears living acorns. On my faith, the duke -ought to knight you with his own hand, being the guide of ladies, and -the protector of orphans, the defender of women and children." - -"My good friend," replied Jean Charost, "I think he ought to promote -you also. I have heard of a good many gentlemen of your profession; -but all the rest are mere pretenders to you. The others only call -themselves fools; you are one in reality;" and with these tart words, -excited as much, perhaps, by some new feeling of doubt and perplexity -in his own mind, as by the jester's evident ill will toward him, he -walked on and sought his own chamber. - -The rest of the day passed without any incident worthy of notice, -except some little annoyance which the young secretary had to endure -from a very general feeling of ill will toward him among those who had -been longer in the service of the Duke of Orleans than himself. He was -unconscious, indeed, of deserving it, but one of the sad lessons of -the world was being learned: that success and favor create bitter -enemies; and he had already made some progress in the study. He took -no notice, therefore, of hints, jests, and insinuations, but sought -his own room as soon as supper was over, and remained reading for -nearly an hour. At the end of that time, one of the duke's menial -attendants entered, saying briefly, "Monsieur De Brecy, his highness -has asked to see you in his toilet chamber." - -Jean Charost followed immediately, and found the duke seated in his -furred dressing-gown, as if prepared to retire to rest. His face was -grave, and there was a certain degree of sternness about it which Jean -Charost had never remarked there before. He spoke kindly, however, and -bade the young gentleman be seated. - -"I hear from the duchess, my friend," he said, "that you have well and -earnestly executed the task I gave you to perform, and I thank you. I -wish, however, to hear some more particular account of your journey -from your own lips. You arrived, it seems, at Blois sooner than I -imagined you could have accomplished the journey. You must have ridden -hard." - -"I lost no time, your highness," answered Jean Charost; "but an event -happened on the road which made me ride one whole night without -stopping, although the horses were very tired. It is absolutely -necessary, when you have leisure, that I should relate to your -highness all the particulars of that night's adventure, as they may be -of importance, the extent of which I can not judge." - -The duke smiled with a well-pleased look. "Tell me all about it now," -he said. "I shall not go to bed for an hour; so we shall have time -enough." - -Succinctly, but as clearly and minutely as possible, Jean Charost then -related to the prince all that had occurred between himself and the -Duke of Burgundy, and took especial care to mention his visit to the -house of the astrologer, and his having been guided by a stranger on -the way to Blois. The duke listened with a countenance varying a good -deal, sometimes assuming an expression of deep grave thought, and at -others of gay, almost sarcastic merriment. At length he laughed -outright. - -"See what handles," he said, "men will make of very little things! But -truth and honesty will put down all. I am glad you have frankly told -me all this, De Brecy." - -Then he paused again for a moment or two, and added, abruptly, "My -good cousin of Burgundy--he was always the most curious and -inquisitive of men. I do believe this was all curiosity, my friend. I -do not think he meant you any evil, or me either. He wanted to know -all; for he is a very suspicious man." - -"I think, sir, he is one of the most disagreeable men I ever saw," -replied Jean Charost. "Even his condescension has something scornful -in it." - -"And yet, De Brecy," replied the duke, "out of this very simple affair -of your meeting with John of Burgundy, there be people who would have -fain manufactured a charge against you." - -Jean Charost gazed in the duke's race with some surprise, never having -dreamed that the intelligence of what had occurred on the road could -have reached him so soon. "I am surprised that Armand should attribute -any evil to me, sir," he said; "for he must have seen how eager I was -to escape." - -"Acquit poor Armand," said the duke. "He had naught to do with the -affair; but you have enemies in this house, De Brecy, who will find -that their master understands courts and courtiers, and will never -shake my good opinion of you, so long as you are honest and frank with -me. They set on that malicious fool, André, to pick out some mischief -from Armand Chauvin. He got him to relate all that had happened, and -then, when I sent for the fool to divert me for half an hour, he told -me, with his wise air, that you had had a secret interview with the -Duke of Burgundy, which lasted several hours. It is strange how near -half a truth sometimes comes to a whole lie! They have not been -wanting in their friendship for you during your absence. Nevertheless, -I doubt not you could explain all their tales as easily as you have -done this--even if you have committed some slight indiscretion, I have -no right to tax you. Well, well--good-night. Some day I will say -something more, as your friend--as one who has more experience--as one -who has suffered, if he has sinned." - -"I thank your highness," replied Jean Charost, "and will not presume -to intrude upon you further to-night; but there is one matter of much -importance to myself--of none to your highness--which I would fain -communicate to you for counsel and direction in my inexperience, when -you can give me a few minutes' audience." - -"Ha!" said the duke; but as he spoke the clock of the castle struck -eleven, and saying, "To-morrow morning--to-morrow morning I will send -for you," he suffered the young secretary to retire. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - - -In the court-yard of the château of Beauté--a long, but somewhat -narrow parallelogram--were assembled most of the male members of the -Duke of Orleans's household, two days after the return of Jean Charost -from Blois. Some were on horseback, and some on foot; and nine or ten -of the younger men were armed with a long ash staff, shaped somewhat -like a lance, while the rest of the party were in their ordinary -riding-dresses, with no arms but the customary sword and dagger. All -these were gathered together at one end of the court, while a -trumpeter, holding his trumpet with its bell-shaped mouth leaning on -his hip, was placed a little in advance. - -At the other end of the court stood a column of wood, perhaps six feet -in height, surmounted by a grotesque-looking carved image, -representing the upper part of a man, with both arms extended, and a -long, heavy cudgel in each hand. After a moment's pause, and a -consultation among the elder heads, one of the inferior servants was -sent forward for purposes that will speedily be shown, to act as, what -was called, master of the _Quintain_; but he took care to place -himself beyond the sweep of the cudgel in the hand of the image so -called. - -The sport about to begin was of very ancient date, and had been -generally superseded by somewhat more graceful exercises; but the Duke -of Orleans was very fond of old customs, and had revived many -chivalrous sports which had fallen out of use. At a signal from -Monsieur Blaize, who was on foot, the trumpeter put his instrument of -noise to his lips, and blew a blast which, well understood, ranged the -young cavaliers instantly in line, and then, after a moment's pause, -sounded a charge. One of the party instantly sprung forward, lance in -rest, toward the Quintain, aiming directly at the centre of the head -of the figure. He was quite a young lad, and his arm not very steady, -so that he somewhat missed his mark, and struck the figure on the -cheek. Moving on a pivot, the Quintain whirled round under the blow, -with the arms still extended, and, as the horse carried the youth on, -he must have received a tremendous stroke from the wooden cudgel on -his back, had he not bent down to his horse's neck, so that the blow -passed over him. Some laughed; but Juvenel de Royans, who was the next -but one to follow, exclaimed aloud, "That's not fair." - -"Quite fair, I think," replied Jean Charost, who was near. - -"What do you know about it?" cried the other, impetuously. "Keep -yourself to pens, and things you understand." - -"I may, perhaps, understand it better than you, Monsieur De Royans," -replied Jean Charost, quite calmly. "It is the favorite game at -Bourges, and we consider that the next best point to hitting the -Quintain straight, is to avoid the blow." - -"That's the coward's point, I suppose," said Juvenel de Royans. - -"Hush! hush!" cried Monsieur Blaize. "Silence, sir. Sound again, -trumpet!" - -Another ran his course, struck the Quintain better, but did not -dismount it; and De Royans succeeded striking the figure right in the -middle of the forehead, and shaking the whole post, but still leaving -the wooden image standing. - -The great feat of the game was, not only to aim the spear so fair as -to avoid turning the figure in the least, but so low that the least -raising of the point at the same time threw it backward from its -pivot. But this was a somewhat dangerous man[oe]uvre; for the chest of -the image being quite flat, and unmarked by any central point, the -least deviation to the right or left swung round one of the cudgels -with tremendous force, and the young gentleman did not venture to -attempt it. - -Jean Charost, however, who, as a mere boy, had been trained to the -exercise by his father, aimed right at the breast; but he paid for his -temerity by a severe blow, which called forth a shout of laughter from -De Royans and his companions. Others followed, who fared as badly, -without daring as much. - -Each time the Quintain was moved, the servant who had been sent -forward readjusted it with the greatest care, and when each of the -young men had run his course, the troop commenced again. - -The rivalry between De Royans and De Brecy was by this time a -well-understood thing in the château, and little heed was paid to the -running of the rest till it came to the turn of the former. He then, -with a sort of mock courtesy, besought Jean Charost to take his turn, -saying, "You are the superior officer, sir, and, to say truth, I would -fain learn that dexterous trick of yours, if you venture upon it -again." - -"I certainly shall," replied Jean Charost, "and I shall be happy to -teach you that, or better things. I will run first. The Quintain is -not straight," he continued, calling to the master of the Quintain. -"Advance the right arm an inch." - -There was some little dispute as to whether the Quintain was straight -or not, but in the end the trumpet again sounded. Jean Charost, with a -better aim, hit the figure in the middle of the chest, and raising his -arm lightly at the same instant, threw it back upon the ground. Then -wheeling his horse, while the servant replaced it, he returned to his -post. But no one said "Well done," except old Monsieur Blaize; and -Juvenel de Royans bit his lip, with a red spot on his cheek. - -Rash, confident, and angry, he took no pains to see that the figure -was exactly straight, but dashed forward when the trumpet sounded, -resolved not to be outdone, aiming directly at the chest. Whether his -horse swerved, or the figure was not well adjusted, I do not know; but -he hit it considerably to the right of the centre, and, as he was -carried forward, the merciless cudgel struck him a blow on the back of -the neck which hurled him out of the saddle to the ground. - -Jean Charost did not laugh; but he could not refrain from a smile, -which caught De Royans's eyes as he led his horse back again. The -latter was dizzy and confused, however, and for a moment, after he had -given his horse to a servant, he stood gnawing his lip, without -uttering a word to any one. At length, as the others were running -their course, however, he walked up to the side of Jean Charost, who -was now a little apart from the rest, and some quick words and meaning -glances were seen to pass between them. Their voices grew louder; De -Royans touched the hilt of his sword; and Jean Charost nodded his -head, saying something in a low tone. - -"For shame! for shame!" said Monsieur Blaize, approaching; but, ere he -could add more, a casement just above their heads opened, and the -voice of the Duke of Orleans was heard. - -"Juvenel de Royans," he said, "have you any inclination for a dungeon? -There are cells to fit you under the castle; and, as I live, you shall -enjoy one if you broil in my household. I know you, sir; so be warned. -De Brecy, come here; I want you." - -Jean Charost immediately dismounted, gave his horse to Martin Grille, -and ascended to the gallery from which the Duke of Orleans had been -watching the sports of the morning. It was a large room, -communicating, by a door in the midst and a small vestibule, with that -famous picture-gallery which has been already mentioned. Voices were -heard talking beyond; but the duke, after his young secretary's -arrival, continued for a few minutes walking up and down the same -chamber in which Jean Charost found him, leaning lightly on his arm. - -"I know not how it is, my young friend," he said, in a sort of musing -tone, "but the people here are clearly not very fond of you. However, -I must insist that you take no notice whatever of that peevish boy, De -Royans." - -"I am most willing, sir," said Jean Charost, "to live at peace with -him and every one else, provided they will leave me at peace likewise. -I have given neither him nor them any matter for offense, and yet I -will acknowledge that since my first entrance into your highness's -household, I have met with little but enmity from any but good -Monsieur Blaize and Signor Lomelini, who are both, I believe, my -friends." - -The duke mused very gravely, and then replied, "I know not how it is. -To me it seems that there is nothing in your demeanor and conduct but -that which should inspire kindness, and even respect. And yet," he -continued, after a moment's pause, his face brightening with a gay, -intelligent smile, not uncommon upon it when that acuteness, which -formed one point in his very varied character, was aroused, by some -accidental circumstance, from the slumber into which it sometimes -fell--"and yet I am a fool to say I do not know how it is. I do know -right well, my young friend. Men of power and station do not enough -consider that all who surround them are more or less engaged in a -race, whose rivalry necessarily deviates into enmity; and their favor, -whenever it is given, is followed by the ill will of many toward the -single possessor. The more just and the more generous of the -competitors content themselves with what they can obtain, or, at -all events, do not deny some portion of merit to a more fortunate -rival; but the baser and the meaner spirits--and they are the most -numerous--not only envy, but hate; not only hate, but calumniate." - -"I am most grateful, sir, for all your kindness toward me," replied -Jean Charost; "but I can not at all attribute the enmity of Monsieur -de Royans, or any of the rest, to jealousy of your favor, for from the -moment I entered your household it was the same." - -"Oil and water do not easily mix," answered the duke. "The qualities -for which I esteem you make them hate you; not that your character and -mine are at all alike--very, very different. But there be some -substances, which, though most opposite to others, easily mingle with -them; others which, with more apparent similarity, are totally -repugnant. Your feelings are not my feelings, your thoughts not my -thoughts, yet I can comprehend and appreciate you; these men can not." - -"I am afraid, sir," said Jean Charost, "that I owe your good opinion -more to a prepossession in my favor than to any meritorious acts of my -own; for, indeed, I have had no opportunity of serving you." - -"Yes, you have, greatly," replied the duke; "not perhaps by acts, but -by words, which prove often the greatest services. He who influences a -man's mind, De Brecy, affects him more than he who influences his mere -earthly fortunes. I have often thought," he continued, in a musing -tone, "that we are never sufficiently grateful to those by whose -writings, by whose example, by whose speech, our hearts, our feelings, -or our reason have been formed and perfected. The mind has a fortune -as well as the body, and the latter is inferior to the former. But set -your mind at rest; they can not affect my opinion toward you. There is -but one thing which has puzzled me a little; this child, which they -tell me has been placed by you at one of the cottages hard by, I would -fain know who are its parents." - -"On that subject I can tell your highness nothing," replied Jean -Charost; "but the whole history, as far as I can give it, I will -give." - -"Hush!" said the duke, looking toward the picture-gallery, the door -from which was opened by the duchess at that moment. - -"There is nothing, sir, that I am afraid or ashamed to tell before the -duchess," replied Jean Charost. "The case may be strange; but, as far -as it affects me, it is a very simple one." - -"Well, then," said the duke, turning to the duchess, who was advancing -slowly and somewhat timidly, "you shall speak on, and your narrative -shall be our morning's amusement." - -His whole air changed in a moment; and, with a gay and sparkling look, -he said to the duchess, "Come hither, my sweet wife, and assist at the -trial of this young offender. He is charged before me of preaching -rather than practicing, of frowning, like a Franciscan, on all the -lighter offenses of love; and yet, what think you, I am told he has a -fair young lady, who has followed him hither, and is boarded by him in -one of the cottages just below the castle, when I do believe that, -were I but to give a glance at any pretty maiden, I should have as -sour a look as antique abbess ever gave to wavering nun." - -The duchess looked in Jean Charost's face for an instant, and then -said, "I'll be his surety, sir, that the tale is false." - -"Not so, indeed, your highness," replied Jean Charost. "The tale is -mostly true; but the duke should have added that this fair maid can -not be three months old." - -"Worse and worse!" cried the duke; "you can not escape penance for one -sin, my friend, by pleading a still greater one. But tell us how all -this happened; let us hear your defense." - -"It is a plain and true one, sir," replied Jean Charost. "The very -morning after our arrival here, I rode out for exercise, accompanied -only by my lackey, Martin Grille. In a wood, perhaps four miles -distant, we saw the smoke of a fire rising up not far from the road. -My man is city born, and full of city fears. He fancied that every -tree concealed a plunderer, and though he did not infect me with his -apprehensions, he excited my curiosity about this fire; so--" - -"Judging that a fire must have some one to light it," said the duke, -"you went to see. That much has been told in every nook of the house, -from the garret to the guest-chamber. What happened next?" - -"I tracked the marks of horse's feet," said Jean Charost, "from the -road through the wood, some hundred yards into the bushes, catching -the smoke still rising blue among the dark brown trees, and, of -course, appearing nearer as I went. I heard people talking loud, too, -and therefore fancied that I could get still nearer without being -seen. But suddenly, two men, who were lying hid hard by the path I had -taken, started out and seized me, crying 'Here is a spy--a spy!' A -number of others rushed up shouting and swearing, and I was soon -dragged on to the spot where the fire was lighted, which was a small -open space beneath an old beech-tree. There I found some three or four -others lying on the snow, all fully armed but one. Horses were -standing tied around. A lance was here and there leaning against the -trees, and battle-axes and maces were at many a saddle-bow; but I must -say that the harness was somewhat rusty, and the faces of my new -acquaintances not very clean or trim. The one who was unarmed, and who -I supposed was a prisoner like myself, stood before the fire with his -arms crossed on his chest. He was a tall man of middle age, with his -hair very gray, somewhat plainly dressed, but with an air of stern, -grave dignity not easily forgotten." - -"Had he no arms at all?" asked the duke. - -"None whatever, sir," replied Jean Charost; "not even sword or dagger. -One large, bulky man, lying as quietly on the snow as if it had been a -bed of down, had his feet to the fire, and, resting between them, I -saw, to my surprise, a young child, well wrapped up, with nothing but -the face peeping out, and sleeping soundly on a bed of pine branches. -I should weary your highness with all that happened. At first it -seemed that they would take my life, vowing that I had come to spy out -their movements; then they would have had me go with them and make one -of their band, giving me the choice of that or death. As I chose the -latter, they were about to give it me without much ceremony, when the -unarmed man interfered, in a tone of authority I had not expected to -hear him use. He commanded them, in short, to desist; and, after -whispering for a moment or two with the bulky man I have mentioned, he -pointed to the child, and told me that, if I would swear most solemnly -to guard and protect her, to be a father to her, and to see that she -was nourished and educated in innocence and truth, they would let me -go." - -"Did you know the man?" asked the Duke of Orleans, with a look of more -interest than he had before displayed. - -"No, sir," replied the young secretary. "A faint, faint recollection -of having somewhere seen a face like his I assuredly did feel; but he -certainly seemed to know me, spoke of me as one attached to your -highness, and asked how long I had left Paris. His words were wild and -whirling, indeed; a few sentences he would speak correctly enough; but -they seemed forced from him, as if with pain, straining his eye upon -the fire or upon the ground, and falling into silence again as soon as -they were uttered." - -"Was he some merchant, perhaps?" asked the duke; "some one who has had -dealings with our friend, Jacques C[oe]ur?" - -"He was no merchant, sir," said Jean Charost; "but I think, if ever I -did see him before, it must have been with Jacques C[oe]ur, for he had -dealings with many men of high degree; and I doubt not that this -person, however plain his garb and strange his demeanor, is a man of -noble blood and a high name." - -The young man paused, as if there were more to be said which he -hesitated to utter; and then, after giving a somewhat anxious glance -toward the duchess, he added, "I may remember more incidents -hereafter, sir, which I will not fail to tell you." - -"Did he give you no sign or token with this child," asked the duke, -"by which one may trace her family and history? Did he tell you -nothing of her parents?" - -"He said he was not her father," replied Jean Charost, gravely; "but -that was all the information he afforded. He gave me this ring, too," -continued the young man, producing one, "and a purse of gold pieces to -pay for her nourishment." - -The duke took the ring and examined it carefully; but it was merely a -plain gold circle without any distinctive mark. Nevertheless, Jean -Charost thought his master's hand shook a little as he held the ring, -and the duchess, who was looking over her husband's shoulder, said, -"It is a strange story. Pray, tell me, Monsieur de Brecy, was this -gentleman the same who spoke to you at the inn-door upon the road?" - -"The same, madam," replied Jean Charost. - -"Who was he? Did you ever see him before?" asked the duke, turning -toward his wife with an eager look. - -"Never," answered the duchess; "but he was a very singular and -distinguished-looking man. He was a gentleman assuredly, and I should -think a soldier; for he had a deep scar upon the forehead which cut -straight through the right eyebrow." - -The duke returned the ring to Jean Charost in silence; but the moment -after he turned so deadly pale that the duchess exclaimed, "You are -ill, my lord. You have exerted yourself too much to-day. You forget -your late sickness, and how weak you are." - -"No, no," replied the duke. "I feel somewhat faint: it will pass by in -a moment. Let us go into the picture-gallery. I will sit down there in -the sunshine." - -Without reply, the duchess put her arm through his, and led him onward -to the gallery, making a sign for Jean Charost to follow; and the -duke, seating himself in a large chair, gazed over the walls, still -marked by a lighter color here and there where a picture had lately -hung. - -"Those walls must be cleaned," he said, at length; "though I doubt if -the traces can be obliterated." - -"Oh, yes," answered the duchess, in a tone of sportive tenderness; -"there is no trace of any of man's acts which can not be effaced, -either by his own deeds, or his friend's efforts, or his God's -forgiveness." - -She spoke to his thoughts rather than to his words, and the duke took -her hand, and pressed his lips upon it. Then, turning to Jean Charost, -he pointed to the picture of the duchess, saying, "Is not that one -worthy to remain when all the rest are gone?" - -"Most worthy, sir," replied the young secretary, a little puzzled what -to answer. "The others were mere daubs to that." - -"What, then, you saw them?" said the duchess. - -"His hands burned them," replied the duke. - -"That strange man whom we met," replied the duchess, "declared that he -was faithful and true, where all were false and deceitful; and so he -will be to us, Louis. Trust him, my husband--trust him." - -"I will," replied the duke. "But here comes Lomelini." - -The duchess drew herself up, cast off the tender kindliness of her -look, and assumed a cold and icy stateliness; and the duke, inclining -his head to Jean Charost, added, "Leave us now, my young friend. This -afternoon or evening I shall have need of you. Then we will speak -further; so be not far off." - -Jean Charost bowed and retired; and, turning to the maître d'hôtel, -the duke said, in a low voice, "Set Blaize, or some one you can trust, -to watch that young man. There have been high words between him and -Juvenel de Royans. See that nothing comes of it. If you remark any -thing suspicious, confine De Royans to his chamber, and set a guard." - -"Does your highness mean De Royans alone or both?" asked Lomelini, -softly. - -"De Royans," answered the duke, sharply. "The one in fault, sir--the -one always in fault. See my orders in train of execution, and then -return." - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - - -All great events are made up of small incidents. The world is composed -of atoms, and so is Fate. A man pulling a small bit of iron under a -gun performs an act, abstractedly of not much greater importance than -a lady when she pins her dress; but let this small incident be -combined with three other facts: that of there being a cartridge in -the gun; that of twenty thousand men all pulling their triggers at the -same moment; that of there being twenty thousand men opposite, and you -have the glorious event of a great battle, with its long sequence of -misery and joy, glory and shame, affecting the world, perhaps, to the -end of time. - -Two little incidents occurred at the château of Beauté during the day, -the commencement of which we have just noticed, not apparently very -much worthy of remark, but which, nevertheless, must be noted down in -this very accurate piece of chronology. The first was the arrival of a -courier, whose face Jean Charost knew, though it was some time before -he could fix it to the neck and shoulders of a man whom he had seen at -Pithiviers, not in the colors of the house of Burgundy, but in those -of fair Madame de Giac. The letter he bore was addressed to the Duke -of Orleans, and it evidently troubled him--threw him into a fit of -musing--occupied his thoughts for some moments--and made the duchess -somewhat anxious lest evil news had reached her lord. - -He did not tell her the contents of the note, however, nor return any -answer at the time, but sent the man away with largesse, saying he -would write. - -The next incident was another arrival, that of a party of three or -four gentlemen from Paris who were invited to stay at the château of -Beauté that night, and who supped with the duke and duchess in the -great hall. The duke's face was exceedingly cheerful, and his health -was evidently-improved since the morning, when some secret cause -seemed to have moved and depressed him a great deal. - -The conversation principally turned upon the events which had lately -taken place in Paris. They were generally of little moment; but one -piece of intelligence the strangers brought was evidently, to the duke -at least, of greater importance than the rest. The guests reported -confidently that the unhappy king, Charles the Sixth, had shown -decided symptoms of one of those periodical returns to reason which -checkered with occasional bright gleams his dark and melancholy -career. The duke seemed greatly pleased, mused upon the tidings, -questioned his informant closely, but uttered not his own thoughts, -whatever they might be, and retired to rest at an early hour. - -During the whole of that day, without absenting himself for any length -of time from his own apartments, Jean Charost wandered a good deal -about the castle, and, to say sooth, looked somewhat impatiently for -Juvenel de Royans in every place where he was likely to be met with. -He did not find him any where, however; and, on asking Signor Lomelini -where he should find the young gentleman, he was informed, dryly, that -Monsieur De Royans was particularly engaged in some affairs of the -duke's, and would not like to be disturbed. - -The evening passed somewhat dully for Jean Charost, for he confined -himself almost altogether to his own apartments, expecting every -moment that the prince would send for him; but in this he was -disappointed. He did not venture to retire to rest till nearly -midnight; but then he slept as soundly as in life's happiest days; and -he was only awakened in the morning by the sound of a trumpet, -announcing, as he rightly judged, the departure of the preceding -evening's guests. - -He was dressing himself slowly and quietly, when Martin Grille bustled -into the room, exclaiming, "Quick, sir, quick! or you will have no -breakfast. Have you not heard the news? The duke sets out in half an -hour for Paris, and you will be wanted, of course. Half the household -stays here with the duchess. We go with twenty lances and the lay -brethren, of which class--praised be God for all things!--you and I -may consider ourselves." - -"I have had no commands," replied Jean Charost; "but I will be ready, -at all events." - -Not many minutes elapsed, however, ere a notification reached him that -he would be required to accompany the prince to the capital. All speed -was made, and breakfast hastily eaten; but haste was unnecessary, for -an hour or two elapsed before the cavalcade set out, and it did not -reach Paris till toward the close of the day. The duke looked -fatigued; and, as he dismounted in the court-yard of his hotel, he -called Lomelini to him, saying, "Let me have some refreshment in my -own chamber, Lomelini. Send to the prior of the Celestins, saying that -I wish to see him to-morrow at noon. There will be a banquet, too, at -night. Twelve persons will be invited, of high degree. De Brecy, I -have something to say to you." - -He then walked on up the steps into the house, Jean Charost following -close; and after a moment or two, he turned, saying in a low voice, -"Come to me as the clock strikes nine--come privately--by the -toilet-chamber door. Enter at once, without knocking." - -Several of the other attendants were following at some distance; but -the duke spoke almost in a whisper, and his words were not heard. Jean -Charost bowed, and fell back; but Lomelini, who had now become -exceedingly affectionate again to the young secretary, said in his -ear, "Come and sup in my room in half an hour. They will fare but ill -in the hall to-night; for nothing is prepared here; but we will -contrive to do better." - -A few minutes afterward, the duke having been conducted to his chamber -door, the attendants separated, and Jean Charost betook himself to his -own rooms, where Martin Grille was already busily engaged in arranging -his apparel in the large fixed coffers with which each chamber was -furnished. There was a sort of nervous anxiety in the good man's -manner, which struck his master the moment he entered; but laying his -sword on the table, and seating himself by it, Jean Charost fell into -a quiet, and somewhat pleasing fit of musing, just sufficiently awake -to external things to remark that ever and anon Martin stopped his -work and gave a quick glance at his face. At length the young -gentleman rose, made some change in his apparel, removed the traces of -travel from his person, and buckled on his sword again. - -"Pray, sit," said Martin Grille, in a tone of fear and trepidation. -"pray, sir, don't go through the little hall; for that boisterous, -good-for-nothing bully, Juvenel de Royans, is there all alone, -watching for you, I am sure. He was freed from his arrest this -morning, and he would have fallen upon you on the road, I dare say, if -there had not been so many persons round." - -"His arrest?" said Jean Charost. "How came he in arrest?" - -"On account of his quarrel with you yesterday morning. Monsieur De -Brecy," replied Martin Grille. "Did you not know it? All the household -heard of it." - -"I have been deceived," answered Jean Charost. "Signor Lomelini told -me he was engaged when I inquired for him. But you are mistaken, -Martin: a few sharp words do not make exactly a quarrel, and there was -no need of placing De Royans under arrest. It was a very useless -precaution; so much so, indeed, that I think you must be mistaken. He -must have given some offense to the duke: he gave none to me that -could not easily be settled." - -He then paused for a moment or two in thought, and added, "Wait here -till I return, and if De Royans should come, tell him I am supping -with Signor Lomelini, but will be back soon. Do as I order you, and -make no remonstrance, if you please." - -Thus saying, he left the room, and bent his steps at once toward -the little hall, leaving at some distance on the right the great -dining-hall, from which loud sounds of merriment were breaking forth. -He hardly expected to find Juvenel de Royans still in the place where -Martin Grille had seen him; for the sound of gay voices was ever ready -to lead him away. On opening the door, however, the faint light in the -room showed him a figure at the other end, beyond the table, moodily -pacing to and fro from one side of the room to the other; and Jean -Charost needed no second glance to tell him who it was. He advanced -directly toward him, taking a diagonal line across the hall, so that -De Royans could not suppose he was merely passing through. - -The young man instantly halted, and faced him; but Jean Charost spoke -first, saying, "My varlet told me, Monsieur De Royans, that you were -here alone, and as I could not find you yesterday, when I sought for -you, I am glad of the opportunity of speaking a few words with you." - -"Sought for me!" cried De Royans. "Methinks no one ought to have known -better where I was than yourself." - -"You are mistaken," replied Jean Charost. "I asked Signor Lomelini -where I could find you, and he told me you would be occupied all day -in some business of the duke's." - -"The lying old pander!" exclaimed De Royans, bitterly. "But our -business may be soon settled, De Brecy. If you are inclined to risk a -thrust here, I am ready for you. No place makes any difference in my -eyes." - -"In mine it does," replied Jean Charost, very quietly. - -"You are not a coward, I suppose," cried the young man, impetuously. - -"I believe not," replied Jean Charost; "and there are few things that -I should be less afraid of than risking a thrust with you, Monsieur de -Royans, in any proper place and circumstances. Here, in a royal house, -you ought to be well aware we should subject ourselves, by broiling, -to disgraceful punishment, and we can well afford to wait for a more -fitting opportunity, which I will not fail to give you, if you desire -it." - -"Of course I do," replied Juvenel de Royans. - -"I do not see the of course," replied Jean Charost. "I have never -injured you in any thing, never insulted you in any way, have borne, -perhaps too patiently, injury and insult from you, and have certainly -the most cause to complain." - -"Well, I am ready to satisfy you," exclaimed De Royans, with a laugh, -"on horseback or on foot, with lance and shield, or sword and dagger. -Do not let us spoil a good quarrel with silly explanations. We are -both of one mind, it seems; let us settle preliminaries at once." - -"I have not time to settle all preliminaries now," replied Jean -Charost; "for I am expected in another place; but so far we can -arrange our plan. The day after to-morrow I will ask the duke's -permission to go for three days to Mantes. I will return at once to -Meudon. You can easily get out of Paris for an hour or two, and join -me there at the _auberge_. Then a ten minutes' walk will place us -where we can settle our dispute without risk to the survivor." - -"On my life, this is gallant!" cried De Royans, with a considerable -change of expression. "You are a lad of spirit after all, De Brecy." - -"You have insulted my father's memory by supposing otherwise," replied -Jean Charost. "But do not let us add bitterness to our quarrel. We -understand each other. Whenever you hear I am gone to Mantes, remember -you will find me the next day at Meudon--and so good-night." - -Thus saying, he left him, and hurried to the eating-room of Lomelini, -who would fain have extracted from him what the duke had said to him -as they passed into the house; but Jean Charost was upon his guard, -and, as soon as supper was over, returned to his own chamber. - -Martin Grille, though he had quick eyes, could discover no trace of -emotion on his young master's countenance; and desperately tired of -his solitary watch, he gladly received his dismissal for the night. A -few minutes after, Jean Charost issued from his room again, and walked -with a silent step to the door of the duke's toilet-chamber. No -attendants were in waiting, as was usual, and following the directions -he had received, he opened the door and entered. He was surprised to -find the prince dressed in mantle and hood, as if ready to go out; but -upon the table before him was lying a perfumed note, open, and another -fastened, with rose-colored silk, and sealed. - -"Welcome, De Brecy," said the duke, with a gay and smiling air; "I -wish you to render me a service, my friend. You must take this note -for me to-night to the house of Madame De Giac, give it into her own -hand, hear what she says, and bring me her answer. I shall be at the -queen's palace, near the Porte Barbette." - -The blood rushed up into Jean Charost's face, covering it over with a -woman-like blush. It was the most painful moment he had ever as yet -experienced in existence. His mind instantly rushed to a conclusion -from premises that he could hardly define to his own mind, much less -explain to the Duke of Orleans. He fancied himself employed in the -basest of services--used for the most disgraceful of purposes; and yet -nothing had been said which could justify him in refusing to obey. -Whether he would or not, however, and before he could consider, the -words "Oh, sir!" burst from his lips, and his face spoke the rest -plainly enough. - -The Duke of Orleans gazed at him with a frowning brow and a flashing -eye, and then demanded, in a loud, stern tone, "What is it you mean, -sir?" - -Jean Charost was silent for an instant, and then replied, with painful -embarrassment, "I hardly know what I mean, your highness--I may be -wrong, and doubtless am wrong--but I feared that the errand on which -your highness sends me might be one unbecoming me to execute, and -which your highness might afterward regret to have given." He had gone -the step too far, so dangerous with the spoiled children of fortune. - -The anger of the duke was excessive. He spoke loud and sharply, -reproached his young secretary for presuming upon his kindness and -condescension, and reproved him in no very measured terms for daring -to intermeddle with his affairs; and Jean Charost, feeling at his -heart that he had most assuredly exceeded, perhaps, the bounds of due -respect, had come to conclusions for which there was no apparent -foundation, and had suffered his suspicions to display themselves -offensively, stood completely cowed before the prince. When the duke -at length stopped, he answered, in a tone of sincere grief, "I feel -that I have erred, sir, greatly erred, and that I should have obeyed -your commands without even presuming to judge of them. Pray remember, -however, that I am very young, perhaps too young for the important -post I fill. If your highness dismisses me from your service, I can -not be surprised; but believe me, sir, wherever I go, I shall carry -with me the same feelings of gratitude and affection which had no -small share in prompting the very conduct which has given you just -offense." - -"Affection and gratitude!" said the duke, still in an angry tone. -"What can affection and gratitude have to do with disobedience to my -commands, and impertinent intrusion into my affairs?" - -"They might, sir," answered Jean Charost; "for your highness -communicated to me at a former time some regrets, and I witnessed the -happiness and calm of mind which followed the noble impulses that -prompted them. Gratitude and affection, then, made me grieve to think -that this very letter which I hold in my hand might give cause to -fresh regrets, or perhaps to serious perils; for I am bound to say -that I doubt this lady; that I doubt her affection or friendship for -your highness; that I am sure she is linked most closely to your -enemies." - -"You should not have judged of my acts at all," replied the Duke of -Orleans. "What I do not communicate to you, you have no business to -investigate. Your judgment of the lady may be right or wrong; but in -your judgment of my conduct you are altogether wrong. There is nothing -in that note which I ever can regret, and, could you see its contents, -you would learn at once the danger and presumption of intruding into -what does not concern you. To give you the lesson, I must not -sacrifice my dignity; and though, in consideration of your youth, your -inexperience, and your good intentions, I will overlook your error in -the present instance, remember it must not be repeated." - -Jean Charost moved toward the door, while the duke remained in -thought; but, before he reached it, the prince's voice was heard, -exclaiming, in a more placable tone, "De Brecy, De Brecy, do you know -the way?" - -"As little in this case as in the last," replied Jean Charost, with a -faint smile. - -"Come hither, come hither, poor youth," cried the duke, holding out -his hand to him good-humoredly. "There; think no more of it. All young -men will be fools now and then. Now go and get a horse. You will find -my mule saddled in the court. Wait there till I come. I am going to -visit my fair sister, the queen, who is ill at the Hôtel Barbette, and -we pass not far from the place to which you are going. I will direct -you, so that you can not mistake." - -Jean Charost hurried away, and was ready in a few minutes. In the -court he found a cream-colored mule richly caparisoned, and two horses -saddled, with a few attendants on foot around; but the duke had not -yet appeared. When he did come, four of the party mounted, and rode -slowly on through the moonlight streets of Paris, which were now -silent, and almost deserted. After going about half a mile, the duke -reined in his mule, and pointing down another street which branched -off on the right, directed Jean Charost to follow it, and take the -second turning on the left. "The first hotel," he added, "on the right -is the house you want. Then return to this street, follow it out to -the end, and you will see the Hôtel Barbette before you. Bring me -thither an account of your reception." - -His tone was grave, and even melancholy; and Jean Charost merely bowed -his head in silence. He gave one glance at the duke's face, from which -all trace of anger had passed away, and then they parted--never to -meet again. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - - -Standing in the street, at the door of the house to which he had been -directed, Jean Charost found a common-looking man, whose rank or -station was hardly to be divined by his dress; and drawing up his -horse beside him, he asked if Madame De Giac lived there. - -"She is here," replied the man. "What do you want with her?" - -"I have a letter to deliver to her," answered lean Charost, briefly. - -"Give it to me," replied the man. - -"That can not be," answered the young secretary. "It must be -delivered by me into her own hand." - -"Who is it from?" inquired the other. "She does not see strangers at -this hour of the night." - -The young secretary was somewhat puzzled what to reply, for a -lingering suspicion made him unwilling to give the name of the duke; -but he had not been told to conceal it, and seeing no other way of -obtaining admission, he answered, after a moment's consideration, "It -is from his highness of Orleans, and I must beg you to use dispatch." - -"I will see if she will admit you," replied the man; "but come into -the court, at all events. You will soon have your answer." - -Thus saying, he opened the large wooden gates of the yard, and, as -soon as Jean Charost had entered, closed and fastened them securely. -There was a certain degree of secrecy and mystery about the whole -proceeding, a want of that bustle and parade common in great houses in -Paris, which confirmed the preconceived suspicions of Jean Charost, -and made him believe that a woman of gallantry was waiting for the -visit of a prince whose devotion to her sex was but too well known. -Dismounting, he stood by his horse's side, while the man quietly -glided through a door, hardly perceivable in the obscurity of one dark -corner in the court-yard. The moon had already sunk low, and the tall -houses round shadowed the whole of the open space in which the young -secretary stood, so that he could but little see the aspect of the -place, although he had ample time for observation. - -Nearly ten minutes elapsed before the messenger's return; but then he -came, attended by a page bearing a flambeau, and, in civil terms, -desired the young gentleman to follow him to his mistress's presence. - -Through ways as narrow and as crooked as the ways of love usually are, -Jean Charost was conducted to a small room, which would nowadays -probably be called a boudoir, where, even without the contrast of the -poor, naked stone passages through which he had passed, every thing -would have appeared luxurious and splendid in the highest degree. -Rumor attributed to the beautiful lady whom he went to visit, a -princely lover, who some years before had commanded an army against -the Ottomans, had received a defeat which rendered him morose and -harsh throughout the rest of life, but had acquired, during an easy -captivity among the Mussulmans, a taste for Oriental luxury, which -never abandoned him. All within the chamber to which Jean Charost was -now introduced spoke that the lady had not been uninfluenced by her -lover's habits. Articles of furniture little known in France were seen -in various parts of the room; piles of cushions, carpets of -innumerable dyes, and low sofas or ottomans; while, even in the midst -of winter, the odor of roses pervaded the whole apartment. Madame de -Giac herself, negligently dressed, but looking wonderfully beautiful, -was reclining on cushions, with a light on a low table by her side, -and, on the approach of Jean Charost, she received him more as an old -and dear friend than a mere accidental acquaintance. A radiant smile -was upon her lips; she made him sit down beside her, and in her tone -there was a blandishing softness, which he felt was very engaging. For -a minute or two she held the letter of the Duke of Orleans unopened in -her hand, while she asked him questions about his journey from -Pithiviers to Blois, and his return. At length, however, she opened -the billet and read it, not so little observed as she imagined -herself; for Jean Charost's eyes were fixed upon her, marking the -various expressions of her countenance. At first, her glance at the -note was careless; but speedily her eyes fixed upon the lines with an -intense, eager look. Her brow contracted, her nostril expanded, her -beautiful upper lip quivered, and that fair face for an instant took -upon it the look of a demon. Suddenly, however, she recollected -herself, smoothed her brow, recalled the wandering lightning of her -eyes and folding the note, she curled it between her fingers, saying, -"I must write an answer, my dear young friend. I will not be long; -wait for me here;" and rising gracefully, she gathered her flowing -drapery around her, and passed out by a door behind the cushions. - -The door was closed carefully; but Jean Charost had good reason to -believe that the time of Madame De Giac was occupied in other -employment than writing. A murmur of voices was heard, in which her -own sweet tones mingled with others harsher and louder. The words used -could not be distinguished, but the conversation seemed eager and -animated, beginning the moment she entered, and rising and falling in -loudness, as if the speakers were sometimes carried away by the topic, -sometimes fearful of being overheard. - -Jean Charost was no great casuist, and certainly, in all ordinary -cases, he would have felt ashamed to listen to any conversation not -intended for his ears. Neither, on this occasion, did he actually -listen. He moved not from his seat; he even took up and examined a -beautiful golden-sheathed poniard with a jeweled hilt, which lay upon -the table where stood the light. But there was a doubt, a suspicion, -an apprehension of he knew not what in his mind, which, if -well-founded, might perhaps have justified him in his own eyes in -actually trying to hear what was passing; for assuredly he would have -thought it no want of honor thus to detect the devices of an enemy. -The voice of Madame De Giac was not easily forgotten by one who had -once heard it; and the rougher, sterner tones that mingled in the -conversation seemed likewise familiar to the young secretary's ear. -Both those who were speaking he believed to be inimical to his royal -master. He heard nothing distinctly, however, but the last few words -that were spoken. - -It would seem that Madame De Giac had approached close to the door, -and laid her hand upon the lock, and the other speaker raised his -voice, adding to some words which were lost, the following, in an -imperative tone, "As long as possible, remember--by any means!" - -Madame De Giac's murmured reply was not intelligible to the young -secretary; but then came a coarse laugh, and the deeper voice -answered, "No, no. I do not mean that; but by force, if need be." - -"Well, then, tell them," said the fair lady; but what was to be told -escaped unheard by Jean Charost; for she dropped her voice lower than -ever, and, a moment after, re-entered the room. - -Her face was all fair and smiling, and before she spoke, she seated -herself again on the cushions, paused thoughtfully, and, looking at -the dagger which the young gentleman replaced as she entered, said -playfully, "Do not jest with edged tools. I hope you did not take the -poniard out of its sheath. It comes from Italy--from the very town of -the sweet Duchess of Orleans; and they tell me that the point is -poisoned, so that the slightest scratch would produce speedy death. It -has never been drawn since I had it, and never shall be with my will." - -"I did not presume to draw it," said Jean Charost. "But may I crave -your answer to his highness's note?" - -"How wonderfully formal we are," said Madame De Giac, with a gay -laugh. "This chivalrous reverence for the fair, which boys are taught -in their school days, is nothing but a sad device of old women and -jealous husbands. It is state, and dress, and grave surroundings, De -Brecy, that makes us divinities. A princess and a page, in a little -cabinet like this, are but a woman and a man. Due propriety, of -course, is right; but forms and reverence all nonsense." - -"Beauty and rank have both their reverence, madam," replied Jean -Charost. "But at the present moment, all other things aside, I am -compelled to think of his highness's business; for he is waiting for -me now at the Hôtel Barbette, expecting anxiously, I doubt not, your -answer." - -The conversation that followed does not require detail. Madame De Giac -was prodigal of blandishments, and, skilled in every female art, -contrived to while away some twenty minutes without giving the young -secretary any reply to bear to his master. - -When at length she found that she could not detain him any longer -without some definite answer, she turned to the subject of the note, -and contrived to waste some more precious time on it. - -"What if I were to send the duke a very angry message?" she said. - -"I should certainly deliver it," replied Jean Charost. "But I would -rather that you wrote it." - -"No, I have changed my mind about that," she answered. "I will not -write. You may tell him I think him a base, ungrateful man, unworthy -of a lady's letter. Will you tell him that?" - -"Precisely, madam; word for word," replied Jean Charost. - -"Then you are bolder with men than women," replied the lady, with a -laugh slightly sarcastic. "Stay, stay; I have not half done yet. Say -to the duke I am of a forgiving nature, and, if he does proper -penance, and comes to sue for pardon, he may perhaps find mercy. -Whither are you going so fast? You can not get out of this enchanted -castle as easily as you think, good youth; at least not without my -consent." - -"I pray, then, give it to me, madam," said Jean Charost; "for I really -fear that his highness will be angry at my long delay." - -"Poor youth! what a frightened thing it is," said the lady. "Well, you -shall go; but let me look at the duke's note again, in case I have any -thing to add;" and she unfolded the billet, which she still held in -her hand, and looked at it by the light. Again Jean Charost marked -that bitter, fiend-like scowl come upon her countenance, and, in this -instance, the feelings that it indicated found some expression in -words. - -"Either you or his priest are making a monk of him," she said, -bitterly; "but it matters not. Tell him what I have said." And -murmuring a few more indistinct words to herself, she rang a small -silver bell which lay upon the cushions beside her, and the man who -had given Jean Charost admission speedily appeared. - -The lady looked at him keenly for an instant, and the young secretary -thought he saw a glance of intelligence pass from his face to hers. - -"Light this young gentleman out," said Madame De Giac. "You are a -young fool, De Brecy," she added, laughingly; "but that is no fault of -yours or mine. Nature made you so, and I can not mend you; and so, -good-night." - -Jean Charost bowed low, and followed the man out of the room; but, as -he did so, he drew his sword-hilt a little forward, not well knowing -what was to come next. Madame De Giac eyed him with a sarcastic smile, -and the door closed upon him. - -The man lighted him silently, carefully along the narrow, tortuous -passage, and down the steep stair-case by which he had entered, -holding the light low, that he might see his way. When they reached -the small door which led into the court, he unbolted it, and held it -back for the young gentleman to go forth; but the moment Jean Charost -had passed out, the door was closed and bolted. - -"Not very courteous," thought Jean Charost. "But doubtless he takes -his tone from his lady's last words. What a dark night it is?" - -For a minute or two, in the sudden obscurity after the light was -withdrawn, he could discern none of the objects around him, and it was -not till his eye had become more accustomed to the darkness that he -discovered his horse standing fastened to a ring let into the -building. He detached him quickly, and led him to the great gates; but -here a difficulty presented itself. The large wooden bar was easily -removed, and the bolts drawn back; but still the gates would not open. -The young gentleman felt them all over in search of another fastening; -but he could find none; and he then turned to a little sort of -guardroom on the right of the entrance, attached to almost all the -large houses of Paris in that day, and transformed, in after and more -peaceable times, into a porter's lodge. All was dark and silent -within, however: the door closed; and no answer was returned when the -young gentleman knocked. He then tried another door, in the middle of -the great façade of the building; but there, also, the door was -locked, and he could make no one hear. His only resource, then, was -the small postern by which he had been admitted; but here also he was -disappointed, and he began to comprehend that he was intentionally -detained. He was naturally the more impatient to escape; and, -abandoning all ceremony, he knocked hard with the hilt of his dagger -on the several doors, trying them in turns. But it was all in vain. -There were things doing which made his importunity of small -consequence. - -With an angry and impatient heart, and a mind wandering through a -world of conjecture, he at length thrust his dagger back into the -sheath, and stood and listened near the great gates, determined, if he -heard a passing step in the street, to call loudly for assistance. All -was still, however, for ten minutes, and then came suddenly a sound of -loud voices and indistinct cries, as if there was a tumult at some -distance. Jean Charost's heart beat quick, though there seemed no -definite link of connection between his own fate and the sounds he -heard. A minute or two after, however, he was startled by a nearer -noise--a rattling and grating sound--and he had just time to draw his -horse away ere the gates opened of their own accord, and rolled back -without any one appearing to move them. A hoarse and unpleasant laugh, -at the same moment, sounded on Jean Charost's ear, and, looking forth -into the street, he saw two or three dark figures running quickly -forward in one direction. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - - -There was in Paris an old irregular street, called the Street of the -Old Temple, which had been built out toward the Porte Barbette at a -period when the capital of France was much smaller in extent than in -the reign of King Charles the Sixth. No order or regularity had been -preserved, although one side of the street had for some distance been -kept in a direct line by an antique wall, built, it is said, by the -voluntary contributions or personal labors of different members of the -famous Order of the Temple, the brethren of which, though professing -poverty, were often more akin to Dives than to Lazarus. The other side -of the street, however, had been filled up by the houses and gardens -of various individuals, each walking in the light of his own eyes, and -using his discretion as to how far his premises should encroach upon, -how far recede from the highway. Thus, when sun or moon was up, and -shining down the street, a number of picturesque shadows crossed it, -offering a curious pattern of light and shade, varying with every -hour. - -A strange custom existed in those days, which has only been -perpetuated, that I know of, in some towns of the Tyrol, of affixing -to each house its own particular sign, which served, as numbers do in -the present day, to distinguish it from all others in the same street. -Sometimes these signs or emblems projected in the form of a banner -from the walls of the house, overhanging the street, and showing the -golden cross, or the silver cross, or the red ball, the lion, the -swan, or the hart, to every one who rode along. Sometimes, with better -taste, but perhaps with less convenience to the passenger in search of -a house he did not know, the emblem chosen by the proprietor was built -into the solid masonry, or placed in a little Gothic niche constructed -for the purpose. The latter was generally the case where angel, or -patron saint, prophet, or holy man was the chosen device, and -especially so when any of the persons of the Holy Trinity, for whom -the Parisians seemed to have more love than reverence, gave a name to -the building. - -Thus, at the corner of the Street of the Old Temple, and another which -led into it, a beautiful and elaborate niche with a baldachin of -fretted stone, and a richly-carved pediment, offered to the eyes of -the passers-by a very-well executed figure of the Virgin, holding in -her arms the infant Savior, and from this image the house on which it -was affixed obtained the name of the _Hôtel de Nôtre Dame_. -Notwithstanding the sanctity of the emblem, and the beauty of the -building--for it was of the finest style of French architecture, then -in its decay--the house had been very little inhabited for some twenty -or thirty years. It had been found too small and incommodious for -modern taste. Men had built themselves larger dwellings, and, although -this had not been suffered to become actually dilapidated, there were -evident traces of neglect about it--casements broken and distorted, -doors and gates on which unforbidden urchins carved grotesque faces -and letters hardly less fantastical, moldings and cornices time-worn -and moldering, and stones gathering lichen and soot with awful -rapidity. - -All was darkness along the front of that house. No torches blazed -before it; no window shot forth a ray; and the sinking moon cast a -black shadow across the street, and half way up the wall on the other -side. - -Nevertheless, in one room of that house there were lamps lighted, and -a blazing fire upon the hearth. Wine, too, was upon the table, rich, -and in abundance; but yet it was hardly tasted; for there were -passions busy in that room, more powerful than wine. It was low in the -ceiling, the walls covered with hangings of leather which had once -been gilt, and painted with various devices but from which all traces -of human handiwork had nearly vanished, leaving nothing but a gloomy, -dark drapery on the wall, which seemed rather to suck in than return -the rays. It was large and well proportioned, however. The great massy -beams which, any one could touch with their hand, were supported by -four stout stone pillars, and the whole light centered in the middle -of the room, leaving a fringe, as it were, of obscurity all round. If -numbers could make any place gay, that room or hall would have been -cheerful enough; for not less than seventeen or eighteen persons were -collected there, and many of them appeared persons of no inferior -degree. Each was more or less armed, and battle-axes, maces, and heavy -swords lay around; but a solemn, gloomy stillness hung upon the whole -party. It was evidently no festal occasion on which they met. The -wine, as I have said, had no charms for them; conversation had as -little. - -One tall powerful man sat before the chimney with his mailed arms -crossed upon his chest, and his eyes fixed upon the flickering blaze -in the fire-place. Another was seated near the table, drawing, with -the end of a straw, wild, fantastic figures on the board with some -wine which had been spilled. Some dull men at a distance nodded, and -others, with their hands upon their brows, and eyes bent down, -remained in heavy thought. - -At length one of them spoke, "Tedious work this," he said. "Action -suits me best. I love not to lie like a spider at the bottom of his -web, waiting till the fly buzzes into his nest. Here we have been five -or six long days, and nothing done. I will not wait longer than -to-morrow's sunrise, whatever you may say, Ralph." - -The other, who was gazing into the fire, turned his head a little, -answering in a gruff tone, "I tell you he is now in Paris. He arrived -this very evening. We shall hear more anon." - -The conversation ceased; for no one else took it up, and each of the -speakers fell into silence again. - -Some quarter of an hour passed, and then the one who was at the table -started and seemed to listen. - -There was certainly a step in the passage without, and the moment -after there was a knock at the door. One of those within advanced, and -inquired who was there. - -"Ich Houde," answered a voice, and immediately the door was unlocked, -and a ponderous bolt withdrawn. - -All eyes were now turned toward the entrance, with a look which I do -not know how to describe, except by saying it was one of fierce -expectation. At first the obscurity at the further side of the room -prevented those who sat near the light from seeing who it was that -entered; but a broad-chested, powerful man, wrapped in a crimson -mantle, with a very large hood thrown back upon his shoulders, and on -his head a plain brown barret cap with a heron's feather in it, -advanced rapidly toward the table, inquiring, "Where is Actonville?" - -His face was deadly pale, and even his lips had lost their color; but -there was no emotion to be discovered by the movement of any feature. -All was stern, and resolute, and keen. - -"Here," said the man who had been sitting by the fire, rising as he -spoke. - -The other advanced close to him, and spoke something in a whisper. -Actonville rejoined in the same low tone; and then the other answered, -louder, "I have provided for all that. Thomas of Courthose will bear -him a message from the king. Be quick; for he will soon be there." - -"How got you the news, sir?" asked Actonville. - -"By the fool, to be sure--by the fool!" replied the other. "It is all -certain; though a fool told it." - -"The moon must be up," said Actonville. "Were it not better to do it -as he returns?" - -"He will have many more with him," answered the man who had just -entered; "and the moon is down." - -"Oh, moon or no moon, many or few," exclaimed the man who had been -sitting at the table, "let us about it at once. Brave men fear no -numbers; and only dogs are scared by the moon." Some more -conversation, brief, sharp, and eager, sometimes in whispers, -sometimes aloud, occupied a space, perhaps, of three minutes, and then -all was the bustle of preparation. Swords, axes, maces were taken up, -and a few inquiries were made and answered. - -"Are the horses all ready?" asked one. - -"They only want unhooking," replied another. - -"The straw is piled up in both the rooms." said a third. "Shall I fire -it now?" - -"No, no! Are you mad?" replied Actonville "Not till it is done." - -"Then I'll put the lantern ready," replied the other. - -"Where will you be, sir?" asked Actonville. - -"Close at hand," replied the man in the crimson mantle. "But we lose -time. Go out quietly, one by one, and leave the door open. Put out the -lights, William of Courthose. I have a lantern here, under my cloak." - -The lights were immediately extinguished, and, by the flickering of -the fire, eighteen shadowy forms were seen to pass out of the room -like ghosts. Through the long passage from the back to the front of -the house, they went as silently as their arms would permit, and then -gliding down the irregular side of the road, one by one, they -disappeared from their rank to lay in wait in what the prophet calls -"the thievish corners of the streets." - -The man who had last joined them remained alone, standing before the -fire. His arms were crossed upon his chest; a lantern which he had -carried stood on the ground by his side; and his eyes were fixed upon -a log from which a small thin flame, yellow at the base, and blue at -the top, rose up, wavering fitfully. He watched it for some five or -six minutes. Suddenly it leaped up and vanished. - -"Ha!" said that dark, stern man, and turned him to the door. Ere he -reached it, there was a loud outcry from without--a cry of pain and -strife. He paused and trembled. What was in his bosom then? God only -knows. Man never knew. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - - -The gates of the Hôtel Barbette--formerly the Hôtel Montaigne--opened -instantly to the Duke of Orleans, and he was kept but a moment in the -great hall ere the queen gave an order for his admission, although -still suffering from illness. He found the beautiful but vindictive -Isabella in bed; but that formed no objection in those days to the -reception of visitors by a lady of even queenly rank; and, after -having embraced his fair sister-in-law, he sat down by her bedside, -and the room was soon cleared of the attendants. - -"You have received my note, Louis?" she said, laying her hand tenderly -upon his; for there is every reason to believe that the Duke of -Orleans was the only one toward whom she ever entertained any sincere -affection. - -"I did, sweet Isabella," answered the duke; "and I came at once to see -what was your will." - -"How many men brought you with you?" asked the queen. "I hope there is -no fool-hardiness, Orleans?" - -"Oh, in Paris I have plenty," replied the duke; "hard upon five -hundred. The rest I left with Valentine at Beauté, for she is going to -Château Thierry to gather all her children together. But if you mean -how many I have brought hither to-night, good faith! Isabella, not -many--two men on horseback, and half a dozen on foot." - -"Imprudent man!" exclaimed the queen. "Do you not know that Burgundy -is here?" - -"Oh yes," answered the Duke of Orleans. "He supped with me this night, -quite in a tranquil way." - -"Be not deceived--be not deceived, Louis of Orleans," answered the -queen. "Who can feign friendship and mean enmity so well as John of -Burgundy? And I tell you that, to my certain knowledge, he is -caballing against you even now. Your life is never safe when you are -near him unless you be surrounded by your men-at-arms." - -"Well, then, we do not play an equal game," replied the duke; "for his -life is as safe with me as with his dearest friend." - -"Did he know that you were coming hither?" asked the queen, with an -anxious look. - -"Assuredly," replied the duke; but then he added, with a gay laugh, -"He suspected, I fancy, from his questions, that I was going elsewhere -first, though I told him I was not." - -"Where--where?" demanded the queen. - -"To Madame De Giac's," replied the Duke of Orleans, with a look of -arch meaning. - -"The serpent!" muttered Isabella. "And you have not been?" - -"Assuredly not," replied her brother-in-law. "Then he knows you have -come here," said Isabella, thoughtfully; "and the way back will be -dangerous. You shall not go, Orleans, till you have sent for a better -escort." - -"Well, kind sister, if it will give you ease, it shall be done," -replied the duke. "I will tell one of my men to bring me a party of -horse from the hotel." - -"Let it be large enough," said the queen, emphatically. - -The duke smiled, and left the room in search of his attendants; but -neither of his two squires could be found. Heaven knows where they -were, or what they were doing; but the queen had a court of very -pretty ladies at the Hôtel Barbette, who were not scrupulous of -granting their conversation to gay young gentlemen. A young German -page, fair-haired and gentle, lolled languidly on a settle in the -great hall, but he knew little of Paris, and the Duke of Orleans sent -for one of his footmen, and ordered him to take one of the squires' -horses, return to the Hôtel d'Orleans, and bring up twenty lances with -in an hour. He then went back to the chamber of the queen, and sat -conversing with her for about ten minutes, when they were interrupted' -by the entrance of one of her ladies, who brought intelligence that a -messenger from the Hôtel St Pol had arrived, demanding instant -audience of the duke. - -"Who is he?" asked Isabella, gazing at the lady, her suspicions -evidently all awake. "How did they know at the Hôtel St. Pol that his -highness was here?" - -"It is Thomas of Courthose, your majesty," replied the lady; "and he -says he has been at the Hôtel d'Orleans, whence he was sent hither." - -"By your good leave, then, fair sister, we will admit him," said the -duke; and in a minute or two after Thomas of Courthose, one of the -immediate attendants of the king, was ushered into the room. He was -not a man of pleasing aspect: black-haired, down-looked, and with the -eyes so close together as to give almost the appearance of a squint; -but both the duke and the queen knew him well, and suspicion was -lulled to sleep. - -Approaching the Duke of Orleans, with a lowly reverence, first to the -queen and then to him, the man said, "I have been commanded by his -royal majesty to inform your highness that he wishes to see you -instantly, on business which touches nearly both you and himself." - -"I will obey at once," replied the duke. "Tell my people, as you pass, -to get ready. I will be in the court in five minutes." - -"Stay, Orleans, stay!" cried the queen, as the man quitted the room. -"You had better wait for your escort, dear brother." - -The duke only laughed at her fears, however, representing that his -duty to the king called for his immediate obedience, and adding, "I -shall go safer by that road than any other. They know that I came -hither late, and will conclude that I shall return by the same way. If -Burgundy intends to play me any scurvy trick--arrest, imprison, or -otherwise maltreat me--he will post his horsemen in that direction, -and by going round I shall avoid them. Nay, nay, Isabella, example of -disobedience to my king shall never be set by Louis of Orleans." - -The queen saw him depart with a sigh, but the duke descended to the -court without fear, and spoke gayly to his attendants, whom he found -assembled. - -"We do not know what to do, sir," said one of the squires, stepping -forward. "Leonard has taken away one of the horses, and now there is -but one beast to two squires." - -"Let his master mount him, and the other jump up behind," said the -duke, laughing. "Did you never see two men upon one horse?" - -In the mean while his own mule was brought forward, and, setting his -foot in the stirrup, the duke seated himself somewhat slowly. Then, -looking up to the sky, he said, "The moon is down, and it has become -marvelous dark. If you have torches, light them." - -About two minutes were spent in lighting the torches, and then the -gates of the Hôtel Barbette were thrown open. The two squires on one -horse went first, and the duke on his mule came after, the German page -following close, with his hand resting on the embossed crupper, while -two men, with torches lighted, walked on either side. The porter at -the gates looked after them for a moment as they took their way down -the Street of the Old Temple, and then drew to the heavy leaves, and -barred the gates for the night. - -All was still and silent in the street, and the little procession -walked on at a slow pace for some two hundred yards. The torch-light -then seemed to flash upon some object suddenly, which the horse -bearing the two squires had not before seen, for the beast started, -plunged, and then dashed violently forward down the street, nearly -throwing the hindmost horseman to the ground. The duke spurred forward -his mule somewhat sharply, but he had not gone a dozen yards when an -armed man darted out from behind the dark angle of the neighboring -house. Another rushed out almost at the same moment from one of the -deep, arched gateways of the time, and a number more were seen -hurrying up, with the torch-light flashing upon cuirasses, -battle-axes, and maces. Two of the light-bearers cast down their -torches and fled; a third was knocked down by the rush of men coming -up; and at the same moment a strong, armed hand was laid upon the Duke -of Orleans's rein. - -The dauntless prince spurred on his mule against the man who held it, -without attempting to turn its head; and it would seem that he still -doubted that he was the real object of attack, for while the assassin -shouted loudly, "Kill him--kill him!" he raised his voice loud above -the rest, exclaiming, "How now; I am the Duke of Orleans!" - -"'Tis him we want," cried a deep voice close by; and as the duke put -his hand to the hilt of his sword, a tremendous blow of an ax fell -upon his wrist, cutting through muscle, and sinew, and bone. The next -instant he was struck heavily on the head with a mace, and hurled -backward from the saddle. But even then there was one found faithful. -The young German boy who followed cast himself instantly upon the body -of his lord, to shield him from the blows that were falling thick upon -him. But it was all in vain. The battle-ax and the mace terminated the -poor lad's existence in a moment; his body was dragged from that of -the prostrate prince; and a blow with a spiked iron club dashed to -pieces the skull of the gay and gallant Louis of Orleans. - -Shouts and cries of various kinds had mingled with the fray, but after -that last blow fell there came a sudden silence. Three of the torches -were extinguished; the bearers were fled. One faint light only -flickered on the ground, throwing a red and fitful glare upon the -bloody bodies of the dead, and the grim, fierce countenances of the -murderers. - -In the midst of that silence, a man in a crimson mantle and hood came -quickly forward, bearing a lantern in his hand. - -The assassins showed no apprehension of his presence, and holding the -light to the face of the dead man, he gazed on him for an instant with -a stern, hard, unchanged expression, and then said, "It is he!" - -Perhaps some convulsive movement crossed the features from which real -life had already passed away, for that stern, gloomy man snatched a -mace from the hand of one standing near, and struck another heavy blow -upon the head of the corpse, saying, "Out with the last spark!" - -There were some eight or ten persons immediately round the spot where -the prince had fallen; but others were scattered at a little distance -up and down the street. Suddenly a voice cried, "Hark!" and the sound -of a horse's feet was heard trotting quick. - -"Away!" cried the man in the red mantle. "Fire the house, and -disperse. You know your roads. Away!" - -Then came a distant cry, as if from the gates of the queen's palace, -of "Help! help! Murder! murder!" but, the next moment, it was almost -drowned in a shout of "Fire! fire!" Dark volumes of smoke began to -issue from the windows of the Hôtel Nôtre Dame, and flashes of flame -broke forth upon the street, while a torrent of sparks rushed upward -into the air. All around the scene of the murder became enveloped in -vapor and obscurity, with the red light tinging the thick, heavy -wreaths of smoke, and serving just to show figures come and go, still -increasing in number, and gathering round the fatal spot in a small, -agitated crowd. But the actors in the tragedy had disappeared. Now -here, now there, one or another might have been seen crossing the -bloody-looking haze of the air, and making for some of the various -streets that led away from the place of the slaughter, till at length -all were gone, and nothing but horrified spectators of their bloody -handiwork remained. - -Few, if any, remained to look at the burning house, and none attempted -to extinguish the flames; for the cry had already gone abroad that the -Duke of Orleans was murdered, and the multitude hurried forward to the -place where he lay. Those who did stop for an instant before the Hôtel -Nôtre Dame, remarked a quantity of lighted straw borne out from the -doors and windows by the rush of the fire, and some of them heard the -quick sound of hoofs at a little distance, as if a small party of -horse had galloped away from the back of the building. - -Few thought it needful, however, to inquire for or pursue the -murderers. A sort of stupor seemed to have seized all but one of those -who arrived the first. He was a poor mechanic; and, seeing an armed -man, with a mace in his hand, glide across the street, he followed him -with a quick step, traced him through several streets, paused in fear -when the other paused, turned when he turned, and dogged him till he -entered the gates of the Hôtel d'Artois, the residence of the Duke of -Burgundy. - -In the mean while, the body of the unhappy prince, and that of the -poor page who had sacrificed his life for him, were carried into a -church hard by. The news spread like lightning through the whole town; -neighbor told it to neighbor; many were roused from their sleep to -hear the tidings, and agitation and tumult spread through Paris. Every -sort of vague alarm, every sort of wild rumor was received and -encouraged. - -The Queen Isabella of Bavaria, horrified and apprehensive, caused -herself to be placed in a litter, and carried to the Hôtel St. Pol. A -number of loyal noblemen, believing the king's own life in danger, -armed themselves and their followers, and turned the court of the -palace into a fortress. But the followers of the deceased duke -remained for some hours almost stupefied with terror, and only -recovered themselves to give way to rage and indignation, which -produced many a disastrous consequence in after days. In the mean -time, the church of the White Friars was not deserted. The brethren -themselves gathered around the dead bodies, and, with tapers lighted, -and the solemn organ playing, chanted all night the services of the -dead. High nobles and princes, too, flocked into the church with heavy -hearts and agitated minds. The Duke of Bourbon and the venerable Duke -of Berri were the first. Then came the King of Navarre, then the Duke -of Burgundy, and then the King of Sicily, who had arrived in Paris -only on the preceding morning. - -All were profuse of lamentations, and of execrations against the -murderers; but none more so than the Duke of Burgundy, who declared -that "never, in the city of Paris, had been perpetrated so horrible -and sad a murder."[2] He could even weep, too; but while the words -were on his lips, and the tears were in his eyes, some one pulled him -by the cloak, and turning round his head, he saw one of his most -familiar servants. Nothing was said; but there was a look in the man's -eyes which demanded attention, and, after a moment or two, the duke -retired with him into the chapel of St. William. - -"They have taken one of those suspected of conniving at the murder," -whispered the man. - -"Which? Who--who is he?" asked the duke, eagerly. - -"No one your highness knows," replied the man, gazing in the duke's -face, though the chapel was very dark. "He is a young gentleman, said -to be the duke's secretary, Monsieur Charost de Brecy." - -The duke stamped with his foot upon the ground, saying, with an oath, -"That may ruin all. See that he be freed as soon as possible, before -he is examined." - -"It can not be done, I fear," rejoined the man, in the same low tone. -"He is in the hands of William de Tignonville, the _prévôt_. But can -not the murder be cast on him, sir? They say he and the duke were -heard disputing loud this night; and that, on the way to the Hôtel -Barbette, he suddenly turned and rode away from his royal master." - -"Folly and nonsense!" said the duke, impatiently; and then he fell -into a fit of thought, adding, in a musing tone, "This must be -provided for. But not so--not so. Well, we will see. Leave him where -he is. He must be taught silence, if he would have safety." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - - -We must now once more follow the course of Jean Charost. It has been -said that when the gates of the house of Madame De Giac (by a -contrivance very common at that time in Paris for saving the trouble -of the porter and the time of the visitor, but with which he was -unacquainted) rolled back on their hinges, without the visible -intervention of any human being, he saw several persons running up the -street in the direction which he himself intended to take. Man has -usually a propensity to hurry in the same course as others, and, -springing on his horse's back, Jean Charost spurred on somewhat more -quickly than he might have done had he seen no one running. As he -advanced, he saw, in the direction of the Porte Barbette, a lurid -glare beginning to rise above the houses, and glimmering upon large -rolling volumes of heavy smoke The next instant, loud voices, -shouting, reached his ear; but with the cries of fire he fancied there -were mingled cries of murder. On up the street he dashed, and soon -found himself at the corner of the Street of the Old Temple; but he -could make nothing of the scene before his eyes. The house in front -was on fire in various places, and would evidently soon be totally -destroyed; but though there were a number of people in the street, -running hither and thither in wild disorder, few stopped before the -burning building even for a single moment, and most hurried past at -once to a spot somewhat further down the street. - -All who had collected as yet were on foot though he could see a horse -further up toward the city gate; but while he was looking round him -with some wonder, and hesitating whether he should first go on to -inquire what was the matter where the principal crowd was collected, -or ride at once to the Hôtel Barbette, a man in the royal liveries, -with a halbert in his hand, crossed and looked hard at him. Suddenly -another came running up the street, completely armed except the head, -which was bare. The man with the halbert instantly stopped the other, -apparently asking some question, and Jean Charost saw the armed man -point toward him, exclaiming, "He must be one of them--he must be one -of them." The next moment they both seized his bridle together; but -they did not both retain their hold very long; for while he of the -halbert demanded his name and business there, threatening to knock his -brains out if he did not answer instantly, the armed man slipped by on -the other side of the horse, turned round the corner of the street, -and was lost to sight. - -Jean Charost's name and business were soon explained; but still the -man kept hold of his bridle. Two or three persons gathered round; and -all apparently conceded that a great feat had been accomplished in -making a prisoner, although there was no suspicious circumstance about -him, except his being mounted on horseback, when all the rest were on -foot. They continued to discuss what was to be done with him, till a -large body of people came rushing down from the Hôtel Barbette, among -whom the young secretary recognized one of the squires and two of the -lackeys of the Duke of Orleans. To them Jean Charost instantly called, -saying, "There is something amiss here. Pray explain to these men who -I am; for they are stopping me without cause, and I can not proceed to -join his highness." - -"Why did you leave him so suddenly an hour ago?" cried the young -squire, in a sharp tone. "You came with us from the Hôtel d'Orleans, -and disappeared on the way. You had better keep him, my friends, till -this bloody deed is inquired into." - -Then turning to Jean Charost again, he added, "Do you not know that -the duke has been foully murdered?" - -The intelligence fell upon the young man's ear like thunder. He sat -motionless and speechless on his horse, while the party from the Hôtel -Barbette passed on; and he only woke from the state of stupefaction -into which he was cast, to find his horse being led by two or three -persons through the dark and narrow streets of Paris, whither he knew -not. His first distinct thoughts, however, were of the duke rather -than himself, and he inquired eagerly of his captors where and how the -horrible deed had been perpetrated. - -They were wise people, and exceedingly sapient in their own conceit, -however. The queen's servant laughed with a sneer, saying, "No, no. We -won't tell you any thing to prepare you for your examination before -the _prévôt_. He will ask you questions, and then you answer him, -otherwise he will find means to make you. We are not here to reply to -your interrogatories." - -The sapient functionary listened to no remonstrances, and finding his -efforts vain, Jean Charost rode on in silence, sometimes tempted, -indeed, to draw his sword, which had not yet been taken from him, and -run the man with the halbert through the body; but he resisted the -temptation. - -At length, emerging from a narrow street, they came into a little -square, on the opposite side of which rose a tall and gloomy building, -without any windows apparent on the outside, except in the upper -stories of two large towers, flanking a low dark archway. All was -still and silent in the square; no light shone from the windows of -that gloomy building; but straight toward the great gate they went, -and one of the men rang a bell which hung against the tower. A loud, -ferocious barking of dogs was immediately heard; but in an instant the -gates were opened by a broad-shouldered, bow-legged man, who looked -gloomily at the visitors, but said nothing; and the horse of Jean -Charost was led in, while the porter drove back four savage dogs -(which would fain have sprang at the prisoner); and instantly closed -the gates. The archway in which the party now stood extended some -thirty feet through the heavy walls, and at the other end appeared a -second gate, exactly like the first; but the porter made no movement -to open it, nor asked any questions, but suffered the queen's servant -to go forward and ring another bell. That gate was opened, but not so -speedily as the other, and a man holding a lantern appeared behind, -with another personage at his side, dressed in a striped habit of -various colors, which made Jean Charost almost believe that they had a -buffoon even there. From the first words of the queen's servant, -however, he learned that this was the jailer, and his face itself, -hard, stern, and bitter, was almost an announcement of his office. - -Nevertheless, he made some difficulty at first in regard to receiving -a prisoner from hands unauthorized; but at length he consented to -detain the young secretary till he could be interrogated by the -_prévôt_. The captors then retired, and the jailers made their captive -dismount and enter a small room near, where sat a man in black, -writing. His name, his station, his occupation was immediately taken -down, and then one of those harpies called the _valets de geôle_ was -called, who instantly commenced emptying his pockets of all they -contained, took from him his sword, dagger, and belt, and even laid -hands upon a small jeweled _fermail_, or clasp; upon his hood. The -young man offered no resistance, of course; but when he found himself -stripped of money, and every thing valuable, he was surprised to hear -a demand made upon him for ten livres. - -"This is a most extraordinary charge," he said, looking in the face of -the jailer, who stood by, though it was the valet who made the demand. - -"Why so, boy?" asked the man, gruffly. "It is the jailage due. You -said your name was Jean Charost, Baron De Brecy. A baron pays the same -as a count or a countess." - -"But how can I pay any thing, when you have taken every thing from -me?" asked the young secretary. - -"Oh, you are mistaken," said the jailer, with a rude laugh. "I see you -are a young bird. All that has been taken from you, except the fees of -the jail, will be restored when you go out, if you ever do. But you -must consent with your own tongue to my taking the money for my due, -otherwise we shall put you to sleep in the ditch, where you pay half -fees, and I take them without asking." - -"Take it, take it," said Jean Charost, with a feeling of horror and -dismay that made him feel faint and sick. "Treat me as well as you -can, and take all that is your right. If more be needed, you can have -it." - -The jailer nodded his head to the valet, who grinned at the prisoner, -saying, "We will treat you very well, depend upon it. You shall have a -clean cell, with a bed four feet wide, and only two other gentlemen in -it, both of them of good birth, though one is in for killing a young -market-woman. He will have his head off in three days, and then you -will have only one companion." - -"Can not I be alone?" asked Jean Charost. - -"The law is, three prisoners to one bed," replied the valet of the -jail, "and we can't change the custom--unless you choose to pay"--he -added--"four deniers a night for a single bed, and two for the place -on which it stands." - -"Willingly, willingly," cried the young man, who now saw that money -would do much in a jail, as well as elsewhere. "Can I have a cell to -myself?" - -"To be sure. There is plenty of room," replied the jailer. "If you -choose to pay the dues for two other barons, you can have the space -they would occupy." - -Jean Charost consented to every thing that was demanded; the fees were -taken by the jailer; the rest of the money found upon him was -registered by the man in black, who seemed a mere automaton; and then -he was led away by the valet of the jail to a small room not very far -distant. On the way, and for a minute or two after his arrival in the -cell, the valet continued to give him rapid but clear information -concerning the habits and rules of the place. He found that, if he -attempted to escape, the law would hold him guilty of whatever crime -he was charged with; that he could neither have writing materials, nor -communicate with any friend without an application to one of the -judges at the Châtelet; that all the law allowed a prisoner was bread -and water, and, in the end, that every thing could be procured by -money--except liberty. - -Jean Charost hesitated not then to demand all he required, and the -valet, on returning to the jailer, after having thrice-locked and -thrice-bolted the door, informed his master that the young prisoner -was a "good orange," which probably meant that he was easily sucked. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - - -Do you recollect visiting the booth of a cutler? In that very booth, -the day after the arrest of Jean Charost, might be seen the -intelligent countenance of the deformed boy, Petit Jean, peering over -the large board on which the wares were exposed, and saluting the -passers-by with an arch smile, to which was generally added an -invitation to buy some of the articles of his father's manufacture. -The race _gamin_ is of very ancient date in the city of Paris, where -witty and mischievous imps are found to have existed in great -abundance as far as recorded history can carry us. It must be owned, -too, that a touch of the _gamin_ was to be found in poor Petit Jean, -although his corporeal infirmities prevented him from displaying his -genius in many of the active quips and cranks in which other boys of -his own age indulged. On the present occasion, when he was eager to -sell the goods committed to his charge, he refrained, as far as -possible, from any of his sharp jests, so long as there was any chance -of gaining the good-will of a passing customer, and the _gamin_ spirit -fumed off in a metaphor: but a surly reply, or cold inattention, -generally drew from him some tingling jest, which might have procured -him a drubbing had not his infirmities proved a safeguard. - -"What do you lack, Messire Behue?" he cried, as a good fat currier -rolled past the booth. "Sure, with such custom as you have, your -knives must be all worn out. Here, buy one of these. They are so -sharp, it would save you a crown a day in time, and your customers -would not have to wait like a crowd at a morality." - -The good-natured currier paused, and bargained for a knife, for -flattery will sometimes soften even well-tanned hides; and Petit -Jean, contented with his success, assailed a thin, pale, -sanctimonious-looking man who came after, in much the same manner. - -But this personage scowled at him, saying, "No, no, boy. No more -knives from your stall. The last I bought bent double before two days -were over." - -"That's the fault of your cheese, Peter Guimp," answered the boy, -sharply. "It served Don Joachim, the canon of St. Laurent, worse than -it served our knife, for it broke all the teeth out of his head. Ask -him if it didn't." - -"You lie, you little monster!" said the cheesemonger, irritably. "It -was as bad iron as ever was sharpened." - -"Not so hard as your heart, perhaps," answered Petit Jean; "but it was -a great deal sharper than your wit; and if your cheese had not been -like a millstone, it would have gone through it." - -The monger of cheeses walked on all the faster for two or three women -having come up, all of whom but one, an especial friend of his own, -were laughing at the saucy boy's repartee. - -"Ah, dear Dame Mathurine," cried Petit Jean, addressing the grave -lady, "buy a new bodkin for your cloak. It wants one sadly, just to -pin it up with a jaunty air." - -"Don't Mathurine me, monkey," cried the old woman, walking on after -the cheesemonger; and the boy, winking his eye to the other women, -exclaimed aloud, "Well, you are wise. A new bodkin would only tear a -hole in the old rag. She wore that cloak at her great-grandmother's -funeral when she was ten years old, and that is sixty years ago; so it -may well fear the touch of younger metal." - -"Well, you rogue, what have you to say to me?" said a young and pretty -woman, who had listened, much amused. - -"Only that I have nothing good enough for your beautiful eyes," -answered the boy, promptly; "though you have but to look at the -things, to make them shine as if the sun was beaming on them." - -This hit told well, and the pretty _bourgeoise_ very speedily -purchased two or three articles from the stall. She had just paid her -money, when Martin Grille, with a scared and haggard air, entered the -booth, and asked the boy where his father was, without any previous -salutation. - -"Why, what is the matter with you, Martin?" asked Petit Jean, -affectionately. "You come in like a stranger, and don't say a word to -me about myself or yourself, and look as wild as the devil in a -mystery. What is it you want with my father in such a hurry?" - -"I am vexed and frightened, Petit Jean," replied poor Martin, with a -sigh. "I am quite at my wit's end, who never was at my wit's end -before. Your father may help me; but you can't help at all, my boy." - -"Oh, you don't know that," answered the other. "I can help more than -people know. Why, I have sold more things for my father in three -hours, since he went up to the Celestins to see the body of the Duke -of Orleans, than he ever sold in three days before." - -"Ah, the poor duke! the poor duke!" cried Martin, with a deep sigh. - -"Well, well, come sit down," said Petit Jean. "My father will be in -presently, and in the mean while, I'll play you a tune on my new -violin, and you will see how I can play now." - -Martin Grille seated himself with an absent look, leaned his forehead -upon his hands, and seemed totally to forget every thing around him in -the unwonted intensity of his own thoughts. But the boy, creeping -under the board on which the wares were displayed, brought forth an -instrument of no very prepossessing appearance, tried its tune with -his thumb, as if playing on a guitar, and then seating himself at -Martin Grille's knee, put the instrument to his deformed shoulder. - -There be some to whom music comes as by inspiration. All other arts -are more or less acquired. But those in whom a fine sensibility to -harmony is implanted by Nature, not unfrequently leap over even -mechanical difficulties, and achieve at once, because they have -conceived already. Music must have started from the heart of Apollo, -as wisdom from the head of Jove, without a childhood. Little had been -the instruction, few, scanty, and from an incompetent teacher, the -lessons which that poor deformed boy had received. But now, when the -bow in his hand touched the strings, it drew from them sounds such as -a De Beriot or a Rhode might have envied him the power of educing; -and, fixing his large, lustrous eyes upon his cousin's face, he seemed -to speak in music from his own spirit to the spirit of his hearer. -Whether he had any design, and, if so, what that design was, I can not -tell; perhaps he did not know himself; but certain it is, that the -wandering, wavering composition that he framed on the moment seemed to -bear a strange reference to Martin's feelings. First came a harsh -crash of the bow across all the strings--a broad, bold discord; then a -deep and gloomy phrase, entirely among the lower notes of the -instrument, simple and melodious, but without any attempt at harmony; -then, enriching itself as it went on, the air deviated into the minor, -with sounds exquisitely plaintive, till Martin Grille almost fancied -he could hear the voices of mourners, and exclaimed, "Don't Jean! -don't! I can not bear it!" - -But still the boy went on, as if triumphing in the mastery of music -over the mind, and gradually his instrument gave forth more cheerful -sounds; not light, not exactly gay, for every now and then a flattened -third brought back a touch of melancholy to the air, but still one -could have fancied the ear caught the distant notes of angels singing -hope and peace to man. - -The effect on Martin Grille was strange. It cheered him, but he wept; -and the boy, looking earnestly in his face, said, with a strange -confidence, "Do not tell me I have no power, Martin. Mean, deformed, -and miserable as I am, I have found out that I can rule spirits better -than kings, and have a happiness within me over which they have no -sway. You are not the first I have made weep. So now tell me what it -is you want with my father. Perhaps I may help you better than he -can." - -"It was not you made me weep, you foolish boy," said Martin Grille; -"but it was the thought of the bloody death of the poor Duke of -Orleans, so good a master, and so kind a man; and then I began to -think how his terrible fate might have expiated, through the goodness -of the blessed Virgin, all his little sins, and how the saints and the -angels would welcome him. I almost thought I could hear them singing, -and it was that made me cry. But as to what I want with your father, -it was in regard to my poor master, Monsieur De Brecy, a kind, good -young man, and a gallant one, too. They have arrested him, and thrown -him into prison--a set of fools!--accusing him of having compassed the -prince's death, when he would have laid down his life for him at any -time. But all the people at the hotel are against him, for he is too -good for them, a great deal; and I want somebody powerful to speak in -his behalf, otherwise they may put him to the torture, and cripple him -for life, just to make him confess a lie, as they did with Paul -Laroche, who never could walk without two sticks after. Now I know, -your father is one of the Duke of Burgundy's men, and that duke will -rule the roast now, I suppose." - -"Strong spirits seek strong spirits," said the boy, thoughtfully; "and -perhaps my father might do something with the duke. But Martin," he -continued, after a short and silent pause, "do not you have any thing -to do with the Duke of Burgundy! He will not help you. I do not know -what it is puts such thoughts in my head. But the king's brother had -an enemy; the king's brother is basely murdered; his enemy still lives -heartily; and it is not him I would ask to help a man falsely accused. -Stay a little. They took me, three days ago, to play before the King -of Navarre, and I am to go to-day, with my instrument, to play before -the Queen of Sicily. I think I can help you, Martin, if she will but -hear me. This murder, perhaps, may put it all out, for she was fond of -the duke, they tell me; but I will send her word, through some of her -people, when I go, that I have got a dirge to play for his highness -that is dead. She will hear that, perhaps. Only tell me all about it." - -Martin Grille's story was somewhat long; but as the reader already -knows much that he told in a desultory sort of way to his young -cousin, and the rest is not of much importance to this tale, we will -pass over his account, which lasted some twenty minutes, and had not -been finished five when Caboche himself entered the booth in holiday -attire. His first words showed Martin Grille the good sense of Petit -Jean's advice, not to speak to his father in favor of Jean Charost. - -"Oh ho! Martin," cried Caboche, in a gruff and almost savage tone, "so -your gay duke has got his brains knocked out at last for his fine -doings." - -"For which of his doings has he been so shamefully murdered?" asked -Martin Grille, with as much anger in his tone as he dared to evince. - -"What, don't you know?" exclaimed Caboche. "Why, it is in every body's -mouth that he has been killed by Albert de Chauny, whose wife he -carried off and made a harlot of. I say, well done, Albert de Chauny; -and I would have done the same if I had been in his place." - -"Then Monsieur De Brecy is proved innocent," said Martin Grille, -eagerly. - -"I know nothing about that," answered Caboche. "He may have been an -accomplice, you know; but that's no business of mine. I went up to see -the duke lie at the Celestins. There was a mighty crowd there of men -and women; but they all made way for Caboche. He makes a handsome -corpse, though his head is so knocked about; but he'll not take any -more men's wives away, and now we shall have quiet days, I suppose, -though I don't see what good quiet does: for whether the town is -peaceful or not, men don't buy or sell nowadays half as much as they -used to do." - -There was a certain degree of vanity in his tone as he uttered the -words, "All made way for Caboche," which was very significant; and his -description of the appearance of the Duke of Orleans made Martin -Grille shudder. He remained not long with his rough uncle, however; -but, after having asked and answered some questions, he took advantage -of a moment when Caboche himself was busy in rearranging his cutlery -and counting his money, to whisper a few words to Petit Jean regarding -a meeting in the evening, and then parted from him, saying simply, -"Remember!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - - -There was a great crowd in the court of the Hôtel d'Anjou--lackeys, -and pages, and men-at-arms; but the court was a very large one, with -covered galleries on either hand, and the number of retainers present -was hardly seen. From time to time some great lord of the court -arrived, and proceeded at once into the palace, leaving his followers -to swell some of the little groups into which the whole body of the -people assembled had arranged themselves. To one particular point the -eyes of all present were most frequently directed, and it was only -when one of the princes of the blood royal, the Dukes of Berri or -Bourbon, or the King of Navarre arrived, that the mere spectators of -the scene could divert their eyes from a spot where a young and -handsome lad, who had not yet seen twenty years, stood in the midst of -a group of the _prévôt's_ guard with fetters on his limbs. - -By half past three o'clock, several of the princes and the Royal -Council had entered the building, and were conducted at once to a -large hall on the ground floor, where every thing was dark and sombre -as the occasion of the meeting. The ceiling was much lower than might -have been expected in a chamber of such great size; but the -decorations which it displayed were rich and costly, showing the rose, -an ancient emblem of the house of Anjou, in red, and green, and gold, -at the corner of every panel; for the ceiling, like the rest of the -room, was covered with dark oak. The walls were richly embellished; -but the want of light hid the greater part of the delicate carving, -and scarcely allowed a secretary, seated at the table, to see the -letters on the paper on which he was writing. - -Most of the members of the council had arrived; the Duke of Berri -himself was present; but two very important personages had not yet -appeared, namely, the Duke of Anjou (titular king of Sicily), and the -Duke of Burgundy. The Duke of Berri, nevertheless, gave orders that -the business of the day should proceed, while he sent a lackey to -summon the Duke of Anjou; and very shortly after, that prince entered -the room, inquiring, as he advanced to the table, if the _prévôt_ had -yet arrived. - -"No, fair cousin," replied the Duke of Berri; "but we may as well get -over the preliminaries. The facts attending the finding of the body -must be read, in the first place." - -"I have read the whole of the _procès verbal_," replied the King of -Sicily. "Go on--go on, I will be back immediately." - -The Duke of Berri seemed somewhat displeased to see his cousin quit -the hall again; but the investigation proceeded. All the facts -regarding the assassination of the Duke of Orleans which had been -collected were read by the secretary from the papers before him; and -when he had done, he added, "I find, my lords, that a young gentleman, -the secretary of the late duke, who was not with him at the Hôtel -Barbette, was arrested by one of her majesty's servants at the scene -of the murder, in very suspicious circumstances, shortly after the -crime was perpetrated. Is it your pleasure that he be brought before -you?" - -"Assuredly," replied the Duke of Berri. "I have seen the young -gentleman, and judged well of him. I can not think he had any share in -this foul deed. Are there any of my poor nephew's household here who -can testify concerning him?" - -"Several, your highness," answered the secretary. "They are in the -ante-room." - -"Let them also be called in," said the Duke of Berri; and in a minute -or two, Jean Charost, heavily ironed, was brought to the end of the -table, and a number of the Duke of Orleans's officers, the jester, and -the chaplain appeared behind them. - -The Duke of Berri gazed at the young man sternly; but with Jean -Charost, the first feelings of grief, horror, and alarm had now given -way to a sense of indignation at the suspicions entertained against -him, and he returned the duke's glance firmly and unshrinkingly, with -a look of manly confidence which sat well even upon his youthful -features. - -"Well, young gentleman," said the Duke of Berri, at length, "what have -you to say for yourself?" - -"In what respect, my lord?" asked Jean Charost, still keeping his eyes -upon the duke; for the stare of all around was painful to him. - -"In answer to the charge brought against you," answered the Duke of -Berri. - -"I know of no charge, your highness," answered Jean Charost. "I only -know that while proceeding, according to the orders of my late beloved -lord, to rejoin him at the Hôtel Barbette. I was seized by some men at -one corner of the Rue Barbette, just as I was pausing to look at a -house in flames, and at a crowd which I saw further down the street; -that then, without almost any explanation, I was hurried to prison, -and that this morning I have been brought hither, with these fetters -on my limbs, which do not become an innocent French gentleman." - -"It is right you should near the charge," answered the duke. "Is the -man who first apprehended him here present?" - -The tall, stout lackey of the queen, who had been the first to seize -the young secretary's bridle, now bustled forward, full of his own -importance, and related, not altogether without embellishment, his -doings of the preceding night. He told how, on hearing from the flying -servants of the Duke of Orleans that their lord had been attacked by -armed men in the street, he had snatched up a halbert and run to his -assistance; how he arrived too late, and then addressed himself to -apprehend the murderers. He said that Jean Charost was not riding in -any direction, but sitting on his horse quite still, as if he had been -watching from a distance the deed just done; and that a gentleman of -good repute, who had hastened, like himself, to give assistance, had -pointed out the young secretary as one of the band of assassins, and -even aided to apprehend him. He added various particulars of no great -importance in regard to Jean Charost's manner and words, with the view -of making out a case of strong suspicion against him. - -"You hear the charge," said the Duke of Berri, when the man had ended; -"what have you to say?" - -"I might well answer nothing, your highness," replied Jean Charost; -"for, so far as I can see, there is no charge against me, except that -I checked my horse for an instant to look at a crowd and a house in -flames. Nevertheless, if you will permit me, I will ask this man a -question or two, as it may tend to bring some parts of this dark -affair to light." - -"Ask what you please," answered the duke; and Jean Charost turned to -the servant, and demanded, it must be confessed, in a sharp tone, "Was -the man who pointed me out to you armed or unarmed?" - -"Completely armed, except the head," replied the lackey, looking a -little confused. - -"What had he in his hand?" demanded Jean Charost. - -"A mace, I think," answered the man; "an iron mace." - -"Did he tell you how he came completely armed in the streets of Paris -at that hour of the night?" asked Jean Charost. - -"He said he came forth at the cries," answered the servant. - -"How long may it take to arm a man completely, except the head?" asked -the young gentleman. - -"I don't know," answered the servant; "I don't bear arms." - -"I do," answered Jean Charost; "and so do these noble lords; nor is it -probable that a man could shuffle on his armor in time to be there on -the spot so soon, unless he were well armed before. Now tell me, what -was this man's name?" - -The man hesitated; but the Duke of Berri thundered from the head of -the table, "Answer at once, sir. You have said he was a gentleman of -good repute; you must therefore know him. What was his name?" - -"William of Courthose," answered the man; "the brother of the king's -valet de chambre." - -"Where is he?" asked the Duke of Berri, so sternly, that the man -became more and more alarmed, judging that his stupid activity might -not prove so honorable to himself as he had expected. - -"I do not know rightly, your highness," he replied. "His brother told -me to-day he had gone to Artois." - -There was a silence all through the room at this announcement. Jean -Charost asked no more questions. Several of the council looked -meaningly in each other's faces, and the Duke of Berri gazed -thoughtfully down at the table. - -The chaplain of the late Duke of Orleans, however, and Seigneur André, -his fool, moved round and got behind the prince's chair. - -The former bent his head, and said a few words in a low tone; and the -duke instantly looked up, saying, "It seems, Monsieur De Brecy, that -there was a quarrel between yourself and my unhappy nephew. You were -heard speaking loud and angrily in his apartments; you left him half -way to the Hôtel Barbette. Explain all this!" - -"There was no quarrel, my lord," replied Jean Charost; "there could be -no quarrel between an humble man like myself and a prince of the blood -royal. His highness reproved me for something I had done amiss, and -his voice was certainly loud when he did so. He pardoned me, however, -on my apology, took me with him on his way to the Hôtel Barbette, sent -me to deliver a letter and receive an answer, and commanded me to -rejoin him at her majesty's house, which I was on the way to do when I -was arrested." - -"What was the cause of his reproving you?" asked the Duke of Berri; -"to whom did he send you with a letter, and where did you pass the -time from the moment you left him to the moment of your arrest? You -had better, Monsieur De Brecy, give a full account of your whole -conduct from the time of your arrival in Paris till the time of your -apprehension." - -Jean Charost looked down thoughtfully, and his countenance changed. To -betray the secrets of the dead, to plant a fresh thorn in the heart of -the Duchess of Orleans, already torn, as it must be, to explain how -and why he had hesitated to obey his lord's commands, was what he -would fain escape from at almost any risk; and his confidence in his -own innocence made him believe that his refusal could do him no -material damage. - -"It will be better for yourself, sir, to be frank and candid," said -the Duke of Berri; "a few words may clear you of all suspicion." - -"I doubt it not, your highness," replied Jean Charost; "for as yet I -see no cause for any. Were I myself alone concerned, I would willingly -and at once state every act of my own and every word I uttered; but, -my lord, in so doing, I should be obliged to give also the acts and -words of my noble master. They were spoken to me in confidence, as -between a frank and generous prince and his secretary. He is dead; but -that absolves me not from the faithful discharge of my duty toward -him. What he confided to me--whither he sent me--nay, even more, the -very cause of his reproving me, which involves some part of his own -private affairs, I will never disclose, be the consequence what it -may; and I do trust that noble princes and honorable gentlemen will -not require an humble secretary, as I am, to betray the secrets of his -lord." - -"You are bound, sir, by the law, to answer truly any questions that -the king's council may demand of you," said the King of Navarre, -sternly; "if not, we can compel you." - -"I think not, my lord," replied Jean Charost; "I know of no means -which can compel an honorable man to violate a sacred duty." - -"Ha, ha!" shouted Seigneur André; "he does not know of certain -bird-cages we have in France to make unwilling warblers sing. Methinks -one screw of the rack would soon make the pretty creature open its -bill." - -"I think so too," said the King of Navarre, setting his teeth, and not -at all well pleased with Jean Charost's reply. "We give you one more -chance, sir; will you, or will you not, answer the Duke of Berri's -questions? If not, we must try the extent of your obstinacy." - -As he spoke he beckoned up to him the _prévôt_ of Paris, who had -entered the hall a few minutes before, and spoke to him something in a -whisper; to which the other replied, "Oh yes, sir, in the other -chamber; the screw will do; it has often more power than the rack." - -In the mean time, a struggle had been going on in the breast of Jean -Charost. - -It is often very dangerous to commit one's self by words to a certain -course of action. So long as we keep a debate with ourselves within -the secret council-chamber of our own bosom, we feel no hesitation in -retracting an ill-formed opinion or a rash resolution; but when we -have called our fellow-creatures to witness our thoughts or our -determinations, the great primeval sin of pride puts a barrier in our -way, and often prevents us going back, even when we could do so with -honor. - -Jean Charost was as faulty as the rest of our race, and perhaps it -would be too much to say that pride had no share in strengthening his -resolution; but, after a short pause, he replied, "My lord, the Duke -of Berri, take it not ill of me, I beg your highness, that I say any -questions simply regarding myself I will answer truly and at once; but -none in any way affecting the private affairs of my late royal master -will I answer at all." - -"We can not suffer our authority to be set at naught," said the Duke -of Berri, gravely; and the King of Navarre, turning with a heavy frown -to the _prévôt_, exclaimed, "Remove him, Monsieur Tignonville, and -make him answer." - -Jean Charost turned very pale, but he said nothing; and two of the -_prévôt's_ men laid their hands upon him, and drew him from the end of -the table. - -At the same moment, however, another young man started forward, with -his face all in a glow, exclaiming, "Oh, my lords, my lords! for -pity's sake, for your own honor's sake, forbear! He is as noble and as -faithful a lad as ever lived--well-beloved of the prince whom we all -mourn. Think you that he, who will suffer torture rather than betray -his lord's secrets, would conspire his death?" - -"It may be his own secrets he will not reveal," said the Duke of -Berri. - -"Meddle not with what does not concern you," cried the King of -Navarre, sternly. - -But Jean Charost turned his head as they were taking him from the -room, and exclaimed, "Thank you, De Royans--thank you! That is noble -and just." - -He was scarcely removed when the Duke of Burgundy entered by the great -entrance, and the King of Sicily by a small door behind the Duke of -Berri. The former was alone, but the latter was followed by several of -the officers of his household, and in the midst of them appeared a -young girl, leaning on the arm of an elder woman dressed as a superior -servant. - -"I heard that Monsieur De Brecy was under examination," said Louis of -Anjou, looking round, "accused of being accessory to the murder. Is he -not here?" - -"He has retired with a friend," said Seigneur André, who thought it -his privilege to intermeddle with all conversation. - -"The truth is, fair cousin," answered the King of Navarre, "we have -found him a very obstinate personage to deal with, setting at naught -the authority of the council, and refusing to answer the questions -propounded to him. We have therefore been compelled to employ means -which usually make recusants answer." - -"Good God! I hope not," exclaimed the Duke of Anjou. "Here is a young -lady who can testify something in his favor." - -He turned as he spoke toward the young girl who had followed him into -the hall, and who has more than once appeared upon the scene already. -She was deadly pale, but those energies which afterward saved France -failed her not now. She loosed her hold of the old servant's arm, on -which she had been leaning, took a step forward, and, with her hands -clasped, exclaimed, "In God's name, mighty princes, forbear! Send a -messenger, if you would save your own peace, and countermand your -terrible order. I know not why you have doomed an innocent man to -torture, but right sure I am that somehow he has brought such an -infliction on his head by honesty, and not by crime; by keeping his -faith, not by breaking it." - -"They are made for each other," said the King of Navarre, coldly. -"They both speak in the same tone. Who is she, cousin of Sicily?" - -"Mademoiselle De St. Geran--Agnes Sorel," answered the Duke of Anjou, -in a low tone. "One of the maids of honor to my wife." - -But Agnes took no notice of their half-heard colloquy, and, turning at -once with quick decision and infinite grace toward the Duke of -Burgundy, who sat with his head leaning on his hand, and his eyes -fixed upon the table, she exclaimed, "My lord the Duke of Burgundy, I -beseech you to interfere. You know this young man--you know he is -faithful and true--you know he refused to betray the secret of his -lord, even at your command, and dared your utmost anger. You know he -is not guilty." - -"I do," said the Duke of Burgundy, rising, and speaking in a hoarse, -hollow tone. "My lords, he is not guilty--I am sure. Suspend your -order, I beseech you. Send off to the Châtelet, and let him--" - -A deep groan, which seemed almost a suppressed cry, appeared to -proceed from a door half way down the hall, and swell through the -room, like the note of an organ. - -"He is not far off, as you may hear," said the King of Navarre, with -an indifferent manner. "Tell them to stop, if you please, fair -cousin." - -The Duke of Burgundy had waited to ask no permission, but was already -striding toward the door. He threw it sharply open, and entered a -small room having no exit, except through the hall; but he paused, -without speaking, for a moment, although before his eyes lay poor Jean -Charost strapped down upon a sort of iron bedstead, and one of the -_prévôt's_ men stood actually turning a wheel at the head, which -elongated the whole frame, and threatened to tear the unfortunate -sufferer to pieces. For an instant, the duke continued to gaze in -silence, as if desirous of seeing how much the unhappy young man could -bear. But Jean Charost uttered not a word. That one groan of agony had -burst from him on first feeling the _peine forte et dure_. But now his -resolution seemed to have triumphed over human weakness, and, with his -teeth shut and his eyes closed, he lay and suffered without a cry. - -"Hold!" exclaimed the duke, at length. "Hold, Messire Prévôt. Unbind -the young man. He is not guilty!" - -The duke then slowly moved toward the door, and closed it sharply, -while Jean Charost was removed from his terrible couch, and a little -water given him to drink. He sat up, and leaned his head upon his -hand, with his eyes still closed, and not even seeming to see who had -come to deliver him. The _prévôt's_ men approached, and attempted, -somewhat rudely, to place upon him his coat and vest, which had been -taken off to apply the torture. - -"Patience--patience, for a moment!" he said. - -In the mean while, the Duke of Burgundy had approached close to him, -and stood gazing at him with his arms crossed on his broad chest. "Can -you speak, young man?" he said, at length. - -Jean Charost inclined his head a little further. - -"What was it you refused to tell the council?" asked the duke. - -"Where the Duke of Orleans sent me last night," answered the young -man, faintly. - -"Faithful and true, indeed!" said the Duke of Burgundy; and then, -laying his broad hand upon the youth's aching shoulder, he said, in a -low tone, "If you seek new service, De Brecy, join me at Mons in a -week. I will raise you to high honor; and remember--this you have -suffered was not my doing. I came to deliver you. Now bring him in, -_prévôt_, as soon as he can bear it." - -When the duke returned to the hall, he found Agnes Sorel standing by -the side of the Duke of Berri, although a chair had been placed for -her by one of the gentlemen near; for in those days there was the -brilliant stamp of chivalrous courtesy on all French gentlemen, in -external things at least, though since blotted out by the blood of -Lamballe and Marie Antoinette. - -"Your testimony as to his general character and uprightness, my fair -young lady," said the Duke of Berri, in a kindly tone, "will have the -weight that it deserves with the council, but we must have something -more definite here. We find that he was absent more than an hour from -the duke's suite, when my poor nephew had ordered him to rejoin him -immediately, and that this fearful assassination was committed during -that period. He refuses to answer as to where he was, or what he was -doing during that time. We will put the question to him again," he -continued, looking toward the door at which Jean Charost now appeared, -supported by two of the _prévôt's_ men, and followed by that officer -himself. "Has he made any answer, Monsieur De Tignonville?" - -"Not a word, your highness," replied the _prévôt_. - -"Noble lad!" said Agnes Sorel, in a low voice, as if to herself; and -then continued, raising her tone, "My lord the duke, I will tell you -where he was, and what he was doing." - -The Duke of Burgundy started, and looked suddenly up; but Agnes went -on. "Although there be some men to whose characters certain acts are -so repugnant that to suppose them guilty of them would be to suppose -an impossibility, and though I and the mighty prince there opposite -can bear witness that such is the case even in this instance, yet, -lest he should bring himself into danger by his faithfulness, I will -tell you what he will not speak, for I am bound by no duty to refrain. -He was at the house of Madame De Giac, sent thither with a note by the -Duke of Orleans. She told me so herself this morning, and lamented -that a foolish trick she caused her servants to play him--merely to -see how he, in his inexperience, would escape from a difficulty--had -prevented him from rejoining his princely master, though, as she -justly said, her idle jest had most likely saved the young man's -life." - -"Skillfully turned," muttered the Duke of Burgundy between his teeth, -and he looked up with a relieved expression of countenance. - -"If my lords doubt me," continued the young girl, "let them send for -Madame De Giac herself." - -"Nay, nay, we doubt you not," said the Duke of Burgundy; "and so sure -am I of the poor lad's innocence--although he offended me somewhat at -Pithiviers--that I propose he should be instantly liberated, and -allowed to retire." - -"Open the door, but first clip the bird's wings," said Seigneur André. -"He won't fly far, I fancy, after the trimming he has had." - -The proposal of the Duke of Burgundy, however, was at once acceded to; -and Louis of Anjou, whose heart was a kindly one, notwithstanding some -failings, leaned across the table toward Agnes Sorel, saying, "Take -him with you, pretty maid, and try what you and the rest can do to -comfort him till I come." - -Agnes frankly held out her hand to Jean Charost, saying, "Come, -Monsieur De Brecy, you need rest and refreshment. Come; you shall have -the sweetest music you have ever heard to cheer you, and may have to -thank the musician too." - -With feeble and wavering steps, the young gentleman followed her from -the room; and the moment the door was closed behind them, the King of -Sicily turned to the _prévôt_, saying, "This young man is clearly -innocent, Monsieur De Tignonville. Do you not think so?" - -"I have never thought otherwise, my lord," replied the _prévôt_. - -"Well, then, sir," said the Duke of Berri, "you have doubtless used -all diligence, as we commanded this morning, to trace out those who -have committed so horrible a crime as the assassination of the king's -own brother." - -"All diligence have I used, noble lords and mighty princes," said De -Tignonville, advancing to the edge of the table, and speaking in a -peculiarly stern and resolute tone of voice; "but I have yet -apprehended none of the assassins or their accomplices. Nevertheless, -such information have I received as leads me to feel sure that I shall -be able to place them before you ere many hours are over, if you will -give me the authority of the council to enter and examine the houses -of all the servants of the king and those of the princes--even of the -blood royal; which, as you know, is beyond my power without your -especial sanction." - -"Most assuredly," replied the King of Sicily. "Begin with mine, if you -please. Search it from top to bottom. There are none of us here who -would stand upon a privilege that might conceal the murderer of Louis -of Orleans." - -"There can be no objection," said the Duke of Berri. "Search mine, -when you please, Monsieur le Prévôt." - -"And mine," said the Duke of Bourbon. - -"And mine--and mine," said several of the lords of the council. - -The Duke of Burgundy said nothing; but sat at the table, with his face -pale, and his somewhat harsh features sharpened, though motionless. At -length he started up from the table, and exclaimed, in a sharp, quick -tone, "Come hither, Sicily--come hither, my fair uncle of Berri. I -would I speak a word with you;" and he strode toward the great door, -followed by the two princes whom he had selected. - -Between the great door and that of an outer hall was a small -vestibule, with a narrow stair-case on one side, on the lower steps of -which some attendants were sitting, when the duke appeared suddenly -among them. - -"Avoid!" he said, in a tone so loud and harsh as to scatter them at -once like a flock of frightened sheep. He then closed both the doors, -looked up the stair-case, and drew the Duke of Berri toward him, -whispering something in his ear in a low tone. - -The venerable prince started back, and gazed at him with a look of -horror. "It was a suggestion of the great enemy," said Burgundy, "and -I yielded." - -"What does he say--what does he say?" exclaimed the King of Sicily. - -"That he--he ordered the assassination," answered the Duke of Berri, -in a sad and solemn tone. "I have lost two nephews in one night!" - -The Duke of Anjou drew back with no less horror in his face than that -which had marked the countenance of the Duke of Berri; but he gave -more vehement way to the feeling of reprobation which possessed -him, expressing plainly his grief and indignation. He was brief, -however, and soon laid his hand upon the lock to open the door of the -council-chamber again. - -"Stay, stay, Louis," said the Duke of Berri. "Let us say nothing of -this terrible truth till we have well considered what is to be done." - -"Done!" repeated the Duke of Burgundy, gazing at them both with a look -of stern surprise, as if he had fully expected that his acknowledgment -of the deed was to make it pass uninvestigated and unpunished; and -passing between his two relations, he too approached the door as if to -go in. - -But the Duke of Berri barred the way. "Go not into the council, fair -nephew," he said. "It would not please me, nor any other person there, -to have you among us now." - -The Duke of Burgundy gave him one glance, but answered nothing; and, -passing through the opposite door and the outer hall, mounted his -horse and rode away, followed by his train. - -"Let us break up the council, Louis," said the Duke of Berri, "and -summon it for to-morrow morning. I will hie me home, and give the next -hours to silent thought and prayer. You do the same; and let us meet -to-morrow before the council reassembles." - -"My thoughts are all confused," said the King of Sicily. "Is it a -dream, noble kinsman--a bloody and terrible dream? Well, go you in. I -dare not go with you. I should discover all. Say I am sick--God knows -it is true--sick, very sick at heart." - -Thus saying, he turned toward the stair-case, and while the Duke of -Berri returned to those he had left, and broke up the council -abruptly, the other prince proceeded slowly and gloomily toward his -wife's apartments. When he reached the top of the stairs, however, and -opened the door at which they terminated, a strain of the most -exquisite music met his ear, sweet, slow, and plaintive, but yet not -altogether melancholy. - -Oh, how inharmonious can music sometimes be to the spirits even of -those who love it best! - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - - -There are moments in life when even kindness and tenderness have no -balm--when all streams are bitter because the bitterness is in -us--when the heart is hardened to the nether millstone by the Gorgon -look of despair--when happiness is so utterly lost that unhappiness -has no degrees. There are such moments; but, thank God, they are few. - -Heavy in heart and spirit, indignant at the treatment he had received, -with his mind full of grief and horror at the dreadful death of a -prince he had well loved, and with a body weary and broken with the -torture he had undergone, still Jean Charost found comfort and relief -in the soothing tenderness of Agnes Sorel, and of two or three girls -somewhat older than herself, who lavished kindness and attention upon -him as soon as they learned what had just befallen him. Some wine was -brought, and fair hands gave it to him, and all that woman's pity -could do was done. But Agnes had that morning learned the power of -music, and, running away into an ante-room, she exclaimed, "Where is -our sweet musician? Here, boy--here! Bring your instrument, and try -and comfort him for whom you pleaded so hard just now. He needs it -much." - -Petit Jean rose instantly, paused for one moment to screw up a little -one of the strings of his violin, and then followed into the inner -room, giving a timid glance around over the fair young faces which -were gathered about Jean Charost. But his eyes soon settled upon the -sufferer with an inquiring look, which put the question as plainly as -in words, "What is the matter with him?" - -"They have put him to the torture," whispered Agnes; and the boy, -after a moment's pause, raised his instrument to his shoulder and drew -from it those sweet tones which the Duke of Anjou had heard. A short -time before, he had played a dirge for the Duke of Orleans in the -presence of the Queen of Sicily--I can hardly call it one of his own -compositions, but rather one of his inspirations. It had been deep, -solemn, almost terrible; but now the music was very different, sweet, -plaintive, and yet with a mingling of cheerfulness every now and then, -as if it would fain have been gay, but that something like memory -oppressed the melody. It was like a spring day in the country--a day -of early spring--when winter is still near at hand, though summer lies -on before. - -To enjoy fine and elaborate music aright, we require some learning, a -disciplined and practiced ear; but those, I believe, who have heard -the least music are more deeply affected by simple melodies. The -sensations which Jean Charost experienced are hardly to be described, -and when the boy ceased, he held out his hand to him, saying, "Thank -you, thank you, my young friend. You have done me more good than ever -did leech to sick man." - -"You have more to thank him for than that," said Agnes, with a smile, -which brought out upon her face, not then peculiarly handsome, that -latent, all-captivating beauty which was afterward her peril and her -power. "Had it not been for him, neither the Queen of Sicily nor I -would ever have heard of your danger." - -"How can that be?" asked Jean Charost. "I do not know him--I never saw -him." - -"Nor I you," replied the boy; "but 'tis the story of the lion and the -mouse that my grandmother told me. You have a lackey called Martin -Grille. He is my cousin. You have been kind to him; he has been kind -to me; and so the whole has gone in a round. He gave me the first -crown he could spare; that helped me to buy this thing that speaks so -sweetly when I tell it. It said to that young lady, and to the queen, -to have pity; and they had pity on you; and so that went in a round -too. But I must go now, for I have to meet Martin on the parvis, and I -shall be too late." - -"Stay a moment," said Agnes. "You have had no reward." - -"Oh yes, I have," replied the boy. "Reward enough in setting him -free." - -"Nay, that was but justice," she answered. "Stay but a moment, and I -will tell the queen you are going." - -One of the other girls accompanied her, and two more dropped away -before she returned. Another, who was elder, remained talking with -Petit Jean, and asking him many questions as to how he had acquired -such skill in music. The boy said, God sent it; that from his infancy -he had always played upon any instrument he could get; that one of the -chanters of Nôtre Dame had taught him a little, and a blind man, who -played on the cornemuse, had given him some instruction. That was all -that he could tell; but yet, though he showed no learning, he spoke of -his beautiful art with a wild confidence and enthusiasm that the young -denizen of an artificial court could not at all comprehend. At length -Agnes returned alone, bearing a small silk purse in her hand, which -she gave to the boy, saying, "The queen thanks you, Petit Jean; and -bids you come to her again on Sunday night. To-day she can hear -nothing that is not sad; but she would fain hear some of your gayer -music." - -"Tell Martin that I will be home soon," said Jean Charost. "Indeed, I -see not why I should not go with you now. Methinks I could walk to the -hotel." - -"Nay," said Agnes, kindly; "you shall not go yet. The king has given -me charge of you, and I will be obeyed. It will be better that he tell -your servant to come hither, and inquire for Madame De Busserole, our -superintendent. Then, when you have somebody with you, you can go in -more safety. Tell him so, Petit Jean. I must let Madame De Busserole -know, however, lest the young man be sent away." - -"I will tell her," said the other maid of honor. "You stay with your -friend, Agnes; for I have got that rose in my embroidery to finish. -Farewell, Monsieur De Brecy. If I were a king, I would hang all the -torturers and burn all the racks, with the man who first invented them -in the middle of them." And she tripped gayly out of the room. - -The boy took his departure at the same time; and Jean Charost and -Agnes were left alone together, or nearly so--for various people came -and went--during well-nigh an hour. The light soon began to fade, and -a considerable portion of their interview passed in twilight; but -their conversation was not such as to require any help from the looks. -It was very calm and quiet. Vain were it, indeed, to say that they did -not take much interest in each other. But both were very young, and -there are different ways of being young. Some are young in years--some -in mind--some in heart. Agnes and Jean Charost were both older than -their years in mind, but perhaps younger than their years in heart; -and nothing even like a dream of love came over the thoughts of -either. - -They talked much of the late Duke of Orleans, and Jean Charost told -her a good deal of the duchess. They talked, too, of Madame De Giac; -and Agnes related to him all the particulars of that lady's visit to -her in the morning. - -"Why she came, I really do not know," said the young girl. "Although -she is a distant cousin of my late father's, there was never any great -love between us, and we parted with no great tenderness two days after -I saw you at Pithiviers. Her principal object seemed to be to tell me -of your having visited her yesterday night, and to mention the foolish -trick she played upon you. That she seemed very eager to explain--I -know not why." - -Jean Charost mused somewhat gloomily. There were suspicions in his -breast he did not like to mention; and the conduct and demeanor of -Madame De Giac toward himself were not what he could tell to her -beside him. - -"I love not that Madame De Giac," he said, at length. - -"I never loved her," answered Agnes. "I can remember her before her -marriage, and I loved her not then; but still less do I esteem her -now, after having been more than ten days in her company. It is -strange, Monsieur De Brecy, is it not, what it can be that gives -children a sort of feeling of people's characters, even before they -have any real knowledge of them. She was always very kind to me, even -as a child; but I thought of her then just as I think of her now, -though perhaps I ought to think worse; for since then she has said -many things to me which I wish I had never heard." - -"How so!" asked Jean Charost, eagerly. "What has she said?" - -"Oh, much that I can not tell--that I forget," answered Agnes, with -the color mounting in her cheek. "But her general conversation, with -me at least, does not please me. She speaks of right and wrong, -honesty and dishonesty, as if there were no distinctions between them -but those made by priests and lawyers. Every thing, to her mind, -depends upon what is most advantageous in the end; and that is the -most advantageous, in her mind, which gives the most pleasure." - -"She may be right," answered Jean Charost, "if she takes the next -world into account as well as this. But still I think her doctrines -dangerous ones, and would not have any one to whom I wish well listen -to them." - -"I never do," answered Agnes; "but she laughs at me when I tell her I -would rather not hear; and tells me that all these things, and indeed -the whole world, will appear to me as differently ten years hence as -the world now does compared with what it seemed to me as an infant. I -do not think it; do you?" - -"I can not tell," replied Jean Charost, gravely; "but I hope not; for -I believe it would be better for us all could we always see the world -with the eyes of childhood. True, it has changed much to my own view -within the last few months; but it has changed sadly, and I wish I -could look upon it as I did before. That can not be, however; and I -suppose we are all--though men more than women--destined to see these -changes, and to pass through them." - -"Men can bear them better than women," answered Agnes. "A storm that -breaks a flower or kills a butterfly, does not bend an oak or scare an -eagle. Well, we must endure whatever be our lot; but I often think, -Monsieur De Brecy, that, had the choice been mine, I would rather have -been a peasant girl--not a serf, but a free farmer's daughter--with a -tall, white cap, and a milk-pail on my arm, than a lady of the court, -with all these gauds and jewels about me. If my poor mother had lived, -I should never have been here." - -Thus they rambled on for some time, till at length it was announced -that Martin Grille was in waiting; and Jean Charost took his leave of -his fair companion, pouring forth upon her at the last moment his -thanks for all she had done to serve and save him. He was still stiff -and weak, feeling as if every bone in his body had been crushed, and -every muscle riven; but he contrived to reach the Hôtel d'Orleans, -with the assistance of Martin Grille. - -It was now quite dark; but in the vestibule, which has been often -mentioned, a number of the unfortunate duke's servants and retainers -were assembled, among whom Jean Charost perceived at once, by the dim -light of the lanterns, the faces of the chaplain and Seigneur André. -As soon as the latter saw him leaning feebly on his servant, he cried -out, with an exulting laugh, "Ah, here comes the lame sparrow who was -once so pert." - -"Silence, fool!" cried a loud voice, "or I will break your head for -you." And Juvenel de Royans came forward, holding out his hand to Jean -Charost. "Let us be friends, De Brecy," he said. "I have done you some -wrong--I have acted foolishly--like a boy; but this last fatal night, -and this day, have made a man of me, and I trust a wiser one than I -have ever shown myself. Forget the past, and let us be friends." - -"Most willingly," replied Jean Charost. "But I must get to my chamber, -De Royans, for, to say the truth, I can hardly drag my limbs along." - -"Curses upon them!" replied De Royans "the cruel monsters, to torture -a man for faithfulness to his lord! Let me help you, De Brecy." And, -putting his strong arm through that of Jean Charost, he aided him to -ascend the stairs, and with rough kindness laid him down upon his bed. - -Here, during the evening, the young secretary was visited by various -members of the household, though, to say truth, he was in no very -fit state to entertain them. Lomelini came, with his soft and -somewhat cunning courtesy, to ask what he could do for the young -gentleman--doubting not that he would take a high place in the favor -of the duchess. The chaplain came to excuse himself for having -suggested certain questions to the king's counsel, and did it somewhat -lamely. - -Old Monsieur Blaize visited him, to express warm and hearty applause -of the young man's conduct in all respects. "Do your _devoir_ as -knightly in the field, my young friend," he said, "as you have done it -before the council, and you will win your golden spurs in the first -battle that is stricken." - -Several of the late duke's knights, with whom Jean Charost had formed -no acquaintance, came also to express their approbation; but praise -fell upon a faint and heavy ear; for all he had passed through was not -without consequences more serious than were at first apparent. - -Martin Grille overflowed with joy and satisfaction so sincere and -radiant at the escape of his master, that Jean Charost could not help -being touched by the good valet's attachment. But, as a true -Frenchman, he was full of his own part in the young gentleman's -deliverance, attributing to himself and his own dexterity all honor -and praise for the result which had been attained. He perceived not, -for some time, in his self-gratulations, that Jean Charost could -neither smile nor listen; that a red spot came in his cheek; that his -eyes grew blood-shot, and his lip parched. At length, however, a few -incoherent words alarmed him, and he determined to sit by his master's -bedside and watch. Before morning he had to seek a physician; and then -began all the follies of the medical art, common in those times. - -For fourteen days, however, Jean Charost was utterly unconscious of -whether he was treated well or ill, kindly or the reverse; and at the -end of that time, when the light of reason returned, it was but faint -and feeble. When first he became fully conscious, he found himself -lying in a small room, of which he thought he recollected something. -The light of an early spring day was streaming in through an open -window, with the fresh air, sweet and balmy; and the figure of a -middle-aged man, in a black velvet gown, was seen going out of the -door. - -The eyes of the young man turned from one object around him to -another. There was a little writing-table, two or three wooden -settles, a brazen sconce upon the wall, a well-polished floor of -brick, an ebony crucifix, with a small fountain of holy water beneath -it--all objects to which his eyes had been accustomed five or six -months before. The figure he had seen going out, with its quiet, firm -carriage, and easy dignity, was one that he recollected well; and he -asked himself, "Was he really still in the house of Jacques C[oe]ur, -and was the whole episode of Agnes, and Juvenel de Royans, and the -imprisonment, and the torture, and the Duke of Orleans nothing but a -dream?" - - - - -CHAPTER XXX. - - -A week, a fortnight, a month; what are they in the long, long, -boundless lapse of time? A point--a mere point on which the eye of -memory hardly rests in the look-back of a lifetime, unless some of -those marking facts which stamp particular periods indelibly upon the -heart have given it a durable significance. Yet, even in so brief a -space, how much may be done. Circumscribe it as you will--make it a -single hour--tie down the passing of that hour to one particular spot; -and in that hour, and on that spot, deeds may be written on eternity -affecting the whole earth at the time, affecting the whole human race -forever. No man can ever overestimate the value of the actions of an -hour. - -Within the period of Jean Charost's sickness and recovery, up to the -time when he fully regained his consciousness, events had been going -on around him which greatly influenced, not only his fate, but the -fate of mighty nations. The operation, indeed, was not immediate; but -it was direct and clear; and we must pause for a moment in the more -domestic history which we are giving, to dwell upon occurrences of -general importance, without a knowledge of which our tale could hardly -be understood. - -In confusion and dismay, accompanied by few attendants, and in a -somewhat stealthy manner, John of Burgundy fled from Paris, after -making his strange and daring confession of the murder of his near -kinsman, and the brother of his king. - -When informed of the avowal, the Duke of Bourbon, his uncle, and many -other members of the king's council, expressed high displeasure that -the Duke of Berri and the King of Sicily had suffered him to quit the -door of the council-chamber, except as a prisoner; and perhaps those -two princes themselves saw the error they had committed. Had they -acted boldly and decidedly upon the mere sense of justice and right, -France would have been spared many a bloody hour, a disastrous defeat, -and a long subjugation. But when the time of repentance came, -repentance was too late. The Duke of Burgundy was gone, and the tools -of his revenge, though he had boldly named them, had followed their -lord. - -All had gone, as criminals flying from justice, and such was their -terror and apprehension of pursuit, that they threw down spiked balls -in the snow behind them as they went, to lame the horses of those who -might follow. In the course of his flight, however, the Duke of -Burgundy recovered in part his courage and a sense of his dignity. His -situation was still perilous indeed; for he had raised enmity and -indignation against him in the hearts of all the princes of the blood -royal, and of many of the noblest men in France. Nay more, he had -alienated the most sincere and the most honorable of his own -followers, while the king himself, just recovered from one of his -lamentable fits of insanity, was moved by every feeling of affection, -and by the sense of justice and of honor, to punish the shameless -murderer of his brother. - -No preparation of any importance had been made to meet this peril; and -the Duke of Burgundy was saved alone by the hesitating counsels of old -and timid men, who still procrastinated till is was too late to act. - -In the mean time, the murderer determined upon his course. He not only -avowed, but attempted to justify the act upon motives so wild, so -irrational, so destitute of every real and substantial foundation, -that they could not deceive a child, and no one even pretended to be -deceived. He accused his unhappy victim of crimes that Louis of -Orleans never dreamed of--of aiming at the crown--of practicing upon -the health and striking at the life of the king, his brother, by -magical arts and devices. He did all, in short, to calumniate his -memory, and to represent his assassination as an act necessary to the -safety of the crown and the country. At the same time, he sent -messengers to his good citizens of Flanders, to his vassals of Artois, -to all his near relations, to all whom he could persuade or could -command, to demand immediate aid and assistance against the vengeful -sword which he fancied might pursue him, and he soon found himself at -the head of a force with which he might set the power of his king at -defiance. Lille, Ghent, Amiens, bristled with armed men, and John of -Burgundy soon felt that the murder of his cousin had put the destinies -of France into his hands. - -While this was taking place in the north and west, a different scene -was being enacted in Paris; a scene which, if the popular heart was -not the basest thing that ever God created, the popular mind the -lightest and most unreasonable, should have roused the whole citizens -to grief for him whom they had lost, to indignation against his daring -murderer. The Duchess of Orleans, accompanied by her youngest son, -entered Paris as a mourner, and threw herself at the feet of her -brother and her king, praying for simple justice. The will of the -murdered prince was opened; and, though his faults were many and -glaring, that paper showed, the frank and generous character of the -man, and was refutation enough of the vile calumnies circulated -against him. So firm and strong had been his confidence, so full and -clear his intention of maintaining in every respect the agreement of -pacification lately signed between himself and the Duke of Burgundy, -that he left the guardianship of his children to the very man who had -so treacherously caused his assassination. None of his friends, none -who had ever served him, were forgotten, and the tenacity of his -affection was shown by his remembering many whom he had not seen for -years. It was not wonderful, then, that those who knew and loved him -clung to his memory with strong attachment, and with a reverence which -some of his acts might not altogether warrant. It would not have been -wonderful if the generous closing of his life had taught the populace -of Paris to forget his faults and to revere his character. But the -herd of all great cities is but as a pack of hounds, to be cried on by -the voice of the huntsman against any prey that is in view; and the -herd of Paris is more reckless in its fierceness than any other on all -the earth. - -Fortune was with the Duke of Burgundy, and alas! boldness, decision, -and skill likewise. He held a conference with the Duke of Berri, and -the King of Sicily in his own city of Amiens, swarming with his armed -men. He placed over the door of the humble house in which he lodged -two lances crossed, the one armed with its steel head, the other -unarmed, ungarlanded--a significant indication that he was ready for -peace or war. The reproaches of the princes he repelled with -insolence, and treated their counsels and remonstrances with contempt. -Instead of coming to Paris and submitting himself humbly to the king, -as they advised, he marched to St. Denis with a large force, and then, -after a day's hesitation, entered the capital, armed cap-à-pie, amid -the acclamations of the populace. - -The Hôtel d'Artois, already a place of considerable strength, received -additional fortifications, and all the houses round about it were -filled with his armed men; but especial care was taken that the -soldiery should commit no excess upon the citizens, and though he -bearded his king upon the throne, and overawed the royal council, with -the true art of a demagogue he was humble and courteous toward the -lowest citizens, flattered those whom he despised, and eagerly sought -to make converts to his party in every class of society, partly by -corruption, and partly by terror. Wherever he went the people followed -at his heels, shouting his name, and vociferating, "Noël, noël!" and -gradually the unhappy king, oppressed by his own vassal, though adored -by his people, fell back into that lamentable state from which he had -but lately recovered. - -Such was the state of Paris when Jean Charost raised his head, and -gazed around the room in which he was lying. His sight was somewhat -dim, his brain was somewhat dizzy; feeble he felt as infancy; but yet -it was a pleasure to him to feel himself in that little room again, to -fancy himself moving in plain mediocrity, to believe that his -experience of courtly life was all a dream. What a satire upon all -those objects which form so many men's vain aspirations! - -When he had gazed at the window, and at the door, and at all the -little objects that were scattered directly before his eyes, he turned -feebly to look at things nearer to him. He thought he heard a sigh -close to his bedside; but a plain curtain was drawn round the head of -the bed, and he could only see from behind it part of a woman's black -robe falling in large folds over the knee. - -The little rustle that he made in turning seemed to attract the -attention of the watcher. The curtain was gently drawn back, and he -beheld his mother's face gazing at him earnestly. Oh, it was a -pleasant sight; and he smiled upon her with the love that a son can -only feel for a mother. - -"My son--my dear son," she cried; "you are better. Oh yes, you are -better?" And, darting to the door, she called to him who had just gone -out, "Messire Jacques, Messire Jacques. He is awake now; and he knows -me!" - -"Gently, gently, dear lady," said Jacques C[oe]ur, returning to the -room. "We must have great quiet, and all will go well." - -The widow sat down and wept, and the good merchant placed himself by -the young man's side, looked down upon him with a fatherly smile, and -pressed his fingers on the wrist, saying, "Ay, the Syrian drug has -done marvels. Canst thou speak, my son?" - -Jean Charost replied in a voice much stronger than might have been -expected; but Jacques C[oe]ur fell into a fit of thought even while he -spoke, which lasted some two or three minutes, and the young man was -turning toward his mother again, when the good merchant murmured, as -if speaking to himself, "I know not well how to act--there are dangers -every way. Listen to me, my son, but with perfect calmness, and let me -have an answer from your own lips, which I can send to the great man -whose messenger waits below. Two days ago we heard that the Duke of -Burgundy had caused inquiries to be made concerning you, as where you -were to be found, and when you had left the Hôtel d'Orleans. To-day he -has sent a gentleman to inquire if you will take service with him. He -offers you the post of second squire of his body, and promises -knighthood on the first occasion. What do you answer, Jean?" - -Jean Charost thought for a moment, and then laid his hand upon his -brow; but at length he said, "'Twere better to tell him that I am too -ill to answer, or even to think, but that I will either wait upon him -or send him my reply in a few days." - -"Wisely decided," said Jacques C[oe]ur, rising. "That answer will do -right well;" and, quitting the room, he left the door open behind him, -so that the young man could hear him deliver the message word for -word, merely prefacing it by saying, "He sends his humble duty to his -highness, and begs to say--" - -A rough voice, in a somewhat haughty tone, replied, "Is he so very -ill, then, sir merchant? His highness is determined to know in all -cases who is for him and who is against him. I trust you tell me true, -therefore." - -"You can go up, fair sir, and see," replied Jacques C[oe]ur; "but I -must beg you not to disturb him with any talk." - -The other voice made no reply, but the moment after Jean Charost could -hear a heavy step coming up the stairs, and a good-looking man, of a -somewhat heavy countenance, completely armed, but with his beaver up, -appeared in the doorway. He merely looked in, however, and the pale -countenance and emaciated frame of the young gentleman seemed to -remove his doubts at once. - -"That will do," he said. "I can now tell what I have seen. The duke -will expect an answer in a few days. If he dies, let him know, for -there are plenty eager for the post, I can tell you." - -Thus saying, he turned away and closed the door; and Madame De Brecy -exclaimed, "God forbid that you should die, my son, or serve that bad -man either." - -"So say I too," replied Jean Charost. "I know not why you should feel -so regarding him, dear mother, but I can not divest my mind of a -suspicion that he countenanced, if he did not prompt, the death of the -Duke of Orleans." - -"Do you not know that he has avowed it?" exclaimed Madame De Brecy; -but her son's face turned so deadly pale, even to the very lips, that -Jacques C[oe]ur interposed, saying gently, "Beware--beware, dear lady. -He can not bear any such tidings now. He will soon be well enough to -hear all." - -His judgment proved right. From that moment every hour gave Jean -Charost some additional strength; and that very day, before nightfall, -he heard much that imported him greatly to know. He now learned that -the Duchess of Orleans, after a brief visit to the capital to demand -justice upon the murderers of her husband, had judged it prudent to -retire to Blois, and to withdraw all the retainers of the late duke. -Jean Charost, being in no situation to bear so long a journey, she had -commended him especially to the care of Jacques C[oe]ur, who had -ridden in haste to Paris on the news of assassination. He now learned, -also, that one of the last acts of the duke had been to leave him a -pension of three hundred crowns--then a large sum--charged upon the -county of Vertus, and that a packet addressed to him, sealed with the -duke's private signet, and marked, "To be read by his own eye alone," -had been found among the papers at the château of Beauté. - -He would have fain heard more, and prolonged the conversation upon -subjects so interesting to him, but Jacques C[oe]ur wisely refused to -gratify him, and contrived to dole out his information piece by piece, -avoiding, as far as possible, all that could excite or agitate him. A -pleasant interlude, toward the fall of evening, was afforded by the -arrival of Martin Grille, whose joy at seeing his young master roused -from a stupor which he had fancied would only end in death was -touching in itself, although it assumed somewhat ludicrous forms. He -capered about the room as if he had been bit by a tarantula, and in -the midst of his dancing he fell upon his knees, and thanked God and -the blessed Virgin for the miraculous cure of his young lord, which he -attributed entirely to his having vowed a wax candle of three pounds' -weight to burn in the Lady Chapel of the Nôtre Dame in case of Jean -Charost's recovery. It seems that since the arrival of Madame de Brecy -in Paris, she and Martin Grille had equally divided the task of -sitting up all night with her son; and well had the faithful valet -performed his duty, for, without an effort, or any knowledge on his -part, Jean Charost had won the enthusiastic love and respect of one -who had entered his service with a high contempt for his want of -experience, and perhaps some intention of making the best of a good -place. - -Well has it been said that force of character is the most powerful of -moral engines, for it works silently, and even without the -consciousness of those who are subject to its influence, upon all that -approaches it. How often is it that we see a man of no particular -brilliance of thought, of manner, or of expression, come into the -midst of turbulent and unruly spirits, and bend them like osiers to -his will. Some people will have it that it is the clearness with which -his thoughts are expressed, or the clearness with which they are -conceived, the definiteness of his directions, the promptness of his -decisions, which gives him this power; but if we look closely, we -shall find that it is force of character--a quality of the mind which -men feel in others rather than perceive, and which they yield to often -without knowing why. - -The following morning rose like a wayward child, dull and sobbing; but -Jean Charost woke refreshed and reinvigorated, after a long, calm -night of sweet and natural sleep. His mother was again by his bedside, -and she took a pleasure in telling him how carefully Martin Grille had -preserved all his little treasures in the Hôtel d'Orleans, at a time -when the assassination of the duke had thrown all the better members -of the household into dismay and confusion, and left the house itself, -for a considerable time, at the mercy of the knaves and scoundrels -that are never wanting in a large establishment. - -She was interrupted in her details by the entrance of the very person -of whom she spoke, and at the same time loud cries and shouts and -hurras rose up from the street, inducing Jean Charost to inquire if -the king were passing along. - -"No, fair sir," answered Martin Grille. "It is the king's king. But, -on my life, my lord of Burgundy does not much fear rusting his armor, -or he would not ride through the streets on such a day as this." - -"Does he go armed, then?" asked Jean Charost. - -"From head to foot," answered his mother; and Martin Grille added, "He -is seldom without four or five hundred men-at-arms with him. Such a -sight was never seen in Paris. But I must go my ways, and get the news -of the day, for these are times when every man should know whatever -his neighbor is doing." - -"I fear your intelligence must stop somewhat short of that," said Jean -Charost. - -"I shall get all the intelligence I want," replied the valet, with a -sapient nod of the head. "I have a singing bird in the court cage that -always sings me truly;" and away he went in search of news. - -During his absence, a consultation was held between Madame De Brecy, -her son, and Jacques C[oe]ur as to what was to be done in regard to -the message of the Duke of Burgundy. "We have only put off the evil -day," said Jacques C[oe]ur, "and some reply must soon be given." - -"My reply can be but one," answered Jean Charost; "that I will never -serve a murderer; still less serve the murderer of my dear lord." - -Madame De Brecy looked uneasy, and the face of Jacques C[oe]ur was -very grave. - -"You surely would not have me do so, my dear mother?" said the young -gentleman, raising himself on his arm, and gazing in her face. "You -could not wish me, my good and honorable friend?" - -"No, Jean, no," answered Jacques C[oe]ur; "but yet such a reply is -perilous; and before it is made, we must be beyond the reach of the -strong arm that rules all things in this capital. You have had a -taste, my son, of what great men will dare do to those who venture to -oppose them, even in their most unjust commands. Depend upon it, the -Duke of Burgundy will not scruple at acts which the king's council -themselves would not venture to authorize. Why he should wish to -engage you in his service I can not tell; but that he does so -earnestly is evident, and refusal will be very dangerous, even in the -mildest form." - -"Some fanciful connection between my fate and his was told him one -night by an astrologer," said Jean Charost. "That is the only motive -he can have." - -"Perhaps so," replied Jacques C[oe]ur, thoughtfully; and then he -added, the moment after, "and yet I do not know. His highness is not -one to be influenced in his conduct by any visionary things; they may -have weight with him in thought, but not in action. If he had been -told that his death would follow the poor duke's as a natural -consequence, he would have killed him notwithstanding. He must have -seen something in you, my young friend, that he likes--that he thinks -will suit some of his purposes." - -"He has seen little of me that should so prepossess him," answered the -young gentleman; "he has seen me peremptorily refuse to obey his own -commands, and obstinately deny the council the information they -wanted, even though they tried to wring it out by torture." - -"Probably the very cause," answered Jacques C[oe]ur; "he loves men of -resolution. But let us return to the subject, my young friend. Your -answer must be somewhat softened. We must say that you are still too -ill to engage in any service; that you must have some months for -repose, and that then you will willingly obey any of his highness's -just commands." - -"Never, never!" answered Jean Charost, warmly; "I will never palter -with my faith and duty toward the dead. If ever I can couch a lance -against this duke's breast, I will aim it well, and the memory of my -master will steady my arm; but serve him I will never, nor even lead -him to expect it." - -Jacques C[oe]ur and Madame De Brecy looked at each other in silence; -but they urged him no more; and the only question in their minds now -was, what course they could take not to suffer the young man's safety -to be periled in consequence of a resolution which they dared not -disapprove. - -In the midst of their consultation Martin Grille returned, evidently -burdened with intelligence, and that not of a very pleasant character. - -"What is to be done, I know not," he said, with much trepidation; "I -can not, and I will not leave you, sir, whatever may come of it." - -"What is the matter, Martin?" asked Jacques C[oe]ur. "Be calm, be calm -young man, and tell us plainly, whatever be the evil." - -"Listen, then, listen," said Martin Grille, lowering his voice almost -to a whisper. "An order is given out secretly to seize every Orleanist -now remaining in Paris in his bed this night at twelve of the clock. -It is true; it is true, beyond all doubt. I had it from my cousin -Petit Jean, who got it from his father, old Caboche, now the Duke of -Burgundy's right-hand man in Paris." - -"Then we must go at once," said Jacques C[oe]ur "Whatever be the risk, -we must try if you can bear the motion of a litter, Jean." - -"But all the gates are closed except two," said Martin Grille, "and -they suffer no one to go out without a pass. News has got abroad of -all this. The queen went yesterday to Melun. The King of Sicily, the -Duke of Berri, the Duke of Britanny have fled this morning. The Duke -of Bourbon has been long gone, and the Burgundians are resolved that -no more shall escape." - -Jacques C[oe]ur gazed sternly down upon the floor, and Madame De Brecy -wrung her hands in despair. - -"Go, my friend, go," said Jean Charost; "you are not marked out as an -Orleanist. Take my mother with you. God may protect me even here. If -not, his will be done." - -"Stay," cried Martin Grille, "stay! I have thought of a way, perhaps. -Many of these Burgundian nobles are poor. Can not you lend one of them -a thousand crowns, Monsieur Jacques, and get a pass for yourself and -your family. He will be glad enough to give it, to see a creditor's -back turned, especially when he knows he can keep him at arm's length -as long as he will. I am sure my young lord will repay you." - -"Repay me!" exclaimed Jacques C[oe]ur, indignantly; "but your hint is -a good one. I will act upon it, but not exactly as you propose. Some -of them owe me enough already to wish me well out of Paris. Tell all -my people to get ready for instant departure; and look for a litter -that will hold two. I will away at once, and see what can be done." - -"Have plenty of men with you, Messire Jacques," said Martin Grille, -eagerly; "men that can fight, for there are Burgundian bands -patrolling all round the city. I am not good at fighting, and my young -lord is as bad as I am now." - -"We must take our chance," said Jacques C[oe]ur, and quitted the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. - - -It was past ten o'clock at night, when a litter, escorted by four men -on horseback, passed the gates of Paris. A short detention took place -before the guards at the gates would suffer the party to proceed, and -one man went into the guardhouse, and brought out a lantern to examine -the inside of the litter and the countenances of the cavaliers. He -used it also to examine the pass, though, to say truth, he could not -read a word, albeit an officer of some standing. In this respect none -of his companions were in better case than himself; and they all -declared that the handwriting was so bad that nobody on earth could -read it. It seemed likely, at one time, that this illegibility of the -writing, or want of the reading faculty on the part of the guards, -might be made an excuse for detaining the whole party till somebody -with better eyes or better instruction should come up. But one of the -horsemen dismounted, saying, "I will read it to you;" and looking over -the officer's shoulder, he proceeded thus, "I, William, Marquis De -Giac, do hereby strictly enjoin and command you, in the name of the -high and mighty prince, John, duke of Burgundy, to pass safely through -the gates of Paris, without let or impediment, Maître Jacques C[oe]ur, -clerk, his wife, and three serving-men, and to give them aid and -comfort in case of need, signed, De Giac." - -"Is that it?" asked the officer, staring on the paper. - -"Yes, don't you see?" answered Jacques C[oe]ur, pointing with his -finger. "To let pass the gates of the city of Paris." - -"Well, well, go along," said the man; and, mounting his horse again, -the merchant led the way; and the litter, with those that it -contained, followed. - -For a wonder, Martin Grille held his tongue all this time; but ere -they had gone half a dozen furlongs, he approached the side of the -litter, and, putting in his head, asked how his young master was. - -"Better, Martin, better," replied Jean Charost. "Every hour I feel -better." - -"Well, thank God, we are out of the city," said Martin Grille. "My -heart has been so often in my mouth during this last half hour, that I -thought I should bite it if I did but say a word. I wonder which way -we are to direct our steps now." - -"Toward Bourges, Martin," replied Jacques C[oe]ur, who was riding -near. - -"Toward Bourges!" said Martin Grille. "Then what's to become of the -baby?" - -"The baby!" repeated Madame De Brecy, in a tone as full of surprise as -that in which Martin had repeated the words "toward Bourges." - -"In Heaven's name, what baby?" - -Jean Charost laid his hand gently on his mother, saying, "It is very -true, dear mother. A young child--quite an infant--has been given into -my care, and I have promised to protect and educate her." - -"But whose child is she?" asked Madame De Brecy, in a tone of some -alarm and consternation. - -"I can not tell," replied her son. "I believe she is an orphan; but I -am ignorant of all the facts." - -"She is an orphan in a double sense," said Jacques C[oe]ur, mingling -in the discourse; "at least I believe so. I have nothing to guide me -but suspicion, it is true; but my suspicion is strong. Ay, my young -friend: you are surprised that I know aught of this affair; but a -friend's eye is often as watchful as a parent's. I saw the child, some -days after it was given into your charge, and there is a strong -likeness--as strong as there can be between an infant and a grown -person--between this poor thing and one who is no more." - -"Who--who?" asked Jean Charost, eagerly. - -"One whom you never saw," replied Jacques C[oe]ur; and Jean Charost -was silent; for although he himself entertained suspicions, his -friend's words were quite adverse to them. - -"It was well bethought of, Martin," continued Jacques C[oe]ur, after a -short pause. "We had better take our way by Beauté. It is not far -round, and we shall all the sooner get within the posts of the Orleans -party; for they are already preparing for war. We can not take the -child with us, for she is too young to go without a nurse; but we can -make arrangements for her coming hereafter; and of course that which -you promised when in peril of your life had you refused, must be -performed to the letter, my young friend." - -"Assuredly," replied Jean Charost. "Can we reach Beauté to-night?" - -"I fear not," answered the merchant. "But we must go on till we have -put danger behind us. Now draw the curtains of the litter again, and -try to sleep, my son. Sleep is a strange whiler away of weary hours." - -But, though the pace of the horse-litter was drowsy enough, it was -long before any thing like slumber came near the eyes of Jean Charost; -and he had just closed them, with a certain sort of heaviness of the -lids, when the words "Halt, halt, whoever you are!" were heard on all -sides, together with the tramp of many horses, and the jingling of -arms. Madame De Brecy and her son drew back the curtains instantly; -and they then found that they were surrounded by a large party of -men-at-arms, two or three of whom were conversing with Jacques -C[oe]ur, a little in advance. - -The moon had somewhat declined; but it was shining on the faces of -several of the group; and, after gazing out for a moment or two, Jean -Charost exclaimed, "De Royans--Monsieur De Royans!" - -His voice, which was weak, was at first not attended to; but, on -repeating the call, one of the horsemen turned quickly round and rode -up to the side of the litter. - -"Ah, De Brecy, is that you?" cried the young, man, holding out his -hand to him. "Here, Messire What's-your-name, we will believe you now; -for here is one who has suffered enough for his faithfulness to the -good duke. Why, how is this, De Brecy? In a litter--when we want every -man in the saddle. But I heard you were very ill. You must get well -soon, and strike a good stroke beside me and the rest, for the memory -of our good lord, whom they sent to heaven before his time. Oh, if I -could get one blow at that Burgundian's head, I would aim better than -I did at the Quintain. Well, you shall come on with us to Juvisy, and -we will lodge and entertain you." - -Thus saying, Juvenel de Royans turned away, rode back to his -companions, and gave them explanations which seemed satisfactory; for -the merchant and his party were not only suffered to proceed, but -obtained the escort of some forty or fifty men-at-arms, who had been -about to return to Juvisy when they fell in with the little cavalcade -of Jacques C[oe]ur. - -None of the many moral enigmas with which we are surrounded is more -difficult of comprehension to the mind of a man of fixed and resolute -character than the sudden changes which come upon more impulsive and -volatile people. The demeanor of Juvenel de Royans was a matter of -serious and puzzling thought to Jean Charost through the rest of the -journey. He seemed so entirely changed, not only in feelings toward -the young gentleman himself, but in disposition. Frank, active, -impetuous as ever, he had, in the space of a few terrible weeks, lost -the boyish flippancy of manner, and put on the manly character at -once. Jean Charost could not understand it at all; and it seemed to -him most strange that one who would willingly have cut his throat not -a month before, should now, upon the establishment of one very slight -link between them, treat him as a dear and ancient friend. Jean -Charost was less of a Frenchman than Juvenel de Royans, both by birth -and education; for the latter had been born in the gay and movable -south, and had been indulged, if not spoiled, during all his early -life; while the former had first seen the light in much more northern -regions, and had received very early severe lessons of adversity. -Neither, perhaps, had any distinct notion of the real causes of their -former enmity; but Jean Charost was, at least, well satisfied that it -should be terminated; and, as he was of no rancorous disposition, he -gladly received the proffered friendship of his former adversary; -though, to say sooth, he counted it at somewhat less than it was -worth, on account of the suddenness with which it had arisen. He knew -not that some of the trees which spring up the most rapidly are -nevertheless the most valuable. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. - - -Let us abridge and improve French history. As it is generally written, -it is quite susceptible of both abridgment and improvement. - -The power of the Duke of Burgundy was without bounds in the city of -Paris, and his daring and his ferocity were as boundless. He -remembered ancient offenses as tenaciously as the Duke of Orleans had -remembered kindnesses, and every one in Paris who had at any time -shown enmity toward him either sought refuge in flight or stayed to -receive abundant marks of his vindictive memory. But he had skill -also, as well as daring; and especially that dark and politic skill -which teaches the demagogue to turn the best and wisest deeds of an -adversary to his disadvantage in the eyes of the people, and his own -worst actions to the services of his own ambition. Oh, what a fool is -The People! Always the dupe of hypocrisy and lies, always deceived by -promises and pretenses, always the lover and the support of those who -at heart most despise and condemn it. That great, many-headed fool -followed the duke's path with acclamations wherever he appeared, -although the evils under which they labored, notwithstanding all his -promises, were augmented rather than diminished by his sway. - -A hired sophist defended the assassination of the Duke of Orleans, in -presence of the court and the university, and the people shouted -loudly, though the excuse was too empty to deceive a child. The duke -declared that the maladministration of Orleans compelled the -continuance of the taxes promised to be repealed, and the people -shouted loudly still. The Prévôt De Tignonville was punished and -degraded for bringing two robbers to justice, though every one knew -the real offense was his proposal to search the houses of the princes -for the assassins of the Duke of Orleans; and still the people -shouted. - -Nevertheless, fortune was not altogether constant; and while the power -of the duke increased in the capital, let him do whatever he would, a -cloud was gathering round him from which he found it necessary to fly. -The Duchess of Orleans cried loudly for vengeance; the Dukes of -Bourbon, Brittany, and Berri armed for her support, and for the -deliverance of the throne. The queen, having the dauphin with her, -lent weight and countenance to the party, and gradually the forces of -the confederates increased so far that Paris was no longer a safe -asylum for the object of their just indignation. - -It was then that a revolt took place in Liege, where the -brother-in-law of the duke held the anomalous position of prince -bishop; and Burgundy hurried away from Paris both to aid his relation, -and to avoid the advance of the Orleanist army, without risking honor -and power upon an unequal battle. For a short space his position was -perilous. The strong-headed and turbulent citizens of Liege--no soft -and silky burghers, as they are represented by the great novelist in -an after reign--stout and hardy soldiers as ever were, dared the whole -power of Burgundy. An enemy's army was in his rear; all the princes of -the blood, the council, and most of the great vassals of France were -against him; but he fought and won a battle, captured Liege, and -turned upon his steps once more to overawe his enemies in France. - -Time enough had been given for disunion to spread among the allied -princes. William, count of Holland, interfered to gain over the queen -to the Burgundian party, and a hollow peace was brought about, known -as the peace of Chartres, which ended in the ascendency of the Duke of -Burgundy, and the temporary abasement of his enemies. - -Once more the vengeance of the duke was visited on the heads of all -distinguished persons who had shown themselves even indifferent to his -cause; but he forgot not his policy in his anger, and the spoils of -his victims conciliated fresh partisans. - -Intrigue succeeded intrigue for several years, and, in the midst of -disasters and disappointments, the spirit of Valentine, duchess of -Orleans, passed away from the earth (on which she had known little but -sorrow), still calling for justice upon the murderers of her husband. -Her children, however, were powerless at the time and it was not till -the marriage of her eldest son with the daughter of the Count of -Armagnac that the light of hope seemed to break upon them. Then began -that famous struggle between the parties known in history as the -Burgundians and Armagnacs. Paris became its great object of strife, -and, during the absence of the Duke of Burgundy, it was surrounded, if -not actually blockaded by the troops of Armagnac. The Orleanist party -within the walls comprised many of the noblest and most enlightened -men in France; but the lower classes of the people were almost to a -man Burgundians, and, forming themselves into armed bands, under the -leading of John of Troyes, a surgeon, and Simon Caboche, the cutler, -they received the name of Cabochians, and exercised that atrocious -ferocity which is the general characteristic of an ignorant multitude. -There was a reign of terror in Paris in the fifteenth as well as in -the eighteenth century, and many had cause to know that the red scarfs -of Burgundy were dyed in blood. Anarchy and confusion still reigned -within the walls: nor probably was the state of the country much -better. But at length the Duke of Burgundy, unable to oppose his -enemies in the field unaided, sought for and obtained the assistance -of six thousand English archers, and entered Paris in triumph. - -The offensive was soon after taken by the Burgundians, and the Duke of -Berri was besieged in Bourges; but Frenchmen were disinclined to fight -against Frenchmen, and a treaty as hollow as any of the rest was -concluded under the walls of that place. Even while the negotiations -went on, means were taken to open the eyes of the dauphin to the -ambition of the Burgundian prince; and John, _sans peur_, saw himself -opposed in the council by one who had long been subservient to his -will. - -But the duke found easy means to crush this resistance. The people of -Paris were roused, at his beck, into tumult; the Bastile was besieged -by the armed bands of Caboche and his companions, the palace of the -dauphin invaded, and he himself reduced to the state of a mere -prisoner. More bloodshed followed; and Burgundy at length found that -an enraged multitude is not so easily calmed as excited. His situation -became somewhat difficult. Although the dauphin was shut up in the -Hôtel St. Pol, he found means of communicating with the princes of the -blood royal without; and nothing seemed left for the Duke it Burgundy -but an extension of the convention of Bourges to a general peace with -all his opponents. This was concluded at Pontoise, much against the -will of the Parisians; the dauphin was set at liberty; and the leaders -of the Armagnac party were permitted to enter Paris. Burgundy soon -found that he had made a mistake; that his popularity with the people -was shaken, and his power over them gone. He was even fearful for his -person; and well might he be so. But his course was speedily -determined; and, after having failed in an attempt to carry off the -dauphin while on a party of pleasure at Vincennes, he retired in haste -to Flanders. - -A complete change of scene took place; the creatures of the Duke of -Burgundy were driven from power, and sanguinary retribution marked the -ascendency of the Armagnac party. - -The easiest labor of Hercules, probably, was the destruction of the -hydra; for creatures with many heads are always weaker than those with -one. Dissensions spread among the Armagnac faction. The queen and the -dauphin disagreed; and the prince, finding the tyranny of the -Armagnacs as hard to bear as that of the Burgundians, instigated the -duke to return to Paris. John without fear, however, had not force -sufficient to effect any great purpose; and, after an ineffectual -attempt to besiege the capital, he retired before a large army, -gathered from all parts of France, with the king and all the princes -of the blood at its head. Compiegne capitulated to the Armagnacs; -Soissons was taken by assault; but Arras held out, and once more -negotiations for peace commenced under its walls. A treaty was -concluded by the influence of the dauphin, who was weary of being the -shuttle-cock between two factions, and resolved to make himself master -of the capital. His first effort, however, was frustrated, and he was -compelled to fly to Bourges. With great adroitness, he then took -advantage of a proposed conference at Corbeil between himself and the -allied princes. He agreed to the meeting; but while they waited for -him at Corbeil, he passed quietly on to Paris, made himself master of -the capital, and seized the treasures which his mother had accumulated -in that city. Three parties now appeared in France: that of the Duke -of Burgundy; that of the allied princes; and that of the dauphin; and -in the mean while, an acute enemy, with some just pretensions to -certain portions of France, and unfounded claims to the crown itself, -was watching from the shores of England for a favorable moment to -seize upon the long-coveted possession. From the time of the treaty of -Bretigny, wars and truces had succeeded each other between the two -countries--hostilities and negotiations; and during the late -dissensions, English alliance had been sought and found by both -parties; but, at the same time, long discussions had taken place -between the courts of France and England with the pretended object of -concluding a general and definitive treaty of peace. Henry demanded -much, however; France would grant little; offensive words were added -to the rejection of captious proposals and suddenly the news spread -over the country like lightning, that Henry the Fifth of England had -landed in arms upon the coast of France. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. - - -A few miles from the strong town of Bourges, on the summit of a -considerable elevation, was a château or castle, even then showing -some signs of antiquity. It was not a very large and magnificent -dwelling, consisting merely of the outer walls with their flanking -towers, one tall, square tower, and one great mass stretching out into -the court, and rising to the height of two stories. In a small, plain -chamber, containing every thing useful and convenient, but nothing -very ornamental, sat a young gentleman of three or four-and-twenty -years of age, covered with corselet and back piece, but with his head -and limbs bare of armor. Two men, however, were busily engaged fitting -upon him the iron panoply of war. One was kneeling at his feet, -fastening the greaves upon his legs; the other stood behind, attaching -the pauldrons and pallets. On a table hard by stood a casque and -plume, beside which lay the gauntlets, the shield, and the sword; and -near the table stood a lady, somewhat past the middle age, gazing -gravely and anxiously at the young man's countenance. - -But there was still another person in the room. A young girl of some -six or seven years of age had climbed up upon the gentleman's knee, -and, was making a necklace for him of her arms, while ever and anon -she kissed him tenderly. - -"You must come back, Jean--you must come back," she said; "though dear -mother says perhaps you may never come back--you must not leave your -own little Agnes. What would she do without you?" - -Jean Charost embraced her warmly, but he did not speak; for there were -many emotions in his heart which he feared might make his voice -tremble. Few who had seen him six or seven years before would have -recognized in that tall, powerful young man, the slim, graceful lad -who was secretary to the unfortunate Duke of Orleans; nor was the -change, perhaps, less in his mind than in his person, for although he -was of that character which changes slowly, yet all characters change. -The oak requires a hundred years; the willow hardly twenty; and as one -layer or circle grows upon another in the heart of the tree, so do new -feelings come over man's spirit as he advances from youth to age. Each -epoch in human life has the things pertaining to itself. The boy can -never divine what the man will feel; the man too little recollects -what were the feelings of the boy. - -However, the change in Jean Charost, in consequence of the -circumstances in which he had been placed, was somewhat different from -that which might have been expected. He had become tenderer rather -than harder in the last seven years, more flexible rather than more -rigid. Till between seventeen and eighteen years of age, hard -necessities, constant application, the everlasting dealing with -material things, the guard which he had been continually forced to put -upon himself--knowing that not only his own future fate might be -darkened, but the happiness and deliverance of a parent might be lost -by one false step--had all tended to give him an unyouthful sternness -of principle and of demeanor, which had perhaps saved him from many -evils, but had deprived him of much innocent enjoyment. - -Since the death of the Duke of Orleans, however, acting altogether as -his own master, seeing more of the general world, and with his mind -relieved from the oppressive cares and anxieties which may be said to -have frozen his youth, he had warmed, as it were, in the sunshine, and -all the more gentle things of the heart had come forth and blossomed. -I know not whether the love of that dear, beautiful child had not -greatly aided the change--whether his tenderness for her, and her -adoring fondness for him, had not called out emotions, natural but -latent, and affections which only wanted something to cling round. -Whenever he returned from any of the scenes of strife and trouble in -which he embarked with the rest, one of his first thoughts was of -Agnes. When he approached the gates of the old castle, his eyes were -always lifted to see her coming to meet him. When he sought a time of -repose in the plain and unadorned halls of his father, no gorgeous -tapestry, no gilded ceiling, no painted gallery could have ornamented -the place so well as the smiles of that sweet, young face. The balmy -influence of innocent childhood was felt by him very strongly. - -He was very indulgent toward her. His mother said he spoiled her. But -he used to laugh joyfully, and declare that nothing could spoil his -little Agnes; and, in truth, with him she was ever gentle and docile, -seeming to love obedience to his lightest word. - -And now he was going to leave her--to leave all he held most dear in -life for a long much--for a fierce strife--for a struggle on which the -fate of France depended. He was not without hope, he was not without -confidence; but if almost all men feel some shade of dread when -parting from a well-loved home on any ordinary occasion--if a chilling -conviction of the dreary uncertainty of all earthly things comes upon -them even--what must have been his sensations when he thought of all -that might happen between the hours of parting and returning? - -But the trumpet had sounded throughout the land. Every well-wisher of -his country was called upon to forget his domestic ties, and selfish -interests, and private quarrels, and arm to repel an invader. The -appeal was to the hearts of all Frenchmen, and he must go. Nay more, -he had taxed his utmost means, he had mortgaged the very bequest of -the Duke of Orleans, he had done every thing--but impoverish his -mother--in order to carry with him as many men as possible to swell -the hosts of France. - -The last piece of his armor was buckled on--Martin Grille took up the -casque--a cup of wine was brought, and Jean Charost embraced his -mother and the child. - -"How hard your breast is, Jean," said the little girl. - -"None too hard," said the mother. "God be your shield, my son. He is -better than sword or buckler." - -"Amen!" said Jean Charost, and left them. - -Now let us change the scene once more, for this must be a chapter of -changes. Stand upon this little hill with me, beside the great oak, -and let us look on, as day breaks over the fair scene below us. See -how beautifully the land slopes away there on the north, with the -wooded heights near Blangy, and the church steeple on the rise of the -hill, and the old castle hard by. How the light catches upon it, even -before the day is fully risen! Even that piece of marshy ground, -sloping gently up into a meadow, with a deep ditch cut here and there -across it, acquires something like beauty from the purple light of the -rising sun. There is a little coppice there to the westward, with a -wind-mill, somewhat like that at Creçy, waving its slow arms on the -gentle morning breeze. How peaceful it all looks; how calm. Can this -narrow space, this tranquil scene, be the spot on which the destiny of -a great kingdom is to be decided in an hour? - -So, perhaps, thought a man placed upon the hill near Blangy, as he -looked in the direction of Azincourt, one half of the steeple of which -could be seen rising over the slope. Soon, however, that quiet scene -became full of life. He saw a small body of some two hundred men run -rapidly along under cover of the coppice, bending their heads, with no -apparent arms, except what seemed an ax slung upon the shoulder of -each. They carried long slim wands in their hands, it is true; but to -the eye those wands were very unserviceable weapons. They reached the -edge of a ditch upon the meadow, and there they disappeared. A loud -flourish of martial music followed, and soon after, from behind the -wood, came on, in steady array, a small body of soldiery. They could -not have numbered more than one or two thousand men at the very most, -and little like soldiers did they look, except in the even firmness of -their line. There was no glittering steel to be seen. Casque and -corselet, spear and banner were not there. Not even the foot-soldier's -jack and morion could be descried among them; but, tattered, -travel-worn, and many of them bare-headed, they advanced, with heavy -tramp and steady countenance, in the same direction which had been -taken by the others. The same long wands were in their hands, and each -bore upon his shoulder a heavy, steel-pointed post, while a short -sword or ax hung upon the thigh, and a well-stored quiver was within -reach of the right hand. Before them rode a knight on horseback, with -a truncheon in his hand, and behind them still, as they marched on, -sounded the war-stirring trumpet. - -The face of the man who stood there and watched was very pale, either -with fear or some other emotion, and every now and then he approached -a tree to which three horses were tied--one of which was fully -caparisoned for war--examined the bridles, and saw that all was right, -as if he were anxious that every thing should be ready, either for -strife or flight. While he was thus employed, two other men came up, -slowly climbing the hill from the eastward; but there was nothing in -the appearance of either to give any alarm to him who was watching -there. The one was a round, short personage, with a countenance on -which nature had stamped cheerful good-humor, though his eyes had now -in them an expression of wild anxiety, which showed that he knew what -scene was about to be enacted below. The other was a tall, gaunt man, -far past the middle age, but his face betrayed no emotion. It was -still and pale as that of death, and changed not even after they had -reached a point where the whole array of the field was set out before -them. His brow, however, wore a heavy frown; but that expression -seemed habitual, and not produced by any transitory feeling. Both the -strangers were habited in the long, gray gown of the monk, with a -girdle of plain cord, and the string of beads attached; besides which, -the elder man carried in his hand a staff, and a large ebony crucifix. - -The moment their heads rose above the slope, so that they could see -over into the plain beyond, the younger and the stouter man stopped -suddenly, with a look of some alarm, as if the moving mass of soldiery -had been close to him. "Jesu Maria!" he exclaimed; "are those the -English, brother Albert? I did not know they were half to near." - -The other answered nothing, and his countenance changed not while his -eye ran over the whole country beneath him, with the calm, deliberate, -marking look of a man who had beheld such scenes before. - -Suddenly, on the right, over the tops of the trees, rose up a dense -cloud of smoke, which, rolling in large volumes into the air, became -tinged with a dark red hue, and speckled with sparks of fire. - -"What is that? what is that?" cried the younger monk. "That must be -some place on fire at Aubain." - -"No, no," replied the other, speaking for the first time; "that is -much nearer. It is either at Teneur, or at the farm of our priory of -St. George. Can the English king have thrown out his right wing so far -in order to take our army on the flank? If so, one charge would ruin -him. But no; he is too wise for that. It must be a stratagem to -deceive the Constable." - -As he spoke, the first comer moved away from the horses and joined -them, saying, "God help us! this is a terrible scene, good fathers." - -The elder monk gazed at him with his motionless countenance, but -answered nothing; and the younger one replied, much in his own tone, -"A terrible scene, indeed, my son--a terrible scene, indeed! I know -not whether it be more so to stand as a mere spectator, and witness -such a sight as will soon be before us, or to mingle in the fray, and -lose part of its horrors by sharing in its fury." - -"Oh, I have no doubt which," answered the other. "My mind is quite -made up on that subject." - -"You may be a man of war," replied the other. "Indeed, these armed -horses seem to speak it." - -"No. I am a man of peace," rejoined the first-comer. "Those horses are -my master's, not mine; and the fighting is his too. But he knows my -infirmity, and leaves me here out of arrow-shot. The boy who was with -me has run down the hill, to be nearer to our lord; but I, as in duty -bound, stay where he placed me. I should like very much to know, -however, what is the name of that farm-house and the two or three -cottages there, at the edge of the meadow, with the deep ditch across -it." - -"That is called Tramecourt," replied the younger monk. "It is but a -small hamlet; and I heard this morning that our riotous soldiers had -driven all the people out of it, and eaten up all their stores. Why do -you ask, my son?" - -"Because I saw but now some two or three hundred men, coming from the -side of Blangy, run down by the willows there, and disappear in the -ditch." - -"God's retribution!" said the elder monk, gravely. "Had not the -soldiery driven out the peasantry, there would have been men to bear -the news of the ambush." - -"Think you it is an ambush, then?" asked the younger monk. - -"Beyond doubt," replied the other; "and he who would do a good service -to the army of France would mount yon horse, ride down toward -Azincourt, and carry the tidings to the constable." - -As he spoke, he fixed his eyes upon their lay companion, who seemed a -little uneasy under their gaze. He fidgeted, pulled the points of his -doublet, and then said, sturdily, "Well, I can not go. I must stay -with the horses." - -"Are you a coward?" asked the elder monk, in a low, bitter tone. - -"Yes," replied the man, nonchalantly. "I am a desperate coward--have -been so all my life. I have a reverent regard for my own skin, and no -fondness for carving that of other people. If men have a peculiar -fancy for poking holes in each other's bodies, I do not quarrel with -them for it. Indeed, I do not quarrel with any one for any thing; but -it is not my taste: it is not my trade. Why should I make eyelet-holes -in nature's jerkin, or have myself bored through and through, like a -piece of timber under an auger?" - -"Well, my son, wilt thou let me have a horse, that I may ride down and -tell the constable?" asked the shorter of his two companions. - -"There is hardly time," said the elder monk. "See, here comes a larger -body of archers from the side of Blangy, and I can catch lance heads -and banners rising up by Azincourt. The bloody work will soon begin." - -"I would fain try, at all events," cried the other. "Man, wilt thou -let me have a horse? I will bring him back to thee in half an hour, if -ever I come back alive myself." - -"Take him, take him," answered the other. "I am not the man to stop -you. How could I resist two monks and three horses. Not the -destrier--not the battle-horse. That is my lord's. Here, take the -page's. Let me help thee on, father. Thou art so fat in the nether end -that thou wilt never get up without a ladder. One time I was as bad a -horseman as thyself, and so I have compassion on thy foibles. Have -thou some upon mine." - -The monk was soon settled in the saddle, and away he went down the -hill, showing himself a better horseman, when once mounted, than the -other had given him credit for. - -As soon as he was gone, the elder monk fixed his eyes once more upon -his companion, and said, in a low voice, "Have I not seen thee -somewhere before?" - -"I can't tell," answered the other. "I have seen you, I fancy; but if -so, you gave no sign of seeing me, either by word or look. However, I -am Martin Grille, the valet of the good Baron de Brecy. Perhaps that -may give your memory a step to climb upon." - -"It needs no step," answered the other. "I am all memory. Would to God -I were not." - -"Ay, now you look more as you did then, though not half so mad -either," said Martin Grille. "You are older, too, and your cowl makes -a difference." - -"And there is a difference," replied the monk, in a tone of deep -sadness. "Penitence and prayer, remorse and anguish--sated revenge, -perhaps--a thirst assuaged--a thirst such as no desert traveler ever -knew, quenched in blood and tears; all these have changed me. The fire -has gone out. I am nothing but the ashes of my former self." - -"Rather hot ashes, even yet," answered Martin Grille, "if I may judge -by what you said about my cowardice just now. But look, look, good -father. What will become of our fat brother there? Why he is riding -right before that strong body of lances coming up from Blangy." - -"He does not see them," answered the other, gravely. "He may reach the -constable, even yet; for lo, now! there comes the power of France over -the hill; and England on to meet her. By the holy rood! they make a -gallant show, these great noblemen of France. Why, what a sea of -archery and men-at-arms is here, with plumes and banners, lance and -shield, and pennons numberless. I have seen many a stricken fight, and -never but at Poictiers saw fairer array than that." - -"Why, they will sweep the English from the face of the earth," said -Martin Grille. "If that be all King Henry's power, it is but a morsel -for the maw of such a monster as is coming down from Azincourt." - -The monk turned toward him, and shook his head. "You know not these -Englishmen," he said, with a sigh. "When brought to bay, they fight -like wolves. I have heard my father tell of Creçy; and at Poictiers I -was a page. On each field we outnumbered them as here, and at -Poictiers we might have had them on composition had it pleased the -king. But we forced them to fight, and fight they did, till the -multitude fled before a handful, and order and discipline did what -neither numbers nor courage could effect. Look you now, how skillfully -this English king has chosen his place of battle, unassailable on -either flank, showing a narrow front to his enemy, so as to render -numbers of no avail. God send that they may not prove destructive." - -"Ah, he is too late!" replied Martin Grille who had been watching the -course of the other monk, who was riding straight toward the head of -the ditch, where he had seen the archers conceal themselves. "He is -too late, I fear." - -His exclamation was caused by sudden movements observable in both -armies. The English force had been advancing slowly in three bodies, -each looking but a handful as compared with the immense forces of -France, but in firm and close array, with little of that ornament and -decoration which gilds and smoothes the rugged reality of war; but -with many instruments of music playing martial airs, and seeming to -speak of hope and confidence. - -The French, on the other hand, who had lain quiet all the morning, as -if intending to wait the attack of the enemy, had just spread out upon -the slope in face of Azincourt, divided likewise into three vast -bodies, with their wings overlapping, on either side, the flank of the -English force. Splendid arms and glittering accoutrements made the -whole line shine and sparkle; but not a sound was heard from among -them, except now and then the shout of a commander. At the moment of -Martin Grille's exclamation, the advanced guard of the French had -assumed a quicker pace, and were pouring down upon the English -archery, as they marched up through a somewhat narrow space, inclosed -between low thick copse, hedges, and swampy ground. This narrow field -forked out gradually, becoming wider and wider toward the centre of -the French host; and the English had just reached what we may call the -mouth of the fork, with nearly fifteen thousand French men-at-arms, -and archers before them, under the command of the constable in person. -Slowly and steadily the Englishmen marched on, till within half -bow-shot of the French line, headed by old Sir Thomas of Erpingham, -who rode some twenty yards before the archery, with a page on either -side, and nothing but a baton in his hand. When near enough to render -every arrow certain of its mark, the old knight waved his truncheon in -the air, and instantly the whole body of foot halted short. At the -same moment, each man planted before him the spiked stake which he -carried in his hand, and laid an arrow on the string of his bow. A -dead silence prevailed along each line, unbroken except by the tramp -of the advancing French. Sir Thomas of Erpingham looked along the -line, from right to left, and then exclaimed, in a loud, powerful -voice, "Now strike!" throwing his truncheon high into the air, and -dismounting from his horse. Instantly, from the ditch on the left -flank of the French, rose up the concealed archers, with bows already -drawn; and well might Martin Grille exclaim that the monk was too -late. The next instant, from one end of the English line to the other, -ran the tremendous cheer which has so often been the herald of victory -over land and sea; and the next, a flight of arrows as thick as hail -poured right into the faces of the charging enemy. Knights and -squires, and men-at-arms bowed their heads to the saddle-bow to avoid -the shafts; but on they still rushed, each man directing his horse -straight against the narrow front of the English, and pressing closer -and closer together, so as to present one compact mass, upon which -each arrow told. Nor did that fatal flight cease for an instant. -Hardly was one shaft delivered before another was upon the string, -and, mad with pain, the horses of the French cavalry reared and -plunged among the crowd, creating as much destruction and disarray as -even the missiles of their foe. - -All then became a scene of strange confusion to the eyes of Martin -Grille. The two opposing forces seemed mingled together. The English, -he thought, were forced back, but their order seemed firmer than that -of the French line, where all was struggling and disarray. Here and -there a small space in one part of the field would become -comparatively clear, and then he would see a knight or squire dragged -from his horse, and an archer driving the point of his sword between -the bars of his helmet. The figure of the monk was no longer to be -discerned, for he had long been enveloped in the various masses of -light cavalry and camp-followers which whirled around the wings of the -French army--of little or no service in the battle to those whom they -Served, and only formidable to an enemy in case of his defeat. - -The monk, who stood beside Martin Grille, remained profoundly silent, -though his companion often turned his eye toward him with an inquiring -look, as if he would fain have asked, "How, think you, goes the -strife?" But, though no words were uttered, many were the emotions -which passed over his countenance. At first all was calm, although -there was a straining of the eye beneath the bent brow, like that of -the eagle gazing down from its rocky eyrie on the prey moving across -the plain below. Then came a glance of triumph, as some two or three -hundred of the French men-at-arms dashed on before their companions, -and hurled themselves upon the English line, in the vain effort to -break the firm array of the archery. But when he saw the troops -mingling together, and the heavy pressure of the French chivalry one -upon the other, each impeding his neighbor, and leaving no room for -any one but those in the front rank to strike a blow, his brow grew -dark, his eye anxious, and his lip quivered. For a moment more, he -continued silent; but then, when he saw the English arrows dropping -among the ranks of his countrymen, the horses rearing and falling with -their riders, to be trampled under the feet of those who pressed -around--some, maddened with pain, tearing through all that opposed -them, and carrying terror and confusion into the main body -behind--some urged by fearful riders at the full gallop from a field -which they fancied lost, because it was not instantly won, he could -bear no more, but exclaimed, sharply and sternly, "They will lose the -day!" - -"But all that vast number coming down the hill have not yet struck a -stroke," cried Martin Grille. - -"Where can they strike?" said the monk, sternly. "Were the field -cleared of their friends, they might yet do something with their foes. -See, the banner of Alençon is down, and where is that of Brabant? I -see it no more." - -He gazed for a moment more, and then exclaimed, "On my life! they are -flying--flying right into the centre of the main battle, to carry the -infection of their fear with them!" - -As he spoke, two or three horsemen, in mad haste, galloped up the hill -directly toward them, and Martin Grille sprang to the side of the -horses, unfastened one of them, and put his foot in the stirrup. - -"Fool! they will not hurt thee," said the monk "'Tis their own lives -they seek to save;" and, stretching out his arms across the path by -which the men-at-arms were coming, he exclaimed, fiercely, -"Cowards--cowards! back to the battle for very shame!" - -But they galloped on past him, one with an arrow through his shoulder, -and one with the crest of his casque completely shorn off. The third -struck a blow with a mace at the monk as he passed, but it narrowly -missed him; and on he too rode, with a bitter curse upon his lips. - -By this time it was no longer doubtful which way the strife would go -between the advance-guard of the French and that of the English army. -The former was all in disarray, and parties scattering away from it -every instant, while the latter was advancing steadily, supported by a -large body of pikes and bill-men, who now appeared in steady order -from behind some of the tall trees of the wood. Just then, through the -bushes which lay scattered over the bottom of the slope, a group was -seen coming up the hill, so slowly that their progress could hardly be -called flight. At first neither Martin Grille nor the monk could -clearly perceive what they were doing, for the branches, covered with -thin, dry October leaves, partly intercepted the view. Soon, however, -they emerged upon more open ground, and three or four men on foot -appeared, closely surrounding a caparisoned horse, which one of them -led by the bridle, while another, walking by the stirrup, seemed to -have his arm around the waist of the rider. An instant after, a -mounted man in a gray gown appeared from among the bushes, paused by -the side of the little party, and was seen pointing upward toward the -hill. - -"Brother Albert and a wounded knight," said the monk, taking a step or -two forward. - -"Good Lord! I hope it is not my young master," cried Martin Grille, -clasping his hands together. "Oh, if he would but stay at home and -keep quiet! I am sure his mother would bless the day." - -The monk hardly listened to him, for he was gazing with an eager and -anxious look upon the group below; then, suddenly turning to the -varlet, he asked, in a sharp, quick tone, "Has thy young lord any -children?" - -"None of his own," answered Martin Grille; "but one whom he has -adopted--a fairy little creature, as beautiful as a sunbeam, whom they -call Agnes. He could not love her better were she his own." - -"God will bless him yet," said the monk; and then added, sharply, "Why -stand you here? It is your lord; go down and help." And he himself -hurried down the slope to meet the advancing party. - -With his casque cleft open by an ax, an arrow through his right arm, a -spear-hole in his cuirass, and the blood dropping over his coat of -arms, Jean Charost, supported by one of his retainers, on whose -shoulder his head rested, was borne slowly up the hill. His face could -not be seen, for his visor was closed, but there was an expression of -deep sadness on the faces of the two or three men who surrounded him, -which showed that they thought the worst had befallen. - -"Is he dead?" asked the old monk, looking at the man who led the -horse. - -"I can't tell, father," replied the soldier, gruffly. "He has not -spoken since we got him out of the fray. Here is one who has done his -duty, however. Oh, if they had all fought as he did!" - -"I think he is not dead," said the other monk, riding up. "You see his -hand is still clasped upon the rein, and once, I thought, he tried to -raise his head." - -"Bear him on--bear him on behind the trees," cried the older man, "and -get the horses out of sight. He is not dead--his hand moves. How goes -it, my son? How goes it? Be of good cheer." - -A low groan was the only reply; but that was sign sufficient that life -was not extinct, and Jean Charost was carried gently forward to a spot -behind the trees, well concealed from the field of battle. The old -monk, before he followed, paused to take one more look at the bloody -plain of Azincourt. By this time, the main body of the French army was -in as great disorder as the advanced-guard, while the English forces -were making way steadily with the royal banner floating in the air. - -"All is lost," murmured the monk. "God help them! they have cast away -a great victory." - -When he reached the little spot to which Jean Charost had been -carried, the men were lifting him gently from his horse, and laying -him down on the dry autumnal grass. His casque was soon removed; but -his eyes were closed, and his breathing was slow and uneven. There was -a deep cut upon his head; but that which seemed robbing him of life -was the lance wound in his chest, and, with hurried hands, the two -monks unclasped the cuirass and back-piece, and applied themselves to -stanch the blood. - -"It has gone very near his heart," said the elder monk. - -"No, no," replied the other; "it is too far to the side. You -understand fighting better than I, Brother Albert, but I know more -surgery than you. Here, hold your hand firmly here, one of you men, -and give me up that scarf. Some one run down to the brook and get -water. Take his bassinet--take his bassinet. We must call him out of -this swoon before it is too late." - -Martin Grille seized up his master's casque, and impulsively ran away -toward the brook, which took its rise about two thirds of the way down -the hill. When he came in sight of the battle-field, however, he -stopped suddenly short, with all his old terrors rushing upon him; but -the next instant love for his young lord overcame all other -sensations, and he plunged desperately down the slope, and filled the -bassinet at the fountain. - -"Help me, Martin! help me!" said a voice near; and looking up, he saw -the young page, who had followed his lord down the hill. - -"Here, boy, come along," cried Martin Grille. "What, are you hurt, you -young fool?" - -"Yes, sorely," replied the boy. "While trying to cover the baron, the -first time he was thrown from his horse, they hacked me with their -swords. But I shall never see him again; he is dead now." - -"Give me your hand--give me your hand," cried Martin Grille. "He is -not dead; so take good heart. But I must hurry back with this water; -so put forth what strength you have left." - -Dragging the page along with one hand, and holding the bassinet in the -other, Martin contrived to climb the hill again, and reach the spot -where De Brecy lay. The younger monk immediately took a handful of the -water, and dashed it in the wounded man's face. A shudder passed over -him, and then he opened his eyes and looked faintly round. - -"Now some drops of this sovereign balsam," said the younger monk, -taking a vial from his pocket. "Open your lips, my son, and let me -drop it in." - -He had to repeat his words before the wounded man comprehended them; -but when the drops had been administered, a great change took place -very rapidly. The light came back into Jean Charost's eyes, and he -said, though faintly, "Where am I? Who has won?" - -"How goes it, my son--how goes it?" asked the elder monk, bending over -him, with his cowl thrown back. - -"But feebly, father," answered Jean Charost. "Hah! is that you?" - -"Even so," answered the monk. "But cheer up; you shall not die. We -will take you to our priory of St. George of Hesdin, and soon give -you health again." - -"Alas!" said Jean Charost, raising his hand feebly, and letting it -drop again, "I have no strength to move. But how goes the battle? If -France have lost, let me lie here and die." - -"We can not tell," answered the younger monk. "The battle still rages -fiercely. Here, hold this crucifix in your hand, and let me examine -the wound. 'Tis not bleeding so fast," he continued. "Take some more -of these drops; they will give you strength again." - -"Ah, Perot; poor boy!" said Jean Charost, suffering his eyes to glance -feebly round till they rested upon the page, who was leaning against a -tree. "Attend to him, good father. He must be wounded sorely. He saved -my life when first I was dashed down by that blow upon my head." - -"Take this first yourself," rejoined the monk, "or the master will go -where the page will not like to follow." - -Jean Charost made no resistance; and the monk then turned to the young -boy, examined and bound up his wounds, and administered to him -likewise some of the elixir in which he seemed to put so much faith. -Nor did it seem undeserving of his good opinion; for again the effect -upon Jean Charost was very great, and he said, in a stronger voice, -"Methinks I shall live." - -"Can we not contrive to make some litter?" said the elder monk, -looking to the men who had aided their young lord up the hill. - -"We will try," said one of them; and taking an ax which hung upon his -shoulder, he began to cut down some of the sapling trees. Ere the -materials were collected, however, to make a litter, there came a -sound of horses feet going at a slow trot, and an instant after a -small party of horse appeared. - -"Ha! who have we here?" cried the man at their head. "A French knight, -wounded! God save you, sir. I trust you will do well; but you must -surrender, rescue or no rescue, and give your faith thereon." - -As he spoke, he dismounted and approached the little group, holding -out his hand to Jean Charost. - -"There is no help for it," answered the wounded man, giving him his -hand. "Rescue or no rescue, I do surrender." - -"Your name is the next thing," replied the English officer. - -"Jean Charost, Baron de Brecy," replied the young man. "I pray you -tell me how goes the battle?" - -"It is over, sir," answered the Englishman. "God has been pleased to -bless our arms. Your men will surrender, of course." - -With them, too, there was no help for it, as there were some twenty or -thirty spears around the them; and when they had given their pledge, -the officer, an elderly man, turned again to Jean Charost, saying, in -a kindly tone, "You are badly hurt, sir, and I am sure have done your -_devoir_ right knightly for your king and country. I can not stay to -tend you; but these good fathers will have gentle care of you, I am -sure. When you are well, inquire for the Lord Willoughby. You will not -find him hard to deal with. The parole of a gentleman with such wounds -as these is worth prison bars of three inch thickness;" and thus -saying, he remounted his horse and rode away. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. - - -A few brief glimpses, if you please, dear reader--quiet, and calm, and -cool, like the early sunshine of a clear autumn day--a few brief -glimpses, to throw some light upon a lapse of several years. - -It may be asked why are not the events of those years recorded? Why -are we not carried through the details of a history in which the -writer, at least, must have some interest? In every life, as in every -country which one passes through, there come spots of dull monotony, -where the waters stagnate on the heavy flats, and to linger among them -is dangerous to active existence. I say, in every life there are these -flats at some period or another; for I can recall none in memory or in -history, where they have not been found--none where all has been -mountain and valley. - -Take the most active life that ever was, that of Napoleon Bonaparte; -carry him from the military school to the command of armies; go with -him along his comet-like career, from glory to glory up to the zenith -of his power, and then on his course down to the horizon with fierce -rapidity. You come to the rock in the Atlantic, and the dull lapse of -impotence and captivity at last! - -In a cell, in the small priory of St. George of Hesdin, and on the -pallet bed of one of the monks, lay a young gentleman pale and wan, -but still with the light of reviving life in his eyes. By his side was -seated a tall, thin old man, or if not very old in years, old in the -experience of sorrows. - -'Tis a strange thing, this life, and all connected with it--time, and -joy, and grief, and fear, and hope, and appetite, and satiety! Very, -very strange! The wise Eastern people have said that at the root of -the Tree of Life lie two worms continually preying on it: the one -black, the other white. But alas, alas! there is many another maggot, -piercing the bark, eating into the core, drying up the sap, bringing -on decay and instruction. I have named a few of them. - -One of the most blessed conceptions of the soul is, that in its -immortality none of these things can touch it. - -He seemed an old man, though probably he had not yet seen near sixty -years of age; but there were upon his face many harsh lines--not such -as are drawn by hard carking cares and petty anxieties--not such as -are imprinted on the face by the claws of grasping, mercenary -selfishness; but the deep strong brands of burning passions, fierce -griefs, fierce joys, and strong unruly thoughts. Yet the eye was -subdued. There was not the light in it that had once been there--the -wild, eager light, too intense to be fully sane. There was sadness -enough, but little fire. - -It would seem that the two--they were the only tenants of the -cell--had been talking for some time, and that one of those pauses had -taken place in which each man continues for himself the train of -thought suggested by what has gone before. The old man looked down -upon the ground, with his shaggy eyebrows overhanging his eyes. The -young man looked up, as if catching inspiration from above. It was -Hope and Memory. At length the old man spoke. - -"When one looks back," he said, "upon the path of life, we lose in the -mistiness of the distance a thousand objects which have influenced its -course. We see it turn hither and thither, and wonder that we took not -a course more direct to our end. We perceive that we have gone far out -of the way; but the obstacles are not seen that were, or seemed -insurmountable--the stream, too deep to be forded--the rock, too high -to be scaled--the thicket, too dense to be penetrated; and the mists -and darkness too--the mists and darkness of the mind, forever blinding -us to the right way. Oh, my son, my son, beware of the eyesight of -passion; for you know not how false and distorting it is. The things -as plain as day become all dim and obscure, false lights glare around -us, and nothing is real but our own sensations." - -Jean Charost smiled. "I have escaped as yet, father," he said. "It is -true, indeed, that when I look back on some passages of my life--on -the actions of other men, and on my own--I sometimes wonder how I -could view the things around me as I did at the time, and all seems to -me as if I had been acting in a dream." - -"Passion, passion," said the monk--"the dream of passion!" - -"Happily, I have had no cause to regret that I did not see more -clearly," replied Jean Charost; "but let me turn to other matters, -good father. There are many things that I would wish to ask you--many -that are necessary for me to know." - -"Ask me nothing," replied the monk, quickly; then laying his hand upon -Jean Charost's arm, he said, in a low, stern voice, "There is a space -in memory on which I dare not tread. By struggle and by labor I have -reached firm ground, and can stand upon the rock of my salvation; but -behind me there is a gulf of madness--You would not drag me back into -it, young man?" - -"God forbid," replied Jean Charost. "But yet--" - -The monk waved his hand; and an instant after, the door of the cell -opened, and Martin Grille appeared, booted and spurred, with his dress -covered with dust, and every sign about him of long riding over -parched and sandy roads. - -"Well Martin," exclaimed the young man, as soon as he saw him, "what -says the Lord Willoughby?" - -"But little, and not pleasant," replied Martin Grille. "However, he -has written. Here is his letter." - -Jean Charost took the paper which the man held out to him, and tore it -open eagerly; but his face turned pale as he read, and he exclaimed, -"Fifteen thousand crowns for a baron's ransom! This is ruin." - -"I think he can not help himself," said Martin Grille; "for he seemed -very much vexed when he wrote. Indeed, he told me that the ransoms had -been fixed by higher power." - -"Ay, ay! A mere excuse," exclaimed Jean Charost. "This greedy -Englishman is resolved to make the most of the capture of a wounded -man." - -"Passion, my son, passion!" said the monk. "What the good lord says is -true, I do believe. 'Tis the ambition and policy of his master, not -his own greed. I have heard something of this, and feared the result. -King Henry is resolved that all those who might serve France best -against him should either pay the expenses of his next campaign by -their ransoms, or linger out their time in English prisons, while he -goes forth to conquer France." - -"Shame be upon him," cried Jean Charost. - -"Wouldst thou not do the same wert thou the King of England?" asked -the monk. - -Jean Charost mused for several minutes. "Then there is naught for me -but a prison," he said, at length. "I will not impoverish my poor -mother, nor my sweet little Agnes. It has cost enough to furnish me -forth for this fatal battle. Oh, that Frenchmen had coolness as well -as courage, discipline as well as activity! Oh, that they had won the -day: I would not have treated my prisoners so. Well, God's will be -done--I will cross the seas, and give myself up to captivity. Let me -have things for writing, Martin Grille." - -"Nay, my son, you are not fit," said the monk. - -"It must be done," answered Jean Charost. "What matters it to any one -if I die? He can not coin my clay into golden pieces. I will not pay -this ransom so long as my mother lives. Let me have ink and paper." - -Jean Charost wrote; but he was soon obliged to abandon the task, for -he was still too feeble. The next day he wrote again, however, and two -letters were accomplished. The one was sent off to his mother, the -other to the Lord Willoughby. To the latter he received an answer -courteous and kind, desiring him not to hurry his departure for -England, but to wait till he was well able to bear the journey. There -was one sentence somewhat confused in expression, intended to convey a -regret that the ransom fixed upon prisoners of his rank was so high; -but Jean Charost was irritated, and threw the letter from him. - -The other letter conjured his mother to his side with all speed, and -she brought his little Agnes with her; for she had a notion that the -presence of the child would be balmy to him. - -Let us pass over her remonstrances, and how she urged him to sell all -and pay his ransom. For her sake, he was firm. He would not impoverish -his mother; and though there were bitter tears, he departed from his -native land. Now let us change the scene. Between three and four years -had passed since the field of Azincourt had received some of the best -blood of France, and thinned the ranks of French chivalry. Every city, -every village, almost every family was full of trouble, and the place -that was at one day in the hands of England was another day in the -hands of France, and a third in the hands of Burgundy. All regular -warfare might be said to have come to an end. Each powerful noble made -war on his own hand, and linked himself by very slender ties to this -faction or that. His enterprises were his own, though they were -directed, in some degree, to the benefit of his party; but if he owned -in any one a right to command him, it was only with the reservation -that he should obey or not as he pleased. Armed bands traversed the -country in every direction. Hardly a field between the Loire and the -Somme was not at some time a scene of strife. None knew, when they -sowed the ground, who would reap the harvest; and the goods of the -merchant were as often exposed to pillage as the crop of the -husbandman. - -Yet it is extraordinary how soon the mind of man, and especially the -gay, volatile mind of the Frenchman, accommodates itself to -circumstances. Here was a state almost intolerable, it would seem, to -any but savages; but yet, in France, the skillful cook plied his busy -trade, and the reeking kitchen sent up fragrant fumes. The _auberge_, -the _cabaret_, the _gite_, the _repue_, all the places of public, -entertainment, in short, were constantly filled with gay guests. The -tailor's needle was never more employed, and as much ornament as ever -was bestowed upon fair forms which might be destined a few days after -to meet with a bloody death. The village bells called people to prayer -and praise as usual, and rang out merrily for the wedding, even when -hostile spears were within sight of the steeple. - -Such was the state of the country, when, one day in the latter part of -the summer of one thousand four hundred and nineteen, a young man, -dressed in the garb of a monk, entered a small town near the city of -Bourges. His feet were sandaled; he carried the pilgrim staff in his -hand, and he was evidently wayworn and fatigued. The greater part of -the peasantry were in the fields; and the street of the little place, -running up the side of a small hill, lay almost solitary in the bright -sunshine. The master of the _gite_, or small inn, however, was sitting -at his own door, with an ancient companion, feeble and white-bearded, -and they made some comments to one another upon the young stranger as -he approached, which were not very favorable to monks in general. - -"Oh, he is going to the Gray Friar's monastery, doubtless," said the -host to his companion, "and doubtless they fare well there. He will -have a jovial night of it after his journey, especially as this is -Thursday." - -"Ay, that's the time they always appoint for the women to come to -confess," said the other; "and I dare say they talk over all the sins -they hear pleasantly enough. See, he seems tending this way." - -"Not he," replied the landlord; "we have but little custom from the -brethren, though they can pay well when they will. Upon my life, I -believe he is coming hither; but perhaps 'tis but to ask his way." - -The stranger, however, did walk straight up to mine host of the inn, -and instead of asking his way, inquired whether he could lodge there -for the night. - -"Assuredly, good father," replied the landlord, in a very altered -tone; "this is a public _gite_, though the prices are rather higher -than they used to be, because the country has been so run down." - -"That matters not," answered the stranger; "when can I sup?" - -"In an hour, father, supper will be on the table." answered the host. -"Would you like to go and wash your feet; they are mighty dusty?" - -"Not yet," replied the stranger; "if I knew where to place my wallet -in safety, I would go on a little further to see the sun setting from -the hill." - -"Come with me--come with me," said the host; "I will show you your -chamber, where you will have as good a bed as a baron could wish for, -and a room, not much bigger than a cell, it is true; but you will not -mind that, for it is fresh and airy, and, moreover, it has a lock and -key, which is more than many rooms have." - -The stranger followed in silence, was admitted to his room, and laid -down the wallet. Then, taking the key--almost as big as that of a -church door of modern times--he issued forth from the inn again, and, -saying he would be back soon, he walked on to the other end of the -street, where it opened out through a low mud wall upon the brow of -the hill upon which the town was built. - -When clear of all houses, with his foot upon the green turf, and the -rocky descent below him, the young stranger crossed his arms upon his -chest, and stood gazing upon the scene around with more of the air of -a warrior than of a monk. He held his head high, and seemed to expand -his chest to receive fully the evening breeze, looking like a fine -horse when first turned forth from a close stable, snuffing the free -air before he takes his wild, headlong career around the meadow. But -the expression soon changed. Casting his eyes to the eastward, he just -caught sight, from behind the shoulder of the hill, of the towers and -battlements of Bourges; and a little further on, but more to the -north, on the other side of the river, he perceived a wooded hill, -with a large, square tower and some other buildings, crowning the -summit. A look of deep melancholy came upon his countenance. After -gazing for several minutes, he turned his eyes toward the ground, and -fell into a deep fit of thought, as if debating some important -question with himself. "It will be a painful pleasure," said he, at -length; "but I will go, let it cost what it may." - -Once more he gazed over the prospect all round, and then turning on -his steps, he retraced his way back to the inn, where he found the -landlord still seated at the door. - -"Can you tell me," he said, "if Messire Jacques C[oe]ur is now in -Bourges?" - -"No, that he is not, sir," answered the landlord, with great respect, -dropping the title of father, which he had previously bestowed upon -his guest, in favor of the gray gown; "he is away somewhere about -Monterreau with his highness the dauphin." - -"That is unlucky," said the other, just remarking, and no more, the -landlord's change of manner toward him, and the substitution of the -words sir and father. - -"Well, I will sup, and go on upon my way." - -"Had you not better sleep here, sir?" asked the landlord, again -avoiding the word father; "perhaps they are not prepared for you, and -you must have traveled far, I suppose." - -The other held to his resolution, however, with out taking any outward -notice of the great alteration in the man's demeanor; but when he -retired to his chamber to wash his feet before supper, he found -confirmation of a suspicion that the vaunted lock of his door had more -keys than one. Nothing was abstracted, indeed, from his wallet; but -the contents had been evidently examined carefully since he left the -house. Small as was the amount of baggage it contained, there were -several articles which bore the name of "Jean Charost de Brecy." - -Night had fallen by the time that supper was over, and the stars shone -out bright and clear when the young wanderer once more resumed his -journey, and took his way direct toward the castle he had seen upon -the hill. Onward he went at an unflagging pace, descended from the -higher ground into the valley, crossed the little river by its stone -bridge, and approached the foot of the eminence where the tower stood. -Large dogs bayed loudly as he came near the entrance of the castle, -and one or two men were seated under the arch of the barbican; but -Jean Charost's impatience had been growing with every step, and, -without pausing to put any questions or to ask permission, he passed -the draw-bridge, crossed the little court, and mounted the steps -leading into the great hall. One of the men had followed him from the -barbican, but did not attempt to stop him. Two of the dogs ran by his -side, looking up in his face, and a third gamboled wildly before him, -whining with a sort of anxious joy. The great hall was quite dark; but -he found his way across it easily enough, mounted a little flight of -five steps, and opened the door just above. There were lights in that -room, and Madame De Brecy was there seated embroidering: while little -Agnes, now greatly expanded both in form and beauty, sat beside his -mother, sorting the various colored silks. His feet were shod with -sandals; but his mother knew the tread. She started up and gazed at -him. The instant after, her arms were round his neck, and Agnes was -clinging to his hand and covering it with kisses. - -"Welcome--welcome home, my son!" cried Madame De Brecy; "has this hard -lord then relented? We heard that you were ill--very ill; and ere -three days more had passed, Agnes and I would have set off to join you -in England. We waited but for safe-conducts to depart." - -"I have been ill, dear mother," replied the young man; "and that -obtained me leave to return for a time. But do not deceive yourself; I -have not come back to stay. Indeed, so brief must be my absence from -my prison, so hopeless is the errand on which I came, that I had -doubts whether I ought to pause even here to give you the pang of -parting with me again. I have only obtained leave upon parole, to -absent myself from London for three months, in order to seek a ransom. -My only hope is in Jacques C[oe]ur; he, perhaps, may help us on easier -terms than any one else will consent to. I find, however, that he is -not in Bourges, and I must go on to-morrow to Monterreau to seek him; -for well-nigh three weeks of my time is already expired; 'tis a long -journey from England hither on foot." - -"Ah, my poor son!" cried Madame De Brecy; "our fate has been a sad -one, indeed. But yet, why should we complain? We share but the unhappy -fate of France, and, Heaven knows, she has deserved chastisement, were -it for nothing else but the bloody and unchristian feuds which have -brought this evil upon her." - -"Let us hope yet, mother--let us hope yet," said Jean Charost. "The -very feeling of being once more at home--in this dear home, where so -many sunny days have passed--rekindles the nearly extinguished fire, -and makes me hope again, in despite of probability." - -"But why did you come on foot, dear Jean?" cried Agnes, clinging to -him. "It was not for want of money, was it? Oh, I would gladly have -sold all those pretty things you gave me long ago, to have bought a -horse for you, though our dear mother says we must save every thing we -can in order to pay your ransom." - -"No, dear child, no," replied Jean Charost. "There were other reasons -for my coming on foot. I could not come with my lance in my hand, and -my pennon and my band behind me; and for a solitary traveler, well -dressed, and mounted on a good horse, it is dangerous to cross the -country between Harfleur and Bourges. But it is vain to think of -saving my ransom. My only hope is to get it diminished, and then to -obtain the means of paying it--both through Jacques C[oe]ur." - -"Diminished!" said Madame De Brecy, eagerly. "Is there a chance of -that?" - -Her son explained to her that a conference had already taken place -between the dauphin and the Duke of Burgundy, with a view to arrange -the terms of peace. "Jacques C[oe]ur," he said, "has great influence -with our own royal prince, and I believe that I myself stand not ill -with his highness of Burgundy, although, Heaven knows, I have never -sought his favor. If the dauphin will condescend--as perhaps he -ought--to make the liberation, upon moderate ransom, of several -gentlemen taken at Azincourt a stipulation in the treaty, I think I -have a fair claim to be among them. There is another interview, I -find, to take place in a few days, and I must not miss the -opportunity. I bear his highness letters from his cousin the young -Duke of Orleans, and several other gentlemen of high repute. Let us -hope then, my mother, at least till hope proves vain. Here will I rest -to-night, and speed onward again to-morrow. Perhaps I may lose my -labor, and have to travel back--to England and to captivity." - -"Then we will go with you, Jean," said Madame De Brecy. "You shall -stay no more alone in a prison." - -"Yes, yes, let us go with you," cried Agnes, eagerly, drowning Jean -Charost's reply. "We can all be as happy there as here. It is not the -walls, or the earth, that make a cheerful home. It is the spirits that -are in it." - -"Thou art a young philosopher." said Jean Charost, with a smile; "but -we will see." - -The next morning Jean Charost was upon his way toward Monterreau, -still dressed in his monkish garb--for the proverb proved true in his -case--but now mounted on an old mule, the very beast that had carried -the Duke of Orleans on the night of his assassination. It had been -given to him by the duchess when last he saw her, and when she felt -the hand of death pressing heavily upon her. - -The journey was too much for one day--twenty-three leagues, as they -counted them in those days, when leagues were leagues, and they had -kings in France--but Jean Charost resolved to push on as fast as -possible; and by night of the second day he had reached the small town -of Moret, whence a short morning's ride would bring him to Monterreau. - -It was dark when he arrived; but the small village was full of armed -men, and round the doors of many of the houses were assembled gay -groups, some seated on the ground, some on benches, some on empty -barrels, laughing, drinking, and singing, with all the careless -merriment of soldiery in an hour of peace. Lights burned in the -windows; lanterns, and sometimes torches, were out at the doors, and -the yellow harvest moon was rolling along the sky, and shedding from -her golden chariot-wheels a glorious flood of light. - -Doubtless there was a good deal of ribaldry in the words--doubtless -there was a good deal of licentiousness in the hearts of those around; -but yet there was a joyous exuberance of life--a careless, happy, -thoughtless confidence--an infectious merriment, that was difficult to -resist. The ringing laughter, the light song, the gay jest, the -cheerful faces, all seemed to ask Jean Charost, as he passed along, -"Why should you take thought for the morrow, when you can never tell -that a morrow will be yours? Why should you have care for the future, -when the future is disposed of by hands you can not see? Rejoice! -rejoice in the present day! Eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow -you die." - -Many a jest assailed the friar and his mule as they passed along; but -Jean Charost was in no mood to suffer a jest to annoy him. His hopes -had increased as he came near the spot where they were to be fulfilled -or extinguished, and the scene around him was certainly not calculated -to bid them depart too soon. - -At the door of a small inn, he stopped, and asked if he could find -entertainment; but the landlord rolled out a fat laugh, and told him, -No, not if he could make himself as small as the constable's dwarf. -"We are all as full here," he said, "as we can hold, and running over, -with the dauphin's men-at-arms. I doubt whether you will find a -quarter of a bed in the whole place. At the great _gite_ there--that -place which looks so dull and melancholy--you will have a better -chance than any where else; for Maître Langrin has raised his prices -above the tax, because he expects the lords and commanders to stay -there; but I don't think they will prefer his bad wine to my good, and -pay more for it." Thither, however, Jean Charost turned his mule; but -here the answer was much the same as before, combined with the saucy -intimation that they did not want any monks at that house; and the -young gentleman was turning away, thinking, with some anxiety, how he -could feed and stable his beast, when he saw a man, dressed apparently -as a superior officer, examining somewhat closely the mule, which he -had left tied to the tall post before the inn. He was not fully armed, -although he had a haubergeon on; and his head was only covered with a -plumed cap. Though tall and well formed, he stooped a little; and as -he drew back a step or two when the young gentleman approached to -mount, he seemed to move with some difficulty, and limped as he -walked. - -Jean Charost put his foot into the stirrup, mounted, and was about to -ride away, when the stranger called to him, somewhat roughly, saying, -"Where got you that mule, monk?" - -"It was a gift," replied Jean Charost, in a quiet tone, turning his -face full toward the speaker. - -"A gift--not from a palmer to a convent," cried the other, "but from a -lady to a soldier!" and in a moment after his arms were thrown round -Jean Charost, while he exclaimed, with a laugh, "Why, don't you know -me, De Brecy? I am not so much metamorphosed as you, in all your -monkery. In Heaven's name, what are you doing in this garb, and in -this place? Where do you come from? What are you doing? Some said you -were killed at Azincourt. One man swore to me he saw you die. Another -told me you were a prisoner in England; and I have always supposed the -latter was the case, for I have found in my own case how difficult it -is to get killed. They have nearly chopped me to mincemeat, but here I -am--what is left of me, that is to say." - -The young gentleman gave his old companion all the information he -desired; telling him, moreover, not without some hopes of assistance, -the difficulties under which he just then labored. - -"Oh, come with me, come with me," said Juvenel de Royans. "I am -captain of a company of horse archers, and every one bows down in -reverence to me here. You shall have half of my room, if they will -give you none other;" and, leading him back into the inn, he called -loudly for the host. - -"Here, Master Langrin," he exclaimed, when the uncivil functionary -whom Jean Charost had before seen made his appearance again, "this -gentleman is a friend of mine. He must have accommodation--there, I -know what you would say. You must make it, if you have not got it." - -"I took the gentleman for a monk, sir," said the host, with all -humility. - -"A monk!" cried De Royans. "The gown does not make the monk. Where -were your eyes? I will answer for it, he has got a steel coat on under -that gown. But he must have some rooms, at all events." - -"There are none empty but those reserved for Madame De Giac," replied -the landlord; "and all the men are obliged to sleep four or five in a -bed." - -"Well, put him in Madame De Giac's rooms," cried De Royans, with a -laugh. "I dare say neither party will object to the arrangement. At -all events, you must find him some place; I insist upon it. I will -quarter all my archers upon you, if you don't; eat out all you have -got in the house, and drink up all your wine. Take ten minutes to -consider of it, and then come and tell me, in the den where you have -put me. Bid some of my people look to Monsieur De Brecy's mule, and -look to it well; for, before it carried him, it carried as noble a -prince as France has seen, or ever will see. Come, old friend, I will -show you the way." - -When Jean Charost was seated in the room of Juvenel de Royans, a lamp -lighted, and his companion stretched out at ease, partly on his bed -and partly on a settle, the latter assumed a graver tone, and De Brecy -perceived with pain that he was both depressed in mind and sadly -shattered in body. Twelve years of almost incessant campaigning had -broken down his strength, and many wounds received had left him a -suffering and enfeebled man. - -"God help me!" he said. "I try to bear up well, De Brecy, and can not -make up my mind to quit the old trade. I must die in harness, I -suppose; but I believe what I ought to do would be to betake me to my -castle by the Garonne, adopt my sister's son--her husband fell at -Azincourt--and feed upon bouillons and Medoc wine for the rest of my -life. I am never without some ache. But now tell me what are your -plans; for, as I am constantly on the spot, I can give you a map of -the whole country." - -Jean Charost explained to him frankly his precise situation, and De -Royans thought over it for some time in silence. - -"You must make powerful friends," he said, at length. "Don't you know -Madame De Giac? Every one knows that, on that fatal night, you were -sent to her by the duke our lord, and, if so, she must be under some -obligations to you for your discretion." - -"I have remarked, De Royans," replied the other, "that ladies -generally hate those who have the power to be discreet." - -"That could be soon seen," said De Royans. "We can test it readily." - -"I see no use," replied De Brecy. "She is the avowed mistress of the -Duke of Burgundy, and of him I am going to ask no favor." - -"She may be his avowed mistress, and no less a dear friend of his -highness the dauphin," answered De Royans. "She was the duke's avowed -mistress, and no less a dear friend of his highness of Orleans." - -Jean Charost gave a shudder. "Heaven forgive me," he said, "if I lack -charity. But there is a dark suspicion in my mind, De Royans, which -would make me sooner seek a boon of the devil than of that woman." - -"Ha!" said De Royans, raising himself partly from the bed. "If I -thought that--but no matter, no matter. We will talk of her no more." - -"What does she here?" asked Jean Charost. - -"I will tell you all about it," replied the other. "A conference took -place some time ago in regard to the general pacification of the -kingdom. The Duke of Burgundy promised great things, which he has -never performed, nor ever will; and his highness the dauphin has -summoned him to another conference here at Monterreau, hard by. The -duke has hesitated for more than a month. Sometimes he would come, -sometimes he would not. Often urged that the dauphin himself should -come to Troyes, where he lay with his forces, and with the poor king -and queen. The dauphin said nay, but promised all security if he would -come hither. John-without-Fear has shown himself John-with-great-Fear, -however, well considering that there are twenty thousand men with his -prince in and around Monterreau. Nothing would serve him but he must -have the castle given up to him for security; and, accordingly, I and -my men, who kept it for his highness the dauphin, were turned out, to -make way for--who do you think?" - -"Nay, I can not tell," replied Jean Charost. "Perhaps James de la -Ligne, master of the crossbow men, who I hear is with the duke." - -"Nothing of the kind," answered De Royans. "For good Madame De Giac, -her household and servants--not an armed man among them. She arrives -here to-night; goes on early to-morrow; and the duke himself, they -say, will arrive in the afternoon. He came as far as Bray sur Seine -five or six days ago; but there he stopped and hesitated once more; -and one can not tell whether he will come after all or not. If he does -he will come well accompanied; for it is clear that his heart fails -him." - -"Is there any reason for his fear, except that general doubt of all -men which the wicked have from the pictures in their own heart?" asked -Jean Charost. - -Juvenel de Royans raised himself completely, and sat upon the edge of -the bed, bending slightly forward, and speaking in a lower tone. "I -can not tell," he said, slowly and thoughtfully; "but there is a -general feeling abroad--no one can tell why--that if to-morrow's -interview does take place something extraordinary will happen. It is -all vague and confused--no one knows what he expects, but every one -expects something. We have no orders for extraordinary preparation. -The side of the castle next to the fields is to be left quite free and -open for the duke and his people to come and go at their pleasure, and -every thing seems to indicate that his highness meditates nothing but -peaceful conference. Yet I know that, as soon as I hear the duke is in -the Castle of Monterreau, I will have every man in the saddle, and -every horse out of the stable, in order to act as may be needed." - -"But you must have some reasons for such apprehensions," said Jean -Charost. - -"None--none, upon my word," replied Juvenel de Royans. "The only way I -can account for the general feeling is, that every man of our faction -knows that John of Burgundy is an enemy to France; that his ambition -is the great obstacle to the union of all Frenchmen against our -English adversaries; and that it would be good for the whole country -if he were dead or in prison. Perhaps what every one wishes, every one -thinks may happen. But now, De Brecy, once more to your own affairs. -Your plan is a good one. His highness, in consenting to any peace, -ought to stipulate for the liberation of his friends upon a moderate -ransom--and yours is certainly unreasonable. But how to get at him is -the question, in order to insure that your name may be among those -stipulated. You will not use Madame De Giac." - -"Nay, but I have two means of access," answered Jean Charost. "I have -a letter for his highness from the young Duke of Orleans, my -fellow-prisoner; and I hear that my good friend Jacques C[oe]ur has -very great influence with the royal prince." - -Juvenel de Royans mused before he answered. "The letter may not do -what you want," he said, at length; "for you must see the prince -before this interview takes place; and when you present the letter, a -long-distant day may be appointed for your audience. Jacques C[oe]ur -can doubtless procure your admission at once, if he be in Monterreau. -He was there, certainly, three days ago, and supplied his highness -liberally, they say, to his great joy; for he was well-nigh penniless. -But the rumor ran that he was to depart for Italy yesterday." - -"Then the case is hopeless," said Jean Charost, with a sigh. - -A silence of some minutes succeeded; but then De Royans looked up with -a smile. "Not hopeless," he said, "not hopeless. I have just thought -of a way more sure than any other. First, I will give you a letter to -my friend and cousin Tanneguy du Châtel, who is high in the dauphin's -confidence. There, however, you might be put off; but there is another -means in your own hand. Do you remember Mademoiselle De St. Geran--the -beautiful Agnes--people used to think that you were in love with her, -and she with you, though she was but a girl, and you little more than -a boy in those days." - -"I remember her well," replied Jean Charost, "and have a high regard -for her." - -"So has the dauphin," answered Juvenel de Royans, with a meaning -smile. - -"You do not mean to say," cried Jean Charost; but his companion -interrupted him. - -"I mean to say nothing," replied De Royans "In fact, men know nothing -but what I have said. It is clear his highness has a great regard for -her, reverences her advice, follows it, even in affairs of war and -policy; and, were it not that his wife reverences and loves her just -as much, there would be no doubt of the matter; for her exquisite -beauty--" - -"I never thought her very beautiful," said Jean Charost. "Her form was -fine, and her face pretty; but that is all." - -"Oh, but there has been a change," answered De Royans. "She is the -same, and yet another. It is impossible to describe how beautiful she -has grown. Every line in her face has become fine and delicate. The -colors have grown clear and pure; the roses blossom in her cheek; the -morning star is sparkling in her eyes; warm as the summer, yet dewy as -the daybreak. But that is not all. There is an inconceivable grace in -her movements, unlike any thing I ever saw. Her quickest gesture is so -easy that it seems slow, and her lightest change of attitude brings -out some new perfection in her symmetry; and through the whole there -seems a soul, a spirit shining like a light upon every thing around. -Why, the old Bishop of Longres himself said, the other day, that, from -the parting of her hair to the sole of her foot, she was all beauty. -The good man, indeed, said he did not know whether it was the beauty -of holiness; but he hoped so." - -"Why, you seem in love with her yourself, De Royans," answered Jean -Charost. - -"Go and see--go and see," replied his companion. "She will greet you -right willingly; for she is mild and humble, and ever glad to welcome -an old acquaintance." - -"But where can I find her?" asked Jean Charost. - -"Oh, you will find her at the Strangers' Lodging at the abbey," -answered De Royans. "The dauphin has his head-quarters there, with the -dauphiness and two or three of her ladies. Were I you, I would go to -her the first; for her influence is certain, however it comes. But you -must change your monk's garb, man; for, though they lodge at the -abbey, the court is not very fond of the friars. Ah, here comes our -landlord. Now, Monsieur Langrin, what has made you so long?" - -"The arrival of Madame De Giac, sir," answered the host. "I can but -give the gentleman a mere closet to sleep in, which I destined for -another; but of course, as your friend, he must have it; and as for -supper, it is on the table, with good wine to boot." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. - - -Towns have their varying expressions as well as human faces; and the -aspect of Monterreau, on the tenth of September, one thousand four -hundred and nineteen, presented a curious appearance, but one which -those who have lived long on the face of the earth must sometimes have -seen in moments of great excitement and expectation. The city looked -gay, for it was filled with people; and the splendor-loving soldiery, -in their arms, seen in every direction, gave a brilliancy to the -streets which in ordinary times they did not possess. The day was -bright and beautiful, too; one of those clear, warm, September days, -which often succeed a frosty morning; and the trees, which were then -mingled with the vineyards on the heights of Surville, caught the rays -of the sun upon foliage gently tinged with the tints of autumn. The -bells of the churches rang out, for it was the Sabbath; and many a -fair dame, in sparkling attire and with rosary on wrist, flaunted her -Sunday finery along the streets, or might be seen gliding in through -the dark portal to join in the service of the day. Still, there was a -sort of silent solemnity over the place, an uneasy calm, if I may use -an expression which seems to imply a contradiction--an oppressive -expectation. Whenever the bell ceased, there seemed no other sound. -Men walked in groups, and spoke not; even the women bated their breath -and conversed in lower tones. - -Early in the morning, a gay train had passed into the castle, after -circling the town till a gate, opening beyond the walls into the -fields, had been reached. There were ladies and waiting-women, and -several gentlemen of gallant mien, and a small troop of archers. But -the castle gates swallowed them up, and nothing more was seen of them -for several hours. From time to time, two or three horsemen rode out -of the town, and sometimes a small party re-entered it; but these were -the only occurrences which gave any appearance of movement to the -scene till after the hour of noon. - -About nine o'clock in the morning, indeed, a young man, in the dress -of a monk, rode in on a mule, put up his beast at a stable, where he -was obliged to use the name of the Marquis De Royans to obtain any -attention, and then proceeded on foot to a large house situated near -the bridge over the Yonne. There were a number of people at the door, -and he made some inquiries, holding a letter in his hand. The answer -seemed unsatisfactory; for he turned away, and walked through the -town, inquiring for the abbey, which lay upon the other side. - -There were no signs of approaching the precincts of a court, as Jean -Charost proceeded on the way he had been directed. The two streets -through which he passed were nearly deserted, and, being turned from -the sun, looked cool and desolate enough. He began almost to fancy he -had made a mistake, when, on the opposite side of a little square or -close, he saw a large and very beautiful building, with a church at -one end of it, and a row of stone posts before it. All that was left -of it, as far as I remember, in one thousand eight hundred and -twenty-one, was one beautiful doorway, with a rounded arch overhead, -sinking deep with molding within molding, of many a quaint and curious -device, till it made a sort of niche, under which the traveler might -find shelter from the sun or rain. It was, when I saw it, used as the -entrance to a granary; but two guards, with halberts on their -shoulders, walking slowly up and down, and three or four servants -loitering about, or sitting on the steps, showed that it had not been -turned to such base uses, in the year of our Lord fourteen hundred and -nineteen. - -Directly toward this door De Brecy took his way, giving a glance round -as he passed the corners of the houses opposite, and obtaining a view, -down a short street, of the gently-flowing Seine, with its ancient -bridge and the walls of the old castle. There seemed to be some -curious erections on the bridge: a little pavilion, with a flag -fluttering on the top, and several large wooden barricades; but De -Brecy paused not to inquire what they meant, and walking straight on -to one of the servants, inquired if the Seigneur du Châtel were there, -adding that he had been directed thither from his quarters. - -The young gentleman spoke with a tone of authority, which, probably, -as well as the glistening of a military haubergeon above the neck of -the monk's frock, procured him a civil answer. - -"He is here, sir," answered the servant; "but is in deep conference -with his highness the dauphin and several other lords. He can in no -way be interrupted." - -"Give him that letter when he comes from the council, and fail not," -said Jean Charost. "Moreover, I must beg of you to see immediately the -principal officer of his highness's household, and inform him that the -Baron De Brecy, a prisoner of Azincourt, has arrived from England, -bearing a letter for the dauphin from his highness the Duke of -Orleans, and craves leave to lay it at his feet as soon as his -convenience serves." - -"I fear, sir, that will not be speedily," said the servant. "Where may -you be found when his highness has occasion?" - -"If Mademoiselle De St. Geran be at the court," replied Jean Charost, -a little discouraged by the impediments he had met with, "I will crave -an interview with her. You may tell her," he added, seeing the man -take a step back as if to enter the building, "that Monsieur De Brecy -waits--an acquaintance of her childhood, whom he trusts she may -remember." - -"You had better follow me, sir," said the servant. "She is here, and -was alone some half hour ago." - -Jean Charost followed the man into the abbey, one whole wing of which -seemed to be appropriated to the dauphin and his train. No monks were -visible; but still, the dim, religious light of the long passages and -arched cloisters, the quiet courts, and galleries rich in gray stone -fret-work, had a solemnity, if not a gloom, which Jean Charost thought -must contrast strangely with some of those wild courtly revelries -which checkered the fierce strifes and fiery passions of the age. - -Passing by a number of small doors leading to the cells along the -cloister, where probably the inferior followers of the court were -quartered, the young gentleman was led to the foot of a flight of -highly-ornamented stairs, carried boldly up through a wide, lightsome -hall, round which it turned, and carved and supported with such skill -and delicacy, that it seemed actually to hang in air. At the top ran -round a gallery, screened by fine tracery of stone-work from the -stair-case hall, and on the other hand, all round, except where the -window was placed to afford light, were doors, and the opening of -corridors, over the arch of one of which appeared a mitre, showing -that there had formerly been the apartments of the abbot. The servant -passed on to the next corridor, and then led the visitor along to the -very end, where, after knocking at a door, he entered, said a few -words, and then opened the door wider for Jean Charost to pass in. It -was a small, but richly-decorated room he entered, with a door, -apparently leading to another beyond; and at a table, covered with -many-colored silks, which she seemed sorting into their different -shades, sat a lady, magnificently dressed. She raised her eyes, -beautiful and full of light, but with no glance of recognition in -them, and for a moment De Brecy fancied there must be some mistake. -There was a certain vague, shadowy likeness to the Agnes Sorel he had -formerly known, but yet there was a strange difference. It was the -diamond polished, compared with the diamond dull from the mine. - -The next instant, however, the likeness suddenly became more strong. -Remembrance seemed to flash up in the countenance of the lovely -creature before him. She threw down the silk, rose hastily from the -table, and exclaimed, with a beaming smile, "Ah, Monsieur De Brecy! He -did not give your name rightly." - -She was in the very act of advancing to meet him; but suddenly she -paused, and from some cause, unexplained, a warm blush rushed over her -cheek and forehead, and then, the moment after, she turned deadly -pale. - -She recovered herself speedily, welcomed him most kindly, made him sit -down by her, and listened to all he had to say. She answered him, too, -with every mark of interest; but, from time to time, she fell into a -deep, silent fit of thought, during which her spirit seemed to take -wings and fly far away. - -"Forgive me, Monsieur De Brecy," she said, at length, "if I seem -sometimes inattentive and absent. Your sudden and unexpected coming -carries me back continually to other days, without leaving me any -power of resistance--I know not whether to call them happier days, -though they were happier in one sense. They were days full of hopes -and purposes, alas! not to be accomplished. But we learn hard lessons, -Monsieur De Brecy, in this severe school of life. We learn to bear -much that we thought we could never bear; and by constantly seeing -changes and chances, and all that befalls others, learn to yield -ourselves unresisting to our fate, with the sad philosophy of enjoying -the day, from a knowledge that we have no power over the morrow. Oh, -what a lapse of strange things there seems to be since you and I last -met! The frightful murder of the poor Duke of Orleans, and your own -undeserved sufferings, mark out that distant time for memory as with a -monument. Between that point and this, doubtless, much has occurred to -both of us that can never be forgotten. But, God help us! it is well -to curb memory with a strong hand, that she run not always back to the -things past, for the course of all mankind is onward. Now let us talk -of what can be done for your deliverance. You must, of course, see his -highness the dauphin before his meeting with the Duke of Burgundy, and -I think I can warrant that he will make a strong effort for your -deliverance. He is a noble and a generous prince, and will do much to -serve his friends--though, Heaven knows, he has had discouragement -enough to weary the heart, and sink the energies of any one. -Nothing but selfishness around him, taking all the many shapes -of that foul, clinging fiend which preys forever upon human -nature--ambition, covetousness, petty malice, calumny, sordid envy, -ingratitude--wherever he turns, there is one of its hateful Hydra -heads gaping wide-mouthed upon him. Yes, you must certainly see him -before the meeting, for no one knows when there may be another--The -meeting! What will be the parting?" - -She fell into a fit of thought again, but it lasted not long; and, -looking up, she added, "I know not how it is, Monsieur De Brecy, but a -certain sort of dread has come upon me in regard to this meeting, and -every one who approaches me seems to feel the same. I can not help -remembering that this man who comes hither to-day murdered his own -first cousin, when pretending the utmost affection for him, and vowing -peace and amity at the altar; and I should fear for the dauphin's -safety, if I did not know that he has twenty thousand men in this -place and neighborhood, and that every possible precaution has been -taken. What is it, I wonder, makes me feel so sad? Do you think there -is any danger?" - -"I trust not," replied Jean Charost. "They tell me the two princes are -to meet within barriers, assisted by some of their most experienced -counselors; and though the castle has been given up to the duke, yet -the dauphin's force is so much superior to any Burgundian body which -could be brought up, that it would be madness to attempt any -surprise." - -"Could he not secretly introduce a large force into the castle," asked -Agnes, "and, rushing suddenly upon the bridge, make the dauphin his -prisoner?" - -"He would be taken in the flank and rear," replied De Brecy, "and -speedily punished for his temerity. No, dear lady, as far as I can -judge, the interview must be a very safe one. But, if you wish, I will -go and make further inquiries." - -"No, no," she replied; "you must stay here. The council may break up -at any moment, and I will then introduce you to his highness--provided -they do not sit till after the dinner hour, when it would be well for -you to go away and return. The duke, they say, will not be here till -two or three o'clock; but he has sent word from Bray that he will -assuredly come. Nay, is not Madame De Giac in the castle? That is a -certain sign of his coming. Now let us talk of other things, and turn -our eyes once more back to other days. I love sometimes a calm, dreamy -conference with memory--as one sits over a fire at eventide, and sees -misty pageants of the mind rise up before the half-closed eyes, all in -a bright, soft haze. Do you recollect that boy who played so -beautifully upon the violin? He is now the chief musician to her -highness the dauphiness. Would he were here: he would soon soften down -all hard fears and doubts with sweet music." - -Jean Charost took his tone from her, and the conversation proceeded, -quietly and tranquilly enough, for more than an hour, Agnes Sorel -sometimes reverting to her companion's actual situation, but more -frequently suffering her thoughts to linger about the past, as those -are inclined to do who feel uncertain of the present or the future. -Twice she turned the little hour-glass that stood upon the table, but -at length she said, "It is in vain to wait longer, Monsieur De Brecy. -His highness's dinner-hour is now fast approaching. Return to me at -two o'clock; and in the mean time, if possible, see Tanneguy du -Châtel. He may befriend you much, for he is greatly in the prince's -favor, and, moreover, he is honest and true, though somewhat fierce, -and rough of speech, and unforgiving. But he is zealous and, faithful -for his prince, and, strange to say, no envier of other men who seem -rising into power with less truth and less merit than himself. I will -not say farewell, for we shall meet again shortly. Remember, two -o'clock." - -Jean Charost retired at once; but, as he found his way down the -stairs, he heard a door below thrown suddenly open, and several -persons speaking, and even laughing, as they came out. In the hall, at -the foot of the stairs, he found some twelve or fifteen persons slowly -moving across, some stopping for a moment to add a word or two more to -something which had gone before; others hurrying on toward the door by -which he had entered the building. Among the former was a tall, -powerful man, exceedingly broad in the shoulders, with a long -peacock's feather in his cap, who paused for an instant just at the -foot of the stairs to speak with a thin old man in a black gown. - -Jean Charost had just passed them, when the servant with whom he had -spoken before approached the taller man as if to speak to him; and -before Jean had taken ten steps more, he heard his name pronounced -aloud. - -"Monsieur De Brecy--Monsieur De Brecy!" said the voice; and, turning -round, he found the personage with the peacock's feather following -him. His manner was quick and decided, and not altogether pleasant, -yet there was a frankness about it which one often finds in men of a -bold and ready spirit, where there is no great tenderness or delicacy -of feeling--stern things and rough, but serviceable and sincere. - -"This letter from De Royans," he said, "comes at a moment of some -hurry; but yet your business wants speedy attention. Come to my house -and dine. We will talk as we eat. We have not time for ceremony." - -As he spoke, he took hold of Jean Charost's arm, as if he had been an -old friend, and drew him on, with long strides, to the house at which -the young gentleman had called in the morning. As they went, he -inquired what he had done in the matter of his ransom, and when he -heard that he had seen Mademoiselle De St. Geran, and interested her -in his behalf, he exclaimed, "'Tis the best thing that could be done. -I could not serve you as well as she can. Are you an old friend of -hers?" - -"I knew her when she was a mere girl," answered Jean Charost. - -Du Châtel appeared hardly to hear his answer, for he seemed, like -Agnes Sorel, subject to fits of deep thought that day; and he did not -wake from the reverie into which he had fallen till they reached the -door of his dwelling. Then, as they were mounting the steps, he broke -forth again with the words, "She can do what she will--lucky that she -always wills well for France; Let me see--" Then, speaking to a -servant, he added, "Dinner instantly. Tell Marivault to have my armor -all laid out ready. Come, De Brecy, all I can do for you I will. But -that is only to make you known to the dauphin, and it must be hastily -too. The fair Agnes must plead your cause with him, though I think it -will not need much pleading." - -While he had been speaking, he had advanced into a little room on the -left hand side of the entrance, where a small table was laid, as if -for the dinner of one person, and throwing himself on a stool, he -pointed to another, saying, "If this interview ends well, I think -there can be no doubt of your success." - -"I trust it will end well," said Jean Charost "Is there any reason to -think otherwise?" - -"Hum!" said Tanneguy du Châtel. "That will depend altogether upon the -Duke of Burgundy. He is puffed up and insolent, and there be hot -spirits about the dauphin. It were well for him not to use such bold -words as he has lately indulged in. We all mean him well, and fairly; -but if he ruffles his wings as he has lately done, he may chance to go -back with his feathers singed; and then, my good friend, your suit -would be of no avail. Ah, here comes the pottage. Eat, eat; for we -must be quick. It must be a strange thing," he continued, after he had -taken his soup; "it must be a strange thing to go about the world with -the consciousness that every man in all the land believes your death -would be the salvation of France! I should not like the sensation. -Here, wine--boy, give me wine! God send that this all ends well. If -the Duke of Burgundy will but be reasonable, sacrifice some small part -of his ambition to his country's good, remember that he is a subject -and a Frenchman, and fulfill his promises, we may see some happy days -again, and drive these islanders from the land. If not, we are all at -sea again." - -"I trust he will," answered Jean Charost; "but yet he is of a stern, -unbending spirit, as I have cause to know." - -"Ha! Has he been your enemy, too?" asked Du Châtel. - -"Not exactly," answered Jean Charost. "Indeed, long ago he made me -high offers if I would enter his service; but it was an insult rather -than a compliment; for he had just then caused the assassination of -the Duke of Orleans, my noble lord." - -Du Châtel ground his teeth. "Ah, the villain," he said. "That is a -score to be wiped off yet. But you must have done something to serve -him previously. John of Burgundy is not a man to court any one without -some strong motive of self-interest." - -"I have often puzzled myself as to what could be his motive," answered -Jean Charost, with a smile, "but have never been even able to guess at -any inducement, unless it were some words of an astrologer at -Pithiviers, who told him I should be present at his death, and try to -prevent it." - -"Heaven send the prophesy may be soon accomplished!" exclaimed -Tanneguy du Châtel, with a laugh. "I longed to send my sword through -him the other day at Troyes; but I thought it would be hardly -courteous in his own house, when we were eating together. But if I -could meet with him, lance to lance, in the field, I think one or the -other of us would not ride far after." - -"Shall I give you more wine, my lord?" asked a page, advancing with a -flagon. - -"No," replied his master; "I am hot enough already. Change that dish. -What is there else for dinner?" - -A man came in as he spoke, and said, in a low voice, "The duke is on -the road, my lord." - -"Well, let him come," replied Du Châtel. "We are ready for him." - -"Perhaps he may not come on still," replied the man; "for Anthony of -Thoulongeon and John of Ermay have been examining the barricades upon -the bridge with somewhat dark faces, and have ridden out to meet the -duke, their master." - -"Then let him stay away," answered Du Châtel, abruptly. "We mean him -no ill. He has been courted enough. It's his own conscience makes him -afraid to come. Here is some hare, De Brecy. Take some wine, take some -wine. You do not require so spare a diet as I do. Odds life! they let -you blood enough at Azincourt to keep you calm and tranquil." - -When the brief, frugal dinner was over, Tanneguy du Châtel started up, -saying, "I must go get on my harness. You hurry back to the beautiful -lady you wot of, and wait with her till you hear from me, unless the -dauphin comes in and your business is settled. If not, I will present -you to him before the interview, in the good hope that matters will go -smoothly, and some fair conditions be settled for the good of France. -I know not what is in me to-day. I feel as if quickened by another -spirit. Well, I must get on this armor." - -Thus saying, he left the room, and Jean Charost found his way back to -the abbey, where he was kept some time before he obtained audience of -Agnes Sorel. When he was at length admitted, he found her seated with -another lady somewhat younger than herself, and very beautiful also, -with their arms thrown round each other's waists. Neither moved when -the young gentleman entered; but Agnes, bowing her head, said, "This -is Monsieur De Brecy, madam, of whom I spoke to your highness. -Monsieur De Brecy, I present you to the dauphiness." - -Jean Charost, it need hardly be said, was greatly surprised, and, in -some degree, embarrassed; for the suspicions of others had created -suspicions in himself, which he now mistakenly thought were mistaken. -He paid all due reverence to the dauphiness, however, and remained for -nearly an hour conversing with her and the beautiful Agnes, who were -both waiting anxiously, it seemed, for the appearance of the dauphin. -The part of the house in which they were was very quiet; but the -sounds from the country came more readily to the ear than those -proceeding from the town. Some noise, like the hoof-tramp of many -horses, was heard, and the dauphiness looked at Agnes anxiously. - -"What is that? Can you see, Monsieur De Brecy?" asked the latter; and -Jean Charost sprang to the window. - -"A large party of horse," he answered. "I should judge from four to -five hundred men." - -"It is the duke," exclaimed the dauphiness. "Dearest Agnes, are you -sure there is no danger? Remember the Duke of Orleans." - -"True, madam," replied Agnes; "but he was well-nigh alone. His -highness has twenty thousand men around him." - -The dauphiness cast down her eyes in thought, and the moment after one -of the officers of the household entered, saying, "Monsieur De Brecy, -the Seigneur du Châtel desires to see you below." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. - - -When Jean Charost reached the bottom of the great stair-case, he found -every thing below in a state of great hurry and confusion. A number of -persons were passing out, and stately forms, and burnished arms, and -waving plumes were seen flowing along through the corridor like a -stream. At the foot of the stairs stood Tanneguy du Châtel in complete -arms, with his right foot raised upon the first step, his knee -supporting the pommel of a small battle-ax, and his hand resting on -the blade of the weapon. His beaver was up, and the expression of his -countenance eager and impatient. "Quick, quick, De Brecy," he said. -"The prince has gone on. We must catch him before the interview -begins, if you would speed in your suit." - -"I am ready," said the young man; and on they hastened, somewhat -impeded by the number of attendants and noblemen of the dauphin's -court, who were already following him toward the bridge over the -Seine. They issued out of the abbey, at length, and then made greater -progress in the open streets. But, nevertheless, they did not overtake -the prince and the group that immediately surrounded him, till he had -reached the foot of the high arched bridge on which the barriers were -erected. In the open space on either side of the road, between the -houses and the water, were assembled a strong body of horse and two -large companies of archers. A herald and a marshal kept the way clear -for the prince and his train, and no one appeared upon the bridge -itself but some men, stationed at each of the four barriers, to open -and close the gates as the several parties passed in. On the opposite -side of the river towered up the old castle, with its outworks coming -quite down to the bridge; but nobody appeared there except a few -soldiers on the walls. - -"Here is Monsieur De Brecy, royal sir," said Tanneguy du Châtel, -approaching the dauphin--a tall and graceful, but slightly-formed -young man--"the gentleman who has been a prisoner! since Azincourt, of -whom I spoke to your highness, as did also, I hear, your royal lady, -and Mademoiselle De St. Geran." - -The dauphin turned partly round, and gave one glance at Jean Charost, -saying, "Bring him in with you, Du Châtel. We will speak with him -within the barriers; for, by all I see, my fair cousin of Burgundy -intends to keep me waiting." - -Thus saying, the dauphin passed on with two or three other persons, -the barrier being raised to give him admission. The man in charge of -the gate seemed to hesitate at the sight of Jean Charost in his monk's -gown; but Du Châtel exclaimed, sharply, "The Baron De Brecy. Let him -pass. I am his warrant." - -The second barrier was passed in the same way as the first by the -dauphin and his immediate followers; but a number of the train -remained between the two barricades, according to orders apparently -previously given. The keeper of the second barrier made greater -difficulty than the other to let Jean Charost pass and it was not till -the dauphin himself turned his head, and said, "Let him enter," that -the rail was raised. - -Across the centre of the bridge a single light rail was drawn, and in -the space between that and the second barrier was placed a little -pavilion, decorated with crimson silk, and furnished with a chair for -the use of the prince. He advanced at once toward it and seated -himself, and those who accompanied him, in number about two or three -and twenty, gathered round, and an eager conversation seemed to take -place among them. Tanneguy du Châtel mingled with the rest, -approaching close to the side of the dauphin; but Jean Charost -remained on the verge of the group, unnoticed, and apparently -forgotten. - -Some one was heard to say something regarding the insolence of keeping -his highness waiting; and then the voice of Du Châtel answered, in a -frank tone, "Not insolence, perhaps--suspicion and fear, very likely." - -"We wish him no ill," said the dauphin. "Let him keep his promises, -and we will embrace him with all friendship. Perhaps he does not know -that we are here. Go and summon him, Du Châtel." - -Without reply, Tanneguy hastened away, vaulted, armed as he was, over -the rail which crossed the bridge at the centre, and passed through -the two other barriers on the side of the castle, disappearing under -the archway of the gate. - -The eyes of most persons present were turned in that direction; but -the dauphin looked round, with a somewhat listless air, as if for some -object with which to fill up the time, and, seeing Jean Charost, he -beckoned him up. - -"I am glad to see you, Monsieur De Brecy," he said. "They tell me you -have a letter for me from my cousin of Orleans. Were you not, if I -remember right, the secretary of his father, my uncle, who was so -basely murdered?" - -"I was, your highness," replied Jean Charost. "Permit me to present -you the young duke's letter." - -The dauphin took it, but did not break the seal, merely saying, "I -grieve deeply for my good cousin's long imprisonment, and if we can -bring this stout-hearted Duke of Burgundy to any thing like reasonable -terms of accommodation, I doubt not that we shall be able to conclude -an honorable peace with England, in which case his liberation shall be -stipulated, and yours, too, Monsieur De Brecy; for I am told you not -only served well, and suffered much at Azincourt, but that your noble -devotion to my murdered uncle had well-nigh cost your own life. Rest -assured you shall be remembered." - -Jean Charost judged rightly whence the prince's information came; and -he was expressing his thanks, when some of those who were standing -round exclaimed, "The duke is coming, your highness!" - -"Somewhat late," said the young prince, with a frown; "but better that -than not come at all. Well go, some of you, and do him honor." - -Thus saying, he rose and advanced slowly to the rail across the -bridge, on which he leaned, crossing his arms upon his chest. - -In the meanwhile, a small party, consisting of ten or twelve people, -were seen approaching from the gate of the castle. At the first -barrier they halted, and a short consultation seemed to take place. -Before it was finished they were joined by some six or seven noblemen -who had left the group about the dauphin by his command. They then -moved forward again; but some way in advance of them came Tanneguy du -Châtel, with a quick step and a flushed countenance. - -"This man is very bold, my prince," he said, in a low tone. "God send -his looks and words may be more humble here, for I know not how any of -us will bear it." - -"Go back--go back, and bring him on," said the dauphin. "He shall hear -some truths he may not lately have heard. Be you calm, Du Châtel, and -leave me to deal with him. I will not spare." - -Eagerness to see all the strange scene that was passing had led Jean -Charost almost close to the rail by the time that Tanneguy du Châtel -turned, and advanced once more to meet the Duke of Burgundy. That -prince was now easily to be distinguished a little in advance of his -company, and Jean Charost remarked that he had greatly changed since -he last saw him. Though still a strong and active man, he looked much -older, and deep lines of anxious thought were traced upon his cheek -and brow. At first his eyes were fixed upon the dauphin, who continued -to lean against the rail without the slightest movement; but as he -came on, the duke looked to the right and left, running his eyes over -the prince's attendants, and when about ten steps from the rail, they -rested firmly and inquiringly on the face of Jean Charost. For a -moment the sight seemed to puzzle him; but then a look of recognition -came over his countenance; and the next instant he turned deadly pale. - -A sort of hesitation was seen in his step and air; but he recovered -himself at once, advanced straight to the dauphin, and bent one knee -to the ground before him, throwing his heavy sword behind with his -left hand. - -The dauphin moved not, spoke not, for a moment, but gazed upon the -duke with a heavy, frowning brow. "Well, cousin of Burgundy," he said, -at length, without asking him to rise, "you have come at length. I -thought you were going to violate your promise now, as in the other -cases." - -"I have violated no promises, Charles of France," replied the duke, in -a tone equally sharp. - -"Heaven is witness that you have," answered the dauphin. "Did you not -promise to cease from war? Did you not promise to withdraw your -garrisons from five cities where they still are?" - -The duke's face flushed, his eyes sparkled, and his brow contracted. -What he replied, Jean Charost did not hear; but seeing a gentleman -close to the dauphin lay his hand upon his dagger, he caught him by -the arm, whispering, "Forbear! forbear!" - -At the same moment, one of the dauphin's officers, who had gone to -meet the duke, took that prince by the arm, saying, "Rise, sir--rise. -You are too honorable to remain kneeling." - -Whether the duke heard, or mistook him, I know not; but he turned -sharply toward him, with a fierce look, and, either moved by his -haughty spirit, or in order to rise more easily, he put his right hand -on the hilt of his sword; and Robert de Loire exclaimed, in a voice of -thunder, "Dare you put your hand on your sword in the presence of our -lord the dauphin!" - -"It is time that this should cease!" cried Tanneguy du Châtel, his -whole countenance inflamed, and his eyes flashing fire; and at the -same moment he struck the duke a blow with the ax he carried in his -hand. - -Burgundy started up, and partly drew his sword; but another blow beat -him on his knee again, and another cast him headlong to the ground. A -strong man, named Oliver de Laget and another sprang upon him, and -thrust a sword into his body. At the same moment, a scuffle occurred -at a little distance between one of the followers of the duke and some -of the dauphin's party, and Jean Charost saw a man fall; but all was -confused and indistinct. Horror, surprise, and a wild, grasping effort -of the mind to seize all the consequences to France, to England, to -himself, which might follow that dreadful act, stupefied and -confounded him. Every thing passed, as in a dream, with rapid -indistinctness, to be brought out vivid and strong by an after effort -of memory. That the duke was killed at the very feet of the dauphin, -was all that his mind had room for at the moment. - -The next instant a voice exclaimed, "Look to the dauphin--look to the -dauphin!" and Jean Charost saw him staggering back from the rail as -pale as death, and with his eyes half closed. - -It is not unlikely that many there present had contemplated as -possible some such event as that which had taken place, without any -definite purpose of effecting it, or taking any part therein. Popular -expectation has often something prophetic in it, and the warning -voice, which had rendered so many grave and thoughtful during the -whole course of that morning, must have been heard also by the actors -of the scene which had just passed. But one thing is certain, and the -whole history of the time leaves no doubt of the fact, that the -dauphin himself had neither any active share in his cousin's death, -nor any participation in a conspiracy to effect it. They bore him -back, fainting, to the little pavilion which had been raised for his -accommodation, and thence, after a time, led him, in profound silence, -to the abbey, while his followers secured a number of the Duke of -Burgundy's immediate attendants, and the soldiery, crowding on the -bridge, threatened the castle itself with assault. - -Jean Charost retired from the scene with a sad heart. His hopes were -disappointed; his fate seemed sealed; but though he felt all this -bitterly, yet he felt still more despondency at the thought of his -unhappy country's fate. Personal rivalry, selfish ambition, greed of -power and of wealth, undisciplined valor, insubordinate obstinacy, -were all urging her on to the verge of a precipice from which a -miracle seemed necessary to save her. The feelings which filled his -breast at that moment were very like those expressed by the -contemporary historian when he wrote, "Only to hear recounted this -affair is so pitiful and lamentable that greater there can not be; and -especially the hearts of all noble men, and other true men, natives of -the kingdom of France, must be of great sadness and shame in beholding -those of such noble blood as of the _fleur de lis_, so near of -kindred, themselves destroy one another, and the same kingdom placed, -in consequence of the facts above mentioned, and others past and done -before, in the way and the danger of falling under a new lord and -altogether going to perdition." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII. - - -To dwell minutely upon a period unfilled by action, and merely marked -by the revolution of day and night, even in the life of a person in -whom we have some interest, would be almost as dull as to describe in -detail the turning of a grindstone. It is not with the eventless -events of a history that we have to do--not with the flat spaces on -the road of life. We sit not down to relate a sleep or to paint a -fishpond. - -Little occurred to Jean Charost during the rest of his stay in France -that is worth the telling which will not be referred to hereafter. Let -us change the scene then, and, spreading the wings of Fancy, fly on -through the air of Time to a spot some years in advance. - -There was an old house, or rather palace, and well it deserved the -name, situated near the great city of London, close upon the banks of -the River Thames. Men now living can remember parts of it still -standing, choked up with houses, like some great shell of the green -deep incrusted with limpets and other tiny habitations of the vermin -of the sea. At the time of this history it had gardens running all -around it, extending wide and pleasantly on the water side, though but -narrow between the palace itself and the stone-battlemented wall which -separated them from the great Strand road leading from the Temple gate -of the city to the village of Charing. - -Fretted and richly carved in some parts, plain and stern in others, -the old palace of the Savoy combined in itself the architecture of -several ages. Many were the purposes it had served too--sometimes the -place of revelry and mirth--sometimes the witness of the prisoner's -tears. It had been the residence of John, king of France, during his -captivity in England some half century before; and since that time it -had principally served--grown almost by prescription to be so used--as -an honorable prison for foreign enemies when the chances of war -brought them in bonds to England. - -In the midst of the embattled wall that I have mentioned, and -projecting a little beyond its line, stood a great gate-house, which -has long since been pulled down, or has fallen, perhaps, without the -aid of man; and that gate-house had two large towers of three stories -each, affording very comfortable apartments, as that day went, to -their occasional tenants. They were roomy and pleasant of aspect -enough. One of these towers was appropriated to the wardens of the -Savoy and their families, while the other received at various times a -great number of different denizens, sometimes princes, sometimes -prisoners, sometimes refugees, people who remained but a few days, -people who passed there half a lifetime. The stone walls within were -thickly traced with names, some scrawled with chalk, or written in -ink; and among these the most conspicuous were records of the -existence there for several years of persons attached to the -unfortunate King John. - -It was a cheerful building in those days; nothing obscured the view or -hid the sunshine; and the smiling gardens, the glittering river, or -the busy high-road could be seen from most of the windows of the -palace. - -In a room on the first floor of the eastern tower of the gate-house, -Jean Charost is once more before us. Monterreau's blood-stained -bridge, the dauphin and the murderers, and the dying Duke of Burgundy, -have passed away; and there are but two women with him. Yes, I may -call them women both, though their ages are very far apart. One is in -the silver-haired decline of life, the other is just blossoming; they -are the withered flower and the bud. - -They were seated round a little table, and had evidently been talking -earnestly. Madame De Brecy's eyes had traces of tears on them, and -those of the young girl, turned up to Jean Charost's face, were full -of eagerness and entreaty. - -"In vain, dear mother--in vain," said Jean Charost. "My resolution is -as firm as ever. Jacques C[oe]ur is generous; but I can not lay myself -under such an obligation, and even at the most moderate rate, to raise -such a sum in the present state of France, would deprive you of two -thirds of your whole income. This captivity is weary to me. To remain -here year after year, while France has been dismembered, her crown -bought and sold, her fair fields ravaged, her cities become -slaughter-houses, has been terrible--has doubled the load of time, has -depressed my light spirits, and almost worn out hope and expectation. -But yet I will not trust the fate of two, so dear as you two are, to -the power of circumstances. You say, apply to Lord Willoughby. I have -applied; but it is in vain. He gives me, as you know, all kindly -liberty: no act of kindness or courtesy is wanting. But on one point -he is inflexible, and we all feel and know that he is ruled by a power -which he must obey. It is the same with others who have prisoners of -some consideration. They can not place them at reasonable ransom, -though the rules of chivalry and courtesy require it." - -"He seems a kind man, Jean," said the young girl, still looking in his -face. "He spoke gently and good-humoredly to me." - -"Ay, gentleness and good humor, my sweet Agnes," said Jean Charost, -"will not make a man disobey the commands of his monarch. Another -month, and I shall have lain a prisoner seven long years. Why, Agnes, -my hair is growing gray, while yours is getting darker every hour. I -can recollect your locks like sunshine on a hill, and now a raven's -wing is hardly blacker." - -"Ah, I saw a gray hair the other day in that curl upon your temple," -said the girl, with a laugh. "You will soon be a white-headed old man, -Jean, if you obstinately remain here, when our dear mother would -willingly sell all to free you. Though I think, after all, you are -getting a little younger since we came. We have now been three years -with you in this horrible country, and I think you look a year -younger." - -Jean Charost smiled, saying, "Certainly I do, Sunshine, else do you -shine in vain." - -"Well, I am going out to seek more sunshine," said the girl. "I will -wander away up the bank of the river, and say an ave at the -Blackfriars' Church. And then, perhaps, I will go into the Church of -the Templar's, and look at the tombs of the old knights, with their -feet crossed, and their swords half drawn; and then I will come back -again; for then it will be dinner-time. Good-by till then." - -She tripped away with a light step, down the stair-case, out upon the -road; and when Jean Charost looked after her out of the window he saw -her going slowly and thoughtfully along. But Agnes did not continue -that pace for any great distance. As soon as she was out of the gate -tower of the Savoy, she hurried on with great rapidity, turned up a -narrow lane between two fields on the west of the road, and, passing -the house of the Bishop of Lincoln, not even stopping to scent her -favorite briar rose which was thick upon the hedges, paused at a -modern brick house--modern in those days--with towers and turrets in -plenty, and the arms of the house of Willoughby hung out from a spear -above the gate. - -An old white-headed man sat upon the great stone bench beneath the -archway; and a soldier moved backward and forward upon a projecting -gallery in front of the building. A page, playing with a cat, was seen -further in under the arch, in the blue shade, and one or two loiterers -appeared in the court beyond, on the side where the summer sun could -not visit them. - -Agnes stopped by the porter's side, and asked if she could see the -Lord Willoughby. - -"Doubtless, doubtless," said the man, "if he be not taking his -forenoon sleep, and that can hardly be, for old Thomas of Erpingham -has been with him, and the right worshipful deaf knight's sweet voice -would well-nigh rouse the dead--'specially when he talks of Azincourt. -Go, boy, to our lord, and tell him a young maiden wants to see him. -Ah, I can recollect the time when that news would have got a speedy -answer. But alack, fair lady, we grow slow as we get old. Sit you down -by me now, till the page returns, and then the saucy fellows in the -court dare not gibe." - -Agnes seated herself, as he invited her; but she had not waited long -ere the boy returned, and ushered her through one long passage to a -room on the ground floor, where she found the old lord writing a -letter--with some difficulty it must be confessed; for he was no great -scribe--but very diligently. He hardly looked round, but continued his -occupation, saying, "What is it, child? The boy tells me you would -speak with me." - -"When you have leisure, my good lord," replied Agnes, standing a -little behind him. But the old man started at her voice, and turned -round to gaze at her. - -"Ah!" he exclaimed. "My little French lady, is that you? It is very -strange, your face always puts me in mind of some one else, and your -tongue does so too. However, there is no time in life to think of such -things. Sit you down--sit you down a moment. I shall soon have -finished this epistle--would it were in the fire. I have but a line to -add." - -He was near a quarter of an hour, however, in finishing that line; and -Agnes sat mute and thoughtful, gazing at his face, and, as one will do -when one has important interests depending on another, drawing -auguries from every line about it. It was a good, honest old English -face, with an expression of frank good nature, a little testiness, and -much courtesy; and the young girl drew favorable inferences before she -ended her reverie. - -At length the letter was finished, folded, sealed, and dispatched; and -then turning to Agnes, the old soldier took her hands in his, saying, -"I am glad to see you, my dear. What is it you want? Our friend at the -Savoy--your father--brother--husband--I know not what, is not ill, I -hope." - -"Very ill," replied Agnes, in a quiet, gentle tone. - -"Ha!" cried the old gentleman. "How so? What is the matter?" - -"He is ill at ease, my lord--sick at heart--is in a fever to return to -his own land." - -"You little deceiver," cried Lord Willoughby, laughing. "You made me -anxious about the good young baron, and now it is but the old story, -after all. But why should he pine so to get back to France? This is a -fine country--this a fine city; and God is my witness I do all I can -to make him happy. He is little more than a prisoner in name." - -"But still a prisoner, my lord," replied Agnes, with a touching -earnestness. "The very name is the chain. Think you not that to a -gentleman, a man of a free spirit, the very feeling of being a -prisoner is heavier than fetters of iron to a serf. You may cage a -singing-bird, my lord, but an eagle beats itself to death against the -bars. Would you be content to rest a captive in France, however well -treated you might be? Would you be content to know that you could not -revisit your own dear land, see the scenes where your youth had -passed, embrace your friends and relations, breathe your own native -air? Would you be content to sit down at night in a lonely room, not -in your own castle, and, looking at your wrists, though you saw not -the fetters there, say to yourself, 'I am a captive, nevertheless. A -captive to my fellowman--I can not go where I would, do what I would. -I am bound down to times and places--a prisoner--a prisoner still, -though I may carry my prison about with me!' Would any man be content -with this? and if so, how much less can a knight and a gentleman sit -down in peace and quiet, content to be a prisoner in a foreign land, -when his country needs his services, when every gentleman of France is -wanted for the aid of France, when his king is to be served, his -country's battles to be fought, even against you, my lord, and his own -honor and renown to be maintained?" - -"Ay; you touch me there--you touch me there, young lady," said the old -nobleman. "On my life, for my part, I would never keep a brave enemy -in prison, but have him pay only what he could for ransom, and then -let him go to fight me again another day." - -"Monsieur De Brecy's father," continued Agnes, simply, "died in a lost -field against the English. The son is here in an English prison. Think -you not that he envies his father?" - -"Perhaps he does, perhaps he does," cried Lord Willoughby, starting -up, and walking backward and forward in the room. "But what can I do?" -he continued, stopping before Agnes and gazing at her with a look of -sincere distress. "The king made me promise that I would not liberate -any of my prisoners, so long as he and I both lived, without his -special consent, except at the heavy ransoms he himself had fixed. My -dear child, you talk like a woman, and yet you touch me like a child. -But you can, I am sure, understand that it is not in my power; or, -upon my faith and chivalry, I would grant what you desire." - -The tears rose in Agnes's beautiful eyes. "I know you would be kind," -she said. "But his mother insisted upon selling all they have to pay -his ransom. He would not have it; for it would reduce her to poverty, -and I came away to see if I could not move you." - -"On my life," cried Lord Willoughby, "I have a mind to send you to the -king." - -"Where is he?" cried Agnes. "I am ready to go to him at once." - -The old lord shook his head: "He is in France," he said; and was going -to add something more, when a tall servant suddenly opened the door, -and began some announcement by saying, "My lord, here is--" - -But he was not suffered to finish the sentence; for a powerful, -middle-aged man, unarmed, but booted and spurred, pushed past him into -the room, and Lord Willoughby exclaimed, "Ha, Dorset! what brings you -from France? Has aught gone amiss?" - -There was some cause for the latter question; for there was more than -haste in the expression of the Earl of Dorset's countenance: there was -grief, and there was anxiety. - -With a hasty step he advanced to Lord Willoughby, laid his hand upon -his arm, and said something in a low voice which Agnes did not hear. -The old lord started back with a look of sorrow and consternation. -"Dead!" he exclaimed. "Dead! So young--so full of life--so needful to -his people. Dorset, Dorset; in God's name, say that my ears have -deceived me. Killed in battle, ha! Some random bolt from that petty -town of Cone, whither he was marching when last I heard. It must be -so. He, like the great Richard, was doomed to find such a fate--to -fall before an insignificant hamlet by a peasant's hand. He exposed -himself too much, Dorset--he exposed himself too much." - -Dorset shook his head: "No," he replied, "he died of sickness in his -bed; but like a soldier and a hero still--calmly, courageously, -without a faltering thought or sickly fear. Heaven rest his soul: we -shall never have a greater or a better king. But harkee, Willoughby, I -must go on at once and summon the council. Come you up with all speed; -for there will be much matter for anxious deliberation, and need of -wise heads, and much experience." - -"I will, I will," replied Lord Willoughby. "Ho, boy! without there. -Get my horses ready with all speed. Farewell, Dorset; I will join you -in half an hour. Now--Odds' life, my sweet young lady, I had forgot -your presence. What was it we were saying? Oh, I remember now. The -course of earthly events is very strange. That which brings tears to -some eyes wipes them away from others. Come hither; I will write a -note to your young guardian, and none but yourself shall be its -bearer. My duty to my king is done, and I am free to act as I will. -Stay for it; it shall be very short." - -He then drew a scrap of paper toward him, and wrote slowly, "The -ransom of the Baron De Brecy is diminished one half. - -"In witness whereof I have set my hand. - -"WILLOUGHBY." - -"There, take it, dear child," he said, "and let him thank God, and -thank you;" and drawing her toward him, he imprinted a kind and -fatherly kiss upon her forehead, and then led her courteously to the -door. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII. - - -Sometimes very small and insignificant occurrences, even when -anticipated and prepared for, produce mighty and unforeseen -consequences; sometimes great and startling events the least expected, -and the least provided against, pass away quietly without producing -any immediate result. - -Henry the Fifth of England had returned to France in high health, had -triumphed over all enemies, and had used the very storms and tempests -of passion and faction as instruments of his will. All yielded before -him; victory seemed his right; health and long life his privilege; and -success the obedient servant of his will. No one contemplated a -change--no one even dreamed of a reverse; defeat was never thought of; -death was never mentioned. There was no expectation, no preparation. -But in the midst of triumph, and activity, and energetic power, he was -touched by the transforming wand of sickness. Few hours were allowed -him to set his house in order; and in the prime of life and the midst -of glory, the successful general, the gallant knight, the wise -statesman, the ambitious king closed his eyes upon the world, and -nothing but a mighty name remained. - -What changes might have been expected to follow an event so little -contemplated! Yet very few, if any, occurred. His last hours, while -writhing on a bed of pain, sufficed to regulate all the affairs of two -great kingdoms, and his wisdom and foresight, as well as his energy -and resolution, were never more strongly displayed than on the bed of -death. All remained quiet; the sceptre of England passed from the hand -of the hero to the hand of the child; and in France no popular -movement of any importance showed that the people were awakened to the -value of the chances before them. All remained quiescent; the vigorous -and unsparing hand of Bedford seemed no less strong than had been that -of his departed brother; and, reduced to a few remote provinces, the -party of the dauphin was powerless and inert. - -It was while this state continued, that three persons entered the old -hall of the château of Brecy just as the sun was going down. The elder -lady leaned with a feeble and fatigued air upon the arm of Jean -Charost; Agnes had both her hands clasped upon his other arm, and all -three paused at the door, and looked round with an expression, if not -somewhat sad, somewhat anxious. All were very glad to be there again; -all were very glad to be even in France once more. But three years -make a great difference in men, in countries, and in places; and when -we return to an ancient dwelling-place, we are more conscious, -perhaps, of the workings of time than at any other period. We feel -within ourselves that we are changed, and we expect to find a change -in external objects also--we look to see a stone fallen from the -walls, the moss or mildew upon the paneling, the monitory dust -creeping over the floor, the symptoms of alteration and decay apparent -in the place of cherished memories. - -There was nothing of the kind, however, to be seen in the old hall of -the château of De Brecy. The evening rays of sunshine gliding through -the windows shone cheerfully against the wall; the room was swept and -garnished. All was neat and in good array; and it seemed as if, from -that little circumstance alone, Hope relighted her lamp for their -somewhat despondent hearts. - -"There may be bright days before us yet, my son," said Madame de -Brecy, in a calm, grave tone. - -"Oh, yes, there will be bright days," said Agnes, warmly and -enthusiastically. "We are back in France--fair bright France; we are -back, safe and well, and there must be happy days for us yet." - -"I wonder," said Jean Charost, thoughtfully, "who has kept up the -place so carefully. We left but poor old Augustine, incapable of much -exertion. The friendly offices of Jacques C[oe]ur must have had a hand -in this." - -"Not much, sir," said a voice behind him; "if that very excellent -gentleman will permit me to say so." - -Jean Charost turned round, and perceived Jacques C[oe]ur himself -entering the hall with a stout little man in a gardener's habit. I -say a gardener's habit, because in those blessed days, called the good -old times, which had their excellences as well as their defects, you -could tell a man's trade, calling, profession, or degree--at least -usually--by his dress. It was a good habit, it was a beneficial habit, -was an honest habit. You could never mistake a priest for a -life-guardsman, nor a shop-boy for a prime minister--nor the reverse. -In our own times, alas--in our days of liberty (approaching license), -equality (founded upon the grossest delusion), and fraternity (which, -as far as we have seen it carried, is the fraternity of Cain), we are -allowed to disguise ourselves as we will, to sail under any false -colors that may suit us, to cheat, and swindle, and lie, and deceive -in whatever garb may seem best fitted for our purpose. The vanity and -hypocrisy of the multitude have triumphed not only altogether over -sumptuary laws, but, in a great part, over custom itself and I know -nothing that a man may not assume, except the queen's crown, and God -protect that for her, and for her race forever! - -The gardener's habit, however, with the blue cloth stockings bound on -with leathern straps, was so apparent in the present instance, that -Jean Charost, who was unconscious of having a gardener, could not for -an instant conceive who the personage was, till the face of Martin -Grille, waxen like that of the moon at the end of the second quarter, -grew distinct to recollection. - -"He says true, my good friend, Monsieur de Brecy," said Jacques -C[oe]ur, "and right glad I am, his care should have so provided that -your first sight of your own house, on your return from captivity -should be a pleasant one. The only share I have had in this, as your -agent, has been to let him do what he would." - -"'Tis explained in a word, sir," said Martin Grille. "You told me you -could not afford to keep me while you were a prisoner; and I thought I -could afford to keep myself, out of the waste ground about the castle, -and keep the castle in good order too. I had always a fancy for -gardening when I was a boy, and had once a whole crop of beans in an -old sauce-pan, on the top of the garret where my mother lived in -Paris. The first five sous I ever had in my life was for an ounce of -onion seed which I raised in a cracked pitcher. I was intended by -nature for digging the earth, and not for digging holes in other -people's bodies; and the town of Bourges owes me some of the best -cabbages that ever were grown, when I am quite sure I should have -reaped any thing but a crop of glory if I had cultivated the fields of -war. However, here I am, ready to take up the trade of valet again, if -you will let me; and, to show that I have not forgotten the mystery, I -rubbed up all your old arms last night, brushed coats, mantles, -jerkins, houseaux, and every thing else I could find, and swept up -every room in the house to save poor old Augustine's unbendable back." - -In more ways than one, the house was well prepared for the return of -its lord, and, thanks to the care of good Martin Grille, a very -comfortable supper had not been forgotten. It was a strange sensation, -however, for Jean Charost, when the sun had gone down and the sconces -were lighted, to sit once more in his own hall, a free man, with -friendly faces all about him--a pleasant sensation, and yet somewhat -overpowering. The tears stood in Madame De Brecy's eyes more than once -during that evening; but Agnes, whose spirits were light, and who had -fewer memories, was full of gay joyfulness. - -Jean Charost himself was very calm; but he often thought, had he been -alone, he could have wept too. - -Thus some thought and some feeling was given to personal things; but -the fate, the state, the history of his country during his absence -occupied no small portion of his attention. In those days news -traveled slowly. Great facts were probably more accurately stated and -known than even now; for there was no complicated machinery for the -dissemination of falsehood, no public press wielded by party spirit -for the purpose of adulterating the true with the false. A certain -generosity, too, had survived the pure chivalrous ages, and men, even -during life, could attribute high and noble qualities to an enemy; but -details were generally lost. Jean Charost was anxious to hear those -details, and when they gathered round the great chimney and the -blazing hearth--for it was now October, and the nights were -frosty--Jacques C[oe]ur undertook to give his young friend some -account of all that had taken place in France since the battle of -Azincourt, somewhat to the following effect. - -"You remember well, my friend," he said, "that, after the fall of -Harfleur, John of Burgundy only escaped the name of traitor by a -lukewarm offer to join his troops to those of France in defense of -the realm. But he was distrusted, and probably not without cause. You -were already a prisoner in England when the Orleanist party obtained -entire preponderance at the court, and the young duke being in -captivity like yourself, the leading of that faction was assumed by -his father-in-law, the Count of Armagnac. Rapid, great, and perilous -was his rise, and fearless, bold, and bloody he showed himself. The -sword of constable placed the whole military power of France at his -disposal, and the death of the dauphin Louis left him no rival in -authority or favor. Happy had it been for him had he contented himself -with military authority; but he must grasp the finances too; and in -the disastrous state of the revenues of the crown, the imposts, only -justified by a hard necessity, raised him up daily enemies. His rude -and merciless severity, too, irritated even more than it alarmed, and -it was not long before all those who had been long indifferent went to -swell the ranks of his adversaries. True, his party was strong; true, -hatred of the Burgundian faction was intense in a multitude of -Frenchmen. But the great lords, and many of the princes attached to -the house of Orleans, were absent and powerless in English prisons. By -every means that policy and duplicity could suggest, John of Burgundy -strove to augment the number of his friends. All those who fled from -the persecution of Armagnac were received by him with joy and treated -with distinction. He increased his forces; he hovered about Paris; he -treated the orders of the court to retire, if not with contempt, with -disobedience. At length, however, he seemed to give up the hope of -making himself master of the capital, and retreated suddenly into -Artois. - -"Not judging his enemy rightly, the Count of Armagnac resolved to -seize the opportunity of an open path, in order to strike a blow for -the recovery of Harfleur; and, leaving a strong garrison in Paris, he -set out upon his expedition. No sooner was he gone, than John of -Burgundy hastened to profit by his absence, and rapid negotiations -took place between him and his partisans within the walls of Paris. -You know the turbulent and factious nature of the lower order of -citizens in the capital. Many of them were animated with mistaken zeal -for the house of Burgundy; more were eager for plunder, or thirsty for -blood; and one of the darkest and most detestable plots that ever -blackened the page of history was formed for the destruction of the -whole Armagnac party, and that, too, with the full cognizance of the -Duke of Burgundy. It was determined that, at a certain hour, the -conspirators should appear in arms in the streets of Paris, seize upon -the queen, the king, and the young dauphin, John, murder the-whole of -the Armagnac faction, and, after having seized the Duke of Berri and -the King of Sicily, load them with chains, and make a spectacle of -them in the streets of Paris mounted on an ox, and then put them to -death likewise. - -"The plot was frustrated by the fears or remorse of a woman, within a -few minutes of the hour appointed for its execution. Precautions were -taken; the royal family placed in safety; and Tanneguy du Châtel, at -the head of his troops, issued forth from the Bastile, and made -himself master of the houses and the persons of the conspirators. -There was no mercy, my friend, for any one who was found in arms. Some -suffered by the cord or hatchet, some were drowned in the Seine; and -Armagnac returning, added to the chastisement already inflicted on -individuals, the punishment of the whole city of Paris. Suspicion was -received as proof, indifference became a crime, the prisons were -filled to overflowing, and the very name of Burgundian was proscribed. -The troops of the Duke of Burgundy, which had approached the city of -Paris, were attacked in the open field, and civil war, in its most -desolating aspect, raged all around the metropolis. - -"Every sort of evil seemed poured out upon France, as if all the -fountains of Heaven's wrath were opened to rain woes upon the land. -Another dauphin was snatched away from us, and rumors of poison were -very general; but the death of one prince was very small in comparison -with the treason of another. There is no doubt, De Brecy, that John of -Burgundy, frustrated in his attempt upon Paris, entered into a league -with the enemies of his country, and secretly recognized Henry of -England as king of France. Dissensions arose between the queen and the -Count of Armagnac, in which our present dauphin, Charles, was so far -compromised as to incur the everlasting hatred of his mother. -Burgundy, the queen, and England, united for the destruction of the -dauphin and the Count of Armagnac, and vengeance and ambition combined -for the final ruin of the country. The politic King of England took -advantage of all, and marched on from conquest to conquest throughout -Normandy, while, by slow degrees, the Duke of Burgundy approached -nearer and nearer to the capital. The perils by which he was -surrounded appeared to deprive Armagnac of judgment: he seemed -possessed of the fury of a wild beast, and little doubt exists that he -meditated a general massacre of the citizens of Paris. But his crimes -were cut short by the crimes of others. The troops of Burgundy were in -possession of Pontoise. A well-disposed and peaceable young man, -insulted and injured by a follower of Armagnac, found means to -introduce his enemies into the city of Paris. At the first cry of -Burgundy, thousands rose to deliver themselves from the tyranny under -which they groaned, and, headed by a man named Caboche, retaliated, in -a most fearful manner, on the party of Armagnac, the evils which it -had inflicted. The prisons were filled; the streets ran with blood; -and the Count of Armagnac, himself forced to fly, was concealed for a -few hours by a mason, only to be delivered up in the end. The queen -and the Duke of Burgundy encouraged the massacre; the prisons were -broken into, the prisoners murdered in cold blood; the Châtelet was -set on fire, and the unhappy captives within its walls were driven -back into the flames at the point of the pike; and the leaders of the -Armagnac faction were dragged through the streets for days before they -were torn to pieces by the people. Tanneguy du Châtel alone showed -courage and discretion, and obtained safety, if not success. He -rescued the dauphin in the midst of the tumult, placed him in safety -at Melun, returned to the capital, fought gallantly for some hours -against the insurgents and the troops of Burgundy, and then retired to -counsel and support his prince. The queen and the Duke of Burgundy -entered the city in triumph; flowers were strewed before her on the -blood-stained streets; and a prince of the blood-royal of France was -seen grasping familiarly the hands of low-born murderers. But the -powers, which he had raised into active virulence, were soon found -ungovernable by the Duke of Burgundy, and he determined first to -weaken, and then to destroy them. The troops of assassins fancied -themselves soldiers, because they were butchers, and demanded to be -led against the enemy. The duke was right willing to gratify them, and -sent forth two bands of many thousands each. The first was beaten and -nearly cut to pieces by the Armagnac troops. The remnant murdered -their leaders in their rage of disappointment, but did not profit by -the experience they had gained. The second party were defeated with -terrible loss, and fled in haste to Paris; but the gates were shut -against them; and dispersing, they joined the numerous bands of -plunderers that infested the country, and were pursued and slaughtered -by the troops of Burgundy. Thus weakened, the insurgents, who had -brought back the Duke of Burgundy to Paris, were easily subjugated by -the duke himself: their leaders perished on the scaffold; and -thousands of the inferior villains were swept away by various indirect -means. A still more merciless scourge, however, than either Armagnac -or Burgundy was about to smite the devoted city--a scourge that spared -no party, respected no rank or station. The plague appeared in the -capital, and, in the space of a few months, the grave received more -than a hundred thousand persons of every age, class, and sex. In some -of these events perished Caboche, the uncle of your servant Martin -Grille, who, with the courage of a lion and the fierceness of a tiger, -combined some talents, which, better employed, might have won him an -honorable name in history." - -"And what has become of his son?" asked Jean Charost. "He was -attached, I think, to the court of the queen." - -"He left her," answered Jacques C[oe]ur, "and came hither to Bourges -with Marie of Anjou, the wife of the dauphin, when that prince removed -from Melun to Bourges. You know somewhat of what happened after--how -his highness was driven hence to Poictiers, how negotiations took -place to reunite the royal family; how divided counsels, ambitions, -and jealousies prevented any thing like union against the real enemy -of France; how, step by step, the English king made himself master of -all the country, almost to the gates of Paris. You were present, I am -told, at the death of the Duke of Burgundy--shall I, or shall I not -call it murder? Well had he deserved punishment--well had he justified -almost any means to deliver France from the blasting influence of his -ambition. But at the very moment chosen for vengeance, he showed some -repentance for his past crimes, some inclination to atone, and perhaps -the very effects of his remorse placed his life in the hands of his -adversaries. Would to God that act had not been committed." - -"And what has followed?" asked Jean Charost. "I have heard but little -since, except that at Arras a treaty was concluded by which the crown -of France was virtually transferred to the King of England on his -marriage with the Princess Catharine." - -"The scene is confused and indistinct," said Jacques C[oe]ur, "like -the advance of a cloud overshadowing the land, and leaving all vague -and misty behind it. Far from serving the cause of the dauphin, far -from serving the cause of France, the death of the Duke of Burgundy -has produced unmitigated evil to all. His son has considered vengeance -rather than justice, the memory of his father, rather than the -happiness of his country. Leagued with the queen, and with the King of -England, he has sought nothing but the destruction of the dauphin, and -has seen the people of France swear allegiance to a foreign conqueror -whom his connivance enabled to triumph. From conquest to conquest the -King of England has gone on, till almost all the northern part of -France was his, and the River Loire is the boundary between two -distinct kingdoms. Here and there, indeed, a large town and a strong -fortress is possessed by one party in the districts where the other -dominates, and a border warfare is carried on along the banks of the -river. But for a long time previous to King Henry's death, fortune -seemed to follow wherever he trod, and the whole western as well as -northern parts of France were being gradually reduced beneath his -sway. During a short absence in England, indeed, a false promise of -success shone upon the arms of the dauphin. A re-enforcement of six -thousand men from Scotland enabled him to keep the field with success, -and the victory of Baugé, the death of the Duke of Clarence, and the -relief of Angers, gave hope to every loyal heart in France. Money, -indeed, was wanting, and I was straining every nerve to obtain for my -prince the means of carrying on the war, when the return of Henry, and -his rapid successes in Saintonge and the Limousin cut me off from a -large part of the resources I had calculated upon, and once more -plunged us all into despair. The last effort in arms was the siege of -Cone, on the Loire, garrisoned by the Burgundian troops. The dauphin -presented himself before its walls in person, and the Duke of Burgundy -marched to its relief, calling on his English allies for aid. Henry -was not slow to grant it, and set out from Senlis to show his -readiness and his friendship. Death struck him, it is true, by the -way; but even in death he seemed to conquer, and Cone was relieved as -he breathed his last at Vincennes. Happily have you escaped, De Brecy; -for had the Lord Willoughby received intimation of the king's dying -commands before he freed you, you would have lingered many a long year -in prison. Well knowing that the captives of Azincourt would afford -formidable support to the party of the dauphin as soon as liberated, -it has always been Henry's policy to detain them in London, and almost -his last words were an order not to set them free till his infant son -had attained his majority. You are the only one, I believe, above the -rank of a simple esquire who has been permitted to return to France." - -"I owe it all to this dear girl," answered Jean Charost, laying his -hand upon the little hand of Agnes. "She went to plead for me at a -happy moment. But where is the dauphin now? He needs the arm of every -gentleman in France, and I will not be long absent from his army." - -"Army!" said Jacques C[oe]ur, with a melancholy shake of the head. -"Alas! De Brecy, he has no army. Dispirited, defeated, almost -penniless, seeing the fairest portions of his father's dominions in -the hands of an enemy--that father's name and authority used against -him--his own mother his most rancorous foe, the Duke of Burgundy at -the head of one army in the field, and the Duke of Bedford, hardly -inferior to the great Henry, leading another, he has retired, almost -hopeless, to the lonely Castle of Polignac; and strives, I am told, -but strives in vain, to forget the adversities of the past, and the -menaces of the future, in empty pleasures. An attempt must be made to -rouse him; but I can do nothing till I have obtained those means, -without which all action would be hopeless. To Paris I dare not -venture myself; but I have agents there, friends who will aid me, and -wealth locked up in many enterprises. Diligently have I labored during -the last month to gather all resources together; but still I linger on -in Bourges without receiving any answer to my numerous letters." - -"Can not I go to Paris?" asked Jean Charost. "You know, my friend of -old, that I want no diligence, and had once some skill in such -business as yours." - -Jacques C[oe]ur paused thoughtfully, and then answered, "It might, -perhaps, be as well. You have been so long absent, your person would -be unknown. When could you set out?" - -Jean Charost replied that he would go the very next day; and the -conversation was still proceeding upon these plans, when the sound of -a horse's feet was heard in the castle court, and in a minute or two -after, a tall, elderly weather-beaten man was brought in by Martin -Grille. Jean Charost looked at him, thinking that he recognized the -face of Armand Chauvin, the chevaucheur of the late Duke of Orleans; -but the man walked straight up to Jacques C[oe]ur, put a letter in his -hand, and then turned his eyes to the ground, without giving one -glance to those around. - -"This is good news, indeed," said Jacques, who had read the letter by -the light of a sconce. "A hundred thousand crowns, and two hundred -thousand more in a month! What with the money from Marseilles we may -do something yet. This is good news indeed!" - -"I have more news yet," said Chauvin, gravely. "Hark, in your ear, -Messire Jacques. I have hardly eaten or drank, and have not slept a -wink from the gates of Paris to Bourges, and Bourges hither, all to -bring you these tidings speedily. Hark in your ear!" and he whispered -something to Jacques C[oe]ur. The other listened attentively, gave a -very slight start, and appeared somewhat, but not greatly moved. - -"God rest his soul!" he said, at length. "He has had a troublous -life--God rest his soul!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX. - - -Who has not heard of the beautiful Allier? Who has not heard of the -magnificent Auvergne? But the horseman stopped not to gaze at the -mountains round him. He lingered not upon the banks of the stream; he -hardly gave more than a glance at the rich Limagne. At Clermont, -indeed, he halted for two whole hours, but it was an enforced halt, -for his horse broke down with hard riding, and all the time was spent -in purchasing another. A crust of bread and a cup of wine afforded the -only refreshment he himself took, and on he went through the vineyards -and the orchards, loaded with the last fruits of autumn. At Issoire he -gave his horse hay and water, and then rode on at great speed to -Lempole, but passed by its mighty basaltic rock, crowned with its -castle, though he looked up with feelings of interest and regret as he -connected it with the memory of Louis of Orleans. At Brioude he was -forced to pause for a while; but his horse fed readily, and on he went -again, out of the narrow streets of that straggling, disagreeable -town, over the mountains, through the valleys, with vast volcanic -forms all around him, and hamlets and villages built of the dark gray -lava, hardly distinguishable from the rocks on which they stood. More -than seventy miles he rode on straight from Clermont, and drew not a -rein between Brioude and Puy, which burst upon his sight suddenly on -the eastern declivity of the mountains, with its rich, unrivaled -amphitheatre, and its three rivers flowing away at the foot. The sun -was within a hand's breadth of the horizon. All the valleys seen from -that elevation were flooded with light; the old cathedral itself -looked like a resplendent amethyst, and devout pilgrims to the -miraculous shrine still crowded the streets, some turning on their way -homeward, some mounting the innumerable steps to say one prayer more -at the feet of the Virgin. - -Jean Charost rode straight up to the little old inn--small and -miserable as compared with many of the vast buildings appropriated in -those days to the reception of the traveler in France, and still -smaller in proportion to the number of devout persons who daily -flocked into the city. But then the landlord argued that the pilgrims -came for grace, and not for good living, and that therefore the body -must put up with what it could get, if the soul was taken care of. -Jean passed under the archway into the court-yard, gave his horse to -an hostler of precisely the same stamp as the man who afforded a type -to Shakspeare, and then, turning back toward the street, met the host -in the doorway, prepared to tell him that he must wait long for -supper, and put up with a garret. - -"I want nothing at present, my good friend," replied Jean Charost, -"but a cup of wine, which is ready at all times, and some one to show -me my way on foot to Espaly. Indeed, I should not have turned in here -at all, but that my horse could go no further." - -"Ah, sir," cried the host, with his civility and curiosity both -awakened together; "so you are going to see Monseigneur le Dauphin? -News now, I warrant, and good, I hope--pray, what is it?" - -"Excellent good," replied Jean Charost. - -"First, that a thirsty man talks ill with a dry mouth; and, secondly, -that a wise man never gives his message except to the person it is -sent to. The dauphin will be delighted with these tidings; and so now -give me a cup of wine, and some one to show me the way." - -"Ha, you are a wag!" said the landlord; "but harkee, sir; you had -better take my mule. It will be ready while I am drawing the wine, and -you drinking it. Though they say, 'Espaly, near Puy,' it is not so -near as they call it. My boy shall go with you on a quick-trotting ass -to bring back the mule." - -"And the news," said Jean Charost, "if he can get it. So be it, -however; for, good sooth! I am tired. I have not slept a wink for -six-and-thirty hours; but let them make all haste." - -"As quick as an avalanche, sir," said the landlord; "and God speed -you, if you bring good news to our noble prince. He loves wine and -women, and is exceedingly devout to the blessed Virgin of Puy; so all -men should wish him well, and all ladies too." - -The landlord did really make haste, and in less than ten minutes Jean -Charost was on his way to Espaly, along a sort of natural volcanic -causeway which paves the bottom of the deep valley. The sun was behind -the hills, but still a cool and pleasant light was spread over the -sky, and the towers of the old castle, with their many weather-cocks, -and a banner displayed on the top of the donjon, rising high above the -little village at the foot of the rock, seemed to catch some of the -last rays of the sun, and - - - "Flash back again the western blaze, - In lines of dazzling light." - - -The ascent was steep, however, and longer than the young gentleman had -expected. It was dim twilight when he approached the gates, but there -was little guard kept around this last place of refuge of the son of -France. Nested in the mountains of Auvergne, with a long, expanse of -country between him and his enemies, Charles had no fear of attack. -The gates were wide open, not a solitary sentinel guarded the way, and -Jean Charost rode into the court-yard, looking round in vain for some -one to address. Not a soul was visible. He heard the sound of a lute, -and a voice singing from one of the towers, and a merry peal of -laughter from a long, low building on the right of the great court; -but besides this there was nothing to show that the castle was -inhabited, till, just as he was dismounting, a page, gayly tricked out -in blue and silver, crossed from one tower toward another, with a -bird-cage in his hand. - -"Ho, boy!" cried Jean Charost; "can you tell me where I shall find the -servant of Mademoiselle De St. Geran; or can you tell her yourself -that the Seigneur de Brecy wishes to speak with her?" - -"Come with me, come with me, Beau Sire," said the boy, with all the -flippant gayety of a page. "I am going to her with this bird from his -highness; and this castle is the abode of liberty and joy. All iron -coats and stiff habitudes have been cast down in the chapel, and a vow -against idle ceremony is made by every one under the great gate." - -"Well, then, lead on," said Jean Charost "My business might well -abridge ceremony, if any did exist. Wait here till I return," he -continued, speaking to the innkeeper's son; and then followed the page -upon his way. - -The tower to which the boy led him was a building of considerable -size, although it looked diminutive by the side of the great donjon, -which towered above, and with which it was connected by a long -gallery, in a sort of traverse commanding the entrance of the outer -gate. The door stood open, as most of the other doors throughout the -place, leading into an old vaulted passage, from the middle of which -rose a narrow and steep stair-case of gray stone. A rope was twisted -round the pillar on which the stair-case turned; and it was somewhat -necessary at that moment, for, to say sooth, both passage and -stair-case were as dark as Acheron. Feeling his way, the boy ascended -till he came to a door on the first floor of the tower, which he -opened without ceremony. The interior of the room which this sudden -movement displayed, though darkness was fast falling over the earth, -was clear and light compared with the shadowy air of the stair-case, -and Jean Charost could see, seated thoughtfully at the window, that -lovely and never-to-be-forgotten form which he had last beheld at -Monterreau. Agnes Sorel either did not hear the opening of the door, -or judged that the comer was one of the ordinary attendants of the -place, for she remained motionless, plunged in deep meditation, with -her eyes raised to a solitary star, the vanward leader of the host of -heaven, which was becoming brighter and brighter every moment, as it -rose high above the black masses of the Anis Mountains. - -"Madam, here is a bird for you which his highness has sent," said the -page, abruptly. "Some say it is a nightingale; and, though his coat is -not fine, he sings deliciously." - -Agnes Sorel turned as the boy spoke, but she looked not at him, or the -cage, or the bird, for her eyes instantly rested upon the figure of -Jean Charost, as he advanced toward her, apologizing for his -intrusion. Though what light there was fell full upon him through the -open window, it was too dark for her to distinguish his features; but -his voice she knew as soon as he spoke, though she had heard it -but rarely. Yet there are some sounds which linger in the ear of -memory--echoes of the past, as it were--which instantly carry us -back to other days, and recall circumstances, thoughts, and feelings -long gone by, with a brightness which needs no eye to see them but -the eye of the mind. The voice of Jean Charost was a very peculiar -voice--soft, and full, and mellow, but rounded and distinct, like the -tones of an organ, possessing--if such a thing be permitted me to -say--a melody in itself. - -"Monsieur de Brecy!" she exclaimed, "I am rejoiced to see you here--no -longer a prisoner, I hope--no longer seeking ransom, but a free man. -But what brings you to this remote corner of the earth? Some generous -motive, doubtless. Patriotism, perhaps, and love of your prince. Alas! -De Brecy, patriotism finds cold welcome where pleasure reigns alone; -and as to love--would to God your prince loved himself as others love -him!" - -"What shall I say to his highness, madam?" asked the boy, whom she had -hardly noticed; "what shall I say about the bird?" - -"Tell him," replied Agnes, rising quickly from her seat--"tell him -that if I am a good instructor, I will teach that bird to sing a song -which shall rouse all France in arms--Ay, little as it is, and feeble -as may be its voice, I am not more powerful, my voice is not more -strong; and yet--I hope--I hope--Get thee gone, boy. Tell his highness -what I have said--tell him what you will--say I am half mad, if it -please you; for so I am, to sit here idly looking at that mountain and -that star, and to think that the banners of England are waving -triumphant over the bloody fields of France. Well, De Brecy--well," -she continued, as the boy retired and closed the door. "What news from -the court of the conquerors? What news from the proud city of London? -We have lost our Henry; but we have got a John in exchange. What -matters Christian names in these unchristian times? A Plantagenet is a -Plantagenet; and they are an iron race to deal with, which requires -more steel, I fear, than we have left in France." - -"My news, dear lady," replied Jean Charost, "is not from London, but -from Paris." - -"Well, what of Paris, then?" asked Agnes Sorel, in an indifferent -tone, taking another seat partly turned from the window. "Let me ask -you to ring that bell upon the table. It is growing dark--we must have -lights. One star is not enough, bright as it may be--even the star of -love--one star is not enough to give us light in this darksome world." - -Jean Charost rang the bell; but ere any attendant could appear, he -said, hurriedly, "Dear lady, listen to me for one moment: I bring -important news." - -"Good or bad?" asked Agnes Sorel, quickly. - -"One half is unmingled good," answered Jean Charost; "the other is of -a mixed nature, full of hope, yet alloyed with sorrow." - -"Even that is better than any we have lately had," replied Agnes. -"Nevertheless, I am a woman, De Brecy, and fond of joy. Give me the -unmingled first: we will temper it hereafter." - -"Well, then, dear lady, I am sent to tell his highness, from our good -friend Jacques C[oe]ur, that a hundred thousand crowns of the sun are -by this time waiting his pleasure at Moulins, and that two hundred -thousand more will be there in one month." - -"Joy, joy," cried Agnes, clasping her hands; "oh, this is joyful -indeed! But then," she added, "Heaven send that it be used aright. I -fear--oh, I fear--Nay, nay, I will fear no more! It is undeserved -misfortune crushes the noble heart, bows the brave spirit, and takes -its energy away from greatness. Have you told him, De Brecy? What did -he say? How did he look? Not with light joy, I hope; but with grave, -expectant satisfaction, as a prince should look who finds his people's -deliverance nigher than he thought." - -"I have not seen him," replied De Brecy, "first, because I knew not -well how to gain admission, and, secondly, because I wished that you -should have the opportunity of telling him of a change of fortunes, -hoping--knowing that you would direct his first impulses aright." - -"I--I?" exclaimed Agnes. "Oh, De Brecy, De Brecy, I am unworthy of -such a task! How should I direct any one aright? Yet it matters not -what I be--Weak, frail, faulty as I am--the courage and resolution, -the energy and purpose, which once possessed me solely, shall, all -that is left, be given to him and to France. One error shall not blot -out all that is good in my nature. Ha! here come the lights--" - -She paused for a moment or two, while the servant entered, placed -lights upon the table, and retired; and then, in a much calmer tone, -resumed the discourse. - -"I have been much moved to-day," she said, "but even this brief pause -of thought has been sufficient to show me the right way--Lights, you -have done me service," she added, with a graceful smile. "Come, De -Brecy, I will lead you to her who alone is worthy, and fitted to give -these good tidings--to my friend--to my dear good friend--the -princess, his wife." - -"But you have forgotten," replied Jean Charost. "I have other tidings -to tell." - -"Ha!" she said, "and those mingled--I did forget, indeed. Say what it -is, De Brecy. We must not raise up hopes to dash them down again." - -"That will not be the effect," said De Brecy. "The news I have is sad, -yet full of hope. That which has been wanting on the side of his -highness and of France, in this terrible struggle against foreign -enemies and internal traitors, has been the king's name. In his -powerless incapacity, the mighty influence of the monarch's authority -has been arrayed against the friends, and for the foes of France. Dear -lady, it will be so no more!" - -"No more!" exclaimed Agnes, eagerly, and with her whole face lighting -up. "Has he been snatched from their hands, then? Tell me, De Brecy, -how? when? where? But you look grave, nay, sad. Is the king dead?" - -"Charles the Sixth is dead," answered De Brecy. "But Charles the -Seventh lives to deliver France." - -"Stay--stay," said Agnes Sorel, seating herself again, and putting her -hand thoughtfully to her brow. "Poor king--poor man! May the grave -give him peace! Oh, what a life was his, De Brecy! Full of high -qualities and kindly feelings, born to the throne of the finest realm -in all the world, adored by his people, how bright were once his -prospects! and who would ever have thought that the life thus begun -would be passed in misery, madness, sickness, and neglect--that his -power should be used for his own destruction--his name lead his -enemies to battle against his son--his wife contemn, despise, and ill -treat him, and his daughter wed his bitterest foe--that he should only -wake from his insane trances to see his kinsmen murder and be murdered -before his face, all his sons but one passing to the tomb before -him--perchance by poison--and that he himself should follow before he -reached old age, without that tendance in his lingering sickness that -a common mechanic receives from tenderness, the beggar from charity? -Oh, what a destiny!" - -"We might well weep for his life," said De Brecy; "but we can not -mourn his death. To him it was a blessing; to France it may be -deliverance. This news, however, you have now to carry to the king." - -"True, true," cried Agnes; but then she paused a moment, and repeated -his last words with a thoughtful and anxious look. "To the king!" she -said; "to the king! No, I will take it to the queen, De Brecy. Come -you with me, in case of question, and to receive those honors and -rewards which are meet for him who brings such tidings. Ay, let us -speak it plainly--such good tidings. For on these few words, 'Charles -the Sixth is dead,' depends, I do believe, the salvation of our -France." - -As she spoke, she rose and moved toward the door, and De Brecy -followed her down the stair-case, and through the long passage which -connected the tower with the donjon. The yellow autumn moon peeped up -above the hills, and poured its light upon them through the tall -windows as they went. There was a solemn feeling in their hearts which -prevented them from uttering a word. The way was somewhat lengthy, but -at last Agnes stopped before a door and knocked. The sweet voice of -Marie of Anjou bade them come in, and Agnes opened the door. - -"Ah, my Agnes," cried the princess, "have you come to cheer me? I know -not how it is, but I have felt very sad to-night. I have been -moralizing, dear girl, and thinking how much happier I should have -been had we possessed nothing but this castle and the demesne around, -mere lords of a little patrimony, instead of seeing kingdoms called -our own, but to be snatched away from us. France seems going the way -of Sicily, my Agnes. But who is this you have with you? His face seems -known to me." - -"You have seen him once before, madam," said Agnes. "He is the bringer -of great tidings; but no lips but mine must give them to my queen;" -and, advancing gracefully, she knelt at the feet of Marie of Anjou, -and kissed her hand, saying, "Madam, you are Queen of France. His -majesty, Charles the Sixth, has departed." - -The queen stood as one stupefied; for so often had the unfortunate -king been reported ill, and then recovered, so little was known of his -real state beyond the walls of the Hôtel St. Pol, and so slow was the -progress of information in that part of France, that not a suspicion -of the impending event had been entertained in the château of Espaly. -After gazing in the face of Agnes for a moment, she cast down her eyes -to the ground, remained for a brief space in deep thought, and then -exclaimed, "But, after all, what is he? A king almost without -provisions, a general without an army, a ruler without power or means. -Rise, rise, dear Agnes;" and, casting her arms round her neck, Marie -of Anjou shed tears. They were certainly not tears of sorrow for the -departed, for she knew little of the late king; we do not even know -from history that she had ever seen him; but all sudden emotions must -have voice, generally in laughter, or in tears. It has been very -generally remarked that joy has its tears as well as sorrow; but few -have ever scanned deeply the fountain-source from which those drops -arise. Is it not that, like those of a sealed fountain unconsciously -opened, they burst forth at once, to sparkle, perhaps, in the sunshine -of the hour, but yet bear with them a certain chilliness from the -depths out of which they arise? - -Marie of Anjou recovered herself speedily, and Agnes Sorel, rising -from her knee, held out her hand to Jean Charost, and presented him to -the queen, saying, "He brings you happier tidings, madam--tidings -which, I trust, may give power to the sceptre just fallen into his -majesty's hand; ay, and edge his sword to smite his enemies when they -least expect it. By the skill and by the zeal of one I may venture to -call your friend as well as mine--noble Jacques C[oe]ur--the means -which have been so long wanting to make at least one generous effort -on behalf of France, are now secured. Speak, De Brecy--speak, and tell -her majesty the joyful news you bear." - -The young gentleman told his tale simply and well; and when he had -concluded, the queen, with all traces of sorrow passed away, -exclaimed, "Let us hasten quick, dear Agnes, and carry the news to my -husband! There be some men fitted for prosperity, and he is one. -Misfortune depresses him; but this news will restore him all his -energies. Oh, this castle of Espaly! It has seemed to me a dungeon of -the spirit, where chains were cast around the soul, and the fair -daylight of hope came but as a ray through the loophole of a cell. -Come with me--come with me, my friends! I need no attendants but you -two." - -Jean Charost raised a light from the table and opened the door, then -followed along the dark passages till they reached a small hall upon -the ground-floor, which the queen entered without waiting for -announcement or permission. Her light step roused no one within from -his occupation, and the whole scene was before her eyes ere any one -engaged in it was aware of her presence. She might, perhaps, have seen -another, less tranquil to look upon. At a table under a sconce, in one -corner of the room, sat a young man reading the contents of a book -richly illuminated. His cap and plume were thrown down by his side, -his sword was cast upon a bench near, and his head was bent over the -volume, with his eyes eagerly fixed upon the page, deciphering, -probably with difficulty, the words which it presented. In another -corner of the room, far removed from the light, and with his shoulders -supported by the angle of the building, sat Tanneguy du Châtel, sound -asleep, but with his heavy sword resting on his knees, and his left -hand lying upon the scabbard. Nearer to the windows--some seven paces -probably in advance--stood a boy dressed as a page, looking at what -was going on at a table before him, but not venturing to approach too -near. At that table, with a large candelabra in the centre, sat a -young gentleman of powerful frame, though still a mere lad, with a -slight mustache on the upper lip, and his strong black hair curling -round his forehead and temples. On the opposite side of the table, -nearest to the page, was Charles the Seventh himself. He was the only -one in the room who wore his cap and plume, and to the eyes of Jean -Charost--whether from prepossession or not, I can not tell--there -seemed an air of dignity and grace about his youthful figure which -well befitted the monarch. The thoughts of France, however, were -evidently far away, and his whole attention seemed directed to the -narrow board before him, on which he was playing at chess with his -cousin, the after-celebrated Dunois. - -Still the step of the queen and her companions did not rouse him: his -whole soul seemed in the move he was about to make, and it was not -till they were close by that he even looked round. - -Even then he did not speak, but turned his eyes upon the game again, -and in the end moved his knight so as to protect the king. - -"That is a good move," said his wife, taking a step forward; "but some -such move must be made speedily, my lord, upon a wider board." Then, -bending her knee, she added, "God save his majesty, King Charles the -Seventh!" - -Charles started up, nearly overturning the board, and deranging all -the pieces. "What is it, Marie?" he asked, looking almost aghast; but -Agnes Sorel and Jean Charost knelt at the same time, saying, "God save -your majesty! He has done his will with your late father." - -Up started Dunois, and waved his hand in the air, exclaiming, "God -save the king!" and the other three in the chamber pressed around, -repeating the same cry. - -Charles stood in the midst, gazing gravely on the different faces -about him, then slowly drew his sword from the scabbard, and laid it -on the table, saying, in a calm, thoughtful, resolute tone, "Once -more!" - - - - -CHAPTER XL. - - -How the news spread through the castle, I know not; but Charles VII. -had hardly recovered from the first surprise of the intelligence when, -without waiting for permission or ceremony, all whose station -justified their admission to the presence of the prince crowded into -the little hall of Espaly. A bright and beautiful sight it presented -at that moment; for it was a court of youth and beauty, and not more -than two or three persons present had seen thirty years of age. Hope -and enthusiasm was in every countenance, and the heavy beams of the -vault rang with the cries of "Long live the king." - -The bearer of the intelligence which had caused the acclamation seemed -likely to be altogether forgotten by the monarch in the gratulations -which poured upon him; but some bold, frank words of the young and -heroic lord of La Hire gave to generous Agnes Sorel an opportunity of -calling the attention of Charles to Jean Charost. - -"Ay, God save the king!" cried La Hire, warmly; "and send him some -more crowns in his purse to secure the one upon his head." - -Agnes whispered something to the young queen, and Marie of Anjou -turned gracefully toward De Brecy, saying, "This gentleman, my lord, -has something to tell your majesty on that score." - -"He is the messenger of all good tidings, sir," urged Agnes Sorel; -"but perhaps your majesty forgets him. He was the trusted friend of -your uncle of Orleans; he was wounded and made prisoner at Azincourt, -and his first steps upon French ground after his liberation brings you -tidings of dignity, and the promise of success. Speak, Monsieur De -Brecy. Tell his majesty the good news you have in store." - -Charles VII. fixed his eyes upon Jean Charost, and a shade came over -his face--not of displeasure, indeed, but of deep melancholy. It is -probable the memories awakened by the sight, as soon as he recognized -him, were very sorrowful. The bloody bridge of Monterreau, the dying -Duke of Burgundy, and all the fearful acts of a day never to be -forgotten, came back to memory; but the impression was but momentary; -and when he heard the tidings which the young gentleman bore of -present relief, and of the prospect of large future supplies, and was -made aware that he had also brought the news of his being King of -France, he smiled graciously upon him, saying, "How can we reward you, -Monsieur De Brecy? Few kings have less means than we have." - -At that moment, Tanneguy du Châtel--to whose disinterested character -history, dwelling on his faults, has not done full justice--came -forward, and laid his hand upon Jean Charost's shoulder, saying, "Give -him St. Florent, sir; which we were talking of the other day. Its lord -not having appeared for fully fifteen years, the fief has clearly -fallen into the demesne of the crown." - -"But I promised, Du Châtel," said Charles, turning toward him. - -"Never mind that, sire," said Du Châtel, bluffly. "I do not want it. -De Brecy here has served the crown well, and suffered for his -services. So did his father before him, I have been told. He brings -you good tidings--good tidings for France also, I do hope. Give him -the fief, sir. If I had it, every one would be jealous. No one will be -jealous of him." - -"Well, then, so be it," replied Charles. "The town and castle of St. -Florent, near Bourges, Monsieur De Brecy, shall be yours; but, by my -faith, you must keep them well; for the place is of importance, -commanding the supplies at Bourges. The letters of concession shall be -ready for you to-morrow, and you can do homage before you go, if you -will but stay at our court for a few days." - -"I must stay here, sire or at Puy, for the arrival of Messire Jacques -C[oe]ur," replied Jean Charost. "He has many another scheme for your -majesty's service. In St. Florent I will do my duty, and I humbly -thank you much for the gift." - -"Stay here, stay here," said Charles; and then he added, with a faint -and melancholy smile, "Our court is not so large as to fill even the -Castle of Espaly to overflowing. Some one see that he is well cared -for. And now, lords and ladies, other things are to be thought of. My -first thought, so help me Heaven, has been of France, and of what -benefit the event which has just happened may prove to her. But I can -not forget that I have lost a father, a kind and noble prince, whom -God has visited with long and sore afflictions, but who never lost the -love of his people or his son. I do believe, from all that I have -heard, that death was to him a blessing and relief; but still I must -mourn that so sad and joyless a life has ended without one gleam of -hope or happiness, even at the close. I had hoped that it might be -otherwise, that my sword might have freed him from the durance in -which he has been so long kept; that my care and love might have -soothed his latest hours. It has been ordered otherwise, and God's -will be done. But all to-morrow we will give up to solemn mourning, -and the next day take counsel as to instant action." - -Thus saying, he took the hand of the queen in his own, and was -retiring from the room, the group around him only moving to give him -passage, except one gentleman, who sprang to open the door. Two -persons were left in the midst of the little crowd, not exactly -isolated, but in circumstances of some awkwardness. Agnes Sorel, -notwithstanding all her influence at the court, notwithstanding all -her power over the mind of the young king, felt that the bonds between -herself and those who now surrounded her were very slight, and that -there were jealousies and dislikes toward her in the bosoms of many -present. But she was relieved from a slight embarrassment by the -unvarying kindness of Marie of Anjou. Ere Charles and herself had -taken six steps through the hall, the queen turned her head, saying, -with a placid smile, "Come with us, Agnes. I shall want you." - -"Marvelous, truly!" said a lady standing near Jean Charost, speaking -in a low tone, as if to herself. "Were I a queen, methinks I would -have the vengeance Heaven sends me, even if I did not seek some for -myself." - -At the same moment, Tanneguy du Châtel laid his hand upon Jean -Charost's arm: "You must come with me, De Brecy," he said. "You shall -be my guest in the château. I have room enough there where I lodge. -Wait but a moment till I speak a word or two with these good lords. We -must not let the tide of good fortune ebb again unimproved. The royal -name alone is a great thing for us; but it may be made to have a -triple effect--upon our enemies, upon our friends, and upon the king -himself. By my life, this is no time to throw one card out of one's -hand." - -He then spoke for several minutes in a low tone with Dunois, La Hire, -Louvet, and others, and, returning to the side of Jean Charost, led -him down to the outer court, on his way to that part of the building -which he himself inhabited. There, patiently waiting by the side of -the mule, they found the son of the landlord at Puy. The boy was -dismissed speedily, well satisfied, with directions to send up the -young gentleman's horse to the castle the next morning; and the rest -of the evening was spent by Jean Charost and Tanneguy du Châtel almost -alone. It was not an evening of calm, however; for the excitable -spirit of the _prévôt_ was much moved with all that had passed, and -with his prompt and eager impetuosity he commented, not alone upon the -news that had been received, but upon all their probable consequences. -Often he would start up and pace the room in a deep revery, and often -he would question his young companion upon details into which the king -himself had forgotten to inquire. - -"The happy moment must not be lost," he said. "The happy moment must -not be lost. The young king's mind must be kept up to the tone which -it has received by this intelligence. Would to Heaven I could insure -half an hour's conversation with the fair Agnes, just to show her all -the consequences of the first great step. But I do not like to ask it; -and, after all, she needs no prompting. She is a glorious creature, De -Brecy. Heart and soul, with her, are given to France." - -"Yet there be some," said Jean Charost; "some, even in this court, who -seem not very well disposed toward her. Did you hear what was said by -a lady near me just now?" - -"Oh, Joan of Vendôme," cried Tanneguy, with a laugh; "she is a -prescribed railer at our fair friend. She came to Poictiers two years -ago, fancying herself a perfect paragon of beauty, and making up her -mind to become the dauphin's mistress; but he would have naught to say -to her faded charms--not even out of courtesy to her husband; so the -poor thing is full of spleen, and would kill the beautiful Agnes, if -she dared. She is too cowardly for that, however: at least I trust -so." - -Jean Charost meditated deeply over his companion's words, and whither -his thoughts had led him might be perceived by what he next said. - -"Strange," he murmured, "very strange, the conduct of the queen!" - -"Ay, strange enough," answered Du Châtel. "We have here, within this -little château of Espaly, De Brecy, two women such as the world has -rarely ever seen, both young, both beautiful, both gentle. The one has -all the courage, the intellect, the vigor of a man; and yet, as we -see, a woman's weakness. The other is tender, timid, kind, and loving, -and yet without one touch of that selfishness which prompts to what we -call jealousy. By the Lord, De Brecy, it has often puzzled me, this -conduct of Marie of Anjou. I do believe I could, as readily as any -man, sacrifice myself to the happiness of one I love;[3] but I could -not make a friend of my wife's lover. There are things too much for -nature--for human nature, at least. But this girl--her majesty, I -mean--seems to me quite an angel; and the other does, I will say, all -that a fallen and repentant angel could to retain the friendship which -she fears she may have forfeited. All that deference, and reverence, -and humble, firm attachment can effect to wash away her offense, she -uses toward the queen; and I do believe, from my very heart, that no -counsel ever given by Agnes Sorel to Marie of Anjou has any other -object upon earth but Marie's happiness. Still, it is all very -strange, and the less we say about it the better." - -Jean Charost thought so likewise; but that conversation brought upon -him fits of thought which lasted, with more or less interruption, -during the whole evening. - -Society, in almost every country, has its infancy, its youth, its -maturity, and its old age. At least, such has been the case hitherto. -These several acts of life are of longer or shorter duration, -according to circumstances, but the several epochs are usually -sufficiently marked The age in which Jean Charost spoke was not one of -that fine, moralizing tendency which belongs to the maturity of life; -but it was one of passion and of action, of youth, activity, and -indiscretion. Nevertheless, feeling often supplied a guide where -reason failed, and from some cause Jean Charost felt pained that he -could not find one character among those who surrounded him -sufficiently pure and high to command and obtain his whole esteem. He -asked himself that painful question which so often recurs to us ere we -have obtained from experience, as well as reason, a knowledge of man's -mixed nature, "Is there such a thing as virtue, and truth, and honor -upon earth?" - -The next day was passed as a day of mourning; but on the following -morning early, all the nobles in the castle of Espaly met together in -the great hall, and some eager consultations went on among them. There -were smiles, and gay looks, and many a lively jest, and lances were -brought in, and bucklers examined, as if for a tournament. - -Jean Charost asked his companion, Du Châtel, the meaning of all that -they beheld; and the other replied, with a grave smile, "Merely a -boy's frolic; but one which may have important consequences." - -A moment after, the young king himself, habited in scarlet, entered -the hall, followed by a number of the ladies and gentlemen of the -court, and received gracefully and graciously the greetings of his -subjects. But an instant after, La Hire and two or three others -surrounded and pressed upon him so closely, that Jean Charost thought -they were showing scanty reverence toward the king, when suddenly a -voice exclaimed, "Pardon us, sire;" and in an instant spears were -crossed, a shield cast down upon them, and the young monarch lifted to -a throne which might have befitted one of the predecessors of -Charlemagne. Dunois seized a banner embroidered with the arms of -France, and moving on through the doors of the hall into the chapel, -the banner was waved three times in the air, and the voices of all -present made the roof ring with the shout of, "Long live King Charles -the Seventh!" - -Almost at the same time, another personage was added to the group -around the altar, and Jacques C[oe]ur himself repeated heartily the -cry, adding, "I have brought with me, sire--at least, so I trust--the -means to make you King of France, indeed. It is here in this château, -and all safe." - -"Thanks, thanks, my good friend," said the young king. "We must take -counsel together how it may be used to the best advantage; and our -deep gratitude shall follow the service, whatever be the result of the -use we make of it. And now, lords and ladies, to Poictiers -immediately--ay, to-morrow morning, to be solemnly crowned in the -Cathedral there. That city, at least, we can call our own, and there -we will deliberate how to recover others." - - - - -CHAPTER XLI. - - -What a wild whirlpool is history, and how strange it is to gaze upon -it, and to see the multitudes of atoms that every instant are rushing -forward upon the whirling and struggling waters of Time, borne -fiercely along by causes that they know not, but obey--now catching -the light, now plunged into darkness, agitated, tossed to and fro, -turned round in giddy dance, and at length swallowed up in the deep -centre of the vortex where all things disappear! It is a strange, a -terrible, but a salutary contemplation. No sermon that was ever -preached, no funeral oration ever spoken, shows so plainly, brings -home to the heart so closely, the emptiness of all human things, -the idleness of ambition, the folly of avarice, the weakness of -vanity, and the meanness of pride, as the sad and solemn aspect of -history--the record of deeds that have produced nothing, and passions -that have been all in vain. But there is a Book from which all these -things will at one time be read; and then, how awful will be the final -results disclosed! - -To men who make history, however, while floating round in that vortex, -and tending onward, amid all their struggles, to the one inevitable -doom, how light and easy is the transition, how imperceptible the -diminution of the circle, as onward, onward they are carried--how -rapid, especially in times of great activity, is the passage of event -into event. Time seems to stop in the heat of action, and energy, like -the prophet, exclaims, "Sun, stand thou still upon Gibeon; and thou, -Moon, in the valley of Ajalon!" - -It seemed to Jean Charost--after several years had passed--but as a -day and a night since he had left Agnes and his mother in the château -of Brecy, near Bourges. Each day had had its occupation, each hour its -thought: the one had glided into the other, and one deed trod so -hastily upon the steps of another that there was no opportunity to -count the time. And yet so many great events had happened that one -would have thought the hours upon the dial were marked sufficiently. -He had taken part in battles, he had been employed in negotiations, he -had navigated one of the many armed vessels, now belonging to Jacques -C[oe]ur, upon the Mediterranean, in search of fresh resources for -his king; and one of those lulls had taken place at the court of -France--those periods of idle inactivity which occasionally intervened -between fierce struggles against the foreign enemy, or factious cabals -among the courtiers themselves. He took his way from Poictiers toward -Bourges, to fulfill the promise he had often made to himself of -returning, at least for a time, to those he loved with unabated -fondness; and as he went, he thought with joy of his dear mother just -as he left her--not knowing that her hair was now as white as snow; -and his dear little Agnes--forgetting that she was no longer a mere -bright girl of fourteen years of age. - -But Jean Charost now no longer appeared as a poor youth struggling to -redeem his father's encumbered estates, nor as a soldier followed to -battle by a mere handful of followers. His train was strong and -numerous. The lands of St. Florent, so near his own castle and the -town of Bourges as to be under easy control of an intendant, had -furnished not only ample revenues but hardy soldiers, and with a troop -of some sixty mounted men, all joyful, like himself, to return for a -period to their homes, he rode gladly onward, a powerful man in full -maturity, with a scarred brow and sun-burned face, but, with the rich -brown curls of his hair hardly streaked with gray, except where the -casque had somewhat pressed upon it, and brought the wintery mark -before its time. But it was in the expression of his countenance that -youth was most strongly apparent still. There were no hard lines, no -heavy wrinkles. There was gravity, for he had never been of what is -called a very merry disposition, but it was--if I may be allowed an -expression which, at first sight, seems to imply a contradiction--it -was a cheerful gravity, more cheerful than it had been in years long -past. Success had brightened him; experience of the world and the -world's things had rubbed off the rust that seclusion, and study, and -hard application had engendered; and a kind, a generous, and an -upright heart gave sunshine to his look. - -The country through which he passed was all peaceful: the troops of -England had not yet passed the Loire; the Duke of Bedford was in -England, and his lieutenants showed themselves somewhat negligent -during his absence. After the fiercest struggle, the spirit of the -Frenchman soon recovers breath; and in riding from Poictiers to -Bourges, one might have fancied that the land had never known strife -and contention--that all was peace, prosperity, and joy. There was the -village dance upon the green; there was the gay inn, with its well-fed -host, and his quips, and jests, and merry tales; the marriage-bells -rang out; the procession of the clergy moved along the streets, and -there was song in the vineyard and the field. - -It was an evening in the bright, warm summer, when the last day's -march but one came toward an end; and on a small height rising from -the banks of the Cher, with a beautiful village at its foot, and woods -sweeping round it on three sides, appeared the old castle of St. -Florent, where Jean Charost was to halt for the night, and journey on -to De Brecy the following day. It was a pleasant feeling to his heart -that he was coming once more upon his own land; and there above, -upon the great round tower--for it was a very ancient building even -then--floated a flag which bore, he doubted not, the arms of De Brecy. -Just as he was passing one of the curious old bridges over the Cher, -with its narrow, pointed arches, and massy, ivy-covered piers, a flash -broke from the walls of the tower, and a moment after the report of a -cannon was heard. - -"They see us coming, and are giving us welcome, De Bigny," said Jean -Charost, turning to one of his companions who rode near. "Oh, 'tis -pleasant to enjoy one's own in peace. Would to Heaven these wars were -over! I am well weary of them." - -They rode on toward the slope, and entered a sort of elbow of the -wood, where the dark oak-trees, somewhat browned by the summer sun, -stretched their long branches overhead, and made a pleasant shade. It -was a sweet, refreshing scene, where the eye could pierce far through -the bolls of the old trees, catching here and there a mass of gray -rock, a piece of rich green sward, a sparkling rivulet dashing down to -meet the Cher, a low hermitate, with a stone cross raised in front, -and two old men, with their long, snowy beards, retreating beneath the -shady archway at the sight of a troop of armed men. - -"This is pleasant," said De Brecy, still speaking to his companion; -"but to-morrow will afford things still pleasanter. The face of Nature -is very beautiful, but not so beautiful as the faces of those we -love." - -A hundred steps further, and the gates of the old castle appeared in -view, crenelated and machicolated, with its two large flanking-towers, -and the walls running off and losing themselves behind the trees. But -there was the flutter of women's garments under the arch, as well as -the gleam of arms. The heart of De Brecy beat high, and, dashing on -before the rest, he was soon upon the draw-bridge. - -It is rarely that Fortune comes to meet our hopes. Hard -school-mistress! She lessons man's impatience by delay. But there they -were--his mother and little Agnes, as he still called her. The change -in both was that which time usually makes in the old and in the young; -and with old Madame De Brecy we will pass it over, for it had no -consequences. But upon the changes in Agnes it may be necessary to -pause somewhat longer. From the elderly to the old woman, the -transition is easy, and presents nothing remarkable. From the child to -the young woman the step is more rapid--more distinct and strange. -There is something in us which makes us comprehend decay better than -development. - -Agnes, who, up to the period when Jean Charost last beheld her, had -been low of stature, though beautifully formed, seemed to have grown -up like a lily in a night, and was now taller than Madame De Brecy. -But it was not only in height that she had gained: her whole form had -altered, and assumed a symmetry as delicate, but very different from -that which it had displayed before. Previously, she had looked what -Jean Charost had been fond to call her--a little fairy; but now, -though she might have a fairy's likeness, still there was no doubting -that she was a woman. Beautiful, wonderfully beautiful, she was to the -eyes of Jean Charost; but yet there was something sorrowful in the -change. The dear being of his memory was gone forever, and he had not -yet had time to become reconciled to the change. He felt he could not -caress, he could not fondle her as he had done before--that he could -be to her no longer what he had been; and he dreamed not of ever -becoming aught else. - -Strange to say, Agnes seemed to feel the change far less than he did. -Indeed, she saw no change in him. His cheek might be a little browner; -the scar upon his brow was new; but yet he was the same Jean Charost -whom she had loved from infancy, and she perceived no trace of Time's -hand upon his face or person. She had not yet learned to turn her eyes -upon herself, and the alteration in him was so slight, she did not -mark it. She sprang to meet him, even before his mother, held up her -cheek for his first kiss, and gazed at him with a look of affection -and tenderness, while he pressed Madame De Brecy to his heart, which -might have misled any beholder who knew not the course of their former -lives. - -But Jean Charost was very happy. Between the two whom he loved best on -all the earth, he entered the old château; was led by them from room -to room which he had never seen; heard how, as soon as they had -received news of his proposed return, they had come on from De Brecy -to meet him; how the hands of Agnes herself had decked the hall; and -how the tidy care of good Martin Grille had seen that every thing was -in due order for the reception of his lord. Joyfully the evening -passed away, with a thousand little occurrences, all pleasant at the -time, but upon which I must not dwell now. The supper was served in -the great hall, and after it was over, and generous wine had given a -welcome to De Brecy's chief followers, he himself retired, with his -mother and his fair young charge, to talk over the present and the -past. - -During that evening the conversation was rambling and desultory--a -broken, ill-ordered chat, full of memories, and hardly to be detailed -in a history like this. Jean Charost heard all the little incidents -which had occurred in the neighborhood of Bourges; how Agnes had -become an accomplished horse-woman; how she had learned from a -musician expelled from Paris to play upon the lute; how Madame De -Brecy had ordered all things, both on their ancient estates and those -of St. Florent, with care and prudence; and how there were a thousand -beautiful rides and walks around, which Agnes could show him, on the -banks of the Cher. - -Then again he told them all he himself had gone through, dwelling but -lightly upon his own exploits, and acknowledging, with sincere -humility, that he had been rewarded for his services more largely than -they deserved. Many an anecdote of the court, too, he told, which did -not give either of his hearers much inclination to mingle with it; how -the adhesion of the Count of Richmond had been bought by the sword of -Constable and other honors; how the somewhat unstable alliance of the -Duke of Brittany had been gained by the concession of one half of the -revenues of Guyenne; how Richmond had played the tyrant over his king, -and forced him to receive ministers at his pleasure; how he had caused -Beaulieu to be assassinated; and how, after a mock trial, he had tied -Giac in a sack, and thrown him into the Loire. Happily, he added, La -Trimouille, whom he had compelled the king to receive as his minister, -had avenged his monarch by ingratitude toward his patron; how Richmond -was kept in activity at a distance from the court, and all was quiet -for a time during his absence. Thus passed more than one hour. The sun -had gone down, and yet no lights were called for; for the large summer -moon shone lustrous in at the window, harmonizing well with the -feelings of those now met after a long parting. Madame De Brecy sat -near the open casement; Agnes and Jean Charost stood near, with her -hand resting quietly in his--I know not how it got there--and the fair -valley of the Cher stretched out far below, till all lines were lost -in the misty moonlight of the distance. Just then a solemn song rose -up from the foot of the hill, between them and St. Florent, and Agnes, -leaning her head familiarly on Jean Charost's shoulder, whispered, -"Hark! The two hermits and the children of the village, whom they -teach, are chanting before they part." - -Jean Charost listened attentively till the song was ended, and then -remarked, in a quiet tone, "I saw two old men going into the -hermitage. I hope their reputation is fair; for it is difficult to -dispossess men who make a profession of sanctity; and yet their -proximity is not always much to be coveted." - -"Oh yes, they are well spoken of," replied Madame De Brecy; "but one -of them, at least, is very strange, and frightened us." - -"It was but for a moment," cried Agnes, eagerly. "He is a kind, good -man, too. I will tell you how it all happened, dear Jean; and we will -go down and see him to-morrow, for he and I are great friends now. The -day after our arrival here, I had wandered out, as I do at De Brecy, -thinking myself quite as safe here as there, when suddenly in the -wood, just by the little waterfall, I came upon a tall old man, -dressed in a gray gown, and walking with a staff. What it was he saw -in me, I do not know; but the instant he beheld me he stopped -suddenly, and seemed to reel as if he were going to fall. I started -forward to help him; but he seized hold of my arms, and fixed his eyes -so sternly in my face, he frightened me. His words terrified me still -more; for he burst forth with the strangest, wildest language I ever -heard, asking if I had come from the grave, and if his long years of -penitence had been in vain; saying that he had forgiven me, and surely -I might forgive him; that God had forgiven him, he knew; then why -should I be more obdurate; and then he wept bitterly. I tried to -soothe and calm him; but he still held me by the arm, and I could not -get away. Gradually, however, he grew tranquil, and begged my pardon. -He said he had been suffering under a delusion, asked my name, and -made me sit down by him on the moss. There we remained, and talked for -more than half an hour; for, whenever I wished to go, he begged me -piteously to stay. All the time I remained, his conversation seemed to -me to ramble a great deal, at least I could not understand one half of -it. He told me, however, that he had once been a rich man, a courtier, -and a soldier, and that many years ago he had been terribly wronged, -and in a moment of passionate madness he had committed a great crime. -He had wandered about, he said, for some years as a condemned spirit, -not only half insane, but knowing that he was so. After that, he met -with a good man who led him to better hopes, and thenceforth he had -passed his whole time in penitence and prayer. When he let me go, he -besought me eagerly to come and see him in his hermitage, and, taking -Margiette, the maid with me, I have been down twice. I found him and -his companion teaching the little children of the village, and he -seemed always glad to see me, though at first he would give a sidelong -glance, as if he almost feared me. But he seemed to know much of you, -dear Jean, at least by name. He said you had always been faithful and -true, and would be so to the end, and spoke of you as I loved to hear. -So you must come down with me, and see him and his comrade." - -"I will see him," replied Jean Charost. He made no further remark upon -her little narrative; but what she told him gave him matter for much -thought, even after the whole household had retired to rest. - - - - -CHAPTER XLII. - - -When Jean Charost awoke, it was one of those pleasant, drowsy summer -mornings when the whole of nature seems still inclined to sleep, when -there is a softness in the air, a misty haze in the atmosphere, -streaky white clouds are half veiling the sky, and even the birds of -the bush, and the beasts of the field, seem inclined to prolong the -sweet morning slumber in the midst of the bounteous softness of all -around. A breath of air, it is true, stirred the trees; but it was -very gentle and very soft, and though the lark rose up from his fallow -to sing his early matins at heaven's gate, yet the sounds were so -softened by the distance, that one seemed to feel the melody rather -than to hear it. It was very early, and from the window no moving -object was to be seen except the mute herds winding on toward their -pasturage, a rook wending its straight flight overhead, and an early -laborer taking his way toward the fields. The general world was all -asleep; but, nevertheless, the young Lord De Brecy was soon equipped -in walking guise and wandering on toward the hermitage. He found its -tenants up, and ready for the mornings' labors; but one of them -welcomed him as an old acquaintance, and, leading him into their cell, -remained with him in conversation for more than an hour. - -De Brecy came forth more grave than he had gone in, though that was -grave enough, and immediately on his return to the castle messengers -were dispatched to several public functionaries in Bourges. It was -done quietly, however, and even those who bore the short letters of -their lord had no idea that his impulse was a sudden one, supposing -merely that he acted on orders received before he had set out from -Poictiers. - -Ere he joined his mother and Agnes too, De Brecy passed some time in -examining a packet of old papers, a few trinkets, and a ring, and then -walked up and down thoughtfully in his room for several minutes. Then -casting away care, he mingled with his household again, and an hour -went by in cheerful conversation. Perhaps Jean Charost was gayer than -usual, less thoughtful, yet his mother observed that once or twice his -eyes fixed upon the face of Agnes for a very few moments with a look -of intense earnestness and consideration. Nor was Agnes herself -unconscious of it; and once, for a single instant, as she caught his -look directed toward her, a fluttering blush spread over her cheek, -and some slight agitation betrayed itself in her manner. - -Shortly after she left the hall; and Madame De Brecy said, in a quiet -tone, but not without a definite purpose, "I doubt not we shall have -an early visit, my son, from a young neighbor of ours who lives -between this place and De Brecy: Monsieur De Brives, whose château, -and the village of that name you can see from the top of the tower. He -has frequently been to see us both here and at De Brecy--I believe I -might say to see our dear Agnes. You see, my dear son, how beautiful -she has become; and, to say the truth, I am very glad you have arrived -before this young gentleman has come to any explanation of his wishes; -for I could not venture to tell him even the little that I know of -Agnes's history, and yet he might desire some information regarding -her family." - -She watched her son's countenance quietly while she spoke, but she -could discover no trace of emotion thereon. Jean Charost was silent, -indeed, and did not reply for two or three minutes; but he remained -quite calm, and merely thoughtful. At length he asked, "Do you know, -my dearest mother, any thing of this young gentleman's character?" - -"It is very fair, I believe, as the world goes," replied Madame De -Brecy. "He seems amiable and kind, and distinguished himself in the -attack of Cone some years ago, I am told. He is wealthy, too, and -altogether his own master." - -"How does Agnes receive him?" asked Jean Charost, thoughtfully. - -"Friendly and courteously," replied his mother; "but I have remarked -nothing more. Indeed, I have given no great encouragement to his -visits, thinking that perhaps the dear girl might meet with a sad -disappointment if her affections became entangled, and her obscure -history were to prove an insurmountable obstacle in the eyes of the -man she had chosen." - -"Did it do so, he would be unworthy of her," answered Jean Charost, -rising, and walking slowly to and fro in the room. Then stopping -opposite to his mother, he added, "I have been thinking all this -morning, my dear mother, of telling Agnes every thing I can tell of -her history. It is a somewhat difficult and somewhat painful task, but -yet it must be done." - -"I think the sooner the better," replied Madame De Brecy. "I have long -thought so; but trusting entirely to your judgment, I did not like to -interfere." - -"Does she know that she is in no degree allied to us?" asked Jean -Charost. - -"Yes, yes," answered his mother; "that her own questions elicited one -day. I could see she would have fain known more; but I merely told her -she was an orphan committed to your care and guardianship. That seemed -to satisfy her, and she asked no more. But I think it is right that -she should know all." - -"She shall," answered Jean Charost. "I will tell her; but it must be -at some moment when we are alone together." - -"If you will give me any sign, I will quit the room," answered Madame -De Brecy. - -"No," replied her son, thoughtfully; "no: that will not be needful. I -could not tell it in a formal way. It must be told gently, easily, my -dear mother, in order not to alarm and agitate her. Some day when we -are riding or walking forth in the woods around, or on the castle -walls, I will say something which will naturally lead her to inquire. -Then, piece by piece, I will dole it out, as if it were a matter of -not much moment. There sounds the horn at the gates. Perhaps it is -this Monsieur De Brives." - -"What will you do if he speaks at once?" asked Madame De Brecy -quickly, adding, "I doubt not that he will do so." - -"I will refer him to Agnes herself," answered Jean Charost. "She must -decide. First, however, I will let him know as much of her history as -I may, and, as some counterpoise, will assure him that all which I -have gained by my labors or my sword shall be hers." - -"But you will some day marry, yourself, deal Jean--I hope, I trust -so," said his mother, earnestly. - -"Never!" answered her son; and the next moment Monsieur De Brives was -in the room. - -He was a tall, handsome young man, of some five or six-and-twenty, -polished and courteous in his manners, with a tone of that warm -sincerity in his whole address which is usually very winning upon -woman's heart. Why, it is hardly possible to say, Jean Charost -received him with somewhat stately coldness; and the first few words -of ceremony had hardly passed, when Agnes herself re-entered the room -and welcomed their visitor with friendly ease. De Brecy's eyes were -turned upon her eagerly. At the end of a few minutes, Monsieur De -Brives turned to Jean Charost, saying, "I am glad you have returned at -last, Monsieur De Brecy; for I have a few words to say to you in -private, if your leisure serves to give me audience." - -"Assuredly," replied De Brecy, rising; and whispering a word to his -mother as he passed, he led the way to a cabinet near, giving one -glance to the face of Agnes. It was perfectly calm. - -His conversation with Monsieur De Brives lasted half an hour, and some -time before it was over, Madame De Brecy quietly left the hall, while -Agnes remained embroidering a coat of arms. At length the two -gentlemen issued from the cabinet, and Monsieur De Brives took his way -at once to the room where Agnes was seated. Jean Charost, for his -part, went down to the lower hall, which had been left vacant while -his followers sported in the castle court. There, with a grave, stern -air, and his arms crossed upon his chest, Jean Charost paced up and -down the pavement, pausing once to look out into the court upon the -gay games going on; but he turned away without even a smile, bending -his eyes thoughtfully upon the old stones as if he would have counted -their number or spied out their flaws. The time seemed very long to -him, and yet he would not interrupt the lover in his suit. At length, -however, he heard a rapid step coming, and the next instant Monsieur -De Brives entered the hall, as if to pass through it to the court. His -face was deadly pale, and traces of strong emotion were in every line. - -"Well," cried De Brecy, advancing to meet him; "she has accepted -you--of course, she has accepted you." - -De Brives only grasped his hand, and shook his head. - -"Did you tell her you knew all?" asked De Brecy. "Did you tell her of -your generous--" - -"In vain--all in vain," said the young man; and, wringing De Brecy's -hand hard in his, he broke away from him, and left the castle. - -Jean Charost stood for an instant in the midst of the hall buried in -deep thought, and then mounted the stairs to the room where he had -left Agnes. He found her weeping bitterly; and going gently up to her, -he seated himself beside her and took her hand. "Dear Agnes," he said, -"you are weeping. You regret what you have done. It is not yet too -late. Let me send after him. He has hardly yet left the castle." - -"No, no--no!" cried Agnes, eagerly. "I do not regret what I have said, -though I regret having given him pain--I regret to give pain to any -thing. But I told him the truth." - -"What did you tell him?" asked Jean Charost, perhaps indiscreetly. - -Agnes's face glowed warmly, but she answered at once, "I told him I -could not love him as a woman should love her husband." - -"Bitter truth enough from such lips as those," said Jean Charost in a -low tone. - -"Indeed, indeed," cried Agnes, who seemed to feel some reproach in his -words, "I did not intend to grieve him more than I could help in -telling him the truth. But how could I love him?" she asked, with a -bewildered look; and then shaking her head sadly, she added, "no--no!" - -"Not a word more, dear Agnes," answered Jean Charost. "You did right -to tell him the truth; and I am quite sure you did it as gently as -might be. Now let us forget this painful incident as soon as we can, -and all be as we were before." - -"Oh gladly," cried Agnes, with a bright smile. "I hope for nothing, I -desire nothing but that." - -He soothed her with kindly tenderness, and soon whiled her away from -all painful thoughts, gradually and with more skill than might have -been expected, leading the conversation by imperceptible degrees to -other subjects and to distant scenes. The return of Madame De Brecy to -the room renewed for a time the beautiful girl's agitation; and Jean -Charost left her with his mother, with a promise to take a long ramble -with her that evening, and make her show him every fair spot in the -woods around the castle. - -Woman's heart, it is generally supposed, is more easily opened to a -fellow-woman than to a man; and sometimes it is so, but sometimes not. -If we have watched closely, most of us must have seen the secret -within more carefully guarded from a woman's eyes than from any -other--perhaps from a knowledge of their acuteness. Such, indeed, -might not--probably was not.--the case with Agnes. Nevertheless, it -was in vain that Madame De Brecy questioned her. She told all that had -occurred frankly and simply, every word that had been uttered, as far -as she could recollect them. But there was something that Agnes did -not tell--the cause of all that had occurred. True, she could not tell -it; for it was intangible to herself--misty, indefinite--a something -which she could feel, but not explain. Gladly she heard the trumpet -sound to dinner; for she had set Madame De Brecy musing; and Agnes did -not like that she should muse too long over her conduct of that day. - -Noon proved very sultry, and Jean Charost had plenty of occupation for -several hours after the meal. Horsemen came and went: he saw several -persons from Bourges, and several of the tenants of St. Florent. He -sent off a large body of the men who had accompanied him from -Poictiers to the neighboring city, and the castle resumed an air of -silence and loneliness. - -Toward evening, however, he called upon Agnes to prepare for her walk; -and as he paced up and down the hall waiting for her, Madame De Brecy -judged from his look and manner that he meditated speaking to his fair -charge, that very evening, on the delicate subject of her own history. - -"Be gentle with the dear girl, my son," she said, "and if you see that -a subject agitates her, change it. There is something on Agnes's mind -that we do not comprehend fully; and one may touch a tender point -without knowing it." - -"Do you suspect any other attachment?" asked Jean Charost, turning so -suddenly, and speaking so gravely, that his mother was surprised. - -"None whatever," she answered. "Indeed, I can not believe such a thing -possible. To my knowledge she has seen no one at all likely to gain -her affections but this Monsieur De Brives. The stiff old soldiers -left to guard this castle and De Brecy, good Martin Grille, and -Henriot, the groom, upon my word, are the only men we have seen." - -The return of Agnes stopped further conversation; and she and De Brecy -took their way out by one of the posterns on the hill. Agnes was now -as gay as a lark; the shower had passed away and left all clear; not a -trace of agitation lingered behind. De Brecy was thoughtful, but -strove to be cheerful likewise, paused and gazed wherever she told him -the scene was beautiful, talked with no ignorant or tasteless lips of -the loveliness of nature, and of the marvels of art which he had seen -since he was last in Berri; but there was something more in his -conversation. There was a depth of feeling, a warmth of fancy, a -richness of association which made Agnes thoughtful also. He seemed to -lead her mind which way he would; to have the complete mastery over -it; and exercising his power gently and tenderly, it was a pleasant -and a new sensation to feel that he possessed it. - -There was one very beautiful scene that came up just when the sun was -a couple of hands' breadth from the horizon. It was a small secluded -nook in the wood, of some ten or fifteen yards across, surrounded and -overshadowed by the tall old trees, but only covered, itself, with -short green grass. It was as flat and even, too, as the pavement of -the hall; but just beyond, to the southwest, was a short and sharp -descent, from the foot of which some lesser trees shot up their -branches, letting in between them, as through a window, a prospect of -the valley of the Cher, and the glowing sky beyond. - -"This is a place for Dryads, Agnes," said Jean Charost, making her sit -down by him on a large fragment of stone which had rolled to the foot -of an old oak. "Nymphs of the woods, dear girl, might well hold -commune here with spirits of the air." - -"I was thinking but the day before yesterday," said Agnes, "what a -beautiful spot this would be for a cottage in the wood, with that -lovely sky before us, and the world below." - -"It is always better," said Jean Charost, with a smile, "to keep the -world below us--or, rather, to keep ourselves above the world; but I -fear me, Agnes, it is not the inhabitants of cottages who have the -most skill in doing so. I have little faith either in cottages or -hermitages." - -"Do not destroy my dreams, dear Jean," said Agnes, almost sadly. - -"Oh, no," he answered, "I would not destroy, but only read them." - -Agnes paused, with her eyes bent down for a moment or two, and then -looked earnestly in his face: "They are very simple," she said, "and -easily read. The brightest dream of my whole life, the one I cherish -the most fondly, is but to remain forever with dear Madame De Brecy -and you, without any change--except," she added, eagerly, "to have you -always remain with us--to coax you to throw away swords and lances, -and never make our hearts beat with the thought that you are in battle -and in danger." - -Jean Charost's own heart beat now; and he was silent for a moment or -two. "That can not be, Agnes," he said, "and you would not wish it, my -dear girl. Every one must sacrifice something for his country--very -much in perilous times--men their repose, their ease, often their -happiness, their life itself, should it be necessary; women, the -society of those they love--brothers, fathers, husbands. Now, dear -Agnes, I am neither of these to you, and therefore your sacrifice is -not so much as that of many others." - -"I know you are not my father," answered Agnes. "That our dear mother -told me long ago; but do you know, dear Jean, I often wish you were my -brother." - -Jean Charost smiled, and seemed for a moment to hesitate what he -should reply. He pursued his purpose steadily, however, and at length -answered, "That is a relationship which, wish as we may, we can not -bring about. But, indeed, we are none to each other, Agnes. You are -only my adopted child." - -"No, not your child," she said; "you are too young for that. Why not -your adopted sister?" - -"I never heard of such an adoption," replied De Brecy; "but you are -like a child to me, Agnes. I have carried you more than one mile in my -arms, when you were an infant." - -"And an orphan," she added, in a sad tone. "How much--how very much do -I owe you, kindest and best of friends." - -"Not so much, perhaps, as you imagine, Agnes," replied Jean Charost. -"To save my own life in a moment of great danger, I made a solemn -promise to protect, cherish, and educate you, as if you were my own. I -had incautiously suffered myself to fall into the hands of a party of -ruthless marauders, who, imagining that I had come to espy their -actions, and perhaps to betray them, threatened to put me to death. -There was no possibility of escape or resistance; but a gentleman who -was with them, and who, though not of them, possessed apparently, from -old associations, great influence over them, induced them to spare me -on the condition I have mentioned. You were then an infant lying under -the greenwood-tree, and I, it is true, hardly more than a boy; but I -took a solemn promise, dear Agnes, and I have striven to perform it -well. Yet I deserve no credit even for that dear Agnes; for what I did -at first from a sense of duty, I afterward did from affection. Well -did you win and did you repay my love; and, as I told Monsieur De -Brives this morning, although at my death the small estate of De Brecy -must pass away to another and very distant branch of my own family, -all that I have won by my own exertions will be yours." - -"Do you think I could enjoy it, and you dead?" asked Agnes, in a sad -and almost reproachful tone. "Oh, no--no! All I should then want would -be enough to find me place in a nunnery, there to pray that it might -not be long till we met again. You have been all and every thing to me -through life, dear Jean. What matters it what happens when you are -gone?" - -Jean Charost laid his hand gently upon hers and she might have felt -that strong hand tremble; but her thoughts seemed busy with other -things. She knew not the emotions she excited--doubtless she knew not -even those which lay at the source of her own words and thoughts. - -"It is sad," she continued, after a brief pause, "never to have seen a -father's face or known a mother's blessing. To have no brother, no -sister; and though the place of all has been supplied, and well -supplied, by a friend, I sometimes long to know who were my parents, -what was my family. I know you would tell me, if it were right for me -to know, and therefore I have never asked--nor do I ask now, though -the thought sometimes troubles me." - -"I am ready to tell you all I know this moment," answered Jean -Charost; "but that is not much, and it is a sad tale. Are you prepared -to hear it, Agnes?" - -"No--not if it is sad," she answered. "I have been looking forward to -the time of your return, dear friend, as if every day of your stay -were to be a day of joy, and not a shadow to come over me during the -whole time. Yet you have been but one day here, and that has been more -checkered with sadness than many I have known for years. I have shed -tears, which I have not done before since you went away. I would have -no more sad things to-day. Some other time--some other time you shall -tell me all about myself." - -"All that I know," answered Jean Charost; "and I will give you, too, -some papers which, perhaps, may tell you more. There are some jewels, -too, which belong to you--" - -"See," said Agnes, interrupting him, as if her mind had been absent, -"the sun is half way down behind the edge of the earth. Had we not -better go back to the castle? How gloriously he lights up the edges of -the clouds, changing the dark gray into crimson and gold. I have often -thought that love does the like; and when you and our dear mother are -with me, I feel that it is so; for things that would be otherwise dark -and sad seem then to become bright and sparkle. Even that which made -me weep this morning has lost its heaviness, and as it was to be, I am -glad that it is over." - -"Will you never repent, my Agnes?" asked Jean Charost, with a voice -not altogether free from emotion. "Of this Monsieur De Brives I know -nothing but by report, yet he seemed to me one well calculated to win -favor--and perhaps to deserve it." - -"What is he to me?" asked Agnes, almost impatiently. "A mere stranger. -Shall I ever repent? oh, never--never!" - -"But you must marry some one nearly as much a stranger to you as he -is," replied Jean Charost. - -She only shook her head sadly, again answering, "Never!" - -Jean Charost was silent for a moment; and then rising, they returned -to the castle with nothing said of all that might have been said. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIII. - - -There was a great change in Agnes, and Madame De Brecy remarked it -immediately. Hers was an earnest, though a cheerful spirit, and when -she was thoughtful, those who knew her well might be sure she was -debating something with herself, examining some course of action, -trying some thought or feeling before the tribunal of her own heart. -All that night, and all the following morning, she was very -thoughtful. Her gayety seemed gone, and though she could both listen -and converse, yet at the least pause she fell back into a revery -again. - -Jean Charost, too, was a good deal changed, at least toward Agnes, and -the mother's eye marked it with very varied feelings. His manner was -more tender, his language more glowing; there was a spirit in his -words which had never been there before. He, too, was often very -thoughtful; but Jean Charost had other motives for thought besides -those connected with Agnes. Early on the morning of the day following -the incidents lately detailed, he sent a man up to the watch-tower -with others to keep his eye on the valley of the Cher, and Madame De -Brecy remarked that the soldiers who had remained at St. Florent were -no longer scattered about, either amusing themselves in the village, -or sporting in the court-yard, but were gathered together, all in busy -occupation, some cleaning and rubbing down their horses, some -polishing armor, or sharpening swords and lances, some skillfully -making arrows or quarrels for the crossbow. She refrained from asking -any questions till after the mid-day meal; but it was hardly over when -the horn of the watcher upon the tower was winded loudly, and De -Brecy, springing up from the table, ran up the stairs himself, as if -on some notice of danger. There were several of the chief persons of -his little band still around the board; but none of them moved or -showed any sign of anxiety, and, in truth, they had been so long -inured to hourly peril that danger had lost its excitement for them. - -The young lord was absent only a few minutes; but, on his return, he -did not resume his seat, merely saying to the soldiers around, "To the -saddle with all speed. Lead out all the horses. Some one bring me my -armor. Do not look pale, my mother; I know not that there is any cause -for alarm; but I heard yesterday that troops were tending toward -Bourges in a somewhat menacing attitude, and I think it may be as well -for us to leave St. Florent for a time, and return to De Brecy." - -"Are they English?" asked Madame De Brecy, evidently much frightened. - -"Not so," replied her son; "nor are they even the rebels on the -English part; but I grieve to say these are Royalists, perhaps more -dangerous to the king's cause than even his open enemies. I will tell -you the circumstances presently; for there may yet be some mistake. -The spears we have seen are very distant, and few in number. Our good -friend above was quite right to give the alarm; but neither he nor I -could at all tell what troops they were, nor in what force. I will go -back and see more in a moment. In the mean time, however, dear mother, -it would be well to have all prepared for immediate departure. I can -not receive these gentlemen as friends in St. Florent, and they may be -very apt to treat those who do not do so as enemies. Dear Agnes, get -ready in haste. Tell Martin Grille to have my mother's litter ready; I -will return directly." - -Thus saying, he again went up to the watch-tower, and remained gazing -along the valley of the Cher for ten minutes or a quarter of an hour. -There was much woodland in those days along that fair valley, and Jean -Charost could not satisfy himself. Spear heads he certainly descried; -but in the leafy covering of the scene they were lost almost as soon -as perceived, and he could not tell their numbers. At length he turned -to the warder, who stood silent, gazing out beside him, and pointed -out one particular spot in the landscape. "You see that large tree," -he said; "an evergreen oak, it seems to be. The road divides there -into two; one turns eastward to the right, the other comes toward the -north. Watch those men well as they pass that spot. They must all show -themselves there. If there be more than fifty, and they come upon this -road, blow your horn twice and come down. If they take the other road, -remain quiet where you are till I come." - -The preparations of Madame De Brecy, under the effect of fear, had -been very rapid; and she and Agnes were standing in the hall, ready -for departure. A page was there also, resting on a bench half covered -with armor, and, as soon as his lord appeared, he sprang to arm him, -asking, as Madame De Brecy had asked, "Are they the English?" - -"No, boy--no!" replied De Brecy and then, turning to his mother, he -said, "There is no need of great haste. We shall hear more presently. -The fact is, the Count of Richmond," he continued, in a quiet, -narrative tone, "has ridden the court somewhat too hard. He forced La -Trimouille upon the king, as I told you the other night; and now he -would rule La Trimouille, and, through him, his sovereign. He found -himself mistaken, however; for Trimouille is a very different person -to deal with from Giac or Beaulieu. Finding himself opposed, he -determined to employ force; joined with himself the Counts of La -Marche and Clermont, and advanced upon Chatellerault. When I left -Poictiers, the king had chosen a decided part, and ordered the gates -of Chatellerault to be closed against the counts. It was supposed, -indeed, that the matter would be soon accommodated; for Richmond is -needful to the king, and is himself but a mere cipher, except when -serving his royal master. But since my arrival here, I have heard -that, instead of submitting dutifully, he has levied larger forces, -and is marching upon Bourges. If the troops I have seen be his, we -shall soon hear more, and then--though doubtless there would be no -great danger in staying--it may be better to retire before them. How -do you go, dear Agnes? In the litter with my mother?" - -"Oh, no; I will ride," replied the beautiful girl. "I have become as -good a cavalier as any man in your band." - -"Well, then, you shall be my second page," said Jean Charost, with a -smile. "Come and buckle this strap on my shoulder--the boy can hardly -reach it." - -Agnes sprang forward and buckled the strap, and Jean Charost gayly -kissed her cheek, saying, "Thanks for the service, dear Agnes." - -His tone and manner were altogether so easy and unconcerned, that even -Madame De Brecy could hardly suppose that there was any cause for -fear; but, a moment after, the trumpet was heard to sound twice from -the tower above, and then the step of the soldier descending the -stairs heavily. - -"Now, dear mother," said Jean Charost, taking the old lady's hand, -"you must let me lead you to your litter; for these friends of ours -are coming this way. Run, boy, and tell Martin Grille and the rest to -mount, and be gone on the road to De Brecy. Come, Agnes, come." - -All were soon in the court-yard. It may seem an ungallant comparison; -but all light things are more easily moved than weightier ones, and -women, like dust, are soon disturbed by bustle. The very haste with -which her son spoke destroyed all Madame De Brecy's confidence, -agitated and alarmed her. Even Agnes felt a sort of thrill of -apprehension come over her heart. But in those perilous times people -were drilled into promptitude. Madame De Brecy and two of the maids -wee soon in the litter, and Agnes mounted on her horse by Jean -Charost's side. She had seen him in times of suffering and of -captivity; she had seen him go forth to battle and to danger; she had -seen him in the chivalrous sports which in those times were practiced -in almost every castle in the land; but she had never ridden by his -side in the hour of peril and command. On many a former occasion, deep -interest, compassion, admiration perhaps, had been excited in her -bosom; but now other sensations arose as she heard the clear, plain -orders issue from his lips, and saw the promptness and submission with -which all around obeyed. Surely woman was formed to yield, and, beyond -all doubt, there is something very admirable to her eyes in the -display of power. But she was to witness more before the day closed. - -As they issued forth upon the road down to the village of St. Florent, -nothing was to be seen which could create the least alarm; and, -turning toward Solier, all seemed fair and open. But still Jean -Charost was watchful and anxious, throwing out several men in front, -and detaching others to the rear, while, as they approached the little -valley which lies between the Cher and the Avon, and gives name to the -small hamlet of La Vallée, he sent one of the soldiers on whom he -could trust to the top of the church tower, to reconnoitre the country -around. The man came back at speed; and rejoined the party ere they -had proceeded far, bringing the intelligence that he had seen a -considerable body of horse following slowly at about half a league's -distance. - -"Then we have plenty of time," said Jean Charost, in an easy tone; but -still he rather hurried the horses, and, mounting the hill, the towers -of Bourges were soon in sight. - -At that time the road to Mont Luçon entered the road to Bourges much -nearer to the city than it does at present, and it was along the -former that the way of Jean Charost lay in going to De Brecy, if he -wished to avoid passing through the city itself. But as he approached -the point of separation, the sound of a trumpet on the right met his -ear, and, galloping up a little eminence, he saw a large body of -crossbow men, with some thirty or forty men-at-arms coming up from the -side of Luçon. They were near enough for the banners to be visible, -and he needed nothing more to decide him. Wheeling his horse, he -hurried down the hill again, and, speaking to his lieutenant, said, -"There are the men of La Marche in our way. There is nothing for it -but to go through Bourges." - -"Here is Hubert come back from the front, sir," replied the lieutenant -at once, "to tell us that they have got a party on the bridge over the -Avon. They shouted to him to keep back; so they will never let us pass -into Bourges." - -"The best reason for going forward," answered Jean Charost, in a gay -tone. "We are nicely entangled; but we have made our way through, -against worse odds than this. How many are there, Hubert?" - -"Much about our own numbers, fair sir," replied the man. "The others -are a great deal further off; but we are right between them." - -"Oh; Jean, will you be obliged to surrender?" asked Agnes, with a pale -face. - -"Surrender!" exclaimed Jean Charost, pointing to his pennon, which was -carried by one of the men. "Shall De Brecy's pennon fall, my Agnes, -before, a handful of rebels, and you by my side? Give me my lance. Now -mark me, Dubois. The bridge is narrow; not more than two can pass -abreast. You lead the right file, Courbeboix the left. Valentin, with -the eight last men, escort the litter and this lady. The object is to -give them a free passage. We must beat the rebels back off the bridge, -and then disperse them over the flat ground beyond. Go back to the -side of the litter, my Agnes. 'Twere better you dismounted and joined -my mother. Go back, dear girl; we must lose no time. Now, loyal -gentlemen, use the spur. They have bid us back; I say, forward!" - -Agnes was alarmed, but less for herself than for him; and, -notwithstanding the wish he had expressed, she kept her seat upon her -horse's back, with her eyes straining upon the front, where she saw -the plume of blue and white in De Brecy's crest dancing in the air, as -his horse dashed on. - -On the little party went; words were passed forward from front to -rear; quicker and quicker they moved forward, till a short turn of the -road showed them the bridge over the Avon, partly occupied by a party -of horse, several of whom, however, had dismounted, and seemed to be -gazing nonchalantly up toward the walls of Bourges. - -Jean Charost gave them no time to question or prepare; for he knew -right well who they were, and why they were there. Agnes saw him turn -for an instant in the saddle, shout loudly a word which she did not -clearly hear, and the next moment his horse dashed forward to the -bridge, at what seemed to her almost frantic speed. She saw him couch -his lance and bend over his saddle-bow; but the next instant, the -greater part of his troop following, hid him from her sight. There was -a momentary check to their headlong speed upon the bridge, and she -could clearly see some one fall over into the water. All the rest was -wild confusion--a mass of struggling men and horses rearing and -plunging, and lances crossed, and waving swords and axes. Oh, how her -young heart beat! But as she still gazed, not able to comprehend what -she beheld, one of the soldiers suddenly took her horse by the rein, -saying, "Come on, dear lady--come on. Our lord has cleared the way. -The bridge will be free in another minute. 'Tis seldom De Brecy gives -back before any odds." - -Agnes could have kissed him; but on they went, and she soon saw that -he was right. Driven on into the open space beyond the bridge, the men -of the Count La Marche still maintained the combat; but they were -evidently worsted, for some were beaten back to the right, some to the -left, and some got entangled in the marshy ground, and seemed scarcely -able to extricate their horses. To Agnes's great joy, however, she saw -the blue and white plume still waving on the right, and a clear space -before them up to the walls of the city. Forward pressed the man who -had hold of her rein; the litter came after it, as fast as the horses -could bear it, followed by three or four servants in straggling -disarray, but flanked on either side by several stout men-at-arms. -This was not all, however, which Agnes saw when she looked back to -assure herself of the safety of Madame De Brecy. On the other side of -the bridge, and across the marsh which lies to the east, she beheld a -large, dark body of spears moving on rapidly, and at the same time, as -they came closer to the walls of the town, cries and shouts were -heard, apparently from within. "By the Lord! I believe they have won -the city," exclaimed the soldier who was guiding her; and almost at -the same moment, a man from the battlement over the gate shouted -something to the conductor, who replied, "The Seigneur De Brecy, just -from Poictiers. Long live King Charles!" - -"Ride quick to the castle gate!" cried the man from above. "The Count -of Richmond is in the city. They are fighting in the streets; but we -are not enough to hold the town. To the castle--to the castle!" and he -himself ran along the battlements to the westward. - -Agnes's guide turned in the same direction, but was met by De Brecy -coming at full speed, a little in advance of his men, who now, -gathered all together again in good order, were approaching the gate -which Agnes and her companion had just left. - -Jean Charost heard the tidings with evident pain and anxiety; but -there was no time for deliberation, and, with one cheering word to -Agnes, he wheeled his horse and galloped on to another gate hard by, -close to which rose up the large round tower and smaller square keep -of the old citadel of Bourges. Strong works, according to the system -of fortification of that day, connected the castle with the gate -below, and the space between the wall and the marsh was very narrow, -so that the place was considered almost impregnable on that side. A -number of persons were seen upon the towers as Agnes rode on; and when -she reached the castle draw-bridge, she found De Brecy arguing with a -little group of armed men upon the crenelated gallery of the -gate-tower, who seemed little disposed to give him admission. - -"Tell Monsieur De Royans," he exclaimed, "that it is his old friend De -Brecy; and in Heaven's name make haste! They are rallying in our rear, -and the other squadrons coming on. You can not suppose that I would -attack and rout my own friends. You have yourselves seen us at blows -on the meadow. Wheel the men round there, Dubois, behind the litter," -he continued, shouting to his lieutenant. "Bring their spears down, -and drive those fellows into the marsh, if they come near enough." - -As he spoke, however, the chains of the draw-bridge began to creak and -groan, a large mass of wood-work slowly descended, and the portcullis -was raised. - -"Forward, Agnes, forward!" cried De Brecy, riding toward the rear; and -while he and a few of his followers kept the enemy in check, the rest -of the party passed over the bridge, till they were all closely packed -in the space between the portcullis and the gate. The latter was then -opened, and riding on, Agnes found herself in a small open sort of -court, surrounded by high walls, between the inner and the outer -gates. There were stone stair-cases leading up to the ramparts in -different directions, and down one of these flights a gentleman in -steel armor was coming slowly when the troop entered. - -"Where is De Brecy?" he exclaimed, looking down upon the group below. -"I do not see him. Varlet, you have not shut him out?" - -"No, no; I am here!" cried the voice of De Brecy, riding in from under -the arch, while the portcullis clanged, and the draw-bridge creaked -behind him. - -"Pardi! De Brecy," cried the man from above, "you have brought us a -heap of women. Men are what we want, for we have only provisions for a -week, and we shall be closely pressed, I can tell you." - -"Here are forty-seven horses," answered De Brecy, "which will feed the -whole castle for a month, in case of need. But is there no means of -passing through the town?" - -"Impossible!" cried the other. "They are just now fighting in the -castle street, to bring in safely the grain out of the corn-market." - -Agnes then, for the first time, became fully aware of her situation, -and that she was destined to be for some time the tenant of a small -citadel, closely besieged, and but very ill provided to resist. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIV. - - -The power of the mind to accommodate itself to all things is curiously -displayed in the zest and carelessness with which soldiers, in the -busy time of war, enjoy all short intervals of repose. The whole -morning had been passed in skirmishing in the streets of Bourges, in -strengthening every defense of the castle, and in collecting whatever -provisions could be found in the neighboring houses, so long as the -smallness of the force in the town permitted parties to issue forth -from the citadel. But in the course of the day, the troops of the -Count of La Marche and of the Count of Clermont entered Bourges, and -joined the Count of Richmond. A strong party was posted across the -river opposite to the gate of the castle, another occupied the bridge, -and the blockade of the citadel was complete. Weary, however, with the -long march and a morning's skirmishing, the troops of the revolted -lords did not press the siege during the rest of the day. The -defenders of the citadel, too, had but little opportunity of annoying -the enemy or serving themselves; and, from three o'clock till -nightfall, nothing occurred but an occasional shot of a cannon or a -culverine, directed at any group of the enemy who might appear in the -castle street, or at the parties on the opposite side of the river. -True, the citadel was surrounded on every side by a strong force; -true, the siege was likely to commence on the following day with vigor -and determination; but still a sort of tacit truce was established for -the time; and could any one have seen the little party of superior -officers seated together in the castle of Bourges that night at -supper, they would have seemed but a gay assembly of thoughtless men -met together on some occasion of merry-making. They laughed, they -talked, and some of them drank deep; but none of them seemed to give -one thought to their perilous situation, trusting confidently to the -precautions they had taken for defense, and to the care and faith of -those who had been left upon guard. - -Jean Charost, though perhaps the gravest of the party, seemed for the -time as indifferent to the fate of the citadel as the rest; and, -seated next to Juvenel de Royans, conversed upon any subject on earth -but the state of Bourges, dwelling upon former times and past-by -occurrences, the days they had spent together in the household of the -Duke of Orleans, their after meetings, and the fatal events of -Monterreau. - -"What a strange thing life is, De Brecy!" said his companion. "Here -you and I meet, first as enemies, and are ready to cut each others -throats; then as young friends and brothers-in-arms, ready to -sacrifice our lives for one another; and then here we are, beleaguered -in this fusty old château of Bourges, with Richmond, who never spares -an enemy, and La Marche, who seldom spares a friend, ready to dig us -out of our hole, as they would a badger on the side of a hill. I -forgot to mention our short meeting at Monterreau, for, by my faith! I -was too ill at that time even to do the honors of my quarters." - -"You seem wonderfully improved in health, De Royans," said Jean -Charost. "You look younger by four or five years than you did then." - -"But a poor, battered old soldier, after all," replied De Royans, -tossing up with his fingers one of the curls that hung at the back of -his neck. "You see I am as gray as a wild goose. However, I am much -better. A year's idleness on the banks of the Garonne, a little music, -and a great deal of physic, cured my wounds, loosened my stiff joints, -and enabled me to keep my horses back almost as well as ever. I have -got on in the world, too, De Brecy, have made some very nice little -captures, paid off many old debts, and got two companies of -arquebusiers under my command instead of one. I wish to Heaven I had -them all here. Had they been in the town, Richmond would never have -got in by the northwest gate." - -"I marvel much that he did, I will confess," replied Jean Charost. -"Two days ago I sent Monsieur de Blondel there intimation that Bourges -was in danger. I thought fit, indeed, to tell him the source from -which I received the intelligence; but still it might have kept him on -his guard." - -"Oh, I heard all about that," replied De Royans, laughing; "and we -were all more or less in fault. When Blondel got your letter, he held -it in his hand, after reading it, and cried out, in his jeering way, -'What's a hermit? and what does a hermit know of war?' Then said -Gaucourt, 'As much as the pig does of the bagpipe; and why should he -not?' and then they all laughed, and the matter passed by. But who is -this hermit who has got such good intelligence? On my life! De Brecy, -it would be well to have him in pay." - -"That you could hardly have," replied De Brecy. "He was once a famous -soldier, my friend, but has met with many disasters in life. I went to -see him upon other matters; but the intelligence he gave me, -transmitted from mouth to mouth, I believe, all the way from -Chatellerault to St. Florent, seemed so important that I left him -without even touching upon my object. He is looked upon as a saint by -all the country round, and the peasantry tell him every thing they -hear." - -"But what, in Fortune's name, took you to a saint?" asked Juvenel de -Royans, laughing "Was it to ask for absolution for wandering about the -land with that lovely little creature you brought hither?" - -Jean Charost looked grave, but answered calmly, "That was no sin, I -trust, De Royans, for I may call her my adopted daughter. She had, -indeed, something to do with my going to see him, for he has great -knowledge of her fate and history; and I wished to learn more than he -has ever yet told me. It is time that she herself should know all. She -will, it is true, have all I die possessed of; but still I could wish -the mystery of her birth cleared up." - -"Why, surely this is not the infant you brought out of the wood near -Beauté sur Marne--the child we had so many jests upon?" exclaimed De -Royans. - -"The very same," replied Jean Charost. "She has been as a child to me -ever since." - -"We thought she was your child then," replied De Royans. "Heaven help -us! I have learned to think differently since of many things, and -would gladly have wished you joy of your babe, if you had acknowledged -her, right or wrong; but, as it was, we all vowed she was yours, and -only called you the sanctified young sinner. Two or three times I went -down to good Dame Moulinet's to see if I could not get the truth out -of her; but; though she seemed to know much, she would say little." - -"Do you know if Dame Moulinet be still living, and where she is?" -asked Jean Charost. - -"She was living a year ago, and not ten miles from Bourges," replied -De Royans. "In the village of Solier, hard by the Cher. I had one of -her sons in my troop. She and her husband are well to do now, for they -have got her father's inheritance. They were tenants of that old -Monsieur de Solier whose daughter our dear lord and master, the Duke -of Orleans, carried off by force from her husband." - -Jean Charost started, and exclaimed, "Merciful Heaven!" - -"Ay, it was bad enough," said De Royans. "Our noble lord had his -little faults and his great ones; and some of them. I have a notion, -imbittered his last hours. This, above all others, I believe, affected -him, for it had a terrible termination, as I dare say you remember." - -"No--no," answered Jean Charost; "I never heard of it before. How did -it end?" - -"Why, the lady died," said De Royans, gravely. "No one of the -household very well knew how, unless it was Lomelini. Some say that -she was poisoned--some, that she was stabbed in her sleep." - -"Not by the duke!" exclaimed Jean Charost, with a look of horror. - -"God forbid!" cried Juvenel de Royans, eagerly. "He only loved her too -well. No; there were strange tales going; but certain it is she died, -and her death nearly deprived the duke of reason, they thought. Now, I -recollect, you first came about that very time. The lady had been ill -some months; but, as there was the cry of a babe in the house--one -might hear it from the garden--we thought that natural enough. Her -death, however, surprised us all. Hypocritical Lomelini would have us -believe that it was remorse that killed her; but there were a great -many strange things took place just then. One of the judges of the -Châtelet was brought to the palace--there were secret investigations, -and I know not what. Your coming about that time made us think you had -something to do with the affair. Some said you were her younger -brother. But what makes you look so sad, De Brecy?" - -"The subject is a sad one," answered Jean Charost; "and, moreover, new -lights are breaking upon me, De Royans. Do you think, if Lomelini is -still living, he could give me information upon those events?" - -"He could, if he would," answered his companion. "He is living, and as -sleek as ever, and Abbot of Briare; but I can tell you, I think, all -that remains to be told. Poor old Monsieur De Solier died of grief. I -shall never forget his coming to the Palais d'Orleans, to persuade the -duke to give his daughter up, nor the despair of his countenance when -the duke would not see him. The husband made away with himself, I -believe, which was a pity, for they say this Count De St. Florent was -as good a soldier as any of his day, and had fought in many a battle -under Charles the Fifth. However, he never was heard of more, from the -time the duke carried off his wife, during his absence. That is all -that is to tell. One--two--three, died miserably for a prince's -pleasures; and he himself had his heart wrung with remorse, which is -better, perhaps, than could be said of most princes. It is a sad -history, though a brief one." - -"And the child?" said De Brecy. - -Juvenel de Royans looked suddenly up with an inquiring glance. "I do -not know," he said. "But do you think--do you really believe--" - -"I know nothing," replied Jean Charost. "The duke told me nothing of -all this. I had fancied he might have something of importance to -communicate; and, indeed, something was said about giving me some -papers; but he was murdered, and--" - -"Did you never get the packet Lomelini had for you?" asked De Royans. - -Before Jean Charost could answer, a soldier came into the hall, -saying, "Is there a Monsieur de Brecy here?" - -"He is here, young man; what do you want?" asked De Brecy. - -"A letter addressed to you, sir," answered the soldier, advancing -toward him. - -All eyes turned at once upon the bearer of the letter and him to whom -it was addressed; and De Blondel, who was in command, exclaimed, "A -letter, by the Lord! Unless we have taken to writing letters to one -another, the gates of the old château must be more open than we -thought." - -"I found it on an arrow-head, sir, just within the east barbican," -replied the soldier. - -"Well, well. What contains it?" asked the other, impatiently. "News, -or no news, good or bad, Seigneur De Brecy?" - -"News, and good news," replied Jean Charost, who had by this time -received the letter and unfolded it; "hear what he says;" and he -proceeded to read from the somewhat crooked and irregular lines before -him the following words: - -"FAITHFUL AND TRUE,--This is to have you know that King Charles is -already on the march for your deliverance. Hold out to the last, and -two days will see the royal banner before Bourges. Let not your -companions slight this notice as they slighted the last; for the -shameful loss of Bourges can only be repaired by the brave defense of -the castle." - -"He touched us there pretty sharply," said Blondel; "and, 'pon my -life, what he says is true; so I, for one, swear by this flagon of -wine--and if I don't keep my vow may I never drink another--that I -will bury myself under the ruins of the castle before I surrender it. -What say you, gentlemen? Will you all touch the tankard, and take the -vow?" - -They all swore accordingly; for the chivalrous custom of making such -rash vows had not departed, though Chandos, one of the most remarkable -of vow-makers, had laid his head in the grave nearly half a century -before. It must be confessed, however, that Jean Charost took the oath -unwillingly, for there were lives in that castle dearer to him than -his own. - - - - -CHAPTER XLV. - - -This is not a book of battles and sieges--those fire-works of history -which explode with a brief space of brilliant light, and leave nothing -but dust, and tinder, and darkness. The man who gave an account of the -three great battles of the world, and explained that he meant those -which had permanently affected the destinies of the human race, -probably named three too many. There is nothing so insignificant as a -battle. The invention of the steam-engine was worth a thousand of the -greatest victories that ever were achieved. - -This is no hook of battles and sieges, and, therefore, I will pass -over lightly the events of the two succeeding days. Suffice it, the -counts of Richmond, Clermont, and Marche pressed the Castle of Bourges -with all the means and appliances they could command. They attacked it -from the country side; they attacked it from the city; they assailed -the gates and barriers sword in hand; they endeavored to escalade the -walls; but they were met at every point with stern and determined -resistance, and though by no means well prepared for defense, the -château held out; the besiegers lost many men, and gained nothing. - -In the midst of these scenes, Jean Charost was not inactive. Now on -the walls, now at the barricades, and now quietly sitting in the high -upper chamber of the round tower, with Agnes, and his mother, and -their maids plying the busy silk with trembling fingers, he tried to -give encouragement to the soldiery, and to restore confidence and -calmness to the women. There was something in his aspect, something in -the perfect serenity of his look and manner, in the absence of every -sign of agitation and anxiety on his face, which was not without its -effect, and the news which he brought of the speedy coming of the King -of France to the relief of his faithful vassals besieged in Bourges -afforded bright hope and expectation. The services of himself and -those whom he brought were great to the defenders of a citadel too -large for the numbers it contained; and his quiet, unassuming bravery, -his activity and ready presence of mind, won for him that respect -which pretension, even well founded, could not have gained. - -"I always knew he would make a good soldier," said Juvenel de Royans, -somewhat proud of his friendship and their long companionship; and -Blondel himself, one of the first knights of France, admitted that he -had never seen a clearer head or stronger hand exercised in the hour -of danger. - -At first sight, it may seem strange to say that the news of the king's -march, which brought hope and relief to the whole garrison--and, in -one sense, to himself also--filled him, when considered in another -point of view, with grief and alarm. But when Jean Charost considered -what must necessarily be the consequence--at a moment when more than -one half of France was in possession of a foreign invader, and the -first vassal of the crown in arms against his sovereign--of an actual -struggle between the monarch in person, and three of those who had -been his chief supporters, his heart sunk as he thought, what might be -the fate of France. During many a moment throughout the first and -second day, when a pause took place in the attack, he meditated -somewhat sadly of these things; but he was not a man only to meditate, -without action; and toward evening he took De Blondel aside to confer -with him as to what was to be done. A few words presented the subject -to the mind of the other in the same light in which it appeared to -himself, and he then said, "I wish you very much to consider this, -Monsieur De Blondel, as I think an opportunity is afforded you of -rendering great service to France. Were I in your place, I would open -negotiations at once with the constable, and represent to him the -consequences that are likely to ensue. It would be no slight honor to -you if you could induce him to cease the attack, and draw off his -forces, even before the king appears, and little less if you could -commence a negotiation which might be carried on after his majesty's -arrival, and heal these unhappy dissensions." - -"By the Lord," cried Blondel, "if I were the king, I would have the -head of every one of them, who by his insolent ambition and rebellious -spirits gives strength to the arm of our foreign adversary, and takes -away the strength of France. Nevertheless, I suppose he is obliged to -temporize. But there are many difficulties in the way, my good friend. -You are a negotiator, I am told, as well as a soldier. I know nothing -of such things, and should only make a blunder. I should never know -how to use the knowledge we possess of the king's coming without -betraying the secret to the enemy." - -"Well, leave it to me," said De Brecy. "I will act in your name." - -De Blondel mused for a minute. "On the condition," he said, at length, -"that there is no talk of surrendering the castle; and also that you -say nothing of the king's movements till he is actually in sight. But -who will you get to go? On my life, the task is somewhat perilous; for -Richmond is just the man either to hang any one who pretends to oppose -his will, or drown him in a sack, as he did Giac." - -"I will go," replied De Brecy. "I have no fear. The constable is -violent, haughty, domineering; but at heart he has a sincere love for -France, a bitter hatred of the English, and devotion to the royal -cause. Giac he scorned, as well as hated; and besides, Giac stood in -his way. Me he neither scorns nor hates, nor wishes to remove. By your -leave, I will send out for a safe-conduct by a flag of truce, and you -shall give me a general authority to treat, though, of course, not to -conclude." - -De Blondel was easily led in such matters. A good soldier and a -gallant man, he commanded skillfully and fought well; but his -political views were not very far-sighted, and he was one of those -persons who fancy they save themselves half the trouble of decision by -looking only at one side of a question. The authority was given as -amply as Jean Charost desired, and nearly in words of his own -dictation: a flag of truce was sent out to demand a pass for the -Seigneur De Brecy, in order to a conference with the lord constable, -and the bearer speedily returned with the paper required, reporting -that he had remarked much satisfaction among the rebel leaders at the -message which he had carried them, in which they doubtless saw an -indication of some intention to capitulate. - -A slight degree of agitation was apparent upon Blondel's face, as Jean -Charost, divested of his harness, and armed only with sword and -dagger, prepared to set out upon his enterprise. "I do not half like -to let you go, sir knight," he said. "This Richmond is a very furious -fellow. There is no knowing what he may do." - -"I do not fear," repeated Jean Charost. "But, in case of any accident, -De Blondel, I trust in your honor and your kindness to protect the -ladies whom I leave here with you. They have some thirty or forty men -with them who would each shed the last drop of his blood in their -defense; but the honor of a knight, and that knight De Blondel, is a -surer safeguard than a thousand swords." - -The gates of the castle were soon passed; and the first barricade -which the assailants had raised in the Rue du Château was reached -without question. Some half dozen men were lying on a pile of straw -behind, lighted by a solitary lantern; but two of them started up -immediately, and, though neither of them could read a word of the -pass, they both seemed to have been previously informed of what they -had to do; for they insisted upon bandaging De Brecy's eyes, and -leading him on blindfold, as if conducting him through the works of a -regular fortress. He submitted with a smile; for he knew every step of -the city of Bourges from his childhood, and could almost tell every -house that they passed as he was led along. The tread of the broad -stone sill of the gateway where they at length stopped was quite -familiar to him; and it was without surprise that, on the bandage -being removed, he found himself in the court-yard of his old friend -Jacques C[oe]ur. - -Conducted up a narrow stair-case, in one of the congregation of square -towers, of which the building principally consisted, he was introduced -into a small, but very tall cabinet, lined with gilt leather hangings. -In the midst stood a table, with three gentlemen surrounding it, and a -lamp, swinging overhead and showing a mass of papers on the board, the -stern, square-cut head of the constable bent over them, the mild and -rather feeble expression of the Count La Marche, and the sharp, -supercilious face of the Count of Clermont. - -"Here is Monsieur De Brecy, I presume," said the latter, addressing -Richmond. - -The constable started up, and held out his hand frankly, saying, -"Welcome, welcome, De Brecy. Sit down. There's a stool. Well," he -continued, as soon as the guard was gone, and the door closed, "what -cheer in the castle?" - -"Very good cheer, my lord," replied De Brecy. "We have not yet -finished the pullets, and horse-flesh is afar off." - -The Count La Marche laughed; but Richmond exclaimed, somewhat -impatiently, "Come, let us to the point. You are frank and free -usually, De Brecy. Say what terms of capitulation you demand, and you -shall speedily have my answer." - -"You mistake my object altogether, my lord," replied De Brecy. "The -castle is less likely to capitulate than when first you sat down -before it. There are now men enough within to defend it for a month -against five times your force, unless you shoot better than you have -done these last two days; and we have provisions for some months, as -well for our own mouths as for those of the culverins." - -"Then, in the devil's name, what did you come here for?" exclaimed -Richmond, angrily. - -"Upon business, my lord," replied De Brecy, "which I should wish to -communicate to you alone." - -"No, no. No secrets from these gentlemen," said the constable; and -then added, with a hard, dry laugh, "we are all chickens of one coop, -and share the same grain and the same fate. Speak what you have to say -before them." - -"Be it so, if you desire it, my lord," replied De Brecy. "I came to -offer an humble remonstrance to you, sir, and to point out a few facts -regarding your own situation"--Richmond gave an impatient jerk in his -chair, as if about to interrupt him; but De Brecy proceeded--"and that -of the citadel, which I think have escaped your attention." - -"Ay, ay; speak of the citadel," answered Richmond. "That is what I -would fain hear of." - -"I have told you, my lord," replied De Brecy, "that the citadel can -and will hold out for more than a month, and nothing that you can do -will take it. Long before that month is at an end, the king himself -will be here to give it relief." - -"Well, let him come," exclaimed Richmond, impatiently. "We may have -the citadel before he arrives, for all you say." - -"I think not, sir," answered De Brecy; "and if you knew as much of the -affair as I do, you would say so too. But let us suppose for a moment -that the castle does hold out, and that the king arrives before you -can take it--" - -"Perhaps we can deal with both," cried Richmond. - -"And ruin France!" answered De Brecy. "I will never believe that the -Count of Richmond--the loyal, faithful Count of Richmond--that the -Count of La Marche, allied to the royal race; or the Count of -Clermont, well known for his attachment to the throne, would be seen -fighting against their sovereign at the very moment when, surrounded -by foreign enemies, he is making a last desperate struggle for the -salvation of his country and your own." - -He turned slightly toward the Count La Marche as he spoke, and -Richmond exclaimed, in a furious tone, "Speak to me, sir. I am -commander here. By the Lord, if you attempt to corrupt my allies, I -will have your head off your shoulders." - -"You forced me to speak in their presence, my lord," replied Jean -Charost, coolly; "and, whatever I have to say must be said as boldly -as if they were not here." - -"Nay, nay; let him speak, good cousin," said the Count La Marche. "It -is but right we should hear what he has to say." - -"My noble lord constable," said Clermont, "can not blame Monsieur De -Brecy for acting on his own orders. We were his dear allies a moment -ago, and partners of all his secrets. Why should we not hear the -young gentleman's eloquence?" - -"Would I were eloquent!" replied De Brecy. "I would then show you, my -lords, what a spectacle it would hold up to the world, to see one of -the first officers of the crown of France, and two of the first -noblemen of the land, from some small personal disgusts at the king's -prime minister, violating their allegiance, frustrating all their -sovereign's efforts to save his country, plunging the state, already -made a prey to enemies by military factions, into greater danger and -confusion than ever, and destroying the last hope for safety in -France." - -Richmond rolled his eyes from the speaker to the two counts, and from -their faces to that of De Brecy again, while his fingers clasped -ominously round the hilt of his dagger. "Let him do us justice," he -cried; "let him do us justice, and we will sheathe the sword." - -"Even if he have not done you justice," said De Brecy, boldly, "is -this a moment to unsheathe the sword against your lord--that sword -which he himself put into your hands? Is this a time, when every true -son of France should sacrifice all personal considerations, and shed -the last drop of his blood, were it necessary, for the deliverance of -his country, to take advantage of the difficulties of his sovereign in -order to wring concessions from him by force of arms? But has he not -done you justice, my lord constable? Twice has his minister been -sacrificed to your animosity. A third time you quarrel with the -minister whom you yourself forced upon him, and plunge your unhappy -country, already torn to pieces by strangers, into civil war, because -the king will not, for the third time, submit to your will. Are his -ministers but nine-pins, to be set up and knocked down for your -pleasure? Are they but tools, to be used as you would have them? and -are you an officer of the king, or his ruler?" - -The constable started up, with his drawn dagger in his hand, and would -probably have cast himself on De Brecy, had not the Count La Marche -interposed. - -"Hold, hold!" he cried, throwing himself in the way. "No violence, -Richmond. On my life, he speaks well and truly. We are here for the -public good--" - -"At least we-pretend so," said the Count of Clermont. "Really, my lord -constable, you had better let Monsieur De Brecy go on, and speak -quietly. We presume that he can say nothing that you would not wish us -to hear, being chickens of the same coop, as you yourself have said; -and the sharp arguments you seemed about to use might convince him, -but could not convince us." - -Richmond threw himself into his seat again, and thrust the dagger back -into its sheath. - -"Let us consider calmly," said the Count La Marche, "what are to be -the consequences if the king does come to the relief of this castle -before we have taken it." - -"Simply that we shall be besieged in the good city of Bourges," said -the Count of Clermont, "and pass three or four months very pleasantly, -with such diet and exercise as a besieged city usually affords." - -"Merely to get rid of La Trimouille," said the Count La Marche. - -The door suddenly opened as he spoke, and a gentleman, armed all but -the head, entered in haste. "I beg your pardon, my lords," he said; -"but I have thought fit to bring you instant intelligence that -trumpets have been heard in the direction of Pressavoix, and some of -the peasantry report that the king is there with a large force." - -"So soon!" said Richmond. - -"Got between us and Paris!" said the Count of Clermont. - -"The very movement is a reproach, my lords," replied De Brecy. "It -shows that the king, unhappily, has been led to infer, from the -surprise of Bourges, that three of the noblest men in France are in -league with the common adversary. Oh, wipe away such a stain from -your names, I beseech you! Send somebody to the king to make -representations, if nothing more; and let not the Englishmen see true -Frenchmen shedding each other's blood, while they are riding -triumphant over the land. My life for it, if you have any real -grievances, they will be redressed when properly represented." - -"It is false!" cried Richmond, vehemently, catching at some of De -Brecy's words, and not heeding the rest. "We have no league with the -enemy. We are faithful vassals of the crown of France; but we can be -loyal to the king without being servile to his minister." - -"I doubt you not in the least, my lord," replied De Brecy. "Had I -believed you disloyal, I never would have come hither. I have sought -but to show you what language your actions speak, without ever -questioning the truth and, fidelity that is in your heart. All I -beseech you now to do, is to send some one at once to the king to -negotiate terms of accommodation, and to show the loyalty you feel, -before passion lead you into absolute treason." - -"I think the proposal is a very good one," said the Count La Marche. -"We can do no harm by negotiating." - -"At all events, it will put our adversaries in the wrong," said -Clermont. "What say you, Richmond?" - -"Well, well," said the constable, "I say yea also, although I have -known more great successes cut short, more mighty enterprises -frustrated, more good hopes crushed by small negotiation than by -battle or defeat. However, so be it. Let some one go, though, good -faith, I know not who will be the man, being sure of one thing, that, -were I Tremouille, and a sleek-faced negotiator were to come with -pleasant words from Richmond, La Marche, or Clermont, I would write my -answer on his forehead, and hang him on the first tree I found. When -men have gone as far as we have, to my mind there is no going back. -However, I yield to better judgment. Send some one, if you can find -him." - -Clermont and La Marche consulted together for a moment or two in a low -tone, and, to say sooth, they seemed sorely puzzled. But at length La -Marche looked up, saying, with some hesitation, "Perhaps Monsieur De -Brecy would undertake the task?" - -"Good Lord!" exclaimed the constable, slightly raising his hands and -eyes. - -"I will go willingly," replied De Brecy; "but it can only be, my -lords, to open the negotiation for you. Carry it on I can not, as I am -not of your faction. I shall require a letter under the hand of one or -more of you assuring his majesty of the loyalty of your intentions, -and begging him to appoint persons to confer with yourselves or your -deputies in regard to certain grievances of which you complain. In -this I think I shall succeed; but I will bear you back his majesty's -answer, and after that can take no further share in the affair." - -"What, then," exclaimed the constable, in a tone of affected surprise, -"you do not propose to rise upon our tombs to higher honor and -preferment?" - -"Not in the least," replied De Brecy. "I am here, even at this present -moment, merely as the envoy of Monsieur De Blondel, who sent me to -you, as this authority will show." - -"Pooh, pooh!" said Richmond, in a contemptuous tone. "De Blondel has -no wits either for the conception or the execution of such projects. -But one thing I must exact, Monsieur De Brecy: if we send you to the -king, you must hold no consultations in the castle before you go." - -De Brecy meditated for a moment, and then replied, "See Monsieur De -Blondel I must, my lord; for I came from him to you, and must render -him an account of what I have done. That account, however, may be very -short. I can have him called to the barriers, and any one of you may -hear what passes. I must, however, have horses and some of my train." - -"Be it so," said the constable. "I will go with you. You, Clermont, -are a scribe, so write the letter to the king. It will be ready when -we come back. Doubtless you will make it dutiful enough, and you need -not say, unless you wish it, that Richmond is the only obstacle." - -With this sneer he rose, put his bonnet on his head, and accompanied -De Brecy out of the room. As they went he said little, and at the -barrier, both while Jean Charost waited for Blondel's coming and -during their short conference, stood silent, with his arms crossed -upon his breast. The governor of the castle, indeed, noticed the -constable first, saying, "Give you good-night, my lord;" but Richmond -only bent his head gravely in reply, and spoke but once during the -whole interview, saying, when Jean Charost had given directions -regarding his horses and men, "Send them down to Jacques C[oe]ur's -house, De Blondel, and that as quick as may be, for fear La Marche -should have time to change his mind, and Clermont to fill his letter -so full of tropes that no one can understand it." - - - - -CHAPTER XLVI. - - -The town and the castle were quiet; the hateful sound of the rattling -cannon was heard no more; _pierrier_, _veuglaire_,[4] and culverin -were still, and the drum and the trumpet sounded not. When Agnes -looked out of the high window of the great round tower, after a sleep -which had remained unbroken by the clang of war longer than usual, she -could almost have supposed that every thing was peaceful around. The -morning sun shone brightly, the morning air was sweet and fresh, few -soldiers appeared upon the walls of the castle, there was no strife -seen going on in the streets, and it was only the sight of a barricade -immediately below the town gate of the citadel, and a breast-work of -earth some way further down, with half a dozen soldiers loitering -about each, that kept up the memory of a struggle. - -Although she knew not the cause, Agnes was well pleased; for the very -quiet stillness was a relief, restoring to the mind calmness and hope. -But Agnes's hopes had now taken one particular direction, and her -first thought was, "As there is no active struggle going on, dear Jean -will be with us soon this morning." - -But Jean Charost came not. An hour passed--an hour beyond the usual -time of his coming--and both his mother and Agnes began to feel alarm. -At length they sent down to inquire; but the answer brought up was, he -had gone out on the preceding night, and had not yet returned. - -Had the wars and contentions which had raged through the rest of -France prevailed in the neighborhood of Bourges--had Madame da Brecy -and Agnes been accustomed to the scenes of strife and confusion which -reigned in the rest of the country--had they been drilled, as it were, -and disciplined to hourly uncertainty, they might have felt little or -no alarm. But Berri had been nearly free from the evils that scourged -the rest of France, and a wandering troop of Royalist cavalry, or the -sudden inroad of a small band of English or Burgundians, causing them -to raise the draw-bridge and drop the portcullis, was all they knew of -the dangers of the times. Even during the short period they had spent -in the citadel of Bourges, however, Jean Charost had always found -means to spend a short part of each day with them; and although his -not coming at the usual hour might not have caused much apprehension, -the reply that he had gone forth from the castle, and not returned, -agitated them both. - -The alarm of Agnes, however, was much more than that of Madame De -Brecy. The aged feel this kind of apprehension, from many causes, much -less than the young. Cares and griefs harden the spirit to endure. -Each sorrow has its stiffening influence. Besides, as we approach the -extreme term of life, we are led to value it less highly--to estimate -it properly. When we contemplate it from the flowery beginning of our -days, oh, what a rich treasury of golden hours it seems! and we think -every one like us has the same dower. But as we look back at it when -our portion is nearly spent, we see how little really serviceable to -happiness it has procured, and we judge of others as ourselves. A -friend dies; and, though we may grieve, we think that we may soon meet -again. A friend is in danger, and we feel the less alarm, from a -knowledge that in losing life he loses little--that a few years more -or less are hardly dust in the balance, and that if he be taken away, -it is but that he goes from an inn somewhat near us to his home -further off. - -Agnes was very anxious. Her's was a quick imagination, active either -in the service of joy or sorrow; and she fancied all that might have -occurred, and much that was not likely. At one time she was inclined -to believe that the commander of the castle was deceiving Madame De -Brecy and herself, anxious to save them pain--that Jean Charost had -been killed, and that De Blondel would not tell them. She little knew -how lightly a hardened soldier could deal with such a matter. Then, -reasoning against her fears, she thought that De Brecy must have gone -forth upon a sally, and been made prisoner, and memory brought back -all the sorrows that had followed Azincourt. But worst of all was the -uncertainty, the toilsome laboring of thought after some definite -conclusion--the ever-changing battle between hope and fear, in which -fear was generally triumphant. She sat at the high window, gazing over -the country round, and watching the different roads within sight. Now -she saw a group coming along toward the gates; but after eager -scanning, it proved nothing but some peasants bringing in provisions -for the soldiery. Then an indistinct mass was seen at a distance; but -long ere it reached Bourges, it turned away in a different direction. -Each moment increased her anxiety and alarm. One hour--two, went by. -Again she saw some one coming, and again was disappointed, and the -long-repressed tears rose in her eyes, the sobs with which she could -struggle no longer burst from her lips. - -"Agnes, Agnes my child, come hither," cried Madame De Brecy; and -rising from her seat, Agnes cast herself upon her knees beside Jean -Charost's mother, and hid her streaming eyes upon her lap. - -"What is it, my dear Agnes?" asked Madame De Brecy, much moved. "Tell -me, my child; what agitates you thus? Tell me your feelings--all your -feelings, my Agnes. Surely I have been to you ever as a mother: -conceal nothing from me." - -"Why does he not come?" asked Agnes, in a voice hardly audible. "Oh, -dear mother, I fear he is ill--he is hurt--perhaps he is--" - -"Nay, nay," replied Madame De Brecy, "you have no cause for such -agitation, Agnes. A soldier can not command his own time, nor can he, -amid many important tasks, always find the opportunity of letting -those he loves best know his movements, even to relieve their anxiety. -A soldier's wife, my child," she added, putting her arm gently round -the kneeling girl, "must learn to bear such things with patience and -hope--nay, more, must learn to conceal even the anxiety she must feel, -in order to cast no damp upon her husband's spirits, to shackle none -of his energies, and to add nothing to his sorrow of parting even with -herself. Would you like to be a soldier's wife, my Agnes?" - -"I know not what I should like," answered Agnes, without raising her -head; but then she added quickly, as if her heart reproached her for -some little insincerity, "Yes, yes, I should; but then I should like -him to be a soldier no longer." - -A faint smile came upon Madame De Brecy's lip, and she was devising -another question to bring forth some further confession, when through -the open window came the sound of a trumpet, and Agnes, starting up, -darted back to her place of watching. - -Oh, how eagerly she dashed away the tears that dimmed her eyes; and -the next instant she exclaimed, with a radiant, rosy look of joy, -which rendered all further confession needless, "It is he--it is he! -There are a great number with him--some twenty or thirty; but I can -see him quite plainly. It is he!" - -Hardly five minutes elapsed, and Agnes had barely time to clear her -face of the traces of emotion it displayed, when Jean Charost's step -sounded on the stairs, and the next moment he was in the room. - -Very strange, Agnes did not fly to meet him. Agnes uttered no word of -gratulation. But she stood and trembled; for there are sometimes -things as full of awe discovered, within the heart, as any which can -strike our outward senses, and a vail had been withdrawn which exposed -to her sight things which, when first seen, were fearful as well as -dazzling. - -"Joy, dear mother--joy, dearest Agnes," said De Brecy, holding out a -hand to each. "Your prison hours are over. A truce is proclaimed, -negotiations for reconciliation going on, and you have nothing to do -but mount and ride away with me. Quick with your preparations, dearest -mother--quick, my sweet Agnes!" - -"Do not hurry her, my son," said Madame De Brecy, kindly. "She has -been very much terrified by your long absence, and has hardly yet -recovered. She shall go in the litter with me, and I will tell Suzette -to get all ready for her." - -"Terrified for me, dearest Agnes!" said Jean Charost, as his mother -left the room; and he took her hand in his, and gazed into her face. -"Did they not give you the message I sent last night?" - -"No," answered Agnes, in a low tone. "They only told us this morning, -when we sent to inquire, that you had gone forth, and had not -returned. How could they be so cruel. One word from you would have -saved us hours of pain." - -"You are trembling now," said Jean Charost, still holding her hand. -"What would you do, dear Agnes, if you were a soldier's wife?" - -"Your mother asked me the same," answered Agnes, with a faint smile, -"and I told her I did not know. I can but make you the same answer, -Jean. I suppose all a woman can do is to love and tremble." - -"And could you love a soldier?" asked De Brecy, in a very earnest -tone. - -"Oh that I could." murmured Agnes, trembling more than ever. - -Jean Charost led her toward a seat, and as she trembled still, and he -feared she would fall, he put his arm around her waist, merely to -support her. It had been there a thousand times before, in years long -past, when she had stood by his side or sat upon his knee; but the -touch was different now to both of them. It made his heart thrill and -beat; it made hers nearly stop altogether. - -She was so pale, he thought she would faint; and instinct prompted -that the safest way was that of the proverb--to speak true words in -jest. So, in a gay tone, he said, as he seated himself beside her, -still holding his arm round her waist, "Well, I'll tell you, dearest -Agnes, how it shall be. When you have refused some half a dozen other -soldiers, you shall marry Jean Charost; and I will give you leave to -love as much as you like, and to tremble as little as possible." - -Agnes suddenly raised her eyes to his face with a look of earnest -inquiry, and then her cheek became covered with crimson, and she -leaned her head upon his bosom. - -She said nothing, however, and he asked, in a low and gentle tone, -"Shall it be so, dearest Agnes?" - -"No," she answered, wiping away some tears. "I do not wish to refuse -any one else." - -"Ah, then I must make haste," said Jean Charost, "for fear you should -accept any one else. Will you be my wife, my own sweetest love?" - -Again she answered not; but her small, soft fingers pressed gently on -his hand. - -"Nay, but I must have a word," said Jean Charost, drawing her closer -to him; "but one word, dear girl. That little hand can not speak so -clearly as those dear lips." - -"Oh, do not tease me," said Agnes, raising her head for a moment, and -taking a glance at his face. "I hardly know whether you are bantering -me or not." - -"Bantering you!" said Jean Charost, in a graver tone. "No, no, my -love. I am not one to banter with your happiness or my own; and mine, -at least, is staked upon this issue. For all that the world contains -of joyful or of fortunate, I would not peril yours, Agnes. For this, -when Monsieur De Brives sought your hand, I hid my love for you in my -own heart, lest ancient regard and youthful fondness for an old dear -friend, should bias your judgment toward one unsuited to you. For -this, I would fain have let you see a little more of life before I -bound you by any tie to one much older than yourself. But I can -refrain no longer, Agnes; and, having spoken, I must know my fate. -Will you be mine, sweet love?" - -"Yes, yes--yes!" said Agnes, throwing her arm round his neck. "I am -yours. I ever have been yours. I ever will be yours. You can not make -me otherwise, do as you will." - -"I will never try," replied Jean Charost, kissing her. "Dear mother," -he continued, as Madame De Brecy re-entered the room, "here is now -your daughter, indeed. I know you can not love her more than you do; -but you will love her now for my sake, as well as her own." - -Madame De Brecy held wide her arms, and Agnes flew to her bosom. "My -child, my dear child," said the old lady. "But calm yourself, Agnes; -here is Martin Grille, come to say the litter is ready. Let us go." - -"Ah, I thought how it would be," said Martin Grille to himself. "I -never saw dear friendships between a man under forty and a girl under -sixty end otherwise. My lord, the litter is ready, and all the -men-at-arms you named. The rest, however, seem somewhat surly at being -left behind; for I think they have had enough of being besieged. I am -sure I have. I shall not get that big gun out of my head for the next -month." - -"Tell them there is a truce for three days," said Jean Charost; "and -if, at the end of that time, war is not at an end, I will return and -join them. We must not strip the castle of its defenders." - -In a few minutes Jean Charost and his little cavalcade were beyond the -walls of Bourges; but Madame De Brecy remarked that they did not take -the way toward their own well-loved home, but, passing the River -Langis, directed their course toward Pressavoix. "Where are you taking -us, Jean?" she said to her son, who was riding beside the litter. - -"To the castle of Felard, my dear mother," replied Jean Charost. "I -promised the queen that I would bring you and Agnes thither for a day. -I am in great favor at court now," he added, gayly, "for having had -some share in bringing about this negotiation. The king, indeed, seems -somewhat moody and irritable, but not with me; and he insists that I -shall take part in the conferences to be held this night at -Pressavoix. Nay, dearest mother; no objections on the score of dress -and equipment; for, let me tell you, the court is in traveling guise -as well as we are, and you will find more soiled and dusty apparel -there than we bring into it." - -Madame De Brecy was in some trepidation; for it was long, long since -she had moved in courts, and the retired and quiet life which she had -passed for years unfitted her for such scenes. She made no opposition, -however; and, in somewhat less than half an hour, the little cavalcade -began to fall in with the outposts of the king's army. There was no -difficulty in passing them, however; for, from the moment the truce -was proclaimed, the soldiers on both posts concluded that some -agreement would be arrived at between the different factions, and -began to mingle together with as much gayety and good-will as if they -had never drawn the sword against each other. Groups were seen -galloping about the fields in different directions, standing and -talking together upon the road, riding rapidly about to and fro -between Pressavoix and Bourges, and the scene presented all the gayety -and brilliancy of war, without any of its terrors. - -Shortly after passing the second line of posts upon the high-road, -Jean Charost led the way down a narrow lane, which seemed to plunge -into a deep, heavy wood. All was now quiet and solitary, and nothing -but the waving branches of great old trees was seen around for nearly -half a mile. The undulations of the ground were so slight that no -eminence gave a view over the prospect, and all that varied their -course as they advanced were the strongly-contrasted lines of light -and shade that crossed the road from time to time. At length, however, -the lane turned sharply, an open space was presented to view, and the -ancient château of Felard, which has long since given place to the -present modern structure, rose upon the sight in the midst. It had -towers and turrets, walls, ditch, and draw-bridge, like most large -country houses at that time; but it was by no means defensible against -any regular force, and was only chosen for the residence of the court -on account of the accommodation it afforded. Charles VII. had not yet -learned to dread the approach of his subjects to his person, to see -poison in his food, and an enemy in every stranger, and the gates were -wide open, without guards, and nothing but a few pages in attendance, -lingering about. - -Descending in the outer court, Jean Charost assisted his mother and -Agnes to alight, and then led them on to the principal entrance of the -building, where they were shown into a vacant chamber, to wait the -pleasure of the queen. - -"Have the courtesy," said Jean Charost to the page, "to let Messire -Jacques C[oe]ur know that I am here, after you have informed the -queen;" and, turning to his mother, whose face brightened at the name -of her old friend, he added, "I only saw him for an instant last -night; but his presence was most serviceable in obtaining for me -speedy audience." - -At the end of about five minutes, the door opened, and a lady entered -alone, the richness of whose apparel, and perhaps still more, the -brilliance of her beauty, made Madame De Brecy suppose that she beheld -the queen. Jean Charost, however, addressed her as Mademoiselle De St. -Geran, and introduced his mother and Agnes to her, not altogether -without some embarrassment in his manner. - -Agnes Sorel did not seem to remark it, however, spoke frankly and -kindly to Madame De Brecy, and then, turning to Agnes, gazed upon her -with a look of deep interest. "So this is your Agnes," she said, -turning to Jean Charost. "Oh, De Brecy, do not bring her into courts. -They are not places for such a flower as this. Is not that a hard -speech, my dear young lady? Doubtless, your young imagination has -painted courts as very brilliant places; but I myself know, from sad -experience, that they are fields where little grows but sorrows, -disappointments, and regrets." - -"I have no inclination, indeed, madam, ever to mingle with them," -replied Agnes. - -But Agnes Sorel was by this time in a deep fit of meditation, and -seemed not to hear the fair girl's reply. After a minute's silence, -however, she turned quickly to Jean Charost, and said, "Why did you -name her Agnes?" - -"Youthful regard for yourself, I believe, was the chief motive," he -answered, frankly. "I had seen you, dear lady, in many a trying -situation. You had generously, nobly befriended me, even at that time, -and I wished this dear girl to be like you." - -Agnes shook her head slowly and sorrowfully, with an air which seemed -to speak as plainly as words, "You wish so no longer." Suddenly, -however, she roused herself, and said, with a sweet smile, "I had -almost forgotten my duty. Her majesty has commanded me to bring you to -her apartments. If you will follow me, Madame De Brecy, I will show -you the way, and afterward will show you your lodging." - - - - -CHAPTER XLVII. - - -Just behind the old stone cross on the green of the little village of -St. Privé, about half a mile south of Pressavoix, a large pavilion was -erected, not far from the bank of the river. Between the two poles -which supported it was spread a great table covered with writing -materials, with two or three candlesticks placed in no very seemly -order. Two men, who appeared to be clerks, were seated at the table -mending pens, and venting dry jokes at one another; and round about -the pavilion, at the distance of about fifty yards on either side, -patrolled a number of archers of the King's Guard, to keep prying eyes -and curious ears afar. For about a quarter of an hour, the tent -remained vacant of all but the clerks; but at the end of that time a -group of several gentlemen entered it, and took their place on the -northern side of the table, not sitting down, but standing together -conversing earnestly, though in low tones. Shortly after, Jean Charost -and Monsieur De Blondel appeared, and, joining the others, took part -in their conversation. Then came Richmond, La Marche, and Clermont, -with several other gentlemen of their faction; but these remained to -the south of the table, although an occasional word or two passed -between them and those on the other side. - -"Does his majesty come in person?" said Richmond at length, in his -deep-toned voice. - -"On my life, I know not," replied Blondel; "but, of course, I should -suppose not, my lord constable." - -"Then what do we wait for?" asked Richmond, again. - -"Monsieur De la Trimouille is, I believe, commissioned by the king to -treat--" said Jean Charost; "at least, I heard so, my lord, while I -was at the castle of Felard." - -"By the Lord, he must come soon, then," said Richmond, with a -discontented air, "or no treating will there be at all; for I am not -going to lackey a Trimouille, and wait upon his lordship's pleasure." - -A few minutes more passed in gloomy silence, and then the sound of -horses coming fast was heard upon the road, through the canvas walls -of the tent. - -The next instant, La Trimouille himself, a tall, powerful, handsome -man, entered the pavilion, leaning on the arm of Juvenel de Royans, -his countryman and connection, and followed by Dunois and several -others. - -"I beg your pardon, gentlemen, for keeping you waiting," he said, with -the blandest possible smile; "but I had to hear his majesty's -pleasure, in order that there might be no doubt or difficulty upon our -part. Let us be seated, and discuss this matter." - -Each one took his seat at the table without much order, the party of -the king on one side--for kings were at heads of parties in those, -days--and the party of the three counts on the other. A pause ensued, -which seemed to fret the spirit of Richmond; for at length he spoke, -after giving a snort like a wild horse, exclaiming, "Some one -speak--in Heaven's name! What are we here for? Not to sit silent, I -suppose. Speak, Trimouille!" - -"Right willingly, my lord constable," replied Trimouille. "You are -aware you are in arms against the king your sovereign." - -"False to begin with," cried Richmond. "I am in arms against favorites -and court flatterers--in arms to restore to the king the right use of -his own authority, for the good of the nation and the safety of the -land." - -"In arms against me, you would say," replied Trimouille, with a dark -spot on his brow which belied the smile upon his lips. "But let us -hear what you complain of. I know of nothing done by me which can -justify such acts as yours. However, if you have cause, state it -before these gentlemen here present, who are commissioned by his -majesty, as well as myself, to inquire into this matter, and will -report to him every word you say without gloss or comment, such as you -accuse me of making. What are your griefs, my lords?" - -"Heavy enough," said Richmond, sternly. "Your ingratitude, Trimouille, -I could pass over; but--" - -"My ingratitude!" exclaimed the king's minister. "I know not that you -have given me cause to be grateful or ungrateful." - -"Did I not place you where you are?" demanded Richmond. "Did I not -remove better men than yourself to place you there? Did I not force -Louvet from the council to make room for you, and punish the audacity -of Beaulieu--" - -"And drown Giac," said the Count of Clermont, with a sarcastic smile; -and all around the table laughed, except Trimouille himself, who had -married the dangerous widow of the deceased nobleman. He waved his -hand, however, saying, "This is all trifling. I hold the place I -occupy by the king's favor and approval, and by the act of no other -man. But you are in arms, you say, for the public service. What has -been done to give you a color for this pretense?" - -"I will tell you speedily," replied Richmond, bitterly. "You have -frustrated all my plans for the service of the state. During this last -campaign in Brittany, you kept me idle before Pontorson, for want of -men and money, or it would have fallen a week before it did. The same -was the case before St. James, and now, for the last four months, not -a livre have I been able to wring from your hands, either for my own -pay or to keep my men on foot." - -"You have been able to keep them on foot to war against your monarch," -said Trimouille, bitterly; "but I will meet the charge with frankness -and truth. I have not sent you money when you demanded it, for the -same reason that I did not send any to my lord the Count of La Marche -here, to whom I eagerly wished to send it--simply because I had it not -to send." - -"A mere pretense," exclaimed Richmond, striking the table with his -fist, and rising as he spoke. "We have found in the papers of Jacques -C[oe]ur, which we seized in Bourges, proof positive that a large sum -was sent to Chinon at the very time you refused my demand." - -"Which was all forestalled before it came," said La Trimouille. But -his voice was drowned by the angry tones of the constable, who -exclaimed, "If we are again to be put off with such pitiful excuses as -that, negotiations can produce no good;" and he turned to leave the -tent. - -The counts of La Marche and Clermont rose also; but Jean Charost -exclaimed, "Stay, I beseech you, my lords. Consider what you are -doing--casting away the safety of France, giving her up a prey to the -enemy, not only sacrificing your loyalty to your king, but your duty -to your country. If there be one particle of patriotism, or of -generosity, or of honor in you, stay and listen to what Monsieur La -Trimouille has to propose." - -The word "propose" was happily chosen, holding out vague ideas of -advantages to be obtained which affected both Clermont and La Marche. - -"What shall we do, Richmond?" said the latter, in a hesitating tone. - -"Stay, if you will," said the constable, gruffly. "You can act for me, -if you choose to remain. I shall go; for I only lose my temper." - -Thus saying, he quitted the tent. La Marche and Clermont hesitated for -a moment, and then returned to their seats; the latter observing, with -a quiet sneer, that the constable lately gave them more fire than -light. - -"Well, gentlemen," said Trimouille, in his most placable tones, "now -this hot spirit is gone, we are likely, meseems, to come to some -result. Pray let me hear your demands." - -The Count La Marche turned a somewhat puzzled look toward the Count of -Clermont, and the latter laughed gayly. - -"Speak, I beseech you," said La Trimouille. "What are your demands?" - -"Why, the first of them we decided upon," replied the Count of -Clermont, "was one so unpleasant to utter, that it sticks in the -throat of La Marche here--simply your removal from the council of the -king, Monsieur La Trimouille." - -"I will not stand in the way," replied the minister, with the utmost -frankness of manner. "No personal interest of mine shall prevent an -accommodation. But upon this point the king alone can, of course, -decide. It shall be referred to him, exactly as you state it. Let us -pass on to other things. What more do you demand?" - -"Nay, we would rather hear what you have to propose," said the Count -of Clermont, who began to doubt how the negotiations would turn. - -"I will willingly take the lead," said Trimouille; "for his majesty's -intentions are kind and generous. First, however, it is necessary to -state how matters stand, in order to show that it is by no compulsion -the king acts, but merely from his gracious disposition. Here are -three noblemen, two of them closely allied to the blood royal, take -arms against their sovereign at a time when disunion is likely to be -fatal to the state. The two I have mentioned, his majesty believes to -have been misled by the third, an imperious, violent man, -overestimating both his services and his abilities--" - -"Nay, nay," cried the Count La Marche. - -"Hear me out," said La Trimouille; "a man who pretends to dictate to -the king who shall be his ministers, and publicly boasts of placing -and displacing them at his pleasure. These three noblemen actually -seize upon a royal city, and besiege the royal garrison in the -citadel. The king, judging it necessary to check such proceedings at -once, marches against them as rebels--and in great force. To speak -plainly, my lords, you have five thousand men in and about Bourges; he -has ten thousand men between you and Paris, five thousand more arrived -an hour ago at La Vallée, and a large force under La Hire is marching -up from Chateauroux." - -He paused, and the countenances of the constable's party fell -immensely. However, the Count of Clermont replied, with his usual -sarcastic smile, "A perilous situation as you represent it, my good -lord; but methinks I have heard an old fable which shows that men and -lions may paint pictures differently." - -"You will find my picture the true one, Clermont," said La Trimouille, -coolly. "I have I taken care not to exaggerate it in the least, and -both the generosity with which the king treats you, and the firmness -with which his majesty will adhere to his determinations, will prove -to you that he is convinced of these facts likewise. He is desirous, -however, that Frenchmen should never be seen shedding Frenchmen's -blood, and therefore he proposes, in mitigation of all griefs, real or -supposed, and also as a mark of his love and regard for his good -cousin, the Count of La Marche, to bestow upon him the fief of -Besançon. To you, Monsieur De Clermont, he offers to give the small -town of Montbrison, or some other at your choice, of equal value. To -the other noblemen and gentlemen I see around you, and whose names -were furnished to me this morning, each a benefice, the list of which -I have here; and all this upon the sole condition that they return to -their loyalty, and serve the crown against the common enemy, with -zeal, fidelity, and obedience." - -"And the Count of Richmond," said La Marche. I - -"What for the constable?" asked the Count of Clermont. - -A heavy frown came upon La Trimouille's brow. He had remarked keenly -the effect produced upon the constable's companions by the offers -made, and saw that the faction was in reality broken up; and he -replied, in a slow, stern tone, "Permission for him to retire -unmolested to Parthenay, and live in peace and privacy." - -A dead silence pervaded all the tent, which was first broken by Jean -Charost, who saw both peril and injustice in the partiality just -shown, and attributed it rightly to La Trimouille's personal enmity -toward his former friend. - -"Nay, my good lord," he exclaimed. "Surely his majesty will be moved -to some less strict dealing with the lord constable." - -"What, you sir!" cried La Trimouille, in a sharp and angry tone. - -"Yes, my good lord," replied De Brecy. "I had his majesty's own -commands to be present here, and, as he said, to moderate between -contending claims, and I shall feel it my duty to urge him strongly to -reconsider the question in regard to the Count of Richmond, whom I do -not mean to defend for the part he has taken with these two noble -counts; but who has formerly served the crown well, and is only a -sharer in the same faults as themselves." - -"You had better be silent, Monsieur De Brecy," said La Trimouille, -with a lowering brow. - -"My lord, I was not sent here to be silent," said De Brecy, "and, in -speaking, I only obey the king's commands." - -"Then go to the king, and hear what he says now," said La Trimouille, -putting on a more placable air. "I have seen him since yourself, and -received his last directions. Go to him, I say; I am quite willing." - -De Brecy fell into the trap. "I will," he said, rising. "If you will -proceed with all other points, I will be back before you can -conclude." - -La Trimouille saw him depart with a smile; but no sooner heard his -horse's feet, than, sure of his advantage, he hurried on all the -proceedings of the conference, threw in an inducement here, promised a -greater advantage there, employed all the means he had kept in reserve -of working upon the selfishness of the constable's late confederates, -and in less than twenty minutes had triumphed completely over faith, -and friendship, and generosity to Richmond. He made the descent easy, -however, by leaving all questions concerning the constable to be -settled afterward, and succeeded in obtaining a written promise from -La Marche and Clermont to return to their duty, and submit to the -king's will, without any condition whatever in favor of Richmond. - -His leave-taking was hasty as soon as this was accomplished; and, -mounting his horse with all speed, he galloped back to Felard as fast -as he could go. There, approaching the building by the back, he -hurried up to the king's apartments, and inquired, eagerly, if -Monsieur De Brecy had obtained admission. - -"No, my lord," replied the attendant. "His majesty was fatigued, and -lay down to rest for an hour. We, therefore, refused Monsieur De Brecy -admission." - -"You must not refuse me," said La Trimouille. - -The man hesitated; but the minister passed him boldly, and knocked at -a door on the opposite side of the ante-room. A moment after, he -disappeared within, and then the murmur of conversation was heard, -apparently eager, but not loud. At the end of some five minutes, La -Trimouille looked out, saying to the attendants, "If Monsieur De Brecy -returns to seek an audience, tell him his majesty will see him at the -general reception this evening, for which he is invited;" and then -drawing back, he closed the door. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVIII. - - -Many are the perils of greatness, but among them all, there are few -more disastrous than that of being subject continually to influences -the most corrupt, which poison the stream of human action almost at -the fountain-head. False representations, sneers, innuendoes, -mis-statements, are ever fluttering about the heads of princes, guard -themselves how they will against them; and I have seen the base, the -treacherous, the coward, and the fool raised to office, honor, and -emolument; the good, the wise, the just, and the true rejected, -neglected, and despised by men, not feeble-minded, not corrupt -themselves, but strong in intellect, clear of sight, and with the -highest and the noblest purposes. Princes and powerful men can but, as -others do, judge and decide from what they see and hear, and the very -atmosphere around them is misty with falsehood, their very closet is -an echo which repeats little else but lies. - -There was a great hall in the château of Felard, and in it, about nine -o'clock, were assembled many of the prime nobility of France. Gay -habits were there, and handsome forms; and, being so numerous, the -party of course comprised some who were good and wise. It consisted -principally of men, indeed; but there were ladies likewise -present--the queen herself, Agnes Sorel, several high dames of Berri, -and ladies attending upon the court. The young king, graceful and -handsome, stood at the upper end of the hall, by the side of his wife; -and various guests from time to time advanced, spoke a few words to -him, and passed on. All seemed gay and smiling. The news had spread -around that the principal conditions of a treaty of accommodation with -the late rebels had been signed, and joy and satisfaction at a result -so greatly to be desired, yet which had been so little expected, -spread a cheerfulness like sunshine over all. Little did he who had -first suggested the steps which had led to such a conclusion, and had -principally contributed to their adoption, dream at that moment of the -evil that awaited himself. - -Jean Charost, after several persons of higher station than himself had -passed the king's presence, advanced with a grave air from the end of -the circle near which he stood. His countenance was calm and well -assured, though thoughtful, and his eyes were raised direct to the -monarch. He could see a dark cloud suddenly come upon Charles's face, -and La Trimouille, who was at some little distance from the king, -immediately drew nearer to him. The king bowed his head somewhat -ungraciously in answer to the young nobleman's salutation, and then, -seeing him pause without passing on, said, harshly, "What is it, -Monsieur de Brecy? Speak, if you have any thing to say." - -De Brecy instantly divined that the king had been prepossessed; but -that ancient spirit in him, which had led him, when a mere boy with -the Duke of Orleans, to speak his mind plainly, had not been beaten -out of him, even by all the hard blows of the world, and he replied, -with one glance at his mother and Agnes, who stood at a little -distance from the queen, but whom he could have well wished absent, "I -have something to say, sire, which I would not venture to say at -present, had you not yourself appointed me this as my hour of -audience." - -The king slowly nodded his head, as if directing him to proceed; and -Jean Charost continued, "To-night, by your commands, I took part in a -conference at Pressavoix, and gladly found that your majesty was -disposed to be most gracious to a number of your vassals and subjects -who had ventured to take arms upon very shallow pretexts against your -authority. Although no motive was necessary to explain your clemency, -the motive which Monsieur La Trimouille did express, was to reunite -all Frenchmen in the service of the country. One solitary exception -was made in this act of grace and goodness, and that exception was -against a nobleman who, whatever may have been his faults lately, has, -in times past, served the crown with zeal, skill, and courage." - -The frown was darkening more and more heavily on Charles's brow every -moment; but he did not speak, and Jean Charost went on boldly, "I have -ventured to believe, sire, that you might be led to mitigate the -severity of your just anger against the constable, and to consider -former services as well as present faults, to remember how useful he -has been, and may be still to France, and might be even induced to -extend to him the same grace and favor which you hold out to his -comrades in offense." - -"Did you hear my will expressed by Monsieur La Trimouille?" demanded -the king, sternly, and in a loud tone. - -"I heard what he was pleased to say was your will, sire," replied De -Brecy; "but I presumed to differ with Monsieur La Trimouille, and to -believe that by proper representations to your majesty, which I -imagined had not been made, you might be brought to reconsider your -decision, and be gracious in all, as well as in part." - -"And you expressed that difference at the council-table?" said -Charles. - -"I did, sire," replied De Brecy, "judging it necessary to the safety -of France to do so." - -"For which, sir," said the king aloud, and using the imperious plural -representing the many powers united in a king; "for which, sir, we -banish you from our court and presence, and make you share the -punishment of the fault you have defended. You did your best to -frustrate our purposes intrusted to the execution of our minister. You -nearly rendered abortive his efforts to bring about a pacification, -necessary to the welfare of the country; and it is probable that, had -you remained on the spot, that pacification would not have been -accomplished. We would have you know, and all know, that we will be -obeyed. We have punished his rebellion in the Count of Richmond more -leniently, perhaps, than his offense required, taking into full -consideration his former services, but weighing well the fact that he -was the head and leader, the chief and instigator of the conspiracy, -in which the rest were but his deluded followers. Unwarned by his -example, you thought fit to oppose our will at our very council-table, -and we therefore inflict on you the same punishment as on him. The -only grace we can grant you is to leave you the choice of your -retreat, within ten miles of which, wherever it may be, we require you -to limit your movements. Say whither you will go." - -The first part of the king's speech had surprised and confounded De -Brecy; but he gradually recovered himself as the monarch went on. He -had long seen that Trimouille had sought to establish an almost -despotic authority over the court of France, and he easily divined -that Charles was not speaking his own sentiments, but those of his -minister. This was some consolation, and he had completely recovered -himself before the king ended. It was more by chance, however, than -any thing else that, thus suddenly called upon, he fixed on a place of -retreat. "By your majesty's permission," he replied, "I will retire to -Briare. I have, however, some weighty business to conclude, having -been too much engaged in your majesty's service to visit De Brecy for -several years. May I have permission to remain yet a few days in this -part of the country?" - -"We give you three days," said the king, coldly inclining his head. - -"It will need every exertion to accomplish what I have to do in the -time," answered Jean Charost, with much mortification in his tone. "I -will, therefore, beg leave to retire to De Brecy this very night. -Come, my dear mother--come, Agnes," he continued, taking a step back. - -"Hold!" cried the king. "Madame De Brecy, of course we do not oppose -your departure with your son; but as for this young lady, we have had -reason to believe very lately, that the right to her guardianship -exists in us, rather than in Monsieur De Brecy. She must remain at our -court, and under the protection of the queen, till such time, at -least, as the matter is inquired into." - -A red, angry glow spread over De Brecy's face; and Agnes herself was -starting forward, as if to cling to him in that moment of anguish and -indignation; but Agnes Sorel laid her hand upon her arm and held her -back, whispering eagerly, "Do not oppose the king now. If you refrain, -all may yet be well. Resist you can not, and opposition will be -destruction." - -"He has brought her up from her infancy, my lord the king," said -Madame De Brecy, in an imploring tone. "I know of no one who could -have so good a right to her guardianship as himself." - -"Dare he venture to say that he has any right to her guardianship at -all?" asked the king; "that that guardianship is his by blood, or that -he has received it from one competent to give it?" - -"Perhaps not, sire," replied De Brecy, boldly. "But I know of no one -who has a better right than myself." - -His eyes were flashing, his face heated, his whole frame trembling -with emotion; and, with his free and possibly rash habit of expressing -his thoughts, it is impossible to tell what he might have said; but -Dunois and Juvenel de Royans took him by the arms, and forcibly drew -him away from the king's presence toward a door at the end of the line -of ladies and gentlemen, on the king's right hand. - -As this painful and exciting scene had proceeded, the open space -before the monarch had been gradually crowded, the ring around had -become narrower and narrower, and De Brecy was soon lost to the -monarch's eyes in the number of persons about him. Dunois paused for a -moment there, urging something to which Jean Charost gave no heed; but -nearly at the same instant a small hand was laid upon his arm, and the -voice of Agnes Sorel said, in a low, earnest tone, "Leave her to me, -De Brecy; leave her to me. I know all you fear; but, by my Christian -faith, I will protect her, and guard her from all evil. Here, -here--give your mother your arm; and, for Heaven's sake, for your own -sake, for her sake, do not irritate the king." - -De Brecy heard no more; but, with the heaviest heart that had ever -rested in his bosom, suffered Dunois to lead him from the hall. - -Juvenel de Royans followed, and, when they leached the vestibule -beyond, he wrung De Brecy's hand hard, saying, "This is my fault--all -my foolish chattering. But, by the Lord, I will set it right before I -have done, or I will cut my cousin Trimouille's heart out of his -body;" and with those words he turned sharply and re-entered the hall. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIX. - - -For Jean Charost, a period of lethargy--I may almost call -it--succeeded the scene last described. A dull, idle, heavy dream--a -torpor of the spirit as well as of the body. It is not the man of many -emotions who has the deepest: it is he who has the power, either from -temperament or force of character, to resist them. His spirit has not -been worn by them; his heart has not been soiled by them; and when at -length they seize upon him, and conquer him, they have something to -grasp. - -It was thus with him. In early life he had never known love. The -circumstances in which he had been placed, the constant occupation, -the frequent moving from place to place, and the absence of any of -those little incidents which plant and nourish passion, had left his -life without the record of any thing more than a mere passing -inclination. But when love seized upon him, it took possession of him -entirely, filled him for a few days with hope and joy, and now plunged -him into that spiritless lethargy. The events which were passing -around him in France came upon him as a vision. Like the ancient -prophet, he saw things in a trance, but having his eyes open; and they -must be pictured to the reader in the same way that they appeared to -him. - -A large, fine city, on a beautiful river, is besieged by a numerous -army. Its fortifications are old and insufficient, the troops within -it scanty, the preparations small. The cannon thunder upon it, mines -explode beneath its walls, the enemy march to its assault; but they -are driven back, and Orleans remains untaken. There is a bridge, the -key, as it were, to the city. It is attacked, defended, attacked -again. An old castle seems its only protection. The castle is -attacked, and taken by the enemy; and a man of magnificent presence, -calm, and grave, and gentle, mounts the highest tower therein, to -direct his soldiery against the city. Suddenly, the stone ball of a -large cannon strikes the window at which he stands; and Salisbury is -carried away to die a few hours after of his wounds. - -The city still holds out; the attacks have diminished in fierceness; -but round about the devoted place the English lines are drawn on every -side, pressing it closer and closer, till famine begins to reign -within the walls. There is a battle in the open fields, some miles -from the besieged place. Wagons and tumbrils are in the midst, and -gallant men, with the lily banner over them, fight bravely; but fight -in vain. They fly--at length they fly. The bravest hearts in France -turn from the fatal field, and all is rout, and slaughter, and defeat. -Surely, surely Orleans must fall, and all the open country beyond the -Loire submit to the invader. - -Let us turn away our eyes from this scene to another. The king's -council has assembled at Chinon; the news of the defeat has reached -them. Hope, courage, constancy are lost. They advise their monarch to -abandon Orleans to its fate; to abandon Berri and Touraine, and make -his last struggle in the mountains of Auvergne. The counsels of -despair had been spoken, nor is it wonderful that a young man fond of -pleasure, ruled by favorites, weary of strife, contention, and cabal, -should listen to them with a longing for repose, and tranquillity, and -enjoyment. Oh, how often is it, in this working-day world of ours, -that the most active, the most energetic, the most enduring, thirsts, -with a burning thirst, such as the wanderer of the desert hardly -knows, for the cool refreshment of a little peace. He stands in his -own cabinet, not quite alone; for there is a beautiful figure kneeling -at his feet. She raises her eyes to his face with looks of love and -tenderness, yet full of energy and fire. "Never, never, my Charles!" -she says. "Never, my king and master! Oh, never let it be said that -France's king embraced the counsels of fear, rather than of courage; -fled without need--turned from his enemy before he was defeated! It is -God's will that gives the victory; but it is for you to struggle for -it. What if the courage of the people of Orleans faint? what if a -battle is lost? what if the English pass the Loire!" - -"All this is true, or will be true within a month, my Agnes," replied -the king, in a tone of deep despondency. "I can not prevent it. -Suppose it happened; what can I do then?" - -"Mount your horse. Set your lance in rest. Give your standard -to the wind. Call France around you. March against the -enemy--fight--fight--and, if need be, die! I will go with you--die -with you, if it must be so. There is nothing for me but you and France -on earth. God pardon us that it is so; but I have given, and you have -taken from me all else." - -Charles shook his head mournfully; and Agnes rose slowly from her -knees, and drew a step back. "Then pardon me, my lord," she said, "if -I retire from your royal court to that of his highness the Duke of -Bedford. It was predicted to me long ago, by a learned astrologer, -that I should belong to the greatest prince of my time. I fondly -fancied I had found him; but I must have been mistaken." And she -retired still further, as if to quit the room. - -"Stay, Agnes, stay!" cried Charles. "Stay, if you love me!" - -Agnes sprang back again, and cast her arms around his neck. "Love -you!" she cried; "God knows I love you but too well; and though our -love has humbled, debased, and dishonored me, if it is to last, it -must raise, and elevate, and animate you. For my sake, Charles, if not -for your own, cast the base thoughts which others have suggested far -away. Take the nobler part which your own heart would prompt; dare -all, encounter all, and save France, yourself, and Agnes; for be sure -I will never outlive the freedom of my country. There is many a noble -heart yet beating in our France. There is many a strong arm yet ready -to strike for her; and it needs but the appearance of the king in the -field, and proofs of strong determination upon his part, to quell the -factions which distract the land, and gather every noble spirit round -his king. Whatever your love may have done to injure me, oh let my -love for you lead you to safety, honor, and renown." - -"Well, be it so," cried Charles, infected by her enthusiasm. "I swear -by all I hold most sacred, I will not go back before the enemy. Let -him cross the Loire--let Orleans fall--let every traitor leave me--let -every faint heart counsel flight. I will meet him in the field, peril -all on one last blow, free France, or die!" - -Let us back to the besieged city again. Gaunt famine is walking in the -streets; eager-faced men, and hollow-eyed women are seen prowling -about, and vainly seeking food. Closer, closer draw the lines about -the place, the bridge is broken down, as a last resource; but the -enemy's cannon thunder still, and the hands are feeble that point -those upon the walls. Suddenly there is a cry that help is coming, -that food is on the way; food, and an army to force an entrance. There -is a feeble flash of joy and hope; but it soon goes out. Men ask, Who -is it leads the host? who brings the promised succor? A woman--a young -girl of seventeen years of age--some say a saint--and some a fool; and -many weep with bitter disappointment. - -Nevertheless, on the day named, the ramparts are crowded, people go up -to the towers and to the belfries. What do they see? A fleet of boats -coming up the river, an army marching up the bank, lances and banners, -pennons and bright arms are there enough. But still the hearts of the -inhabitants, though beating with interest and expectation, hardly give -place to hope. They have seen French armies as bright and gay fly -before those hardy islanders who are now marching out of their lines -to attack the escorting force. They have seen succor as near them -intercepted on the way. But right onward toward them moves the host of -France. Quicker, quicker--at the march, at the trot, at the gallop. -Band mingles with band, spear crosses spear; the flag of France -advances still; the boats sweep on and reach the city; and shouts of -joy ring through the air--shouts, but not shouts so loud, nor warm, -nor triumphant as those which greet that young girl as she rides -through the streets of the city she has succored. - -But she was not content to succor; she came to deliver; and forth she -goes again to plant her banner between the walls and the besieging -lines, and there she sleeps, lulled by the roar of the artillery. - -Again the Maid of Arc is in the field. Again the standard of France is -in her hand, and on she bears it from success to success. The enemy's -forts are taken, the lines swept, the castle of the bridge recaptured, -Orleans delivered, and her name united with it in everlasting memory. - -Joy, hope, confidence returned to France, and men's hearts were opened -to each other which had long been closed. - -Gergeau, Beaugency, and many another small town was taken, and across -a country delivered from his enemies, the King of France marched on to -take his crown at Rheims. - - - - -CHAPTER L. - - -Flitting like shadows in a mist, came many a great event in the -history of France about that time, hardly known or appreciated by any -except those who were the immediate actors in them; but amid them all, -with a heavy heart, and a dejected spirit, Jean Charost remained in -exile at Briare. Why he had chosen that small town for the place of -his retreat, he himself hardly knew; for although no human action is -probably without its motive, some motives are so quick and -lightning-like, that all traces of them are instantly lost even in the -cloud from which they issue. It might be that he had been thinking -deeply of the words of Juvenel de Royans, from the second night of the -siege of Bourges till the moment when his sentence of banishment from -the court was spoken, and that he had fully made up his mind to go -thither sooner or later to converse with the Abbot Lomelini. No other -inducement, indeed, could be imagined; for Briare was then, as now, a -very dull small place, with its single street, and hardly defensible -walls, and nothing to recommend it but the smiling banks of the Loire, -and the fine old abbey at the highest point of the whole town. Dull -enough it was, in truth, to Jean Charost, without one object of -interest, one source of occupation. Filial love, too, had deprived him -of the consolation of his mother's company. The journey from De Brecy -to Briare he thought was too long, the difficulties and dangers in the -way too numerous for her to encounter them without risk to her health -or to her life, and he had persuaded her to remain, and keep the -management of his estates in her own hands. Thus, with a few servants, -he remained at the principal inn of the place, poorly lodged, and -poorly fed, but heeding little the convenience or inconvenience of the -body in the dull, heavy anguish of the heart. His spirit fretted sore -within him; but yet he did not venture to resist the sentence of the -king, unjust as it might be. It was a strange state that France was in -at that period. Nobles would actually take arms against the royal -authority at one moment, and submit to the most arbitrary decrees the -next; and not only did De Brecy remain at Briare in obedience to the -king's command, but Richmond, with all his impetuous spirit, lingered -on at Parthenay for months. - -For some days after his arrival at his place of exile, occupied with -other thoughts, Jean Charost forgot Lomelini entirely; and when he did -remember him, and recalled the words which De Royans had spoken, he -asked himself, "Why should I seek for information which may probably -confirm the king's claim to the disposal of her I love?" - -Man's mind, however, abhors uncertainty. That thirst for knowledge -which was kindled in Paradise is upon us still. We would rather know -evil than know not. On the fourth day, toward eventide, he set out and -walked up to the abbey, and paused in the gray light, looking at the -gray gates. One of the brethren, gazing forth, asked him if he would -come in and see the church, and then De Brecy inquired for the abbot, -and if he were still brother Lomelini. - -The monk replied in the affirmative, but said the abbot seldom -received any one after sunset, unless he came on business of -importance, or was an old friend. - -"I am an old friend," replied Jean Charost. "Tell him Monsieur De -Brecy is here. I will wait till you return." - -He was speedily admitted, and Lomelini seemed really glad to see him. -He had become an old man, indeed, with hair as white as silver, had -grown somewhat bowed and corpulent, and was slightly querulous withal. -He complained of many things--of man's ingratitude--the dullness of -the place of his abode--the forgetfulness of friends--the perils of -the land, and all those things easily borne by the robust spirit of -youth, which age magnifies into intolerable burdens. Still, he seemed -gratified with Jean Charost's visit, and besought him to stay and take -a homely supper with him--poor monastic fare. But during the course of -the evening, and the meal with which it concluded, the young nobleman -found that his old acquaintance had lost none of that quiet subtlety -which had distinguished him in other days, and that his taste for good -things was in no degree diminished. It had increased, indeed. Like an -old dog, eating had become his only pleasure. He had become both a -glutton and an epicure. - -Before he took his departure, the young nobleman asked openly and -boldly for the papers which De Royans had mentioned. Lomelini looked -surprised and bewildered, and assured him that Monsieur de Royans had -made a mistake. "I recollect nothing about them whatever," he said, -with an air of so much sincerity, that Jean Charost, though he had -acquired a keener insight into character than in former times, did not -even doubt him. - -He went back from lime to time to see the old man, who always seemed -glad of his society, and, indeed, Jean Charost could not doubt that -company of any kind was a relief to one who was certainly not formed -by nature to pass his days in a monastery. He remarked, however, that -Lomelini from time to time would look at him from under his shaggy -white eyebrows with a look of cunning inquiry, as if he expected -something, or sought to discover something; but the moment their eyes -met, the abbot's were averted again, and he never uttered a word which -could give any clue to what was passing in his mind at such moments. - -Thus had time passed away, not altogether without relief; a few hasty -lines, sometimes from his mother, sometimes from Agnes Sorel, -sometimes from his own Agnes, gave him information of the welfare of -the latter, and cheered his spirits for a day. But often would the -momentary sunshine be clouded by dark anxieties and fears. - -He had not heard any thing for some weeks; and after a long ride -through the neighboring country, he was about to retire to rest, when -steps came rapidly through the long gallery of the inn, and stopped at -his chamber door. It was a young monk come to tell him that the abbot, -after supper, had been seized with sudden and perilous sickness, and -earnestly desired to see him instantly. Jean Charost hurried up with -the messenger to the abbey, and being brought into the old man's -chamber, instantly perceived that the hand of death had touched him: -the eyes spoke it, the temples spoke it, it was written in every line. - -Lomelini welcomed him faintly; and as Jean Charost bent kindly over -him, he said, almost in a whisper, "Bid all the others leave the -room--I have something to say to you." - -As soon as they were alone together, the old man said, "Put your hand -beneath my pillow. You will find something there." - -Jean Charost obeyed, and drew forth a packet, yellow and soiled. His -own name was written on it in a hand which he recognized at once. - -"Something more--something more," said Lomelini; and searching again, -he found another packet, also addressed to himself; but the seals of -this had been broken, though those on the other cover had been left -undisturbed. Without ceremony he unfolded the paper, and found within -a case of sandal wood inlaid with gold, and bearing the letters -M. S. F. twisted into a curious monograph. It opened with two small -clasps, and within were two rows of large and brilliant diamonds. - -De Brecy's examination had been quick and eager, and while he made it, -the dying man's eyes had been fixed upon his countenance. As he closed -the case, Lomelini raised his voice, saying, "Listen, Seigneur De -Brecy." - -Jean Charost put up the packets, and sat down by the old man's side. -He could not find it in his heart at that moment to speak harshly, -although he now easily divined why the packets had been kept from him, -so long. - -"What is it, father?" he said, bending his head. - -"What, not an angry word?" asked Lomelini. - -"Not one," replied Jean Charost. "I have too many sorrows of my own, -father, to add to yours just now." - -"Well, then, I will tell you all," said Lomelini. "You think I kept -these packets on account of the diamonds. That had something to do -with it; but there was more. After you entered the Orleans palace you -were trusted more than me. I had been the keeper of all secrets; you -became so. The duke's daughter was put under your charge, -notwithstanding your youth; and I resolved you should never be able to -prove her his daughter." - -"I knew not that she was so," replied Jean Charost. "The duke himself -knew it not." - -"Nay, nay, do not lie," said Lomelini, somewhat bitterly. "I watched -you--I watched you both well--I followed you to the convent of the -Celestins, where the murderer had taken sanctuary; and I know the -child was made over to you then, though you pretended to find it in -the forest." - -"On my Christian faith, and honor as a knight," replied De Brecy, "I -heard nothing either of murderer or child at the convent of the -Celestins. The dear babe _was_ given to me in the forest by a tall, -strange, wild-looking man, who seemed to me half crazed." - -"St. Florent himself," murmured Lomelini. - -"I call Heaven to witness," continued Jean Charost, "I never even -suspected any connection between the duke and that child till long -after--I am not sure of it even yet." - -"Be sure, then," said Lomelini, faintly. "The duke took her mother -from that mother's husband--carried her off by force one night as she -returned from a great fête, with those very diamonds on her neck." - -"By force!" murmured De Brecy; and then from a feeling difficult to -define, he added, "thank God for that!" - -"For what?" said Lomelini. "Doubtless she went willingly enough. Women -will scream and declare they are made miserable for life, and all -that. At all events, she stayed when she was there, and that was her -daughter; for I knew the child again as soon as I saw it at the -cottage, by a mark upon her temple; and the old father died of grief, -and the mad husband stole in one night and stabbed his wife, and -carried away the child; and that is all." - -He seemed to ramble, and a slight convulsion passed over his face. "I -know the whole," he added, "for I had a share in the whole," and a -deep groan followed. - -"Let me call in a priest," said De Brecy. "You have need of the -consolations of the Church." - -"Ay, ay; call in a priest," answered Lomelini, partly raising himself -on his arm. "I would not have my corpse kicked about the streets like -the carcass of a dog; but do not suppose I believe in any priestly -tales, young man. When life goes out, all is ended. I have enjoyed -this life. I want no other; I expect no other--I--I fear no -other--surely there is no other. Well, call in a priest--haste, or you -will be too late--is this faintness--is this death?" - -Jean Charost sprang to the door, near which he found several of the -monks. The penitentiary was called for in haste. But he was, as -Lomelini had said, too late. They found the abbot passed away, the -chin had dropped, the wide open eyes seemed to gaze at nothing, and -yet to have nothing within them. Something had departed which man -vainly tries to define by words, or to convey by figures. A spirit had -gone to learn the emptiness of the dreams of earth. - -With a slow step, and deep gloom upon his mind, Jean Charost turned -back to his dwelling. As he went, his thoughts were much occupied -with the dark, sad, material doctrines--philosophy I can not call -them--creed I can not call them--which at that time were but too -common among Italian ecclesiastics. When he was once more in his own -chamber, however, he took forth the packets he had received from -Lomelini, and opened the cover of the one which had the seals -unbroken. It contained a letter from the Duke of Orleans, brief and -sad, speaking of the child which De Brecy had adopted, of her mother, -and of the jewels contained in the other packet. The duke acknowledged -her as his child, saying, "I recognized her at once by the ring which -you showed me, as the daughter of her whom I wronged and have lost. It -was taken at the same time that my poor Marie's life was taken; for, -as you doubtless know, she was murdered under my very roof--yes, I say -murdered. Had the dagger found my heart instead of hers, another word, -perhaps, would have been better fitted; for mine was a wrong which -merited death. I wronged her; I wronged her murderer." - -He then went on to urge Jean Charost to perform well the task which he -had undertaken, and which he had certainly well performed without -exhortation; and the duke ended by saying, "I have seen you so far -tried, Monsieur De Brecy, that I can trust you entirely. I know that -you will be faithful to the task; and, as far as I have power to give -authority over my child, I hereby give it to you." - -Those were joyful words to Jean Charost, and for a moment he gave way -to wild and daring hopes. He thought he would claim that right, even -against the king himself; but short consideration, and what he knew of -the law of France, soon dimmed all expectation of success. - -The other papers which the packet contained were merely letters in a -woman's hand, signed Marie de St. Florent; but they were pleasant to -Jean Charost's eyes, for they showed how the unhappy girl had -struggled against her evil fate. In more than one of them, she -besought the duke to let her go--to place her in a convent, where, -unknown to all the world, she might pass the rest of life in penitence -and prayer. They spoke a spirit bowed down, but a heart uncorrupted. - -Several hours passed; not so much in the examination of these papers, -as in the indulgence of thoughts which they suggested; and it was -midway between midnight and morning when Jean Charost at length lay -down upon his bed. - - - - -CHAPTER LI. - - -De Brecy woke with a start just in the gray of the dawn. His thoughts -were confused. He had had troublous dreams. He had fancied himself in -the midst of war and strife again, and the well-known sounds, -"_Alerte! alerte! Aux armes! aux armes!_" seemed to ring in his ears. - -In an instant he had thrown on the furred gown which lay beside him, -and had seized his sword; but the only sound he now heard was a sharp -tap at the door, and a voice saying, "Monsieur De Brecy! Monsieur De -Brecy! Pray let me in. I wish to speak to you in haste." - -Jean Charost opened the door, and, to his surprise, beheld the face of -his good servant, Martin Grille, who had been especially left at the -court with Agnes, to attend upon and watch over her. A vague feeling -of alarm instantly took possession of De Brecy's heart, and he -exclaimed, ere the man could tell his errand, "How is your lady? Is -she ill?" - -"No, sir; not ill," replied Martin Grille; "though ill at ease, I have -a notion. But I have hastened here with such speed that I believe I -have left my horse no lungs, nor myself either, any more than a -cracked pair of bellows, to warn you, my lord, of a danger that -menaces you. So I beseech you, before you hear it, to order all your -people to get upon horseback, and make ready to set out yourself, for -there is no great time to lose." - -"Nay, I must hear the danger first," replied Jean Charost "What is the -matter, my good friend?" - -"Well, tell the people to get ready, at all events," said Martin, -earnestly; "then you can do as you like. Stories are sometimes long in -telling, questions long in asking, and longer in being answered. It is -better always, my lord, to be ready to act upon the news when it -comes, than to have to wait to make ready after you have got it." - -There was some truth in what he said; and Jean Charost sent by him the -orders he desired, nor was he long in giving them. - -"Now tell me all, while I am dressing," said his master, as soon as he -had returned. "I know no cause for fearing any thing; but it is an -uncertain world, good Martin, and there are unseen dangers around our -every step." - -"This one is plain enough," answered Martin Grille. "Nôtre Dame is not -plainer. It is simply, sir, that the king has sent a certain sergeant -of his, with a long troop of archers at his back, to arrest and bring -you to his presence. He is now at Bourges, in the house of good -Messire Jacques C[oe]ur, which he fills tolerably well; and the -distance not being very great from Bourges to Briare, you may expect -our friend the sergeant every hour. It was late at night, however, -when the order was given, and master sergeant vowed that he would have -a nap first, king or no king. But, vowing I would have no nap, I came -away at once; and so you have three good hours, and perhaps a few -minutes more." - -De Brecy mused, and then asked, "Do you know any motive for this -order?" - -"None at all," replied Martin Grille; "nor can I even guess. But I'll -tell you all that happened, as I have it from one who saw all. There -is one Jeanne de Vendôme about the court; they call her also Marquise -De Mortaigne--" - -"I have seen her," said Jean Charost. "What of her? Go on." - -"Why, she has a nephew, sir, one Peter of Vendôme," replied Martin -Grille, "whom she is very fond of; but he is an enemy of yours." - -"I never even saw him," replied De Brecy. - -"Well, sir, the king's mind is poisoned against you," said Martin -Grille, "that is clear enough; and I know not what else to attribute -it to. But, upon my word, you had better mount your horse and ride -away. I can tell you the rest of the story as we go. I never was a -very good horseman, and, if the sergeant rides better than I, he may -be here before we are in the saddle." - -"Well, be it so," said Jean Charost, thoughtfully. "Gather all those -things together, while I go and reckon with my host. I would rather -not be taken a prisoner into Bourges, and I think I will prevent it." - -He spoke with a slight smile, and yet some bitterness of tone; but -Martin Grille applied himself at once to pack up all that was in his -master's room, and in about half an hour Jean Charost and his -followers were in the saddle. - -"Were it not better to take the road to Bussiere, my lord?" said -Martin Grille, who rode somewhat near his master's person. "It seems -to me as if you were going toward Oussin." - -"No; methinks we shall be safer on this side," said Jean Charost. -"Now, as we ride along, let me hear all that has been passing at the -court. Perhaps I may be able to pick out some cause for this sudden -displeasure of the king." - -"Well, sir, I am sorry to be obliged to say what I must say," answered -Martin Grille; "but the king has treated you very ill. This Peter of -Vendôme, whom I was talking about--the devil plague him!--is at the -bottom of it all; though his aunt, who is a worse devil than himself, -manages the matter for him. She has taken it into her head that she -must ally herself to the royal family. Now, it runs every where at the -court that Mademoiselle Agnes is the daughter of the poor Duke of -Orleans, who was killed near the Porte Barbette; that she was -intrusted by him to your care; and that, for ambition, you want to -marry her, and then tell all the world who she is." - -Jean Charost had been gazing in his face for the last moment or two in -silence; but now he inclined his head slowly, saying, "Go on. I now -see how it is." - -"Well, sir, about a month ago this Jeanne de Vendôme proposed to the -king that her nephew should marry our young lady, and the king, it -would seem, was willing enough; but a certain beautiful lady you know -of opposed it, and, as she can do nearly what she likes, for some time -the day went with her. Then Jeanne of Vendôme went and curried favor -with Monsieur La Trimouille, who can do nearly what he likes on the -other side, and then the day went against us for some time. The king -was very violent, and swore that if he had any power or authority over -Mademoiselle Agnes, she should marry Peter of Vendôme, though she told -him all the while she would not, and begged him, humbly and devoutly, -rather to let her go into a nunnery. Kings will have their way, -however, sir, and things were looking very bad, when suddenly, three -days ago, our young lady disappeared--" - -"Where did she go to? Where is she?" asked Jean Charost, sharply. - -"That I can not tell, sir," answered Martin Grille; "but she is safe -enough, I am sure; for when I told Mademoiselle De St. Geran about it, -she said, with one of her enchanting smiles, 'Has she, indeed, my good -man? Well, I dare say God will protect her.' But the king did not take -it so quietly. He was quite furious; and neither Peter of Vendôme nor -his aunt would let his passion cool." - -"Doubtless attributed it all to me," said Jean Charost, whose face had -greatly lighted up within the last few minutes. But Martin Grille -replied, to his surprise, "I do not think they did, sir. The painted -old woman hinted, though she did not venture to say so, that the -beautiful young lady you wot of had helped her namesake's escape; and -the nephew said that if the king would but sign the papers, he would -soon find the fugitive, for he had a shrewd notion of where she was." - -"He did not sign them!" exclaimed Jean Charost, with a look of dread. - -"He had well-nigh done it, my lord," replied Martin Grille. "Last -night, when the king was sitting with the queen in the large black -room on the second floor, which you remember well--very melancholy he -was, for somewhat of a coolness had sprung up between him and her whom -he loves best, and he can not live without her--they brought him in -the papers to sign, that is to say, Peter of Vendôme and his aunt, -looking all radiant and triumphant. Some one watched them, however; -for, just at that minute, in came the chancellor and two or three -others, and among them one of the pages, with a paper in his hand -addressed to the king. The king took it, just looked at the top, and -then handing it up to the chancellor, was about to sign what Peter of -Vendôme demanded, and let him go; but Monsieur Des Ursins--that is the -chancellor--cried, 'Hold, your majesty. This is important; in good and -proper form; and must have your royal attention.' Then he read it out; -but I can not tell you all that it contained. However, it was a -prohibition, in good set form, for any one to dispose of the hand, -person, or property of our young lady, Mademoiselle Agnes, either in -marriage, wardship, or otherwise, and setting forth that the writer -was her true and duly-constituted guardian, according to the laws of -France. It was signed 'St. Florent;' and, though the king was mighty -angry, the chancellor persuaded him not to sign the papers till the -right of the appellant, as he called it, was decided by some competent -tribunal." - -"And how came you to know all this so accurately?" asked Jean Charost, -after meditating for several minutes over what he had heard. - -"Part one way, part another, my noble lord," replied Martin Grille. -"Principally, however, I learned the facts from a young cousin of -mine, who is now chief violin player to the queen. When she found her -husband so dull that night, she sent for Petit Jean to solace him, -because she could not very well have sent for the person who would -have solaced him best. He heard all, and marked all, and told me all; -for you are a great favorite of his. However, I had something to do -with it afterward myself; for the king, knowing that I was in the -house, sent for me, and made me tell him whether, when you were last -in Berri, you signed your name St. Florent. I was frightened out of my -wits, and said I believed you did. The next minute the king said, -looking sharply at the sergeant, who was standing near, 'Bring him at -once from Briare. Lose no time.' Then he turned to me, with a face -quite savage, and said, 'You may go.' I thought he was going to add, -'to the devil;' but he did not, and I slunk out of the room. The -sergeant went out at the same time; but he laughed, and said, 'Sleep -wasted no time, and he was not going to set off for Briare at -midnight, not he.' So I did, instead of him; for as I feared I had -done some mischief, I thought I might as well do some good." - -Jean Charost smiled with a less embarrassed look than he had worn -during the ride; but he made no reply, and during the next half hour -he seemed to hear nothing that Martin Grille said, although it must -not be affirmed that Martin Grille said nothing. It were hardly fair -to look into his thoughts, to inquire whether the injustice he had met -with, the wrong which was meditated against him, and the ingratitude -for services performed and suffering endured in the royal cause had -shaken his love toward the king. Suffice it, they had not shaken his -loyalty toward his country, and that although he might contemplate -flying with his Agnes beyond the reach of an arm that oppressed him, -he never dreamed of drawing his sword against his native land, or of -doing aught to undermine the throne of a prince to whom he had sworn -allegiance. - -At length, however, Martin Grille pulled him by the sleeve, saying, "I -can not help thinking, my good lord, that you are taking a wrong -course. You are going on right toward Bourges, and at any point of the -road you may meet with the sergeant and his men. Indeed, I saw just -now a party of horsemen on the hill there. They have come down into -the valley; but that is the high road to Bourges they were upon." - -"My good friend, I am going to Bourges," replied Jean Charost; "but as -I do not intend to go as a prisoner, if I can help it, we will turn -aside a little here, and go round Les Barres, that hamlet you see -there. We can then follow the by-roads for eight or ten miles further, -and cross the river at Cosne. I know this country well; for, during -the last twelvemonth, I have had nothing to do but to think, and to -explore it." - - - - -CHAPTER LII. - - -It gives one a curious sensation to stand on the spot where great -deeds have been enacted: to tread the halls where true tragedies have -been performed: to fancy one sees the bloody stains upon the floor: to -fill the air with the grim faces of the actors: to imagine one's self -surrounded with the fierce passions of other days, like midnight -ghosts emitted from the grave. I have stood in the small chamber where -the most brutal murder that ever stained the name of a great nation -was devised and ordered by the counselors of John of Bedford. I have -stood where an act of justice took the form of assassination against -Henry of Guise. I have beheld the prison of the guilty and the unhappy -Mary, and the lingering death-chamber of the innocent and luckless -Arabella Stuart. But, although these sights were full of deep -interest, and even awe, the effect was not so strange as that produced -by passing through ancient places of more domestic interest, where -courts and kings, the brave, the fair, the good, the wise, or their -opposite, had lived and loved, enjoyed and suffered, reveled and wept, -in times long, long gone by. Often, when I have read some glowing -description of mask or pageant, or scene of courtly splendor, and have -visited the place where it occurred, I have asked myself, with wonder, -"Could it have been here, in this mean and poor-looking place?" and -have been led from an actual comparison of the scene with that -described in the past, to conclude that in those earlier days men were -satisfied with much less, and that the splendor of those times would -be no splendor to ourselves. - -The great hall of Jacques C[oe]ur, the wealthiest merchant in France, -now holding high office at the court, and, in fact, the royal -treasurer--a hall celebrated throughout all Berri--was indeed a large -and well-shaped apartment, but still very simple in all its -decorations. It was, perhaps, more than forty feet in length, and four -or five and twenty feet in width: was vaulted above with a -semicircular arch, ceiled with long planks, finely jointed together, -of some dark, unpolished wood. The same material lined the whole hall; -but on the walls the wood was polished and paneled, and four -pilasters, in the Italian fashion, ornamented each corner of the wall, -and seemed, but only seemed, to support the roof. - -Many candles were required to give light to that large dark room; but -it was very insufficiently illuminated. What little light there was -fell principally upon the figure of the young king, as, seated at a -small table in the midst, he leaned his head upon his hand in a -somewhat melancholy attitude, and bent his eyes down toward the floor. - -"Will she come?" he said to himself; "will she come? And if she will -not, how must I act? This good merchant says she will? but I doubt -it--I doubt it much. Hers is a determined spirit; and once she has -chosen her part, she abides by it obstinately. Well, it is no use -asking myself if she will come, or thinking what I must do if she -refuse. Kings were made to command men, I suppose, and women to -command them;" and a faint smile came upon his lips at the conceit. - -While it still hung there, a door opened hard by--not the great door -of the hall, but a smaller one on the right--and a sweet voice said, -"Your majesty sent for me." - -"Agnes!" said the king, rising and taking her hand, "Agnes! why have -you left me so long?" - -"Because I have been ill and miserable," she answered; and the tears -rose in her beautiful eyes. - -"And I have been ill and miserable too," said Charles, leading her to -a seat close by his own. "Do you not know," he continued, in an -earnest and sad voice, "that, from time to time, a moody, evil spirit -seems to take possession of me, making me sicken at all the toil and -pomp of state, at all the splendor, and even all the gayety of a -court? His visits are becoming more frequent and more long. There is -no one can drive him from me but you, Agnes." - -"Can I drive him from you always?" she asked. "Has he not resisted me -lately, very lately, till I lost hope, lost courage, and was repelled, -to take counsel with my own heart, and listen to all its bitter -self-reproach. Charles, Charles! oh, my king and lord! there is -nothing can console--nothing can comfort--under the weight of my own -thoughts, but to believe and know that you are worthy of better love -than mine--the love of your whole people. Take not that comfort from -me. Let me, let me believe that passion, nor moodiness, nor any evil -spirit will lead you to do an act of injustice to any of your -subjects." - -"Well, well," said Charles, kissing her hand, "it shall be as you -will, my Agnes. You shall decide De Brecy's fate yourself, of however -rebellious a spirit he may be--however insolent his tone. I will -forgive him for your sake. It shall be as you will." - -"Nay, not so," answered Agnes, gently, "I ask you not to forgive -insolence or rebellion. All I beseech you is, to inquire unprejudiced, -and judge without favor. De Brecy is somewhat bold, and free of -speech. He always was so, even from his boyhood; but he is faithful -and true in all things. I saw him peril his life rather than give up a -letter to the Duke of Burgundy. I saw him submit to the torture rather -than betray to the Council the secrets of your uncle, the Duke of -Orleans. It is his nature to speak fearlessly, but it is his nature to -speak truly; and all I ask of you is to judge of him as he is, -untinged by the yellow counsels of Trimouille, or the black falsehoods -of that woman of Vendôme. I hear that some paper he has sent you has -excited your anger, and that you have ordered his arrest. Before -you judge, investigate, my dear lord. Remember that he has many -enemies--that he has offended Trimouille, who never forgives; and that -the love of my bright little namesake for him is an obstacle in the -way of Jeanne of Vendôme, than whom a more poisonous viper does not -crawl upon the earth." - -"I will investigate," answered Charles. "I will judge unprejudiced; -and my better angel shall be by my side to see whether I keep my word -with her." - -"Not alone, not alone," said Agnes, "or they will say, in their -malice, that favor for me, not sense of justice, has swayed the king. -Have your chancellor here. He is a noble man, and true of heart. Nay, -let all who will be present, to see you act, as I know you will act, -justly and nobly--sternly, if you will; for I would not even have love -pleading for love affect you in this matter. Oh, think only, my noble -Charles, of how you may have been deceived against this young -gentleman, how Trimouille's enmity may have read an evil gloss upon -his actions, how Jeanne of Vendôme and her false nephew may have -distorted the truth. Take the whole course of his life to witness in -his favor; and then, if you assoil him of any fault--then Agnes, -perhaps, may plead for favor to him." - -"She shall not plead in vain," said Charles embracing her. "Some time -to-morrow probably, the sergeant will be back, and I will hear and -judge his cause at once, for we are lingering in Bourges too long. -There is, moreover," he continued, holding her hand in his, and gazing -into her eyes with a smile, "there is another cause for speedy -decision. The king's authority, till this is all concluded, suffers -some contempt. A daring act has been committed against our state and -dignity, and hints have reached us that the traitor is above our -power. 'Tis policy, in such a case, not to investigate too closely, -but to remove all cause of contest as soon as possible." - -Agnes sank upon her knees, with a glowing cheek, and bent down her -fair forehead on his hand, murmuring, "Forgive me--oh, forgive me!" - -Charles threw his arm round her fondly, saying, "Thank thee, my -Agnes--thank thee for letting me have something to forgive." - -She was still at his feet, when some one knocked at the door, and, -raising her gently, Charles said aloud, "Come in." - -"May it please your majesty," said a page, entering, "Monsieur De -Brecy waits below to know your pleasure concerning him." - -A slight flush passed over the king's cheek. "This is quick, indeed," -said Charles. "Why does not the sergeant whom I sent present himself?" - -"There is no sergeant there, your majesty. Monsieur De Brecy, with a -few attendants, came but a moment ago, and is in the vestibule below -with Messire Jacques C[oe]ur." - -"Let him wait," said Charles; "and, in the mean time, summon Monsieur -Des Ursins hither. Wait; I will give you a list of names." - -"Now, Agnes," continued the king, when he had dispatched the boy, "I -will act as you would have me. We must have other ladies here. Go call -some, love--some who will best support you." - -About an hour after, in that same hall, Charles was seated at the -table in the midst, with his bonnet on his head, and some papers -before him. The queen was placed near, and some fifteen or sixteen -ladies and gentlemen, members of the court, stood in a semicircle -round. The door opened, and, ushered in by one of the attendants, Jean -Charost, followed close by Jacques C[oe]ur, advanced up the hall with -a bold, free step. When within two paces of the table, he paused, and -bowed his head to the king, but without speaking. - -"Monsieur De Brecy," said Charles, "I sent one of the sergeants of our -court to bring you hither." - -"So I have heard, sire," replied De Brecy; "but, learning beforehand -that your majesty required my presence, I set out at once to place -myself at your disposal." - -"You have done well," said the king; "and we would fain believe that -there is no contempt of our authority, nor disloyalty toward our -person, at the bottom of your heart." - -"I have proved my loyalty and my reverence, sire," replied De Brecy, -"by shedding my blood for you in the field against your enemies, at -all times, and on all occasions, and by lingering in inactivity for -long months at Briare in obedience to your commands." - -"Well," said the king, "it is well. But there be special -circumstances, when men's own interests or passions will lead them to -forget the general line of duty, and cancel good services by great -faults. Charges of this kind are made against you." - -"My lord, they are false," replied De Brecy; "and I will prove them -so, either in your royal court, by evidence good and true, or in the -lists against my accuser, my body against his, and God to judge -between us." - -He glanced, as he spoke, toward a slight young man standing beside La -Trimouille; and the king, mistaking his look, replied, with a light -laugh, "Our ministers are not challenged to the field for their -actions, Monsieur De Brecy. La Trimouille is a flight above you." - -"I thought not of Monsieur La Trimouille, sire," replied De Brecy. "I -know not that I have offended him; and, moreover, I hold him to be the -best minister your majesty ever had, because the one who has made your -authority the most respected. I spoke generally of any accuser." - -"Well, then," said the king, "in the first place, tell me, with that -truth and freedom of speech for which you have a somewhat rough -reputation, have you, or have you not just cause to think that a young -lady who has been brought up under your charge from infancy, and -lately at our court, is the daughter of our late uncle, the Duke of -Orleans?" - -"I have, sire," answered De Brecy. - -"Then how did you presume to claim the guardianship of her against our -power?" said the king, sternly. "As our first cousin, legitimate or -illegitimate, she is our ward." - -"My answer is simple, sire," replied De Brecy. "I have never done what -your majesty says; and if I had, when last I stood before you, I -should have done it in ignorance; for it is but three days since I -received from one Lomelini, abbot of Briare, then upon his death-bed, -any certain information regarding her birth. These packets should have -been delivered to me long before, but they were retained through -malice. I now lay them before you, to judge of them as may seem meet." - -"Look at them, Des Ursins," said the king; and the chancellor took -them up. - -"I can prove, my lord the king," said Juvenel de Royans, stepping -forward, "that when last in Berri, Monsieur De Brecy was quite -uncertain whose child the young lady was; for we had a long -conversation on the subject when he gallantly threw himself into the -citadel of this place, to aid us in defending it for your majesty." - -"Silence! silence!" said the king; and taking up a paper, he held it -out toward De Brecy, saying, "Did you sign that paper, sir?" - -"No, sire," replied De Brecy; "I never saw it before." - -"Then whose is it?" cried the king. - -"Mine," replied the voice of an old man, in somewhat antiquated -garments, standing a step or two behind Agnes Sorel. "I signed that -paper, of right;" and advancing with a feeble step, he placed himself -opposite the king. - -"And who may you be, reverend sir?" demanded Charles, gazing at him -with much surprise. - -"The man whose name is there written," replied the stranger. "William, -count of St. Florent; the only lawful guardian of the girl you wrangle -for. You took my property and gave it to another. I heeded not, -because I have no such needs now. But when you sought to take away the -guardianship of this poor girl from him to whom I intrusted her, and -to bestow her hand upon a knave, I came forward to declare and to -maintain my rights. They have been dormant long; but they are not -extinct. Each year have I seen her since she was an infant; each year -have I performed some act of lordship in the fief of St. Florent; and -I claim my right in the King's Court--my right to my estates--my right -in my--" He paused for an instant, and seemed to hesitate; but then -added, quickly, and in a tremulous voice, "in my child." - -The king looked confounded, and turned toward the chancellor, who was -at that moment speaking eagerly to Agnes Sorel, with the fell eyes of -Jeanne of Vendôme fixed meaningly upon them both. - -"Monsieur Des Ursins," said the king, "you hear what he says." - -"I do, sire," answered the chancellor, coming forward. "You have made -your appeal, sir," he continued, addressing the old man, "and perhaps, -if you can prove your statements, his majesty may graciously admit -your rights without the trouble of carrying your claim before the -courts. You have to show, first, that you are really the Count of St. -Florent; secondly, that the young lady in question is legally to be -looked upon as the daughter of that nobleman. Her birth, at present, -is not at all established. None of these letters but one prove any -thing, and that proves only a vague belief on the part of a prince -long since dead." - -The old man drew himself sternly up to his full height, which was very -great, and said, "You ask me for bitter proofs, chancellor. Methinks -you might know me yourself, for I first gave you a sword." - -"I can be no witness in my own court," said the chancellor; "and the -cause, if it be tried, must come before me." - -"Stand forward, then, Jacques C[oe]ur," cried the other. "Do you know -your old friend?" - -"Right well," answered Jacques C[oe]ur, advancing from behind De -Brecy. "This, please your majesty, is William, count of St. Florent. I -have seen him at intervals of not more than two or three years ever -since he disappeared from the court and army of France, and have -received for him, and paid to him, the very small sum he has drawn -from the revenues of St. Florent. If my testimony is not enough, I can -bring forward twenty persons to prove his identity." - -There was a dead silence for several moments; but then the chancellor -said, addressing the king, "This may be, perhaps, admitted, sire. I -have no doubt of the count's identity. But there is nothing to show -any connection whatever between him and this young lady, whom the Duke -of Orleans, in this letter, seems to have claimed as his daughter." - -At these words, a fierce, eager fire seemed lighted up in the old -man's eyes, and taking a step forward, he exclaimed, "Ay, such claim -as a robber has to the gold of him whom he has murdered!" Then, -suddenly stopping, he clasped his hands together, let his eyes fall -thoughtfully, and murmured, "Forgive me, Heaven! Sire, I have forgot -myself," he said, in a milder tone. "My right to the child is easy to -prove. I was her mother's husband. She was born in marriage. I myself -gave her into the arms of this young man," and he laid his hand upon -De Brecy's shoulder. "With him she has ever been till the time you -took her from him. Let him speak for himself. Did he not receive her -from me?" - -"Most assuredly I did," replied De Brecy; "and never even dreamed for -a moment, at the time, that any one had a claim to her but yourself." - -"Nor had they--nor have they," replied St Florent, sternly. - -"But it is strange, good sir," said Charles, "that you should trust -your child to the guardianship of another; that other a mere youth, -and, from what I have heard, well-nigh a stranger to you." - -"There are wrongs, King of France, which will drive men mad," said St. -Florent, fixing his eyes full upon the king's face. "Mine were such -wrongs, and I was so driven mad. But yet in this act, which you call -strange, I was more sane than in aught else. This young man's father I -knew and loved, before he ruined himself for his king, and died for -his country. Of the youth himself I had heard high and noble report -from this good merchant here. I had seen him once, too, in the convent -of the Celestins, and what I saw was good. I knew that I could trust -her to none better, and I trusted her to him." - -"But can you prove that she is your wife's daughter?" asked La -Trimouille; "for these papers in the hands of the chancellor seem to -show, and Monsieur De Brecy himself admits there is cause to believe, -that she is the child of the late Duke of Orleans, and consequently a -ward of the king." - -He spoke in a mild, sweet tone; but his words seemed almost to drive -St. Florent to madness. His whole face worked, his eyes flashed, and -the veins in his temple swelled. "Man, would you tear my heart out?" -he exclaimed, in a fearful tone. "Would you drag forth the dead from -the grave to desecrate their memory?" and snatching up the other -packet which De Brecy had laid upon the table, he tore off the cover, -exclaiming, "Ha! these are trinkets. Poor, lost, unhappy girl!" and, -laying his finger upon the cover, he looked sternly at La Trimouille, -saying, "Whose are these arms? Mine! Whose are these initials? -Hers--Marie de St. Florent!" - -As he spoke, he opened the case and gazed upon the diamonds. "Oh, -Marie, Marie," he said, "when I clasped these round thy neck, little -did I think--But no more of that. My lord the king, what does your -majesty say to my just claim? I gave my daughter's guardianship to -this young man: I now give him her hand. I ratify your gift of the -lands and lordships of St. Florent. What says your majesty?" - -"In sooth, I know not what to say or think," answered Charles. - -"I think I see my way, sire," said the chancellor; "although the case -is somewhat complicated. If Monsieur De St. Florent can prove that -this young lady is the daughter of his wife, he is undoubtedly, by the -law of France, her lawful guardian, and all opposition to his claim -grounded on other facts is vain. So much for that view of the case. -But even supposing he can not prove the fact, here is a letter from -his highness the Duke of Orleans, whose handwriting I well know, -which, though somewhat informal, contains matter which clearly conveys -the whole of his authority over the young lady, if he had any, to -Monsieur De Brecy. In either case, then, your majesty can not err, nor -violate any of your own edicts, or those of your predecessors, by -restoring the guardianship to him from whom it has been taken under a -misapprehension. Any other course, I think, would be dangerous, and -form a very evil precedent." - -Trimouille bit his lip, and Jeanne de Vendôme slowly nodded her head, -with a bitter smile, toward Agnes Sorel. - -"So be it, then," said the king, with a gracious look toward Jean -Charost. "Take her back, De Brecy, if you can find her, which we doubt -not; and if you bestow her hand on any one else but yourself, he shall -have our favor for your sake. If you wed her yourself, we will dance -at the wedding, seeing that you have submitted with patience and -obedience to a sentence which we sternly pronounced, and sternly -executed against you, in order to teach all our court and subjects -that not even those whom we most highly esteem, and who have served us -best, will be permitted to oppose our expressed will, or show -disobedience to our commands. Your sentence of exile from our court is -recalled, and we shall expect, not only your attendance, but your -service also; for, wedded or unwedded, we can spare no good sword from -the cause of France." - -He spoke gayly and gracefully, and then looking round with a smile, he -said, "Is there no wise and pitiful person who, in charity, can give -us some information of where our fair fugitive is?" - -"In my castle of St. Florent," said the old count, who had now sunk -down again into the appearance of age and decrepitude; "and there De -Brecy will find her to-morrow. Let him take her, and let him take her -inheritance also; for I go back to my own living tomb, to work out the -penance of deeds done in madness and despair." - -"Methinks, sire," said Jean Charost, who had marked some facts which -created suspicion, "it were well that I should go to-night. St. -Florent is very insufficiently guarded, and these are strange times." - -"Nay, nay, this is lovers' haste," said Charles. "But, as you say, -there may be danger of rash enterprises on the part of rivals, now -that her abode is known. We will therefore, to spare all scandal, -entreat some fair lady to undertake the task of bringing her back to -the court this very night, which is not yet far advanced. Who will -undertake it? She shall have good escort, commanded by this gallant -knight himself." - -"I am ready, sire," said Jeanne de Vendôme. - -"Then, I beseech your majesty, let me go also," exclaimed Agnes Sorel, -eagerly. - -Charles looked from the one to the other, and replied, somewhat -jestingly, "Both go. A litter shall be prepared at once; and as a -moderator between you--ladies not always well agreeing when too -closely confined--I will ask our good friend Messire Jacques C[oe]ur -to accompany you. Quick, ladies! prepare. De Brecy, see for your -horses; and on your return you shall sup with us, and we will forget -all but what is pleasant in the dream that is past." - - - - -CHAPTER LIII. - - -A little after ten o'clock at night, a party of some five-and-twenty -persons, escorting one of the large horse-litters of the day, stopped -in the court-yard of the old Castle of St. Florent. One or two -servants came forth to meet them, and instantly recognized De Brecy's -right to admission. Lights were procured; and the young nobleman -himself, handing Agnes Sorel from the litter, led her into the great -hall, while Jacques C[oe]ur followed with Jeanne de Vendôme. - -"My indignation at that woman's duplicity," whispered Agnes Sorel, as -they advanced, "has made me very thirsty. Let them bring me some -water, my friend." - -Jean Charost gave the order she desired to the servant who went before -them with the lights, and the whole party of four paused for an -instant in the hall, Agnes Sorel bending her eyes upon the ground, as -if lost in thought. Suddenly, however, she raised her head, saying, -"Come, De Brecy, I will not keep you from your love. I will lead you -to her. I know where she is to be found." - -"Ha!" said Jeanne de Vendôme, with a very marked emphasis, as Jean -Charost and his fair companion left the room. - -"Will you not go with them, madam?" asked Jacques C[oe]ur, who had no -great love for the lady left behind. - -"I think not," replied Jeanne de Vendôme, in a quiet, easy tone. -"Lovers' meetings should have as few witnesses as possible;" and she -and Jacques C[oe]ur remained in the hall, the good merchant going to -the window, and gazing out upon the night. - -A minute or two after, the servant returned with a flagon of water -from the castle well, and a silver drinking-cup. These he set upon the -table, and retired. Jeanne de Vendôme gazed at them for a moment, and -then said, aloud, "I am thirsty too." - -Quietly approaching the table, she placed herself in such a position -as to stand between the flagon and Jacques C[oe]ur, poured herself out -some water, drank, set down the cup again, and after remaining a short -time in that position, turned to the window, and took her place beside -the merchant. - -In the mean time, Jean Charost, with a light in his hand, accompanied -Agnes Sorel up the stairs, and through a long passage at the top. - -"You seem to know the castle even better than I do," he said, as she -guided him on. - -"I have been this road in secret once before," she answered, gayly. -"Mine is a happier errand now, De Brecy. But we must thread out the -labyrinth. I have hid your little gem where best it might lie -concealed." - -A few moments more, however, brought them to a door which Agnes Sorel -opened, and there, with an elderly waiting-maid of Madame De Brecy's, -stood his own Agnes, gazing with anxious terror toward the door. She -was somewhat pale, somewhat thinner than she had been, and the noise -of horses' feet in the court below had made her heart beat fearfully. -The moment she saw De Brecy, however, she sprang forward and cast -herself into his arms. He pressed her closely to his heart; but all he -could say was, "My Agnes--my own Agnes--all is well, and you are -mine." - -Agnes Sorel put a fair hand upon the arm of each. "May you love ever -as you love now," she said, "and may God bless you in your love. Oh, -De Brecy, just a year ago you gave me the most painful moment I have -ever felt. When I told you I would guard and protect her, there came -such a look--oh, such a look into your face--a look of doubt and fear, -more reproachful, more monitory, more condemnatory than any thing but -my own heart has ever spoken. I give her back to you now, pure, and -bright, and true as you left her with me, with the bloom and -brightness of her mind as fresh and unsoiled as ever. Love her, and be -beloved, and may God bless you ever." - -De Brecy took her hand and kissed it. "For how much have I to thank -you," he answered; "for all--for every thing; for I am certain that -but for your influence this happy meeting would have never been." - -"It might not," answered Agnes, with a cheek glowing with many -emotions. "But I call Heaven to witness, De Brecy, the influence I -unrightly possess has never been, and never shall be exercised but to -do justice, to prompt aright, and to lead to honor. Now let us go. -Agnes, you must back with us to the court as the bride of him you -love. Make no long preparation nor delay. You will find us waiting for -you in the hall. Come, De Brecy, come. More lovers' words another -time." - -When they reached the hall, Agnes advanced at once to the table, -filled the cup, and drank; then, turning gayly to Jacques C[oe]ur, she -said, "We have not been long, my friend. I went on purpose to cut -caresses short. Our fair companion will be here anon. How brightly the -stars are shining. Methinks it would be very pleasant if one could -wing one's way there up aloft, and look into the brilliant eyes of -heaven." - -A minute or two after, she turned somewhat pale, and seated herself in -a large arm-chair which stood near. She said nothing; but an -expression of pain passed across her countenance. Shortly after, De -Brecy's Agnes entered, prepared to go; and Agnes Sorel rose, -supporting herself by the arm of the chair, and saying, "Let us be -quick; I feel far from well." - -She was soon placed in the litter, and they went on quickly toward -Bourges; but once or twice, during the short journey, Jacques C[oe]ur -put forth his head, urging the drivers of the litter to make more -haste. When they entered the court-yard of his house, and the litter -stopped before the great door, the good merchant sprang out at once, -saying, "Help me to carry her in, Jean. She is very ill." - -They lifted her out in their arms, and bore her into the house, pale -and writhing. Confusion and dismay spread through the court. -Physicians were called, and gave some relief. She became somewhat -better--well enough to travel to a distant castle; but, ere six weeks -were over, the kind, the beautiful, the frail was in her grave, and -none knew how she died. - -From that moment a fear of poison seized upon the mind of Charles the -Seventh, and affected the happiness of all his after days. - -The king did not keep his promise of being present at the marriage of -De Brecy and Agnes de St. Florent, and their own joy was baptized in -sorrow. - - - -FOOTNOTES - -[Footnote 1: Jacques C[oe]ur, it would seem, alluded to a fact not -generally stated by English historians, which I may as well mention -here as a curious illustration of the habits of those times. After the -death of the unhappy Richard the Second, when it was currently -reported throughout Europe that the successful usurper had put him to -death in prison, the Duke of Orleans sent a cartel to Henry of -Lancaster, by the hands of Champagne, king-at-arms, and Orleans his -herald, demanding a combat of one hundred noblemen of France against -one hundred of the Lancastrian party of England, the one party to be -headed by the duke, the other by the new King of England. He gave the -choice of any place between Angoulême and Bordeaux, and endeavored -earnestly to bring about the meeting. Henry, in his reply, evading the -demand, takes exception to the titles which the Duke had given him, -stands upon his dignity as a king, and expresses great surprise that -the duke should call him to the field without having previously -solemnly abjured an alliance contracted between them in the year 1396. -To this the Duke of Orleans tartly replied, in a letter full of -pungent and bitter satire. Among other galling passages is the -following: "And as to what you say, that no lord or knight, let his -condition be what it will, ought to demand a combat without renouncing -his alliance (with his adversary), I am not aware that you renounced -to your lord the King Richard your oath of fealty to him before you -proceeded against his person in the manner which you have done." And -again: "As to what you write, that whatever a prince and king does -ought to be done for the honor of God, and for the common benefit of -all Christendom and his own kingdom, and not for vain-glory, nor for -any temporal cupidity, I reply that you say well; but if you had so -acted in your own country in times past, many things which you have -done would not have been perpetrated in the land in which you live." -By such expressions he galled Henry the Fourth into an indefinite sort -of acceptance of his challenge, though the English king would not -condescend to name time or place. The letters are still extant, and -are very curious.] - -[Footnote 2: His exact words.] - -[Footnote 3: He afterward nobly proved his devotion to Charles the -Seventh, by an act which distinguished him more than all the military -services he rendered to that prince. His dismissal from the court was -demanded, as the price of even a partial reconciliation between the -king and the young Duke of Burgundy. Charles resisted firmly; but Du -Châtel voluntarily resigned all his prospects and retired, to free his -master from embarrassment.] - -[Footnote 4: A large piece of artillery, which threw immense balls of -stone, evidently by the force of gunpowder. It was by the discharge of -one of these that the famous Earl of Salisbury was killed under the -walls of Orleans the following year.] - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Agnes Sorel, by -G. P. R. 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P. R. (George Payne Rainsford James) - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Agnes Sorel - A Novel - -Author: G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford James) - -Release Date: March 5, 2016 [EBook #51352] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AGNES SOREL *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by -Google Books (the New York Public Library) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<p class="hang1">Transcriber's Notes:<br> -1. Page scan source:<br> -https://books.google.com/books?id=h9ghAAAAMAAJ<br> -(the New York Public Library)</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>AGNES SOREL.</h3> -<br> -<h3>A Novel</h3> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>BY G. P. R. JAMES, ESQ.,</h4> -<br> -<h5>AUTHOR OF<br> -<span style="font-size:larger"> -"LIFE OF VICISSITUDES," "PEQUINILLO," "THE FATE," "AIMS AND<br> -OBSTACLES," "HENRY SMEATON," "THE WOODMAN," &c., &c., &c.</span></h5> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>NEW YORK:<br> -HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,<br> -<span style="font-size:smaller">329 & 331 PEARL STREET,<br> -<span style="font-size:smaller">FRANKLIN SQUARE.</span></span><br> -1864</h4> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<p class="center" style="font-size:9pt">Entered, according to Act of Congress, -in the year one thousand eight hundred and fifty-three, by<br> -<br> -GEORGE P. R. JAMES,<br> -<br> -in the Office of the Clerk of the District Court of the Southern District of New -York.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h5>TO</h5> -<br> -<h3>MAUNSELL B. FIELD, ESQ.,</h3> -<br> -<h4>NOT ONLY AS THE COMPANION OF SOME OF MY LITERARY LABORS, BUT<br> -AS MY DEAR FRIEND; NOT ONLY AS A GENTLEMAN AND A MAN<br> -OF HONOR, BUT AS A MAN OF GENIUS AND OF FEELING;<br> -NOT ONLY AS ONE WHO DOES HONOR TO HIS OWN<br> -COUNTRY, BUT AS ONE WHO WOULD DO<br> -HONOR TO ANY,</h4> -<br> -<h3>This Book is Dedicated, with sincere Regard,</h3> - -<h3>BY G. P. R. JAMES.</h3> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>AGNES SOREL.</h3> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER I.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">How strange the sensation would be, how marvelously -interesting the -scene, were we to wake up from some quiet night's rest and find -ourselves suddenly transported four or five hundred years back--living -and moving among the men of a former age!</p> - -<p class="normal">To pass from the British fortress of Gibraltar, with drums and fifes, -red coats and bayonets, in a few hours, to the coast of Africa, and -find one's self surrounded by Moors and male petticoats, turbans and -cimeters, is the greatest transition the world affords at present; but -it is nothing to that of which I speak. How marvelously interesting -would it be, also, not only to find one's self brought in close -contact with the customs, manners, and characteristics of a former -age, with all our modern notions strong about us, but to be met at -every turn by thoughts, feelings, views, principles, springing out of -a totally different state of society, which have all passed away, and -moldered, like the garments in which at that time men decorated -themselves.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such, however, is the leap which I wish the reader to take at the -present moment; and--although I know it to be impossible for him to -divest himself of all those modern impressions which are a part of his -identity--to place himself with me in the midst of a former period, -and to see himself surrounded for a brief space with the people, and -the things, and the thoughts of the fifteenth century.</p> - -<p class="normal">Let me premise, however, in this prefatory chapter, that the object of -an author, in the minute detail of local scenery and ancient customs, -which he is sometimes compelled to give, and which are often objected -to by the animals with long ears that browse on the borders of -Parnassus, is not so much to show his own learning in antiquarian -lore, as to imbue his reader with such thoughts and feelings as may -enable him to comprehend the motives of the persons acting before his -eyes, and the sensations, passions, and prejudices of ages passed -away. Were we to take an unsophisticated rustic, and baldly tell him, -without any previous intimation of the habits of the time, that the -son of a king of England one day went out alone--or, at best, with a -little boy in his company--all covered over with iron; that he betook -himself to a lone and desolate pass in the mountains, traversed by a -high road, and sat upon horseback by the hour together, with a spear -in his hand, challenging every body who passed to fight him, the -unsophisticated rustic would naturally conclude that the king's son -was mad, and would expect to hear of him next in Bedlam, rather than -on the throne of England. I let any one tell him previously of the -habits, manners, and customs of those days, and the rustic--though he -may very well believe that the whole age was mad--will understand and -appreciate the motives of the individual, saying to himself, "This man -was not a bit madder than the rest."</p> - -<p class="normal">However, this book is not intended to be a mere painting of the -customs of the fifteenth century, but rather a picture of certain -characters of that period, dressed somewhat in the garb of the times, -and moved by those springs of action which influenced men in the age -to which I refer. It has been said, and justly, that human nature is -the same in all ages; but as a musical instrument will produce many -different tones, according to the hand which touches it, so will human -nature present many different aspects, according to the influences by -which it is affected. At all events, I claim a right to play my own -tune upon my violin, and what skills it if that tune be an air of the -olden times. No one need listen who does not like it.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER II.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">There was a small, square room, of a very plain, -unostentatious -appearance, in the turret of a tall house in the city of Paris. The -walls were of hewn stone, without any decoration whatever, except -where at the four sides, and nearly in the centre of each, appeared a -long iron arm, or branch, with a socket at the end of it, curved and -twisted in a somewhat elaborate manner, and bearing some traces of -having been gilt in a former day. The ceiling was much more decorated -than the walls, and was formed by two groined arches of stone-work, -crossing each other in the middle, and thus forming, as it were, four -pointed arches, the intervals between one mass of stone-work and -another being filled up with dark-colored oak, much after the fashion -of a cap in a coronet. The spot where the arches crossed was -ornamented with a richly-carved pendant, or corbel, in the centre of -which was embedded a massive iron hook, probably intended to sustain a -large lamp, while the iron sockets protruding from the walls were -destined for flambeaux or lanterns. The floor was of stone, and a rude -mat of rushes was spread over about one eighth of the surface, toward -the middle of the room, where stood a table of no very large -dimensions, covered with a great pile of papers and a few manuscript -books. No lamp hung from the ceiling; no lantern or flambeau cast its -light from the walls as had undoubtedly been the case in earlier -times: the tall, quaint-shaped window, besides being encumbered by a -rich tracery of stone-work, could not admit even the moonbeams through -the thick coat of dust that covered its panes, and the only light -which that room received was afforded by a dull oil lamp upon the -table, without glass or shade. All the furniture looked dry and -withered, as it were, and though solid enough, being balkily formed of -dark oak, presented no ornament whatever. It was, in short, an -uncomfortable-looking apartment enough, having a ruinous and -dilapidated appearance, without any of the picturesqueness of decay. -Under the table lay a large, brindled, rough-haired dog, of the -stag-hound breed, but cruelly docked of his tail, in accordance with -some code of forest laws, which at that time were very numerous and -very various in different parts of France, but all equally unjust and -severe. Apparently he was sound asleep as dog could be; but we all -know that a dog's sleep is not as profound as a metaphysician's dream, -and from time to time he would raise his head a little from his -crossed paws, and look slightly up toward the legs of a person seated -at the table.</p> - -<p class="normal">Now those legs--to begin at the unusual end of a portrait--were -exceedingly handsome, well-shaped legs, indeed, evidently appertaining -to a young man on the flowery side of maturity. There was none of the -delicate, rather unsymmetrical straightness of the mere boy about -them, nor the over-stout, balustrade-like contour of the sturdy man of -middle age. Nor did the rest of the figure belie their promise, for it -was in all respects a good one, though somewhat lightly formed, except -the shoulders, indeed, which were broad and powerful, and the chest, -which was wide and expansive. The face was good, though not strictly -handsome, and the expression was frank and bright, yet with a certain -air of steady determination in it which is generally conferred by the -experience of more numerous years than seemed to have passed over that -young and unwrinkled brow.</p> - -<p class="normal">The dress of the young scribe--for he was writing busily--was in -itself plain, though not without evident traces of care and attention -in its device and adjustment. The shoes were extravagantly long, and -drawn out to a very acute point, and the gray sort of mantle, with -short sleeves, which he wore over his ordinary hose and jerkin, had, -at the collar, and at the end of those short sleeves, a little strip -of fur--a mark, possibly, of gentle birth, for sumptuary laws, always -ineffectual, were issued from time to time, during all the earlier -periods of the French monarchy, and generally broken as soon as -issued.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was no trace of beard upon the chin. The upper lip itself was -destitute of the manly mustache, and the hair, combed back from the -forehead, and lying in smooth and glossy curls upon the back of the -neck, gave an appearance almost feminine to the head, which was -beautifully set upon the shoulders. The broad chest already mentioned, -however, the long, sinewy arms, and the strong brown hand which held -the pen, forbade all suspicion that the young writer was a fair lady -in disguise, although that was a period in the world's history when -the dames of France were not overscrupulous in assuming any character -which might suit their purposes for the time.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a good deal of noise and bustle in the streets of Paris, as -men with flambeaux in their hands walked on before some great lord of -the court, calling "Place! place!" to clear the way for their master -as he passed; or as a merry party of citizens returned, laughing and -jesting, from some gay meeting; or as a group of night-ramblers walked -along, insulting the ear of night with cries, and often with -blasphemies; or as lays and songs were trolled up from the corners of -the streets by knots of persons, probably destitute of any other home, -assembled round the large bonfires, lighted to give warmth to the -shivering poor--for it was early in the winter of the great frost of -one thousand four hundred and seven, and the miseries of the land were -great. Still, the predominant sounds were those of joy and revelry; -for the people of Paris were the same in those days that they are even -now; and joy, festivity, and frolic, then, as in our own days, rolled -and caroled along the highways, while the dust was yet wet with blood, -and wretchedness, destitution, and oppression lurked unseen behind the -walls. No sounds, however, seemed to disturb the lad at his task, or -to withdraw his thoughts for one moment from the subject before him. -Now a loud peal of laughter shook the casement; but still he wrote on. -Now a cry, as if of pain, rang round the room from without, but such -cries were common in those days, and he lifted not his head. And then -again a plaintive song floated on the air, broken only by the striking -of a clock, jarring discordantly with the mellow notes of the air; but -still the pen hurried rapidly over the page, till some minutes after -the hour of nine had struck, when he laid it down with a deep -respiration, as if some allotted task were ended.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length the dog which was lying at his feet lifted his head suddenly -and gazed toward the door. The youth was reading over what he had -written, and caught no sound to withdraw his attention; but the beast -was right. There was a step--a familiar step--upon the stair-case, and -the good dog rose up, and walked toward the entrance of the room, just -as the door was opened, and another personage entered upon the scene.</p> - -<p class="normal">He was a grave man, of the middle age, tall, well formed, and of a -noble and commanding presence. He was dressed principally in black -velvet, with a gown of that stuff, which was lined with fur, indeed, -though none of that lining was shown externally. On his head he had a -small velvet cap, without any feather, and his hair was somewhat -sprinkled with gray, though in all probability he had not passed the -age of forty.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, Jean," he said, in a deliberate tone, as he entered the room -with a firm and quiet tread, "how many have you done, my son?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"All of them, sir," replied the young man. "I was just reading over -this last letter to Signor Bernardo Baldi, to see that I had made no -mistake."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You never mistake, Jean," said the elder man, in a kindly tone; and -then added, thoughtfully, "All? You must have written hard, and -diligently."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You told me to have them ready against you returned, sir," said the -youth.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, but I have returned an hour before the time," rejoined his elder -companion; and then, as the young man moved away from the chair which -he occupied, in order to leave it vacant for himself, the elder drew -near the table, and, still standing, glanced his eye over some six or -seven letters which lay freshly written, and yet unfolded. It was -evident, however, that though, by a process not uncommon, the mind -might take in, and even investigate, to a certain degree, all that the -eye rested upon, a large part of the thoughts were engaged with other -subjects, and that deeper interests divided the attention of the -reader.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There should be a comma there," he said, pointing with his finger, -and at the same time seating himself in the chair.</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man took the letter and added the comma; but when he looked -up, his companion's eyes were fixed upon the matting on the floor, and -it was apparent that the letters, and all they contained, had passed -away from his memory.</p> - -<p class="normal">The dog rose from the couchant attitude in which he had placed -himself, and laid his shaggy head upon the elder man's knee; and, -patting him quietly, the newcomer said, in a meditative tone, "It is -pleasant to have some one we can trust. Don't you think so, Jean?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is indeed, sir," replied the young man; "and pleasant to be -trusted."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And yet we must sometimes part with those we most trust," continued -the other. "It is sad, but sometimes it is necessary."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man's countenance fell a little, but he made no reply, and -the other, looking toward the wide fire-place, remarked, "You have let -the fire go out, Jean, and these are not days in which one can afford -to be without warmth."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man gathered the embers together, threw on some logs of -wood, and both he and his companion mused for several minutes without -speaking a word. At length the youth seemed to summon sudden courage, -and said, abruptly, "I hope you are not thinking of parting with me, -sir. I have endeavored to the utmost to do my duty toward you well, -and you have never had occasion to find fault; though perhaps your -kindness may have prevented you from doing so, even when there was -occasion."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not so, not so, my son," replied the other, warmly; "there has been -no fault, and consequently no blame. Nay more, I promised you, if you -fulfilled all the tasks I set you well, never to part with you but for -your own advantage. The time has come, however, when it is necessary -to part with you, and I must do so for your own sake."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a dead silence for a moment or two, and then the elder man -laid his finger quietly on the narrow strip of fur that bordered his -companion's dress, saying, with a slight smile, "You are of noble -blood, Jean, and I am a mere bourgeois."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can easily strip that off, if it offends you, sir," replied the -young man, giving him back his smile. "It is soon done away."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But not the noble blood, Jean," answered his companion; "and this -occupation is not fitted for you."</p> - -<p class="normal">An air of deep and anxious grief spread over the young man's face, and -he answered earnestly, "There is nothing derogatory in it, sir. To -write your letters, to transact any honorable business which you may -intrust to me, can not in any way degrade me, and you know right well -that it was from no base or ignoble motive that I undertook the task. -My mother's poverty is no stain upon our honorable blood, nor surely -can her son's efforts be so to change that poverty into competence."</p> - -<p class="normal">His companion smiled upon him kindly, saying, "Far from it, Jean; but -still, if there be an opportunity of your effecting your object in a -course more consonant with your birth and station, it is my duty as -your friend to seize it for you. Such an opportunity now presents -itself, and you must take advantage of it. It may turn out well; I -trust it will; but, should the reverse be the case--for in these -strange, unsettled times, those who stand the highest have most to -fear a fall--if the reverse should be the case, I say, you will always -find a resource in Jacques Cœur; his house, his purse, his -confidence will be always open to you. Put on your chaperon, then, and -come with me: for Fortune, like Time, should always be taken by the -forelock. The jade is sure to kick if we get behind her."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man took down one of the large hoods in which it was still -customary, for the bourgeoisie especially, to envelop their heads, -when walking in the streets of Paris. Beneath it, however, he placed a -small cap, fitting merely the crown of the head, and over the sort of -tunic he wore he cast a long mantle, for the weather was very cold. -When fully accoutered, he ventured to ask where Maître Cœur was -going to take him; but the good merchant answered with a smile, "Never -mind, my son, never mind. If we succeed as I expect, you will soon -know; if not, there is no need you should. Come with me, Jean, and -trust to me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Right willingly," replied the young man, and followed him.</p> - -<p class="normal">The house was a large and handsome house, as things went at that time -in Paris; but the stair-case was merely one of those narrow, twisting -spirals which we rarely see, except in cathedrals or ruined castles, -in the present times. Windows to that stair-case there were none, and -in the daytime the manifold steps received light only through a -loophole here and there; for in those days it was not at all -inconvenient for the owner, even of a very modest mansion, to have the -means of ascending and descending from one part of his house to the -other, without the danger of being struck by the arrows which were -flying somewhat too frequently in the streets of Paris. At night, a -lantern, guarded by plates of horn from the cold blasts through the -loopholes, shed a faint and twinkling ray, at intervals of ten or -twelve yards, upon the steps. But Jacques Cœur and his young -companion were both well acquainted with the way, and were soon at the -little door which opened into the court-yard. Jean Charost looked -round for the merchant's mule, as they issued forth; but no mule was -there, nor any attendant in waiting; and Jacques Cœur drawing his -cloak more tightly around him, walked straight out of the gates, and -along the narrow streets, unlighted by any thing but the pale stars -shining dimly in the wintery sky.</p> - -<p class="normal">The merchant walked fast, and Jean Charost followed a step behind: not -without some curiosity: not without some of that palpitating anxiety -which, with the young, generally precedes an unexpected change of -life, yet with a degree, at least, of external calmness which nothing -but very early discipline in the hard school of the world could give. -It seemed to him, indeed, that his companion intended to traverse the -whole city of Paris; for, directing his course toward the quarter of -St. Antoine, he paused not during some twenty minutes, except upon one -occasion, when, just as they were entering one of the principal -streets, half a dozen men, carrying torches, came rapidly along, -followed by two or three on horseback, and several on foot. Jacques -Cœur drew back into the shadow, and brought his cloak closer round -him; but the moment the cavalcade had passed he walked on again, -saying in a whisper, "That is the Marquis de Giac, a favorite of the -Duke of Burgundy--or, rather, the husband of the duke's favorite. He -owes me a thousand crowns, and, consequently, loves not to see me in -his way."</p> - -<p class="normal">Five minutes more brought them to a large stone wall, having two -towers, almost like those of a church, one at either end, and a great -gate with a wicket near the centre. Monasteries were more common than -bee-hives in Paris in those days, and Jean Charost would have taken no -notice of the wall, or of a large, dull-looking building rising up -behind it, had it not been that a tall man, clad apparently in a long -gray gown, rushed suddenly up to the gate, just as the two men were -passing, and rang the bell violently. He seemed to hold something -carefully on his left arm; but his air was wild and hurried, and -Jacques Cœur murmured, as they passed, "Alas, alas! 'Tis still the -same, all over the world."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost did not venture to ask the meaning of his comment, but -looked up and marked the building well, following still upon the -merchant's rapid steps; and a short distance further on the great -towers of the Bastile came in sight, looking over the lesser buildings -in the front.</p> - -<p class="normal">Before they reached the open space around the fortress, however, the -street expanded considerably, and at its widest point, appeared upon -the left a large and massive edifice, surrounded by walls of heavy -masonry, battlemented and machicolated, with four small, flanking -towers at the corners. In the centre of this wall, as in the case of -the monastery, was a large gateway; but the aspect of this entrance -was very different from that of the entrance to the religious -building. Here was an archway with battlements above, and windows in -the masonry looking out on the street. A parapetted gallery, too, of -stone-work, from which a porter or warden could speak with any one -applying for admission, without opening the gate, ran along just above -the arch.</p> - -<p class="normal">No great precaution, however, seemed to be in force at the moment of -Jacques Cœur's approach. The gate was open, though not unguarded; -for two men, partly armed, were lolling at the entrance, -notwithstanding the coldness of the night. Behind the massy chains, -too, which ran along the whole front line of the wall, solidly riveted -into strong stone posts, cutting off a path of about five feet in -width from the street, were eight or nine men and young lads, some -well armed, almost as if for war, and some dressed in gay and -glittering apparel of a softer texture. The night, as I have said, was -in sooth very cold; but yet the air before the building received some -artificial warmth from a long line of torches, blazing high in iron -sockets projecting from the walls, which looked grim and frowning in -the glare.</p> - -<p class="normal">At the gates Jacques Cœur stopped short, and let his mantle fall a -little, so as to show his face. One of the men under the arch stared -at him, and took a step forward, as if to inquire his business, but -the other nodded his head, saying, "Good evening, again, Maître -Jacques. Pass in. You will find Guillot at the door."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come, Jean," said Jacques Cœur, turning to his young companion; -and passing under the arch, they entered a small piece of ground laid -out apparently as a garden; for the light of some lanterns, scattered -here and there, showed a number of trees planted in even rows, in the -midst of which rose a palace of a much lighter and more graceful style -of architecture than the stern and heavy-looking defenses on the -street could have led any one to expect. A flight of steps led up from -the garden to a deep sort of open entrance-hall, where a light was -burning, showing a door of no very great size, surrounded with -innumerable delicate moldings of stone. To the door was fastened, by a -chain, a large, heavy iron ring, deeply notched all along the internal -circle, and by its side hung a small bar of steel, which, when run -rapidly over these notches, produced a loud sound, not altogether -unmusical. To this instrument of sound Jacques Cœur applied -himself, and the door was immediately opened from within.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come in, Maître Jacques," said a man of almost gigantic height. "Come -in; the duke is waiting for you in the little hall."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER III.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Passing through a small and narrow hall, Jacques Cœur and his -companion ascended a flight of six or seven steps, and then entered, -by a door larger than that which communicated with the garden, a -vestibule of very splendid proportions.</p> - -<p class="normal">It must be remembered that the arts were at that time just at the -period of their second birth in Europe; the famous fifteenth century -had just begun, and a true taste for the beautiful, in every thing -except architecture, was confined to the breasts of a few. Cimabue, -Giotto, Hubert van Eyk, and John of Bruges had already appeared; but -the days of Leonardo, of Raphael, of Michael Angelo, of Giorgione, and -of Correggio were still to come. Nevertheless, the taste for both -painting and sculpture was rapidly extending in all countries, and -especially in France, which, though it never produced a great man in -either branch of art, had always an admiration of that which is fine -when produced by others. It was with astonishment and delight, then, -that Jean Charost, who had never in his life before seen any thing -that deserved the name of a painting, except a fresco here and there, -and the miniature illuminations of missals and psalm books, beheld the -vestibule surrounded on every side with pictures which appeared to him -perfection itself, and which probably would have even presented to our -eyes many points of excellence, unattained or unattainable by our own -contemporaries. Though the apartment was well lighted, he had no time -to examine the treasures it contained; for Jacques Cœur, more -accustomed to such scenes himself, and with his mind fully occupied by -other thoughts, hurried straight across to a wide, two-winged -stair-case of black oak, at the further end of the vestibule, and -ascended the steps at a rapid rate.</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man followed through a long corridor, plainly furnished, -till his guide stopped and knocked at a door on the right hand side. A -voice from within exclaimed, "Come in;" and when Jacques Cœur -opened the door, Jean Charost found himself at the entrance of a room -and in the presence of a person requiring some description.</p> - -<p class="normal">The little hall, as it was called, was a large vaulted chamber about -forty feet in length, and probably twenty-six or twenty-eight in -width. It was entirely lined with dark-colored wood, and the pointed -arch of the roof, really or apparently supported by highly ornamented -wood-work, was of the same material. All along the walls, however, -upheld by rings depending from long arms of silver, were wide sheets -of tapestry, of an ancient date, but full of still brilliant colors; -and projecting from between these, at about six feet from the ground, -were a number of other silver brackets supporting sconces of the same -metal. Large straight-backed benches were arranged along the walls, -touching the tapestry; but there was only one table in the room, on -which stood a large candelabra of two lights, each supporting a wax -taper or candle, not much inferior in size to those set upon the altar -by Roman Catholics, and by those who repudiate the name, but follow -the practices, of Rome--the mongrel breed, who have not the courage to -confess themselves converted, yet have turned tail upon their former -faith, and the faith of their ancestors.</p> - -<p class="normal">At this table was seated, with paper, and pen, and ink before him--not -unemployed even at that moment--a man of the middle age, of a very -striking and interesting appearance. As none of the sconces were -lighted, and the candelabra before him afforded the only light which -the room received, he sat in the midst of a bright spot, surrounded -almost by darkness, and, though Heaven knows, no saint, looking like -the picture of a saint in glory. His face and figure might well have -afforded a subject for the pencil; for not only was he handsome in -feature and in form, but there was an indescribable charm of -expression about his countenance, and a marvelous grace in his -person which characterized both, even when in profound repose. We are -too apt to confine the idea of grace to action. Witness a sleeping -child--witness the Venus de Medici--witness the Sappho of Dannecker. -At all other times it is evanescent, shifting, and changing, like the -streamers of the Aurora Borealis. But in calm stillness, thought can -dwell upon it; the mind can take it in, read it, and ponder upon its -innate meaning, as upon the page of some ever-living book, and not -upon the mere hasty word spoken by some passing stranger.</p> - -<p class="normal">He was writing busily, and had apparently uttered the words, "Come -in," without ever looking up; but the moment after Jacques Cœur and -his young companion had entered, the prince--for he could be nothing -else but a prince, let republicans say what they will--lifted his -speaking eyes and looked forward.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, my friend," he said, seeing the great merchant; "come hither. I -have been anxiously waiting for you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jacques Cœur advanced to within a few paces, while the other still -kept his seat, and Jean Charost followed a step or two behind.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, what news do you bring me?" asked the prince, lowering his tone -a little; "good, I hope. Come, say you have changed your resolution! -Why should a merchant's resolutions be made of sterner stuff than a -woman's, or the moon's, or man's, or any other of the light things -that inhabit this earth, or whirl around it? Faith, my good friend, -the most beneficent of things are always changing. If the Sun himself -stuck obstinately to one point, we should be scorched by summer heat, -and blinded by too much light. But come, come; to speak seriously, -this is absolutely needful to me--you are a friend--a good friend--a -well-wisher to your country and myself. Say you have changed your -mind."</p> - -<p class="normal">All this time he had continued seated, while Jacques Cœur, without -losing any of that dignity of carriage which distinguished him, stood -near, with his velvet cap in his hand, and with an air of respect and -deference. "I have told your highness," he replied, bowing his head -reverently, "that I can not do it--that it is impossible."</p> - -<p class="normal">The other started up from the table with some impetuosity. -"Impossible?" he exclaimed. "What, would you have me believe that you, -reputed the most wealthy merchant of all these realms, can not -yourself, or among your friends, raise the small sum I require in a -moment of great need? No, no. Say rather that your love for Louis of -Orleans has grown cold, or that you doubt his power of repaying -you--that you think fortune is against him--that you believe there is -a destiny that domineers over his. But say not that it is impossible."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord duke, I repeat," replied Jacques Cœur, in a tone which had -a touch of sorrow in it, "I repeat, that it is impossible; not that my -affection for your service has grown cold--not that I believe the -destiny of any one in these realms can domineer over that of the -brother of my king--not that I have not the money, or could not obtain -it in Paris in an hour. Nay, more, I will own I have it, as by your -somewhat unkind words, mighty prince, you drive me to tell you how it -is impossible. I would have fain kept my reasons in respectful -silence; but perhaps, after all, those reasons may be better to you -than my gold."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Odd's life, but not so substantial," replied the Duke of Orleans, -with a smile, seating himself again, and adding, "speak on, speak on; -for if we can not have one good thing, it is well to have another; and -I know your reasons are always excellent, Maître Jacques."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Suppose, my lord," replied Jacques Cœur, "that this wealth of mine -is bound up in iron chests, with locks of double proof, and I have -lost the key."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Heaven's queen, send for a blacksmith, and dash the chests to -pieces," said the Duke of Orleans, with a laugh.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Such, perhaps, is the way his highness of Burgundy would deal with -them," replied Jacques Cœur. "But you, sir, think differently, I -believe. But let me explain to you that the chests--these iron chests, -are conscience--the locks, faith and loyalty--the only key that can -open them, conviction. But to leave all allegories, my lord duke, I -tell your highness frankly, that did you ask this sum for your own -private need, my love and affection to your person would bid me throw -my fortune wide before you, and say, 'Take what you will.' But when -you tell me, and I know that your object is, with this same wealth of -mine, to levy war in this kingdom, and tear the land with the strife -of faction, I tell you I have not the key, and say it is impossible. I -say it is impossible for me, with my convictions, to let you have this -money for such purposes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now look you here," cried the Duke of Orleans; "how these good men -will judge of matters that they know not, and deal with things beyond -their competence! Here, my good friend, you erect yourself into a -judge of my plans, my purposes, and their results--at once testify -against me, and pronounce the judgment."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, my good lord, not so," replied Jacques Cœur. "You ask me to -do a thing depending on myself; and many a man would call various -considerations to counsel before he said yea or nay; would ask himself -whether it was convenient, whether there was a likelihood of gain, -whether there was a likelihood of loss, whether he affected your side -or that of Burgundy. Now, so help me Heaven, as not one of these -considerations weighs with me for a moment. I have asked myself but -one question: 'Is this for the good of my country? Is it for the -service of my king?' Your highness laughs, but it is true; and the -answer has been 'No.'"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Jacques Cœur, thou art a good and honest man," replied the duke, -laying his hand upon the merchant's sleeve, and looking in his face -gravely; "but you drive me to give you explanations, which I think, as -my friend and favorer, you might have spared. The spendthrift gives -such explanations, summons plausible excuses, and tells a canting tale -of how he came in such a strait, when he goes to borrow money of a -usurer; but methinks such things should have no place between Louis of -Orleans, the king's only brother, and his friend Jacques Cœur."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, noble prince," cried the merchant, very much touched. But the -duke did not attend to his words; and, rising from his seat, threw -back his fine and stately head, saying, "The explanation shall be -given, however. I seek not one denier of this money for myself. My -revenues are ample, more than ample for my wishes. My court is a very -humble one, compared with that of Burgundy. But I seek this sum to -enable me to avert dangers from France, which I see coming up -speedily, like storms upon the wind. I need not tell you, Jacques -Cœur, my brother's unhappy state, nor how he, who has ever -possessed and merited the love of all his subjects, is, with rare -intervals, unconscious of his kingly duties. The hand of God takes -from him, during the greater part of life, the power of wielding the -sceptre which it placed within his grasp."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know it well, your highness," replied the merchant.</p> - -<p class="normal">"His children are all young, Jacques Cœur," continued the duke; -"and there are but two persons sufficiently near in blood, and eminent -in station, to exercise the authority in the land which slips from the -grasp of the monarch--the Duke of Burgundy and the Duke of Orleans. -The one, though a peer of France and prince of its blood royal, holds -possessions which render him in some sorts a foreigner. Now God forbid -that I should speak ill of my noble cousin of Burgundy; but he is a -man of mighty power, and not without ambition--honorable, doubtless, -but still high-handed and grasping. Burgundy and Flanders, with many a -fair estate and territory besides, make up an almost kingly state, and -I would ask you yourself if he does not well-nigh rule in France -likewise. Hear me out, hear me out! You would say that he has a right -to some influence here, and so he has. But I would have this -<i>well-nigh</i>, not <i>quite</i>. I pledge you my word that my sole object is -to raise up such a power as to awe my good cousin from too great and -too dangerous enterprises. Were it a question of mere right--whose is -the right to authority here, till the king's children are of an age to -act, but the king's brother? Were it a question of policy--in whom -should the people rely but in him whose whole interests are identified -with this monarchy? Were it a question of judgment--who is so likely -to protect, befriend, and direct aright the children of the king as -the uncle who has fostered their youth, and loved them even as his -own? There is not a man in all France who suspects me of wishing aught -but their good. I fear not the Duke of Burgundy so much as to seek to -banish him from all power and authority in the realm; but I only -desire that his authority should have a counterpoise, in order that -his power may never become dangerous. And now tell me, Jacques -Cœur, whether my objects are such as you can honestly refuse to -aid, remembering that I have used every effort, in a peaceful way, to -induce my cousin of Burgundy to content himself with a lawful and -harmless share of influence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord, I stand rebuked," replied Jacques Cœur. "But, if your -highness would permit me, I would numbly suggest that efforts might -strike others, to bring about the happy object you propose, which may -have escaped your attention."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Name them--name them," cried the Duke of Orleans, somewhat warmly. -"By heaven's queen, I think I have adopted all that could be devised -by mortal man. Name them, my good friend," he added, in a milder tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, royal sir," replied Jacques Cœur," it is not for one so -humble as myself to suggest any remedies in such a serious case; but I -doubt not your relatives, the Dukes of Alençon and Berri, and the good -King of Sicily, so near and dear to you, might, in their wisdom, aid -you with advice which would hold your honor secure, promote the -pacification of the realm, and attain the great object that you have -in view."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Duke of Orleans made no reply, but walked once or twice up and -down the hall, with his arms folded on his chest, apparently in deep -thought. At length, however, he stopped before Jacques Cœur, and -laid his finger on his breast, saying, in a grave and inquiring tone, -"What would men think of me, my friend, if Louis of Orleans, in a -private quarrel with John of Burgundy, were to call in the soft -counsels of Alençon, of Berri, and Anjou? Would not men say that he -was afraid?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The slightest possible smile quivered for an instant on the lips of -Jacques Cœur, but he replied, gravely and respectfully, "First, I -would remark, your highness, that this is not a private quarrel, as I -understand it, but a cause solely affecting the good of the realm."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Duke of Orleans smiled also, with a gay, conscious, half-detected -smile; but Jacques Cœur proceeded uninterrupted, saying, "Secondly, -I should boldly answer that men would dare say nothing. The prince who -boldly bearded Henry the Fourth of Lancaster on his usurped throne, to -do battle hand to hand, in the hour of his utmost triumph and -success,<a name="div4Ref_01" href="#div4_01"><sup>[1]</sup></a> could never be -supposed afraid of any mortal man. Believe -me, my lord, the thought of fear has never been, and never can be -joined with the name of Louis of Orleans."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, Jacques Cœur, Jacques Cœur," replied the prince, laughing, -"art thou a flatterer too?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"If so, an honest one," answered the merchant; "and, without daring to -dictate terms to your highness, let me add that, should you--thinking -better of this case--employ the counsels of the noble princes I have -mentioned, and their efforts prove unsuccessful, then, convinced that -the last means for peace have been tried and failed, I shall find my -duty and my wishes reconciled, and the last livre that I have, should -I beg my bread in the streets as a common mendicant, will be freely -offered in your just cause."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a warmth, a truth, a sincerity in the great merchant's words -that seemed to touch his noble auditor deeply. The duke threw himself -into his seat again, and covered his eyes for a moment or two; then, -taking Jacques Cœur's hand, he pressed it warmly, saying, "Thanks, -my friend, thanks. I have urged you somewhat hardly, perhaps, but I -know you wish me well. I believe your advice is good. Pride, vanity, -whatever it is, shall be sacrificed. I will send for my noble cousins, -consult with them, and, if the bloody and disastrous arbitrement of -war can be avoided, it shall be so. Many may bless the man who stayed -it; and although, in their ignorance, they may not add the name of -Jacques Cœur to their prayers, there is a Being who has seen you -step between princes and their wrath, and who himself has said, -'Blessed are the peacemakers.'"</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke then leaned his head upon his hand, and fell into thought -again.</p> - -<p class="normal">All this time, while a somewhat long and interesting conversation had -been taking place in his presence, Jean Charost had been standing a -few steps behind Jacques Cœur, without moving a limb; and, in -truth, so deeply attentive to all that was passing, that he hardly -ventured to draw a breath. The whole scene was a lesson to him, -however; a lesson never forgot. He saw the condescension and kindness, -the familiar friendship which the brother of the King of France -displayed toward the simple merchant; but he saw, also, that no -familiarity induced Jacques Cœur for one moment to forget respect, -or to abate one tittle of the reverence due to the duke's station. He -saw that it was possible to be bold and firm, even with a royal -personage, and yet to give him no cause of offense, if he were in -heart as noble as in name. Both the principal personages in the room, -however, in the mighty interests involved in their discourse, seemed -to have forgotten his presence altogether; indeed, one of them, -probably, had hardly even perceived him. But at length the duke, -waking up, as it were, from the thoughts which had absorbed him, with -his resolution taken and his course laid out, raised his eyes toward -Jacques Cœur, as if intending to continue the conversation with -some further announcement of his purposes. As he did so, he seemed -suddenly to perceive the figure of Jean Charost, standing in the half -light behind, and he exclaimed, quickly and eagerly, "Ha! who is that? -Who is that young man? Whence came he? What wants he?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Jacques Cœur started too; for he had totally forgotten the fact of -his having brought Jean Charost there. For an instant he looked -confused and agitated, but then recovered himself, and replied, "This -is the young gentleman whom I commended to your highness's service. In -the importance of the question you first put to me, I totally forgot -to present him to you."</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke gazed in the face of Jean Charost as he advanced a step or -two into the light, seeming to question his countenance closely, and -for a moment there was a slight look of annoyance and anxiety in his -aspect which did not escape the eyes of Jacques Cœur.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Sir, I have committed a great fault," he said; "but it might have -been greater; for, although this young gentleman has heard all that we -have said, I will answer for his faith, his honesty, and his -discretion with my life."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ere the words were uttered, however, the Duke of Orleans had recovered -himself entirely, and looking up frankly in Jacques Cœur's face, he -answered, "As far as I can recollect our conversation, my good friend, -it contained not one word which either you or I should fear to have -blazoned to the whole realm of France. Come hither, young gentleman. -Are you willing to serve me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"If not willing before, sir," answered Jean Charost, "what I have -heard to-night would make me willing to shed the last drop of my blood -for your highness."</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke smiled upon him kindly. "Good," he said; "good. You are of -noble race, my friend tells me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"On all sides," answered Jean Charost. "Of the nobility of the sword."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then," said the duke, "we will soon find an office for you. Let -me think for a moment--"</p> - -<p class="normal">But, ere the words had left his lips, there was a sharp rap at the -door, and, without waiting for permission, a man, dressed as a -superior servant, hurried in, followed by an elderly woman in an -extravagantly high <i>hennin</i>--a head-dress of the times--both bearing -eagerness and alarm on their countenance.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am sorry to tell your highness--" cried the man.</p> - -<p class="normal">But the duke stopped him, exclaiming, "Hush!" with a look of anxiety -and alarm, and then advanced a step or two toward the newcomers, with -whom he spoke for a few moments in an eager whisper. He then took -several rapid strides toward the door, but paused ere he reached it, -and looking back, almost without stopping, exclaimed, "To-morrow, my -young friend; be with me to-morrow by nine. I will send for you in the -evening, Maître Jacques. I trust then to have news for you. Excuse me -now; something has happened."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER IV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">For a moment after the Duke of Orleans had quitted the hall, -Jacques -Cœur and his young companion stood looking at each other in -silence; for the agitation which the prince had displayed was far -greater than persons in his rank usually suffered to appear. Those -were the days when strong passions lay concealed under calm exteriors, -and terrible deeds were often meditated and even executed under cover -of the most tranquil aspect.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come, Jean, my friend." said the merchant, at length; "let us go. We -must not pause here with these papers on the table."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, he walked toward the door; but, before he quitted the -house, he sought diligently in the outer vestibule and the neighboring -rooms for some of the domestics. All seemed to be in confusion, -however, and though steps were heard moving about in various -directions, as if some general search were being made, several minutes -elapsed before even a page or a porter could be found. At length a boy -of about twelve years of age presented himself, and him Jacques -Cœur directed, in a tone of authority, to place himself at the door -of the little hall, and neither to go in himself nor let any one enter -till he had an opportunity of letting the duke know that he had left -the papers he was writing on the table.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Something has moved his highness very greatly," said Jacques Cœur, -as he walked through the streets with his young companion. "He is not -usually so careless of what he writes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have always heard him called the gay Duke of Orleans," said Jean -Charost, "and I certainly was surprised to find him so grave and -thoughtful."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There are many ways of being thoughtful, my young friend," replied -the merchant, "and a light and smiling air, a playful fancy, and a -happy choice of words, with many persons--as has been the case with -the duke--conceal deep meaning and great strength of mind. He is, -indeed, one of the most thoughtful men in France. But his imagination -is somewhat too strong, and his passions, alas, stronger still. He is -frank, and noble, and generous, however--kind and forgiving; and I do -sincerely believe that he deeply regrets his faults, and condemns them -as much as any man in France. Many are the resolutions of reformation -that he makes; but still an ardent temperament, a light humor, and a -joyous spirit carries him away impulsively, and deeds are done, before -he well knows they are undertaken, which are bitterly repented -afterward."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jacques Cœur paused, and seemed to hesitate, as if he thought he -had almost gone too far with his young companion; but there were more -serious considerations pressing upon his mind at that moment than Jean -Charost, or even the Duke of Orleans, at all comprehended, though both -were affected by them. He was one of the most remarkable men of his -age; and although he had not at that time risen to the high point of -either honor or wealth which he afterward attained, he was in the high -road to distinction and to fortune--a road opened to him by no common -means. His vast and comprehensive mind perceived opportunities which -escaped the eyes of men more limited in intellect; his energetic and -persevering character enabled him to grasp and hold them; and, -together with these powers, so serviceable to any man in commercial or -political life, he possessed a still higher characteristic--a kindly -and a generous spirit, prompting to good deeds as well as to great -ones, always under the guidance of prudence and wisdom. He had, -moreover, that which I know not whether to call an art or a -quality--the capability of impressing almost all men with the truth of -his character. Few with whom he was brought in any close connection -doubted his judgment or his sincerity, and his true beneficence of -heart had the power of attaching others to him so strongly that even -persecution, sorrow, and misfortune could not break the bond.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the present instance, he had two objects in view in placing Jean -Charost in the service of the Duke of Orleans; or, rather, he saw at -once that two objects might possibly be attained by that kind act. He -had provided, apparently, well and happily for a youth to whom he was -sincerely attached, and whom he could entirely trust, and he placed -near a prince for whom he had a great regard and some admiration, -notwithstanding all his faults, one whose character was likely to be -not without its influence, even upon a person far higher in station -and more brilliant as well as more experienced than himself.</p> - -<p class="normal">Although he had full confidence in Jean Charost--although he knew that -there was an integrity of purpose, and a vigor of determination in the -youth, well fitted to stand all trials, he nevertheless thought that -some warning, some knowledge, at least of the circumstances in which -he was about to be placed, might be serviceable to himself, and give a -beneficial direction to any influence he might obtain with the duke. -To give this, was his object in turning the conversation at once to -the character of Louis of Orleans; but yet the natural delicacy of his -mind led him to hesitate, when touching upon the failings of his -princely friend. The higher purpose, however, predominated at length, -and he went boldly forward.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is necessary, Jean," he said, "to prepare you in some degree for -the scenes in which you will have to mingle, and especially to afford -you some information of the character of the prince you are about to -serve. I will mention no names, as there are people passing in the -street; but you will understand of whom I speak. He is habitually -licentious. The courts of kings are very generally depraved; and -impressions received in early life, however reason and religion may -fight against them at after periods, still leave a weak and assailable -point in the character not easily strengthened for resistance. Man's -heart is as a fortress, my young friend; a breach effected in the -walls of which is rarely, if ever, repaired with as much firmness as -at first. I do not wish to palliate his errors, for they are very -great, but merely to explain my anxiety to have good counsels near -him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is very necessary, indeed, sir," replied Jean Charost, simply, -never dreaming that his counsels could be those to which Jacques -Cœur alluded. "I have heard a good deal of the duke since we have -been here in Paris, and although all must love and admire his great -and noble qualities, yet it is sad to hear the tales men tell of him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Age and experience," replied Jacques Cœur, "may have some effect; -nay, are already having an effect in rendering good resolutions -firmer, and the yielding to temptation less frequent. It is only -required now that some person having influence over him, and -constantly near him, should throw that influence into the scale of -right. I know not, my dear lad, whether you may or may not obtain -influence with him. He has promised me to treat you with all favor, -and to keep you as near his person as possible, and I feel quite sure -that if any opportunities occur of throwing in a word in favor of -virtue and good conduct, or of opposing vice and licentiousness, you -will not fail to seize it. I do not mean to instigate you to meddle in -the affairs of this prince, or to intrude counsels upon him. To do so -would be impertinent and wrong in one of your position; but he himself -may furnish opportunity. Consult you he will not; but converse with -you often, he probably will; and it is quite possible in a calm, -quiet, unobtrusive course, to set good counsel before him, without -appearing to advise, or pretending to meddle."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I should fear," replied Jean Charost, "that he would converse very -little with a boy like me, certainly not attend much to my opinions."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That will greatly depend upon the station you obtain in his -household," replied Jacques Cœur. "If you are very much near his -person, I doubt not that he will. Those who give way to their passion, -Jean, and plunge into a sea of intrigue, are often in situations of -difficulty and anxiety, where they can find no counsel in their own -breasts, no comfort in their own hearts. It is then that they will fly -to any one who may happen to be near for help and resource. I only say -such things may happen, not that they will; but if they do, I trust to -you, Jean Charost, to use them to good purpose."</p> - -<p class="normal">The conversation proceeded much in the same tone till they reached the -lodging of the merchant, and ascended once more to the small chamber -in which Jean Charost had been writing. By this time, according to the -notions of Jacques Cœur, it was too late for any one to be out of -bed, and he and his young companion separated for the night. On the -following morning, however, when Jean descended to the counting-room, -or office, at an early hour, he found Jacques Cœur already there, -and one or two of his servants with him. He heard orders given about -horses, and equipments of various kinds, before the great merchant -seemed aware of his presence. But when the servants were all -dispatched upon their various errands, Jacques turned and greeted him -kindly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let us talk of a little business, my son," he said; "for in an hour's -time we shall have to part on our several ways; you to the Hôtel -d'Orleans, I back again to Bourges; for I am weary of this great city, -Jean, and besides, business calls me hence. Now let us, like good -merchants, reckon what it is I am in your debt."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, sir," answered Jean Charost, "it is I that am altogether in -yours; I do not mean alone for kindness, but even in mere money. I -have received more from you, I believe, than you promised to give me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"More than the mere stipend, Jean," replied Jacques Cœur; "but not -more than what was implied. I promised your mother, excellent lady, -God bless her, that I would give you a hundred crowns of the sun by -the year, and, moreover, whatever I found your assistance was worth to -me besides. I deal with it merely as a matter of account, Jean; and I -find that by the transactions with Genoa, partly carried on by -yourself in the last year, I have made a profit of sixteen per cent, -on invested money; on the business of Amalfi, transacted altogether by -yourself nineteen per cent.; on other business of a similar kind, with -which I and my ordinary clerks have had to do alone, an average of -fifteen per cent. Thus, in all affairs that you have dealt with, there -has been a gain over ordinary gains of somewhere between three and -four per cent. Now this surplus is to be divided between you and me, -according to my view of the case. I have looked into it closely, to do -justice to both, and I find that, as the transactions of this year -have been somewhat large, I am a debtor to you a sum of two thousand -seven hundred and forty-three crowns, two livres Parisis, and one -denier. There is a note of the account; I think you will find it -correct."</p> - -<p class="normal">Poor Jean Charost was astonished and overcome. The small patrimony of -his father--just sufficient to maintain a man of gentle blood within -that narrow limit thronged with petty cares, usually called moderate -competence--a sort of myth, embellished by the poets--a kind of -economical Arcadia, in which that perfect happiness represented, -is as often found as the Arcadian shepherds and shepherdesses in -plum-colored velvet coats and pink ribbons are found in the real -pastoral--this small estate, I say, had been hypothecated to the -amount of three thousand crowns, to enable his father to serve and die -for his sovereign on the battle-field; and the great first object of -Jean Charost's ambition had been to enable his poor mother to pay off -a debt which, with its interest, was eating into the core of the -estate. Hitherto the prospect of success had seemed far, far away; he -had thought he could see it in the distance; but he had doubted, and -feared, and the long journey to travel had seemed to dim even the -sunrise of hope. But now the case was reversed; the prospect seemed -near, the object well-nigh attained, and for an instant or two he -could hardly believe his ears.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, sir," he exclaimed, after some murmured thanks, "take it to my -mother--take it all to my mother. It will make her heart leap for joy. -I shall want no money where I am going."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jacques Cœur gazed at him with the faint, rueful smile of age -listening to inexperience. "You will need more than you know, my good -youth," he answered. "Courts are very different places from merchant's -houses; and if great openings are there found, there are openings of -the purse likewise. But I know your object, my dear boy. It is a -worthy one, and you can gratify it to a certain extent, while you yet -retain the means of appearing as you should in the household of the -Duke of Orleans. I will take two thousand crowns to your mother. Then -only a thousand will remain to be paid upon the mortgage, which I will -discharge; and you shall repay me when your economy and your success, -in both of which I have great confidence, shall make it light for you -to do so."</p> - -<p class="normal">Such was the kindly plan proposed by the merchant, and Jean Charost -acceded joyfully. It must not be denied that to be in possession of -seven hundred crowns seemed, in his young and untaught eyes, to put -him among the wealthy of the land. It must not be denied, either, that -the thought rose up of many things he wanted, of which he had never -much felt the want before. Among the rest, a horse seemed perfectly -indispensable but the kindness of Jacques Cœur had beforehand -deprived him of all excuse for this not unreasonable expense. He found -that a fine horse, taken in payment of a debt from Spain, with bridle -and housings all complete, had been destined for his use by the great -merchant; and certainly well mounted, and, as he thought, well -equipped with all things, Jean Charost set out for the Hôtel -d'Orleans, at about half past eight o'clock, carrying a message from -Jacques Cœur to the duke, to account for and excuse the sudden -departure of the merchant.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER V.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">To retrace one's steps is always difficult; and it may be as -well, -whenever the urgency of action will permit it, in life, as in a tale -that is told, to pause a little upon the present, and not to hurry on -too rapidly to the future, lest the stern Irrevocable follow us too -closely. I know nothing more difficult, or more necessary to impress -upon the mind of youth, than the great and important fact, that every -thing, once done, is irrevocable; that Fate sets its seal upon the -deed and upon the word; that it is a bond to good or evil; that though -sometimes we may alter the conditions in a degree, the weightier -obligations of that bond can never be changed; that there is something -recorded in the great Book against us, a balance for, or adverse to -us, which speeds us lightly onward, or hampers all our after efforts.</p> - -<p class="normal">No, no. There is no going back. As in the fairy tale, the forest -closes up behind us as we pass through, and in the great adventure of -life our only way is forward.</p> - -<p class="normal">Life, in some of its phases, should always be the model of a book, and -to avoid the necessity of even trying to go far back, it may be as -well to pause here, and tell some events which had occurred even -within the space of time which our tale has already occupied.</p> - -<p class="normal">In a chamber, furnished with fantastic splendor, and in a house not -far from the palace of the Duke of Orleans, stood a richly-decorated -bed. It was none of those scanty, parsimonious, modern contrivances, -in which space to turn seems grudged to the unhappy inmate, but a -large, stately, elaborate structure, almost a room in itself. The four -posts, at the four corners, were carved, and gilt, and ornamented with -ivory and gold. Groups of cupids, or cherubim, I know not well which, -supported the pillars, treading gayly upon flowers; and, as people -were not very considerate of harmony in those days, the sculptor of -this bed, for so I suppose we must call him, had added Corinthian -capitals to the posts, and crowned the acanthus of dark wood with -large plumes of real ostrich feathers. Round the valance, and on many -parts of the draperies, which were of a light crimson velvet, appeared -numerous inscriptions, embroidered in gold. Some were lines from poets -of the day, or old romances of the Langue d'oc, or Langue d'oil, -while, strange to say, others were verses from the Psalms of David.</p> - -<p class="normal">On this bed lay a lady sweetly asleep, beautiful but pale, and bearing -traces of recent illness on her face; and beside her lay a babe which -seemed ten days or a fortnight old, swathed up according to the -abominable custom of the day, in what was then called <i>en mailotin</i>. A -lamp was on a table near, a vacant chair by the bedside, from which a -heedless nurse had just escaped to take a little recreation during her -lady's slumbers. All was still and silent in the room and throughout -the house. The long and narrow corridors were vacant; the lower hall -was far off. The silver bell, which was placed nigh at hand, might -have rang long and loud without calling any one to that bedside; but -the nurse trusted to the first calm slumber of the night, and -doubtless promised herself that her absence would not be long. It -proved long enough--somewhat too long, however.</p> - -<p class="normal">The door opened almost without a sound, and a tall, gray figure -entered, which could hardly have been seen from the bed, in the -twilight obscurity of that side of the room, even had any eyes been -open there. It advanced stealthily to the side of the bed, with the -right hand hidden in the breast; but there, for a moment, whatever was -the intent, the figure paused, and the eyes gazed down upon the -sleeping woman and the babe by her side. Oh, what changes of -expression came, driven like storm-clouds, over that countenance, by -some tempest of passions within, and what a contrast did the man's -face present to that of the sleeping girl. It might be that the -wronger and the wronged were there in presence, and that calm, -peaceful sleep reigned quietly, where remorse, and anguish, and -repentance should have held their sway; while agony, and rage, and -revenge were busy in the heart which had done no evil.</p> - -<p class="normal">Whether it was doubt, or hesitation, or a feeling of pity which -produced the pause, I can not tell; but whatever was the man's -purpose--and it could hardly be good--he stopped, and gazed for more -than one minute ere he made the intent a deed. At length, however, he -withdrew the right hand from his bosom, and something gleamed in the -lamp-light.</p> - -<p class="normal">It is strange: the lady moved a little in her sleep, as if the gleam -of the iron had made itself felt, and she murmured a name. Her hand -and arm were cast carelessly over the bed-clothes; her left side and -breast exposed. The name she murmured seemed to act like a command; -for instantly one hand was pressed upon her lips, and the other struck -violently her side. The cry was smothered; the hands clutched the air -in vain: a slight convulsive effort to rise, an aguish shudder, and -all was still.</p> - -<p class="normal">The assassin withdrew his hand, but left the dagger in the wound. Oh, -with what bitter skill he had done the deed! The steel had pierced -through and through her heart!</p> - -<p class="normal">There he stood for a moment, and contemplated his handiwork. What was -in his breast--who can tell? But suddenly he seemed to start from his -dark revery, took the hand he had made lifeless in his own, and -withdrew a wedding ring from the unresisting finger.</p> - -<p class="normal">Though passion is fond of soliloquy, he uttered but few words. "Now -let him come and look," he murmured; and then going rapidly round to -the other side of the bed, he snatched up the infant, cast part of his -robe around it, and departed.</p> - -<p class="normal">Oh, what an awful, dreadful thing was the stillness which reigned in -that terrible chamber after the murderer was gone. It seemed as if -there were something more than silence there--a thick dull, motionless -air of death and guilt. It lasted a long while--more than half an -hour; and then, walking on tip-toe, came back the nurse. For a moment -or two she did not perceive that any thing had happened. All was so -quiet, so much as she had left it, that she fancied no change had -taken place. She moved about stealthily, arranged some silver cups and -tankards upon a <i>dressoir</i>, and smoothed out the damask covering with -its fringe of lace.</p> - -<p class="normal">Presently there was a light tap at the door, and going thither on -tip-toe, she found one of the Duke of Orleans's chief servants come to -inquire after the lady's health.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hush!" said the nurse, lifting up her finger, "she is sleeping like -an angel."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And the baby?" asked the man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"She is asleep too," replied the nurse; "she has not given a cry for -an hour."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That's strange!" said the man. "I thought babies cried every five -minutes."</p> - -<p class="normal">Upon second thoughts, the nurse judged it strange too; and a certain -sort of cold dread came upon her as she remembered her long absence, -and combined it with the perfect stillness.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay a moment: I'll just take a peep and tell you more;" and she -advanced noiselessly to the side of the bed. The moment she gazed in, -she uttered a fearful shriek. Nature was too strong for art or policy. -There lay the mother dead; the infant gone; and she screamed aloud, -though she knew that the whole must be told, and her own negligence -exposed.</p> - -<p class="normal">The man darted in from the door, and rushed to the side of the bed. -The bloody evidences of the deed which had been done were plain before -him, and catching the nurse by the arm, he questioned her vehemently.</p> - -<p class="normal">She was a friend of his, however--indeed, I believe, a relation--and -first came a confession, and then a consultation. She declared she had -not been absent five minutes, and that the deed must have been done -within that short time; that somebody must have been concealed in the -room at the time she left, for she had been so close at hand that she -must have seen any one pass. She went on to declare that she believed -it must have been done by sorcery; and as sorcery was in great repute -at that time, the man might have been of her opinion, if the gore and -the wound had not plainly shown a mortal agency.</p> - -<p class="normal">Then came the question of what was to be done. The duke must be -told--that was clear; and it was agreed by both the man and the woman -that it would be better for them to bear their own tale.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do not let us tell him all at once," said the good lady, for horror -and grief had by this time been swallowed up in more personal -considerations; "he would kill us both on the spot, I do believe. Tell -him, at first, that she is very ill; then, when he is going to see -her, that she is dying; then that she is dead. And then--and then--let -him find out himself that she has been murdered. Good gracious! I -should not wonder if the murderer was still in the room. Did you not -think you saw the curtain move?" and she gave a fearful glance toward -the bed.</p> - -<p class="normal">The man unsheathed his sword, and for the first time they searched the -room, which they had never thought of before.</p> - -<p class="normal">Nothing, however, could be found--not a vestige of the murderer--the -very dagger that had done the deed was now gone; and after some -further consultation, and some expressions of horror and regret, they -set out to bear the intelligence to the Duke of Orleans, neglecting, -in the fear of any one forestalling them, to give any directions for -pursuit of the murderer.</p> - -<p class="normal">The house lay close to the Orleans palace, with an entrance from it -into the gardens of the latter. Through that door they passed, walked -down a short avenue of trees and vases, crossed a walk, and entered -the palace by a side door. The man made his way straight toward the -little hall, closely followed by the woman, and found the duke, as I -have shown, in conversation with Jacques Cœur and Jean Charost. As -had been agreed, the prince was at first informed that the lady was -very ill, and even that intelligence caused the agitation which I have -depicted. But how can I describe his state of mind when the whole -truth was known, the fire of his rage, the abyss of his sorrow, and -more, far more than all, the depth--the poignancy of his remorse? When -he looked upon that beautiful and placid face, lying there in the -cold, dull sleep of death--when he saw the fair bosom deluged in -purple gore--when he remembered that, for the gratification of his -light love, he had torn her from the arms of a husband who doted on -her, from peaceful happiness and tranquil innocence, if not from joy -and splendor--when he thought he had made her an adulteress--had -brought disgrace upon her name--that he had been even, as he felt at -that moment, accessory to her death, the worm that never dies seemed -to fix itself upon his heart, and, casting himself down beside the -bed, he cursed the day that he was born, and invoked bitterer -maledictions on his own head than his worst enemy would have dared to -pile upon him.</p> - -<p class="normal">True, in his anguish he did not altogether forget his energy. Instant -orders were given to search for and pursue the murderer; and especial -directions to beset all the doors of a small hotel in the neighborhood -of the Temple, and to mark well who went out or came in. But this -done, he fell again into the dark apathy of despair, and, seated in -the chamber of death, slept not, took no refreshment throughout the -livelong night. Priests came in, tall tapers were set in order, vases -of holy water, and silver censers, and solemn voices were raised in -holy song. But the duke sat there unmoved; his arms crossed upon his -chest; his eyes fixed with a stony glare upon the floor. No one dared -to speak to him or to disturb him; and the dark, long night of winter -waned away, and the gray morning sunlight entered the chamber, ere he -quitted the side of her he had loved and ruined.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER VI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Hope is nothing but a bit of cork floating on the sea of life, -now -tossed up into the sky, now sunk down into the abyss, but rising, -rising again over the crest of the foamy wave, and topping all things -even unto the end.</p> - -<p class="normal">Joyous and hopeful, Jean Charost presented himself at the gates of the -Duke of Orleans's palace; but the heavy door under the archway was -closed, and some minutes elapsed ere he obtained admission. The tall -man who opened for him seemed doubtful whether he would let him in or -not; and it was not till Jean had explained that the duke had -appointed him, and that he was the person who had accompanied Jacques -Cœur on the preceding night, that the man would let him pass the -wicket. He then told him, however, to go on to the house and inquire -for the master of the pages.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost was not very well satisfied with this reply; for, to his -mind, it seemed to indicate that the duke had made up his mind to -place him among his pages, and had given orders accordingly. Now the -position of a page in a great household was not very desirable in the -eyes of Jean Charost; besides, he had passed the age, he thought, when -such a post was appropriate. He had completed his seventeenth year, -and looked much older than he really was.</p> - -<p class="normal">As he walked on, however, he heard a step behind him, and, looking -round, saw a man following him. There was nothing very marvelous in -this, and he proceeded on his way till he found himself in the -vestibule before described, and asked, as he had been directed, for -the master of the pages. The man to whom he addressed himself said, -"I'll send you to him. You were here last night, were you not, young -gentleman?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost answered in the affirmative, and the man made a sign to -the person who had followed the youth across the garden and had -entered the vestibule with him. Immediately Jean felt his arm taken -hold of, somewhat roughly, by the personage behind him, and, ere he -well knew what was taking place, he was pulled into a small room on -one side of the vestibule, and the door closed upon him. The room was -already tenanted by three or four persons of different conditions. One -seemed an old soldier, with a very white beard, and a scar across his -brow; one was dressed as a mendicant friar; and one, by his round -jacket, knee-breeches, and blue stockings, with broad-toed shoes and a -little square cap, was evidently a mechanic. The old soldier was -walking up and down the room with a very irritable air; the mendicant -friar was telling his beads with great rapidity; the mechanic sat in a -corner, twisting his thumbs round and round each other, and looking -half stupefied. The scene did not explain itself at all, and Jean -stood for a moment or two, not at all comprehending why he was brought -there, or what was to happen next.</p> - -<p class="normal">"By Saint Hubert, this is too bad!" exclaimed the old soldier, at -length; and approaching the door, he tried to open it, but it was -locked.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pray, what is the matter?" asked Jean Charost, simply.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, don't you know?" exclaimed the old man. "On my life, I believe -the duke is as mad as his brother."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The fact is, my son," said the friar, "some offense was committed -here last night, a robbery or a murder; and the duke has given orders -that every body who was at the house after the hour of seven should be -detained till the matter is investigated."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He does not suppose I committed a murder!" exclaimed the old soldier, -in a tone of great indignation.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can't tell that," replied the friar, with a quiet smile; "gentlemen -of your profession sometimes do."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I never murdered any body in my life," whined the mechanic.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Happy for you," said the friar; "and happier still if you get people -to believe you."</p> - -<p class="normal">He then addressed himself to his beads again, and for nearly an hour -all was silence in the room, except the low muttering of the friar's -paters and aves. But the gay hopes of Jean Charost sunk a good deal -under the influence of delay and uncertainty, although, of course, he -felt nothing like alarm at the situation in which he was placed. At -length a man in a black gown and a square black cap was introduced, -struggling, it is true, and saying to those who pushed him in, "Mark, -I resist! it is not with my own consent. This incarceration is -illegal. The duke is not a lord high justiciary on this ground; and -for every minute I will have my damages, if there be honesty in the -sovereign courts, and justice in France."</p> - -<p class="normal">The door was closed upon him, however, unceremoniously; for the -servants of great men in those days were not very much accustomed to -attend to punctilios of law; and the advocate, for so he seemed, -turned to his fellow-prisoners, and told them in indignant terms how -he had been engaged to defend the steward of the prince in a little -piece of scandal that had arisen in the Marais; how he had visited him -to consult the night before, and had been seized on his return that -day, and thrust in there upon a pretense that would not bear an -argument.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thought," said the old soldier, bitterly, "that you men of the robe -would make any thing bear an argument. I know you argued me out of all -my fortune among you."</p> - -<p class="normal">The little petulant man of law had not time to reply, when the door -was opened, and the whole party were marched into the presence of the -Duke of Orleans, under the escort of half a dozen men-at-arms.</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke was seated in the little hall where Jean Charost had seen him -on the preceding night, with his hair rough and disheveled, and his -apparel neglected. His eyes were fixed upon the table before him, and -he only raised them once or twice during the scene that followed; but -a venerable-looking man who sat beside him, and who was, in fact, one -of the judges of the Châtelet, kept his eyes fixed upon the little -party which now entered with one of those cold, fixed, but piercing -looks that seem to search the heart by less guarded avenues than the -lips.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, Maître Pierrot le Brun," he said, looking at the advocate, "I -will deal with you, brother, first. Pray what was it brought you -hither last night, and again this morning?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The advocate replied, but in a tone greatly subdued, as compared with -that which he had used in the company of his fellow-prisoners. His -case was soon proved, and he was suffered to depart, offering somewhat -humiliating thanks for his speedy dismissal.</p> - -<p class="normal">The old soldier, however, maintained his surly tone, and when asked -what brought him thither the night before and again that day, replied -boldly, "I came to see if the Duke of Orleans would do something for a -man-at-arms of Charles the Fifth. I fought for his father, and was one -half ruined by my services to my king, the other half by such men as -the one who has just gone out. I can couch a lance, or wield a sword -as well as ever, and I don't see why, being a gentleman of name and -arms, I should be thrown on one side like a rusty plastron."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Duke of Orleans suddenly raised his head, asked the old man's -name, wrote something on a bit of paper, and gave it to him, seeming -to raise no small emotions of joy and satisfaction; for the soldier -caught his hand and kissed it warmly, as if his utmost wishes were -gratified.</p> - -<p class="normal">The judge was for asking some more questions, but the duke interfered, -saying, "I know him--let him pass. He had no share in this."</p> - -<p class="normal">The mendicant friar was next examined, and, to say truth, his account -of himself did not seem, to the ears of Jean Charost at least, to be -quite as satisfactory as could be desired. His only excuse for being -twice in the palace of the duke within four-and-twenty hours was, that -he came to beg an alms for his convent, and there was a look of shrewd -meaning in his countenance while he replied, which to one who did not -know all the various trades exercised by gentry of his cloth, seemed -exceedingly suspicious. The duke and the magistrate, however, appeared -to be satisfied, and the former then turned his eyes upon Jean -Charost, while the judge called up the mechanic and put some questions -to him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who are you, young gentleman?" said the Duke of Orleans, motioning -Jean to approach him. "I have seen your face somewhere--who are you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I waited upon your highness last night," replied Jean Charost, with -the rear-guard of all his hopes and expectations routed by the -discovery that the duke did not even recollect him. "I was brought -hither by Monsieur Jacques Cœur; and by your own command, I -returned this morning at nine o'clock."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I remember," said the duke, "I remember;" and, casting down his eyes -again, he fell into a fit of thought which had not come to an end when -the judge concluded his examination of the poor mechanic. That -examination had lasted longer than any of the others; for it seemed -that the man had been working till a late hour on the previous evening -on the bolts of some windows which looked from a neighboring house -into the gardens of the Orleans palace, and that shortly before the -hour at which the murder was committed he had seen a tall man pass -swiftly along the corridor, near which he was employed. He could not -describe his apparel, the obscurity having prevented his remarking the -color; but he declared that it looked like the costume of a priest or -a monk, and was certainly furnished with a hood, much in the shape of -a cowl. This was all that could be extracted from him, and, indeed, it -was evident that he knew no more; so, in the end, he was suffered to -depart.</p> - -<p class="normal">The judge then turned to Jean Charost, who remained standing before -the Duke of Orleans, in anxious expectation of what was to come next. -The duke was still buried in thought; for the young man's reply to his -question had probably revived in his mind all the painful feelings -first produced by the intelligence which had interrupted his -conversation with Jacques Cœur on the preceding night.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is your name, your profession, and what brought you to the -Orleans palace last night, young man?" asked the judge, in a grave, -but not a stern tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My name is Jean Charost de Brecy," replied the young man, "a -gentleman by name and arms; and I came hither last night--"</p> - -<p class="normal">But the Duke of Orleans roused himself from his revery, and waved his -hand, saying, "Enough--enough, my good friend. I know all about this -young man. He could have no share in the dark deed: for he was with me -when it was done. I forgot his face for a moment; but I remember him -well now, and what I promised him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Suffer me, your highness," said the judge. "We know not what he may -have seen in coming or going. Things which seem trifles often have -bearings of great weight upon important facts--at what time came you -hither, young gentleman? Were you alone, and, if not, who was with -you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost answered briefly and distinctly, and the judge then -inquired, "Did you meet any one, as you entered this house, who seemed -to be quitting it?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," replied Jean Charost, "several persons were lingering about the -gate, and in front, between the walls and the chain; but nobody seemed -quitting the spot."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No one in a long flowing robe and cowl, the habit of a priest or a -friar?" asked the judge.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," replied Jean Charost; "but we saw, a few moments before, a man -such as you describe, seeking admission at the gates of a large house -like a monastery. He seemed in haste, too, from the way he rang the -bell."</p> - -<p class="normal">The judge questioned him closely as to the position of the house he -described; and when he had given his answer, turned to the duke, -saying, "The Celestins."</p> - -<p class="normal">"They have had naught to do with it," replied the duke, at once. "The -good brethren love me too well to inflict such grief upon me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"They have cause, my lord," replied the judge; "but we do not always -find that gratitude follows good offices. By your permission, I will -make some inquiry as to who was the person who entered their gates -last night at the hour named."</p> - -<p class="normal">"As you will," replied the duke, shaking his head; "but I repeat, -there is something within me which tells me better than the clearest -evidence, who was the man that did this horrid act; and he is not at -the Celestins. Inquire, if you please; but it is vain, I know. He and -I will meet, however, ere our lives end. My conscience was loaded on -his account. He has well balanced the debt; and when we meet--"</p> - -<p class="normal">He added no more, but clasped his hands tight together, and set his -teeth bitterly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nevertheless, I will inquire," said the judge, who seemed somewhat -pertinacious in his own opinions. "It is needful that this should be -sifted to the bottom. Such acts are becoming too common."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, he rose and took his leave, bidding the artisan follow -him; and Jean Charost remained alone in the presence of the Duke of -Orleans, though two or three servants and armed men passed and -repassed from time to time across the further end of the hall.</p> - -<p class="normal">For several minutes the duke remained in thought; but at length he -raised his eyes to Jean Charost's face, and gazed at him for a few -moments with an absent air. Then rising, he beckoned him to follow, -saying, "Come with me. There is a weight in this air; it is heavy with -sorrow."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he led the way through a small door at the end of the -hall--opposite to that by which the young gentleman had entered--into -a large, square, inner court of the palace, round three sides of which -ran an arcade or cloister.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Give me your arm," said the duke, as they issued forth; and, leaning -somewhat heavily on his young companion, he continued to pace up and -down the arcade for more than an hour, sometimes in silence--sometimes -speaking a few words--asking a question--making some observation on -the reply--or giving voice to the feelings of his own heart, in words -which Jean Charost did not half understand.</p> - -<p class="normal">More than once a page, a servant, or an armed officer would come and -ask a question, receive the duke's answer, and retire. But in all -instances the prince's reply was short, and made without pausing in -his walk. It was evidently one of those moments of struggle when the -mind seeks to cast off the oppression of some great and heavy grief, -rousing itself again to resist, after one of all the many stunning -blows which every one must encounter in this mortal career. And it is -wonderful how various is the degree of elasticity--the power of -action--shown by the spirits of different men in the same -circumstances. The weak and puny, the tender and the gentle fall, -crushed, as it were, probably never to recover, or crawl away from a -battle-field, for which they are not fitted, to seek in solitude an -escape from the combat of life. The stern and hardy warrior, -accustomed to endure and to resist, may be cast down for a moment by -the shock, but starts on his feet again, ready to do battle the next -instant; and the light and elastic leaps up with the very recoil of -the fall, and mingles in the melee again, as if sporting with the ills -of the world. In the character of the Duke of Orleans there was -something of both the latter classes of mind. From his very infancy he -had been called upon to deal with the hard things of life. Strife, -evil, sorrow, care, danger, had been round his cradle, and his youth -and his manhood had been passed in contests often provoked by himself, -often forced upon him by others.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was evident that, in the present case, the prince had suffered -deeply, and we have seen that he yielded, more than perhaps he had -ever done before, to the weight of his sorrow. But he was now making a -great effort to cast off the impression, and to turn his mind to new -themes, as a relief from the bitterness of memory. He was in some -degree successful, although his thoughts would wander back, from time -to time, to the painful topic from which he sought to withdraw them; -but every moment he recovered himself more and more. At first, his -conversation with Jean Charost consisted principally of questions, the -replies to which were hardly heard or noticed; but gradually he began -to show a greater interest in the subject spoken of, questioned the -young man much, both in regard to Jacques Cœur and to his own fate -and history, and though he mused from time to time over the replies, -yet he soon returned to the main subject again, and seemed pleased and -well satisfied with the answers he received.</p> - -<p class="normal">Indeed, the circumstances attending both the first introduction and -second interview of Jean Charost with the duke were of themselves -fortunate. He became associated, as it were, in the prince's mind with -moments sanctified by sorrow, and filled with deep emotion. A link of -sympathy seemed to be established between them, which nothing else -could have produced, and the calm, graceful, thoughtful tone of the -young man's mind harmonized so well with the temporary feelings of the -prince, that, in the hour which followed, he had made more progress in -his regard than a gayer, a lighter, a more brilliant spirit could have -done in double the time.</p> - -<p class="normal">Still, nothing had been said of the position which Jean Charost was to -occupy in the prince's household, when a man bearing a long white wand -entered, and informed the duke that the Duke de Berri was coming that -way to visit him. Orleans turned, and advanced a few steps toward a -door leading from the court into the interior of the building, as if -to meet his noble relation. But before he was half down the arcade, -the Duke de Berri was marshaled in, with some state, by the prince's -officers.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Leave us," said the Duke of Orleans, speaking to the attendants, as -soon as he had embraced his relation; and Jean Charost, receiving the -command as general, was about to follow. But the prince stopped him, -beckoning him up, and presented him to the Duke de Berri, saying, -"This is my young secretary, noble uncle; given to me by my good -friend Jacques Cœur. I have much to say to you; some part of which -it may be necessary to reduce to writing. We had better, therefore, -keep him near us."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Duke de Berri merely bowed his head, gazing at Jean Charost -thoughtfully; and the prince added, "But the air is shrewd and keen, -even here, notwithstanding the sunshine. Let us go into the octagon -chamber. No, not there, it overlooks that dreadful room. This way, my -uncle."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER VII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">"This is beautiful writing," said the Duke of Orleans, laying -one hand -upon Jean Charost's shoulder, and leaning over him as he added the few -last words to a proposal of accommodation between the prince and the -Duke of Burgundy. "Can the hand that guides a pen so well wield a -sword and couch a lance?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It may be somewhat out of practice, sir," replied Jean Charost, "for -months have passed since it tried either; but, while my father lived, -it was my pastime, and he said I should make a soldier."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He was a good one himself, and a good judge," replied the duke. "But -we will try you, Jean--we will try you. Now give me the pen. I can -write my name, at least, which is more than some great men can do."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost rose, and the duke, seating himself, signed his name in a -good bold hand, and folded up the paper. "There, my uncle," he -continued, "you be the messenger of peace to the Hôtel d'Artois. I -must go to Saint Pol to see my poor brother. He was in sad case -yesterday; but I have ever remarked that his fury is greatest on the -eve of amendment. Would to God that we could but have an interval of -reason sufficiently long for him to settle all these distracting -affairs himself, and place the government of the kingdom on a basis -more secure. Gladly would I retire from all these cares and toils, and -pass the rest of my days--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"In pleasure?" asked the Duke de Berri, with a faint smile.</p> - -<p class="normal">A cloud came instantly over the face of the Duke of Orleans. "Nay, not -so," he replied, in a tone of deep melancholy. "Pleasure is past, good -uncle. I would have said--and pass the rest of my days in thought, in -sorrow, and perhaps in penitence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Would that it might be so," rejoined the old man; and he shook his -head with a sigh and a doubtful look.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You know not what has happened here," said the Duke of Orleans, -laying his hand gloomily upon his relation's arm. "An event fearful -enough to awaken any spirit not plunged in utter apathy. I can not -tell you. I dare not remember it. But you will soon hear. Let us go -forth;" and, with his eyes fixed upon the ground, he walked slowly out -of the room, accompanied by the Duke de Berri, without taking any -further notice of Jean Charost, who followed, a step or two behind, to -the outer court, where the horses and attendants of both the princes -were waiting for them.</p> - -<p class="normal">Some word, some indication of what he was to do, of what was expected -from him, or how he was to proceed, Jean Charost certainly did look -for. But none was given. Wrapped in dark and sorrowful meditations, -the duke mounted and rode slowly away, without seeming to perceive -even the groom who held his stirrup, and the young man remained in the -court, a complete stranger among a crowd of youths and men, each of -whom knew his place and had his occupation. His heart had not been -lightened; his mind had not been cheered by all the events of the -morning; and the gloomy, mysterious hints which he had heard of a dark -and terrible crime having been committed within those walls, brooded -with a shadowy horror over the scene. But those who surrounded him -seemed not in the least to share such sensations. Death tenanted a -chamber hard by; the darkened windows of the house that flanked the -garden could be seen from the spot where they stood, and yet there -appeared no heavy heart among them. No one mourned, no one looked sad. -One elderly man turned away whistling, and re-entered the palace. Two -squires, in the prime of life, began to spar and wrestle with rude -jocularity, the moment their lord's back was turned; and many a -monkey-trick was played by the young pages, while three or four lads, -some older, some younger than Jean Charost himself, stood laughing and -talking at one side of the court, with their eyes fixed upon him.</p> - -<p class="normal">He felt his situation growing exceedingly unpleasant, and, after some -consideration, he made up his mind to turn back again into the house, -and ask to see the master of the pages, to whom he had been first -directed; but, just as he was about to put this purpose in execution, -a tall, gayly-dressed young man, with budding mustache, and sword and -dagger by his side, came from the little group I have mentioned, and -bowed low to the young stranger, with a gay but supercilious air. "May -I inquire," he said, using somewhat antiquated phrases, and all the -grimace of courtesy, "May I inquire, <i>Beau Sire</i>, who the <i>Beau Sire</i> -may be, and what may be his business here?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost was not apt to take offense; and though the tone and -manner were insolent, and his feelings but little in harmony with a -joke, he replied, quietly enough, "My name is Jean Charost de Brecy, -and my business, sir, is certainly not with you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How can the <i>Beau Sire</i> tell that?" demanded the other, while two or -three more from the same youthful group gathered round, "seeing that -he knows not my name. But on that score I will enlighten him. My name -is Juvenel de Royans."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then, Monsieur Juvenel de Royans," replied the young man, growing a -little angry, "I will in turn inform you how I know that my business -is not with you. It is simply because it lies with his highness, the -Duke of Orleans, and no one else."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, ho!" cried the young man, "we have a grand personage to deal -with, who will not take up with pages and valets, I warrant; a -chanticleer of the first crow! Sir, if you are not a cock of the lower -court, perhaps it might be as well for you to vacate the premises."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I really don't know what you mean, good youth," answered Jean -Charost. "You seem to wish to insult me. But I will give you no -occasion. You shall make one, if you want one; and I have only simply -to warn you that his highness last night engaged me in his service."</p> - -<p class="normal">"As what? as what?" cried a dozen voices round him.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost hesitated; and Juvenel de Royans, seeing that he had -gained some advantage, though he knew not well what, exclaimed, in a -solemn and reproving tone, "Silence, messieurs. You are all mistaken. -You think that every post in this household is filled, and therefore -that there is nothing vacant for this young gentleman. But there is -one post vacant, for which he is, doubtless, eminently qualified, -namely, the honorable office of Instructor of the Monkeys."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The first that I am likely to begin with is yourself," answered Jean -Charost, amid a shout of laughter from the rest; "and I am very likely -to give you the commencing lesson speedily, if you do not move out of -my way."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am always ready for instruction," replied the other, barring the -passage to the house.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost's hand was upon his collar in a moment; but the other was -as strong as himself, and a vehement struggle was on the point of -taking place, when a middle-aged man, who had been standing at the -principal door of the palace, came out and thrust himself between the -two youths, exclaiming, "For shame! for shame! Ah, Master Juvenel, at -your old tricks again. You know they have cost you the duke's favor. -Take care that they do not cost you something more."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The young gentleman offered me some instruction," said Juvenel de -Royans, in a tone of affected humility. "Surely you would not have me -reject such an offer, although I know not who he is, or what may be -his capability for giving it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is the duke's secretary, sir," said the elder man, "and may have -to give you instruction in more ways than you imagine."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I cry his reverence, and kiss the toe of his pantoufle," said the -other, nothing daunted, adding, as he looked at Jean Charost's shoes, -which were cut in a somewhat more convenient fashion than the -extravagant and inconvenient mode of Paris, "His <i>cordovanier</i>; has -been somewhat penurious in regard to those same pantoufle toes, but my -humility is all the greater."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come with me, sir; come with me, and never mind the foolish boy," -said the elder gentleman, taking Jean Charost's arm, and drawing him -away. "I will take you to the maître d'hôtel, who will show you your -apartments. The duke will not be long absent, and if his mind have a -little recovered itself, he will soon set all these affairs to rights -for you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps there may be some mistake," said Jean Charost, hesitating a -little. "I think that you are the gentleman who introduced the Duke de -Berri about half an hour ago; but, although his highness gave me the -name of his secretary in speaking to that duke, he has in no way -intimated to me personally that I am to fill such an office, and it -may be better not to assume that it is so till I hear further."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not so, not so," cried the gentleman, with a smile. "You do not know -the duke yet. He is a man of a single word: frank, and honest in all -his dealings. What he says, he means. He may do more, but never less; -and it were to offend him to doubt any thing he has said. He called -you his secretary in your presence; I heard him, and you are just as -much his secretary as if you had a patent for the place. Besides, -shortly after Maître Jacques Cœur left him yesterday evening--the -first time, when he was here alone, I mean--he gave orders concerning -you. I am merely a poor <i>écuyer de la main</i>, but tolerably well with -his highness. The maître d'hôtel, however, knows all about it."</p> - -<p class="normal">By this time they had reached the vestibule of the palace, and Jean -Charost was conducted by his new friend through a number of turning -and winding passages, which showed him that the house was much larger -than he had at first believed, to a large room, where they found an -old man in a lay habit of black, but with the crown of his head -shaved, immersed in an ocean of bundles of papers, tied up with -pack-thread.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is the young gentleman of whom the duke spoke to you, signor," -said Jean's conductor; "his highness's new secretary. You had better -let him see his rooms, and take care of him till the duke comes, for I -found young Juvenel de Royans provoking him to quarrel in the outer -court."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, that youth, that youth," cried the maître d'hôtel, with a strong -foreign accent. "He will get himself into trouble, and Heaven knows -the trouble he has given me. But can not you, good Monsieur Blaize, -just show the young gentleman his apartments? Here are the keys. I -know it is not in your office; but I am so busy just now, and so sad -too, that you would confer a favor upon me. Then bring him back, as -soon as he knows his way, and we three will dine snugly together in my -other room. It is two hours past the time; but every thing has been in -disorder this black day, and the duke has gone out without any dinner -at all. Will you favor me, Monsieur Blaize?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"With pleasure, with pleasure, my good friend," replied the old -<i>écuyer</i>, taking the two keys which the other held out to him, and -saying, in an inquiring tone, "The two rooms next to the duke's -bed-room, are they not?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no. The two on this side, next the toilet-chamber," answered the -other. "You will find a fire lighted there, for it is marvelous cold -in this horrid climate;" and Monsieur Blaize, nodding his head, led -the way toward another part of the palace.</p> - -<p class="normal">Innumerable small chambers were passed, their little doors jostling -each other in a long corridor, and Jean Charost began to wonder when -they would stop, when a sharp turn brought them to a completely -different part of the house. A large and curiously-constructed -stair-case presented itself, rising from the sides of a vestibule, in -two great wings, which seemed all the way up as if they were going to -meet each other at the next landing-place, but yet, taking a sudden -turn, continued separate to the top of the five stories through which -they ascended, without any communication whatsoever between the -several flights. Quaint and strange were the ornaments carved upon the -railings and balustrades: heads of devils and angels, cherubims with -their wings extended, monkeys playing on the fiddle, dragons with -their snaky tails wound round the bones of a grinning skeleton, and -Cupid astride upon a goose. In each little group there was probably -some allegory, moral or satirical; but, though very much inclined, -Jean Charost could not pause to inquire into the conceit which lay -beneath, for his companion led the way up one of the flights with a -rapid step, and then carried him along a wide passage, in which the -doors were few and large, and ornamented with rich carvings, but dimly -seen in the ill-lighted corridor. At the end, a little flight of six -broad steps led them to another floor of the house, more lightsome and -cheerful of aspect, and here they reached a large doorway, with a -lantern hanging before it and some verses carved in the wood-work upon -the cornice.</p> - -<p class="normal">Here Monsieur Blaize paused for a moment to look over his shoulder, -and say, "That is the duke's bed-chamber, and the door beyond his -toilet-chamber, where he receives applicants while he is dressing; and -now for the secretary's room."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, he approached a little door--for no great symmetry was -observed--and, applying a key to the lock, admitted his young -companion into the apartments which were to be his future abode. The -first room was a sort of antechamber to the second, and was fitted up -as a sort of writing-chamber, with tables, and chairs, and stools, -ink-bottles and cases for paper, while a large, open fire-place -displayed the embers of a fire, which had been sufficiently large to -warm the whole air within. Within this room wat another, separated -from it by a partition of plain oak, containing a small bed, very -handsomely decorated, a chair, and a table, but no other furniture, -except three pieces of tapestry, representing, somewhat grotesquely, -and not very decently, the loves of Jupiter and Leda. The two -chambers, which formed one angle of the building, and received light -from two different sides, had apparently been one in former times, but -each was large enough to form a very convenient room; and there was an -air of comfort and habitability, if I may use the term, which seemed -to the eye of Jean Charost the first cheerful thing he had met with -since his entrance into the palace.</p> - -<p class="normal">On the table, in the writing-room, were spots of ink of no very old -date; and one article, belonging to a former tenant had been left -behind, in the shape of a sword hanging by one of the rings of the -scabbard from a nail driven into the oaken partition. In passing -through, Jean Charost paused to look at it, and the old <i>écuyer</i> -exclaimed, "Ah, poor fellow! he will never use it again. That belonged -to Monsieur De Gray, the duke's late secretary, who was killed in a -rencounter near Corbeil. Master Juvenel de Royans thought to get the -post, but he had so completely lost the duke's favor by his rashness -and indiscretion, that it was flatly refused him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then probably he will be no great friend of mine," said Jean Charost, -with a faint smile; "and perhaps his conduct just now had as much of -malice in it as of folly."</p> - -<p class="normal">Monsieur Blaize paused and meditated for a moment. He was at that age -when the light tricks and vagaries of sportive youth are the most -annoying--not old enough to dote upon the reflected image of regretted -years, nor young enough to feel any sympathy with the follies of -another age. He was, nevertheless, a very just man, and, as Jean -Charost found afterward, just in small things as well as great; in -words as well as deeds.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," he said, thoughtfully; "no; I do not think he is one to bear -malice--at all events, not long. His nature is a frank and generous -one, though overlaid by much conceit and vanity, and carried away by a -rash, unbridled spirit. It is probable he neither cared who or what -you were, and merely resolved, in order to make the foolish boys round -him laugh, that he would have what he called some sport with the -stranger, without at all considering how much pain he might give, or -where an idle jest might end. There are multitudes of such men in the -world, and they gain, good lack! the reputation of gallant, daring -spirits, simply because they put themselves and every one else in -danger, as if the continual periling of a hard head were really any -sign of being a brave man. But we must not keep the signor's dinner -waiting. It is one of his little foibles to love his meat well done, -and never drink bad wine. Your eyes seem seeking something. What is it -you require?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thought, perhaps," replied Jean Charost, "that my baggage might -have been brought up here, as the apartment, it seems, was prepared -for me. It must have come some time ago, I think. My horse, too, I -left at the gates, and Heaven knows what has become of him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We will inquire--we will inquire as we go," said the <i>écuyer</i>; "but -no great toilet is required here at the dinner hour. At supper we -sometimes put on our smart attire; but, in these hazardous times, one -never knows how, or how soon, the mid-day meal may be brought to an -end."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he turned to the door, and, taking a different way back -from that which he had followed in leading Jean Charost to his -apartments, he paused for a moment at a little dark den, shut off from -one of the lower halls by a half door, breast high, and spoke a few -words to some invisible person within.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stall number nineteen," growled a voice from within. "But who's to -dress him? No groom--no horse-boy, even!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"We will see to that presently," replied the <i>écuyer</i>; and then seeing -a man pass along the other side of the hall, he crossed over, spoke to -him for a moment or two, and returning, informed Jean Charost that his -baggage had arrived, and would be carried up to the door of his -apartments before dinner was over.</p> - -<p class="normal">On returning to the rooms of the maître d'hôtel, they found that high -functionary emerged from his accounts, and ready to conduct them into -his own private dining-room, where, by especial privilege, he took his -meals with a select few, and certainly did not fare worse than his -lord and master. There might be more gold on the table of the Duke of -Orleans, but probably less good cheer. The maître d'hôtel himself was -a sleek, quiet specimen of Italian humanity, always exceedingly full -of business, very accurate, and even very faithful; by birth a -gentleman; nominally an ecclesiastic; fond of quiet, if not of ease, -and loving all kinds of good things, without the slightest objection -to a sly joke, even if the whiskers of decency, morality, or religion -were a little singed thereby. He was an exceedingly good man, -nevertheless, a hater of all strife and quarreling, though in this -respect he had fallen upon evil days; and his appearance and conduct, -with his black beard, his tonsure, his semi-clerical dress, and his -air of grave suavity, generally assured him respect from all members -of the duke's household.</p> - -<p class="normal">Two other officers, besides himself and the <i>écuyer</i>, formed the party -at dinner with Jean Charost, and every thing passed with great -decorum, all parties seeming to enjoy themselves among fat capon, -snipes, rich Burgundy, and other delicacies, far too much to waste the -precious moments in idle conversation.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost thought the dinner very dull indeed, and wondered, with a -feeling of some apprehension, if his meals were always to be taken in -such solemn assembly. Peals of laughter, too, which he heard from a -hall not far off, gave the gravity of the proceedings all the effect -of contrast. But the young gentleman soon found that when that serious -passion, hunger, was somewhat appeased, his companions could unbend a -little. With the second course, a few quiet jokes began to fly about, -staid and formal enough, indeed; but the gravity of the party was soon -restored by Monsieur Blaize starting a subject of importance, in which -Jean Charost was deeply interested. He announced to the maître d'hôtel -that their young companion, not knowing the customs of the duke's -household, had brought no servant with him, and it was agreed upon all -hands that this was a defect to be remedied immediately.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean was a little puzzled, and a little alarmed at the idea of expense -about to be incurred; for his education had been one of forced -economy, and the thought of entertaining a servant for his own -especial needs had never entered into his mind. He could only protest, -however, in a subdued and somewhat anxious tone, that he knew not -where or how to procure a person suitable; but, on that score, -immediate assistance was offered him by the maître d'hôtel himself.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have more than a hundred and fifty names on my books," he said, "of -lads all eager to be entered upon the duke's household in any -capacity. I will look through the list by-and-by."</p> - -<p class="normal">But, without giving him time to do so, every one of the gentlemen at -the table hastened to mention some one whom he would be glad to -recommend, leading Jean Charost to say to himself, "If the post of -lackey to the duke's secretary be so desirable, how desirable must be -the post of secretary itself!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The discussion continued during the whole of the second course, each -having a good deal to say in favor of his nominee, and each a jest to -launch at the person recommended by any other.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is Pierre Crouton," said one elderly gentleman. "He was born -upon my estate, near Charenton, and a brisker, more active lad never -lived. He has had good instruction, too, and knows every corner of -Paris from the Bastile to the Tour de Nesle."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well acquainted with the little Châtelet, likewise," said Monsieur -Blaize. "I have heard that the jailer's great dogs will not even bark -at him. But there is Matthew Borne, the son of old James Borne, who -died in the duke's service long ago."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay," said another, "poor James, when he was old, and battered to -pieces, married the pretty young grisette, and this was her son. It's -a wise son that knows his own father. Pray, what has become of her, -Monsieur Blaize? You should know, if any one does."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know nothing about her," said the <i>écuyer</i>, somewhat sharply. "Her -son came to me, asking a recommendation. I have given him that, and -that's all I know."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Trust to me, trust to me, my young friend," said the maître d'hôtel, -in a whisper, to Jean Charost. "I will find the lad to suit you before -nightfall. Come to me in half an hour, and you shall have a choice."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost promised to follow his counsels, and soon after the -little party broke up.</p> - -<p class="normal">Strange is the sensation with which a young man encounters the first -half hour of solitary thought in a new situation. Have you forgotten -it, dear reader? Yes--perhaps entirely; and yet you must have -experienced it at some time. When you first went to join your -regiment; when, after all the bustle, and activity, and embarrassment, -and a little sheepishness, and a little pride, and a little -awkwardness perhaps, and perhaps all the casualties of the first mess -dinner, you sat down in your barrack-room, not so much to review the -events of the day, as to let the mind settle, and order issue out of -chaos: you have felt it then. Or, when you have joined a squad of -lawyer's clerks, or entered a merchant's counting-house, or plunged -into a strange city, or entered a new university, and passed through -all the initiations, and sat down in the lull of the evening or the -dead of night, to find yourself alone--separate not only from familiar -faces, and things associated with early associations, but from -habitual thoughts and sensations, from family customs and domestic -habits: you must have felt it then, and experienced a solitude such as -a desert itself can hardly give.</p> - -<p class="normal">Seated in his writing-room, without turning a thought or a look to his -baggage, which had been placed at the door for himself to draw in, -Jean Charost gave himself up to thought--I believe I might better say -to sensation. He felt his loneliness, more than thought of it, and -Memory, with one of those strange vagaries, in which she delights as -much as Fancy, skipped at once over a period of fourteen or fifteen -months, and carried him back at once to the small château of Brecy, -and to the frugal table in his mother's hall. The quaint, long -windows, with one pointed arch within another, and two or three pale -yellow warriors of stained glass, transmitting the discolored rays -upon the floor. The high-backed chair, never used since his father's -death, standing against the wall, with a knob in the centre, resting -against the iron chausses of an antiquated suit of armor, the plain -oaken board in the middle of the room, and his mother and the two -maids spinning in the sunniest nook, came up before his eyes almost as -plainly as they had appeared the year and a half before. He heard the -hound howling in the court-yard, and the song of the milk-maid -bringing home the pail upon her head, and the song of the bird, which -used to sit in March mornings on the topmost bough of an ash-tree, -which had rooted itself on an inner tower, somewhat neglected and -dilapidated. For a moment or two he was at home again. His paternal -dwelling-place formed a little picture apart in his room in the -Parisian palace, and the cheerful sunshine, pouring from early -associations, formed a strange and striking contrast with the sort of -dark isolation which he felt around him.</p> - -<p class="normal">The contrast, perhaps, might have been as great if he had compared the -present with days more recently passed; for in the house of Jacques -Cœur he had been, from the first, at home; but still his mind did -not rest upon it. It reverted to those earlier days; and he sat gazing -on the floor, and wishing himself--notwithstanding the eagerness of -youthful hope, the buoyancy of youthful spirits, the impetuosity of -youthful desires--wishing himself once more in the calm and happy -bosom of domestic life, and away from splendid scenes devoid of all -warm and genial feelings, where gold and jewels might glitter and -shine, but where every thing was cold as the metal, and hard as the -stone.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was a boy's fancy. It was the fancy of an hour. He knew that the -strangeness would soon pass away. Young as he was, he was aware that -the spirit, spider-like, speedily spins out threads to attach itself -to all the objects that surround it, however different to its -accustomed haunts, however strange, and new, and rough may be the -points by which it is encompassed.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length he started up, saying to himself, "Ah, ha! the half hour -must be past;" and quitting the room without locking the door behind -him, he threaded his way through the long passage to the office of the -maître d'hôtel.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Italian seemed to have got through the labors of the day, and -seated in a large chair, with his feet in velvet slippers, extended to -the fire, was yielding after the most improved method to the process -of digestion. He was neither quite awake, nor quite asleep, and in -that benign state of semi-somnolence which succeeds a well considered -meal happily disposed of. The five or ten minutes which Jean Charost -was behind his time had been favorable, by enabling him to prolong his -comfortable repose, and he received the young gentleman with the -utmost benevolence, seating him by him, and talking to him in a quiet, -low, almost confidential tone, but not at first touching upon the -subject which brought his young visitor there. On the contrary, his -object in inviting him seemed to have been rather to give him a -general idea of the character of those by whom he was surrounded, and -of what would be expected from him by the duke himself, than to -recommend him a lackey.</p> - -<p class="normal">Of the duke he spoke in high terms, as in duty bound, but of the -duchess in higher terms still; mingling his commendations, however, -with expressions of compassion, which led Jean Charost to believe that -her married life was not as happy as her virtue merited. The young -listener, however, discovered that the good signor had accompanied the -duchess from her father's court at Milan, and had a hereditary right -to love and respect her.</p> - -<p class="normal">All the principal officers of the duke's household were passed one by -one in review by the good maître d'hôtel, and although the prince and -his lady were both spoken of with profound respect, none of the rest -escaped without some satirical notice, couched in somewhat sharp, -though by no means bitter terms. Even Monsieur Blaize himself was not -exempt. "He is the best, the most upright, and the most prudent man in -the whole household," said the signor; "just in all his proceedings, -with a little sort of worldly wisdom, not the slightest tincture of -letters, a great deal of honest simplicity, and is, what we call in -Italy, 'an ass.'"</p> - -<p class="normal">Such a chart of the country, when we can depend upon its accuracy, is -very useful to a young man in entering a strange household; but, -nevertheless, Jean Charost, though grateful for the information he -received, resolved to use his own eyes, and judge for himself. To say -the truth, he was not at all sorry to find the good maître d'hôtel in -a communicative mood; for the curiosity of youth had been excited by -many of the events of the morning, and especially by the detention and -examination which he had undergone immediately after his arrival. That -some strange and terrible event had occurred, was evident; but a -profound and mysterious silence had been observed by every one he had -seen in the palace regarding the facts. The subject had been carefully -avoided, and no one had even come near it in the most unguarded -moment. With simple skill he endeavored to bring round the -conversation to the point desired, and at length asked, -straightforwardly, what had occurred to induce the the duke's officers -to put him and several others in a sort of arrest, as soon as he had -entered the gates. He gained nothing by the attempt, however. "Ah, -poor lady! ah, sweet lady!" exclaimed the master of the hotel, in a -sad tone. "But we were talking, my young friend, of a varlet fitted -for your service. I have got just the person to suit you. He is as -active as a squirrel, as gay as a lark, understands all points of -service for horse or man, and never asks any questions about what does -not concern him--a most invaluable quality in a prince's household. If -he has any fault, he is too chaste; so you must mind your morals, my -young friend. His wages are three crowns a month, and your cast-off -clothes, with any little gratuity for good service you may like to -bestow. He will be rated on the duke's household, and nourished at his -expense; but you will need a horse for him, which had better be -provided as soon as possible. I advise you strongly to take him; but, -nevertheless, see him first, and judge for yourself. He will be with -you some time to-day; and now I must to work again. Ah, ha! It is a -laborious life. Good-day, my son--good-day."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost took his leave, and departed; but he could not help -thinking that his instructive conversation with the maître d'hôtel had -been brought to a somewhat sudden close by his own indiscreet -questions.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER VIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Great silence pervaded the palace of the Duke of Orleans, or, -at -least, that part of it in which Jean Charost's rooms were situated, -during the rest of the day. He thought he heard, indeed, about half an -hour after he had left the maître d'hôtel, some distant sounds in the -same building, and the blast of a trumpet; but whether the latter -noise proceeded from the streets or from the outer court, he could not -tell. Every thing was still, however, in the corridor hard by. No one -was heard passing toward the apartments of the duke, and the young man -was somewhat anxious in regard to the prince's long delay. What were -to be his occupations, what was expected of him, he knew not; and -although he was desirous of purchasing another horse, in accordance -with the hint given him by Signor Lomelini, the maître d'hôtel, he did -not like to venture out, lest his royal employer should arrive, and -require his presence.</p> - -<p class="normal">The unpacking and arrangement of his baggage afforded him some -occupation, and when that was completed, he took out a book--a rare -treasure, possessed by few in those days--and continued to read till -the crooked letters of the copyist's hand began to fade upon the -vellum, as early night approached. He was just closing the page, when -there was a tap at the door, and a short, slight young man presented -himself, some four or five-and-twenty years of age, but not much -taller than a youth of fourteen or fifteen. He was dressed very -plainly, in a suit of gray cloth, and the light was not sufficient to -show much more; but every thing he had on seemed to have a gay and -jaunty air, and his cap, even when he held it in his hand, exhibited a -sort of obliquity of direction, which showed it to be impossible ever -to keep it straight upon his head.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was no need of asking his name or business, for both were -related in the fewest possible words before he had been an instant in -the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am Martin Grille," he said, "and I have come to be hired by your -lordship."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then I suppose you take it for granted that I will hire you?" said -Jean Charost, with a smile.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Signor Lomelini sent me," replied the young man, in a confident tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He sent you to see if you suited me," replied Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Of course," replied the young man. "Don't I?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost laughed. "I can not say," he answered. "You must first -tell me what you can do."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Every thing," replied the other.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost mused, thinking to himself that a person who could do -every thing was exactly the one to suit him, in a situation in which -he did not know what to do. He answered, however, still half -meditating, "Then I think, my good friend Martin, you are just the man -for me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thank your lordship," replied Martin Grille, without waiting for any -addition to the sentence; but, before Jean Charost could put in a -single proviso, or ask another question, the door opened, and, by aid -of the light from the window in the corridor behind it, the young -gentleman saw a tall, dark figure entering the room. The features he -could not distinguish; but there was something in the air and carriage -of the newcomer which made him instantly rise from his seat, and the -moment after, the voice of the Duke of Orleans said, "What in -darkness, my young friend! My people have not taken proper care of -you. Who is that?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The question applied to Martin Grille, who was retreating out of the -room as fast as his feet could carry him; and Jean Charost replied, -placing a chair for the duke, "Merely a servant, your highness, whom I -have been engaging--an appendage which, coming from humbler dwellings, -I had forgotten to provide myself with till I was here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! these people--these people!" said the duke; "so they have forced -a servant upon you already, though there are varlets enough in this -house to do double the work that is provided for them. However, -perhaps it is as well. But I will see to these affairs of yours for -the future. Take no such step without consulting me, and do so freely; -for Jacques Cœur has interested me in you, and I look upon it that -he has rather committed you to my charge, than placed you in my -service. Come hither with me into a place where there is more light. -Heaven knows, my thoughts are dark enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he turned to the door, and Jean Charost followed him -along the corridor till they reached what had been pointed out as his -toilet-chamber, at the entrance of which stood two of the duke's -attendants, who threw open the door at his approach. Followed by Jean -Charost, he passed silently between them into a large and well-lighted -room, and seating himself, fell into a deep fit of thought, which -lasted for several minutes. At length he raised his head, and looked -up in the young man's face for a moment or two without speaking; but -then said, "I can not to-night. I wished to give you information and -directions as to your conduct and occupations here; but my mind is -very heavy, and can only deal with weighty things. Come to me -to-morrow, after mass, and you shall have some hints that may be -serviceable to you. At present sit down at that table, and draw me up -a paper, somewhat similar to that which I dictated this morning, but -more at large. The terms of accommodation have been accepted as to -general principles, but several particulars require explanation. You -will find the notes there--in that paper lying before you. See if you -can put them in form without reference to me."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost seated himself, and took up the pen; but, on perusing the -notes, he found his task somewhat difficult. Had it been merely a -letter on mercantile business to some citizen of Genoa or Amalfi that -he was called upon to write, the matter would have been easy; but when -it was a formal proposal, addressed to "The High and Mighty Prince -John, Duke of Burgundy," he found himself more than once greatly -puzzled. Twice he looked up toward the Duke of Orleans; but the duke -remained in profound thought, with his arms crossed upon his chest, -and his eyes bent upon a distant spot on the floor; and Jean Charost -wrote on, striving to do his best, but not certain whether he was -right or wrong.</p> - -<p class="normal">For more than half an hour the young man continued writing, and then -said, in a low voice, "It is done, your highness."</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke started, and held out his hand for the paper, which he read -carefully twice over. It seemed to please him, for he nodded his head -to his young companion with a smile, saying, "Very well--better than I -expected. But you must change that word--and that. Choose me something -more forcible. Say impossible, rather than difficult; and positively, -rather than probably. On these points there must be no doubts left. -Then make me a fair copy. It shall go this very night."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost resumed his seat, and executed this task also to the full -satisfaction of the Duke of Orleans. When all was complete, and the -letter sealed and addressed, the duke rang the little <i>clochette</i>, or -silver bell upon his table, and one of the attendants immediately -entered. To him he gave the epistle, with directions for its -transmission by a proper officer, and the man departed in silence. For -a moment or two the duke remained without speaking, but gazing in the -face of Jean Charost, as if considering something he saw there -attentively; and at length he said to himself, "Ay--it is as well. Get -your cloak, M. de Brecy," he continued. "I wish you to go a few steps -with me. Bring sword and dagger with you. There, take a light, as -there is none in your chamber."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young secretary hurried away, and in two minutes returned to the -duke's door; but the attendant would not suffer him to enter till he -had knocked and asked permission. When admitted, he found the duke -equipped for going forth, his whole person enveloped in a large, plain -mantle, and his head covered with a chaperon or hood, which concealed -the greater part of his face. "Now follow me," he said; and passing -the attendant, to whom he gave some orders in a low voice, he led the -way through that corridor and another, then descended a flight of -steps, and issued out by a small door into the gardens. Taking his way -between two rows of trees, he made direct for the opposite wall, -opened a door in it with a key which he carried with him, and, in a -moment after, Jean Charost found himself in a narrow street, along -which a number of persons were passing. "Keep close," said the Duke of -Orleans, after he had closed the door; and then advancing with a quick -pace between the wall and the houses opposite, he led the way direct -into the Rue St. Antoine. The night was clear and bright, though -exceedingly cold, and the Parisian world were all abroad in the -streets; but the duke and his young companion passed unnoticed in the -crowd.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length they reached the gate of that large building at which the -young secretary had seen the man apply for admission on the preceding -night, and there the duke stopped, and rang the same bell. A wicket -door was immediately opened by a man in the habit of a monk, with a -lantern in his hand, and the duke, slightly lifting his <i>cornette</i>, or -chaperon, passed in without speaking, followed by his young secretary. -Taking his way across a long, stone-paved court to the main building, -he entered a large vestibule where a light was burning, and in which -was found an old man busily engaged in painting, with rich hues of -blue, and pink, and gold, the capital letters in a large vellum book. -To him the duke spoke for a moment or two in a low tone, and the monk -immediately took a lantern, and led the way into the interior of the -monastery, which was much more silent and quiet than such abodes were -usually supposed to be. At the end of the second passage, the little -party issued forth upon a long cloister forming one side of a -quadrangle, and separated from the central court by an open screen of -elaborately carved stone work. Here the old monk turned, and gave a -sidelong glance at Jean Charost, lifting his lantern a little, as if -to see him more distinctly, and the Duke of Orleans, seeming to take -this as a hint, paused for an instant, saying, "Wait for me here, M. -De Brecy; I will not be long." He then walked on, and Jean Charost was -left to perambulate the cloister in solitude, and nearly in darkness. -The stars, indeed, were out, and the rising moon was pouring her -silvery rays upon the upper story on the opposite side of the -quadrangle, peeping in at the quaint old windows, and illuminating the -rich tracery of stone. There seemed something solemn, and yet -fanciful, in the picture she displayed. The cold shadows of the tall, -fine pillars, and their infinitely varied capitals; the spouts -sticking out in strange forms of beasts and dragons; the heads of -angels and devils in various angles, and at the ends of corbels, with -the fine fret-work of some tall arches at one corner of the court, -gave ample materials for the imagination to work with at her will; -while the general aspect of the whole was gloomy, if not actually sad. -The mass of buildings around, and the distance of that remote -quadrangle from the street, deadened the noises of the great city, so -that nothing was heard for some time but an indistinct murmur, like -the softened roar of the sea.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the building itself all was still as death, till the slow footfall -of a sandal was heard approaching from the side at which the Duke of -Orleans had disappeared. A moment or two after, the old monk came back -with a lantern, and paused to speak a few words with the young man -from the world without. "It is a bitter cold night, my son," he said, -"and the duke tells me he has come hither with you alone. He risks too -much in these evil times, methinks."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I trust not," replied Jean Charost. "A good prince should have -nothing to fear in the streets of his brother's capital."</p> - -<p class="normal">"All men have enemies, either within or without," replied the monk; -"and no man can be called good till he is in heaven. Have you been -long with the duke, my son? He says you are his secretary."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have been in his highness's service but a few hours," replied Jean -Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He trusts you mightily," answered his ancient companion. "You should -be grateful for his great confidence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am so, indeed, father," replied Jean Charost; "but I owe his -confidence to the kind recommendations of another, rather than to any -merits of my own."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Modestly answered, for one so young," replied the monk. "Methinks you -have not been long in courts, my son. They tell me that modesty is -soon lost there, as well as truth."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I trust that I shall lose neither there," replied Jean Charost, "or I -would soon betake myself afar from such bad influence. I do not hold -that any thing a court could give would repay a man for loss of -honesty."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, I know little of courts," answered the old man, "and perhaps -there is scandal in the tales they tell; but one thing is certain--it -is very cold, and I will betake me to my books again. Good-night, my -son;" and he walked on.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost began again to pace and repace the cloister, fancying, -but not quite sure, that he heard the murmur of voices down the -passage through which the monk had taken his way. Shortly after, he -saw a tall, gray figure flit across the moonlight, which had now -reached to the grass in the centre of the quadrangle. It was lost -almost as soon as seen, and no sound of steps met the young man's ear. -He saw it distinctly, however, and yet there was a sort of -superstitious awe came over him, as if the being he beheld were not of -the same nature with himself. He walked on in the same direction which -it seemed to have taken, but, ere he reached the corner of the -quadrangle, he saw another figure come forth from one of the passages -which branched off from the cloister, and easily recognized the walk -and bearing of the Duke of Orleans. But suddenly that gray figure came -between him and the duke, and a deep-toned, hollow voice was heard to -say, "Bad man, repent while you have yet time! Your days are numbered! -The last grains of sand shake in the hour-glass; the moon will not -change thrice, and find you among the living!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke seemed to stagger back, and Jean Charost darted onward; but -before he reached the spot, the stranger was gone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Follow him not--follow him not!" cried the Duke of Orleans, catching -the arm of his young secretary, who was impulsively hurrying in -pursuit of the man who had put forth what seemed to his ears a daring -threat against the brother of his king; "follow him not, but come -hither;" and, taking Jean Charost's arm, he pursued his way through -the long passages of the monastery to the vestibule, where sat the old -monk busily illuminating his manuscript.</p> - -<p class="normal">Till they reached that room the duke uttered not a word, except his -brief injunction not to follow. But there he seated himself upon a -bench, with a face very pale, and beckoning up the old man, spoke to -him for several moments in a low tone of voice.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I really can not tell," said the monk, aloud. "We have no such -brother as you describe; no one has passed here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He must have passed you, methinks," replied Jean Charost, unable to -resist. "He came from the passage down which you went the moment after -you had left me, and I fancied I heard him speak with you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not so, my son, not so," replied the monk, eagerly; "I saw no one but -yourself, and spoke with no one."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Duke of Orleans sat and mused for a few moments; but then raised -himself to his full height, and threw back his shoulders, as if -casting off a weight; and, taking the arm of Jean Charost, quitted the -convent, merely saying, "This is very strange!"</p> - -<p class="normal">They soon reached the small postern gate in the garden wall, and -entered the precincts of the palace; but as they were approaching the -building itself, the duke paused for a moment, saying to his young -companion, "Not a word of this strange occurrence to any one. Sup in -your own room, and be with me to-morrow at the hour I named."</p> - -<p class="normal">His tone was somewhat stern, and Jean Charost made no reply, thinking, -however, that he was very likely to go without his supper, as he had -no one to send for it. But when he entered his room he found matters -considerably changed, probably in consequence of some orders which the -duke had given as they were going out. A sconce was lighted on the -wall, and a cresset, lamp hung from the ceiling by an iron chain -directly over the table. A large fire of logs was blazing on the -hearth; and, a moment or two after, an inferior servant entered to ask -if he had any commands.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your own varlet, sir, will be here to-morrow," he said; "and in the -mean time, I have his highness's commands to attend upon you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost contented himself with ordering some supper to be brought -to him, and asking some questions in regard to the hours and customs -of the household; and, after all his wants had been attended to, he -retired to rest, without quitting his own room again, judging that the -duke's command to sup there had been given as a sort of precaution -against any indiscretion upon his part, and implied a desire that he -should not mingle with the general household that night. He knew not -what the hour was, and it could not have been very late. But there was -nothing to keep him awake, except a memory of the strange events of -the day, and the light heart of youth soon shakes off such -impressions, so that he slept readily and well.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER IX.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Long before the hour appointed for him to wait upon the duke, -Jean -Charost was up and dressed, expecting every moment to see the servant -he had engaged present himself, but no Martin Grille appeared. The -attendant of the duke, who had waited upon him the preceding evening, -brought him a breakfast not to be despised, consisting of delicacies -from various parts of France, and a bottle of no bad wine of -Beaugency; but he could tell nothing of Martin Grille, and by the time -the meal was over, the hour appointed by the duke had arrived.</p> - -<p class="normal">On being admitted to the prince's dressing-chamber, Jean Charost found -him in his <i>robe de chamber</i>, seated at a table, writing. His face, -the young man could not help thinking, was even graver and sadder than -on the preceding night; but he did not raise his eyes at the -secretary's entrance, and continued to write slowly, often stopping to -correct or alter, till he had covered one side of the paper before -him. When that was done, he handed the sheet to the young secretary, -saying, "There, copy me that;" and, on taking the paper, Jean Charost -was surprised to see that it was covered with verse; for he was not -aware that the duke possessed any of that talent which was afterward -so conspicuous in his son. He seated himself at the table, however, -and proceeded to fulfill the command he had received, not without -difficulty, for the duke's writing, though large and bold, was not -very distinct.</p> -<div style="margin-left:10%; font-size:10pt"> -<pre> - To will and not to do, - Alas! how sad! - Man and his passions too - Are mad--how mad! - - Oh! could the heart but break - The heavy chain - That binds it to this stake - Of earthly pain, - - And see for joys all pure, - And hopes all bright, - For pleasures that endure, - And wells of light, - - And purge away the dross - With life allied, - I ne'er had mourn'd love's loss, - Nor ever cried. - - To will and not to do, - Alas! how sad! - Man and his passions too - Are mad--how mad! -</pre> -</div> -<p class="normal">"Read it, read it," said the Duke of Orleans; and, with some timidity, -the young secretary obeyed, feeling instinctively how difficult it is -to give in reading the exact emphasis intended by the writer. He -succeeded well, however. The duke was pleased, perhaps as much with -his own verses as with the manner in which they were read. But, after -a few words of commendation, he fell into a fit of thought again, from -which he was at length startled by the slow tolling of the bell of a -neighboring church. He raised his eyes suddenly to the face of Jean -Charost as the sounds struck upon his ear, and gazed at him with a -strange, inquiring, but sorrowful expression of countenance, as if he -would fain have asked, "Do you know what that bell means? Can you -comprehend the feelings it begets in me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man bent his eyes gravely to the ground, and that sort of -reverence which we all feel for deep grief, and the sort of awe -excited, especially in young minds, by the display of intense passion, -gave his countenance naturally an expression of sympathy and sorrow.</p> - -<p class="normal">A moment after, the duke started up, exclaiming, "I can not let her go -without a look or a tear! Come with me, my friend, come with me. God -knows I need some support, even in my wrong, and my weakness, and my -punishment."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, that I could give it you, sir!" said Jean Charost, in a low tone; -but the duke merely grasped his arm, and, leaning heavily upon him, -quitted the chamber by a door through which Jean Charost had not -hitherto passed. It led into the prince's bed-room, and from that, -through what seemed a private passage, to a distant suite of rooms on -another front of the house. The duke proceeded with a rapid but -irregular pace, while the bell was still heard tolling, seeming to -make the roof shudder with its slow and heavy vibrations. Through five -or six different vacant chambers, fitted up with costly decorations, -but apparently long unused, the prince hurried forward till he reached -that side of the house which looked over the wall of the gardens into -the Rue Saint Antoine, but there he paused before a window, and gazed -forth.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was nothing to be seen. The street was almost deserted. A -youth in a fustian jacket and wide hose, with a round cap on his -head--evidently some laboring mechanic--passed along toward the -Bastile, gazing forward with a look of stupid eagerness, and then set -off running, as if to see some sight which he was afraid would escape -him; and still the bell was heard tolling slow and solemnly, and -filling the whole air with melancholy trembling.</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke quitted his hold of Jean Charost and crossed his arms upon -his breast, setting his teeth hard, as if there were a terrible -struggle within, in which he was determined to conquer.</p> - -<p class="normal">A moment after, a song rose upon the air--a slow, melancholy chant, -well marked in time, with swelling flow and softening cadence, and now -a pause, and then a full burst of song, sometimes one or two voices -heard alone, and then a full chorus; but all sad, and solemn, and -oppressive to the spirit. At length a man bearing a banner appeared, -and then two or three couple of mendicant friars, and then a small -train of Celestin monks in their long, flowing garments, and then some -boys in white gowns with censers, then priests in their robes, and -then two white horses drawing a car, with a coffin upon it--a closed -coffin, which was not usual in those days at the funerals of the -great. Men on horseback and on foot followed, but Jean Charost did not -clearly distinguish who or what they were. He only saw the priests and -the boys with their censers, and the Celestins in their white gowns -and their black scapularies, and the coffin, and the flowers that -strewed it, even in the midst of winter, in an indistinct and confused -manner, for his attention was strongly called in another direction, -though he did not venture to look round.</p> - -<p class="normal">The moment the head of the procession had appeared from beyond one of -the flanking towers of the garden wall, the Duke of Orleans had laid a -hand upon his shoulder, and grasped him tight, as if for support. -Heavier and heavier pressed the hand, and then the young man felt -that the prince's head was bowed down and rested upon him, while the -long-drawn, struggling breath--the gasp, as if existence were coming -to an end--told the terrible anguish of his spirit.</p> - -<p class="normal">Solemn and slow the notes of the chant rose up as the procession swept -along before the gates of the palace, and the words of the penitent -King of Israel were heard ascending to the sky, and praying the God of -mercy and of power to pardon and to succor. The grasp of the hand grew -less firm, but the weight pressed heavier and heavier; and, turning -suddenly round, Jean Charost cast his arm about the duke, from an -instinctive feeling that he was falling to the ground.</p> - -<p class="normal">The prince's face was deadly pale, and his strong limbs shook as if -with an ague. Bitter tears, too, were on his cheeks, and his lips -quivered. "Get me a chair," he said, faintly, grasping the pillar -between the windows; "I feel ill--get me a chair."</p> - -<p class="normal">Although almost afraid to leave him lest he should fall, Jean Charost -hurried to obey, brought forward one of the large arm-chairs, and, -placing his hand under the duke's arm, assisted him to seat himself in -it. Then gazing anxiously in his face, he beheld an expression of deep -and bitter grief, such as he had never seen before; no, not even in -his mother's face when his father's dead body was brought back to his -paternal hall. The young man's heart was touched; the distinction of -rank and station was done away, in part; sympathy created a bond -between him and one who was comparatively a stranger, and, kneeling at -the prince's side, he kissed his hand, saying, "Oh, sir, be comforted. -Death ever strikes the dearest and the best beloved. It is the lot of -humanity to possess but for a season that which we value most. It is a -trial of our faith to yield unrepining to him who lent that which he -takes away. Trust--trust in God to comfort and to compensate!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke shook his head sadly. "Trust in God!" he repeated, "and him -have I offended. His laws have I broken. Young man, young man, you -know not what it is to see the bitter consummation of what -you yourself have done--to behold the wreck you have made of -happiness--the complete desolation of a life once pure, and bright, -and beautiful--all done by you. Yes, yes," he added, almost wildly, "I -did it all--what matter the instruments--what signifies it that the -dagger was not in my hand? I was the cause of all--I tore her from a -peaceful home, where she had tranquillity, if not love--I blasted her -fair name--I broke up her domestic peace--I took from her happiness--I -gave her penitence and remorse--I armed the hand that stabbed her. -Mine, mine is the whole crime, though she has shared the sorrow and -endured the punishment."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But there is mercy, sir," urged Jean Charost; "there is mercy for all -repentance. Surely Christ died not in vain. Surely he suffered not for -the few, but for the many. Surely his word is not false, his promises -not idle! 'Come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I -will give ye rest.' He spoke of the weariness of the heart, and the -burden of the spirit--He spoke to all men. He spoke to the peasant in -his hut, to the king upon his throne, to the saint in his cell, to the -criminal in his dungeon, to the sorrowful throughout all the earth, -and throughout all time; and to you, oh prince--He spoke also unto -you! Weary and heavy laden are you with your grief and your -repentance; turn unto him, and he will give you rest!"</p> - -<p class="normal">There was something in the outburst of fervid feeling with which the -young man spoke, from the deep interest that had been excited in him -by all he had seen and heard, which went straight home to the heart of -the Duke of Orleans, and casting his arm around him, he once more -leaned his head upon his shoulder, and wept profusely. But now they -seemed to be somewhat calmer tears he shed--tears of grief, but not -altogether of despair; and when he lifted his head again, the -expression of deep, hopeless bitterness was gone from his face. The -chant, too, had ceased in the street, though a faint murmur thereof -was still heard in the distance.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have given me comfort, Jean," he said; "you have given me -comfort, when none else, perhaps, could have done so. You are no -courtier, dear boy. You have spoken, when others would have stood in -cold and reverent silence. Oh, out upon the heartless forms that cut -us off from our fellow-men, even in the moment when the intensity of -our human sufferings makes us feel ourselves upon the level of the -lowliest! Out upon the heartless forms that drive us to break through -their barrier into the sphere of passion, as much in pursuit of human -sympathies as of mere momentary pleasure! Come with me, Jean. It is -over--the dreadful moment is past--I will seek him to whom thou hast -pointed--I will seek comfort there. But on this earth, the hour just -passed has forged a tie between thee and me which can never be broken. -Now I can understand how thou hast won so much love and confidence; it -is that thou hast some heart, where all, or almost all, are -heartless."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he raised himself with the aid of the young man's arm, -and walked slowly back to his own apartments by the way he had come.</p> - -<p class="normal">When they had entered his toilet-chamber, the duke cast himself into a -chair, saying, "Now leave me, De Brecy; but be not far off. I need not -tell you not to speak of any thing you have seen. I know you will not. -I will send for you soon; but I must have time for thought."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost withdrew and sought his own room; but it is not to be -denied that the moment was a perilous one for his favor with the Duke -of Orleans. It is a very dangerous thing to witness the weaknesses of -great men--or those emotions which they look upon as weaknesses. -Pride, vanity, doubt, fear, suspicion, all whisper hate against those -who can testify that they are not so strong as the world supposes. -Alas, that it should be so! But so it is; and it was but by a happy -quality in the mind of the Duke of Orleans--the native frankness and -generosity of his disposition--that Jean Charost escaped the fate of -so many who have witnessed the secret emotion of princes. Happily for -himself, he knew not that there was any peril, and felt, though in a -different sense, that, as the prince had said, there was a new tie -between him and his royal master.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER X.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">At the corner of a street, on the island which formed the -first -nucleus round which gathered the great city of Paris, was a small -booth, protruding from a little, ill-favored house, some three or four -hundred yards from the church of Nôtre Dame. This booth consisted -merely of a coarse wooden shed, open in front, and only covered -overhead by rough, unsmoothed planks, while upon a rude table or -counter, running along the front, appeared a number of articles of -cutlery, knives, great rings, and other iron ware, comprising the -daggers worn, and often used in a sanguinary manner, by the lower -order of citizens; for, though the possessor of the stall was not a -regular armorer by profession, he did not think himself prohibited -from dealing in the weapons employed by his own class. Written in -white chalk upon a board over the booth were the words, "Simon, dit -Caboche, Maître Coutellier."</p> - -<p class="normal">Behind the table on which his goods were displayed appeared the -personage to whom the above inscription referred: a man of some -forty-five or forty-six years of age, tall, brawny, and powerful, with -his huge arms bare up to the elbows, notwithstanding the severity of -the weather. His countenance was any thing but prepossessing, and yet -there was a certain commanding energy in the broad, square forehead -and massive under jaw, which spoke, truly enough, the character of the -man, and obtained for him considerable influence with people of his -own class. Yet he was exceedingly ugly; his cheek bones high and -prominent; his eyes small, fierce, and flashing, and his nose turned -up in the air, as if in contempt of every thing below it. His skin was -so begrimed with dirt, that its original color could with difficulty -be distinguished; but it was probably of that dark, saturnine brown, -which seldom looks completely clean; for his hair was of the stiff, -black, bristly nature which usually goes with that complexion.</p> - -<p class="normal">Limping about in the shop beside him was a creature, which even -youth--usually so full of its own special charms--could not render -beautiful or graceful. Nature seemed to have stamped upon it, from its -birth, the most repulsive marks. It was a boy of some ten or twelve -years old, but still his eyes hardly reached above the table on which -the cutler's goods were displayed; but, by a peculiarity not uncommon, -the growth which should have been upright had, by some obstacle, been -forced to spread out laterally, and the shoulders, ribs, and hips were -as broad as those of a grown man. The back was humped, though not very -distinctly so; the legs were both short, but one was shorter than the -other; and one eye was defective, probably from his birth. So short, -so stout, so squared was the whole body, that it looked more like a -cube, with a large head and very short legs, than a human form; but, -though the gait was awkward and unsightly to the eyes, that little -creature was possessed of singular activity, and of very great -strength, notwithstanding his deformity.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was a curious thing to see the father and the son standing -together: the one with his great, powerful, well-developed limbs, and -the other with his minute and apparently slender form. One could -hardly believe that the one was the offspring of the other. Yet so it -was. Maître Simon was the father of that deformed dwarf, whose -appearance would have been quite sufficient to draw the hooting boys -of Paris after him when he appeared in the streets, had not the vigor -and unmerciful severity of his father's arm kept even the little -vagabonds of the most turbulent city in the world in awe.</p> - -<p class="normal">That which might seem most strange, though in reality it was not so at -all, was the doting fondness of the stern, powerful father for that -misshapen child. It seems a rule of Nature, that where she refuses to -any one the personal attractions which, often undeservedly, command -regard, she places in the bosom of some other kindred being that -strong affection which generously gives gratuitously the love for -which there seems so little claim.</p> - -<p class="normal">The father and the son had obtained, first from the boys of the town, -and then from elder people, the nicknames of the big Caboche and the -little Caboche, and, with a good-humor very common in France, they had -themselves adopted these epithets without offense; so that the cutler -was constantly addressed by his companions merely as Caboche, and had -even placed that title over his door. During the hours when he tended -his shop, or was engaged in the manual labors of his trade, the boy -was almost always with him, limping round him, making observations -upon every thing, and enlivening his father's occupations by a sort of -pungent wit, perhaps a little smacking of buffoonery, which, if not a -gift, could be nowhere so well acquired as in the streets of Paris, -and in which the hard spirit of the cutler greatly delighted.</p> - -<p class="normal">Nevertheless, the characters of the father and the son were not less -strongly in contrast than their corporeal frames. Notwithstanding an -occasional moroseness and acerbity, perhaps engendered by a sad -comparison of his own physical powers with those of others of his age, -there was in the boy's nature a fund of kindly sympathies and gentle -affections, which characterized his actions more than his words: and -as we all love contrasts, the secret of his father's strong affection -for him might be, in part, the opposition between their several -dispositions.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was about three o'clock in the day, the hour when Parisians are -most abroad; but the cold kept many within doors, and but one person -had stopped at the booth to buy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Trade is ruined," said big Caboche, in a grumbling tone. "No business -is doing. The king's sickness and his brother's influence have utterly -destroyed the trade of the city. Armorers, and embroiderers, and -dealers in idle goldsmiths' work, may make a living; but no one else -can gain his bread. There has not been a single soul in the shop this -morning, except an old woman who wanted an ax to cut her meat, because -it was frozen."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My father," replied the boy, "it was not the king nor the Duke of -Orleans that made the Seine freeze, or pinched old Joaquim's nose, or -burned old Jeannette's flannel coat, or kept any of the folks in who -would have been out if it had not been so cold. Don't you see there is -nobody in the street but those who have only one coat, and that a thin -one. They come out because the frosty sunshine is better than no shine -at all; and, though they keep their hands in their pockets, they won't -draw them out, because you won't let them have goods without money, -and they have not money to buy goods. But here comes Cousin Martin, as -fine as a popinjay. It must have snowed feathers, I think, to have -clothed his back so gayly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, the scapegrace!" exclaimed Caboche "I should think that he had -just been plundering some empty-headed master, if my pot had not -reason to know that he has had no master to plunder for these last -three months. Well, Master Never-do-well, what brings you here in such -smart plumes? Violet and yellow, with a silver lace, upon my life! If -you are so fully fledged, methinks you can pick up your own grain -without coming to mine."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And so I can, and so I will, uncle," replied our friend Martin -Grille, pausing at the entrance of the booth to look at himself from -head to foot, in evident admiration of his own appearance. "Did you -ever see any thing fit better? Upon my life, it is a perfect marvel -that any man should ever have been made so perfectly like me as to -have worn these clothes before, without the slightest alteration! -Nobody would believe it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nobody will believe they are your own, Cousin Martin," said the -deformed boy, with a grin.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But they are my own, Petit Jean," answered Martin Grille, with a very -grand air; "for I have bought them, and paid for them; and though they -may have been stolen, for aught I know, before I had them, I had no -hand in the stealing, <i>foi de valet</i>."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah," said Caboche, dryly, "men always gave you credit for more -ingenuity than you possess, and they will in this instance also. I -always said you were a good-humored, foolish, hair-brained lad, -without wit enough to take a bird's nest or bamboozle a goose; but -people would not believe me, even when you were clad in hodden gray. -What will they think now, when you dance about in silk and -broadcloth?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why they'll think, good uncle, that I have all the wit they imagined, -and all the honesty you knew me to have. But I'll tell you all about -it, that my own relations, at least, may have cause to glorify -themselves."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Get you gone--get you gone," cried the cutler, in a rough, but not -ill-humored tone. "I don't want to know how you got the clothes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Tell me, Martin, tell me," said the boy; "I should like to hear, of -all things. Perhaps I may get some in the same way, some day."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mayhap," answered Martin Grille, seating himself on a bench, and -kindly putting his arm round the deformed boy's neck. "Well, you must -know, Petit Jean, that there is a certain Signor Lomelini, who is -maître d'hôtel to his highness the Duke of Orleans--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Big Caboche growled out a curse between his teeth; for while -pretending to occupy himself with other things, he was listening to -the tale all the time, and the Duke of Orleans was with him an object -of that strange, fanciful, prejudiced hatred, which men of inferior -station very often conceive, without the slightest cause, against -persons placed above them.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, this Signor Lomelini--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"There, there," cried Caboche; "we know all about that long ago. How -his mule put its foot into a hole in the street, and tumbled him head -over heels into the gutter, and you picked him out, and scraped, and -wiped him, and took him back clean and sound, though desperately -frightened, and a little bruised. We recollect all about that, and -what gay day-dreams you built up, and thought your fortune made. Has -he recollected you at last, and given you a cast off suit of clothes? -He has been somewhat tardy in his gratitude, and niggardly, too."</p> - -<p class="normal">"All wrong, uncle mine, all wrong!" replied Martin Grille, laughing. -"There has been hardly a day on which I have not seen him since, and -when I hav'n't dined with you, I have dined at the Hôtel d'Orleans. He -found out what you never found out: that I was dexterous, serviceable, -and discreet, and many has been the little job which required dispatch -and secrecy which I have done for him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, dirty work, I trow," growled Caboche; but Martin Grille proceeded -with his tale, without heeding his uncle's accustomed interruptions.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, Signor Lomelini always promised," he said, "to get me rated on -the duke's household. There was a prospect for a penniless lad, Petit -Jean!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"As well get you posted in the devil's kitchen," said Caboche, "and -make you Satan's turnspit."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But are you placed--but are you placed?" cried the deformed boy, -eagerly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You shall hear all in good time," answered Martin Grille. "He -promised, as I have said, to get me rated as soon as there was any -vacancy; but the devil seemed in all the people. Not one of them would -die, except old Angelo, the squire of the stirrup, and Monsieur De -Gray, the duke's secretary. But those places were far too high for -me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I see not why they should be," answered the deformed boy, "except -that the squire is expected to fight at his lord's side, and the -secretary to write for him; and I fancy, Cousin Martin, thou wouldst -make as bad a hand at the one as the other."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha, ha, ha!" shouted Caboche; "he hit thee there, Martin."</p> - -<p class="normal">"On my life! I don't know," answered Martin Grille; "for I never tried -either. However, yesterday afternoon the signor sent for me, and told -me that the duke had got a new secretary--quite a young man, who knew -very little of life, less of Paris, and nothing of a court: that this -young gentleman had got no servant, and wanted one; that he had -recommended me, and that I should be taken if I could recommend -myself. I went to him in the gray of the evening, to set off my -apparel the better, but I found the youth not quite so pastoral as I -expected, and he began to ask me questions. Questions are very -troublesome things, and answers still more so; so I made mine as short -as possible."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And he engaged you," cried the boy, eagerly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"On my life! I can hardly say that," replied Martin Grille. "But the -Duke of Orleans himself just happened to come in at the nick of time, -when I was beginning to get a little puzzled. So I thought it best to -take it for granted I was engaged; and making my way as fast as -possible out of the august presence of my master, and my master's -master, I went away to Signor Lomelini and told him I was hired, all -through his influence. So, then, he patted me on the shoulder, and -called me a brave lad. He told me, moreover, to get myself put in -decent costume, and wait upon the young gentleman early the next -morning."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, that's the question," cried Caboche; "where did you get the -clothes? Did you steal them from your new master the first day; for -you will not say that Lomelini gave them to you. If so, men have -belied him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," said Martin, in an exceedingly doubtful tone, "no--I can't say -he exhibits his money. What his own coin is made of, I can not tell. I -never saw any of it that I know of. He pays out of other men's pockets -though, and he has been as good as his word with me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How so?" asked the cutler.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, you must know," answered Martin, with an important air, "that -every servant in the duke's house is rated on the duke's household. -Each gentleman, down to the very pages, has one or more valets, and -they are all on the household-book. To prevent excess, however, and -with a paternal solicitude to keep them out of debt, the maître -d'hôtel takes upon himself the task of paying all the valets, sending -in to the treasurer a regular account against each master every month, -to be deducted from that master's salary; and, as it is the custom to -give earnest to a valet when he is engaged, I persuaded the signor to -advance me a sufficient number of crowns to carry me on silver wings -to a frippery shop."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where you spent the last penny, Cousin Martin," said the deformed -boy, with a sly smile.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, I did not, Petit Jean," replied Martin Grille; "for I brought one -whole crown to you. There, my boy; you are a good lad, and I love you -dearly, though you do break your sharp wit across my hard head -sometimes--take it, take it!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The boy looked as if he would very much like to have the crown, but -still put it away from him, with fingers itching as much to clutch it -as Cæsar's on the Lupercal.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Take it," repeated Martin Grille. "I owe your father much more than -that."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You owe me nothing," answered Caboche, quickly; and then added in a -softened tone, as he saw how eagerly the boy looked at the piece of -money: "you may take it, my son. That will show Martin that I really -think he owes me nothing. What I have given him was given for blood -relationship, and what he gives you is given in the same way."</p> - -<p class="normal">The boy took it, exclaiming, "Thank you, Martin--thank you. Now I will -buy me a viol of my own; for neighbor Pierrot says I spoil his, just -because I make it give out sounds that he can not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, thou had'st always a hankering after music," said Martin Grille. -"Be diligent, be diligent. Petit Jean, and play me a fine tune on your -fiddle at my return; for we are all away to-morrow morning by the crow -of the cock."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where to?" exclaimed Caboche, eagerly. "More wrangling toward, I -warrant. Some day I shall have to put on the salad and corselet -myself, for this strife is ruining France; and if the Duke of Orleans -will not let his noble cousin of Burgundy save the country, all good -men must join to force him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, ay, uncle. You always take a leap in the dark when the Duke of -Orleans' name is mentioned. There's no wrangling, there's no -quarreling, there's no strife. All is peace and good-will between the -two dukes; and this is no patched up business, but a regular treaty, -which will last till you are in your grave, and Petit Jean is an old -man. We shall see bright days yet, for all that's come and gone. But -the truth is, the duke is ill, and this business being happily -settled, he goes off for his Castle of Beauté to-morrow, to have a -little peace and quiet."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ill! what makes him ill?" asked the cutler. "If he had to work from -morning till night to get a few sous, or to stand here in this cold -shop all day long, with nobody coming in to buy, he'd have a right to -be ill. But he has every thing he wants, and more than he ought to -have. What makes him ill?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, that I can't say," answered Martin Grille. "There has something -gone wrong in the household, and he has been very sad; but great men's -servants may use their eyes, but must hold their tongues. God mend us -all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Much need of it," answered Caboche, "and him first. Well, I would -rather be a rag-picker out of the gutter than one of your discreet, -see-every thing, say-nothing serving-men--your curriers of favor, your -silent, secret depositories of other men's wickedness. What I see I -must speak, and what I think, too. It is the basest part of pimping, -to stand by and say nothing. Out upon such a trade."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, uncle, every one loves his own best," answered Martin Grille. -"I, for instance, would not make knives for people to cut each other's -throats with. But for my part, I think the best plan is for each man -to mind his own business, and not to care for what other people do. I -have no more business with my master's secrets than with his purse, -and if he trusts either the one or the other with me, my duty is to -keep them safely."</p> - -<p class="normal">By his tone, Martin Grille seemed a little nettled; but the rough -cutler only laughed at him, saying, "Mind, you do that, nephew of -mine, and you will be the very prince of valets. I never knew one who -would not finger the purse, or betray a secret, if occasion served; -but thou art a phœnix in thy way, so God speed thee and keep thee -honest."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I say amen," answered Martin Grille, turning to leave the booth; "I -only came to wish you both good-by; for when a man once sets out from -Paris there is no knowing when he may return again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, he is certain to come back some time," replied the cutler. "Paris -is the centre of all the world, and every thing is drawn toward it by -a force not to be resisted. So fare you well, my good nephew, and let -us see you when you come back."</p> - -<p class="normal">Martin promised to come and visit the cutler and his son as soon as he -returned, and then sauntered away, feeling himself as fine in his new -clothes as a school-boy in a holiday suit.</p> - -<p class="normal">The cutler resumed his avocations again; but could not forbear some -grumbling observations upon valets and valetry, which perhaps he might -have spared, had he understood his nephew's character rightly. About -quarter of an hour, however, after the young man had left the shop, a -letter, neatly tied and sealed, was brought by a young boy, apparently -one of the choristers of some great church or cathedral. It was -addressed "To Martin Grille;" and, whatever might be his curiosity, -Caboche did not venture to open it, but sent the lad on to the palace -of the Duke of Orleans, telling him he would find his nephew there.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">I know few things more pleasant than a stroll through Paris, -as I -remember it, in a fine early winter's morning. There was an -originality about the people whom one saw out and abroad at that -period of the day--a gay, cheerful, pleasant originality--which is not -met with in any other nation. Granted that this laughing semblance was -but the striped skin of the tiger, and that underneath there was a -world of untamable ferocity, which made the cat-like creature -dangerous to play with; yet still the sight was an agreeable one, one -that the mind's eye rested upon with sensations of pleasure. The -sights, too, had generally something to interest or to amuse--very -often something that moved the feelings; but more generally something -having a touch of the burlesque in it, exciting a smile, though seldom -driving one into a laugh.</p> - -<p class="normal">Doubtless the same was the case on the morning when the Duke of -Orleans and his household set out from his brother's capital; for the -Parisians have always been Parisians, and that word, as far as history -shows us, has always meant one thing. It was very early in the -morning, too. The sun hardly tipped the towers of Nôtre Dame, or -gilded the darker and more sombre masses of the Châtelet. The most -matutinal classes--the gatherers of rags: the unhappy beings who -pilfered daily from unfastened doors and open entries: the peasants -coming into market: the laborers going out with ax or shovel: even the -roasters of chestnuts (coffee was then unknown) were all astir, and -many a merry cry to wake slumbering cooks and purveyors was heard -along the streets of the metropolis. Always cheerful except when -ferocious, the population of Paris was that day in gayer mood than -usual, for the news that a reconciliation had taken place between the -Dukes of Orleans and Burgundy, whose feuds had become wearisome as -well as detrimental, had spread far and wide during the preceding -evening, and men anticipated prosperous and peaceful times, after a -long period of turbulence and disaster. Seldom had the Duke of Orleans -gone forth from the metropolis in such peaceful array. Sometimes he -had galloped out in haste with a small body of attendants, hardly -enough in number to protect his person; sometimes he had marched -forward in warlike guise, to do battle with the enemy. But now he -proceeded quietly in a horse-litter, feeling himself neither very well -nor very ill. His saddle-horse, some pages, squires, and a few -men-at-arms followed close, and the rest of the attendants, who had -been selected to go with him, came after in little groups as they -mounted, two or three at a time. The whole cavalcade did not amount to -more than fifty persons--no great retinue for a prince of those days; -but yet, in its straggling disorder, it made a pretty long line -through the streets, and excited a good deal of attention in the -multitude as it passed. But the distance to the gates was not great, -and the whole party soon issued forth through the very narrow suburbs -which then surrounded the city, into the open country beyond. To tell -the truth, though the whole land was covered with the white garmenture -of winter, it was a great relief to Jean Charost to find his sight no -longer bounded by stone walls, and his chest no longer oppressed by -the heavy air of a great city. The sun sparkling on the snow, the -branches of the trees incrusted with frost, the clear blue sky without -a cloud, the river bridged with its own congealed waters, all reminded -him of early days and happy hours, and filled his mind with the memory -of rejoicing.</p> - -<p class="normal">One or two of the elder and superior officers of the duke's household -had mounted at the same time with himself, and were riding along close -by him. But there was no sympathetic tie between them; they were old, -and he was young; they were hackneyed in courts, and he was -inexperienced; they were accustomed to all the doings of the household -in which he dwelt, and to him every thing was fresh and new. Thus they -soon gathered apart, as it were, though they were perfectly courteous -and polite to the duke's new secretary; for by this time he was known -to all the attendants in that capacity, and the more politic heads -shrewdly calculated upon his acquiring, sooner or later, considerable -influence with their princely master. But they talked among themselves -of things they knew and understood, and of which he was utterly -ignorant; so that he was suffered to ride on with uninterrupted -thoughts, enjoying the wintery beauty of the landscape, while they -conversed of what had happened at St. Denis, or of the skirmish at -Toul, or of the march into Aquitaine, or gossiped a little scandal of -Madame De * * * * and Monsieur De * * * *.</p> - -<p class="normal">Insensibly the young man dropped behind, and might be said to be -riding alone, when an elderly man, in the habit of a priest, ambled up -to his side on a sleek, well-fed mule. His hair was very white, and -his countenance calm and benignant; but there was no very intellectual -expression in his face, and one might have felt inclined to pronounce -him, at the first glance, a very simple, good man, with more rectitude -than wit, more piety than learning. There would have been some mistake -in this, for Jean Charost soon found that he had read much, and -studied earnestly, supplying by perseverance and labor all that was -wanting in acuteness.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good morning, my son," said the old man, in a frank and familiar -tone. "I believe I am speaking to Monsieur De Brecy, am I not? his -highness's secretary."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The same, sir," replied Jean Charost; "though I have not been long in -that office."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know, I know," replied the good priest. "You were commended to his -favor by my good friend Jacques Cœur. I was absent from the palace -till last night, or I would have seen you before. I am his highness's -chaplain and director--would to Heaven I could direct him right; but -these great men--"</p> - -<p class="normal">There he stopped, as if feeling himself treading upon dangerous -ground, and a pause ensued; for Jean Charost gave him no encouragement -to go on in any discussion of the duke's doings, of which probably he -knew as much as his confessor, without any great amount of information -either.</p> - -<p class="normal">The priest continued to jog on by his side, however, turning his head -very frequently, as if afraid of being pursued by something. Once he -muttered to himself, "I do believe he is coming on;" and then added, a -moment after, in a relieved tone, "No, it is Lomelini."</p> - -<p class="normal">They had not ridden far, after this exclamation, when they were joined -by the maître d'hôtel, who seemed on exceedingly good terms with the -chaplain, and rather in a merry mood. "Ah, Father Peter!" he -exclaimed; "you passed me in such haste, you would neither see nor -hear me. What was it lent wings to your mule?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, that fool, that fool!" cried the good father. "He has got on a -black cloak like yours, signor--stolen it from some one, I dare -say--and he declares he is a doctor of the university, and must needs -chop logic with me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What was his thesis?" asked Lomelini, laughing heartily. "He is grand -at an argument, I know; and I have often heard him declare that he -likes to spoil a doctor of divinity."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was no thesis at all," answered Father Peter. "He propounded a -question for debate, and asked me which of the seven capital sins was -the most capital. I told him they were all equally heinous; but he -contended that could not be, and said he would prove it by a -proposition divided into three parts and three members, each part -divided into six points--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let us hear," cried Lomelini. "Doubtless his parts and points were -very amusing. Let us hear them, by all means."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, I did not stay to hear them myself," replied Father Peter. "He -began by explaining and defining the seven capital sins; and fearing -some greater scandal--for all the boys were roaring with laughter--I -rode on and left him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, father, father! He will say that he has defeated you in -argument," replied Lomelini; and then added, with a sly glance at Jean -Charost, "the sharpest weapon in combat with a grave man is a jest."</p> - -<p class="normal">The good father looked quite distressed, as if to be defeated in -argument by a fool were really a serious disgrace. With the natural -kindliness of youth, Jean Charost felt for him, and, turning the -conversation, proceeded to inquire of the maître d'hôtel who and what -was the person who had driven the good chaplain so rapidly from the -field.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, you will become well acquainted with him by-and-by, my son," -answered Lomelini, who still assumed a sort of paternal and -patronizing air toward the young secretary. "They call him the -Seigneur André in the household, and his lordship makes himself known -to every body--sometimes not very pleasantly. He is merely the duke's -fool, however, kept more for amusement than for service, and more for -fashion even than amusement; for at bottom he is a dull fellow; but he -contrives occasionally to stir up the choler of the old gentlemen, -and, when the duke is in a gay humor, makes him laugh with their -anger."</p> - -<p class="normal">"To be angry with a fool is to show one's self little better than a -fool, methinks," answered Jean Charost; but Lomelini shook his head, -with his usual quiet smile, saying, "Do not be too sure that he will -not provoke you, Monsieur De Brecy. He has a vast fund of malice, -though no great fund of wit, and, as you may see, can contrive to -torment very grave and reverend personages. I promised you a hint from -time to time, and one may not be thrown away in regard to Seigneur -André. There are two or three ways of dealing with him which are sure -to put him down. First, the way which Monsieur Blaize takes: never to -speak to him at all. When he addresses any of his witticisms to our -good friend, Monsieur Blaize stares quietly in his face, as if he -spoke to him in an unknown tongue, and takes care not to give him a -single word as a peg to hang a rejoinder upon. Another way is to break -his head, if he be over saucy, for he is mighty careful of his person, -and has never attacked young Juvenel de Royans since he cuffed him one -morning to his heart's content. He has no reverence for any thing, -indeed, but punishment and fisticuffs. He ventured at first to break -his jests on me, for whom, though a very humble personage, his -highness's officers generally have some respect."</p> - -<p class="normal">"May I ask how you put a stop to this practice?" asked Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, very easily," replied the maître d'hôtel. "I listened to all he -had to say quietly, answered him as best I might, a little to the -amusement of the by-standers, and did not fare altogether ill in the -encounter; but Seigneur André found his <i>levrée</i>; for supper somewhat -scanty and poor that night. He had a small loaf of brown bread, a -pickled herring, and some very sour wine. Though it was all in order, -and he had wine, fish, and bread, according to the regulations of the -household for evening <i>levrées</i>, he thought fit to complain to the -master-cook. The cook told him that all his orders were taken from me. -He did not know what to make of this, but was very peaceable for a day -or two afterward. Then he forgot his lesson, and began his -impertinence again. He had another dose that night of brown bread, -salt herring, and vinegar, and it made so deep an impression on his -mind that he has not forgotten it yet."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, I do think it is impious," said Father Peter, in a tone of -melancholy gravity. "I do, indeed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What, to give a fool a pickled herring as a sort of corrective of bad -humors?" asked Lomelini.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no," replied the chaplain, peevishly "But to keep such poor, -benighted creatures in great houses for the purpose of extracting -merriment from their infirmities. It is making a mockery of the -chastisement of God."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pooh, pooh," said Lomelini. "What can you do with them? If you do not -keep them in great houses, you would be obliged to shut them up in -little ones; and, I will answer for it, Seigneur André would rather be -kept as a fool in the palace of the Duke of Orleans than pent up as a -madman in the hospitals. But here he comes to answer for himself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then I won't stay to hear him," cried the chaplain, putting his mule -into a quicker pace, and riding on after the litter of the Duke of -Orleans, which was not above two hundred yards in advance.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There he goes," cried Signor Lomelini. "Poor man! this fool is a -complete bugbear to him. To Father Peter he is like a gnat, or a great -fly, which keeps buzzing about our ears all night, and gives us -neither peace nor rest."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, the personage who had been so long the subject of their -conversation rode up, presenting to the eyes of Jean Charost a very -different sort of man from that which he had expected to see, and, in -truth, a very different personage altogether from the poetical idea of -the jester which has been furnished to us by Shakspeare and others. -Seigneur André, indeed, was not one of the most famous of his class, -and he has neither been embalmed in fiction nor enrolled in history. -The exceptions I believe, in truth have been taken generally for the -types, and if we could trace the sayings and doings of all the jesters -downward from the days of Charlemagne, we should find that nine -out of ten were very dull people indeed. His lordship was a fat, -gross-looking man of the middle age, with a countenance expressive of -a good deal of sensuality--dull and heavy-looking, with a nose glowing -with wine; bushy, overhanging eyebrows, and a fat, liquorish under -lip. His stomach was large and protuberant, and his legs short; but -still he rode his horse with a good, firm seat, though with what -seemed to the eyes of Jean Charost a good deal of affected awkwardness -of manner. There was an expression of fun and joviality about his -face, it is true, which was a very good precursor to a joke, and, like -the sauce of a French cook's composing, which often gives zest to a -very insipid morsel, it made many a dull jest pass for wit. His eye, -indeed, had an occasional fire in it, wild, wandering, mysterious, -lighted up and going out on a sudden, which to a physician might -probably have indicated the existence of some degree of mental -derangement, but which, with ordinary persons, served at once to -excite and puzzle curiosity.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, reverend signor," he exclaimed, as he pulled up his horse by -Lomelini's side, "I am glad to find you so far in advance. It betokens -that all good things of life will be provided for--that we shall not -have to wait three hours at Juvisy for dinner, nor be treated with -goat's flesh and rye bread, sour wine and stale salad."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That depends upon circumstances, Seigneur André," replied Lomelini. -"That his highness shall have a good dinner, I have provided for; but, -good faith, the household must look out for themselves. In any other -weather you would find eggs enough, and the water is generally -excellent, but now it is frozen. But let me introduce you to Monsieur -De Brecy, his highness's secretary."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha! I kiss his fingers," cried the jester. "I asked for him all -yesterday, hearing of his advent, but was not blessed with his -presence. They told me he was in the nursery, and verily he seems a -blessed babe. May I inquire how old you are, Signor De Brecy?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Like yourself, Seigneur André," replied Jean Charost, with a smile; -"old enough to be wiser."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Marvelous well answered!" exclaimed the jester. "The dear infant is a -prodigy! Did you ever see any thing like that?" he continued, throwing -back his black cloak, and exhibiting his large stomach, dressed in his -party-colored garments, almost resting on the saddle-bow.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, often," answered Jean Charost. "I have seen it in men too lazy -to keep down the flesh, too fond of good things to refrain from what -is killing them, and too dull in the brain to let the wit ever wear -the body."</p> - -<p class="normal">A sort of wild, angry fire came up in the jester's face, and he -answered, "Let me tell you there is more wit in that stomach than ever -you can digest."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps so," answered Jean Charost. "I doubt not in the least you -have more brain under your belt than under your cap; but it is -somewhat soft, I should think, in both places."</p> - -<p class="normal">Signor Lomelini laughed, but at the same time made a sign to his young -companion to forbear, saying, in a low tone, "He won't forgive you -easily, already. Don't provoke him farther. Here we are coming to that -accursed hill of Juvisy, Seigneur André. Don't you see the town lying -down there, like an egg in the nest of a long-tailed titmouse?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Or like a bit of sugar left at the bottom of a bowl of mulled wine," -replied the jester. "But, be it egg or be it sugar, the horses of his -highness seem inclined to get at it very fast."</p> - -<p class="normal">His words first called the attention of both Lomelini and Jean Charost -to what was going on before them, and the latter perceived with dismay -that the horses in the litter--a curious and ill-contrived sort of -vehicle--which had been going very slowly till they reached the top of -the high hill of Juvisy, had begun to trot, and then to canter, and -were now in high course toward a full gallop. The man who drove them, -usually walking at the side, was now running after them as fast as he -could go, and apparently shouting to them to stop, though his words -were as unheeded by the horses as unheard by Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Had we not better ride on and help?" asked the young gentleman, -eagerly.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lomelini shrugged his shoulders, replying, with a sort of fatalism -hardly less ordinary in Italians than in Turks, "What will be, will -be;" and the jester answered, "Good faith! though they call me fool, -yet I have as much regard for my skin as any of them; so I shall not -trot down the hill."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost hardly heard the end of the sentence, for he saw that the -horses of the litter were accelerating their pace at every instant, -and he feared that some serious accident would happen. The duke was -seen at the same moment to put forth his head, calling sharply to the -driver, and the young secretary, without more ado, urged his horse on -at the risk of his own neck, and, taking a little circuit which the -broadness of the road permitted, tried to reach the front horse of the -litter without scaring him into greater speed. He passed two groups of -the duke's attendants before he came near the vehicle, but all seemed -to take as much or as little interest in their master's safety as -Lomelini and the jester, uttering, as the young man passed, some wild -exclamations of alarm at the duke's peril, but taking no means on -earth to avert it.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost did not pause or stop to inquire, however, but dashed on, -passed the litter, and got in front of the horses just at the moment -that one of them stumbled and fell.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a steep, precipitous descent over the hillside, as the old -road ran, down which there was the greatest possible risk of the -vehicle being thrown; but, luckily, one of the shafts broke, and Jean -Charost was in time to prevent the horse from doing any further -damage, as he sprang up from his bleeding knees.</p> - -<p class="normal">While the young man, jumping from the saddle, held the horses tight by -the bridle, the driver and half a dozen attendants hurried up and -assisted the prince to alight. Their faces were now pale and anxious -enough; but the countenance of the duke himself was as calm and -tranquil as if he had encountered no danger. Lomelini and the jester -were soon upon the spot; and the latter thought fit to remark, with a -sagacious air, that haste spoiled speed. "Your highness went too -fast," he said; "and this young gentleman went faster still. You were -likely to be at the bottom of the hill of Juvisy before you desired -it, and he had nearly sent you thither sooner still in trying to stop -you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are mistaken, Seigneur André," said the duke, gravely. "The horse -fell before he touched it; and even had it not been so, I would always -rather see too much zeal than too little. He came in time, however, to -prevent the litter going over."</p> - -<p class="normal">Two of the squires instantly led forward horses for the prince to -ride, as the litter, in its damaged state, was no longer serviceable. -But the duke replied, "No, I will walk. Give me your arm, De Brecy; it -is but a step now."</p> - -<p class="normal">The little accident which had occurred undoubtedly served to confirm -Jean Charost in the favor of the Duke of Orleans; but, at the same -time, it made him a host of enemies. The tenants of a wasp's nest are -probably not half as malicious as the household of a great man. The -words of the jester had given them their cue, and the report ran -through all the little cavalcade that Jean Charost had thrown the -horse down in attempting to stop it.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">There are periods in the life of every man daring which -accidents, -misadventures, annoyances even, if they be not of too great magnitude, -are of service to him. When, from within or from without, some dark -vapor has risen up, clouding the sunlight, and casting the soul into -darkness--when remorse, or despair, or bitter disappointment, or -satiety, or the dark pall of grief, has overshadowed all things, and -left us in a sort of twilight, where we see every surrounding object -in gloom, we bless the gale, even though it be violent, that arises to -sweep the tempest-cloud from our sky. Still greater is the relief when -any thing of a gentler and happier kind comes along with the breeze -that dispels the mists and darkness, like a sun-gleam through a storm; -and the little accident which had occurred, and the escape from -danger, did a great deal to rouse the Duke of Orleans from a sort of -apathetic heaviness which had hung upon him for the last two or three -days.</p> - -<p class="normal">Dinner had been prepared for him at the great inn at Juvisy; but, with -one of those whims in which high and mighty princes indulged -frequently in those days, he paused before the gates of the old abbey, -on the left hand side of the road, saying, in a low tone, to Jean -Charost, but with a gay smile, "We will go in and dine with the good -fathers. They are somewhat famous for their cheer, and it must be -about the dinner hour."</p> - -<p class="normal">The little crowd of attendants had followed; slowly behind their -princely master, leaving the distance of a few paces between him and -them, for reverence' sake; and he now beckoned up Lomelini, and told -him to go forward and let the household dine, adding, "We will dine at -the abbey."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How many shall remain with your highness?" asked Lomelini, with a -profound bow.</p> - -<p class="normal">"None, signor," replied the duke; "none but Monsieur De Brecy. Go -on--I would be incognito;" and turning up the path, he struck the bell -at the gates with the iron hammer that hung beside it.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now, De Brecy," he said, in a light and careless tone, very different -from any his young companion had ever heard him use before, "here we -forget our names and dignities. I am Louis Valois, and you Jean -Charost, and there are no titles of honor between us. Some of the good -friars may have seen me, and perhaps know me; but they will take the -hint, and forget all about me till I am gone. I would fain see them -without their frocks for awhile. It will serve to divert my thoughts -from sadder things."</p> - -<p class="normal">With a slow and faltering step, and mumbling something, apparently not -very pleasant, as he came, an old monk walked down to the <i>grille</i>; or -iron gate of the convent, with the keys in his hand indeed, but an -evident determination not to use them, except in case of necessity. -Seeing two strangers standing at the gate, he first spoke with them -through the bars, and it required some persuasion to induce him to -open and let them pass, although, to say sooth, the duke's -announcement that he came to ask the hospitality of the refectory, was -spoken more as a command than a petition, notwithstanding the air of -easy familiarity which he sought to give it.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well; come in," he said, at length; "I have nothing to do with -it, but to open and shut the door. The people within will tell you -whether you can eat with them or not. They eat enough themselves, God -wot, and drink too; but they are not over-fond of sharing with those -they don't know, except through the buttery hole or the east wicket; -and there it is only what they can't eat themselves. Ay, we had -different times of it when Abbot Jerome was alive."</p> - -<p class="normal">Before the long fit of grumbling was at an end, the Duke of Orleans -and his young companion were at the inner door of the building; and a -little bell, ringing from a distant corner, gave notice that the -mid-day meal of the monks was about to begin.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come along--come along, Jean," said the duke, seeming to participate -in the eagerness with which several monks were hurrying along in one -direction; "they say the end of a feast is better than the beginning -of a fray; but, to say truth, the beginning is the best part of -either."</p> - -<p class="normal">On they went; no one stopped them--no one said a word to them. The -impulse of a very voracious appetite was upon the great body of the -monks, and deprived them of all inclination to question the strangers, -till they were actually at the door of the refectory, where a burly, -barefooted fellow barred the way, and demanded what they wanted. "A -dinner," answered the Duke of Orleans, with a laugh. "You are -hospitable friars, are you not?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The man gazed at him for a moment without reply, but with a very -curious expression of countenance, ran his eye over the duke's -apparel, which, though by no means very splendid, was marked by all -the peculiar fopperies of high station; then gave a glance at Jean -Charost, and then replied, in a much altered tone, "We are, sir. But -it so happens that to-day my lord abbot has visitors who dine here. -Doubtless he will not refuse you hospitality, if you let him know who -it is demands it. He has with him Monsieur and Madame Giac, and their -train, high persons at the court of Burgundy. Who shall I say are -here?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Two poor simple gentlemen in need of a dinner," replied the duke, in -a careless tone--"Louis Valois and Jean Charost by name. But make -haste, good brother, or the pottage will be cold."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man retired into the refectory, the door of which was continually -opening and shutting as the monks passed in; and Jean Charost, who -stood a little to the right of the duke, could see the monk hurry -forward toward a gay party already seated at the head of one of the -long tables, with the abbot in the midst.</p> - -<p class="normal">He returned in a few seconds with another monk, and ushered the duke -and his young companion straight up to the table of the abbot, an -elderly man of jovial aspect, who seemed a little confused and -embarrassed. He rose, sat down again, rose, once more, and advanced a -step or two.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Duke of Orleans met him half way with a meaning smile, and a few -words passed in a low tone, the import of which Jean Charost did not -hear. The duke, however, immediately after, moved to a vacant seat -some way down the table, and beckoned Jean Charost to take a place -beside him. The young secretary obeyed, and had a full opportunity, -before a somewhat long grace was ended, of scanning the faces of the -guests who sat above him.</p> - -<p class="normal">On the abbot's right hand was a gentleman of some forty years of age, -gayly dressed, but of a countenance by no means prepossessing, cold, -calculating, yet harsh; and next to him was placed a young girl of -some thirteen or fourteen years of age, not at that time particularly -remarkable for her beauty, but yet with an expression of countenance -which, once seen, was not easily to be forgotten. That expression is -difficult to be described, but it possessed that which, as far as we -can judge from very poor and not very certain portraits, was much -wanting in the countenances of most French women of the day. There was -soul in it--a look blending thought and feeling--with much firmness -and decision even about the small, beautiful mouth, but a world of -soft tenderness in the eyes.</p> - -<p class="normal">On the other side of the abbot sat a gay and beautiful lady, in the -early prime of life, with her face beaming with witching smiles; and -Jean Charost could not help thinking he saw a very meaning glance pass -between the Duke of Orleans and herself. No one at the table, indeed, -openly recognized the prince; and, although the young secretary had -little doubt that his royal master was known to more than one there -present, it was clear the great body of the monks were ignorant that -he was among them.</p> - -<p class="normal">The fare upon the table did not by any means belie the reputation of -the convent. Delicate meats, well cooked; fish in abundance, and of -various kinds; game of every sort the country produced; and wine of -exceedingly delicate flavor, showed how completely field, forest, -tank, and vineyard were laid under tribute by the good friars of -Juvisy. Nor did the monks seem to mortify their tongues more than the -rest of their bodies. Merriment, revelry--sometimes wit, sometimes -buffoonery--and conversation, often profane, and often obscene, ran -along the table without any show of reverence for ears that might be -listening. The young man had heard of such things, but had hardly -believed the tale; and not a little scandalized was he, in his -simplicity, at all he saw and heard. That which confounded him more -than all the rest, however, was the demeanor of the Duke of Orleans. -He did not know how often painful feelings and sensations take refuge -in things the most opposite to themselves--how grief will strive to -drown itself in the flood of revelry--how men strive to sweeten the -cup of pain with the wild honey-drops of pleasure. From the first -moment of his introduction to the duke up to that hour, he had seen -him under but one aspect. He had been grave, sad, thoughtful, gloomy. -Health itself had seemed affected by some secret sorrow; and now every -thing was changed in a moment. He mingled gayly, lightly in the -conversation, gave back jest for jest with flashing repartee, -encouraged and shared in the revelry around him, and drank liberally, -although there was a glowing spot in his cheek which seemed to say -there was a fire within which wanted no such feeding.</p> - -<p class="normal">The characters around would bear a long description; for monastic -life--begun generally when habits of thought were fixed--had not the -power ascribed by a great orator to education, of dissolving the -original characters of men, and recrystallizing them in a different -form. At one part of the table there was the rude broad jester, -rolling his fat body within his wide gown, and laughing riotously at -his own jokes. At a little distance sat the keen bright satirist, full -of flashes of wit and sarcasm, but as fond of earthly pleasures as all -the rest; and a little nearer was the man of sly quiet humor, as grave -as a judge himself, but causing all around him to roar with laughter. -The abbot, overflowing with the good things of this life, and enjoying -them still with undiminished powers, notwithstanding the sixty years -and more which had passed over his head, was evidently well accustomed -to the somewhat irreverent demeanor of his refectory, and probably -might not have relished his dinner without the zest of its jokes. -Certain it is, at all events, though his own parlor was a more -comfortable room, and universal custom justified his dining in -solitude, he was seldom absent at the hour of dinner, and only -abstained from being present at supper likewise, lest he should hear -and see more than could be well passed over in safety.</p> - -<p class="normal">When the meal was at an end, however, the abbot rose, and, inviting -his lay guests to his own particular apartments, left his monks to -conduct the exercises of the afternoon as they might think fit. With -his cross-bearer before him, he led the way, followed by the rest in -the order which the narrowness of the passages compelled them to take; -and Jean Charost found himself coupled, for the time, with the young -girl he had seen on the opposite side of the table. He was too much of -a Frenchman to hesitate for a moment in addressing her; for, in that -country, silence in a woman's society is generally supposed to proceed -either from awkwardness or rudeness. She answered with as little -constraint; and they were in the full flow of conversation when they -entered a well-tapestried room, which, though large in itself, seemed -small after the great hall of the refectory.</p> - -<p class="normal">The abbot, and the nobleman who had sat by his side, in whom Jean -Charost recognized the Monsieur De Giac whom he had seen by torch-light -in the streets of Paris, were already talking to each other with some -eagerness, while the Duke of Orleans followed a step or two behind, -conversing in low tones with the beautiful lady who had sat upon the -abbot's other hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">Gay and light seemed their conference; and both laughed, and both -smiled, and both whispered, but not apparently from any reverence for -the persons or place around them. But no one took any notice. Monsieur -De Giac was very blind to his wife's coquetry, and the abbot was well -accustomed to the feat of shutting his eyes without dropping his -eyelids. Nay, he seemed to think the merriment hardly sufficient for -the occasion; for he ordered more wines to be brought, and those the -most choice and delicate of his cellar, with various preserved fruits, -gently to stimulate the throat to deeper potations.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not very reverend," said Jean Charost, in answer to some observation -of the young lady, shortly after they entered, while the rest remained -scattered about in different groups. "I wonder if every monastery -throughout France is like this."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Very like, indeed," answered his fair companion, with a smile. -"Surely this is not the first religious house you have ever visited."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The first of its kind," replied Jean Charost; "I have been often in -the Black Friars at Bourges, but their rule is somewhat more austere, -or more austerely practiced."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Poor people," said the girl. "It is to be hoped there is a heaven, -for their sakes. These good folks seem to think themselves well enough -where they are, without going further. But in sorry truth, all -monasteries are very much like this--those that I have seen, at -least."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And nunneries?" asked Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Somewhat better," she answered, with a sigh. "Whatever faults women -may have, they are not such coarse ones as we have seen here to-night; -but I know not much about them, for I have been long enough in one -only to judge of it rightly; and now I feel like a bird with its -prison doors unclosed, because I am going to join the court of the -Queen of Anjou: that does not speak ill of the nunnery, methinks. Who -knows, if they reveled as loud and high there as here, but I might -have loved to remain."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think not," answered her young companion, "if I may judge by your -face at dinner. You seemed not to smile on the revels of the monks."</p> - -<p class="normal">"They made my head ache," answered the girl; and then added, abruptly, -"so you are an observer of faces, are you? What think you of that face -speaking with the abbot?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, he may be your father, brother, or any near relation," answered -Jean Charost. "I shall not speak till I know more."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, he is nothing to me," replied the girl. "He is my noble Lord of -Giac, who does me the great honor, with my lady, his wife, of -conveying me to Beaugency, where we shall overtake the Queen of Anjou. -His face would not curdle milk, nor turn wine sour; but yet there is -something in it not of honey exactly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He seems to leave all the honey to his fair lady," replied Jean -Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, to catch flies with," replied the girl; and then she added, in a -lower tone, "and he is the spider to eat them."</p> - -<p class="normal">The wine and the preserved fruits had by this time been placed upon a -large marble table in the centre of the hall; and a fair sight they -made, with the silver flagons, and the gold and jeweled cups, spread -out upon that white expanse, beneath the gray and fretted arches -overhead, while on the several groups around in their gay apparel, and -the abbot in his robes, standing by the table, with a serving brother -at his side, the many-colored light shone strongly through the window -of painted glass.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here's to you, noble sir, whom I am to call Louis Valois, and to your -young friend, Jean Charost," said the abbot, bowing to the duke, and -raising a cup he had just filled. "I pray you do me justice in this -excellent wine of Nuits."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will but sip, my lord," replied the duke, taking up a cup. "I have -drank enough already somewhat to heat me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay, good gentleman," cried the fair lady with whom he had been -talking, "let me fill for you! Drink fair with the lord abbot, for -very shame, or I will inform the Duke of Orleans, who passes here, -they say, to-day."</p> - -<p class="normal">The last words were uttered with a meaning smile; but the duke let her -pour the wine out for him, drank it down, and then, with a graceful -inclination to the company, took a step toward the door, saying, "The -Duke of Orleans has gone by, madam. At least, his train passed us -while we were at the gates. My lord abbot, I give you a thousand -thanks for your hospitality. Ladies all, farewell;" and then passing -Madame De Giac, he added, in a whisper, which reached, however, the -ears of Jean Charost who was following. "In Paris, then."</p> - -<p class="normal">The lady made no answer with her lips; but her eyes spoke -sufficiently, and to the thoughts of Jean Charost somewhat too much.</p> - -<p class="normal">The serving brother opened the door of the parlor for the guests to -pass out, and he had not yet closed it, when the name of the Duke of -Orleans was repeated from more than one voice within, and a merry peal -of laughter followed.</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke hastened his steps, holding the arm of his young companion; -and though the smile still lingered on his lips for awhile, yet before -they had reached the gate of the convent, it had passed away. -Gradually he fell into a fit of deep thought, which lasted till they -nearly descended to Juvisy. Then, however, he roused himself, and -said, with an abrupt laugh, "I sometimes think men of pleasure are -mad, De Brecy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think so too, your highness," replied Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke started, and looked suddenly in his face; but all was calm -and simple there; and, after a moment's silence, the prince rejoined, -"Too true, my young friend; too true! A lucid interval often comes -upon them, full of high purposes and good resolves: they see light, -and truth, and reality for a few short hours, when suddenly some -accident--some trifle brings the fit again, and all is darkness and -delusion, delirious dreams, and actions of a madman. I have heard of a -bridge built of broken porcelain; and such is the life of a man of -pleasure. The bridge over which his course lies, from time to -eternity, is built of broken resolutions, and himself the architect."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A frail structure, my lord, by which to reach heaven," replied Jean -Charost, "and methinks some strong beams across would make us surer of -even reaching earthly happiness."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where can one find them?" asked the duke.</p> - -<p class="normal">"In a strong will," answered Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke mused for a moment or two, and then suddenly changed the -conversation, saying, "Who was the girl you were speaking with?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"In truth, your highness, I do not know," replied Jean Charost. "She -said that she was going, under the escort of Monsieur and Madame De -Giac, to Beaugency."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, then, I know," replied the duke. "It is the fair Agnes, whom my -good aunt talked about. They say she has a wit quite beyond her years. -Did you find it so?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can not tell," replied Jean Charost, "for I do not know her age. -She seemed to me quite a girl; and yet spoke like one who thought much -and deeply."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You were well matched," said the duke, gayly; and, at the same -moment, some of his attendants came up, and the conversation stopped -for the time.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The cool twilight of a fine winter's evening filled the air as -the -train of the Duke of Orleans approached his château of Beauté. -Standing on a high bank, with the river flowing in sight, and catching -the last rosy rays, which still lingered in the sky after the sun was -set, the house presented a grand, rather than a graceful appearance, -though it was from the combination of beautiful forms and rich -decoration with the defensive strength absolutely requisite in all -country mansions at that day, that it derived its name of Beauté. The -litter had been repaired at Juvisy, and the Duke of Orleans had taken -possession of it again; but as the cavalcade wound up the ascent -toward the castle, the prince put his head out, and ordered one of the -nearest attendants to call Lomelini to him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am ill, Lomelini," he said, as soon as the maître d'hôtel rode up; -"I am ill. Go forward and see that my bed-chamber is prepared."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Had I not better send back for your highness's chirurgeon?" asked -Lomelini. "'Tis a pity he was left behind in Paris."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no," replied the prince; "let him stay where he is. He overwhelms -me with his talk of phlebotomy and humors, his calculations of the -moon, and his caption of fortunate hours. 'Tis but a little sickness -that will pass. Besides, there is the man at Corbeil. He can let -blood, or compound a cooling potion."</p> - -<p class="normal">As soon as the cavalcade had entered the court-yard of the château, the -duke was assisted from his litter, and retired at once to his chamber, -leaning upon the arm of Lomelini, who was all attention and humble -devotion. The rest of the party then scattered in different -directions, most of those present knowing well where to betake -themselves, and each seeking the dwelling-place to which he was -accustomed. Jean Charost, however, had no notion where he was to -lodge, and now, for the first time, came into play the abilities of -his new servant, Martin Grille. His horses were stabled in a -minute--whether in the right place or not, Martin stopped not to -inquire--and, the moment that was done, divining well the -embarrassment of an inexperienced master, the good man darted hither -and thither, acquiring very rapidly, from the different varlets and -pages, a vast amount of information regarding the château and its -customs.</p> - -<p class="normal">He found Jean Charost walking up and down a large hall, which opened -directly, without any vestibule, from the principal door of entrance, -and plunged so deeply was he in meditation, that he seemed to see none -of the persons who were passing busily to and fro around him. The -revery was deep, and something more: it was not altogether pleasant. -Who, in the cares and anxieties of mature life, does not sometimes -pause and look back wistfully to the calmer days of childhood, decking -them with fanciful memories of joys and sports, and burying in -forgetfulness the troubles and sorrows which seemed severe at the -time. The two spirits that are in man, indeed, never exercise their -influence more strongly in opposition than in prompting the desire for -peace, and the eagerness for action.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost was busy at the moment with the unprofitable, fruitless -comparison of the condition in which he had lately lived and his -present station. The calm and tranquil routine of ordinary business; -the daily occupation, somewhat monotonous, but without anxiety, or -even expectation; the peaceful hours for study, for thought, or for -exercise, when not engaged in the service of no very exacting master, -acquired a new and extraordinary interest in his eyes now that -ambition was gratified, and he appeared to be in the road to honor and -success. It was not that he was tired of the Duke of Orleans's -service: it was not that he misappreciated the favors he received, or -the kindness with which he had been treated; but the look back or the -look forward makes a great difference in our estimate of events and -circumstances, and he felt that full appreciation of the past which -nothing that is not past can altogether command. Yet, if he strove to -fix upon any point in regard to which he had been disappointed, he -found it difficult to do so. But there was something in the whole -which created in his breast a general feeling of depression. There was -a sensation of anxiety, and doubt, and suspicion in regard to all that -surrounded him. A dim sort of mist of uncertainty hung over the whole, -which, to his daylight-loving mind, was very painful. One half of what -he saw or heard he did not comprehend. Men seemed to be speaking in a -strange, unlearned language--to be acting a mystery, the secret of -which would not be developed till near the end; and he was pondering -over all these things, and asking himself how he should act in the -midst of them, when Martin Grille approached, and, in a low tone, told -him all that he had discovered, offering to show him where the -secretary's apartments were situated.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But can I be sure that the same rooms are destined for me?" asked -Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Take them, sir, take them," answered Martin Grille; "that is to say, -if they are good, and suit you. The only quality that is not valued at -a court is modesty. It is always better to seize what you can get, and -the difficulty of dispossessing you, nine times out of ten, makes men -leave you what you have taken. Signor Lomelini is still with the duke; -so that you can ask him no questions. You must be lodged some where, -so you had better lodge yourself."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost thought the advice was good, especially as night had by -this time fallen, and a single cresset in the hall afforded the only -light, except when some one passed by with a lamp in his hand. He -followed Martin Grille, therefore, and was just issuing forth, when -Juvenel de Royans, and another young man of the same age, came in by -the same door out of which he was going. At the sight of the young -secretary, De Royans drew back with a look of affected reverence, and -a low inclination of the head, and then burst into a loud laugh. Jean -Charost gazed at him with a cold, unmoved look, expressive, perhaps, -of surprise, but nothing else, and then passed on his way.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Those gentlemen will bring themselves into trouble before they have -done," said Martin Grille. "That Monsieur De Royans is already deep in -the bad books."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No deeper than he deserves," answered Jean Charost. "But perhaps they -may find they have made a mistake before they have done."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, good sir, never quarrel with a courtier," said the servant. "They -are like wary fencers, and try to put a man in a passion in order to -throw him off his guard. But here are your rooms, at the end of this -passage. That door is the back entrance to the duke's apartments. The -front is on the other corridor."</p> - -<p class="normal">With some lingering still of doubt, Jean Charost took possession of -the rooms, which he found more convenient than those he had inhabited -in Paris, and, by the aid of Martin Grille, all was speedily put in -order. The hour of supper soon arrived, and, descending to the general -table of the household, he found a place reserved for him by Monsieur -Blaize, but a good deal of strange coldness in the manners of all -around. Even the old <i>écuyer</i>; himself was somewhat distant and -reserved; and it was not till long afterward that Jean Charost -discovered how much malice any marks of favor from a prince can -excite, and to how much falsehood such malice may give birth. His -attempt to stop the horses of the litter had been severely commented -on, as an act of impertinent forwardness, by all those who ought to -have done it themselves; and they and every one else agreed, -notwithstanding the duke's own words, that the attempt had only served -to throw one of the horses down. The only person who seemed cordial at -the table was the good priest, Father Peter; but the chaplain could -afford very little of his conversation to his young friend, being -himself, during the whole meal, the butt of the jester's wit, to which -he could not refrain from replying, although, to say sooth, he got -somewhat worsted in the encounter. All present were tired, however, -and all retired soon to rest, with the exception of Jean Charost, who -sat up in his bed-room for two or three hours, laying out for himself -a course of conduct which would save him, as far as possible, from all -minor annoyances. Nor was that course altogether ill devised for the -attainment of even higher objects than he proposed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will live in this household," he thought, "as far as possible, by -myself. I will seek my own amusements apart, if I can but discover at -what time the duke is likely to want me. Any who wish for my society -shall seek it, and I will, keep all familiarity at a distance. I will -endeavor to avoid all quarrels with them; but, if I am forced into -one, I will try to make my opponent rue it."</p> - -<p class="normal">At an early hour on the following morning the young man went forth to -inquire after the duke's health, and learned from one of the -attendants at his door that he had passed a bad and feverish night. "I -was bidden to tell you, sir," said the man, "if you presented -yourself, that his highness would like to see you at three this -evening, but will not want you till then."</p> - -<p class="normal">This intimation was a relief to Jean Charost; and, returning to his -room, where he had left Martin Grille, he told him to prepare both -their horses for along ride.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Before breakfast, sir?" asked the man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, immediately," replied the young secretary. "We will breakfast -somewhere, Martin, and dine somewhere too; but I wish to explore the -country, which seemed beautiful enough as we rode along."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Monstrous white, sir," replied Martin Grille. "However, you had -better take some arms with you, for we may chance to miss the -high-road, I being in no way topographical. The country in this -neighborhood does not bear the best reputation."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost laughed at his fears, and ere half an hour was over they -were on their horses' backs and away. The morning was bright and -pleasant, notwithstanding the keen frostiness of the air. Not a breath -of wind stirred the trees, and the sun was shining cheerfully, though -his rays had no effect upon the snow. There was a silence, too, over -the whole scene, as soon as the immediate vicinity of the castle was -passed, which was pleasant to Jean Charost, cooped up as he had been -for several months previously in the close atmosphere of a town. From -a slow walk, he urged his horse on into a trot, from a trot into a -canter, and when at length the wood which mantled the castle was -passed, and the road opened out upon the rounded side of the hill, -boyhood's fountain of light spirits seemed reopened in his heart, and -he urged his horse on into a wild gallop over the nearly level ground -at the top.</p> - -<p class="normal">Martin Grille came panting after. He was not one of the best horsemen -in the world, and, though he clung pretty fast to his steed's back, he -was awfully shaken. That gay gallop, however, had a powerful moral -effect upon the good varlet. Bad horsemen have always a great -reverence for good ones. Martin Grille's esteem for his master's -talents had been but small before, simply because his own worldly -experience, his intimate knowledge of all tricks and contrivances, and -the facile impudence and fertility of resources, which he possessed as -the hereditary right of a Parisian of the lower orders, had enabled -him to direct and counsel in a thousand trifles which had embarrassed -Jean Charost simply because he had been unaccustomed to deal with -them. But now, when Martin saw his easy mastery of the strong horse, -and the light rein, the graceful seat, the joyous hilarity of aspect -with which the young man bounded along, while he himself was clinging -tight to the saddle with a fearful pressure, the sight made him feel -an inferiority which he had never acknowledged to himself before.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, Jean Charost stopped, looked round and smiled, and Martin -Grille, riding up, exclaimed, in a half-dolorous half-laughing tone, -"Spare me, sir, I beseech you. You forget I am not accustomed to such -wild capers. Every man is awkward, I find, in a new situation; and -though I can get on pretty well at procession pace, if my horse -neither kicks nor stumbles, I would rather be excused galloping over -hillsides, for a fortnight at least, till my leather and his leather -are better acquainted."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well," answered his master, "we will go a little more slowly, -though we must have a canter now and then, if but to make the snow -fly. We will ride on straight for that village where the church tower -is peeping up over the opposite side of the hill."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is a thick wood between us and it," said Martin Grille.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Doubtless the wood has a road through it," answered his master; and, -without further discussion, rode on.</p> - -<p class="normal">The wood, or rather forest--for it was a limb of the great forest of -Corbeil--of which Martin Grille spoke, lay in the hollow between two -gentle ranges of hills, upon one of which he and his master were -placed at the moment. It was deeper, more extensive, and more -intricate than it had appeared to Jean Charost, seeing across from -slope to slope, but not high enough to look down upon it as a map. As -he directed his horse toward it, however, he soon came upon a road -marked out by the track of horses, oxen, and carts, showing that many -a person and many a vehicle had passed along it since the snow had -fallen; and even had he clearly comprehended that his servant really -entertained any apprehensions at all, he would only have laughed at -them.</p> - -<p class="normal">On entering the wood, the snow upon the ground, shining through the -bare stems of the trees and the thin, brown branches of the underwood, -at first showed every object on either hand for several yards into the -thicket. Even the footprints of the hare and the roe-deer could be -seen; and Jean Charost, well accustomed to forest sports in his -boyhood, paused at one spot, where the bushes were a good deal beaten -down, to point out the marks to his servant, and say, "A boar has been -through here."</p> - -<p class="normal">Some way further on, the wood became thicker, oaks and rapidly -deciduous trees gave way to the long-persistent beech; and beneath the -tall patriarchs of the forest, which had been suffered to grow up -almost beyond maturity, a young undergrowth, reserved for firewood, -and cut every thirteen or fourteen years, formed a screen into which -the eye could not penetrate more than a very few feet. Every here and -there, too, were stunted evergreens thickening the copse, and bearing -upon their sturdy though dwarfish arms many a large mass of snow which -they had caught in its descent toward the ground. Across the road, in -one place, was a solid mass of ice, which a few weeks before had been -running in a gay rivulet; and not twenty yards further was a little -stream of beautiful, limpid water, without a trace of congelation, -except a narrow fringe of ice on either bank.</p> - -<p class="normal">Here Jean Charost pulled up his horse, and then, slackening the rein, -let the beast put down his head to drink. Martin Grille did so -likewise; but a moment after both heard a sound of voices speaking at -some little distance on the left.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hark! hark!" whispered Martin Grille. "There are people in the -wood--in the very heart of the wood."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, where would you find woodmen but in the wood?" asked Jean -Charost. "You will hear their axes presently."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I hope we shall not feel them," said Martin Grille, in the same low -tone. "I declare that the only fine wood scenery I ever saw has been -at the back of the fire."</p> - -<p class="normal">"They have got a fire there," said Jean Charost, pointing onward, but -a little to the left. "Don't you see the blue smoke curling up through -the trees into the clear, cool air?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do indeed, sir," said Martin Grille. "Pray, sir, let us turn back. -It's not half so pretty as a smoky chimney."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Are you a coward?" asked Jean Charost, turning somewhat sharply upon -him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, sir," replied Martin, meekly: "desperate--I have an uncle who -fights for all the family."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then stay where you are, or go back if you like," replied his master. -"I shall go and see who these folks are. You had better go back, if -you are afraid."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, sir--no, sir," replied Martin Grille. "I am afraid--very much -afraid--but I won't go back. I'll stay by you if I have my brains -knocked out--though, good faith, they are not much worth knocking just -now, for they feel quite addled--curd--curd; and a little whey, too, I -have a notion. But go on, sir; go on. They are not worth keeping if -they are not worth losing."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost rode on, with a smile, pitying the man's fears, but -believing them to be perfectly idle and foolish. The district of -Berri, his native place, had hitherto escaped, in a great degree, the -calamities which for years had afflicted the neighborhood of Paris. -There was too little to be got there, for the plundering bands, which -had sprung up from the dragon's teeth sown by the wars of Edward the -Third of England and Philip and John of France, or those which had -arisen from the contentions between the Orleans and Burgundian -parties, to infest the neighborhood of Bourges; and while the -Parisian, with his mind full of tales brought daily into the capital -of atrocities perpetrated in its immediate vicinity, fancied every -bush, not an officer, but a thief, his young master could hardly bring -himself to imagine that there was such a thing as danger in riding -through a little wood within less than half a league of the château of -the Duke of Orleans.</p> - -<p class="normal">He went on then, in full confidence, for some fifty or sixty yards -further; but then suddenly stopped, and raised his hand as a sign for -his servant to do so likewise. Martin Grille almost jumped out of the -saddle, on his master's sudden halt, and drew so deep a snorting sort -of sigh that Jean Charost whispered, with an impatient gesture, -"Hush!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The fact was, his ears had caught, as they rode on, a sound coming -from the direction where rose the smoke, which did not altogether -satisfy him. It was an exceedingly blasphemous oath--in those days, -common enough in the mouths of military men, and not always a stranger -to the lips of kings, but by no means likely to be uttered by a plain -peasant or honest wood-cutter.</p> - -<p class="normal">He listened again: more words of similar import were uttered. It was -evident that the approach of horses over the snow had not been heard, -and that, whoever were the persons in the wood, they were conversing -together very freely, and in no very choice language.</p> - -<p class="normal">Curiosity seized upon Jean Charost, who was by no means without his -faults, and, quietly swinging himself from his horse's back, he gave -the rein to Martin Grille, saying, in a whisper, "Here, hold my horse. -I want to see what these people are about. If you see danger--and you -have put the fancy into my head too--you may either bring him up to -me, or ride away as fast as you can to the château of Beauté, and tell -what has happened."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will do both, sir," said Martin Grille, with his head a good deal -confused by fear. "That is to say, I will first bring him up to you, -and then ride away. But I do see danger now. Hadn't you better get up -again?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost walked on with a smile; but, after going some ten or -fifteen paces, he slackened his speed, and, with a light step, turned -in among the bushes, where there was a little sort of brake between -two enormous old beech-trees. Martin Grille watched him as he -advanced, and kept sight of him for some moments, while quietly and -slowly he took his way forward in the direction of the smoke, which -was still very plainly to be seen from the spot where the valet sat. -It is not to be denied that Martin's heart beat very fast, and very -unpleasantly, as much for his master as for himself perhaps; and -certainly, as the dry twigs and bramble stalks made a thicker and a -thicker sort of mist round Jean Charost's receding figure, the good -man both gave him up for lost, and felt that he had conceived a -greater affection for him than he had before imagined. He had a strong -inclination, notwithstanding his fears, to get a little nearer, and -was debating with himself whether he should do so or not, when all -doubt and hesitation was put to an end by a loud shout, and a fierce -volley of oaths from the wood. Nature would have her way; Martin -Grille turned sharp round, struck his spurs into the horse's sides, -and never stopped till he got to the gates of the château.</p> - -<p class="normal">A party of armed men was instantly collected on his report, with good -Monsieur Blaize at their head, without waiting to seek casque or -corselet; and compelling Martin Grille, very unwillingly, to go with -them, they hurried on in the direction he pointed out, over the hill, -and down toward the verge of the wood. They had not reached it, -however, when, to the surprise of all, they beheld Jean Charost -walking quietly toward them, bearing something in his arms, and, on -approaching nearer, they perceived, with greater astonishment than -ever, that his burden was a young child, wrapped in somewhat costly -swaddling-clothes.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XIV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Many, eager, and loud were the inquiries of the party who came -to the -rescue of Jean Charost, regarding his adventures since Martin had left -him; but their curiosity was left unsatisfied. All he thought fit to -tell them amounted merely to the facts that he had been surrounded and -seized, before he was prepared to resist, by a party which appeared to -consist of common robbers; that for some time his life had seemed in -danger; and that, in the end, his captors, after having emptied his -purse, had consented to let him go, on condition that he would carry -away the child with him, and promise to take care of it for six years. -He had been made to take an oath also, he stated, neither to pursue -the party who had captured him, nor to give any description of their -persons; and, notwithstanding the arguments of the duke's retainers, -and especially of Monsieur Blaize, who sought to persuade him that an -oath taken in duress was of no avail, he resolutely kept his word.</p> - -<p class="normal">The old <i>écuyer</i>; seemed mortified and displeased; but he did not -hesitate long as to his own course; and, leaving the young secretary -and Martin Grille to find their way back to the château of Beauté as -they could, he dashed on into the wood with his companions, swearing -that he would bring in the marauders, or know the reason why.</p> - -<p class="normal">He was disappointed, however. The place where the captors of Jean -Charost had been enjoying themselves was easily found by the embers of -the fire round which they had sat; but they themselves were gone, -leaving nothing but an empty leathern bottle and some broken meat -behind them. The tracks of the horses' feet, too, could be traced for -some distance; but, after they entered the little road through the -wood, they became more indistinct amid other footprints and ruts, and, -although Monsieur Blaize and his companions followed them, as they -thought, to the village beyond, they could obtain no information from -the peasantry. No one would admit that they had seen any one pass but -Matthew So-and-so, the farmer; or the priest of the parish, on his -mule; or the baillie, on his horse; or some laborers with wagons; and, -after a two hours' search, the party of the duke's men returned to the -castle, surly and disappointed, and resolved to spare no means of -drawing all the particulars from Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the mean time, the young secretary had returned to the little -hamlet which had gathered round the foot of the château of Beauté, -making Martin Grille, who was somewhat ashamed of the part he had -acted in the morning's adventures, carry the infant in his arms--a -task for which he was better fitted than Jean Charost himself; for, to -say truth, he made no bad nurse, and one of his many good qualities -was a great love for children. At the hamlet, Jean Charost paused, and -went into one or two of the cottages inquiring for Angelina Moulinet; -but he had to go down quite to the foot of the hill before he found -the house of the person of whom he was in search. It was small, but -much neater than most of the rest, and, on opening the door, he found -a little scene of domestic happiness which pleased the eye. A young -husband and wife, apparently tolerably well to do in life, were seated -together with two children, the husband busily engaged in carving out -a pair of <i>sabots</i>, or wooden shoes, from an old stump of willow, and -the wife spinning as fast as she could get her fingers to go. The boy -was, of course, teazing a cat; the little girl, still younger, was -crawling about upon her hands and knees, and rolling before her a -great wooden ball, probably of her father's handiwork. The fire burned -bright; every thing about the place was clean and comfortable; and the -whole formed a pleasant scene of calm mediocrity and rural happiness, -better than all the Arcadias that ever were dreamed of.</p> - -<p class="normal">The wife rose up when the well-dressed young gentleman entered, and -the husband inclined his head without leaving off his operations upon -the <i>sabot</i>. But both looked a little surprised when Martin Grille -followed his master into the cottage, carrying an infant in his arms, -and Angelina Moulinet, with the kindly tact which never abandons a -woman, put down her distaff and went to look at the baby, -comprehending at once that some strange accident had brought it there, -and willing to smooth the way for explanation.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What a beautiful little girl!" she exclaimed "Come, Pierrot, look -what a beautiful child!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is it a little girl?" said Jean Charost, in perfect simplicity; "I am -sure I did not know it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Lord bless me! sir," cried the good woman "don't you see?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"All I see," replied Jean Charost, "is, that it is an infant which has -accidentally been cast upon my hands; and I wish to know, Madame -Moulinet, if you will take care of it for me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The young woman looked at her husband, and the husband gazed with some -astonishment at Jean Charost, murmuring at length, though with evident -deference to his better half, "I think we have enough of our own."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not expect you to take charge of this child," said Jean Charost, -"without proper payment. I will engage that you shall be well rewarded -for your pains."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But, sir, we do not know you," said the man; and his wife in the same -breath inquired, "Pray, sir, who sent you to us?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost hesitated; and then taking the child from Martin Grille, -told him to leave the cottage for a moment.</p> - -<p class="normal">The good valet obeyed; but, being blessed with the faculty of other -valets, he took up a position on the outside of the house which he -fancied would enable him to use both his hearing and his sight. -Neither served him much, however; for, though he saw good Angelina -Moulinet take the child from Jean Charost's arms, and the latter bend -down his head toward herself and her husband as they stood together, -as if saying a few words to them in a low tone, not one of those words -reached his ear through the cottage window. He could make nothing of -the gestures, either, of any of the party. Angelina raised her eyes -toward the sky, as if in some surprise; and Pierrot crossed his arms -upon his chest, looking grave and thoughtful. The moment after, both -were seen to speak quickly together, and the result of the -consultation, if it was one, was made manifest by Jean Charost leaving -the child with them and coming out of the cottage door.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now give me my horse," said the young gentleman; and then added, -while Martin unfastened the bridle from the iron ring, "Remember -this house, Martin; you will have to bring some money here for me -to-night."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will not forget it, sir," replied Martin Grille; and then added, -with a laugh, "and I will bring the money safely, which is more than -many a varlet could say of himself;" but before the last words were -uttered, his young master was in the saddle and on his way toward the -château.</p> - -<p class="normal">Under a sharp-pointed arch which formed the gateway, two or three of -the duke's men were lounging about; and the moment Jean Charost -appeared, one of them advanced to his horse's side, saying, "His -highness has been inquiring for you, sir."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is it three of the clock yet?" asked Jean Charost, somewhat -anxiously.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not two yet, sir," replied the man; and springing from his horse, the -young secretary hurried on toward the apartments of the duke. He was -admitted instantly, and found his princely master seated in a chair, -dressed in a light-furred dressing-gown, and sadly changed in -appearance, even since the preceding day. His face was very pale, his -eye heavy, and his lips parched; but still he smiled with a -good-humored, though not gay expression of countenance, saying, "I -hope they have not recalled you from any amusement, De Brecy; for I -did not think I should want you till three. But I feel ill, my friend, -and there are very busy thoughts in my mind."</p> - -<p class="normal">He paused for a moment or two, looking down thoughtfully on the table, -and then added, slowly, "When the brain is full--perhaps the heart -too--of these eager, active, tireless emmets of the mind, called -thoughts, we are glad to drive some of them forth. Alas! De Brecy, how -rarely does a prince find any one to share them with!"</p> - -<p class="normal">He paused again, and Jean Charost did not venture a reply. He would -have fain said, "Share them with me;" but he felt that it would be -presumptuous, and he remained silent till the duke at length went on. -"You are different from the rest of the people about me, De Brecy; -from any one I have ever had--unhackneyed in the world--not ground -down to nothing by the polishing of a court. There is something new -and fresh about you; somewhat like what I once was myself. Now, what -am I? By starts a wise man, by starts a fool."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh no, my prince," cried Jean Charost, "I can not believe that. 'Tis -but temptation leads you for a moment from the path of wisdom; the -sickness, as it were, of an hour. But the life is healthy; the heart -is sound."</p> - -<p class="normal">The prince smiled, but went on, apparently pursuing the course of his -own thoughts. "To know what is right--to do what is wrong--to feel a -strong desire for good, and constantly to fall into evil, surely this -is folly; surely it is a life of folly--surely it is worse than if one -did not know what ought to be, as a blind man can not be charged with -stupidity for running against a wall, which any other would be an -idiot not to avoid."</p> - -<p class="normal">He looked up in the young secretary's face, and Jean Charost, -encouraged by his tone, ventured to reply, "It wants but a strong -will, sir. You have a strong will against your enemies, I know; why -not have a strong will against yourself?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have, De Brecy--I have," replied the duke. "But my strong -will against myself is just like my strong will against my -enemies--very potent for the time, but easily mollified; a peace is -proposed--favorable terms of compromise offered, and lo! I and myself -are friends again, and all our mutual offenses forgiven."</p> - -<p class="normal">He spoke with a smile, for the figure amused his fancy; but the next -instant he started up, saying, "It is time that this should come to an -end. My will is now powerful, and my future course shall be different. -I will take my resolutions firmly--I will shape my course--I will lay -it down in writing, as if on a map, and then very shame will prevent -my deviating. Sit down. De Brecy, sit down, and write what I shall -dictate." Jean Charost seated himself, took some paper which was upon -the table, and dipped a pen in the ink, while the duke stood by his -side in such a position that he could see the sheet under his -secretary's hand, on which he gazed for a minute or two with a -thoughtful, half-absent look. The young man expected him every moment -to begin the dictation of the resolutions which he had formed; but at -length the duke said, in an altered tone, "No need of that; it would -show a doubt of myself, of which I trust there is none. No, no; -true resolution needs not fetters. I have resolved enough; I will -begin to act. Give me that fur cloak, De Brecy, and go and see if the -picture-gallery be warmed. Tell one of the varlets at the door to pile -logs enough upon the fire, and to wait there. Then return to me."</p> - -<p class="normal">Without reply, Jean Charost quitted the room, and told one of the two -attendants who were seated without to show him the way to the -picture-gallery--an apartment he had never yet heard of. The man led -him on along the corridor, to a door at no great distance, which he -opened; and Jean Charost, the moment after, found himself in a long, -narrow sort of hall, extending across the whole width of the building, -and lighted from both ends. It was divided into three separate -portions, by columns on either side, and the walls between were -covered with pictures nearly to the top. To our eyes these paintings -might seem poor and crude; but to the eyes of Jean Charost they were, -like those which he had seen at the Hôtel d'Orleans, in Paris, perfect -marvels of art. Before he paused to examine any of them, he ordered -more wood to be thrown upon the fire, which was burning faintly in the -great fire-place in the centre; and while the attendant had gone to -bring the wood from a locker, he walked slowly toward the western end -of the gallery, where, upon a little strip of white silk, suspended -between the two columns, appeared in large letters the word "AMORI." -On entering that portion of the gallery, he was not at all surprised, -after reading the inscription, to find that it contained nothing but -portraits of women. All seemed very beautiful; and though the faces -were all strange to him, he had no difficulty in recognizing many of -the persons whom the portraits were intended to represent, for the -names, in most instances, were inscribed in large letters on the -frame.</p> - -<p class="normal">A general look around filled him with astonishment, and a sort of -consternation at the daring levity which had gathered together, under -so meaning an inscription, the portraits of some of the most -celebrated ladies in France. But he did not pause long, for the fire -was soon arranged and kindled into a blaze; and he returned, as he had -been directed, to the chamber of the duke.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now," said the prince, as he entered, "is all ready?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is, sir," answered Jean Charost; "but the air is still chilly, -and, in truth, your highness does not look well. Were it not better to -pause for awhile?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no," replied the Duke of Orleans, quickly, but not sharply; "let -us go at once, my friend. I will put such a seal upon my resolutions, -that neither I nor the world shall ever forget them."</p> - -<p class="normal">He drew the fur cloak tighter round him, and walked out of the room, -leaning heavily on the young secretary's arm. As he passed, he bade -both the men at the chamber-door follow; and then walking into the -gallery, he turned directly to that portion of it which Jean Charost -had examined. There, seating himself in a chair near the centre of the -room, while the two servants stood at a little distance behind, he -pointed to a picture in the extreme southwestern corner, and bade Jean -Charost bring it to him. It was the picture of a girl quite young, -less beautiful than many of the others, indeed, but with the peculiar -beauty of youth; and when the Duke of Orleans had got it, he let the -edge of the frame rest upon his knee for a moment or two, and gazed -upon the face in silence.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost would have given a great deal to be able to see the -duke's heart at that moment, and to trace there the emotions to which -the contemplation of that picture gave rise. A smile, tender and -melancholy, rested upon the prince's face; but the melancholy deepened -into heavy gloom as he continued to gaze, and the smile rapidly -departed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I might spare this one," he said. "Poor thing! I might spare this -one. The grave has no jealousies--" He gazed again for a single -instant, and then said, "No, no--all--all. Here, take it, and put it -in the fire."</p> - -<p class="normal">Turning his head, he had spoken to one of the attendants; but the man -seemed so utterly confounded by the order, that he repeated the words, -"On the fire?" as he received the picture from the prince's hands.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes--on the fire," said the duke, slowly and sternly; and then -pointing to another, he added, "Give me that."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost brought it to him, when it met with the same fate, but -with less consideration than the other. Another and another succeeded; -but at length a larger one than the rest was pointed out by the duke, -and the young secretary paused for an instant before it, utterly -confounded as he read beneath the name of the Duchess of Burgundy. It -fared no better than the rest, and another still was added to the -flames. But then the duke paused, saying, "I am ill, my friend--I am -ill. I can not go on with this. I leave the task to you. Stay here -with these men, and see that every one of the pictures in this room, -as far as yonder two columns on either side, be burned before -nightfall, with one exception. I look to you to see the execution of -an act which, if I die, will wipe out a sad stain from my memory. You -hear what I say," he continued, turning to the two attendants; and was -then walking toward the centre door of the gallery, when Jean Charost -said, "Your highness mentioned one exception, but you did not point it -out."</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke laid his hand upon his arm, led him to the side of the room, -and pointed to a picture nearly in the centre, merely uttering the -word "That!"</p> - -<p class="normal">On the frame was inscribed the words, "Valentine, Duchess of Orleans;" -and, after having gazed at it for a moment in silence, the prince -turned and quitted the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">When he was gone, Jean Charost remained for a few minutes without -taking any steps to obey his command. The two men stood likewise, with -their arms crossed, in a revery nearly as grave as that of the young -secretary; but their thoughts were very different from his. He -comprehended, in a degree, the motives upon which the prince acted, -and felt how strong and vigorous must be the resolution, and yet how -painful the feelings which had prompted the order he had given. Nay -more, his fancy shadowed forth a thousand accessories--a thousand -associations, which must have hung round, and connected themselves -with that strong act of determination which his royal master had just -performed--sweet memories, better feelings, young hopes, ardent -passions, kindly sympathies, wayward caprices, volatile forgetfulness, -sorrow, regret, and mourning, and remorse. A light, as from -imagination, played round the portraits as he gazed upon them. The -spirits of the dead, of the neglected, of the forgotten, seemed to -animate the features on the wall, and he could not but feel a sort of -painful regret that, however guilty, however vain, however foolish -might be the passion which caused those speaking effigies to be ranged -around, he should have been selected to consign them to that -destroying element which might devour the picture, but could not -obliterate the sin.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length he started from his revery, and began the appointed work, -the men obeying habitually the orders they received, although doubts -existed in their minds whether the prince was not suffering from -temporary insanity in commanding the destruction of objects which they -looked upon only as rare treasures, without the slightest conception -of the associations which so often in this world render those things -most estimable in the eyes of others, sad, painful, or perilous to the -possessor.</p> - -<p class="normal">In about an hour all was completed; and I am not certain that what I -may call the experience of that hour--the thoughts, the sensations, -the fancies of Jean Charost--had not added more than one year to his -mental life. Certain it is, that with a stronger and a more manly -step, and with even additional earnestness of character, he walked -back to the apartments of the duke, and knocked for admission. A -voice, but not that of the prince, told him to come in, after a -moment's delay, and he found the maître d'hôtel in conference with his -master.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come in, De Brecy," said the duke. "Leave us, Lomelini. You are his -good friend, I know. But I have to speak with him on my own affairs, -not on his. With them I have naught to do, and it were well for others -not to meddle either. So let them understand."</p> - -<p class="normal">The maître d'hôtel retired, bowing low; and, after remaining a moment -or two in thought, the duke raised his eyes to the young secretary's -face, saying, in a somewhat languid tone, "Were you ever in this part -of the country before, De Brecy?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Never, your highness," replied Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have met with an adventure in the wood, I hear," said the duke, -"and did not tell me of it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I did not think it right to intrude such subjects on your highness," -answered the young man. "Had there been any thing to lead to it, I -should have told you at once."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well," said the duke, "you shall tell me hereafter;" and then -he added, somewhat irritably, "they have broken through my thoughts -with these tales. I want you to do me a service."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your highness has but to command," said Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am ill, De Brecy," said the duke. "I feel more so than I ever did -before; indeed, I have been rarely ill, and, perhaps--But that matters -not. Whatever be the cause, I have a strange feeling upon me, a sort -of presentiment that my life will not be very long extended. You heard -the announcement that was made to me by man or shadow--I know not, and -care not what--in the convent of the Celestins. But it is not that -which has produced this impression, for I had forgotten it within an -hour; but I feel ill; and I see not why there should not be influences -in external and invisible things which, speaking to the ear of the -soul, without a voice, announce the approach of great changes in our -state of being, and warn us to prepare. However that may be, the -feeling is strong upon me. I have ordered an imperial notary to be -sent for, in order that I may make my will. In it I will show the -world how I can treat my enemies--and my friends also; for I may show -my forgetfulness of the injuries of the one, without failing in my -gratitude to the other."</p> - -<p class="normal">He leaned his head upon his hand for a moment or two, and then added, -"I long earnestly to see my wife. Yet from causes that matter not to -mention, I do not wish to send her a long letter, telling her of my -state and of my feelings. I have, therefore, written a few lines, -merely saying I am indisposed here at Beauté. I know that they will -induce her to set out immediately from Blois, where she now is, and it -must be the task of the messenger to prepare her mind for the changes -that she <i>must</i>, and the changes that she may find here. Do you -understand me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think I do, sir," replied Jean Charost, "fully."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I should wish him, also," said the duke, "in case my own lips should -not be able to speak the words, to tell her, that whatever may have -been my faults, however passion, or vanity, or folly may have misled -me, I have ever retained a deep and affectionate regard for her -virtues, her tenderness, and her gentleness. I could say more--much -more--I will say more if ever I behold her again. But let her be -assured that my last prayer shall be to call down the blessing of God -upon her head, and entreat his protection for her and for our -children."</p> - -<p class="normal">While he spoke, he continued to hold a sealed letter in his hand, and -gazed at Jean Charost very earnestly. Nevertheless, he seemed to -hesitate, and when he paused, he looked down upon the paper, turning -it round and round, without speaking, for several minutes. Then, -however, as if he had decided at length, he looked up suddenly, -saying, "There is none I can send but Lomelini or yourself. Joigni is -a rough brute, though bold and honest. Blaize has no heart, and very -little understanding. Monluc would frighten her to death; for were he -to see me now, he would think me dead already. There is none but you -or Lomelini then. In some respects, it were better to send him. He is -of mature age, of much experience, accurate and skillful in his -dealings and passably honest; not without heart either, affectionately -attached to her, as well he may be, brought up and promoted by her -father; but there is in him a world of Italian cunning, a great deal -of cowardly timidity, and an all-absorbing, sense of his own -interests, the action of which we can never altogether count upon. -Besides, she loves him not. I know it--I am sure of it, although she -is too gentle to complain. He came hither as her servant. He found it -more for his interest to be mine. She can not love him. But enough of -that. I have conceived a regard for you, De Brecy, and you will find -proofs of it. It is not a small one that I send you on this mission. -There is something in the freshness of your character and in the -frankness of your nature which will win confidence, and I wish you to -set off at once for Blois. Bear this letter to the duchess, tell her -in what state I am--but kindly, gently--and accompany her back hither. -What men will you want with you? The country is somewhat disturbed, -but I do not think there is much danger."</p> - -<p class="normal">"One who knows the way will suffice, my lord," replied De Brecy. "A -small party may pass more easily than a large one. I will only beg a -stout horse from your highness's stables, which my man can lead, and -which may both carry what we need by the way, and serve me in case of -any accident to my own. I will undertake to deliver the letter, if I -live to the end of the journey."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps you are right in choosing small attendance," said the duke. -"I will send you a stout fellow to accompany you, who knows every rood -of the road. He is but a courier, but he makes no bad man-at-arms in -case of need; and, though I would not have you go fully armed, I think -it were as well if you wore a <i>secret</i>; beneath your ordinary dress."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have no arms of any kind with me but my sword and dagger, sir," -replied Jean Charost, "and I do not think I shall need more."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes--yes, you may," replied the duke. "Stay; I will write a word to -Lomelini. He will procure you all that is needful;" and, drawing some -paper toward him, the duke wrote, with a hand which shook a good deal, -the following words: "Signor Lomelini, put Armand Chauvin under the -orders of Monsieur De Brecy upon a journey which he has to take for -me. Command the armorer to furnish him with what ever arms he may -require, and the chief <i>écuyer</i>; to let him take from the stable what -horses he may select, with the exception of gray Clisson, the Arab -jennet, my own hackney, and my three <i>destriers</i>. <span class="sc">Orleans</span>."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There," said the duke, "there. Here is an order on the treasurer, -too, for your expenses; and now, when will you set out?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"In an hour," replied Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Can you get ready so soon?" the prince inquired.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think so, your highness," replied the young secretary. "I shall be -ready myself, if the two men are prepared."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So be it, then," said the Duke of Orleans. "I will go lie down on my -bed again, for I am weary in heart and limb."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">No season is without its beauty, no scene without its peculiar -interest. If the great mountain, with its stony peak shooting up into -the sky, has sublimity of one kind, the wide expanse of open country, -moor, or heath, or desert, with its limitless horizon and many-shaded -lines, has it of another. To an eye and a heart alive to the -impressions of the beautiful and the grand, something to charm and to -elevate will be found in almost every aspect of nature. The storm and -the tempest, as well as the sunshine and the calm, will afford some -sources of pleasure; and, as the fading away of the green leaf in the -autumn enchants the eye by the resplendent coloring produced, decay -will be found to decorate, and ruin to embellish.</p> - -<p class="normal">Take a winter scene, for instance, with the whole country covered with -a white mantle of the snow, the trees and the forests raising -themselves up brown and dim, the masses of dark pines and firs -standing out almost black upon the light ground from which they rise, -and the view extending far over a nearly level country, with here and -there a rounded hill rising detached and abruptly from the plain, -perhaps unbroken in its monotonous line, perhaps crowned by the sharp -angles and hard lines of fortress or town. The description does not -seem very inviting. But let us show how this scene varied during the -course of the evening, as three travelers rode along at a quick pace, -although their horses seemed somewhat tired, and the distance they had -journeyed had undoubtedly been considerable. Toward three o'clock a -heavy, gray cloud, apparently portending more snow, stretched over the -greater part of the sky, cutting off the arch of the concave, and -seeming like a flat canopy spread overhead. To the southwest the -heavens remained clear, and there the pall of cloud was fringed with -gold, while from underneath streamed the horizontal light, catching -upon and brightening the slopes, and throwing the dells into deeper -shadow. The abrupt hills looked blue and grand, and raised their heads -as if to support the heavy mass of gray above. Gradually, as the sun -descended lower, that line of open sky became of a brighter and a -brighter yellow. The dun canopy parted into masses, checkering the -heavens with black and gold. The same warm hues spread over every -eminence, and, as the sun descended further still, a rosy light, -glowing brighter and brighter every instant, touched the snowy summits -of the hills, flooded the plain, and seeking out in all its -sinuosities the course of the ice-covered river, flashed back from the -glassy surface as if a multitude of rubies had been scattered across -the scene, while the gray wood, which fringed the distant sky, blazed, -with a ruddy brightness pouring through the straggling branches, as if -a vast fire were kindled on the plains beyond.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was the last effort of the beauty-giving day, and all those three -travelers felt and enjoyed it in their several ways. The sun went -down; the hills grew dark and blue; every eminence, and even wave of -the ground, appeared to rise higher to the eye; the grayness of -twilight spread over all the scene; but still, upon the verge of the -sky, lingered the yellow light for full half an hour after day was -actually done. Then, through the broken cloud, gleamed out the -lustrous stars, like the brighter and the better hopes that come -sparkling from on high after the sunshine of this life is done, and -when the clouds and vapors of the earth are scattering away.</p> - -<p class="normal">Still the three rode on. An hour before, there had been visible on the -distant edge of the sky a tall tower like that of a cathedral, and one -or two spires and steeples scattered round. It told them that a town -was in that direction--the town to which they were bending their -steps; but all was darkness now, and they saw it no more. The road was -fair, however, and well tracked: and though it had been intensely cold -during the greater part of the day, the evening had become somewhat -milder, as if a thaw were coming on. A light mist rose up from the -ground as they entered the wood, not sufficient to obscure the way, -but merely to throw a softening indistinctness over objects at any -distance, and, as they issued forth from among the larger trees, upon -a piece of swampy ground, covered with stunted willows, Jean Charost, -for he was at the head of the party, fancied he saw a light moving -along at some little distance on the left.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is some one with a lantern," he said, turning to a stout man -who was riding beside him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"<i>Feu follet</i>," replied the other. "We must not follow that, my lord, -or we shall be up to our neck in a quagmire."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, such exhalations are not common at this time of year, Chauvin," -replied the young man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Exhalations or no exhalations," rejoined the other, "they come at all -times, to mislead poor travelers. All I know is, that the short road -to Pithiviers turns off a quarter of a league further on."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Exhalations!" said Martin Grille; "I never heard them called that -name before. Malignant spirits, I have always heard say, who have -lured many a man and horse to their death. Don't follow it, sir; pray, -don't follow it. That would be worse than the baby business."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost laughed, as he replied, "I shall only follow the guidance -of Monsieur Chauvin here. He will lead me better than any lantern. But -it certainly does seem to me that the light moves on by our side. It -can not be more than two or three hundred yards distance either."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That's their trick, sir," said Chauvin. "They always move on, and -seem quite near; but if you hunted them, you would never come up with -them, I can tell you. I did so once when I was a boy, and well-nigh -got drowned for my pains. Hark! I thought I heard some one calling. -That's a new trick these devils have got, I suppose, in our bad -times."</p> - -<p class="normal">All pulled up their horses and listened; but heard nothing more, and -rode on again, till, just as they were beginning to ascend a little -rise where the snow had been drifted off the road, and the horses' -hoofs rang clear upon the hard ground, a loud shout was heard upon the -left.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Halloo, halloo! who goes there?" cried a I voice some fifty or sixty -yards distant. "Give us some help here. We have got into a quagmire, -and know not which way to turn."</p> - -<p class="normal">"For Heaven's sake, don't go, sir," cried Martin Grille. "It's a new -trick of the devil, depend upon it, as Monsieur Chauvin says."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pooh, nonsense," replied Jean Charost; and then raising his voice, he -cried, "Who is it that calls?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"What signifies that," cried a stern voice.</p> - -<p class="normal">"If you are Christians, come and help us. If you are not, jog on your -way, and the devil seize you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, call again as we come, to guide us to you," said Jean Charost, -"for there is no need of us getting into the quagmire too."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let me go first, sir, and sound the way," said the courier.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Halloo, halloo!" cried two or three voices, as a signal; and, -following the sound, Jean Charost and the courier, with Martin Grille -a good way behind, proceeded slowly and cautiously toward the party of -unfortunate travelers, till at length they could descry something like -a group of men and horses among the willows, about twenty yards -distant. It is true, some of the horses seemed to have no legs, or to -be lying down, and one man dismounted, holding hard by a willow.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Keep up, keep up--we are coming to you," replied Jean Charost. "It is -firm enough here, if you could but reach us."</p> - -<p class="normal">The guide, who was in advance, suddenly cried, "Halt, there!" and, at -the same moment, his horse's fore feet began to sink in the ground.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here, catch my rein, Chauvin," cried the young secretary, springing -to the ground; "I think I see a way to them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Take care, sir--take care," cried the courier.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No fear," answered Jean Charost; "from tree to tree must give one -footing. There are some old roots, too, rising above the level. Stay -there, Chauvin, to guide us back." Proceeding cautiously, trying the -firmness of every step, and sometimes springing from tree to tree, he -came within about six feet of the man whom he had seen dismounted, -and, calling to him to give him his hand, he leaned forward as far as -he could, holding firmly the osier near which he stood with his left -arm. But neither that personage nor his companions were willing to -leave their horses behind them, and it was a matter of much more -difficulty to extricate the beasts than the men; for some of them had -sunk deep in the marsh, and seemed to have neither power nor -inclination to struggle. Nearly an hour was expended in efforts, some -fruitless and others successful, to get the animals out; but at length -they were all rescued, and Jean Charost found his little party -increased by six cavaliers, in a somewhat woeful plight.</p> - -<p class="normal">The man whom he had first rescued, and who seemed the principal -personage of the troop, thanked him warmly for his assistance, but in -a short, sharp, self-sufficient tone which was not altogether the most -agreeable.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where are you going, young man?" he said, at length, as they were -remounting their horses.</p> - -<p class="normal">"To Pithiviers," answered Jean Charost, as laconically.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then we will go with you," replied the other; "and you shall guide -us; for that is our destination too."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That will depend upon whether your horses can keep up with mine," -replied Jean Charost; "for I have spent more time here than I can well -spare."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We will see," replied the other, with a laugh; "you have rendered us -one service, we will try if you can render us another, and then thank -you for both at the end of our journey."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Very well," replied Jean Charost, and rode on.</p> - -<p class="normal">The other kept by his side, however; for the tall and powerful horse -which bore him seemed none the worse for the accident which had -happened. Armand Chauvin and Martin Grille followed close upon their -young leader, and the other five strangers brought up the rear.</p> - -<p class="normal">The rest of the journey, of well-nigh two leagues, passed without -accident, and the two foremost horsemen were gradually led into -something like a general conversation, in which Jean Charost's new -companion, though he could not be said to make himself agreeable, -showed a great knowledge of the world, of life, of courts, of foreign -countries; and displayed a somewhat rough but keen and trenchant wit, -which led his young fellow-traveler to the conclusion that he was no -common man. The last two miles of the journey were passed by -moonlight, and Jean Charost had now an opportunity of distinguishing -the personal appearance of his companion, which perhaps was more -prepossessing than his speech. He was a man of the middle age, not -very tall, but exceedingly broad across the chest and shoulders; and -his face, without being handsome, had something fine and commanding in -it. He rode his horse with more power than grace, managing him with an -ease that seemed to leave the creature no will of his own, and every -movement, indeed, displayed extraordinary personal vigor, joined with -some dignity. His dress seemed rich and costly, though the colors were -not easily distinguished. But the short mantle, with the long, furred -sleeves, hanging down almost to his horse's belly, betokened at once, -to a Frenchman of those days, the man of high degree.</p> - -<p class="normal">Although the young secretary examined him certainly very closely, he -did not return the scrutiny, but merely gave him a casual glance, as -the moonlight fell upon him, and then continued his conversation till -they entered the town of Pithiviers.</p> - -<p class="normal">"To what inn do we go, Chauvin?" asked Jean Charost, as they passed in -among the houses; but, before the other could answer, the stranger -exclaimed, "Never mind--you shall come to my inn. I will entertain -you--for to-night, at least. Indeed," he added, "there is but one inn -in the place worthy of the name, and my people are in possession of -it. We will find room for you and your men, however; and you shall sup -with me--if you be noble, as I suppose."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am, sir," replied Jean Charost, and followed where the other led.</p> - -<p class="normal">As they were entering the principal street, which was quiet and still -enough, the stranger pulled up his horse, called up one of his -followers, and spoke to him in a language which Jean Charost did not -understand. Then turning to the young gentleman, he said, "Let us -dismount. Here is a shorter way to the inn, on foot. Your men can go -on with mine."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost hesitated; but, unwilling to show doubt, he sprang from -his horse's back, after a moment's consideration, gave the rein to -Martin Grille, and walked on with his companion up a very narrow -street, which seemed to lead round the back of the buildings before -which they had just been passing.</p> - -<p class="normal">The stranger walked slowly, and, as they advanced, he said, "May I -know your name, young gentleman?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Jean Charost de Brecy," replied the duke's secretary; and, though he -had a strong inclination, he refrained from asking the name of his -companion in return. There was a something, he could not well tell -what, that inspired respect about the stranger--a reverence without -love; and the young secretary did not venture to ask any questions. A -few moments after, a small house presented itself, built of stone, it -is true, whereas the others had been mainly composed of wood; but -still it was far too small and mean in appearance to accord with the -idea which Jean Charost had formed of the principal <i>auberge</i>; of the -good town of Pithiviers. At the door of this house, however, the elder -gentleman stopped, as if about to enter. The door was opened almost at -the same moment, as if on a preconcerted plan, and a man appeared with -a torch in his hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost hesitated, and held back; but the other turned, after -ascending the three steps which led to the door, and looked back, -saying, "Come in--what are you afraid of?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The least suspicion of fear has a great influence upon youth at all -times, and Jean Charost was by no means without the failings of youth, -although early misfortune and early experience had rendered him, as I -have before said, older than his years.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am not afraid of any thing," he replied, following the stranger. -"But this does not look like an inn."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is the back way," replied the other; "and you will soon find that -it is the inn."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he walked through a narrow passage which soon led into a -large court-yard, the man with the torch going before, and displaying -by the light he carried a multitude of objects, which showed the young -secretary that his companion had spoken nothing but the truth, and -that they were, indeed, in the court-yard of one of those large and -very handsome <i>auberges</i>--very different from the <i>cabarets</i>, the -<i>gites</i>, and <i>repues</i>, all inns of different classes at that time in -France.</p> - -<p class="normal">Two or three times as they went, different men, some in the garb of -the retainers of a noble house dressed in gaudy colors, some in the -common habiliments of the attendants of an inn, came from different -parts of the court toward the man who carried the torch; but as often, -a slight movement of his hand caused them to fall back again from the -path of those whom he was lighting.</p> - -<p class="normal">Right in front was a great entrance door, and a large passage from -which a blaze of light streamed forth, showing a great number of -people coming and going within; but to the left was a flight of half a -dozen stone steps leading to a smaller door, now closed. To it the -torch-bearer advanced, opened it, and then drew back reverently to let -those who followed pass in. A single man, with a cap and plume, -appeared within, at a little distance on the left, who opened the door -of a small room, into which the stranger entered, followed by his -young companion. Jean Charost gave a rapid glance at the man who -opened the door, whose dress was now as visible as it would have been -in daylight, and perceived, embroidered in letters of gold upon his -cap, just beneath the feather, the words "<i>Ich houd</i>." They puzzled -him; for though he did not remember their meaning, he had some -recollection of having heard that they formed the motto, or rallying -words, of some great man or some great faction.</p> - -<p class="normal">The stranger advanced quietly to a chair, seated himself, turned to -the person at the door who had given him admittance, and merely -pronounced the word "Supper."</p> - -<p class="normal">"For how--" said the attendant, in an inquiring tone, and it is -probable that he was about to add the word "many," with some title of -reverence or respect, but the other stopped him at once, saying, "For -two--speak with Monsieur D'Ipres, and take his orders. See that they -be obeyed exactly."</p> - -<p class="normal">Then turning to Jean Charost, he said, in a good-humored tone, "Sit, -sit, my young friend. And now let me give you thanks. You rendered me -a considerable service--not, perhaps, that it was as great as you -imagine; for I should have got out somehow. These adventures always -come to an end, and I have been in worse quagmires of various kinds -than that; but you rendered me a considerable service, and, what is -more to the purpose, you did it boldly, skillfully, and promptly. You -pleased me, and during supper you shall tell me more about yourself. -Perhaps I may serve you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think not, sir," replied Jean Charost; "for I desire no change in -my condition at the present moment. As to myself, all that I have to -say--all, indeed, that I intend to say, is, that my name, as I told -you, is Jean Charost, Seigneur De Brecy; that my father fought and -died in the service of his country; and that I am his only child; but -still most happy to have rendered you any service, however -inconsiderable."</p> - -<p class="normal">The other listened in profound silence, with his eyes bent upon the -table, and without the slightest variation of expression crossing his -countenance.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You talk well, young gentleman," he said, "and are discreet, I see. -Do you happen to guess to whom you are speaking?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not in the least," replied Jean Charost. "I can easily judge, sir, -indeed, that I am speaking to no ordinary man--to one accustomed to -command and be obeyed; who may be offended, perhaps, at my plain -dealing, and think it want of reverence for his person that I speak -not more frankly. Such, however, is not the case, and assuredly I can -in no degree divine who you are. You may be the King of Sicily, who, I -have been told, is traveling in this direction. The Duke de Berri, I -know you are not; for I have seen him very lately. I am inclined to -think, from the description of his person, however, that you may be -the Count of St. Paul."</p> - -<p class="normal">The other smiled, gravely, and then replied, "The first ten steps you -take from this door after supper, you will know; for the greatest -folly any man commits, is to believe that a secret will be kept which -is known to more than one person. But for the next hour we will forget -all such things. Make yourself at ease: frankness never displeases me: -discretion, even against myself, always pleases me. Now let us talk of -other matters. I have gained an appetite, by-the-way, and am wondering -what they will give me for supper. I will bet you a link of this gold -chain against that little ring upon your finger, that we have lark -pies, and wine of Gatinois; for, on my life and soul, I know nothing -else that Pithiviers is famous for--except blankets; odds, my life, I -forgot blankets, and this is not weather to forget them. Prythee, -throw a log on the fire, boy, and let us make ourselves as warm as two -old Flemish women on Martinmas eve. But here comes the supper."</p> - -<p class="normal">He was not right, however. It was the same attendant whom Jean Charost -had before seen, that now returned and whispered a word or two in his -lord's ear.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha!" said the stranger, starting up "Who is with her? Our good -friend?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," replied the other. "He has gone on, for a couple of days, to -Blois, and she has no one with her but a young lady and the varletry."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Beseech her to come in and partake our humble meal," cried the other, -in a gay tone. "Tell her I have a young guest to sup with me, who will -entertain her young companion while I do my <i>devoir</i>; toward herself. -But tell her we lay aside state, and that she condescends to sup with -plain John of Valois. Ah, my young friend! you have it now, have you?" -he continued, looking shrewdly at Jean Charost, who had fallen into a -fit of thought. "Well--well, let no knowledge spoil merriment. We will -be gay to-night, whatever comes to-morrow."</p> - -<p class="normal">Almost as he spoke, the door was again thrown open, and fair Madame De -Giac entered, followed by the young girl whom Jean Charost had seen at -Juvisy.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XVI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Two servants, one an elderly, grave, and silent personage, -with the -air of knowing much and saying little, which is the proper -characteristic of experienced serving-men; the other a sharp, acute -young varleton, with eyes full of meaning and fun, which seemed to -read a running commentary upon all he heard and saw, waited upon the -guests at supper. With simple good sense Jean Charost took things as -he found them, without inquiring into matters which did not -immediately affect himself. Whatever rank and station he might -mentally assign to his entertainer, he merely treated him according to -the station he had assigned himself, with perfect politeness and -respect, but with none of the subservient civility of a courtier.</p> - -<p class="normal">Madame De Giac, upon her part, taking the hint which had been sent to -her, at once cast off all restraint more completely than Jean Charost -thought quite becoming, especially in the presence of her young -companion. But she noticed him personally with a gay smile and a nod -of the head, and he saw that she spoke in a whisper afterward with her -entertainer. The young girl greeted him kindly, likewise, and the meal -passed in gay and lively talk, not unseasoned with a fully sufficient -quantity of wine. Now the wine of Gatinois has effects very like -itself, of a light, sparkling, exhilarating kind, producing not easily -any thing like drunkenness, but elevating gently and brightly, even in -small portions. The effect is soon over, it is true; but the -consequences are not so unpleasant as those of beverages of a more -heady quality, and the high spirits generated are like the sparkling -bubble on the cup, soon gone, leaving nothing but a tranquil calm -behind them.</p> - -<p class="normal">"How is our friend, Louis of Valois?" asked Madame De Giac, with a gay -laugh, when the meal was nearly ended. "He was in unusual high spirits -when we met you and him, Monsieur De Charost, at the Abbey of Juvisy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"His spirits, madame, were like the cream upon your glass," replied -Jean Charost; "too sparkling to last long. He has been very ill -since."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha!" said their entertainer, with a sudden start. "Ill! Has he been -ill? Is he better?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I trust he is, sir," answered Jean Charost, somewhat dryly. "Better -in some respects he certainly is."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a something--perhaps we might call it an instinct--which led -the young gentleman to believe that tidings of the duke's illness -would not be altogether disagreeable to the personage who sat opposite -to him, and to say truth, he was unwilling to gratify him by any -detailed account. The other seemed, however, not to interest himself -very deeply in the matter; that topic was soon dropped; and Madame De -Giac and the stranger continued talking together in an under tone, -sometimes laughing gayly, sometimes conversing earnestly, but seeming -almost to forget, in the freedom of their demeanor toward each other, -the presence of the two younger people, who, made up the party of -four.</p> - -<p class="normal">Between Jean Charost and his fair companion the conversation, strange -to say, was much graver than between their elders. It too, however, -was carried on in a low tone, and, in fact, the party was thus -completely divided into two for some time.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I wish I were out of this companionship," said the fair Agnes, at -length; "Madame De Giac is far too wise a woman for me. Experience of -the world, I suppose, must come, but I would fain have it come piece -by piece, and not wholesale."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you think it so evil a thing, then?" asked Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not know," answered the girl; "and we are often afraid of what -we do not know. Did you ever plunge into a stream or a lake, and stand -hesitating for a minute on the bank, wishing you could tell how cold -the water would be? Well, it is so with me, standing on the brink of -the world into which I am destined to plunge. I am quite sure the -waters thereof will not be as warm as my own heart; but I would know -how cold they are--enough merely to refresh, or enough to chill me."</p> - -<p class="normal">We need not pursue the conversation on these themes further. The meal -concluded, and the table was cleared. The entertainer said something -in a low tone to his fair companion, and she answered with a -coquettish air,</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not yet--not yet. Find something to amuse us for another hour. Have -you no fool--no jongleur--no minstrel--nothing to wile away the time?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Faith, I came badly provided," replied the other, "not knowing what -happy fortune was prepared for me on the road. But I will see--I will -see what can be done. The people will bring in comfits, surely, and I -will ask what the town can afford."</p> - -<p class="normal">A few minutes after, the servants returned, as he expected, with some -dried fruits, and wine of a higher quality, and the stranger asked a -question or two in a whisper, to which the other replied in the same -tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"An astrologer!" rejoined the first; "an astrologer! That will do -admirably. We will all have our fortunes told. Go for him quietly, and -mind, betray no secrets. I hope every one here, as in duty bound, has -the hour, and day, and minute of his birth by heart. Your godfathers -and godmothers have failed sadly if they have neglected this essential -point of information. For my own part, I have had my horoscope so -often drawn, that if all the misfortunes befall me which have been -prognosticated, I shall need to live to the age of Methuselah to get -them all into one life, to say nothing of being killed five different -times in five different manners."</p> - -<p class="normal">Every one smiled, but none felt convinced that the speaker doubted the -truth of the predictions at which he scoffed; for it was a habit in -those times, as well as in most others, for men to pretend want of -belief in that which they believe most firmly, and a trust in judicial -astrology was almost as essential a point of faith as a reliance in -any of the blessed Virgins which were then scattered through the -various towns of Europe. No one denied that he was furnished with all -the dates for having his destiny accurately read by the stars, and -only one person present showed any reluctance to hear the words of -destiny from the lips of the astrologer. Strange to say, that one was -the gay, bold, dashing Madame De Giac, who seemed actually fearful of -learning the secrets of the future. In all hollow hearts there are -dark recesses, the treasured things of which are watched over with -miserly fear, lest any eye should see them and drag them to the light.</p> - -<p class="normal">She objected, in a sportive tone, indeed, but with a wandering and -timid look, sometimes pettishly declaring that she positively would -not consent to have all the misfortunes of life displayed before her -ere their time, and sometimes laughingly asserting that her noble lord -hated astrologers, and that, therefore, she was bound to have nothing -to do with them.</p> - -<p class="normal">The conduct of their entertainer, however, puzzled and surprised Jean -Charost more than her reluctance. They were evidently friends of old -date--perhaps something more; and during the whole evening he had been -paying her every soft and tender attention with a gallantry somewhat -too open and barefaced. Now, however, he first laughed and jested with -her, insisting, in gay and lively tones, but with his eyes fixed upon -her keenly, and almost sternly, and then ceased all tone of entreaty, -and used very unlover-like words of command. A reddish spot came into -his cheek too, and a dark frown upon his brow; and his last words -were, as some steps sounded along the passage, "You must, and you -shall," uttered in a low, hoarse voice, which seemed to come from the -very depth of his chest.</p> - -<p class="normal">The next instant, the attendant entered with a man dressed in a very -peculiar manner. He was small, mean-looking, aged, and miserably thin, -with a beard as white as snow, but eyebrows as black as ink. All the -features were pinched and attenuated, and the shriveled skin pale and -cadaverous; but the face was lighted up by a pair of quick, sharp, -intensely black eyes, that ran like lightning over every object, and -seemed to gain intelligence from all they saw. He wore a black gown, -open in front, but tied round the middle by a silver cord. His feet -were bare and sandaled, and on his head he had a wide black cap, from -the right side of which fell a sort of scarf crossing the right -shoulder, and passing under the girdle on the left hip. A small dagger -in a silver sheath, a triangle, and a circle of the same metal, and an -instrument consisting of a tube with a glass at either end--the germ -of the future telescope--hung in loops from his belt, and with a large -wallet, or <i>escarcelle</i>, completed his equipment.</p> - -<p class="normal">On entering the room, the astrologer saluted no one, and moved not his -bonnet from his head, but advanced calmly into the midst of the little -circle with an air which gave dignity even to his small and -insignificant figure, and, looking round from face to face, said, in a -sweet but very piercing voice, "Here I am. What do you want with me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">There was very little reverence in his tone, and Jean Charost's -companion of the way replied, with an air of some haughtiness, "Sir -wise man, you do not know us, or you would wait to hear our pleasure. -You shall learn what we want with you very speedily, however."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pardon, your highness," replied the astrologer; "I know you all. But -your men might show more reverence to science, and not drag me, like a -culprit, from my studies, even at the command of John, duke of -Burgundy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! the fools have been prating," said the duke, with a laugh; but -the astrologer answered quickly, "The stars have been prating, your -highness, though your men have held their peace. Before you set foot -in this town, I knew and told many persons that you would be here this -day; that you would meet with an accident by the way, and be saved -from it by the servant of an enemy. Ask, and satisfy yourself. There -are people in this very house who heard me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The servant of an enemy!" repeated the Duke of Burgundy, -thoughtfully, and rolling his eyes with a sort of suspicious glance -toward Jean Charost. "The servant of an enemy! But never mind that; we -have eaten salt together."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I said not an enemy, but the servant of an enemy," rejoined the -astrologer. "You and he best know whether I am right or not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think not," replied Jean Charost. "The Duke of Orleans has given -his hand to his highness of Burgundy, and he is not a man to play -false with any one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well spoken, good youth," answered the duke. "I believe you from my -heart;" but still there was a frown upon his brow, and, as if to -conceal what he felt, he turned again to the astrologer, bidding him -commence his prediction.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord the duke," replied the astrologer, "the hour and moment of -your nativity are well known to me; but it is very useless repeating -to you what others have told you before. Some little variation I might -make by more or less accurate observation of the stars; but the -variation could but be small, and why should I repeat to you -unpleasant truths. You will triumph over most of your enemies and over -many of your friends. You will be the arbiter of the fortunes of -France, and affect the fate of England. You will make a great name, -rather than a good one; and you will die a bloody death."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That matters not," replied the duke. "Every brave man would rather -fall on the field of battle than die lingering in a sick-chamber, like -a hound in his kennel."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I said not on the field of battle," answered the astrologer. "That I -will not undertake to say, and from the signs I do not think it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well, it skills not," answered the duke, impatiently. "It is -enough that I shall survive my enemies."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not all of them," said the astrologer; "not all of them."</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke waved his hand for him to stop; and, pointing to Madame De -Giac, exclaimed, with a somewhat rude and discourteous laugh, "Here, -tell this lady her destiny. She is frightened out of her wits at the -thought of hearing it; but, by the Lord, I wish to hear it myself, for -she has a strange art of linking the fate of other people to her own."</p> - -<p class="normal">"She has, indeed," replied the astrologer.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Methinks when she was born," said the duke, laughing, "Venus must -have been in the house of Mars."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your highness does not understand the science," said the astrologer, -dryly. "Madame, might I ask the date of your nativity?"</p> - -<p class="normal">In a faltering tone, Madame De Giac gave him the particulars he -required, and he then took some written tables from his wallet, and -examined them attentively.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is a fortunate destiny," he said, "to be loved by many--to retain -their love--to succeed in most undertakings. Madame, be satisfied, and -ask no more."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I ask nothing," replied Madame De Giac. "'Twas but to please the -duke."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But I must ask something," said the duke; and, drawing the astrologer -somewhat aside, he whispered a question in his ear, while Madame De -Giac's bright eyes fixed upon them eagerly.</p> - -<p class="normal">To whatever was the duke's question, the astrologer replied, aloud, -"As much as she possibly can," and the fair lady sank back in her -chair with a look of relief, though the answer might possibly bear -several meanings.</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke's face was more cheerful, however, when he turned round; and, -pointing to Madame De Giac's young companion, he said, "Come, let us -have some happy prediction in her favor."</p> - -<p class="normal">The astrologer gazed at her with a look of some interest, and so -earnestly that the color rose in her cheek, and a certain fluttering -grace of expression passed over her countenance, which made it look, -for the first time, to the eyes of Jean Charost quite beautiful, -foreshadowing what she was afterward to become. She made no -hesitation, however, in telling the day, hour, and minute of her -birth, and the astrologer consulted his tables again; but still paused -in silence for a moment or two, though the Duke of Burgundy exclaimed -more than once, "Speak--speak!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"My science is either wrong," the astrologer said, at length, "or -thine is, indeed, an extraordinary destiny. Till nineteen years have -passed over thy head, all is quiet and peaceful. Then come some -influences, not malign, but threatening. Some evil will befall thee -which would be ruinous to others; but thy star triumphs still, and -rises out of the clouds of the seventh house in conjunction with Mars, -also in the ascendant. From that hour, too, the destiny of France is -united with thine own. Mighty monarchs and great warriors shall bow -before thee. Queens shall seek thy counsel, and even those thou hast -wronged shall cling to thee for aid and for support."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no--no," exclaimed Agnes, stretching forth her beautiful hands, -with a look and attitude of exquisite grace. "I will wrong no one. -Tell me not that I will wrong any one; it is not in my nature--can it -be my destiny?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"One wrong," replied the astrologer, "repaired by many a noble act. -But I see more still. France shall have cause to bless thee. A -comet--a fiery comet--shoots forth across the sky, portending evil; -but thy star rules it, and the evil falls upon the enemies of France. -The comet disappears in fire, and thy star still shines out in the -ascendant, bright, and calm, and triumphant to the end. But the end -comes too soon--alas! too soon."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So be it," said the young girl, in a tranquil tone. "Life, I think, -must be feeling. I would not outlive one joy, one power, one hope. So -be it, I say. Death is not what I fear, but wrong. Oh, I will never -commit a wrong."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then, pretty maid, you will be more than mortal," said the Duke of -Burgundy; "for we all of us do wrong sometimes, and often are obliged -to do so that great good may spring out of small evil."</p> - -<p class="normal">Agnes was silent, and the astrologer turned to Jean Charost, who -readily told him all he desired to know; for such was the general -faith in judicial astrology at that time in France, that no man was -left ignorant by his parents of the precise hour and minute of his -birth, in order that the stars might be at any time consulted, in case -of need.</p> - -<p class="normal">The astrologer smiled kindly on him, but John of Burgundy asked, -impatiently, "What say you, man of the stars, is this youth's fate any -way connected with mine?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is, prince," replied the astrologer. "It has been once; it shall -be again. I find it written that he shall save you from some danger; -that he shall suffer for your acts; that he shall be faithful to all -who trust him; that he shall be present at your death; and try, but -try in vain, to save you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good!" said the duke, in a musing tone. "Good!" And then he added, in -a lower voice, as if speaking to himself, "I will let him go, then."</p> - -<p class="normal">The words reached Jean Charost's ears, and, for the first time, he -comprehended that he had run some risk that night. Although somewhat -inexperienced in the world, he was well aware that the caprices of -princes, and of the favored of the earth, are not easy to be -calculated; and he would have given a great deal to be out of that -room, notwithstanding the pleasant evening he had spent therein. To -show any thing like alarm or haste, however, he knew well might -frustrate his own purpose; and, affecting as much ease as possible, he -conversed with his young companion and the astrologer, while the Duke -of Burgundy spoke a word or two in the usual low tone to Madame De -Giac. What the treacherous woman suggested might be difficult to tell -exactly, but only a few moments had elapsed when the elder attendant, -who had before appeared, re-entered the room, saying, "This young -gentleman's lackey is importunate to see him, and will take no -denial."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost instantly rose, saying, "It is time, then, that I should -humbly take my leave, your highness. I knew not that it was so late."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, stay a while," said the Duke of Burgundy, with a very doubtful -smile. "This bright lady tells me that you are an intimate of my fair -cousin the Duke of Orleans, and that it is probable you go upon some -occasion of his. Good faith! you must tell me before you depart -whither you go, and for what purpose."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your highness will, I am sure, demand neither," replied Jean Charost. -"Hospitality is a princely quality, but has its laws; and gratitude -for small services well becomes the Duke of Burgundy far too much for -him either to detain or to interrogate a humble servant of his cousin -the Duke of Orleans. As for the lady's information, she makes a slight -mistake. I am his highness's servant, not his intimate; and certainly -her intimacy with him, if I may judge from all appearances, is greater -than my own."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Duke of Burgundy turned a quick and irritable glance upon Madame -De Giac; but Jean Charost had made a great mistake. We never render -ourselves any service by rendering a disservice to one whom another -loves. It was a young man's error; but he well divined that the fair -marchioness had prompted the duke to detain him, and thinking to alarm -her by a hint of what he had seen at Juvisy, he had gone beyond the -proper limit, and made a dangerous enemy.</p> - -<p class="normal">After he had spoken, the young secretary took a step toward the door; -but the Duke of Burgundy's voice was instantly heard saying, in a -cold, stern, despotic tone, "Not so fast, young man. Stay where you -are, if you please." Then putting his hand upon his brow, he remained -musing for a moment, and said, still thoughtfully, "We must know your -errand."</p> - -<p class="normal">"From me, never, sir," replied Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Boy, you are bold," thundered forth the duke, with his eyes flashing.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am so, your highness," replied Jean Charost, in a voice perfectly -firm, but with a respectful manner, "because I stand in the presence -of a prince bearing a high name. I know he has concluded treaties of -friendship and alliance with my royal master of Orleans, and I am -confident that he will never even think of forcing from his kinsman's -servant one word regarding his due and honorable service. You have -heard what this good man has said, that I am faithful to those I -serve. Were I your servant, I would sacrifice my life sooner than -reveal to any other your secrets committed to my charge; and though, -in truth, my business now is very simple, yet, as I have no permission -to reveal it, I will reveal it to no one; nor do I believe you will -ask me. Such, I know, would be the conduct of the Duke of Orleans -toward you; such, I am sure, will be your conduct toward him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Fool! You are no judge of the conduct of princes," replied the duke; -and then, for a moment or two, he remained silent, gnawing his lip, -with his brow knit, and his eyes cast down.</p> - -<p class="normal">A low, sweet voice, close by Jean Charost, whispered timidly, "Do not -enrage him. When too much crossed, he is furious."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well," said the duke, at length, "I will not force you, young man. -Doubtless you are making a mystery where there is none; and by -refusing to answer a very simple question, which any prince might ask -of another's messenger--especially," he added, with a grim smile, -"where there is such love as between my cousin of Orleans and -myself--you have almost caused me to believe that there is some secret -machination against me. Go your ways, however; and thank your good -stars that sent you to help me out of the quagmire, or your ears might -have been somewhat shorter before you left this room."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man's cheek glowed warmly, and his lips quivered; but the -same sweet voice whispered, "Answer not. But leave not the town -to-night. Conceal yourself somewhere till daylight. You will be -followed if you go."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost took no apparent notice; but bowing low to the Duke of -Burgundy, who turned away his eyes with haughty coldness, and -inclining his head to Madame De Giac, who looked full at him with her -sweet, serpent smile, he quitted the room with a calm, firm step, and -the attendant closed the door behind him.</p> - -<p class="normal">As soon as he was gone, the duke exclaimed, with a low, bitter laugh, -"On my life! he lords it as if he were of the blood royal."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Honesty is better than royal blood," said the astrologer.</p> - -<p class="normal">"How now, charlatan!" cried the duke, turning fiercely upon him; but -then, his thoughts flowing suddenly in a different direction, he gazed -upon the young lady from beneath his bent brows, saying, "What was it -you whispered to him, fair maid?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Simply to be cautious, and not to enrage your highness needlessly," -replied Agnes, with the color slightly mounting in her cheek.</p> - -<p class="normal">"By my faith, he needed such a caution," rejoined the prince; and -then, turning to the astrologer, he asked, "What was it you said about -his being present at my death?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I said, sir, that in years to come," the astrologer replied--"long -years, I trust--that youth would be present at your death, and try to -avert it."</p> - -<p class="normal">Burgundy mused for a moment, and then muttered, with a low laugh, -"Well, it may be so. But tell us, good man, what foundation have we -for faith in your predictions? Are you a man of note among your -tribe?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Of no great note, sir," answered the astrologer; "yet not altogether -unknown, either. I was once astrologer to the city of Tours; but they -offended me there, and I left them. I am, however, one of the -astrologers of the court of France--have my appointment in due form, -and have my salary of a hundred and twenty livres. This shows that I -am no tyro in my art. But we trust not to any fame gained at the -present. Our predictions extend over long years, and our renown is the -sport of a thousand accidents. Men forget them ere they are verified, -or connect not the accomplishment with the announcement. Often, very -often too, we are passed from the earth, and our names hardly -remembered, when the events we have prognosticated are fulfilled. I -have told you the truth, however, and you will find it so. When you -do, remember me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well," said the duke, in his abrupt, impatient manner; and then -turning to the attendant, he said, "Take him away. Bid Monsieur De -Villon give him four crowns of gold. Tell Peter, and Godet, and -Jaillou to get their horses ready. I have business for them. Then -return to me. I shall rest early to-night, and would have the house -kept quiet."</p> - -<p class="normal">While the attendant conducted the astrologer from the room, the duke -spoke, for a moment or two, in a low and familiar tone with Madame De -Giac, and then, resuming his stateliness, bowed courteously to her, -but somewhat coldly to her young companion, and, opening the door for -them with his own hands, suffered them to pass out.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XVII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Human weaknesses and human follies, human vices and human -crimes, are -undoubtedly very excellent and beneficial things. It may seem -paradoxical to say that the fact of one man cutting another man's -throat, or of another ruining a friend's peace, robbing him of his -fortune, or depriving him of his honor, can have any beneficial result -whatsoever; or that the cunning, the selfishness, the credulity, the -ignorance, the fanaticism, the prejudice, the vanity, the absurdity or -the passion of the many millions who at various times have exhibited -themselves with such appendages about them, should have conferred -boons upon the whole or any part of society. And yet, dearly beloved -reader, I am not at all sure that--considering man's nature as man's -nature is and looking at society as I see it constituted around me--I -am not at all sure, I say, that the very greatest crimes that ever -were committed have not produced a greater sum of enjoyment and of -what people vulgarly term happiness, than they have inflicted pain or -discomfort--that is to say, as far as this world is concerned: I don't -deal with another.</p> - -<p class="normal">Not very fond am I of painting disagreeable pictures of human nature; -but yet one can not shut one's eyes; and if it has been our misfortune -to be in any spot or neighborhood where something very wicked has been -perpetrated, the sums of pleasure and of pain produced are forced into -the two scales, where we may weigh them both together, if we choose -but to raise the balance. Take the worst case that ever was known: a -murder which has deprived a happy family--four young children and an -amiable wife--of a father and a husband--poor things, they must have -suffered sadly, and the father not a little, while his brains were -being knocked out. 'Tis a great amount of evil, doubtless. But now let -us look at the other side of the account. While they are weeping, one -near neighbor is telling the whole to another near neighbor, and both -are in that high state of ecstasy which is called a terrible -excitement. They are horrified, very true; but, say what they will, -they are enjoying it exceedingly. It has stirred up for them the dull -pond of life, and broken up the duckweed on the top. Nor is the -enjoyment confined to them. Every man, woman, and child in the village -has his share of it. Not only that, but wider and wider, through -enlarging circles round, newspapers thrive on it, tea-tables delight -in it, and multitudes rejoice in the "Barbarous Murder!" that has -lately been committed. I say nothing of the lawyers, the constables, -the magistrates, the coroner. I say nothing of the augmented -gratuities to the one, or the increased importance of the other; of -the thousands who grin and gape with delight at the execution; but I -speak merely of the pleasure afforded to multitudes by the act itself, -and the report thereof. Nor is this merely a circle spreading round on -one plane, such as is produced by a stone dropped into the water, but -it is an augmenting globe, the increment of which is infinite. The act -of the criminal is chronicled for all time, affords enjoyment to -remote posterity, and benefits a multitude of the unborn generation. -The newspaper has it first; the romance writer takes it next; it is a -subject for the poet--a field for the philosopher; and adds a leaf to -the garland of the tragic dramatist.</p> - -<p class="normal">What would the world have done if Macbeth had not murdered Duncan, or -Œdipus had not done a great many things too disagreeable to -mention?</p> - -<p class="normal">This is a wicked world, undoubtedly; but, nevertheless, the most -virtuous enjoy its wickedness very much, in some shape or another.</p> - -<p class="normal">The above is my short excuse for deviating from my usual course, as I -am about to do, and betraying, as I must, some of the little secret -tricks of a science of great gravity practiced in former days by -bearded men, but now fallen into the hands of old women and Egyptians.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost, in issuing forth from the Duke of Burgundy's presence, -found Martin Grille in a deplorable state of anxiety concerning him, -and, to say the truth, not without cause. It was in vain, however, -that the poor man endeavored to draw his young master into some secret -corner to confer with him apart. The whole house was occupied by the -attendants of the Duke of Burgundy or of Madame De Giac; and, although -the young secretary felt some need of thought and counsel, he soon saw -that the only plan open to him was to mount his horse as speedily as -possible and quit the inn. Armand Chauvin, the courier or -<i>chevaucheur</i>; of the Duke of Orleans, was sitting in the wide hall of -the inn, with a pot of wine before him, apparently taking note of -nothing, but, in reality, listening to and remarking every thing that -passed; and toward him Jean Charost advanced, after having spoken a -single word to Martin Grille.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The horses must be rested by this time, Armand," said the young -gentleman, aloud. "You had better get them ready, and let us go on."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Certainly, sir," replied the man, rising at once; and then, quickly -passing by the young gentleman, he added, in a whisper, "They are -saddled and bridled; follow quick. The horseboys are paid."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost paused for a moment, spoke a word or two, in a quiet -tone, to Martin Grille, with the eyes of a dozen men, in all sorts of -dresses, upon them, and then sauntered out to the door of the inn. The -stable was soon reached, the horses soon mounted, and, in less than -five minutes after he had quitted the presence of the Duke of -Burgundy, Jean Charost was once more upon the road to Blois.</p> - -<p class="normal">Twice the young gentleman looked back up the street in the clear -moonlight. Nobody was seen following; but he could hear some loud -calls, as if from the stables of the inn, and turning to the courier, -he said, "I fear our horses are not in fit case to ride a race -to-night."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think not, sir," replied the man, briefly. "We had better get out -of the town, and then turn into a wood."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know a better plan than that," replied Martin Grille. "Let us turn -down here by the back of the town, and take refuge in the house of the -astrologer. He will give us refuge for the night, and the duke departs -by sunrise to-morrow."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you know him?" demanded Jean Charost. "I thought you had never -been in Pithiviers before."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nor have I," replied the man. "But I'll tell you all about it -by-and-by. He will give us lodging, I will answer for it--hide us in -his cabinet of the spheres, among his other curiosities, and those who -seek will seek for us in vain. But there is no time to be lost. Mine -is the best plan, depend upon it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps it is," replied Jean Charost, turning his horse's head. "We -might be overtaken ere we could reach any other place of concealment. -My horse moves as if his joints were frozen. Come on, Monsieur -Chauvin. Do you know the house, Martin?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, sir--right well," replied the valet. "Hark! I hear horses -stamping;" and riding on, down a side street, he turned back to the -east, passing along between the old decayed wall and the houses of the -suburb.</p> - -<p class="normal">Little was said as they rode, for every ear was on the alert to catch -any sounds from the main street, lest, mayhap, their course should be -traced, and they should be followed.</p> - -<p class="normal">It is hardly possible for any one in the present day--at least for any -dweller in the more civilized parts of earth, where order is the rule -and disorder the exception--to form any correct idea of those times in -France, when order was the exception, and disorder the rule; when no -man set out upon a journey without being prepared for attack and -defense; when the streets of a great city were in themselves perilous -places; when one's own house might, indeed, be a castle, but required -to be as carefully watched and guarded as a fortress, and when the -life of every day was full of open and apparent danger--when, in -short, there was no such thing as peace on earth, or good-will among -men. Yet it is wonderful how calmly people bore it, how much they -looked upon it as a matter of course, how much less anxiety or -annoyance it occasioned them. Just as an undertaker becomes familiar -with images of death, and strangely intimate with the corpses which he -lays out and buries, jokes with his assistant in the awful presence of -the dead, and takes his pot of beer, or glass of spirits, seated on -the coffin, with the link of association entirely cut by habit, and no -reference of the mind between his fate and the fate of him whom he -inters; so men, by the effect of custom, went through hourly peril in -those times, saw every sort of misery, sorrow, and injustice inflicted -on others, and very often endured them themselves, merely as a matter -of course, a part of the business of the day.</p> - -<p class="normal">I do not, and I will not pretend, therefore, that Jean Charost felt -half the annoyance or apprehension that any one of modern days would -experience, could he be carried back some four or five centuries; but -he did feel considerable anxiety, not so much lest his own throat -should be cut, though that was quite within the probabilities of the -case, as lest he should be seized, and the letters of the Duke of -Orleans which he bore taken from him. That anxiety was considerably -aggravated, as he rode along, by hearing a good deal of noise from the -streets on the right, orders and directions delivered in loud tones, -the jingle of arms, and the dull beat of horses' hoofs upon ground -covered by hardened snow. For a moment or two it was doubtful whether -the pursuers--if pursuers they were--would or would not discover that -he had quitted the highway and follow on his track; but at length -Armand Chauvin, who had hardly spoken a word, said, in a tone of some -relief, "They have passed by the turning. They will have a long ride -for their pains. Heaven bless them with a snow-shower, and freeze them -to the saddle!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"There's the house, sir," said Martin Grille, pointing to a building -of considerable size, the back of which stood out toward the -dilapidated wall somewhat beyond the rest, with a stone tower in the -extreme rear, and a light burning in one of the windows.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I should like to hear how you know, all about this place, Master -Martin," replied his young master, "and whether you can assure me -really a good reception."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That I'll answer for--that I'll answer for," cried Martin Grille, -gayly. "Oh, you men of battle and equitation can't do every thing. We -people of peace and policy sometimes have our share in the affairs of -life. This way, sir--this way. The back door into the court is the -best. On my life! if I were to turn astrologer any where, it should be -at Pithiviers. They nourish him gayly, don't they? Every man from -sixty downward, and every woman from sixteen upward, must have their -horoscope drawn three times a day, to keep our friend of the astrolabe -in such style as this?"</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, he rode up to a pair of great wooden gates in the wall, -and dismounting from his horse, pushed them open. Bending their heads -a little, for the arch was not very high, Jean Charost and the -<i>chevaucheur</i>; rode into a very handsome court-yard, surrounded on -three sides by buildings, and having at one corner the tower which -they had before observed. Martin Grille followed, carefully closed the -gates, and fastened them with a wooden bar which lay near, to prevent -any one obtaining as easy access as himself. Then advancing to a small -back door, he knocked gently with his hand, and almost immediately a -pretty servant girl appeared with a light.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, my pretty demoiselle! here I am again, and have brought this -noble young gentleman to consult the learned doctor," said Martin -Grille, as soon as he saw her. "Is he at home now?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, kind sir," answered the girl, giving a coquettish glance at Jean -Charost and his companion. "Two rude men came and dragged him away -from his supper almost by force; but I dare say he will not be long -gone."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then we will come in and wait," said Mar tin Grille. "Where can we -put our horses this cold night?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The girl seemed to hesitate, although her own words had certainly led -the way to Martin's proposal. "I don't know where to put you or your -horses either," she said, at length; "for there is a gentleman -waiting, and it is not every one who comes to consult the doctor that -wishes to be seen. Pedro the Moor, too, is out getting information -about the town; so that I have no one to ask what to do."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, we don't want to be seen either," replied Martin Grille; "so we -will just put our horses under that shed, and go into the little room -where the doctor casts his nativities."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But he's in there--he's in there," said the girl; "the tall, meagre -man with the wild look. I put him in there because there's nothing he -could hurt. No, no; you fasten up your horses, and then come into the -great hall. I think the man is as mad as a March hare. You can hear -him quite plain in the hall; never still for a moment."</p> - -<p class="normal">The girl's plan was, of course, followed; and, passing through a low -and narrow door, arched with stone, according to the fashion of those -days, Jean Charost and his two companions were ushered into a large -room, from the end of which two other doors led to different parts of -the building.</p> - -<p class="normal">The maid left the lamp which she carried to give the strangers some -light, but the greater part of the room remained in obscurity; nor, -probably, would it have exhibited any thing very interesting to the -eyes of Jean Charost; for all the walls seemed to be covered with -illuminated pieces of vellum, each figuring the horoscope of some -distinguished man long dead. Those of Charlemagne, Pope Benedict the -Eighth, Julius Cæsar, Alexander the Great, Homer, and Duns Scotus, -were all within the rays of the lamp, and the young secretary looked -no further, but, turning to Martin Grille, asked once more, but in a -low tone, how he happened to have made himself acquainted so -thoroughly with the astrologer's house and habits.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why bless you, sir," replied the lackey, "when I saw you carried off -by a man I knew nothing about, and found myself in an inn where not -even the landlord would tell who his guests were, I got frightened, -and as it is a part of my business to know every thing that may be of -service to you, I bethought me how I might best get information. As -every town in France has its astrologer, either official or -accidental, I determined I would find him out, and I seduced one of -the <i>marmitons</i>; to show me the way hither for a bribe of two sous. -Very little had I in my pocket to consult an astrologer with; but we -Parisians have a way of bartering one piece of news for another; and -as information regarding every body and every thing is what an -astrologer is always in search of, I trucked the tidings of your -arrival at the <i>auberge</i>; for the name of the great man whose servants -had possession of the inn. That frightened me still more; but the -learned doctor bought an account of all that had happened to us on the -road with a leathern bottle of the finest wine that was ever squeezed -out of the grape, and added over and above, that Madame de Giac, the -duke's mistress, was expected at the inn, and had sent her husband -away to Blois. That frightened me more than ever."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why so?" asked Jean Charost. "Why should you be frightened by any of -these things you heard? Their highnesses of Burgundy and Orleans are -now in perfect amity I understand, and Madame de Giac, when I saw her -before, seemed any thing but ill disposed toward my royal master."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! sir," replied Martin Grille; "the amity of princes is a ticklish -thing to trust to; and the friendship of a lady of many loves is -somewhat like the affection of a spider. God send that the Duke of -Burgundy be as well disposed to the royal duke as you think, and that -Madame de Giac work no mischief between them; for the one, I think, is -as sincere as the other, and I would not trust my little finger in the -power of either, if it served their purpose to cut it off."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay," answered Jean Charost; "I certainly do not now think that the -Duke of Burgundy is well disposed to his highness of Orleans; for I -have had good reason to believe the contrary."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is no one believes he is, but the duke himself," said Armand -Chauvin. "His highness is too frank. He rides out in a furred gown to -meet a man armed with all pieces. But hark! how that man is walking -about! He must be troubled with some unquiet spirit."</p> - -<p class="normal">All listened in silence for a moment or two, and a slow, heavy -footfall was heard pacing backward and forward in the adjoining room, -from which the hall was only separated by one of the doors that has -been mentioned. Jean Charost thought that he heard a groan too, and -there was something in the dull and solemn tread, unceasing and -unvaried as it was, that had a gloomy and oppressive effect.</p> - -<p class="normal">No one spoke for several minutes, and the time of the astrologer's -return seemed long; but at length the steps in the adjoining room -ceased, the door was thrown open, and a low, deep voice exclaimed, "If -you have returned, why do you keep me waiting? Ha! strangers all!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The speaker, who had taken one step into the room, was, as the maid -had described him, a tall, thin, gaunt man, of the middle age, with a -stern, wild, impetuous expression of countenance. His gray hair and -his gray beard seemed not to have been trimmed for weeks, and his -apparel, though costly, was negligently cast on. There was a wrinkle -between his brows, so deep that one might have laid a finger in it, -fixed and immovable, as if it had grown there for years, deepening -with time. But the brow, with its heavy frown, seemed the only feature -that remained at rest; for the eye flashed and wandered, the lip -quivered, and the nostrils expanded, as if there were an infinite -multitude of emotions passing ever through the heart, and writing -their transient traces oil the countenance as they went.</p> - -<p class="normal">He paused for a single moment, almost in the doorway, holding a lamp -high in his hand, and glancing his eyes from the face of Martin -Grille, who was next to him, to that of Armand Chauvin, and then to -the countenance of Jean Charost. As he gazed at the latter, however, a -look of doubt, and then of recognition, came upon his countenance, and -taking another step forward, he exclaimed, "Ha! young man; is that -you? Something strange links our destiny together. I came hither to -inquire of Fate concerning you; and here you are, to meet me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am glad to see you without your late companions, sir," replied Jean -Charost. "I feared you might be in some peril."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No danger--no danger," answered the other. "They were ruffians--but -what am I? Not a man there but had fought under my pennon on fields of -honorable warfare. Wrong, injustice, baseness, ingratitude, had made -gallant soldiers low marauders--what has the same made me--a demon, -with hell in my heart, with hell behind me, and hell before!"</p> - -<p class="normal">He paused for an instant, and pressed his hand hard upon his brow; -then raising his eyes again to the face of Jean Charost, he said, in a -tone more calm, but stern and commanding, "Come with me, youth--I -would speak with you alone;" and he returned to the other chamber.</p> - -<p class="normal">"For the blessed Virgin's sake, don't go with him, sir," exclaimed -Martin Grille.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You had better not, Monsieur De Brecy," said Armand Chauvin. "The man -seems mad."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No fear, no fear," answered Jean Charost, walking toward the door.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, give one halloo, and you shall have help," said Chauvin; and -the young gentleman passed out and closed the door behind him.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XVIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Martin Grille looked at Armand Chauvin, and Armand Chauvin at -Martin -Grille, but neither spoke; for Armand was by nature somewhat taciturn, -and the other, though he did not venture in the presence of the -<i>chevaucheur</i>; to put his ear or his eye to the keyhole, remained -listening as near the door as possible, with a good deal of -apprehension it is true, but still more curiosity. The conversation, -however, between Jean Charost and the stranger commenced in a low -tone, and gave nothing to the hall but an indistinct murmur of voices. -Very speedily, however, the tones began to be raised; Jean Charost -himself spoke angrily; but another voice almost drowned his, pouring -forth a torrent of invectives, not upon him, it would seem; for the -only sentence completely heard showed that some other person was -referred to. "There is every sort of villain in the world," cried the -voice; "and he is a villain of the damnedest and the blackest dye. The -cut-throat and the thief, the swindler, the traitor, are all -scoundrels of their kind; but what is he who--"</p> - -<p class="normal">The voice fell again; and Martin Grille, turning to his companion, -grasped his arm, saying, "Go in--go in. He will do him some mischief, -I am very much afraid."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am not so much accustomed to be afraid, either for myself or for -other people," answered Chauvin. "The young gentleman will call out if -he wants me."</p> - -<p class="normal">Almost at the same moment, without the sound of any opening door from -the street, the astrologer entered the room with a hurried step and -somewhat disturbed look. "Ha! my friend," he said, as his eyes fell on -Martin Grille. "Where is your young master?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Within there," replied Martin, "with that other devil of a man. Don't -you hear how loud they are talking?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Without reply or ceremony, the astrologer opened the door leading into -the other room, entered and closed it again; but during the brief -moment of his passing in both Martin and Chauvin caught a sight of the -figures within. Jean Charost was standing with his arms crossed upon -his chest, in an attitude of stern and manly dignity which neither of -them had ever before seen him assume, while the stranger, as if -exhausted by the burst of passion to which he had given way, was cast -negligently on a seat, his arm resting on a table, and his head bowed -down with the gray locks falling loose upon his forehead. Martin -Grille felt sure he perceived large tear drops rolling over his -cheeks; but the door was closed in an instant, and he saw no more.</p> - -<p class="normal">From the moment of the astrologer's entrance the conversation was -carried on in a low tone; but it lasted nearly three quarters of an -hour, and at the end of that time the door again opened, and the three -who were in the inner chamber came out into the hall.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now I am ready to go," said Jean Charost. "Unfasten the horses, -Martin Grille."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thought we were to stay here all night, sir," replied Chauvin, -"and I think, sir, you had better consider what you do. I may tell you -now, what I did not mention before, that the bearing on my cap very -soon betrayed that I belonged to the Duke of Orleans, and I heard bets -made among the Burgundy people that we should not go five miles before -we were brought back. There was a great deal of talk about it that I -don't remember, as to whether his highness would keep you or let you -go at all; but all agreed that if he did let you go, you would not go -far without being stopped and searched. I took no notice, and -pretended not to hear; but I slipped out quietly and saddled the -horses."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You did well, Chauvin," replied the young secretary. "But I must not -delay when there is a possibility of going forward. This gentleman -agrees to show us a less dangerous way than the high-road, and I am -determined to put myself under his guidance. The responsibility be -upon my head."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, sir, I have nothing to do but obey," replied the <i>chevaucheur</i>, -and took a step toward the door.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay a moment," said the astrologer. "I have ordered you some -refreshment, and I have two words to write to the noble duke, Monsieur -De Brecy. Tell him I am his faithful servant ever, and that I greatly -regret to have to warn him of such impending danger."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I beseech you, my good friend," replied Jean Charost, "send your -warning by some other messenger; first, because I may be long upon the -way, and tidings of such importance should reach his highness soon; -secondly, because I would fain not be a bird of evil omen. Great men -love not those who bring them bad tidings. But the first reason is the -best. I will take your letter, however unwillingly, but eight-and-forty -hours must elapse ere I can reach Blois. I shall then have to wait the -pleasure of the duchess, and then return, probably, by slow journeys; -valuable time will be lost, and your intelligence may come too late."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So be it," said the astrologer; "although--"</p> - -<p class="normal">But before he could finish the sentence, a tawny colored man, dressed -somewhat fantastically, in a white tunic and large turban, entered the -room bearing in bottles and silver cups. "You have seldom tasted such -wine as this," said the astrologer, offering the first cup he poured -out to the tall gaunt stranger. "Take it, my lord. You are my early -friend and patron; and you must not depart without drinking wine in my -house. It will do you good, and raise your spirits."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I would not have them raised," replied the stranger, putting aside -the cup. "False happiness is not what I desire. I have had too much of -that already. My misery is pure, if it be bitter. I would not mingle -it with a fouler thing."</p> - -<p class="normal">Those were the only words he spoke from that moment till the whole -party reached the neighborhood of Chilleurs aux Rois.</p> - -<p class="normal">Martin Grille drank his cup of wine, and hastened to bring out the -horses. Armand Chauvin drank likewise, and followed him in silence, -and when the astrologer accompanied his two noble guests to the -court-yard, they found a tall, powerful gray horse held ready by the -Moor. Jean Charost took leave of his host with a few courteous words; -but the stranger mounted in silence, rode out as soon as the gates -were open, and turning at once to the right, led the way quite round -the town, crossed a small stream, and then, by paths with which he -seemed perfectly well acquainted, dashed on at a quick pace to the -westward, leaving the others to come after as best they could, much to -the inconvenience, be it said, of poor Martin Grille, whose horse -stumbled continually, as horses will do with bad riders.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost kept generally by the stranger's side, and once or twice -spoke a few words to him; but he received no answer, and through the -long night they rode on, even after the moon had gone down, without -drawing a rein till, just at the gray of the morning, they -distinguished a church steeple, at the distance of about half a mile -on the right. There the stranger pulled up his horse suddenly, and -said, "Chilleurs aux Rois."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here, I suppose, we are safe," said Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Quite safe," was the brief reply. "Fare you well--remember!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I always remember my given word," replied Jean Charost; "where can I -see or hear from you in case of need?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The stranger gazed at him with a grim dark smile; turned his horse's -head and galloped away.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XIX.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The curiosity of Martin Grille was greatly excited. The -curiosity of -Martin Grille could not rest. He had no idea of a master having a -secret from a valet. What were valets made for? he asked himself. What -could they do in the world if there was any such thing as a secret -from them? He determined he would find out that of his master, and he -used every effort, trusting to Jean Charost's inexperience to lead him -into any admission--into any slip of the tongue--which would give one -simple fact regarding the stranger whom they had met at Pithiviers, -relying on his own ingenuity to combine it with what he had already -observed, so as to make some progress on the way to knowledge. But -Jean Charost foiled all his efforts, and afforded him not the -slightest hint of any kind, greatly raising his intellect in the -opinion of his worthy valet, but irritating Martin's curiosity still -further.</p> - -<p class="normal">"If there be not some important secret," thought the man, "why should -he be so anxious to conceal it?" and he set to work to bring Armand -Chauvin into a league and confederacy for the purpose of discovering -the hidden treasure.</p> - -<p class="normal">Armand, however, not only rejected all his overtures, but reproved him -for his curiosity. "I know not what is the business of valets, Master -Martin," he said; "but I know my own business. The <i>chevaucheur</i> -should be himself as secret as the grave. Should know nothing, see -nothing, hear nothing, except what he is told in the way of his -business. If a secret message is given him to convey, he should forget -it altogether till he sees the person to whom it is to be delivered, -and then forget it again as soon as it is given. Take my advice, -Master Martin, and do not meddle with your master's secrets. Many a -man finds his own too heavy to bear, and many a man has been hanged -for having those of other people."</p> - -<p class="normal">Martin Grille did not at all like the idea of being hanged, and the -warning quieted him from Orleans, where it was given, to the good -town, of Blois; but still he resolved to watch narrowly in after days, -and to see whether, by putting piece and piece together, he could not -pluck out the heart of Jean Charost's mystery.</p> - -<p class="normal">The three horsemen rode into the town of Blois at eventide, just as -the sun was setting; and, according to the directions he had received, -Jean Charost proceeded straight to the ancient château, which, when -somewhat altered from its then existing form, was destined to be the -scene of many tragic events in French history.</p> - -<p class="normal">Though the face of the world has remained the same, though mountain -and valley stand where valley and mountain stood, though towns and -fortresses are still to be found where towns and fortresses then -existed, the changes of society have been so great, the relations -between man and man, and between man and all external things, have -been so much altered, that it is with difficulty we bring our mind to -comprehend how certain things, all positive facts, existed in other -days, and to perceive the various relations--to us all strange and -anomalous--which thus arose. It is probable that the Duke of Orleans -did not possess a foot of land in the town of Blois besides the old -château, and that he did not hold that in pure possession. But, either -as appanage or fief, he held great territories in the central and -southwestern parts of France, which yielded him considerable revenue -in the shape of dues, tolls, and taxes, gave him the command of many -important towns, and placed in his hands, during life, a number of -magnificent residences, kept up almost entirely by services of vassals -or other feudal inferiors. Shortly before this time, the Duchy of -Aquitaine had been thus conceded to him, and Orleans, Blois, and a -number of small cities had been long in his possession. Thus the -château of Blois was at this time held by him, if not in pure -property, yet in full possession, and afforded a quiet retreat, if not -exactly a happy residence, to a wife whom he sincerely loved, without -passion, and esteemed, even while he neglected.</p> - -<p class="normal">Removed from the scenes of contention which were daily taking place -near the capital--contention often dignified by the name of war, but -more deserving that of anarchy--the town of Blois had enjoyed for many -years a peaceful and even sluggish calm, for the disorders of many -other parts of France, of course, put a stop to peaceful enterprise in -any direction, either mental or physical. There seemed no energy in -the place; and the little court there held by the Duchess of Orleans, -as well as the number of persons who usually resided in the town as a -place of security, afforded the only inducements to active industry.</p> - -<p class="normal">As Jean Charost rode along through the streets, there were shops which -might be considered gay, as the world then went; there were persons of -good means and bright clothing, and a number of the inferior class -taking an hour's exercise before the close of day. But there was none -of the eager bustle of a busy, thrifty city, and the amusement-loving -people of France seemed solely occupied with amusement in the town of -Blois.</p> - -<p class="normal">At the gates of the old castle, the draw-bridge was found down, the -portcullis raised, two lazy guards were pitching pieces of stone into -a hole dug in the middle of the way, and wrangling with each other -about their game. Both started up, however, as the three horsemen came -slowly over the bridge, and one thrust himself in the way with an air -of military fierceness as he saw the face of a stranger in the leader -of the party. The next moment, however, he exclaimed, "Ah! pardie: -Chauvin is that you? Who is this young gentleman?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am secretary to his highness the Duke of Orleans," replied Jean -Charost; "and I bear a letter to the duchess to deliver into her own -hands."</p> - -<p class="normal">Admission was not difficult to obtain; and Jean Charost was passed -from hand to hand till he found himself in the interior of that gloomy -building, which always seems to the visitor of modern times redolent -of bloody and mysterious deeds.</p> - -<p class="normal">A grave and respectable-looking man at length showed Jean Charost into -a handsomely-furnished room in one of the towers which looked out in -the direction of Tours; and, seating himself upon a large window-seat, -forming a coffer for firewood, he gazed out upon the scene below and -saw the sun set over the world of trees beneath him. Darkness came on -rapidly, but still he was suffered to remain alone, and silence -brooded over the whole place, unbroken even by a passing footfall. All -was so still that he could have fancied that some one was dead in the -place, and the rest were silent mourners.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length a slow, quiet footfall in the distance met his ear, coming -along with easy, almost drowsy pace, till the same old man appeared, -and conducted him through a length of passages and vacant rooms to the -presence of the Duchess of Orleans.</p> - -<p class="normal">She was seated in a large arm-chair, with a table by her side, and was -dressed almost altogether in black; but to the eyes of Jean Charost -she seemed exceedingly beautiful, with finely-shaped features, bright -eyes, and an expression of melancholy which suited well the peculiar -cast of her countenance. She gazed earnestly at Jean Charost as he -advanced toward her, and said, as soon as she thought him near enough, -"You come from his highness, I am told. How is my dear husband?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not so well as I could wish, madam," replied Jean Charost; "but this -letter which I have the honor to present will tell you more."</p> - -<p class="normal">The duchess held out her fair hand for the epistle, but it trembled -greatly as she took it; and the young secretary would not venture to -look in her face as she was reading, for he knew that she would be -greatly agitated. She was so, indeed; but she recovered herself -speedily, and, speaking still with a slight foreign accent, demanded -further details.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He says only that he is ill," she exclaimed. "Tell me, sir--tell me -how he really is. Did you see him? Yes, you must have seen him, for he -says you are his secretary. Has he concealed any thing in this letter? -Is it necessary that I should set out this night? I am quite ready. He -must be very ill," she added, in a low and melancholy tone, "or he -would not have sent for me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"His highness is ill, madam," replied Jean Charost, "seriously ill, I -fear; but I trust not dangerously so. The contentions in which he has -lately been engaged with the Duke of Burgundy, but which are now -happily over--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, that house of Burgundy! that house of Burgundy!" said the -duchess, in a low, sad tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"These, and many other anxieties," continued Jean Charost, "together -with much fatigue, have produced, what I should suppose, some sort of -fever, and a great depression of mind--a melancholy--which probably -makes his highness imagine his illness even greater than it is. I -should think, however, madam, that by setting out this night you would -not greatly accelerate your journey. The roads are difficult and -somewhat dangerous--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nevertheless, I will go," replied the duchess; and putting her hand -before her eyes, she seemed to fall into thought for a few moments. -Jean Charost saw some tear-drops trickle through her fingers, and the -young man, inexperienced as he was, felt how many emotions might -mingle with those tears. He withdrew his eyes, and fixed them on the -ground, and at length the duchess said, "Will you call my attendants, -sir, from the ante-room? I must make preparation."</p> - -<p class="normal">She pointed, as she spoke, to a different door to that by which the -young gentleman had been introduced, and Jean Charost walked toward -it, bowing to the princess, as if taking leave. She stopped him, -however, to bid him return in a few minutes, saying, with a sad smile, -"My thoughts are too busy, Monsieur De Brecy, to attend to courtesy; -but I beseech you, take care of yourself as if you were an inmate of -the house. My husband seems to have much confidence in you, and -desires that you should accompany me. If you are too much fatigued to -do so to-night, you can follow me to-morrow, and will doubtless -overtake me in time."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not too much fatigued myself, madam," replied Jean Charost; "but I -fear my horses could not go far. If there be time, I will provide -others."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, that will be easily managed," she answered. "There are always -horses enough here. I will see that you are mounted."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young gentleman then proceeded to the ante-room, where he found a -bevy of young girls, each seated demurely at her embroidery frame, -under the eye of an elder lady. Gay glances were shot at him from -every side, but he contented himself with simply announcing the -duchess's commands, and then proceeded in search of his companions of -the road. He found that Armand Chauvin was completely at home in the -château of Blois, and had made Martin Grille quite familiar with the -place already; nor did the young gentleman himself feel any of that -shy timidity which he had experienced when, as a stranger, unknown to -all around him, he had first taken up his abode in the Hôtel -d'Orleans. There was a subdued and quiet tone, too, about the court of -the duchess, very different from the gay and somewhat insolent -demeanor of her husband's younger attendants; and the young secretary, -now known as such, was treated with all courtesy, and obtained every -thing he could desire for the refreshment of himself and his horses. -Gradually, however, the bustle of preparation spread from the -apartments of the duchess through the rest of the house, accompanied -by the report of her being about to set out that very night to join -her husband at Beauté. All were eager to know the cause and the -particulars, and an old major-domo ventured to come into the hall -where Jean Charost was seated with some wine and meat before him, to -extract every information that he could upon the subject. He received -very cautious answers, however, and ere he had carried his questions -far, he was interrupted by the entrance of the <i>chevaucheur</i>, in some -haste and apparent alarm.</p> - -<p class="normal">"They tell me, Monsieur De Brecy," he said in his abrupt manner, "that -the duchess sets forth to-night."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost nodded his head.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Have you told her," asked Chauvin, "that the Duke of Burgundy is on -the road between this and the Seine?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," answered Jean Charost, starting up, his mind seizing at once the -vague idea of danger. "Surely he would not--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Humph!" said Armand Chauvin. "There is no knowing what he would not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed, there is not," said the old major-domo; "and methinks the -duchess should send out a party of <i>piqueurs</i>; to bring him in, or -clear the way of him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I had better tell her," said Jean Charost thoughtfully. "If there be -danger, she will judge of it better than I can."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will show you the way, sir--I will show you the way," said the old -major-domo, with officious civility. "This way, if you please--this -way."</p> - -<p class="normal">When again admitted to the presence of the duchess, the young -secretary informed her that he had met with the Duke of Burgundy at -Pithiviers, but excused his not having mentioned the fact before on -the ground of not apprehending any danger in consequence of the recent -reconciliation of the houses of Burgundy and Orleans. It soon became -evident to him, however, that all the friends and attendants of the -Duke of Orleans, although he himself had seemed perfectly confident of -his cousin's good faith, looked upon the late reconciliation as but a -hollow deceit, which would be set at naught by the Duke of Burgundy as -soon as it suited his convenience. The duchess evidently shared in -this general feeling; but still she determined to pursue her first -intention, and merely took the precaution of ordering her escort to be -doubled.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I believe," she said, "that there is not a man goes with me who will -not shed the last drop of his blood in my defense and you, too, -Monsieur De Brecy, will do the same out of love for my dear husband."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Right willingly, madam," replied Jean Charost: "but I trust you may -escape all peril."</p> - -<p class="normal">The duchess soon dismissed him again, telling him that there would be -ample time for him to take some repose; that their preparations would -not be complete till nearly midnight; but Jean Charost contented -himself with a short sleep in a large arm-chair in the hall, and then -started up from the blessed, dreamless slumber of youth, refreshed and -ready for new exertion. About an hour after, the midnight march began. -The litter of the princess, containing herself and her youngest son, -was drawn by four white mules; but in advance were eight or ten -men-at-arms, cased in plate armor, and lance in hand. A large body -followed the litter; and on either side of it rode several of the -noble retainers of the house of Orleans more lightly armed, among whom -was Jean Charost. The moon shone out brightly; and as her pale rays -fell upon the duchess's litter with its white curtains, and upon -another, containing some of her female attendants, which followed, and -glistened upon the steel casques and corselets of the men-at-arms as -they wound in and out along the banks of the river, the whole formed a -scene strangely exciting to the imagination of Jean Charost, who had -seen little, for many years, of any thing like military display. The -march passed quietly enough, and for the first three or four days no -incident of any kind occurred which is worthy of detail. On many -occasions the young secretary had the opportunity of conversing with -the duchess; and her quiet gentleness, the strong, unshaken, -uncomplaining affection which she showed toward her husband with all -his faults, together with native graces unhardened, and personal -beauty hardly touched by time, made Jean Charost marvel greatly at the -wayward heart of man, and ask himself, with doubt and almost fear, if -ever he himself could be brought to sport with or neglect the -affections of a being such as that.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the neighborhood of Pithiviers, it was ascertained that the Duke of -Burgundy had retired from that part of the country two days before, -turning his steps toward Paris; and the Duchess of Orleans, freed from -all apprehensions, sent back the military part of her escort to Blois, -remarking, with a smile, to Jean Charost, "I must not, except in case -of need, go to my husband with such a body of armed men, as if I came -to take his castle by storm."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can assure you, madam," replied the young secretary, laying some -emphasis on the words, "you will find that it is surrendered to you at -discretion."</p> - -<p class="normal">At the next halting-place the litter stopped, about an hour before -sunset. There were few attendants around; the old major domo was -somewhat slow in dismounting, and Jean Charost, who was sooner on -foot, drew back the curtains to permit the duchess to alight. She had -hardly set her foot to the ground, however, when a hard, powerful hand -was laid upon the young secretary's shoulder, and a hollow voice said, -aloud, "Young man, God will bless you. I find you are faithful and -true amid the false and the deceitful."</p> - -<p class="normal">Both the duchess and Jean Charost turned suddenly to look at the -speaker. The latter recognized him at once as the stranger whom he had -seen at Pithiviers, and on one occasion before; but the duchess drew a -little back, murmuring, with a look of alarm, "Who is that person?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Strange to say, madam," replied the young secretary, "I can not tell -your highness. I have seen him once or twice in somewhat singular -circumstances; but his name I do not know."</p> - -<p class="normal">As soon as the stranger had uttered the words above mentioned, he had -crossed his arms upon his breast and moved away, hardly noticed by the -attendants in the bustle of arrival; but the duchess followed him -still with her eyes; and then, as she walked on, she repeated twice -the stranger's words, "You are faithful and true amid the false and -the deceitful;" and then, looking earnestly in Jean Charost's face, -she added, "Will you be faithful and true to me also, young -gentleman?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am sure he will, mother," said her young son, who was holding her -hand; and Jean Charost replied, "To all who trust me, I will be so, -madam. When I am not, I pray God that I may die."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XX.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">When within a few miles of the château of Beauté, Armand -Chauvin was -sent forward to announce the near approach of the duchess; and she -herself, though the weather was still intensely cold, notwithstanding -the brightness of the sunshine, ordered the curtains of the litter to -be looped up, in order that she might see the castle before she -actually reached it. Her anxiety evidently increased as they came -nearer and nearer the dwelling of her husband. And who is there, after -being long absent from those they love, who does not, on approaching -the place of their abode, feel a strange, thrilling anxiety in regard -to all that time may have done? It is at that moment that the -uncertainty of human fate, the hourly peril of every happiness, the -dark possibilities of every moment of existence seem to rush upon the -mind at once. I have often thought that, if man could but know the -giddy pinnacle upon which his fortunes ever stand, the precipices that -surround him on every side; the perils above, below, around, life -would be intolerable. But he is placed in the midst of friendly mists, -that conceal the abysses from his eye, and is led on by a hand--in -those mists equally unseen--which guides his steps aright, and brings -him home at length. It is only the intense anxiety of affection for -those we love that ever wafts the vapors away, even for a moment, and -gives us a brief sight of the dangers that surround our mortal being, -while the hand of the Almighty Guide remains concealed, and but too -often untrusted.</p> - -<p class="normal">While still at some miles' distance from the castle, the towers and -pinnacles were seen peeping over the shoulder of a wooded hill, and -then they were lost again, and seen, and lost once more. The duchess -then beckoned up Jean Charost to the side of her litter, conversed -with him some time, and asked him many questions: how long he had been -with the duke, who commended him to her husband's service, what was -his family and his native place. She asked, too, more particularly -regarding her husband's health, whether his illness had been sudden, -or announced by any previous symptoms of declining health; but she -asked not one question regarding his conduct, his habits, or any of -his acts. She did not need to ask, indeed; but, even if she had not -known too well, still she would have abstained.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length the hill was climbed, the wood was passed, the gate of the -château of Beauté was in view, with attendants already marshaled on -each side of the draw-bridge, to honor the duchess's reception. As -soon as the head of her little escort appeared upon the road, a page -ran into the ward-room of the great tower, and the next instant -another figure came forth with that of the boy, and advanced along the -bridge. Greatly to Jean Charost's joy and satisfaction, he recognized -the figure of the duke, and when he looked toward the duchess, he saw -a bright and grateful drop sparkling in her eyes, which, in spite of a -struggle to repress it, rolled over and moistened her cheek. Another -moment, and the duke stood beside the litter; the mules stopped, and, -bending forward, he cast his arms around his wife. She leaned her head -upon his shoulder, and there must have shed tears; but they were soon -banished, and all parties bore a look of joy. Jean Charost could not -help remarking, however, that the duke was very pale, and looked older -by some years than when he had last seen him. But still, there was one -thing very satisfactory in his aspect to the eyes of the young man. -There was a gladness, a lightness of expression, an affectionate -earnestness in his greeting of the duchess which, from all he had -heard and knew, he had not expected. There was great satisfaction, -too, on the faces of all the elder attendants. Lomelini looked quite -radiant, and even Monsieur Blaize forgot his ancient formality, and -suffered his face to overrun with well-pleased smiles. He laid a -friendly grasp, too, upon Jean Charost's arm, as the duke and duchess -passed into the château, and walked on with him across the court, -saying, in a low voice, "You have done a good service, my young -friend, in bringing that lady back to this house, which might well -atone for a great number of faults. She has not been here for four -years."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I hope I have not accumulated many faults to atone for, good sir," -answered Jean Charost, smiling. "If I have, I am unconscious of them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, of course, that is between you and your own conscience," answered -Monsieur Blaize, in an off-hand kind of way. "It is no business of -mine."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am glad to hear, at least, that it is not you I have offended," -answered Jean Charost. "You were my first friend in the household, -Monsieur Blaize, and I should be very sorry to give you any cause for -reproach."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no--no!" answered the old <i>écuyer</i>. "You have done nothing -against me at all. But as to the duchess--how has she passed the -journey? Did she meet with any difficulty or misadventure by the way?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"None whatever," answered the young secretary. "None were apprehended, -I presume." And then, judging Monsieur Blaize more clear-sightedly -than might have been expected in so young a man, he added, "Had there -been any danger, of course the duke would have sent yourself or some -gentleman of military experience."</p> - -<p class="normal">Monsieur Blaize was evidently well satisfied with the reply; but still -he rejoined, "Perhaps I could not well be spared from this place -during his highness's illness. We were in great consternation here, I -can tell you, my young friend."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Has he been very ill, then?" asked the secretary.</p> - -<p class="normal">"For two days after you were gone," replied Monsieur Blaize, "no one -thought to see him rise from his bed again; and he himself evidently -thought his last hours were coming. He sent for notaries, made his -will, and was driven at length to get a leech from Paris--a very -skillful man indeed. He consulted the moon, and the aspect of the -stars; chose the auspicious moment, gave him benzoin and honey, -besides a fever drink, and some drops, of which he would not tell the -secret, but which we all believed to be potable gold. It is wonderful, -the effect they had. He announced boldly that, at the change of the -moon, on the third day, the duke would be better; and so it proved. -His highness watched anxiously for the minute, and immediately the -clock struck he declared that he felt relieved, to our very great joy. -Since that time, he has continued to improve: but he can not be called -well yet. And now, if you will take my advice, you will go and order -yourself something to eat at the buttery, and then lie down and rest; -for you look as haggard and worn as an old courtier. It was too heavy -a task to put upon a boy like you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost, during the whole of this conversation, had been carrying -on in his own mind, as we so continually do, a separate train or -undercurrent of thought, as to what could be the faults which good -Monsieur Blaize seemed to impute to him; and he came to conclusions -very naturally which proved not far from the truth. There was but one -point in his whole history in regard to which there was any thing like -mystery, and he judged rightly that, if men were inclined to attribute -to him any evil act, they must fix upon that point as a basis. He was -determined to learn more, if possible, however; and, in reply to -Monsieur Blaize's advice to get food and rest, he said, laughingly, -"Oh no, Monsieur Blaize, before I either eat or sleep, I must go down -to the hamlet, to see my baby."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, you speak of it coolly enough," replied Monsieur Blaize.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why should I not?" answered Jean Charost, quickly. But the old -gentleman suddenly turned away and left him; and Jean Charost was at -once convinced that some calumny had been circulated among the -household in regard to the child which had been so strangely thrown -upon his hands. By early misfortunes and difficulties he had been -taught to decide rapidly and energetically, and his mind was soon made -up on the present occasion, to seek the first opportunity of telling -his own story to the Duke of Orleans, and explaining every thing, as -far as it was in his power to explain. In the mean while, however, as -soon as he had given some directions to Martin Grille, he strolled -down to the hamlet and sought out the house of Madame Moulinet. He -knocked first with his hand, and there being no answer, though he -thought he heard the voices of persons within, he opened the door and -entered at once into the kitchen. Madame Moulinet was seated there, -with the child upon her knee; but the door on the opposite side of the -room was closing just as Jean Charost went in, and he caught a glance -of a black velvet mantle, before it was actually shut.</p> - -<p class="normal">"How thrives the child, Madame Moulinet?" asked Jean Charost, looking -down upon the infant with a glance of interest, but with none of that -peculiar admiration which grown women feel and grown men often affect -for a very young baby.</p> - -<p class="normal">The good woman assured him that the child was doing marvelously, and -Jean Charost then proceeded to inquire whether any one, during his -absence, had been to visit or inquire after it.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, a quantity of people from the castle, sir," answered the good -dame; "that saucy young fellow De Royans among the rest, and old -Monsieur Blaize, and the chaplain, and the fool, God wot! But beside -that--" and she dropped her voice to a lower tone--"one evening, just -as we were going to bed, there came a strange, wild-looking gentleman, -with long gray hair, who seemed so mad he frightened both me and my -husband. He asked a number of questions. Then he stared at the child -for full five minutes, and cried out at length, 'Ah! she doubtless -looked once like that,' and then he threw down a purse upon the table -with fifty gold crowns in it. So the little maid has got her little -fortune already."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did you not know him?" asked Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I never saw him in my life before," replied the woman; "and, in -truth, I did not know how to answer any one when they asked me about -the child, as you were gone, and had not told me what to say; so all I -could tell them was that you had brought her here, had paid well for -nursing her, and had commanded me to take good care of her in the name -of my good father's old lord."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And was that wild-looking man not your father's old lord?" asked Jean -Charost, in a tone of much surprise.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Lord bless your heart, no sir," replied Madame Moulinet. "A hand's -breadth taller, and not half so stout--quite a different sort of man -altogether."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost mused in silence; but he asked no further questions, and -shortly after returned to the château.</p> - -<p class="normal">In passing through the court-yard, the first person the young -gentleman encountered was Seigneur André the fool, who at once began -upon the subject of the child with a good deal of malevolence. "Ah, -ha! Mr. Secretary," he said, "I want to roam the forests with you, and -find out the baby-tree that bears living acorns. On my faith, the duke -ought to knight you with his own hand, being the guide of ladies, and -the protector of orphans, the defender of women and children."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My good friend," replied Jean Charost, "I think he ought to promote -you also. I have heard of a good many gentlemen of your profession; -but all the rest are mere pretenders to you. The others only call -themselves fools; you are one in reality;" and with these tart words, -excited as much, perhaps, by some new feeling of doubt and perplexity -in his own mind, as by the jester's evident ill will toward him, he -walked on and sought his own chamber.</p> - -<p class="normal">The rest of the day passed without any incident worthy of notice, -except some little annoyance which the young secretary had to endure -from a very general feeling of ill will toward him among those who had -been longer in the service of the Duke of Orleans than himself. He was -unconscious, indeed, of deserving it, but one of the sad lessons of -the world was being learned: that success and favor create bitter -enemies; and he had already made some progress in the study. He took -no notice, therefore, of hints, jests, and insinuations, but sought -his own room as soon as supper was over, and remained reading for -nearly an hour. At the end of that time, one of the duke's menial -attendants entered, saying briefly, "Monsieur De Brecy, his highness -has asked to see you in his toilet chamber."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost followed immediately, and found the duke seated in his -furred dressing-gown, as if prepared to retire to rest. His face was -grave, and there was a certain degree of sternness about it which Jean -Charost had never remarked there before. He spoke kindly, however, and -bade the young gentleman be seated.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I hear from the duchess, my friend," he said, "that you have well and -earnestly executed the task I gave you to perform, and I thank you. I -wish, however, to hear some more particular account of your journey -from your own lips. You arrived, it seems, at Blois sooner than I -imagined you could have accomplished the journey. You must have ridden -hard."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I lost no time, your highness," answered Jean Charost; "but an event -happened on the road which made me ride one whole night without -stopping, although the horses were very tired. It is absolutely -necessary, when you have leisure, that I should relate to your -highness all the particulars of that night's adventure, as they may be -of importance, the extent of which I can not judge."</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke smiled with a well-pleased look. "Tell me all about it now," -he said. "I shall not go to bed for an hour; so we shall have time -enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">Succinctly, but as clearly and minutely as possible, Jean Charost then -related to the prince all that had occurred between himself and the -Duke of Burgundy, and took especial care to mention his visit to the -house of the astrologer, and his having been guided by a stranger on -the way to Blois. The duke listened with a countenance varying a good -deal, sometimes assuming an expression of deep grave thought, and at -others of gay, almost sarcastic merriment. At length he laughed -outright.</p> - -<p class="normal">"See what handles," he said, "men will make of very little things! But -truth and honesty will put down all. I am glad you have frankly told -me all this, De Brecy."</p> - -<p class="normal">Then he paused again for a moment or two, and added, abruptly, "My -good cousin of Burgundy--he was always the most curious and -inquisitive of men. I do believe this was all curiosity, my friend. I -do not think he meant you any evil, or me either. He wanted to know -all; for he is a very suspicious man."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think, sir, he is one of the most disagreeable men I ever saw," -replied Jean Charost. "Even his condescension has something scornful -in it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And yet, De Brecy," replied the duke, "out of this very simple affair -of your meeting with John of Burgundy, there be people who would have -fain manufactured a charge against you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost gazed in the duke's race with some surprise, never having -dreamed that the intelligence of what had occurred on the road could -have reached him so soon. "I am surprised that Armand should attribute -any evil to me, sir," he said; "for he must have seen how eager I was -to escape."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Acquit poor Armand," said the duke. "He had naught to do with the -affair; but you have enemies in this house, De Brecy, who will find -that their master understands courts and courtiers, and will never -shake my good opinion of you, so long as you are honest and frank with -me. They set on that malicious fool, André, to pick out some mischief -from Armand Chauvin. He got him to relate all that had happened, and -then, when I sent for the fool to divert me for half an hour, he told -me, with his wise air, that you had had a secret interview with the -Duke of Burgundy, which lasted several hours. It is strange how near -half a truth sometimes comes to a whole lie! They have not been -wanting in their friendship for you during your absence. Nevertheless, -I doubt not you could explain all their tales as easily as you have -done this--even if you have committed some slight indiscretion, I have -no right to tax you. Well, well--good-night. Some day I will say -something more, as your friend--as one who has more experience--as one -who has suffered, if he has sinned."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thank your highness," replied Jean Charost, "and will not presume -to intrude upon you further to-night; but there is one matter of much -importance to myself--of none to your highness--which I would fain -communicate to you for counsel and direction in my inexperience, when -you can give me a few minutes' audience."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha!" said the duke; but as he spoke the clock of the castle struck -eleven, and saying, "To-morrow morning--to-morrow morning I will send -for you," he suffered the young secretary to retire.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">In the court-yard of the château of Beauté--a long, but -somewhat -narrow parallelogram--were assembled most of the male members of the -Duke of Orleans's household, two days after the return of Jean Charost -from Blois. Some were on horseback, and some on foot; and nine or ten -of the younger men were armed with a long ash staff, shaped somewhat -like a lance, while the rest of the party were in their ordinary -riding-dresses, with no arms but the customary sword and dagger. All -these were gathered together at one end of the court, while a -trumpeter, holding his trumpet with its bell-shaped mouth leaning on -his hip, was placed a little in advance.</p> - -<p class="normal">At the other end of the court stood a column of wood, perhaps six feet -in height, surmounted by a grotesque-looking carved image, -representing the upper part of a man, with both arms extended, and a -long, heavy cudgel in each hand. After a moment's pause, and a -consultation among the elder heads, one of the inferior servants was -sent forward for purposes that will speedily be shown, to act as, what -was called, master of the <i>Quintain</i>; but he took care to place -himself beyond the sweep of the cudgel in the hand of the image so -called.</p> - -<p class="normal">The sport about to begin was of very ancient date, and had been -generally superseded by somewhat more graceful exercises; but the Duke -of Orleans was very fond of old customs, and had revived many -chivalrous sports which had fallen out of use. At a signal from -Monsieur Blaize, who was on foot, the trumpeter put his instrument of -noise to his lips, and blew a blast which, well understood, ranged the -young cavaliers instantly in line, and then, after a moment's pause, -sounded a charge. One of the party instantly sprung forward, lance in -rest, toward the Quintain, aiming directly at the centre of the head -of the figure. He was quite a young lad, and his arm not very steady, -so that he somewhat missed his mark, and struck the figure on the -cheek. Moving on a pivot, the Quintain whirled round under the blow, -with the arms still extended, and, as the horse carried the youth on, -he must have received a tremendous stroke from the wooden cudgel on -his back, had he not bent down to his horse's neck, so that the blow -passed over him. Some laughed; but Juvenel de Royans, who was the next -but one to follow, exclaimed aloud, "That's not fair."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Quite fair, I think," replied Jean Charost, who was near.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What do you know about it?" cried the other, impetuously. "Keep -yourself to pens, and things you understand."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I may, perhaps, understand it better than you, Monsieur De Royans," -replied Jean Charost, quite calmly. "It is the favorite game at -Bourges, and we consider that the next best point to hitting the -Quintain straight, is to avoid the blow."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That's the coward's point, I suppose," said Juvenel de Royans.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hush! hush!" cried Monsieur Blaize. "Silence, sir. Sound again, -trumpet!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Another ran his course, struck the Quintain better, but did not -dismount it; and De Royans succeeded striking the figure right in the -middle of the forehead, and shaking the whole post, but still leaving -the wooden image standing.</p> - -<p class="normal">The great feat of the game was, not only to aim the spear so fair as -to avoid turning the figure in the least, but so low that the least -raising of the point at the same time threw it backward from its -pivot. But this was a somewhat dangerous manœuvre; for the chest of -the image being quite flat, and unmarked by any central point, the -least deviation to the right or left swung round one of the cudgels -with tremendous force, and the young gentleman did not venture to -attempt it.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost, however, who, as a mere boy, had been trained to the -exercise by his father, aimed right at the breast; but he paid for his -temerity by a severe blow, which called forth a shout of laughter from -De Royans and his companions. Others followed, who fared as badly, -without daring as much.</p> - -<p class="normal">Each time the Quintain was moved, the servant who had been sent -forward readjusted it with the greatest care, and when each of the -young men had run his course, the troop commenced again.</p> - -<p class="normal">The rivalry between De Royans and De Brecy was by this time a -well-understood thing in the château, and little heed was paid to the -running of the rest till it came to the turn of the former. He then, -with a sort of mock courtesy, besought Jean Charost to take his turn, -saying, "You are the superior officer, sir, and, to say truth, I would -fain learn that dexterous trick of yours, if you venture upon it -again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I certainly shall," replied Jean Charost, "and I shall be happy to -teach you that, or better things. I will run first. The Quintain is -not straight," he continued, calling to the master of the Quintain. -"Advance the right arm an inch."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was some little dispute as to whether the Quintain was straight -or not, but in the end the trumpet again sounded. Jean Charost, with a -better aim, hit the figure in the middle of the chest, and raising his -arm lightly at the same instant, threw it back upon the ground. Then -wheeling his horse, while the servant replaced it, he returned to his -post. But no one said "Well done," except old Monsieur Blaize; and -Juvenel de Royans bit his lip, with a red spot on his cheek.</p> - -<p class="normal">Rash, confident, and angry, he took no pains to see that the figure -was exactly straight, but dashed forward when the trumpet sounded, -resolved not to be outdone, aiming directly at the chest. Whether his -horse swerved, or the figure was not well adjusted, I do not know; but -he hit it considerably to the right of the centre, and, as he was -carried forward, the merciless cudgel struck him a blow on the back of -the neck which hurled him out of the saddle to the ground.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost did not laugh; but he could not refrain from a smile, -which caught De Royans's eyes as he led his horse back again. The -latter was dizzy and confused, however, and for a moment, after he had -given his horse to a servant, he stood gnawing his lip, without -uttering a word to any one. At length, as the others were running -their course, however, he walked up to the side of Jean Charost, who -was now a little apart from the rest, and some quick words and meaning -glances were seen to pass between them. Their voices grew louder; De -Royans touched the hilt of his sword; and Jean Charost nodded his -head, saying something in a low tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"For shame! for shame!" said Monsieur Blaize, approaching; but, ere he -could add more, a casement just above their heads opened, and the -voice of the Duke of Orleans was heard.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Juvenel de Royans," he said, "have you any inclination for a dungeon? -There are cells to fit you under the castle; and, as I live, you shall -enjoy one if you broil in my household. I know you, sir; so be warned. -De Brecy, come here; I want you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost immediately dismounted, gave his horse to Martin Grille, -and ascended to the gallery from which the Duke of Orleans had been -watching the sports of the morning. It was a large room, -communicating, by a door in the midst and a small vestibule, with that -famous picture-gallery which has been already mentioned. Voices were -heard talking beyond; but the duke, after his young secretary's -arrival, continued for a few minutes walking up and down the same -chamber in which Jean Charost found him, leaning lightly on his arm.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know not how it is, my young friend," he said, in a sort of musing -tone, "but the people here are clearly not very fond of you. However, -I must insist that you take no notice whatever of that peevish boy, De -Royans."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am most willing, sir," said Jean Charost, "to live at peace with -him and every one else, provided they will leave me at peace likewise. -I have given neither him nor them any matter for offense, and yet I -will acknowledge that since my first entrance into your highness's -household, I have met with little but enmity from any but good -Monsieur Blaize and Signor Lomelini, who are both, I believe, my -friends."</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke mused very gravely, and then replied, "I know not how it is. -To me it seems that there is nothing in your demeanor and conduct but -that which should inspire kindness, and even respect. And yet," he -continued, after a moment's pause, his face brightening with a gay, -intelligent smile, not uncommon upon it when that acuteness, which -formed one point in his very varied character, was aroused, by some -accidental circumstance, from the slumber into which it sometimes -fell--"and yet I am a fool to say I do not know how it is. I do know -right well, my young friend. Men of power and station do not enough -consider that all who surround them are more or less engaged in a -race, whose rivalry necessarily deviates into enmity; and their favor, -whenever it is given, is followed by the ill will of many toward the -single possessor. The more just and the more generous of the -competitors content themselves with what they can obtain, or, at -all events, do not deny some portion of merit to a more fortunate -rival; but the baser and the meaner spirits--and they are the most -numerous--not only envy, but hate; not only hate, but calumniate."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am most grateful, sir, for all your kindness toward me," replied -Jean Charost; "but I can not at all attribute the enmity of Monsieur -de Royans, or any of the rest, to jealousy of your favor, for from the -moment I entered your household it was the same."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oil and water do not easily mix," answered the duke. "The qualities -for which I esteem you make them hate you; not that your character and -mine are at all alike--very, very different. But there be some -substances, which, though most opposite to others, easily mingle with -them; others which, with more apparent similarity, are totally -repugnant. Your feelings are not my feelings, your thoughts not my -thoughts, yet I can comprehend and appreciate you; these men can not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am afraid, sir," said Jean Charost, "that I owe your good opinion -more to a prepossession in my favor than to any meritorious acts of my -own; for, indeed, I have had no opportunity of serving you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, you have, greatly," replied the duke; "not perhaps by acts, but -by words, which prove often the greatest services. He who influences a -man's mind, De Brecy, affects him more than he who influences his mere -earthly fortunes. I have often thought," he continued, in a musing -tone, "that we are never sufficiently grateful to those by whose -writings, by whose example, by whose speech, our hearts, our feelings, -or our reason have been formed and perfected. The mind has a fortune -as well as the body, and the latter is inferior to the former. But set -your mind at rest; they can not affect my opinion toward you. There is -but one thing which has puzzled me a little; this child, which they -tell me has been placed by you at one of the cottages hard by, I would -fain know who are its parents."</p> - -<p class="normal">"On that subject I can tell your highness nothing," replied Jean -Charost; "but the whole history, as far as I can give it, I will -give."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hush!" said the duke, looking toward the picture-gallery, the door -from which was opened by the duchess at that moment.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is nothing, sir, that I am afraid or ashamed to tell before the -duchess," replied Jean Charost. "The case may be strange; but, as far -as it affects me, it is a very simple one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then," said the duke, turning to the duchess, who was advancing -slowly and somewhat timidly, "you shall speak on, and your narrative -shall be our morning's amusement."</p> - -<p class="normal">His whole air changed in a moment; and, with a gay and sparkling look, -he said to the duchess, "Come hither, my sweet wife, and assist at the -trial of this young offender. He is charged before me of preaching -rather than practicing, of frowning, like a Franciscan, on all the -lighter offenses of love; and yet, what think you, I am told he has a -fair young lady, who has followed him hither, and is boarded by him in -one of the cottages just below the castle, when I do believe that, -were I but to give a glance at any pretty maiden, I should have as -sour a look as antique abbess ever gave to wavering nun."</p> - -<p class="normal">The duchess looked in Jean Charost's face for an instant, and then -said, "I'll be his surety, sir, that the tale is false."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not so, indeed, your highness," replied Jean Charost. "The tale is -mostly true; but the duke should have added that this fair maid can -not be three months old."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Worse and worse!" cried the duke; "you can not escape penance for one -sin, my friend, by pleading a still greater one. But tell us how all -this happened; let us hear your defense."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is a plain and true one, sir," replied Jean Charost. "The very -morning after our arrival here, I rode out for exercise, accompanied -only by my lackey, Martin Grille. In a wood, perhaps four miles -distant, we saw the smoke of a fire rising up not far from the road. -My man is city born, and full of city fears. He fancied that every -tree concealed a plunderer, and though he did not infect me with his -apprehensions, he excited my curiosity about this fire; so--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Judging that a fire must have some one to light it," said the duke, -"you went to see. That much has been told in every nook of the house, -from the garret to the guest-chamber. What happened next?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I tracked the marks of horse's feet," said Jean Charost, "from the -road through the wood, some hundred yards into the bushes, catching -the smoke still rising blue among the dark brown trees, and, of -course, appearing nearer as I went. I heard people talking loud, too, -and therefore fancied that I could get still nearer without being -seen. But suddenly, two men, who were lying hid hard by the path I had -taken, started out and seized me, crying 'Here is a spy--a spy!' A -number of others rushed up shouting and swearing, and I was soon -dragged on to the spot where the fire was lighted, which was a small -open space beneath an old beech-tree. There I found some three or four -others lying on the snow, all fully armed but one. Horses were -standing tied around. A lance was here and there leaning against the -trees, and battle-axes and maces were at many a saddle-bow; but I must -say that the harness was somewhat rusty, and the faces of my new -acquaintances not very clean or trim. The one who was unarmed, and who -I supposed was a prisoner like myself, stood before the fire with his -arms crossed on his chest. He was a tall man of middle age, with his -hair very gray, somewhat plainly dressed, but with an air of stern, -grave dignity not easily forgotten."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Had he no arms at all?" asked the duke.</p> - -<p class="normal">"None whatever, sir," replied Jean Charost; "not even sword or dagger. -One large, bulky man, lying as quietly on the snow as if it had been a -bed of down, had his feet to the fire, and, resting between them, I -saw, to my surprise, a young child, well wrapped up, with nothing but -the face peeping out, and sleeping soundly on a bed of pine branches. -I should weary your highness with all that happened. At first it -seemed that they would take my life, vowing that I had come to spy out -their movements; then they would have had me go with them and make one -of their band, giving me the choice of that or death. As I chose the -latter, they were about to give it me without much ceremony, when the -unarmed man interfered, in a tone of authority I had not expected to -hear him use. He commanded them, in short, to desist; and, after -whispering for a moment or two with the bulky man I have mentioned, he -pointed to the child, and told me that, if I would swear most solemnly -to guard and protect her, to be a father to her, and to see that she -was nourished and educated in innocence and truth, they would let me -go."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did you know the man?" asked the Duke of Orleans, with a look of more -interest than he had before displayed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, sir," replied the young secretary. "A faint, faint recollection -of having somewhere seen a face like his I assuredly did feel; but he -certainly seemed to know me, spoke of me as one attached to your -highness, and asked how long I had left Paris. His words were wild and -whirling, indeed; a few sentences he would speak correctly enough; but -they seemed forced from him, as if with pain, straining his eye upon -the fire or upon the ground, and falling into silence again as soon as -they were uttered."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Was he some merchant, perhaps?" asked the duke; "some one who has had -dealings with our friend, Jacques Cœur?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He was no merchant, sir," said Jean Charost; "but I think, if ever I -did see him before, it must have been with Jacques Cœur, for he had -dealings with many men of high degree; and I doubt not that this -person, however plain his garb and strange his demeanor, is a man of -noble blood and a high name."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man paused, as if there were more to be said which he -hesitated to utter; and then, after giving a somewhat anxious glance -toward the duchess, he added, "I may remember more incidents -hereafter, sir, which I will not fail to tell you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did he give you no sign or token with this child," asked the duke, -"by which one may trace her family and history? Did he tell you -nothing of her parents?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He said he was not her father," replied Jean Charost, gravely; "but -that was all the information he afforded. He gave me this ring, too," -continued the young man, producing one, "and a purse of gold pieces to -pay for her nourishment."</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke took the ring and examined it carefully; but it was merely a -plain gold circle without any distinctive mark. Nevertheless, Jean -Charost thought his master's hand shook a little as he held the ring, -and the duchess, who was looking over her husband's shoulder, said, -"It is a strange story. Pray, tell me, Monsieur de Brecy, was this -gentleman the same who spoke to you at the inn-door upon the road?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The same, madam," replied Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who was he? Did you ever see him before?" asked the duke, turning -toward his wife with an eager look.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Never," answered the duchess; "but he was a very singular and -distinguished-looking man. He was a gentleman assuredly, and I should -think a soldier; for he had a deep scar upon the forehead which cut -straight through the right eyebrow."</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke returned the ring to Jean Charost in silence; but the moment -after he turned so deadly pale that the duchess exclaimed, "You are -ill, my lord. You have exerted yourself too much to-day. You forget -your late sickness, and how weak you are."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no," replied the duke. "I feel somewhat faint: it will pass by in -a moment. Let us go into the picture-gallery. I will sit down there in -the sunshine."</p> - -<p class="normal">Without reply, the duchess put her arm through his, and led him onward -to the gallery, making a sign for Jean Charost to follow; and the -duke, seating himself in a large chair, gazed over the walls, still -marked by a lighter color here and there where a picture had lately -hung.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Those walls must be cleaned," he said, at length; "though I doubt if -the traces can be obliterated."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, yes," answered the duchess, in a tone of sportive tenderness; -"there is no trace of any of man's acts which can not be effaced, -either by his own deeds, or his friend's efforts, or his God's -forgiveness."</p> - -<p class="normal">She spoke to his thoughts rather than to his words, and the duke took -her hand, and pressed his lips upon it. Then, turning to Jean Charost, -he pointed to the picture of the duchess, saying, "Is not that one -worthy to remain when all the rest are gone?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Most worthy, sir," replied the young secretary, a little puzzled what -to answer. "The others were mere daubs to that."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What, then, you saw them?" said the duchess.</p> - -<p class="normal">"His hands burned them," replied the duke.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That strange man whom we met," replied the duchess, "declared that he -was faithful and true, where all were false and deceitful; and so he -will be to us, Louis. Trust him, my husband--trust him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will," replied the duke. "But here comes Lomelini."</p> - -<p class="normal">The duchess drew herself up, cast off the tender kindliness of her -look, and assumed a cold and icy stateliness; and the duke, inclining -his head to Jean Charost, added, "Leave us now, my young friend. This -afternoon or evening I shall have need of you. Then we will speak -further; so be not far off."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost bowed and retired; and, turning to the maître d'hôtel, -the duke said, in a low voice, "Set Blaize, or some one you can trust, -to watch that young man. There have been high words between him and -Juvenel de Royans. See that nothing comes of it. If you remark any -thing suspicious, confine De Royans to his chamber, and set a guard."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Does your highness mean De Royans alone or both?" asked Lomelini, -softly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"De Royans," answered the duke, sharply. "The one in fault, sir--the -one always in fault. See my orders in train of execution, and then -return."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">All great events are made up of small incidents. The world is -composed -of atoms, and so is Fate. A man pulling a small bit of iron under a -gun performs an act, abstractedly of not much greater importance than -a lady when she pins her dress; but let this small incident be -combined with three other facts: that of there being a cartridge in -the gun; that of twenty thousand men all pulling their triggers at the -same moment; that of there being twenty thousand men opposite, and you -have the glorious event of a great battle, with its long sequence of -misery and joy, glory and shame, affecting the world, perhaps, to the -end of time.</p> - -<p class="normal">Two little incidents occurred at the château of Beauté during the day, -the commencement of which we have just noticed, not apparently very -much worthy of remark, but which, nevertheless, must be noted down in -this very accurate piece of chronology. The first was the arrival of a -courier, whose face Jean Charost knew, though it was some time before -he could fix it to the neck and shoulders of a man whom he had seen at -Pithiviers, not in the colors of the house of Burgundy, but in those -of fair Madame de Giac. The letter he bore was addressed to the Duke -of Orleans, and it evidently troubled him--threw him into a fit of -musing--occupied his thoughts for some moments--and made the duchess -somewhat anxious lest evil news had reached her lord.</p> - -<p class="normal">He did not tell her the contents of the note, however, nor return any -answer at the time, but sent the man away with largesse, saying he -would write.</p> - -<p class="normal">The next incident was another arrival, that of a party of three or -four gentlemen from Paris who were invited to stay at the château of -Beauté that night, and who supped with the duke and duchess in the -great hall. The duke's face was exceedingly cheerful, and his health -was evidently-improved since the morning, when some secret cause -seemed to have moved and depressed him a great deal.</p> - -<p class="normal">The conversation principally turned upon the events which had lately -taken place in Paris. They were generally of little moment; but one -piece of intelligence the strangers brought was evidently, to the duke -at least, of greater importance than the rest. The guests reported -confidently that the unhappy king, Charles the Sixth, had shown -decided symptoms of one of those periodical returns to reason which -checkered with occasional bright gleams his dark and melancholy -career. The duke seemed greatly pleased, mused upon the tidings, -questioned his informant closely, but uttered not his own thoughts, -whatever they might be, and retired to rest at an early hour.</p> - -<p class="normal">During the whole of that day, without absenting himself for any length -of time from his own apartments, Jean Charost wandered a good deal -about the castle, and, to say sooth, looked somewhat impatiently for -Juvenel de Royans in every place where he was likely to be met with. -He did not find him any where, however; and, on asking Signor Lomelini -where he should find the young gentleman, he was informed, dryly, that -Monsieur De Royans was particularly engaged in some affairs of the -duke's, and would not like to be disturbed.</p> - -<p class="normal">The evening passed somewhat dully for Jean Charost, for he confined -himself almost altogether to his own apartments, expecting every -moment that the prince would send for him; but in this he was -disappointed. He did not venture to retire to rest till nearly -midnight; but then he slept as soundly as in life's happiest days; and -he was only awakened in the morning by the sound of a trumpet, -announcing, as he rightly judged, the departure of the preceding -evening's guests.</p> - -<p class="normal">He was dressing himself slowly and quietly, when Martin Grille bustled -into the room, exclaiming, "Quick, sir, quick! or you will have no -breakfast. Have you not heard the news? The duke sets out in half an -hour for Paris, and you will be wanted, of course. Half the household -stays here with the duchess. We go with twenty lances and the lay -brethren, of which class--praised be God for all things!--you and I -may consider ourselves."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have had no commands," replied Jean Charost; "but I will be ready, -at all events."</p> - -<p class="normal">Not many minutes elapsed, however, ere a notification reached him that -he would be required to accompany the prince to the capital. All speed -was made, and breakfast hastily eaten; but haste was unnecessary, for -an hour or two elapsed before the cavalcade set out, and it did not -reach Paris till toward the close of the day. The duke looked -fatigued; and, as he dismounted in the court-yard of his hotel, he -called Lomelini to him, saying, "Let me have some refreshment in my -own chamber, Lomelini. Send to the prior of the Celestins, saying that -I wish to see him to-morrow at noon. There will be a banquet, too, at -night. Twelve persons will be invited, of high degree. De Brecy, I -have something to say to you."</p> - -<p class="normal">He then walked on up the steps into the house, Jean Charost following -close; and after a moment or two, he turned, saying in a low voice, -"Come to me as the clock strikes nine--come privately--by the -toilet-chamber door. Enter at once, without knocking."</p> - -<p class="normal">Several of the other attendants were following at some distance; but -the duke spoke almost in a whisper, and his words were not heard. Jean -Charost bowed, and fell back; but Lomelini, who had now become -exceedingly affectionate again to the young secretary, said in his -ear, "Come and sup in my room in half an hour. They will fare but ill -in the hall to-night; for nothing is prepared here; but we will -contrive to do better."</p> - -<p class="normal">A few minutes afterward, the duke having been conducted to his chamber -door, the attendants separated, and Jean Charost betook himself to his -own rooms, where Martin Grille was already busily engaged in arranging -his apparel in the large fixed coffers with which each chamber was -furnished. There was a sort of nervous anxiety in the good man's -manner, which struck his master the moment he entered; but laying his -sword on the table, and seating himself by it, Jean Charost fell into -a quiet, and somewhat pleasing fit of musing, just sufficiently awake -to external things to remark that ever and anon Martin stopped his -work and gave a quick glance at his face. At length the young -gentleman rose, made some change in his apparel, removed the traces of -travel from his person, and buckled on his sword again.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pray, sit," said Martin Grille, in a tone of fear and trepidation. -"pray, sir, don't go through the little hall; for that boisterous, -good-for-nothing bully, Juvenel de Royans, is there all alone, -watching for you, I am sure. He was freed from his arrest this -morning, and he would have fallen upon you on the road, I dare say, if -there had not been so many persons round."</p> - -<p class="normal">"His arrest?" said Jean Charost. "How came he in arrest?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"On account of his quarrel with you yesterday morning. Monsieur De -Brecy," replied Martin Grille. "Did you not know it? All the household -heard of it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have been deceived," answered Jean Charost. "Signor Lomelini told -me he was engaged when I inquired for him. But you are mistaken, -Martin: a few sharp words do not make exactly a quarrel, and there was -no need of placing De Royans under arrest. It was a very useless -precaution; so much so, indeed, that I think you must be mistaken. He -must have given some offense to the duke: he gave none to me that -could not easily be settled."</p> - -<p class="normal">He then paused for a moment or two in thought, and added, "Wait here -till I return, and if De Royans should come, tell him I am supping -with Signor Lomelini, but will be back soon. Do as I order you, and -make no remonstrance, if you please."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he left the room, and bent his steps at once toward -the little hall, leaving at some distance on the right the great -dining-hall, from which loud sounds of merriment were breaking forth. -He hardly expected to find Juvenel de Royans still in the place where -Martin Grille had seen him; for the sound of gay voices was ever ready -to lead him away. On opening the door, however, the faint light in the -room showed him a figure at the other end, beyond the table, moodily -pacing to and fro from one side of the room to the other; and Jean -Charost needed no second glance to tell him who it was. He advanced -directly toward him, taking a diagonal line across the hall, so that -De Royans could not suppose he was merely passing through.</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man instantly halted, and faced him; but Jean Charost spoke -first, saying, "My varlet told me, Monsieur De Royans, that you were -here alone, and as I could not find you yesterday, when I sought for -you, I am glad of the opportunity of speaking a few words with you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Sought for me!" cried De Royans. "Methinks no one ought to have known -better where I was than yourself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are mistaken," replied Jean Charost. "I asked Signor Lomelini -where I could find you, and he told me you would be occupied all day -in some business of the duke's."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The lying old pander!" exclaimed De Royans, bitterly. "But our -business may be soon settled, De Brecy. If you are inclined to risk a -thrust here, I am ready for you. No place makes any difference in my -eyes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"In mine it does," replied Jean Charost, very quietly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are not a coward, I suppose," cried the young man, impetuously.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I believe not," replied Jean Charost; "and there are few things that -I should be less afraid of than risking a thrust with you, Monsieur de -Royans, in any proper place and circumstances. Here, in a royal house, -you ought to be well aware we should subject ourselves, by broiling, -to disgraceful punishment, and we can well afford to wait for a more -fitting opportunity, which I will not fail to give you, if you desire -it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Of course I do," replied Juvenel de Royans.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not see the of course," replied Jean Charost. "I have never -injured you in any thing, never insulted you in any way, have borne, -perhaps too patiently, injury and insult from you, and have certainly -the most cause to complain."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, I am ready to satisfy you," exclaimed De Royans, with a laugh, -"on horseback or on foot, with lance and shield, or sword and dagger. -Do not let us spoil a good quarrel with silly explanations. We are -both of one mind, it seems; let us settle preliminaries at once."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have not time to settle all preliminaries now," replied Jean -Charost; "for I am expected in another place; but so far we can -arrange our plan. The day after to-morrow I will ask the duke's -permission to go for three days to Mantes. I will return at once to -Meudon. You can easily get out of Paris for an hour or two, and join -me there at the <i>auberge</i>. Then a ten minutes' walk will place us -where we can settle our dispute without risk to the survivor."</p> - -<p class="normal">"On my life, this is gallant!" cried De Royans, with a considerable -change of expression. "You are a lad of spirit after all, De Brecy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have insulted my father's memory by supposing otherwise," replied -Jean Charost. "But do not let us add bitterness to our quarrel. We -understand each other. Whenever you hear I am gone to Mantes, remember -you will find me the next day at Meudon--and so good-night."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he left him, and hurried to the eating-room of Lomelini, -who would fain have extracted from him what the duke had said to him -as they passed into the house; but Jean Charost was upon his guard, -and, as soon as supper was over, returned to his own chamber.</p> - -<p class="normal">Martin Grille, though he had quick eyes, could discover no trace of -emotion on his young master's countenance; and desperately tired of -his solitary watch, he gladly received his dismissal for the night. A -few minutes after, Jean Charost issued from his room again, and walked -with a silent step to the door of the duke's toilet-chamber. No -attendants were in waiting, as was usual, and following the directions -he had received, he opened the door and entered. He was surprised to -find the prince dressed in mantle and hood, as if ready to go out; but -upon the table before him was lying a perfumed note, open, and another -fastened, with rose-colored silk, and sealed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Welcome, De Brecy," said the duke, with a gay and smiling air; "I -wish you to render me a service, my friend. You must take this note -for me to-night to the house of Madame De Giac, give it into her own -hand, hear what she says, and bring me her answer. I shall be at the -queen's palace, near the Porte Barbette."</p> - -<p class="normal">The blood rushed up into Jean Charost's face, covering it over with a -woman-like blush. It was the most painful moment he had ever as yet -experienced in existence. His mind instantly rushed to a conclusion -from premises that he could hardly define to his own mind, much less -explain to the Duke of Orleans. He fancied himself employed in the -basest of services--used for the most disgraceful of purposes; and yet -nothing had been said which could justify him in refusing to obey. -Whether he would or not, however, and before he could consider, the -words "Oh, sir!" burst from his lips, and his face spoke the rest -plainly enough.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Duke of Orleans gazed at him with a frowning brow and a flashing -eye, and then demanded, in a loud, stern tone, "What is it you mean, -sir?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost was silent for an instant, and then replied, with painful -embarrassment, "I hardly know what I mean, your highness--I may be -wrong, and doubtless am wrong--but I feared that the errand on which -your highness sends me might be one unbecoming me to execute, and -which your highness might afterward regret to have given." He had gone -the step too far, so dangerous with the spoiled children of fortune.</p> - -<p class="normal">The anger of the duke was excessive. He spoke loud and sharply, -reproached his young secretary for presuming upon his kindness and -condescension, and reproved him in no very measured terms for daring -to intermeddle with his affairs; and Jean Charost, feeling at his -heart that he had most assuredly exceeded, perhaps, the bounds of due -respect, had come to conclusions for which there was no apparent -foundation, and had suffered his suspicions to display themselves -offensively, stood completely cowed before the prince. When the duke -at length stopped, he answered, in a tone of sincere grief, "I feel -that I have erred, sir, greatly erred, and that I should have obeyed -your commands without even presuming to judge of them. Pray remember, -however, that I am very young, perhaps too young for the important -post I fill. If your highness dismisses me from your service, I can -not be surprised; but believe me, sir, wherever I go, I shall carry -with me the same feelings of gratitude and affection which had no -small share in prompting the very conduct which has given you just -offense."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Affection and gratitude!" said the duke, still in an angry tone. -"What can affection and gratitude have to do with disobedience to my -commands, and impertinent intrusion into my affairs?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"They might, sir," answered Jean Charost; "for your highness -communicated to me at a former time some regrets, and I witnessed the -happiness and calm of mind which followed the noble impulses that -prompted them. Gratitude and affection, then, made me grieve to think -that this very letter which I hold in my hand might give cause to -fresh regrets, or perhaps to serious perils; for I am bound to say -that I doubt this lady; that I doubt her affection or friendship for -your highness; that I am sure she is linked most closely to your -enemies."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You should not have judged of my acts at all," replied the Duke of -Orleans. "What I do not communicate to you, you have no business to -investigate. Your judgment of the lady may be right or wrong; but in -your judgment of my conduct you are altogether wrong. There is nothing -in that note which I ever can regret, and, could you see its contents, -you would learn at once the danger and presumption of intruding into -what does not concern you. To give you the lesson, I must not -sacrifice my dignity; and though, in consideration of your youth, your -inexperience, and your good intentions, I will overlook your error in -the present instance, remember it must not be repeated."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost moved toward the door, while the duke remained in -thought; but, before he reached it, the prince's voice was heard, -exclaiming, in a more placable tone, "De Brecy, De Brecy, do you know -the way?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"As little in this case as in the last," replied Jean Charost, with a -faint smile.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come hither, come hither, poor youth," cried the duke, holding out -his hand to him good-humoredly. "There; think no more of it. All young -men will be fools now and then. Now go and get a horse. You will find -my mule saddled in the court. Wait there till I come. I am going to -visit my fair sister, the queen, who is ill at the Hôtel Barbette, and -we pass not far from the place to which you are going. I will direct -you, so that you can not mistake."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost hurried away, and was ready in a few minutes. In the -court he found a cream-colored mule richly caparisoned, and two horses -saddled, with a few attendants on foot around; but the duke had not -yet appeared. When he did come, four of the party mounted, and rode -slowly on through the moonlight streets of Paris, which were now -silent, and almost deserted. After going about half a mile, the duke -reined in his mule, and pointing down another street which branched -off on the right, directed Jean Charost to follow it, and take the -second turning on the left. "The first hotel," he added, "on the right -is the house you want. Then return to this street, follow it out to -the end, and you will see the Hôtel Barbette before you. Bring me -thither an account of your reception."</p> - -<p class="normal">His tone was grave, and even melancholy; and Jean Charost merely bowed -his head in silence. He gave one glance at the duke's face, from which -all trace of anger had passed away, and then they parted--never to -meet again.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Standing in the street, at the door of the house to which he -had been -directed, Jean Charost found a common-looking man, whose rank or -station was hardly to be divined by his dress; and drawing up his -horse beside him, he asked if Madame De Giac lived there.</p> - -<p class="normal">"She is here," replied the man. "What do you want with her?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have a letter to deliver to her," answered lean Charost, briefly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Give it to me," replied the man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That can not be," answered the young secretary. "It must be -delivered by me into her own hand."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who is it from?" inquired the other. "She does not see strangers at -this hour of the night."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young secretary was somewhat puzzled what to reply, for a -lingering suspicion made him unwilling to give the name of the duke; -but he had not been told to conceal it, and seeing no other way of -obtaining admission, he answered, after a moment's consideration, "It -is from his highness of Orleans, and I must beg you to use dispatch."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will see if she will admit you," replied the man; "but come into -the court, at all events. You will soon have your answer."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he opened the large wooden gates of the yard, and, as -soon as Jean Charost had entered, closed and fastened them securely. -There was a certain degree of secrecy and mystery about the whole -proceeding, a want of that bustle and parade common in great houses in -Paris, which confirmed the preconceived suspicions of Jean Charost, -and made him believe that a woman of gallantry was waiting for the -visit of a prince whose devotion to her sex was but too well known. -Dismounting, he stood by his horse's side, while the man quietly -glided through a door, hardly perceivable in the obscurity of one dark -corner in the court-yard. The moon had already sunk low, and the tall -houses round shadowed the whole of the open space in which the young -secretary stood, so that he could but little see the aspect of the -place, although he had ample time for observation.</p> - -<p class="normal">Nearly ten minutes elapsed before the messenger's return; but then he -came, attended by a page bearing a flambeau, and, in civil terms, -desired the young gentleman to follow him to his mistress's presence.</p> - -<p class="normal">Through ways as narrow and as crooked as the ways of love usually are, -Jean Charost was conducted to a small room, which would nowadays -probably be called a boudoir, where, even without the contrast of the -poor, naked stone passages through which he had passed, every thing -would have appeared luxurious and splendid in the highest degree. -Rumor attributed to the beautiful lady whom he went to visit, a -princely lover, who some years before had commanded an army against -the Ottomans, had received a defeat which rendered him morose and -harsh throughout the rest of life, but had acquired, during an easy -captivity among the Mussulmans, a taste for Oriental luxury, which -never abandoned him. All within the chamber to which Jean Charost was -now introduced spoke that the lady had not been uninfluenced by her -lover's habits. Articles of furniture little known in France were seen -in various parts of the room; piles of cushions, carpets of -innumerable dyes, and low sofas or ottomans; while, even in the midst -of winter, the odor of roses pervaded the whole apartment. Madame de -Giac herself, negligently dressed, but looking wonderfully beautiful, -was reclining on cushions, with a light on a low table by her side, -and, on the approach of Jean Charost, she received him more as an old -and dear friend than a mere accidental acquaintance. A radiant smile -was upon her lips; she made him sit down beside her, and in her tone -there was a blandishing softness, which he felt was very engaging. For -a minute or two she held the letter of the Duke of Orleans unopened in -her hand, while she asked him questions about his journey from -Pithiviers to Blois, and his return. At length, however, she opened -the billet and read it, not so little observed as she imagined -herself; for Jean Charost's eyes were fixed upon her, marking the -various expressions of her countenance. At first, her glance at the -note was careless; but speedily her eyes fixed upon the lines with an -intense, eager look. Her brow contracted, her nostril expanded, her -beautiful upper lip quivered, and that fair face for an instant took -upon it the look of a demon. Suddenly, however, she recollected -herself, smoothed her brow, recalled the wandering lightning of her -eyes and folding the note, she curled it between her fingers, saying, -"I must write an answer, my dear young friend. I will not be long; -wait for me here;" and rising gracefully, she gathered her flowing -drapery around her, and passed out by a door behind the cushions.</p> - -<p class="normal">The door was closed carefully; but Jean Charost had good reason to -believe that the time of Madame De Giac was occupied in other -employment than writing. A murmur of voices was heard, in which her -own sweet tones mingled with others harsher and louder. The words used -could not be distinguished, but the conversation seemed eager and -animated, beginning the moment she entered, and rising and falling in -loudness, as if the speakers were sometimes carried away by the topic, -sometimes fearful of being overheard.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost was no great casuist, and certainly, in all ordinary -cases, he would have felt ashamed to listen to any conversation not -intended for his ears. Neither, on this occasion, did he actually -listen. He moved not from his seat; he even took up and examined a -beautiful golden-sheathed poniard with a jeweled hilt, which lay upon -the table where stood the light. But there was a doubt, a suspicion, -an apprehension of he knew not what in his mind, which, if -well-founded, might perhaps have justified him in his own eyes in -actually trying to hear what was passing; for assuredly he would have -thought it no want of honor thus to detect the devices of an enemy. -The voice of Madame De Giac was not easily forgotten by one who had -once heard it; and the rougher, sterner tones that mingled in the -conversation seemed likewise familiar to the young secretary's ear. -Both those who were speaking he believed to be inimical to his royal -master. He heard nothing distinctly, however, but the last few words -that were spoken.</p> - -<p class="normal">It would seem that Madame De Giac had approached close to the door, -and laid her hand upon the lock, and the other speaker raised his -voice, adding to some words which were lost, the following, in an -imperative tone, "As long as possible, remember--by any means!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Madame De Giac's murmured reply was not intelligible to the young -secretary; but then came a coarse laugh, and the deeper voice -answered, "No, no. I do not mean that; but by force, if need be."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, tell them," said the fair lady; but what was to be told -escaped unheard by Jean Charost; for she dropped her voice lower than -ever, and, a moment after, re-entered the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">Her face was all fair and smiling, and before she spoke, she seated -herself again on the cushions, paused thoughtfully, and, looking at -the dagger which the young gentleman replaced as she entered, said -playfully, "Do not jest with edged tools. I hope you did not take the -poniard out of its sheath. It comes from Italy--from the very town of -the sweet Duchess of Orleans; and they tell me that the point is -poisoned, so that the slightest scratch would produce speedy death. It -has never been drawn since I had it, and never shall be with my will."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I did not presume to draw it," said Jean Charost. "But may I crave -your answer to his highness's note?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"How wonderfully formal we are," said Madame De Giac, with a gay -laugh. "This chivalrous reverence for the fair, which boys are taught -in their school days, is nothing but a sad device of old women and -jealous husbands. It is state, and dress, and grave surroundings, De -Brecy, that makes us divinities. A princess and a page, in a little -cabinet like this, are but a woman and a man. Due propriety, of -course, is right; but forms and reverence all nonsense."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Beauty and rank have both their reverence, madam," replied Jean -Charost. "But at the present moment, all other things aside, I am -compelled to think of his highness's business; for he is waiting for -me now at the Hôtel Barbette, expecting anxiously, I doubt not, your -answer."</p> - -<p class="normal">The conversation that followed does not require detail. Madame De Giac -was prodigal of blandishments, and, skilled in every female art, -contrived to while away some twenty minutes without giving the young -secretary any reply to bear to his master.</p> - -<p class="normal">When at length she found that she could not detain him any longer -without some definite answer, she turned to the subject of the note, -and contrived to waste some more precious time on it.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What if I were to send the duke a very angry message?" she said.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I should certainly deliver it," replied Jean Charost. "But I would -rather that you wrote it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, I have changed my mind about that," she answered. "I will not -write. You may tell him I think him a base, ungrateful man, unworthy -of a lady's letter. Will you tell him that?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Precisely, madam; word for word," replied Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then you are bolder with men than women," replied the lady, with a -laugh slightly sarcastic. "Stay, stay; I have not half done yet. Say -to the duke I am of a forgiving nature, and, if he does proper -penance, and comes to sue for pardon, he may perhaps find mercy. -Whither are you going so fast? You can not get out of this enchanted -castle as easily as you think, good youth; at least not without my -consent."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I pray, then, give it to me, madam," said Jean Charost; "for I really -fear that his highness will be angry at my long delay."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Poor youth! what a frightened thing it is," said the lady. "Well, you -shall go; but let me look at the duke's note again, in case I have any -thing to add;" and she unfolded the billet, which she still held in -her hand, and looked at it by the light. Again Jean Charost marked -that bitter, fiend-like scowl come upon her countenance, and, in this -instance, the feelings that it indicated found some expression in -words.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Either you or his priest are making a monk of him," she said, -bitterly; "but it matters not. Tell him what I have said." And -murmuring a few more indistinct words to herself, she rang a small -silver bell which lay upon the cushions beside her, and the man who -had given Jean Charost admission speedily appeared.</p> - -<p class="normal">The lady looked at him keenly for an instant, and the young secretary -thought he saw a glance of intelligence pass from his face to hers.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Light this young gentleman out," said Madame De Giac. "You are a -young fool, De Brecy," she added, laughingly; "but that is no fault of -yours or mine. Nature made you so, and I can not mend you; and so, -good-night."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost bowed low, and followed the man out of the room; but, as -he did so, he drew his sword-hilt a little forward, not well knowing -what was to come next. Madame De Giac eyed him with a sarcastic smile, -and the door closed upon him.</p> - -<p class="normal">The man lighted him silently, carefully along the narrow, tortuous -passage, and down the steep stair-case by which he had entered, -holding the light low, that he might see his way. When they reached -the small door which led into the court, he unbolted it, and held it -back for the young gentleman to go forth; but the moment Jean Charost -had passed out, the door was closed and bolted.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not very courteous," thought Jean Charost. "But doubtless he takes -his tone from his lady's last words. What a dark night it is?"</p> - -<p class="normal">For a minute or two, in the sudden obscurity after the light was -withdrawn, he could discern none of the objects around him, and it was -not till his eye had become more accustomed to the darkness that he -discovered his horse standing fastened to a ring let into the -building. He detached him quickly, and led him to the great gates; but -here a difficulty presented itself. The large wooden bar was easily -removed, and the bolts drawn back; but still the gates would not open. -The young gentleman felt them all over in search of another fastening; -but he could find none; and he then turned to a little sort of -guardroom on the right of the entrance, attached to almost all the -large houses of Paris in that day, and transformed, in after and more -peaceable times, into a porter's lodge. All was dark and silent -within, however: the door closed; and no answer was returned when the -young gentleman knocked. He then tried another door, in the middle of -the great façade of the building; but there, also, the door was -locked, and he could make no one hear. His only resource, then, was -the small postern by which he had been admitted; but here also he was -disappointed, and he began to comprehend that he was intentionally -detained. He was naturally the more impatient to escape; and, -abandoning all ceremony, he knocked hard with the hilt of his dagger -on the several doors, trying them in turns. But it was all in vain. -There were things doing which made his importunity of small -consequence.</p> - -<p class="normal">With an angry and impatient heart, and a mind wandering through a -world of conjecture, he at length thrust his dagger back into the -sheath, and stood and listened near the great gates, determined, if he -heard a passing step in the street, to call loudly for assistance. All -was still, however, for ten minutes, and then came suddenly a sound of -loud voices and indistinct cries, as if there was a tumult at some -distance. Jean Charost's heart beat quick, though there seemed no -definite link of connection between his own fate and the sounds he -heard. A minute or two after, however, he was startled by a nearer -noise--a rattling and grating sound--and he had just time to draw his -horse away ere the gates opened of their own accord, and rolled back -without any one appearing to move them. A hoarse and unpleasant laugh, -at the same moment, sounded on Jean Charost's ear, and, looking forth -into the street, he saw two or three dark figures running quickly -forward in one direction.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXIV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">There was in Paris an old irregular street, called the Street -of the -Old Temple, which had been built out toward the Porte Barbette at a -period when the capital of France was much smaller in extent than in -the reign of King Charles the Sixth. No order or regularity had been -preserved, although one side of the street had for some distance been -kept in a direct line by an antique wall, built, it is said, by the -voluntary contributions or personal labors of different members of the -famous Order of the Temple, the brethren of which, though professing -poverty, were often more akin to Dives than to Lazarus. The other side -of the street, however, had been filled up by the houses and gardens -of various individuals, each walking in the light of his own eyes, and -using his discretion as to how far his premises should encroach upon, -how far recede from the highway. Thus, when sun or moon was up, and -shining down the street, a number of picturesque shadows crossed it, -offering a curious pattern of light and shade, varying with every -hour.</p> - -<p class="normal">A strange custom existed in those days, which has only been -perpetuated, that I know of, in some towns of the Tyrol, of affixing -to each house its own particular sign, which served, as numbers do in -the present day, to distinguish it from all others in the same street. -Sometimes these signs or emblems projected in the form of a banner -from the walls of the house, overhanging the street, and showing the -golden cross, or the silver cross, or the red ball, the lion, the -swan, or the hart, to every one who rode along. Sometimes, with better -taste, but perhaps with less convenience to the passenger in search of -a house he did not know, the emblem chosen by the proprietor was built -into the solid masonry, or placed in a little Gothic niche constructed -for the purpose. The latter was generally the case where angel, or -patron saint, prophet, or holy man was the chosen device, and -especially so when any of the persons of the Holy Trinity, for whom -the Parisians seemed to have more love than reverence, gave a name to -the building.</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus, at the corner of the Street of the Old Temple, and another which -led into it, a beautiful and elaborate niche with a baldachin of -fretted stone, and a richly-carved pediment, offered to the eyes of -the passers-by a very-well executed figure of the Virgin, holding in -her arms the infant Savior, and from this image the house on which it -was affixed obtained the name of the <i>Hôtel de Nôtre Dame</i>. -Notwithstanding the sanctity of the emblem, and the beauty of the -building--for it was of the finest style of French architecture, then -in its decay--the house had been very little inhabited for some twenty -or thirty years. It had been found too small and incommodious for -modern taste. Men had built themselves larger dwellings, and, although -this had not been suffered to become actually dilapidated, there were -evident traces of neglect about it--casements broken and distorted, -doors and gates on which unforbidden urchins carved grotesque faces -and letters hardly less fantastical, moldings and cornices time-worn -and moldering, and stones gathering lichen and soot with awful -rapidity.</p> - -<p class="normal">All was darkness along the front of that house. No torches blazed -before it; no window shot forth a ray; and the sinking moon cast a -black shadow across the street, and half way up the wall on the other -side.</p> - -<p class="normal">Nevertheless, in one room of that house there were lamps lighted, and -a blazing fire upon the hearth. Wine, too, was upon the table, rich, -and in abundance; but yet it was hardly tasted; for there were -passions busy in that room, more powerful than wine. It was low in the -ceiling, the walls covered with hangings of leather which had once -been gilt, and painted with various devices but from which all traces -of human handiwork had nearly vanished, leaving nothing but a gloomy, -dark drapery on the wall, which seemed rather to suck in than return -the rays. It was large and well proportioned, however. The great massy -beams which, any one could touch with their hand, were supported by -four stout stone pillars, and the whole light centered in the middle -of the room, leaving a fringe, as it were, of obscurity all round. If -numbers could make any place gay, that room or hall would have been -cheerful enough; for not less than seventeen or eighteen persons were -collected there, and many of them appeared persons of no inferior -degree. Each was more or less armed, and battle-axes, maces, and heavy -swords lay around; but a solemn, gloomy stillness hung upon the whole -party. It was evidently no festal occasion on which they met. The -wine, as I have said, had no charms for them; conversation had as -little.</p> - -<p class="normal">One tall powerful man sat before the chimney with his mailed arms -crossed upon his chest, and his eyes fixed upon the flickering blaze -in the fire-place. Another was seated near the table, drawing, with -the end of a straw, wild, fantastic figures on the board with some -wine which had been spilled. Some dull men at a distance nodded, and -others, with their hands upon their brows, and eyes bent down, -remained in heavy thought.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length one of them spoke, "Tedious work this," he said. "Action -suits me best. I love not to lie like a spider at the bottom of his -web, waiting till the fly buzzes into his nest. Here we have been five -or six long days, and nothing done. I will not wait longer than -to-morrow's sunrise, whatever you may say, Ralph."</p> - -<p class="normal">The other, who was gazing into the fire, turned his head a little, -answering in a gruff tone, "I tell you he is now in Paris. He arrived -this very evening. We shall hear more anon."</p> - -<p class="normal">The conversation ceased; for no one else took it up, and each of the -speakers fell into silence again.</p> - -<p class="normal">Some quarter of an hour passed, and then the one who was at the table -started and seemed to listen.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was certainly a step in the passage without, and the moment -after there was a knock at the door. One of those within advanced, and -inquired who was there.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ich Houde," answered a voice, and immediately the door was unlocked, -and a ponderous bolt withdrawn.</p> - -<p class="normal">All eyes were now turned toward the entrance, with a look which I do -not know how to describe, except by saying it was one of fierce -expectation. At first the obscurity at the further side of the room -prevented those who sat near the light from seeing who it was that -entered; but a broad-chested, powerful man, wrapped in a crimson -mantle, with a very large hood thrown back upon his shoulders, and on -his head a plain brown barret cap with a heron's feather in it, -advanced rapidly toward the table, inquiring, "Where is Actonville?"</p> - -<p class="normal">His face was deadly pale, and even his lips had lost their color; but -there was no emotion to be discovered by the movement of any feature. -All was stern, and resolute, and keen.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here," said the man who had been sitting by the fire, rising as he -spoke.</p> - -<p class="normal">The other advanced close to him, and spoke something in a whisper. -Actonville rejoined in the same low tone; and then the other answered, -louder, "I have provided for all that. Thomas of Courthose will bear -him a message from the king. Be quick; for he will soon be there."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How got you the news, sir?" asked Actonville.</p> - -<p class="normal">"By the fool, to be sure--by the fool!" replied the other. "It is all -certain; though a fool told it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The moon must be up," said Actonville. "Were it not better to do it -as he returns?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He will have many more with him," answered the man who had just -entered; "and the moon is down."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, moon or no moon, many or few," exclaimed the man who had been -sitting at the table, "let us about it at once. Brave men fear no -numbers; and only dogs are scared by the moon." Some more -conversation, brief, sharp, and eager, sometimes in whispers, -sometimes aloud, occupied a space, perhaps, of three minutes, and then -all was the bustle of preparation. Swords, axes, maces were taken up, -and a few inquiries were made and answered.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Are the horses all ready?" asked one.</p> - -<p class="normal">"They only want unhooking," replied another.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The straw is piled up in both the rooms." said a third. "Shall I fire -it now?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no! Are you mad?" replied Actonville "Not till it is done."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then I'll put the lantern ready," replied the other.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where will you be, sir?" asked Actonville.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Close at hand," replied the man in the crimson mantle. "But we lose -time. Go out quietly, one by one, and leave the door open. Put out the -lights, William of Courthose. I have a lantern here, under my cloak."</p> - -<p class="normal">The lights were immediately extinguished, and, by the flickering of -the fire, eighteen shadowy forms were seen to pass out of the room -like ghosts. Through the long passage from the back to the front of -the house, they went as silently as their arms would permit, and then -gliding down the irregular side of the road, one by one, they -disappeared from their rank to lay in wait in what the prophet calls -"the thievish corners of the streets."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man who had last joined them remained alone, standing before the -fire. His arms were crossed upon his chest; a lantern which he had -carried stood on the ground by his side; and his eyes were fixed upon -a log from which a small thin flame, yellow at the base, and blue at -the top, rose up, wavering fitfully. He watched it for some five or -six minutes. Suddenly it leaped up and vanished.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha!" said that dark, stern man, and turned him to the door. Ere he -reached it, there was a loud outcry from without--a cry of pain and -strife. He paused and trembled. What was in his bosom then? God only -knows. Man never knew.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The gates of the Hôtel Barbette--formerly the Hôtel -Montaigne--opened -instantly to the Duke of Orleans, and he was kept but a moment in the -great hall ere the queen gave an order for his admission, although -still suffering from illness. He found the beautiful but vindictive -Isabella in bed; but that formed no objection in those days to the -reception of visitors by a lady of even queenly rank; and, after -having embraced his fair sister-in-law, he sat down by her bedside, -and the room was soon cleared of the attendants.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have received my note, Louis?" she said, laying her hand tenderly -upon his; for there is every reason to believe that the Duke of -Orleans was the only one toward whom she ever entertained any sincere -affection.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I did, sweet Isabella," answered the duke; "and I came at once to see -what was your will."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How many men brought you with you?" asked the queen. "I hope there is -no fool-hardiness, Orleans?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, in Paris I have plenty," replied the duke; "hard upon five -hundred. The rest I left with Valentine at Beauté, for she is going to -Château Thierry to gather all her children together. But if you mean -how many I have brought hither to-night, good faith! Isabella, not -many--two men on horseback, and half a dozen on foot."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Imprudent man!" exclaimed the queen. "Do you not know that Burgundy -is here?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh yes," answered the Duke of Orleans. "He supped with me this night, -quite in a tranquil way."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Be not deceived--be not deceived, Louis of Orleans," answered the -queen. "Who can feign friendship and mean enmity so well as John of -Burgundy? And I tell you that, to my certain knowledge, he is -caballing against you even now. Your life is never safe when you are -near him unless you be surrounded by your men-at-arms."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, we do not play an equal game," replied the duke; "for his -life is as safe with me as with his dearest friend."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did he know that you were coming hither?" asked the queen, with an -anxious look.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Assuredly," replied the duke; but then he added, with a gay laugh, -"He suspected, I fancy, from his questions, that I was going elsewhere -first, though I told him I was not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where--where?" demanded the queen.</p> - -<p class="normal">"To Madame De Giac's," replied the Duke of Orleans, with a look of -arch meaning.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The serpent!" muttered Isabella. "And you have not been?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Assuredly not," replied her brother-in-law. "Then he knows you have -come here," said Isabella, thoughtfully; "and the way back will be -dangerous. You shall not go, Orleans, till you have sent for a better -escort."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, kind sister, if it will give you ease, it shall be done," -replied the duke. "I will tell one of my men to bring me a party of -horse from the hotel."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let it be large enough," said the queen, emphatically.</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke smiled, and left the room in search of his attendants; but -neither of his two squires could be found. Heaven knows where they -were, or what they were doing; but the queen had a court of very -pretty ladies at the Hôtel Barbette, who were not scrupulous of -granting their conversation to gay young gentlemen. A young German -page, fair-haired and gentle, lolled languidly on a settle in the -great hall, but he knew little of Paris, and the Duke of Orleans sent -for one of his footmen, and ordered him to take one of the squires' -horses, return to the Hôtel d'Orleans, and bring up twenty lances with -in an hour. He then went back to the chamber of the queen, and sat -conversing with her for about ten minutes, when they were interrupted' -by the entrance of one of her ladies, who brought intelligence that a -messenger from the Hôtel St Pol had arrived, demanding instant -audience of the duke.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who is he?" asked Isabella, gazing at the lady, her suspicions -evidently all awake. "How did they know at the Hôtel St. Pol that his -highness was here?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is Thomas of Courthose, your majesty," replied the lady; "and he -says he has been at the Hôtel d'Orleans, whence he was sent hither."</p> - -<p class="normal">"By your good leave, then, fair sister, we will admit him," said the -duke; and in a minute or two after Thomas of Courthose, one of the -immediate attendants of the king, was ushered into the room. He was -not a man of pleasing aspect: black-haired, down-looked, and with the -eyes so close together as to give almost the appearance of a squint; -but both the duke and the queen knew him well, and suspicion was -lulled to sleep.</p> - -<p class="normal">Approaching the Duke of Orleans, with a lowly reverence, first to the -queen and then to him, the man said, "I have been commanded by his -royal majesty to inform your highness that he wishes to see you -instantly, on business which touches nearly both you and himself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will obey at once," replied the duke. "Tell my people, as you pass, -to get ready. I will be in the court in five minutes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, Orleans, stay!" cried the queen, as the man quitted the room. -"You had better wait for your escort, dear brother."</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke only laughed at her fears, however, representing that his -duty to the king called for his immediate obedience, and adding, "I -shall go safer by that road than any other. They know that I came -hither late, and will conclude that I shall return by the same way. If -Burgundy intends to play me any scurvy trick--arrest, imprison, or -otherwise maltreat me--he will post his horsemen in that direction, -and by going round I shall avoid them. Nay, nay, Isabella, example of -disobedience to my king shall never be set by Louis of Orleans."</p> - -<p class="normal">The queen saw him depart with a sigh, but the duke descended to the -court without fear, and spoke gayly to his attendants, whom he found -assembled.</p> - -<p class="normal">"We do not know what to do, sir," said one of the squires, stepping -forward. "Leonard has taken away one of the horses, and now there is -but one beast to two squires."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let his master mount him, and the other jump up behind," said the -duke, laughing. "Did you never see two men upon one horse?"</p> - -<p class="normal">In the mean while his own mule was brought forward, and, setting his -foot in the stirrup, the duke seated himself somewhat slowly. Then, -looking up to the sky, he said, "The moon is down, and it has become -marvelous dark. If you have torches, light them."</p> - -<p class="normal">About two minutes were spent in lighting the torches, and then the -gates of the Hôtel Barbette were thrown open. The two squires on one -horse went first, and the duke on his mule came after, the German page -following close, with his hand resting on the embossed crupper, while -two men, with torches lighted, walked on either side. The porter at -the gates looked after them for a moment as they took their way down -the Street of the Old Temple, and then drew to the heavy leaves, and -barred the gates for the night.</p> - -<p class="normal">All was still and silent in the street, and the little procession -walked on at a slow pace for some two hundred yards. The torch-light -then seemed to flash upon some object suddenly, which the horse -bearing the two squires had not before seen, for the beast started, -plunged, and then dashed violently forward down the street, nearly -throwing the hindmost horseman to the ground. The duke spurred forward -his mule somewhat sharply, but he had not gone a dozen yards when an -armed man darted out from behind the dark angle of the neighboring -house. Another rushed out almost at the same moment from one of the -deep, arched gateways of the time, and a number more were seen -hurrying up, with the torch-light flashing upon cuirasses, -battle-axes, and maces. Two of the light-bearers cast down their -torches and fled; a third was knocked down by the rush of men coming -up; and at the same moment a strong, armed hand was laid upon the Duke -of Orleans's rein.</p> - -<p class="normal">The dauntless prince spurred on his mule against the man who held it, -without attempting to turn its head; and it would seem that he still -doubted that he was the real object of attack, for while the assassin -shouted loudly, "Kill him--kill him!" he raised his voice loud above -the rest, exclaiming, "How now; I am the Duke of Orleans!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"'Tis him we want," cried a deep voice close by; and as the duke put -his hand to the hilt of his sword, a tremendous blow of an ax fell -upon his wrist, cutting through muscle, and sinew, and bone. The next -instant he was struck heavily on the head with a mace, and hurled -backward from the saddle. But even then there was one found faithful. -The young German boy who followed cast himself instantly upon the body -of his lord, to shield him from the blows that were falling thick upon -him. But it was all in vain. The battle-ax and the mace terminated the -poor lad's existence in a moment; his body was dragged from that of -the prostrate prince; and a blow with a spiked iron club dashed to -pieces the skull of the gay and gallant Louis of Orleans.</p> - -<p class="normal">Shouts and cries of various kinds had mingled with the fray, but after -that last blow fell there came a sudden silence. Three of the torches -were extinguished; the bearers were fled. One faint light only -flickered on the ground, throwing a red and fitful glare upon the -bloody bodies of the dead, and the grim, fierce countenances of the -murderers.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the midst of that silence, a man in a crimson mantle and hood came -quickly forward, bearing a lantern in his hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">The assassins showed no apprehension of his presence, and holding the -light to the face of the dead man, he gazed on him for an instant with -a stern, hard, unchanged expression, and then said, "It is he!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Perhaps some convulsive movement crossed the features from which real -life had already passed away, for that stern, gloomy man snatched a -mace from the hand of one standing near, and struck another heavy blow -upon the head of the corpse, saying, "Out with the last spark!"</p> - -<p class="normal">There were some eight or ten persons immediately round the spot where -the prince had fallen; but others were scattered at a little distance -up and down the street. Suddenly a voice cried, "Hark!" and the sound -of a horse's feet was heard trotting quick.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Away!" cried the man in the red mantle. "Fire the house, and -disperse. You know your roads. Away!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Then came a distant cry, as if from the gates of the queen's palace, -of "Help! help! Murder! murder!" but, the next moment, it was almost -drowned in a shout of "Fire! fire!" Dark volumes of smoke began to -issue from the windows of the Hôtel Nôtre Dame, and flashes of flame -broke forth upon the street, while a torrent of sparks rushed upward -into the air. All around the scene of the murder became enveloped in -vapor and obscurity, with the red light tinging the thick, heavy -wreaths of smoke, and serving just to show figures come and go, still -increasing in number, and gathering round the fatal spot in a small, -agitated crowd. But the actors in the tragedy had disappeared. Now -here, now there, one or another might have been seen crossing the -bloody-looking haze of the air, and making for some of the various -streets that led away from the place of the slaughter, till at length -all were gone, and nothing but horrified spectators of their bloody -handiwork remained.</p> - -<p class="normal">Few, if any, remained to look at the burning house, and none attempted -to extinguish the flames; for the cry had already gone abroad that the -Duke of Orleans was murdered, and the multitude hurried forward to the -place where he lay. Those who did stop for an instant before the Hôtel -Nôtre Dame, remarked a quantity of lighted straw borne out from the -doors and windows by the rush of the fire, and some of them heard the -quick sound of hoofs at a little distance, as if a small party of -horse had galloped away from the back of the building.</p> - -<p class="normal">Few thought it needful, however, to inquire for or pursue the -murderers. A sort of stupor seemed to have seized all but one of those -who arrived the first. He was a poor mechanic; and, seeing an armed -man, with a mace in his hand, glide across the street, he followed him -with a quick step, traced him through several streets, paused in fear -when the other paused, turned when he turned, and dogged him till he -entered the gates of the Hôtel d'Artois, the residence of the Duke of -Burgundy.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the mean while, the body of the unhappy prince, and that of the -poor page who had sacrificed his life for him, were carried into a -church hard by. The news spread like lightning through the whole town; -neighbor told it to neighbor; many were roused from their sleep to -hear the tidings, and agitation and tumult spread through Paris. Every -sort of vague alarm, every sort of wild rumor was received and -encouraged.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Queen Isabella of Bavaria, horrified and apprehensive, caused -herself to be placed in a litter, and carried to the Hôtel St. Pol. A -number of loyal noblemen, believing the king's own life in danger, -armed themselves and their followers, and turned the court of the -palace into a fortress. But the followers of the deceased duke -remained for some hours almost stupefied with terror, and only -recovered themselves to give way to rage and indignation, which -produced many a disastrous consequence in after days. In the mean -time, the church of the White Friars was not deserted. The brethren -themselves gathered around the dead bodies, and, with tapers lighted, -and the solemn organ playing, chanted all night the services of the -dead. High nobles and princes, too, flocked into the church with heavy -hearts and agitated minds. The Duke of Bourbon and the venerable Duke -of Berri were the first. Then came the King of Navarre, then the Duke -of Burgundy, and then the King of Sicily, who had arrived in Paris -only on the preceding morning.</p> - -<p class="normal">All were profuse of lamentations, and of execrations against the -murderers; but none more so than the Duke of Burgundy, who declared -that "never, in the city of Paris, had been perpetrated so horrible -and sad a murder."<a name="div4Ref_02" href="#div4_02"><sup>[2]</sup></a> He -could even weep, too; but while the words -were on his lips, and the tears were in his eyes, some one pulled him -by the cloak, and turning round his head, he saw one of his most -familiar servants. Nothing was said; but there was a look in the man's -eyes which demanded attention, and, after a moment or two, the duke -retired with him into the chapel of St. William.</p> - -<p class="normal">"They have taken one of those suspected of conniving at the murder," -whispered the man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Which? Who--who is he?" asked the duke, eagerly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No one your highness knows," replied the man, gazing in the duke's -face, though the chapel was very dark. "He is a young gentleman, said -to be the duke's secretary, Monsieur Charost de Brecy."</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke stamped with his foot upon the ground, saying, with an oath, -"That may ruin all. See that he be freed as soon as possible, before -he is examined."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It can not be done, I fear," rejoined the man, in the same low tone. -"He is in the hands of William de Tignonville, the <i>prévôt</i>. But can -not the murder be cast on him, sir? They say he and the duke were -heard disputing loud this night; and that, on the way to the Hôtel -Barbette, he suddenly turned and rode away from his royal master."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Folly and nonsense!" said the duke, impatiently; and then he fell -into a fit of thought, adding, in a musing tone, "This must be -provided for. But not so--not so. Well, we will see. Leave him where -he is. He must be taught silence, if he would have safety."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXVI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">We must now once more follow the course of Jean Charost. It -has been -said that when the gates of the house of Madame De Giac (by a -contrivance very common at that time in Paris for saving the trouble -of the porter and the time of the visitor, but with which he was -unacquainted) rolled back on their hinges, without the visible -intervention of any human being, he saw several persons running up the -street in the direction which he himself intended to take. Man has -usually a propensity to hurry in the same course as others, and, -springing on his horse's back, Jean Charost spurred on somewhat more -quickly than he might have done had he seen no one running. As he -advanced, he saw, in the direction of the Porte Barbette, a lurid -glare beginning to rise above the houses, and glimmering upon large -rolling volumes of heavy smoke The next instant, loud voices, -shouting, reached his ear; but with the cries of fire he fancied there -were mingled cries of murder. On up the street he dashed, and soon -found himself at the corner of the Street of the Old Temple; but he -could make nothing of the scene before his eyes. The house in front -was on fire in various places, and would evidently soon be totally -destroyed; but though there were a number of people in the street, -running hither and thither in wild disorder, few stopped before the -burning building even for a single moment, and most hurried past at -once to a spot somewhat further down the street.</p> - -<p class="normal">All who had collected as yet were on foot though he could see a horse -further up toward the city gate; but while he was looking round him -with some wonder, and hesitating whether he should first go on to -inquire what was the matter where the principal crowd was collected, -or ride at once to the Hôtel Barbette, a man in the royal liveries, -with a halbert in his hand, crossed and looked hard at him. Suddenly -another came running up the street, completely armed except the head, -which was bare. The man with the halbert instantly stopped the other, -apparently asking some question, and Jean Charost saw the armed man -point toward him, exclaiming, "He must be one of them--he must be one -of them." The next moment they both seized his bridle together; but -they did not both retain their hold very long; for while he of the -halbert demanded his name and business there, threatening to knock his -brains out if he did not answer instantly, the armed man slipped by on -the other side of the horse, turned round the corner of the street, -and was lost to sight.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost's name and business were soon explained; but still the -man kept hold of his bridle. Two or three persons gathered round; and -all apparently conceded that a great feat had been accomplished in -making a prisoner, although there was no suspicious circumstance about -him, except his being mounted on horseback, when all the rest were on -foot. They continued to discuss what was to be done with him, till a -large body of people came rushing down from the Hôtel Barbette, among -whom the young secretary recognized one of the squires and two of the -lackeys of the Duke of Orleans. To them Jean Charost instantly called, -saying, "There is something amiss here. Pray explain to these men who -I am; for they are stopping me without cause, and I can not proceed to -join his highness."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why did you leave him so suddenly an hour ago?" cried the young -squire, in a sharp tone. "You came with us from the Hôtel d'Orleans, -and disappeared on the way. You had better keep him, my friends, till -this bloody deed is inquired into."</p> - -<p class="normal">Then turning to Jean Charost again, he added, "Do you not know that -the duke has been foully murdered?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The intelligence fell upon the young man's ear like thunder. He sat -motionless and speechless on his horse, while the party from the Hôtel -Barbette passed on; and he only woke from the state of stupefaction -into which he was cast, to find his horse being led by two or three -persons through the dark and narrow streets of Paris, whither he knew -not. His first distinct thoughts, however, were of the duke rather -than himself, and he inquired eagerly of his captors where and how the -horrible deed had been perpetrated.</p> - -<p class="normal">They were wise people, and exceedingly sapient in their own conceit, -however. The queen's servant laughed with a sneer, saying, "No, no. We -won't tell you any thing to prepare you for your examination before -the <i>prévôt</i>. He will ask you questions, and then you answer him, -otherwise he will find means to make you. We are not here to reply to -your interrogatories."</p> - -<p class="normal">The sapient functionary listened to no remonstrances, and finding his -efforts vain, Jean Charost rode on in silence, sometimes tempted, -indeed, to draw his sword, which had not yet been taken from him, and -run the man with the halbert through the body; but he resisted the -temptation.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, emerging from a narrow street, they came into a little -square, on the opposite side of which rose a tall and gloomy building, -without any windows apparent on the outside, except in the upper -stories of two large towers, flanking a low dark archway. All was -still and silent in the square; no light shone from the windows of -that gloomy building; but straight toward the great gate they went, -and one of the men rang a bell which hung against the tower. A loud, -ferocious barking of dogs was immediately heard; but in an instant the -gates were opened by a broad-shouldered, bow-legged man, who looked -gloomily at the visitors, but said nothing; and the horse of Jean -Charost was led in, while the porter drove back four savage dogs -(which would fain have sprang at the prisoner); and instantly closed -the gates. The archway in which the party now stood extended some -thirty feet through the heavy walls, and at the other end appeared a -second gate, exactly like the first; but the porter made no movement -to open it, nor asked any questions, but suffered the queen's servant -to go forward and ring another bell. That gate was opened, but not so -speedily as the other, and a man holding a lantern appeared behind, -with another personage at his side, dressed in a striped habit of -various colors, which made Jean Charost almost believe that they had a -buffoon even there. From the first words of the queen's servant, -however, he learned that this was the jailer, and his face itself, -hard, stern, and bitter, was almost an announcement of his office.</p> - -<p class="normal">Nevertheless, he made some difficulty at first in regard to receiving -a prisoner from hands unauthorized; but at length he consented to -detain the young secretary till he could be interrogated by the -<i>prévôt</i>. The captors then retired, and the jailers made their captive -dismount and enter a small room near, where sat a man in black, -writing. His name, his station, his occupation was immediately taken -down, and then one of those harpies called the <i>valets de geôle</i>; was -called, who instantly commenced emptying his pockets of all they -contained, took from him his sword, dagger, and belt, and even laid -hands upon a small jeweled <i>fermail</i>, or clasp; upon his hood. The -young man offered no resistance, of course; but when he found himself -stripped of money, and every thing valuable, he was surprised to hear -a demand made upon him for ten livres.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is a most extraordinary charge," he said, looking in the face of -the jailer, who stood by, though it was the valet who made the demand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why so, boy?" asked the man, gruffly. "It is the jailage due. You -said your name was Jean Charost, Baron De Brecy. A baron pays the same -as a count or a countess."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But how can I pay any thing, when you have taken every thing from -me?" asked the young secretary.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, you are mistaken," said the jailer, with a rude laugh. "I see you -are a young bird. All that has been taken from you, except the fees of -the jail, will be restored when you go out, if you ever do. But you -must consent with your own tongue to my taking the money for my due, -otherwise we shall put you to sleep in the ditch, where you pay half -fees, and I take them without asking."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Take it, take it," said Jean Charost, with a feeling of horror and -dismay that made him feel faint and sick. "Treat me as well as you -can, and take all that is your right. If more be needed, you can have -it."</p> - -<p class="normal">The jailer nodded his head to the valet, who grinned at the prisoner, -saying, "We will treat you very well, depend upon it. You shall have a -clean cell, with a bed four feet wide, and only two other gentlemen in -it, both of them of good birth, though one is in for killing a young -market-woman. He will have his head off in three days, and then you -will have only one companion."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Can not I be alone?" asked Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The law is, three prisoners to one bed," replied the valet of the -jail, "and we can't change the custom--unless you choose to pay"--he -added--"four deniers a night for a single bed, and two for the place -on which it stands."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Willingly, willingly," cried the young man, who now saw that money -would do much in a jail, as well as elsewhere. "Can I have a cell to -myself?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"To be sure. There is plenty of room," replied the jailer. "If you -choose to pay the dues for two other barons, you can have the space -they would occupy."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost consented to every thing that was demanded; the fees were -taken by the jailer; the rest of the money found upon him was -registered by the man in black, who seemed a mere automaton; and then -he was led away by the valet of the jail to a small room not very far -distant. On the way, and for a minute or two after his arrival in the -cell, the valet continued to give him rapid but clear information -concerning the habits and rules of the place. He found that, if he -attempted to escape, the law would hold him guilty of whatever crime -he was charged with; that he could neither have writing materials, nor -communicate with any friend without an application to one of the -judges at the Châtelet; that all the law allowed a prisoner was bread -and water, and, in the end, that every thing could be procured by -money--except liberty.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost hesitated not then to demand all he required, and the -valet, on returning to the jailer, after having thrice-locked and -thrice-bolted the door, informed his master that the young prisoner -was a "good orange," which probably meant that he was easily sucked.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXVII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Do you recollect visiting the booth of a cutler? In that very -booth, -the day after the arrest of Jean Charost, might be seen the -intelligent countenance of the deformed boy, Petit Jean, peering over -the large board on which the wares were exposed, and saluting the -passers-by with an arch smile, to which was generally added an -invitation to buy some of the articles of his father's manufacture. -The race <i>gamin</i>; is of very ancient date in the city of Paris, where -witty and mischievous imps are found to have existed in great -abundance as far as recorded history can carry us. It must be owned, -too, that a touch of the <i>gamin</i>; was to be found in poor Petit Jean, -although his corporeal infirmities prevented him from displaying his -genius in many of the active quips and cranks in which other boys of -his own age indulged. On the present occasion, when he was eager to -sell the goods committed to his charge, he refrained, as far as -possible, from any of his sharp jests, so long as there was any chance -of gaining the good-will of a passing customer, and the <i>gamin</i>; spirit -fumed off in a metaphor: but a surly reply, or cold inattention, -generally drew from him some tingling jest, which might have procured -him a drubbing had not his infirmities proved a safeguard.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What do you lack, Messire Behue?" he cried, as a good fat currier -rolled past the booth. "Sure, with such custom as you have, your -knives must be all worn out. Here, buy one of these. They are so -sharp, it would save you a crown a day in time, and your customers -would not have to wait like a crowd at a morality."</p> - -<p class="normal">The good-natured currier paused, and bargained for a knife, for -flattery will sometimes soften even well-tanned hides; and Petit -Jean, contented with his success, assailed a thin, pale, -sanctimonious-looking man who came after, in much the same manner.</p> - -<p class="normal">But this personage scowled at him, saying, "No, no, boy. No more -knives from your stall. The last I bought bent double before two days -were over."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That's the fault of your cheese, Peter Guimp," answered the boy, -sharply. "It served Don Joachim, the canon of St. Laurent, worse than -it served our knife, for it broke all the teeth out of his head. Ask -him if it didn't."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You lie, you little monster!" said the cheesemonger, irritably. "It -was as bad iron as ever was sharpened."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not so hard as your heart, perhaps," answered Petit Jean; "but it was -a great deal sharper than your wit; and if your cheese had not been -like a millstone, it would have gone through it."</p> - -<p class="normal">The monger of cheeses walked on all the faster for two or three women -having come up, all of whom but one, an especial friend of his own, -were laughing at the saucy boy's repartee.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, dear Dame Mathurine," cried Petit Jean, addressing the grave -lady, "buy a new bodkin for your cloak. It wants one sadly, just to -pin it up with a jaunty air."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Don't Mathurine me, monkey," cried the old woman, walking on after -the cheesemonger; and the boy, winking his eye to the other women, -exclaimed aloud, "Well, you are wise. A new bodkin would only tear a -hole in the old rag. She wore that cloak at her great-grandmother's -funeral when she was ten years old, and that is sixty years ago; so it -may well fear the touch of younger metal."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, you rogue, what have you to say to me?" said a young and pretty -woman, who had listened, much amused.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Only that I have nothing good enough for your beautiful eyes," -answered the boy, promptly; "though you have but to look at the -things, to make them shine as if the sun was beaming on them."</p> - -<p class="normal">This hit told well, and the pretty <i>bourgeoise</i>; very speedily -purchased two or three articles from the stall. She had just paid her -money, when Martin Grille, with a scared and haggard air, entered the -booth, and asked the boy where his father was, without any previous -salutation.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, what is the matter with you, Martin?" asked Petit Jean, -affectionately. "You come in like a stranger, and don't say a word to -me about myself or yourself, and look as wild as the devil in a -mystery. What is it you want with my father in such a hurry?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am vexed and frightened, Petit Jean," replied poor Martin, with a -sigh. "I am quite at my wit's end, who never was at my wit's end -before. Your father may help me; but you can't help at all, my boy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, you don't know that," answered the other. "I can help more than -people know. Why, I have sold more things for my father in three -hours, since he went up to the Celestins to see the body of the Duke -of Orleans, than he ever sold in three days before."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, the poor duke! the poor duke!" cried Martin, with a deep sigh.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well, come sit down," said Petit Jean. "My father will be in -presently, and in the mean while, I'll play you a tune on my new -violin, and you will see how I can play now."</p> - -<p class="normal">Martin Grille seated himself with an absent look, leaned his forehead -upon his hands, and seemed totally to forget every thing around him in -the unwonted intensity of his own thoughts. But the boy, creeping -under the board on which the wares were displayed, brought forth an -instrument of no very prepossessing appearance, tried its tune with -his thumb, as if playing on a guitar, and then seating himself at -Martin Grille's knee, put the instrument to his deformed shoulder.</p> - -<p class="normal">There be some to whom music comes as by inspiration. All other arts -are more or less acquired. But those in whom a fine sensibility to -harmony is implanted by Nature, not unfrequently leap over even -mechanical difficulties, and achieve at once, because they have -conceived already. Music must have started from the heart of Apollo, -as wisdom from the head of Jove, without a childhood. Little had been -the instruction, few, scanty, and from an incompetent teacher, the -lessons which that poor deformed boy had received. But now, when the -bow in his hand touched the strings, it drew from them sounds such as -a De Beriot or a Rhode might have envied him the power of educing; -and, fixing his large, lustrous eyes upon his cousin's face, he seemed -to speak in music from his own spirit to the spirit of his hearer. -Whether he had any design, and, if so, what that design was, I can not -tell; perhaps he did not know himself; but certain it is, that the -wandering, wavering composition that he framed on the moment seemed to -bear a strange reference to Martin's feelings. First came a harsh -crash of the bow across all the strings--a broad, bold discord; then a -deep and gloomy phrase, entirely among the lower notes of the -instrument, simple and melodious, but without any attempt at harmony; -then, enriching itself as it went on, the air deviated into the minor, -with sounds exquisitely plaintive, till Martin Grille almost fancied -he could hear the voices of mourners, and exclaimed, "Don't Jean! -don't! I can not bear it!"</p> - -<p class="normal">But still the boy went on, as if triumphing in the mastery of music -over the mind, and gradually his instrument gave forth more cheerful -sounds; not light, not exactly gay, for every now and then a flattened -third brought back a touch of melancholy to the air, but still one -could have fancied the ear caught the distant notes of angels singing -hope and peace to man.</p> - -<p class="normal">The effect on Martin Grille was strange. It cheered him, but he wept; -and the boy, looking earnestly in his face, said, with a strange -confidence, "Do not tell me I have no power, Martin. Mean, deformed, -and miserable as I am, I have found out that I can rule spirits better -than kings, and have a happiness within me over which they have no -sway. You are not the first I have made weep. So now tell me what it -is you want with my father. Perhaps I may help you better than he -can."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was not you made me weep, you foolish boy," said Martin Grille; -"but it was the thought of the bloody death of the poor Duke of -Orleans, so good a master, and so kind a man; and then I began to -think how his terrible fate might have expiated, through the goodness -of the blessed Virgin, all his little sins, and how the saints and the -angels would welcome him. I almost thought I could hear them singing, -and it was that made me cry. But as to what I want with your father, -it was in regard to my poor master, Monsieur De Brecy, a kind, good -young man, and a gallant one, too. They have arrested him, and thrown -him into prison--a set of fools!--accusing him of having compassed the -prince's death, when he would have laid down his life for him at any -time. But all the people at the hotel are against him, for he is too -good for them, a great deal; and I want somebody powerful to speak in -his behalf, otherwise they may put him to the torture, and cripple him -for life, just to make him confess a lie, as they did with Paul -Laroche, who never could walk without two sticks after. Now I know, -your father is one of the Duke of Burgundy's men, and that duke will -rule the roast now, I suppose."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Strong spirits seek strong spirits," said the boy, thoughtfully; "and -perhaps my father might do something with the duke. But Martin," he -continued, after a short and silent pause, "do not you have any thing -to do with the Duke of Burgundy! He will not help you. I do not know -what it is puts such thoughts in my head. But the king's brother had -an enemy; the king's brother is basely murdered; his enemy still lives -heartily; and it is not him I would ask to help a man falsely accused. -Stay a little. They took me, three days ago, to play before the King -of Navarre, and I am to go to-day, with my instrument, to play before -the Queen of Sicily. I think I can help you, Martin, if she will but -hear me. This murder, perhaps, may put it all out, for she was fond of -the duke, they tell me; but I will send her word, through some of her -people, when I go, that I have got a dirge to play for his highness -that is dead. She will hear that, perhaps. Only tell me all about it."</p> - -<p class="normal">Martin Grille's story was somewhat long; but as the reader already -knows much that he told in a desultory sort of way to his young -cousin, and the rest is not of much importance to this tale, we will -pass over his account, which lasted some twenty minutes, and had not -been finished five when Caboche himself entered the booth in holiday -attire. His first words showed Martin Grille the good sense of Petit -Jean's advice, not to speak to his father in favor of Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh ho! Martin," cried Caboche, in a gruff and almost savage tone, "so -your gay duke has got his brains knocked out at last for his fine -doings."</p> - -<p class="normal">"For which of his doings has he been so shamefully murdered?" asked -Martin Grille, with as much anger in his tone as he dared to evince.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What, don't you know?" exclaimed Caboche. "Why, it is in every body's -mouth that he has been killed by Albert de Chauny, whose wife he -carried off and made a harlot of. I say, well done, Albert de Chauny; -and I would have done the same if I had been in his place."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then Monsieur De Brecy is proved innocent," said Martin Grille, -eagerly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know nothing about that," answered Caboche. "He may have been an -accomplice, you know; but that's no business of mine. I went up to see -the duke lie at the Celestins. There was a mighty crowd there of men -and women; but they all made way for Caboche. He makes a handsome -corpse, though his head is so knocked about; but he'll not take any -more men's wives away, and now we shall have quiet days, I suppose, -though I don't see what good quiet does: for whether the town is -peaceful or not, men don't buy or sell nowadays half as much as they -used to do."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a certain degree of vanity in his tone as he uttered the -words, "All made way for Caboche," which was very significant; and his -description of the appearance of the Duke of Orleans made Martin -Grille shudder. He remained not long with his rough uncle, however; -but, after having asked and answered some questions, he took advantage -of a moment when Caboche himself was busy in rearranging his cutlery -and counting his money, to whisper a few words to Petit Jean regarding -a meeting in the evening, and then parted from him, saying simply, -"Remember!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">There was a great crowd in the court of the Hôtel -d'Anjou--lackeys, -and pages, and men-at-arms; but the court was a very large one, with -covered galleries on either hand, and the number of retainers present -was hardly seen. From time to time some great lord of the court -arrived, and proceeded at once into the palace, leaving his followers -to swell some of the little groups into which the whole body of the -people assembled had arranged themselves. To one particular point the -eyes of all present were most frequently directed, and it was only -when one of the princes of the blood royal, the Dukes of Berri or -Bourbon, or the King of Navarre arrived, that the mere spectators of -the scene could divert their eyes from a spot where a young and -handsome lad, who had not yet seen twenty years, stood in the midst of -a group of the <i>prévôt's</i>; guard with fetters on his limbs.</p> - -<p class="normal">By half past three o'clock, several of the princes and the Royal -Council had entered the building, and were conducted at once to a -large hall on the ground floor, where every thing was dark and sombre -as the occasion of the meeting. The ceiling was much lower than might -have been expected in a chamber of such great size; but the -decorations which it displayed were rich and costly, showing the rose, -an ancient emblem of the house of Anjou, in red, and green, and gold, -at the corner of every panel; for the ceiling, like the rest of the -room, was covered with dark oak. The walls were richly embellished; -but the want of light hid the greater part of the delicate carving, -and scarcely allowed a secretary, seated at the table, to see the -letters on the paper on which he was writing.</p> - -<p class="normal">Most of the members of the council had arrived; the Duke of Berri -himself was present; but two very important personages had not yet -appeared, namely, the Duke of Anjou (titular king of Sicily), and the -Duke of Burgundy. The Duke of Berri, nevertheless, gave orders that -the business of the day should proceed, while he sent a lackey to -summon the Duke of Anjou; and very shortly after, that prince entered -the room, inquiring, as he advanced to the table, if the <i>prévôt</i>; had -yet arrived.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, fair cousin," replied the Duke of Berri; "but we may as well get -over the preliminaries. The facts attending the finding of the body -must be read, in the first place."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have read the whole of the <i>procès verbal</i>," replied the King of -Sicily. "Go on--go on, I will be back immediately."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Duke of Berri seemed somewhat displeased to see his cousin quit -the hall again; but the investigation proceeded. All the facts -regarding the assassination of the Duke of Orleans which had been -collected were read by the secretary from the papers before him; and -when he had done, he added, "I find, my lords, that a young gentleman, -the secretary of the late duke, who was not with him at the Hôtel -Barbette, was arrested by one of her majesty's servants at the scene -of the murder, in very suspicious circumstances, shortly after the -crime was perpetrated. Is it your pleasure that he be brought before -you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Assuredly," replied the Duke of Berri. "I have seen the young -gentleman, and judged well of him. I can not think he had any share in -this foul deed. Are there any of my poor nephew's household here who -can testify concerning him?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Several, your highness," answered the secretary. "They are in the -ante-room."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let them also be called in," said the Duke of Berri; and in a minute -or two, Jean Charost, heavily ironed, was brought to the end of the -table, and a number of the Duke of Orleans's officers, the jester, and -the chaplain appeared behind them.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Duke of Berri gazed at the young man sternly; but with Jean -Charost, the first feelings of grief, horror, and alarm had now given -way to a sense of indignation at the suspicions entertained against -him, and he returned the duke's glance firmly and unshrinkingly, with -a look of manly confidence which sat well even upon his youthful -features.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, young gentleman," said the Duke of Berri, at length, "what have -you to say for yourself?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"In what respect, my lord?" asked Jean Charost, still keeping his eyes -upon the duke; for the stare of all around was painful to him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"In answer to the charge brought against you," answered the Duke of -Berri.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know of no charge, your highness," answered Jean Charost. "I only -know that while proceeding, according to the orders of my late beloved -lord, to rejoin him at the Hôtel Barbette. I was seized by some men at -one corner of the Rue Barbette, just as I was pausing to look at a -house in flames, and at a crowd which I saw further down the street; -that then, without almost any explanation, I was hurried to prison, -and that this morning I have been brought hither, with these fetters -on my limbs, which do not become an innocent French gentleman."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is right you should near the charge," answered the duke. "Is the -man who first apprehended him here present?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The tall, stout lackey of the queen, who had been the first to seize -the young secretary's bridle, now bustled forward, full of his own -importance, and related, not altogether without embellishment, his -doings of the preceding night. He told how, on hearing from the flying -servants of the Duke of Orleans that their lord had been attacked by -armed men in the street, he had snatched up a halbert and run to his -assistance; how he arrived too late, and then addressed himself to -apprehend the murderers. He said that Jean Charost was not riding in -any direction, but sitting on his horse quite still, as if he had been -watching from a distance the deed just done; and that a gentleman of -good repute, who had hastened, like himself, to give assistance, had -pointed out the young secretary as one of the band of assassins, and -even aided to apprehend him. He added various particulars of no great -importance in regard to Jean Charost's manner and words, with the view -of making out a case of strong suspicion against him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You hear the charge," said the Duke of Berri, when the man had ended; -"what have you to say?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I might well answer nothing, your highness," replied Jean Charost; -"for, so far as I can see, there is no charge against me, except that -I checked my horse for an instant to look at a crowd and a house in -flames. Nevertheless, if you will permit me, I will ask this man a -question or two, as it may tend to bring some parts of this dark -affair to light."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ask what you please," answered the duke; and Jean Charost turned to -the servant, and demanded, it must be confessed, in a sharp tone, "Was -the man who pointed me out to you armed or unarmed?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Completely armed, except the head," replied the lackey, looking a -little confused.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What had he in his hand?" demanded Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A mace, I think," answered the man; "an iron mace."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did he tell you how he came completely armed in the streets of Paris -at that hour of the night?" asked Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He said he came forth at the cries," answered the servant.</p> - -<p class="normal">"How long may it take to arm a man completely, except the head?" asked -the young gentleman.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I don't know," answered the servant; "I don't bear arms."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do," answered Jean Charost; "and so do these noble lords; nor is it -probable that a man could shuffle on his armor in time to be there on -the spot so soon, unless he were well armed before. Now tell me, what -was this man's name?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The man hesitated; but the Duke of Berri thundered from the head of -the table, "Answer at once, sir. You have said he was a gentleman of -good repute; you must therefore know him. What was his name?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"William of Courthose," answered the man; "the brother of the king's -valet de chambre."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where is he?" asked the Duke of Berri, so sternly, that the man -became more and more alarmed, judging that his stupid activity might -not prove so honorable to himself as he had expected.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not know rightly, your highness," he replied. "His brother told -me to-day he had gone to Artois."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a silence all through the room at this announcement. Jean -Charost asked no more questions. Several of the council looked -meaningly in each other's faces, and the Duke of Berri gazed -thoughtfully down at the table.</p> - -<p class="normal">The chaplain of the late Duke of Orleans, however, and Seigneur André, -his fool, moved round and got behind the prince's chair.</p> - -<p class="normal">The former bent his head, and said a few words in a low tone; and the -duke instantly looked up, saying, "It seems, Monsieur De Brecy, that -there was a quarrel between yourself and my unhappy nephew. You were -heard speaking loud and angrily in his apartments; you left him half -way to the Hôtel Barbette. Explain all this!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"There was no quarrel, my lord," replied Jean Charost; "there could be -no quarrel between an humble man like myself and a prince of the blood -royal. His highness reproved me for something I had done amiss, and -his voice was certainly loud when he did so. He pardoned me, however, -on my apology, took me with him on his way to the Hôtel Barbette, sent -me to deliver a letter and receive an answer, and commanded me to -rejoin him at her majesty's house, which I was on the way to do when I -was arrested."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What was the cause of his reproving you?" asked the Duke of Berri; -"to whom did he send you with a letter, and where did you pass the -time from the moment you left him to the moment of your arrest? You -had better, Monsieur De Brecy, give a full account of your whole -conduct from the time of your arrival in Paris till the time of your -apprehension."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost looked down thoughtfully, and his countenance changed. To -betray the secrets of the dead, to plant a fresh thorn in the heart of -the Duchess of Orleans, already torn, as it must be, to explain how -and why he had hesitated to obey his lord's commands, was what he -would fain escape from at almost any risk; and his confidence in his -own innocence made him believe that his refusal could do him no -material damage.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It will be better for yourself, sir, to be frank and candid," said -the Duke of Berri; "a few words may clear you of all suspicion."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I doubt it not, your highness," replied Jean Charost; "for as yet I -see no cause for any. Were I myself alone concerned, I would willingly -and at once state every act of my own and every word I uttered; but, -my lord, in so doing, I should be obliged to give also the acts and -words of my noble master. They were spoken to me in confidence, as -between a frank and generous prince and his secretary. He is dead; but -that absolves me not from the faithful discharge of my duty toward -him. What he confided to me--whither he sent me--nay, even more, the -very cause of his reproving me, which involves some part of his own -private affairs, I will never disclose, be the consequence what it -may; and I do trust that noble princes and honorable gentlemen will -not require an humble secretary, as I am, to betray the secrets of his -lord."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are bound, sir, by the law, to answer truly any questions that -the king's council may demand of you," said the King of Navarre, -sternly; "if not, we can compel you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think not, my lord," replied Jean Charost; "I know of no means -which can compel an honorable man to violate a sacred duty."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha, ha!" shouted Seigneur André; "he does not know of certain -bird-cages we have in France to make unwilling warblers sing. Methinks -one screw of the rack would soon make the pretty creature open its -bill."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think so too," said the King of Navarre, setting his teeth, and not -at all well pleased with Jean Charost's reply. "We give you one more -chance, sir; will you, or will you not, answer the Duke of Berri's -questions? If not, we must try the extent of your obstinacy."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke he beckoned up to him the <i>prévôt</i>; of Paris, who had -entered the hall a few minutes before, and spoke to him something in a -whisper; to which the other replied, "Oh yes, sir, in the other -chamber; the screw will do; it has often more power than the rack."</p> - -<p class="normal">In the mean time, a struggle had been going on in the breast of Jean -Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">It is often very dangerous to commit one's self by words to a certain -course of action. So long as we keep a debate with ourselves within -the secret council-chamber of our own bosom, we feel no hesitation in -retracting an ill-formed opinion or a rash resolution; but when we -have called our fellow-creatures to witness our thoughts or our -determinations, the great primeval sin of pride puts a barrier in our -way, and often prevents us going back, even when we could do so with -honor.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost was as faulty as the rest of our race, and perhaps it -would be too much to say that pride had no share in strengthening his -resolution; but, after a short pause, he replied, "My lord, the Duke -of Berri, take it not ill of me, I beg your highness, that I say any -questions simply regarding myself I will answer truly and at once; but -none in any way affecting the private affairs of my late royal master -will I answer at all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We can not suffer our authority to be set at naught," said the Duke -of Berri, gravely; and the King of Navarre, turning with a heavy frown -to the <i>prévôt</i>, exclaimed, "Remove him, Monsieur Tignonville, and -make him answer."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost turned very pale, but he said nothing; and two of the -<i>prévôt's</i>; men laid their hands upon him, and drew him from the end of -the table.</p> - -<p class="normal">At the same moment, however, another young man started forward, with -his face all in a glow, exclaiming, "Oh, my lords, my lords! for -pity's sake, for your own honor's sake, forbear! He is as noble and as -faithful a lad as ever lived--well-beloved of the prince whom we all -mourn. Think you that he, who will suffer torture rather than betray -his lord's secrets, would conspire his death?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It may be his own secrets he will not reveal," said the Duke of -Berri.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Meddle not with what does not concern you," cried the King of -Navarre, sternly.</p> - -<p class="normal">But Jean Charost turned his head as they were taking him from the -room, and exclaimed, "Thank you, De Royans--thank you! That is noble -and just."</p> - -<p class="normal">He was scarcely removed when the Duke of Burgundy entered by the great -entrance, and the King of Sicily by a small door behind the Duke of -Berri. The former was alone, but the latter was followed by several of -the officers of his household, and in the midst of them appeared a -young girl, leaning on the arm of an elder woman dressed as a superior -servant.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I heard that Monsieur De Brecy was under examination," said Louis of -Anjou, looking round, "accused of being accessory to the murder. Is he -not here?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He has retired with a friend," said Seigneur André, who thought it -his privilege to intermeddle with all conversation.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The truth is, fair cousin," answered the King of Navarre, "we have -found him a very obstinate personage to deal with, setting at naught -the authority of the council, and refusing to answer the questions -propounded to him. We have therefore been compelled to employ means -which usually make recusants answer."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good God! I hope not," exclaimed the Duke of Anjou. "Here is a young -lady who can testify something in his favor."</p> - -<p class="normal">He turned as he spoke toward the young girl who had followed him into -the hall, and who has more than once appeared upon the scene already. -She was deadly pale, but those energies which afterward saved France -failed her not now. She loosed her hold of the old servant's arm, on -which she had been leaning, took a step forward, and, with her hands -clasped, exclaimed, "In God's name, mighty princes, forbear! Send a -messenger, if you would save your own peace, and countermand your -terrible order. I know not why you have doomed an innocent man to -torture, but right sure I am that somehow he has brought such an -infliction on his head by honesty, and not by crime; by keeping his -faith, not by breaking it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"They are made for each other," said the King of Navarre, coldly. -"They both speak in the same tone. Who is she, cousin of Sicily?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mademoiselle De St. Geran--Agnes Sorel," answered the Duke of Anjou, -in a low tone. "One of the maids of honor to my wife."</p> - -<p class="normal">But Agnes took no notice of their half-heard colloquy, and, turning at -once with quick decision and infinite grace toward the Duke of -Burgundy, who sat with his head leaning on his hand, and his eyes -fixed upon the table, she exclaimed, "My lord the Duke of Burgundy, I -beseech you to interfere. You know this young man--you know he is -faithful and true--you know he refused to betray the secret of his -lord, even at your command, and dared your utmost anger. You know he -is not guilty."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do," said the Duke of Burgundy, rising, and speaking in a hoarse, -hollow tone. "My lords, he is not guilty--I am sure. Suspend your -order, I beseech you. Send off to the Châtelet, and let him--"</p> - -<p class="normal">A deep groan, which seemed almost a suppressed cry, appeared to -proceed from a door half way down the hall, and swell through the -room, like the note of an organ.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is not far off, as you may hear," said the King of Navarre, with -an indifferent manner. "Tell them to stop, if you please, fair -cousin."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Duke of Burgundy had waited to ask no permission, but was already -striding toward the door. He threw it sharply open, and entered a -small room having no exit, except through the hall; but he paused, -without speaking, for a moment, although before his eyes lay poor Jean -Charost strapped down upon a sort of iron bedstead, and one of the -<i>prévôt's</i>; men stood actually turning a wheel at the head, which -elongated the whole frame, and threatened to tear the unfortunate -sufferer to pieces. For an instant, the duke continued to gaze in -silence, as if desirous of seeing how much the unhappy young man could -bear. But Jean Charost uttered not a word. That one groan of agony had -burst from him on first feeling the <i>peine forte et dure</i>. But now his -resolution seemed to have triumphed over human weakness, and, with his -teeth shut and his eyes closed, he lay and suffered without a cry.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hold!" exclaimed the duke, at length. "Hold, Messire Prévôt. Unbind -the young man. He is not guilty!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke then slowly moved toward the door, and closed it sharply, -while Jean Charost was removed from his terrible couch, and a little -water given him to drink. He sat up, and leaned his head upon his -hand, with his eyes still closed, and not even seeming to see who had -come to deliver him. The <i>prévôt's</i>; men approached, and attempted, -somewhat rudely, to place upon him his coat and vest, which had been -taken off to apply the torture.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Patience--patience, for a moment!" he said.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the mean while, the Duke of Burgundy had approached close to him, -and stood gazing at him with his arms crossed on his broad chest. "Can -you speak, young man?" he said, at length.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost inclined his head a little further.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What was it you refused to tell the council?" asked the duke.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where the Duke of Orleans sent me last night," answered the young -man, faintly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Faithful and true, indeed!" said the Duke of Burgundy; and then, -laying his broad hand upon the youth's aching shoulder, he said, in a -low tone, "If you seek new service, De Brecy, join me at Mons in a -week. I will raise you to high honor; and remember--this you have -suffered was not my doing. I came to deliver you. Now bring him in, -<i>prévôt</i>, as soon as he can bear it."</p> - -<p class="normal">When the duke returned to the hall, he found Agnes Sorel standing by -the side of the Duke of Berri, although a chair had been placed for -her by one of the gentlemen near; for in those days there was the -brilliant stamp of chivalrous courtesy on all French gentlemen, in -external things at least, though since blotted out by the blood of -Lamballe and Marie Antoinette.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your testimony as to his general character and uprightness, my fair -young lady," said the Duke of Berri, in a kindly tone, "will have the -weight that it deserves with the council, but we must have something -more definite here. We find that he was absent more than an hour from -the duke's suite, when my poor nephew had ordered him to rejoin him -immediately, and that this fearful assassination was committed during -that period. He refuses to answer as to where he was, or what he was -doing during that time. We will put the question to him again," he -continued, looking toward the door at which Jean Charost now appeared, -supported by two of the <i>prévôt's</i>; men, and followed by that officer -himself. "Has he made any answer, Monsieur De Tignonville?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not a word, your highness," replied the <i>prévôt</i>.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Noble lad!" said Agnes Sorel, in a low voice, as if to herself; and -then continued, raising her tone, "My lord the duke, I will tell you -where he was, and what he was doing."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Duke of Burgundy started, and looked suddenly up; but Agnes went -on. "Although there be some men to whose characters certain acts are -so repugnant that to suppose them guilty of them would be to suppose -an impossibility, and though I and the mighty prince there opposite -can bear witness that such is the case even in this instance, yet, -lest he should bring himself into danger by his faithfulness, I will -tell you what he will not speak, for I am bound by no duty to refrain. -He was at the house of Madame De Giac, sent thither with a note by the -Duke of Orleans. She told me so herself this morning, and lamented -that a foolish trick she caused her servants to play him--merely to -see how he, in his inexperience, would escape from a difficulty--had -prevented him from rejoining his princely master, though, as she -justly said, her idle jest had most likely saved the young man's -life."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Skillfully turned," muttered the Duke of Burgundy between his teeth, -and he looked up with a relieved expression of countenance.</p> - -<p class="normal">"If my lords doubt me," continued the young girl, "let them send for -Madame De Giac herself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay, we doubt you not," said the Duke of Burgundy; "and so sure -am I of the poor lad's innocence--although he offended me somewhat at -Pithiviers--that I propose he should be instantly liberated, and -allowed to retire."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Open the door, but first clip the bird's wings," said Seigneur André. -"He won't fly far, I fancy, after the trimming he has had."</p> - -<p class="normal">The proposal of the Duke of Burgundy, however, was at once acceded to; -and Louis of Anjou, whose heart was a kindly one, notwithstanding some -failings, leaned across the table toward Agnes Sorel, saying, "Take -him with you, pretty maid, and try what you and the rest can do to -comfort him till I come."</p> - -<p class="normal">Agnes frankly held out her hand to Jean Charost, saying, "Come, -Monsieur De Brecy, you need rest and refreshment. Come; you shall have -the sweetest music you have ever heard to cheer you, and may have to -thank the musician too."</p> - -<p class="normal">With feeble and wavering steps, the young gentleman followed her from -the room; and the moment the door was closed behind them, the King of -Sicily turned to the <i>prévôt</i>, saying, "This young man is clearly -innocent, Monsieur De Tignonville. Do you not think so?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have never thought otherwise, my lord," replied the <i>prévôt</i>.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, sir," said the Duke of Berri, "you have doubtless used -all diligence, as we commanded this morning, to trace out those who -have committed so horrible a crime as the assassination of the king's -own brother."</p> - -<p class="normal">"All diligence have I used, noble lords and mighty princes," said De -Tignonville, advancing to the edge of the table, and speaking in a -peculiarly stern and resolute tone of voice; "but I have yet -apprehended none of the assassins or their accomplices. Nevertheless, -such information have I received as leads me to feel sure that I shall -be able to place them before you ere many hours are over, if you will -give me the authority of the council to enter and examine the houses -of all the servants of the king and those of the princes--even of the -blood royal; which, as you know, is beyond my power without your -especial sanction."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Most assuredly," replied the King of Sicily. "Begin with mine, if you -please. Search it from top to bottom. There are none of us here who -would stand upon a privilege that might conceal the murderer of Louis -of Orleans."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There can be no objection," said the Duke of Berri. "Search mine, -when you please, Monsieur le Prévôt."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And mine," said the Duke of Bourbon.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And mine--and mine," said several of the lords of the council.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Duke of Burgundy said nothing; but sat at the table, with his face -pale, and his somewhat harsh features sharpened, though motionless. At -length he started up from the table, and exclaimed, in a sharp, quick -tone, "Come hither, Sicily--come hither, my fair uncle of Berri. I -would I speak a word with you;" and he strode toward the great door, -followed by the two princes whom he had selected.</p> - -<p class="normal">Between the great door and that of an outer hall was a small -vestibule, with a narrow stair-case on one side, on the lower steps of -which some attendants were sitting, when the duke appeared suddenly -among them.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Avoid!" he said, in a tone so loud and harsh as to scatter them at -once like a flock of frightened sheep. He then closed both the doors, -looked up the stair-case, and drew the Duke of Berri toward him, -whispering something in his ear in a low tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">The venerable prince started back, and gazed at him with a look of -horror. "It was a suggestion of the great enemy," said Burgundy, "and -I yielded."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What does he say--what does he say?" exclaimed the King of Sicily.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That he--he ordered the assassination," answered the Duke of Berri, -in a sad and solemn tone. "I have lost two nephews in one night!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The Duke of Anjou drew back with no less horror in his face than that -which had marked the countenance of the Duke of Berri; but he gave -more vehement way to the feeling of reprobation which possessed -him, expressing plainly his grief and indignation. He was brief, -however, and soon laid his hand upon the lock to open the door of the -council-chamber again.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, stay, Louis," said the Duke of Berri. "Let us say nothing of -this terrible truth till we have well considered what is to be done."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Done!" repeated the Duke of Burgundy, gazing at them both with a look -of stern surprise, as if he had fully expected that his acknowledgment -of the deed was to make it pass uninvestigated and unpunished; and -passing between his two relations, he too approached the door as if to -go in.</p> - -<p class="normal">But the Duke of Berri barred the way. "Go not into the council, fair -nephew," he said. "It would not please me, nor any other person there, -to have you among us now."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Duke of Burgundy gave him one glance, but answered nothing; and, -passing through the opposite door and the outer hall, mounted his -horse and rode away, followed by his train.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let us break up the council, Louis," said the Duke of Berri, "and -summon it for to-morrow morning. I will hie me home, and give the next -hours to silent thought and prayer. You do the same; and let us meet -to-morrow before the council reassembles."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My thoughts are all confused," said the King of Sicily. "Is it a -dream, noble kinsman--a bloody and terrible dream? Well, go you in. I -dare not go with you. I should discover all. Say I am sick--God knows -it is true--sick, very sick at heart."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he turned toward the stair-case, and while the Duke of -Berri returned to those he had left, and broke up the council -abruptly, the other prince proceeded slowly and gloomily toward his -wife's apartments. When he reached the top of the stairs, however, and -opened the door at which they terminated, a strain of the most -exquisite music met his ear, sweet, slow, and plaintive, but yet not -altogether melancholy.</p> - -<p class="normal">Oh, how inharmonious can music sometimes be to the spirits even of -those who love it best!</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXIX.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">There are moments in life when even kindness and tenderness -have no -balm--when all streams are bitter because the bitterness is in -us--when the heart is hardened to the nether millstone by the Gorgon -look of despair--when happiness is so utterly lost that unhappiness -has no degrees. There are such moments; but, thank God, they are few.</p> - -<p class="normal">Heavy in heart and spirit, indignant at the treatment he had received, -with his mind full of grief and horror at the dreadful death of a -prince he had well loved, and with a body weary and broken with the -torture he had undergone, still Jean Charost found comfort and relief -in the soothing tenderness of Agnes Sorel, and of two or three girls -somewhat older than herself, who lavished kindness and attention upon -him as soon as they learned what had just befallen him. Some wine was -brought, and fair hands gave it to him, and all that woman's pity -could do was done. But Agnes had that morning learned the power of -music, and, running away into an ante-room, she exclaimed, "Where is -our sweet musician? Here, boy--here! Bring your instrument, and try -and comfort him for whom you pleaded so hard just now. He needs it -much."</p> - -<p class="normal">Petit Jean rose instantly, paused for one moment to screw up a little -one of the strings of his violin, and then followed into the inner -room, giving a timid glance around over the fair young faces which -were gathered about Jean Charost. But his eyes soon settled upon the -sufferer with an inquiring look, which put the question as plainly as -in words, "What is the matter with him?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"They have put him to the torture," whispered Agnes; and the boy, -after a moment's pause, raised his instrument to his shoulder and drew -from it those sweet tones which the Duke of Anjou had heard. A short -time before, he had played a dirge for the Duke of Orleans in the -presence of the Queen of Sicily--I can hardly call it one of his own -compositions, but rather one of his inspirations. It had been deep, -solemn, almost terrible; but now the music was very different, sweet, -plaintive, and yet with a mingling of cheerfulness every now and then, -as if it would fain have been gay, but that something like memory -oppressed the melody. It was like a spring day in the country--a day -of early spring--when winter is still near at hand, though summer lies -on before.</p> - -<p class="normal">To enjoy fine and elaborate music aright, we require some learning, a -disciplined and practiced ear; but those, I believe, who have heard -the least music are more deeply affected by simple melodies. The -sensations which Jean Charost experienced are hardly to be described, -and when the boy ceased, he held out his hand to him, saying, "Thank -you, thank you, my young friend. You have done me more good than ever -did leech to sick man."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have more to thank him for than that," said Agnes, with a smile, -which brought out upon her face, not then peculiarly handsome, that -latent, all-captivating beauty which was afterward her peril and her -power. "Had it not been for him, neither the Queen of Sicily nor I -would ever have heard of your danger."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How can that be?" asked Jean Charost. "I do not know him--I never saw -him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nor I you," replied the boy; "but 'tis the story of the lion and the -mouse that my grandmother told me. You have a lackey called Martin -Grille. He is my cousin. You have been kind to him; he has been kind -to me; and so the whole has gone in a round. He gave me the first -crown he could spare; that helped me to buy this thing that speaks so -sweetly when I tell it. It said to that young lady, and to the queen, -to have pity; and they had pity on you; and so that went in a round -too. But I must go now, for I have to meet Martin on the parvis, and I -shall be too late."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay a moment," said Agnes. "You have had no reward."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh yes, I have," replied the boy. "Reward enough in setting him -free."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, that was but justice," she answered. "Stay but a moment, and I -will tell the queen you are going."</p> - -<p class="normal">One of the other girls accompanied her, and two more dropped away -before she returned. Another, who was elder, remained talking with -Petit Jean, and asking him many questions as to how he had acquired -such skill in music. The boy said, God sent it; that from his infancy -he had always played upon any instrument he could get; that one of the -chanters of Nôtre Dame had taught him a little, and a blind man, who -played on the cornemuse, had given him some instruction. That was all -that he could tell; but yet, though he showed no learning, he spoke of -his beautiful art with a wild confidence and enthusiasm that the young -denizen of an artificial court could not at all comprehend. At length -Agnes returned alone, bearing a small silk purse in her hand, which -she gave to the boy, saying, "The queen thanks you, Petit Jean; and -bids you come to her again on Sunday night. To-day she can hear -nothing that is not sad; but she would fain hear some of your gayer -music."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Tell Martin that I will be home soon," said Jean Charost. "Indeed, I -see not why I should not go with you now. Methinks I could walk to the -hotel."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay," said Agnes, kindly; "you shall not go yet. The king has given -me charge of you, and I will be obeyed. It will be better that he tell -your servant to come hither, and inquire for Madame De Busserole, our -superintendent. Then, when you have somebody with you, you can go in -more safety. Tell him so, Petit Jean. I must let Madame De Busserole -know, however, lest the young man be sent away."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will tell her," said the other maid of honor. "You stay with your -friend, Agnes; for I have got that rose in my embroidery to finish. -Farewell, Monsieur De Brecy. If I were a king, I would hang all the -torturers and burn all the racks, with the man who first invented them -in the middle of them." And she tripped gayly out of the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">The boy took his departure at the same time; and Jean Charost and -Agnes were left alone together, or nearly so--for various people came -and went--during well-nigh an hour. The light soon began to fade, and -a considerable portion of their interview passed in twilight; but -their conversation was not such as to require any help from the looks. -It was very calm and quiet. Vain were it, indeed, to say that they did -not take much interest in each other. But both were very young, and -there are different ways of being young. Some are young in years--some -in mind--some in heart. Agnes and Jean Charost were both older than -their years in mind, but perhaps younger than their years in heart; -and nothing even like a dream of love came over the thoughts of -either.</p> - -<p class="normal">They talked much of the late Duke of Orleans, and Jean Charost told -her a good deal of the duchess. They talked, too, of Madame De Giac; -and Agnes related to him all the particulars of that lady's visit to -her in the morning.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why she came, I really do not know," said the young girl. "Although -she is a distant cousin of my late father's, there was never any great -love between us, and we parted with no great tenderness two days after -I saw you at Pithiviers. Her principal object seemed to be to tell me -of your having visited her yesterday night, and to mention the foolish -trick she played upon you. That she seemed very eager to explain--I -know not why."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost mused somewhat gloomily. There were suspicions in his -breast he did not like to mention; and the conduct and demeanor of -Madame De Giac toward himself were not what he could tell to her -beside him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I love not that Madame De Giac," he said, at length.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I never loved her," answered Agnes. "I can remember her before her -marriage, and I loved her not then; but still less do I esteem her -now, after having been more than ten days in her company. It is -strange, Monsieur De Brecy, is it not, what it can be that gives -children a sort of feeling of people's characters, even before they -have any real knowledge of them. She was always very kind to me, even -as a child; but I thought of her then just as I think of her now, -though perhaps I ought to think worse; for since then she has said -many things to me which I wish I had never heard."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How so!" asked Jean Charost, eagerly. "What has she said?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, much that I can not tell--that I forget," answered Agnes, with -the color mounting in her cheek. "But her general conversation, with -me at least, does not please me. She speaks of right and wrong, -honesty and dishonesty, as if there were no distinctions between them -but those made by priests and lawyers. Every thing, to her mind, -depends upon what is most advantageous in the end; and that is the -most advantageous, in her mind, which gives the most pleasure."</p> - -<p class="normal">"She may be right," answered Jean Charost, "if she takes the next -world into account as well as this. But still I think her doctrines -dangerous ones, and would not have any one to whom I wish well listen -to them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I never do," answered Agnes; "but she laughs at me when I tell her I -would rather not hear; and tells me that all these things, and indeed -the whole world, will appear to me as differently ten years hence as -the world now does compared with what it seemed to me as an infant. I -do not think it; do you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can not tell," replied Jean Charost, gravely; "but I hope not; for -I believe it would be better for us all could we always see the world -with the eyes of childhood. True, it has changed much to my own view -within the last few months; but it has changed sadly, and I wish I -could look upon it as I did before. That can not be, however; and I -suppose we are all--though men more than women--destined to see these -changes, and to pass through them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Men can bear them better than women," answered Agnes. "A storm that -breaks a flower or kills a butterfly, does not bend an oak or scare an -eagle. Well, we must endure whatever be our lot; but I often think, -Monsieur De Brecy, that, had the choice been mine, I would rather have -been a peasant girl--not a serf, but a free farmer's daughter--with a -tall, white cap, and a milk-pail on my arm, than a lady of the court, -with all these gauds and jewels about me. If my poor mother had lived, -I should never have been here."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus they rambled on for some time, till at length it was announced -that Martin Grille was in waiting; and Jean Charost took his leave of -his fair companion, pouring forth upon her at the last moment his -thanks for all she had done to serve and save him. He was still stiff -and weak, feeling as if every bone in his body had been crushed, and -every muscle riven; but he contrived to reach the Hôtel d'Orleans, -with the assistance of Martin Grille.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was now quite dark; but in the vestibule, which has been often -mentioned, a number of the unfortunate duke's servants and retainers -were assembled, among whom Jean Charost perceived at once, by the dim -light of the lanterns, the faces of the chaplain and Seigneur André. -As soon as the latter saw him leaning feebly on his servant, he cried -out, with an exulting laugh, "Ah, here comes the lame sparrow who was -once so pert."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Silence, fool!" cried a loud voice, "or I will break your head for -you." And Juvenel de Royans came forward, holding out his hand to Jean -Charost. "Let us be friends, De Brecy," he said. "I have done you some -wrong--I have acted foolishly--like a boy; but this last fatal night, -and this day, have made a man of me, and I trust a wiser one than I -have ever shown myself. Forget the past, and let us be friends."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Most willingly," replied Jean Charost. "But I must get to my chamber, -De Royans, for, to say the truth, I can hardly drag my limbs along."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Curses upon them!" replied De Royans "the cruel monsters, to torture -a man for faithfulness to his lord! Let me help you, De Brecy." And, -putting his strong arm through that of Jean Charost, he aided him to -ascend the stairs, and with rough kindness laid him down upon his bed.</p> - -<p class="normal">Here, during the evening, the young secretary was visited by various -members of the household, though, to say truth, he was in no very -fit state to entertain them. Lomelini came, with his soft and -somewhat cunning courtesy, to ask what he could do for the young -gentleman--doubting not that he would take a high place in the favor -of the duchess. The chaplain came to excuse himself for having -suggested certain questions to the king's counsel, and did it somewhat -lamely.</p> - -<p class="normal">Old Monsieur Blaize visited him, to express warm and hearty applause -of the young man's conduct in all respects. "Do your <i>devoir</i>; as -knightly in the field, my young friend," he said, "as you have done it -before the council, and you will win your golden spurs in the first -battle that is stricken."</p> - -<p class="normal">Several of the late duke's knights, with whom Jean Charost had formed -no acquaintance, came also to express their approbation; but praise -fell upon a faint and heavy ear; for all he had passed through was not -without consequences more serious than were at first apparent.</p> - -<p class="normal">Martin Grille overflowed with joy and satisfaction so sincere and -radiant at the escape of his master, that Jean Charost could not help -being touched by the good valet's attachment. But, as a true -Frenchman, he was full of his own part in the young gentleman's -deliverance, attributing to himself and his own dexterity all honor -and praise for the result which had been attained. He perceived not, -for some time, in his self-gratulations, that Jean Charost could -neither smile nor listen; that a red spot came in his cheek; that his -eyes grew blood-shot, and his lip parched. At length, however, a few -incoherent words alarmed him, and he determined to sit by his master's -bedside and watch. Before morning he had to seek a physician; and then -began all the follies of the medical art, common in those times.</p> - -<p class="normal">For fourteen days, however, Jean Charost was utterly unconscious of -whether he was treated well or ill, kindly or the reverse; and at the -end of that time, when the light of reason returned, it was but faint -and feeble. When first he became fully conscious, he found himself -lying in a small room, of which he thought he recollected something. -The light of an early spring day was streaming in through an open -window, with the fresh air, sweet and balmy; and the figure of a -middle-aged man, in a black velvet gown, was seen going out of the -door.</p> - -<p class="normal">The eyes of the young man turned from one object around him to -another. There was a little writing-table, two or three wooden -settles, a brazen sconce upon the wall, a well-polished floor of -brick, an ebony crucifix, with a small fountain of holy water beneath -it--all objects to which his eyes had been accustomed five or six -months before. The figure he had seen going out, with its quiet, firm -carriage, and easy dignity, was one that he recollected well; and he -asked himself, "Was he really still in the house of Jacques Cœur, -and was the whole episode of Agnes, and Juvenel de Royans, and the -imprisonment, and the torture, and the Duke of Orleans nothing but a -dream?"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXX.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">A week, a fortnight, a month; what are they in the long, long, -boundless lapse of time? A point--a mere point on which the eye of -memory hardly rests in the look-back of a lifetime, unless some of -those marking facts which stamp particular periods indelibly upon the -heart have given it a durable significance. Yet, even in so brief a -space, how much may be done. Circumscribe it as you will--make it a -single hour--tie down the passing of that hour to one particular spot; -and in that hour, and on that spot, deeds may be written on eternity -affecting the whole earth at the time, affecting the whole human race -forever. No man can ever overestimate the value of the actions of an -hour.</p> - -<p class="normal">Within the period of Jean Charost's sickness and recovery, up to the -time when he fully regained his consciousness, events had been going -on around him which greatly influenced, not only his fate, but the -fate of mighty nations. The operation, indeed, was not immediate; but -it was direct and clear; and we must pause for a moment in the more -domestic history which we are giving, to dwell upon occurrences of -general importance, without a knowledge of which our tale could hardly -be understood.</p> - -<p class="normal">In confusion and dismay, accompanied by few attendants, and in a -somewhat stealthy manner, John of Burgundy fled from Paris, after -making his strange and daring confession of the murder of his near -kinsman, and the brother of his king.</p> - -<p class="normal">When informed of the avowal, the Duke of Bourbon, his uncle, and many -other members of the king's council, expressed high displeasure that -the Duke of Berri and the King of Sicily had suffered him to quit the -door of the council-chamber, except as a prisoner; and perhaps those -two princes themselves saw the error they had committed. Had they -acted boldly and decidedly upon the mere sense of justice and right, -France would have been spared many a bloody hour, a disastrous defeat, -and a long subjugation. But when the time of repentance came, -repentance was too late. The Duke of Burgundy was gone, and the tools -of his revenge, though he had boldly named them, had followed their -lord.</p> - -<p class="normal">All had gone, as criminals flying from justice, and such was their -terror and apprehension of pursuit, that they threw down spiked balls -in the snow behind them as they went, to lame the horses of those who -might follow. In the course of his flight, however, the Duke of -Burgundy recovered in part his courage and a sense of his dignity. His -situation was still perilous indeed; for he had raised enmity and -indignation against him in the hearts of all the princes of the blood -royal, and of many of the noblest men in France. Nay more, he had -alienated the most sincere and the most honorable of his own -followers, while the king himself, just recovered from one of his -lamentable fits of insanity, was moved by every feeling of affection, -and by the sense of justice and of honor, to punish the shameless -murderer of his brother.</p> - -<p class="normal">No preparation of any importance had been made to meet this peril; and -the Duke of Burgundy was saved alone by the hesitating counsels of old -and timid men, who still procrastinated till is was too late to act.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the mean time, the murderer determined upon his course. He not only -avowed, but attempted to justify the act upon motives so wild, so -irrational, so destitute of every real and substantial foundation, -that they could not deceive a child, and no one even pretended to be -deceived. He accused his unhappy victim of crimes that Louis of -Orleans never dreamed of--of aiming at the crown--of practicing upon -the health and striking at the life of the king, his brother, by -magical arts and devices. He did all, in short, to calumniate his -memory, and to represent his assassination as an act necessary to the -safety of the crown and the country. At the same time, he sent -messengers to his good citizens of Flanders, to his vassals of Artois, -to all his near relations, to all whom he could persuade or could -command, to demand immediate aid and assistance against the vengeful -sword which he fancied might pursue him, and he soon found himself at -the head of a force with which he might set the power of his king at -defiance. Lille, Ghent, Amiens, bristled with armed men, and John of -Burgundy soon felt that the murder of his cousin had put the destinies -of France into his hands.</p> - -<p class="normal">While this was taking place in the north and west, a different scene -was being enacted in Paris; a scene which, if the popular heart was -not the basest thing that ever God created, the popular mind the -lightest and most unreasonable, should have roused the whole citizens -to grief for him whom they had lost, to indignation against his daring -murderer. The Duchess of Orleans, accompanied by her youngest son, -entered Paris as a mourner, and threw herself at the feet of her -brother and her king, praying for simple justice. The will of the -murdered prince was opened; and, though his faults were many and -glaring, that paper showed, the frank and generous character of the -man, and was refutation enough of the vile calumnies circulated -against him. So firm and strong had been his confidence, so full and -clear his intention of maintaining in every respect the agreement of -pacification lately signed between himself and the Duke of Burgundy, -that he left the guardianship of his children to the very man who had -so treacherously caused his assassination. None of his friends, none -who had ever served him, were forgotten, and the tenacity of his -affection was shown by his remembering many whom he had not seen for -years. It was not wonderful, then, that those who knew and loved him -clung to his memory with strong attachment, and with a reverence which -some of his acts might not altogether warrant. It would not have been -wonderful if the generous closing of his life had taught the populace -of Paris to forget his faults and to revere his character. But the -herd of all great cities is but as a pack of hounds, to be cried on by -the voice of the huntsman against any prey that is in view; and the -herd of Paris is more reckless in its fierceness than any other on all -the earth.</p> - -<p class="normal">Fortune was with the Duke of Burgundy, and alas! boldness, decision, -and skill likewise. He held a conference with the Duke of Berri, and -the King of Sicily in his own city of Amiens, swarming with his armed -men. He placed over the door of the humble house in which he lodged -two lances crossed, the one armed with its steel head, the other -unarmed, ungarlanded--a significant indication that he was ready for -peace or war. The reproaches of the princes he repelled with -insolence, and treated their counsels and remonstrances with contempt. -Instead of coming to Paris and submitting himself humbly to the king, -as they advised, he marched to St. Denis with a large force, and then, -after a day's hesitation, entered the capital, armed cap-à-pie, amid -the acclamations of the populace.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Hôtel d'Artois, already a place of considerable strength, received -additional fortifications, and all the houses round about it were -filled with his armed men; but especial care was taken that the -soldiery should commit no excess upon the citizens, and though he -bearded his king upon the throne, and overawed the royal council, with -the true art of a demagogue he was humble and courteous toward the -lowest citizens, flattered those whom he despised, and eagerly sought -to make converts to his party in every class of society, partly by -corruption, and partly by terror. Wherever he went the people followed -at his heels, shouting his name, and vociferating, "Noël, noël!" and -gradually the unhappy king, oppressed by his own vassal, though adored -by his people, fell back into that lamentable state from which he had -but lately recovered.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such was the state of Paris when Jean Charost raised his head, and -gazed around the room in which he was lying. His sight was somewhat -dim, his brain was somewhat dizzy; feeble he felt as infancy; but yet -it was a pleasure to him to feel himself in that little room again, to -fancy himself moving in plain mediocrity, to believe that his -experience of courtly life was all a dream. What a satire upon all -those objects which form so many men's vain aspirations!</p> - -<p class="normal">When he had gazed at the window, and at the door, and at all the -little objects that were scattered directly before his eyes, he turned -feebly to look at things nearer to him. He thought he heard a sigh -close to his bedside; but a plain curtain was drawn round the head of -the bed, and he could only see from behind it part of a woman's black -robe falling in large folds over the knee.</p> - -<p class="normal">The little rustle that he made in turning seemed to attract the -attention of the watcher. The curtain was gently drawn back, and he -beheld his mother's face gazing at him earnestly. Oh, it was a -pleasant sight; and he smiled upon her with the love that a son can -only feel for a mother.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My son--my dear son," she cried; "you are better. Oh yes, you are -better?" And, darting to the door, she called to him who had just gone -out, "Messire Jacques, Messire Jacques. He is awake now; and he knows -me!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Gently, gently, dear lady," said Jacques Cœur, returning to the -room. "We must have great quiet, and all will go well."</p> - -<p class="normal">The widow sat down and wept, and the good merchant placed himself by -the young man's side, looked down upon him with a fatherly smile, and -pressed his fingers on the wrist, saying, "Ay, the Syrian drug has -done marvels. Canst thou speak, my son?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost replied in a voice much stronger than might have been -expected; but Jacques Cœur fell into a fit of thought even while he -spoke, which lasted some two or three minutes, and the young man was -turning toward his mother again, when the good merchant murmured, as -if speaking to himself, "I know not well how to act--there are dangers -every way. Listen to me, my son, but with perfect calmness, and let me -have an answer from your own lips, which I can send to the great man -whose messenger waits below. Two days ago we heard that the Duke of -Burgundy had caused inquiries to be made concerning you, as where you -were to be found, and when you had left the Hôtel d'Orleans. To-day he -has sent a gentleman to inquire if you will take service with him. He -offers you the post of second squire of his body, and promises -knighthood on the first occasion. What do you answer, Jean?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost thought for a moment, and then laid his hand upon his -brow; but at length he said, "'Twere better to tell him that I am too -ill to answer, or even to think, but that I will either wait upon him -or send him my reply in a few days."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Wisely decided," said Jacques Cœur, rising. "That answer will do -right well;" and, quitting the room, he left the door open behind him, -so that the young man could hear him deliver the message word for -word, merely prefacing it by saying, "He sends his humble duty to his -highness, and begs to say--"</p> - -<p class="normal">A rough voice, in a somewhat haughty tone, replied, "Is he so very -ill, then, sir merchant? His highness is determined to know in all -cases who is for him and who is against him. I trust you tell me true, -therefore."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You can go up, fair sir, and see," replied Jacques Cœur; "but I -must beg you not to disturb him with any talk."</p> - -<p class="normal">The other voice made no reply, but the moment after Jean Charost could -hear a heavy step coming up the stairs, and a good-looking man, of a -somewhat heavy countenance, completely armed, but with his beaver up, -appeared in the doorway. He merely looked in, however, and the pale -countenance and emaciated frame of the young gentleman seemed to -remove his doubts at once.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That will do," he said. "I can now tell what I have seen. The duke -will expect an answer in a few days. If he dies, let him know, for -there are plenty eager for the post, I can tell you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he turned away and closed the door; and Madame De Brecy -exclaimed, "God forbid that you should die, my son, or serve that bad -man either."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So say I too," replied Jean Charost. "I know not why you should feel -so regarding him, dear mother, but I can not divest my mind of a -suspicion that he countenanced, if he did not prompt, the death of the -Duke of Orleans."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you not know that he has avowed it?" exclaimed Madame De Brecy; -but her son's face turned so deadly pale, even to the very lips, that -Jacques Cœur interposed, saying gently, "Beware--beware, dear lady. -He can not bear any such tidings now. He will soon be well enough to -hear all."</p> - -<p class="normal">His judgment proved right. From that moment every hour gave Jean -Charost some additional strength; and that very day, before nightfall, -he heard much that imported him greatly to know. He now learned that -the Duchess of Orleans, after a brief visit to the capital to demand -justice upon the murderers of her husband, had judged it prudent to -retire to Blois, and to withdraw all the retainers of the late duke. -Jean Charost, being in no situation to bear so long a journey, she had -commended him especially to the care of Jacques Cœur, who had -ridden in haste to Paris on the news of assassination. He now learned, -also, that one of the last acts of the duke had been to leave him a -pension of three hundred crowns--then a large sum--charged upon the -county of Vertus, and that a packet addressed to him, sealed with the -duke's private signet, and marked, "To be read by his own eye alone," -had been found among the papers at the château of Beauté.</p> - -<p class="normal">He would have fain heard more, and prolonged the conversation upon -subjects so interesting to him, but Jacques Cœur wisely refused to -gratify him, and contrived to dole out his information piece by piece, -avoiding, as far as possible, all that could excite or agitate him. A -pleasant interlude, toward the fall of evening, was afforded by the -arrival of Martin Grille, whose joy at seeing his young master roused -from a stupor which he had fancied would only end in death was -touching in itself, although it assumed somewhat ludicrous forms. He -capered about the room as if he had been bit by a tarantula, and in -the midst of his dancing he fell upon his knees, and thanked God and -the blessed Virgin for the miraculous cure of his young lord, which he -attributed entirely to his having vowed a wax candle of three pounds' -weight to burn in the Lady Chapel of the Nôtre Dame in case of Jean -Charost's recovery. It seems that since the arrival of Madame de Brecy -in Paris, she and Martin Grille had equally divided the task of -sitting up all night with her son; and well had the faithful valet -performed his duty, for, without an effort, or any knowledge on his -part, Jean Charost had won the enthusiastic love and respect of one -who had entered his service with a high contempt for his want of -experience, and perhaps some intention of making the best of a good -place.</p> - -<p class="normal">Well has it been said that force of character is the most powerful of -moral engines, for it works silently, and even without the -consciousness of those who are subject to its influence, upon all that -approaches it. How often is it that we see a man of no particular -brilliance of thought, of manner, or of expression, come into the -midst of turbulent and unruly spirits, and bend them like osiers to -his will. Some people will have it that it is the clearness with which -his thoughts are expressed, or the clearness with which they are -conceived, the definiteness of his directions, the promptness of his -decisions, which gives him this power; but if we look closely, we -shall find that it is force of character--a quality of the mind which -men feel in others rather than perceive, and which they yield to often -without knowing why.</p> - -<p class="normal">The following morning rose like a wayward child, dull and sobbing; but -Jean Charost woke refreshed and reinvigorated, after a long, calm -night of sweet and natural sleep. His mother was again by his bedside, -and she took a pleasure in telling him how carefully Martin Grille had -preserved all his little treasures in the Hôtel d'Orleans, at a time -when the assassination of the duke had thrown all the better members -of the household into dismay and confusion, and left the house itself, -for a considerable time, at the mercy of the knaves and scoundrels -that are never wanting in a large establishment.</p> - -<p class="normal">She was interrupted in her details by the entrance of the very person -of whom she spoke, and at the same time loud cries and shouts and -hurras rose up from the street, inducing Jean Charost to inquire if -the king were passing along.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, fair sir," answered Martin Grille. "It is the king's king. But, -on my life, my lord of Burgundy does not much fear rusting his armor, -or he would not ride through the streets on such a day as this."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Does he go armed, then?" asked Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"From head to foot," answered his mother; and Martin Grille added, "He -is seldom without four or five hundred men-at-arms with him. Such a -sight was never seen in Paris. But I must go my ways, and get the news -of the day, for these are times when every man should know whatever -his neighbor is doing."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I fear your intelligence must stop somewhat short of that," said Jean -Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I shall get all the intelligence I want," replied the valet, with a -sapient nod of the head. "I have a singing bird in the court cage that -always sings me truly;" and away he went in search of news.</p> - -<p class="normal">During his absence, a consultation was held between Madame De Brecy, -her son, and Jacques Cœur as to what was to be done in regard to -the message of the Duke of Burgundy. "We have only put off the evil -day," said Jacques Cœur, "and some reply must soon be given."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My reply can be but one," answered Jean Charost; "that I will never -serve a murderer; still less serve the murderer of my dear lord."</p> - -<p class="normal">Madame De Brecy looked uneasy, and the face of Jacques Cœur was -very grave.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You surely would not have me do so, my dear mother?" said the young -gentleman, raising himself on his arm, and gazing in her face. "You -could not wish me, my good and honorable friend?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, Jean, no," answered Jacques Cœur; "but yet such a reply is -perilous; and before it is made, we must be beyond the reach of the -strong arm that rules all things in this capital. You have had a -taste, my son, of what great men will dare do to those who venture to -oppose them, even in their most unjust commands. Depend upon it, the -Duke of Burgundy will not scruple at acts which the king's council -themselves would not venture to authorize. Why he should wish to -engage you in his service I can not tell; but that he does so -earnestly is evident, and refusal will be very dangerous, even in the -mildest form."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Some fanciful connection between my fate and his was told him one -night by an astrologer," said Jean Charost. "That is the only motive -he can have."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps so," replied Jacques Cœur, thoughtfully; and then he -added, the moment after, "and yet I do not know. His highness is not -one to be influenced in his conduct by any visionary things; they may -have weight with him in thought, but not in action. If he had been -told that his death would follow the poor duke's as a natural -consequence, he would have killed him notwithstanding. He must have -seen something in you, my young friend, that he likes--that he thinks -will suit some of his purposes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He has seen little of me that should so prepossess him," answered the -young gentleman; "he has seen me peremptorily refuse to obey his own -commands, and obstinately deny the council the information they -wanted, even though they tried to wring it out by torture."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Probably the very cause," answered Jacques Cœur; "he loves men of -resolution. But let us return to the subject, my young friend. Your -answer must be somewhat softened. We must say that you are still too -ill to engage in any service; that you must have some months for -repose, and that then you will willingly obey any of his highness's -just commands."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Never, never!" answered Jean Charost, warmly; "I will never palter -with my faith and duty toward the dead. If ever I can couch a lance -against this duke's breast, I will aim it well, and the memory of my -master will steady my arm; but serve him I will never, nor even lead -him to expect it."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jacques Cœur and Madame De Brecy looked at each other in silence; -but they urged him no more; and the only question in their minds now -was, what course they could take not to suffer the young man's safety -to be periled in consequence of a resolution which they dared not -disapprove.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the midst of their consultation Martin Grille returned, evidently -burdened with intelligence, and that not of a very pleasant character.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is to be done, I know not," he said, with much trepidation; "I -can not, and I will not leave you, sir, whatever may come of it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is the matter, Martin?" asked Jacques Cœur. "Be calm, be calm -young man, and tell us plainly, whatever be the evil."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Listen, then, listen," said Martin Grille, lowering his voice almost -to a whisper. "An order is given out secretly to seize every Orleanist -now remaining in Paris in his bed this night at twelve of the clock. -It is true; it is true, beyond all doubt. I had it from my cousin -Petit Jean, who got it from his father, old Caboche, now the Duke of -Burgundy's right-hand man in Paris."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then we must go at once," said Jacques Cœur "Whatever be the risk, -we must try if you can bear the motion of a litter, Jean."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But all the gates are closed except two," said Martin Grille, "and -they suffer no one to go out without a pass. News has got abroad of -all this. The queen went yesterday to Melun. The King of Sicily, the -Duke of Berri, the Duke of Britanny have fled this morning. The Duke -of Bourbon has been long gone, and the Burgundians are resolved that -no more shall escape."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jacques Cœur gazed sternly down upon the floor, and Madame De Brecy -wrung her hands in despair.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Go, my friend, go," said Jean Charost; "you are not marked out as an -Orleanist. Take my mother with you. God may protect me even here. If -not, his will be done."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay," cried Martin Grille, "stay! I have thought of a way, perhaps. -Many of these Burgundian nobles are poor. Can not you lend one of them -a thousand crowns, Monsieur Jacques, and get a pass for yourself and -your family. He will be glad enough to give it, to see a creditor's -back turned, especially when he knows he can keep him at arm's length -as long as he will. I am sure my young lord will repay you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Repay me!" exclaimed Jacques Cœur, indignantly; "but your hint is -a good one. I will act upon it, but not exactly as you propose. Some -of them owe me enough already to wish me well out of Paris. Tell all -my people to get ready for instant departure; and look for a litter -that will hold two. I will away at once, and see what can be done."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Have plenty of men with you, Messire Jacques," said Martin Grille, -eagerly; "men that can fight, for there are Burgundian bands -patrolling all round the city. I am not good at fighting, and my young -lord is as bad as I am now."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We must take our chance," said Jacques Cœur, and quitted the room.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">It was past ten o'clock at night, when a litter, escorted by -four men -on horseback, passed the gates of Paris. A short detention took place -before the guards at the gates would suffer the party to proceed, and -one man went into the guardhouse, and brought out a lantern to examine -the inside of the litter and the countenances of the cavaliers. He -used it also to examine the pass, though, to say truth, he could not -read a word, albeit an officer of some standing. In this respect none -of his companions were in better case than himself; and they all -declared that the handwriting was so bad that nobody on earth could -read it. It seemed likely, at one time, that this illegibility of the -writing, or want of the reading faculty on the part of the guards, -might be made an excuse for detaining the whole party till somebody -with better eyes or better instruction should come up. But one of the -horsemen dismounted, saying, "I will read it to you;" and looking over -the officer's shoulder, he proceeded thus, "I, William, Marquis De -Giac, do hereby strictly enjoin and command you, in the name of the -high and mighty prince, John, duke of Burgundy, to pass safely through -the gates of Paris, without let or impediment, Maître Jacques Cœur, -clerk, his wife, and three serving-men, and to give them aid and -comfort in case of need, signed, De Giac."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is that it?" asked the officer, staring on the paper.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, don't you see?" answered Jacques Cœur, pointing with his -finger. "To let pass the gates of the city of Paris."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well, go along," said the man; and, mounting his horse again, -the merchant led the way; and the litter, with those that it -contained, followed.</p> - -<p class="normal">For a wonder, Martin Grille held his tongue all this time; but ere -they had gone half a dozen furlongs, he approached the side of the -litter, and, putting in his head, asked how his young master was.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Better, Martin, better," replied Jean Charost. "Every hour I feel -better."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, thank God, we are out of the city," said Martin Grille. "My -heart has been so often in my mouth during this last half hour, that I -thought I should bite it if I did but say a word. I wonder which way -we are to direct our steps now."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Toward Bourges, Martin," replied Jacques Cœur, who was riding -near.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Toward Bourges!" said Martin Grille. "Then what's to become of the -baby?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The baby!" repeated Madame De Brecy, in a tone as full of surprise as -that in which Martin had repeated the words "toward Bourges."</p> - -<p class="normal">"In Heaven's name, what baby?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost laid his hand gently on his mother, saying, "It is very -true, dear mother. A young child--quite an infant--has been given into -my care, and I have promised to protect and educate her."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But whose child is she?" asked Madame De Brecy, in a tone of some -alarm and consternation.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can not tell," replied her son. "I believe she is an orphan; but I -am ignorant of all the facts."</p> - -<p class="normal">"She is an orphan in a double sense," said Jacques Cœur, mingling -in the discourse; "at least I believe so. I have nothing to guide me -but suspicion, it is true; but my suspicion is strong. Ay, my young -friend: you are surprised that I know aught of this affair; but a -friend's eye is often as watchful as a parent's. I saw the child, some -days after it was given into your charge, and there is a strong -likeness--as strong as there can be between an infant and a grown -person--between this poor thing and one who is no more."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who--who?" asked Jean Charost, eagerly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"One whom you never saw," replied Jacques Cœur; and Jean Charost -was silent; for although he himself entertained suspicions, his -friend's words were quite adverse to them.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was well bethought of, Martin," continued Jacques Cœur, after a -short pause. "We had better take our way by Beauté. It is not far -round, and we shall all the sooner get within the posts of the Orleans -party; for they are already preparing for war. We can not take the -child with us, for she is too young to go without a nurse; but we can -make arrangements for her coming hereafter; and of course that which -you promised when in peril of your life had you refused, must be -performed to the letter, my young friend."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Assuredly," replied Jean Charost. "Can we reach Beauté to-night?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I fear not," answered the merchant. "But we must go on till we have -put danger behind us. Now draw the curtains of the litter again, and -try to sleep, my son. Sleep is a strange whiler away of weary hours."</p> - -<p class="normal">But, though the pace of the horse-litter was drowsy enough, it was -long before any thing like slumber came near the eyes of Jean Charost; -and he had just closed them, with a certain sort of heaviness of the -lids, when the words "Halt, halt, whoever you are!" were heard on all -sides, together with the tramp of many horses, and the jingling of -arms. Madame De Brecy and her son drew back the curtains instantly; -and they then found that they were surrounded by a large party of -men-at-arms, two or three of whom were conversing with Jacques -Cœur, a little in advance.</p> - -<p class="normal">The moon had somewhat declined; but it was shining on the faces of -several of the group; and, after gazing out for a moment or two, Jean -Charost exclaimed, "De Royans--Monsieur De Royans!"</p> - -<p class="normal">His voice, which was weak, was at first not attended to; but, on -repeating the call, one of the horsemen turned quickly round and rode -up to the side of the litter.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, De Brecy, is that you?" cried the young, man, holding out his -hand to him. "Here, Messire What's-your-name, we will believe you now; -for here is one who has suffered enough for his faithfulness to the -good duke. Why, how is this, De Brecy? In a litter--when we want every -man in the saddle. But I heard you were very ill. You must get well -soon, and strike a good stroke beside me and the rest, for the memory -of our good lord, whom they sent to heaven before his time. Oh, if I -could get one blow at that Burgundian's head, I would aim better than -I did at the Quintain. Well, you shall come on with us to Juvisy, and -we will lodge and entertain you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, Juvenel de Royans turned away, rode back to his -companions, and gave them explanations which seemed satisfactory; for -the merchant and his party were not only suffered to proceed, but -obtained the escort of some forty or fifty men-at-arms, who had been -about to return to Juvisy when they fell in with the little cavalcade -of Jacques Cœur.</p> - -<p class="normal">None of the many moral enigmas with which we are surrounded is more -difficult of comprehension to the mind of a man of fixed and resolute -character than the sudden changes which come upon more impulsive and -volatile people. The demeanor of Juvenel de Royans was a matter of -serious and puzzling thought to Jean Charost through the rest of the -journey. He seemed so entirely changed, not only in feelings toward -the young gentleman himself, but in disposition. Frank, active, -impetuous as ever, he had, in the space of a few terrible weeks, lost -the boyish flippancy of manner, and put on the manly character at -once. Jean Charost could not understand it at all; and it seemed to -him most strange that one who would willingly have cut his throat not -a month before, should now, upon the establishment of one very slight -link between them, treat him as a dear and ancient friend. Jean -Charost was less of a Frenchman than Juvenel de Royans, both by birth -and education; for the latter had been born in the gay and movable -south, and had been indulged, if not spoiled, during all his early -life; while the former had first seen the light in much more northern -regions, and had received very early severe lessons of adversity. -Neither, perhaps, had any distinct notion of the real causes of their -former enmity; but Jean Charost was, at least, well satisfied that it -should be terminated; and, as he was of no rancorous disposition, he -gladly received the proffered friendship of his former adversary; -though, to say sooth, he counted it at somewhat less than it was -worth, on account of the suddenness with which it had arisen. He knew -not that some of the trees which spring up the most rapidly are -nevertheless the most valuable.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Let us abridge and improve French history. As it is generally -written, -it is quite susceptible of both abridgment and improvement.</p> - -<p class="normal">The power of the Duke of Burgundy was without bounds in the city of -Paris, and his daring and his ferocity were as boundless. He -remembered ancient offenses as tenaciously as the Duke of Orleans had -remembered kindnesses, and every one in Paris who had at any time -shown enmity toward him either sought refuge in flight or stayed to -receive abundant marks of his vindictive memory. But he had skill -also, as well as daring; and especially that dark and politic skill -which teaches the demagogue to turn the best and wisest deeds of an -adversary to his disadvantage in the eyes of the people, and his own -worst actions to the services of his own ambition. Oh, what a fool is -The People! Always the dupe of hypocrisy and lies, always deceived by -promises and pretenses, always the lover and the support of those who -at heart most despise and condemn it. That great, many-headed fool -followed the duke's path with acclamations wherever he appeared, -although the evils under which they labored, notwithstanding all his -promises, were augmented rather than diminished by his sway.</p> - -<p class="normal">A hired sophist defended the assassination of the Duke of Orleans, in -presence of the court and the university, and the people shouted -loudly, though the excuse was too empty to deceive a child. The duke -declared that the maladministration of Orleans compelled the -continuance of the taxes promised to be repealed, and the people -shouted loudly still. The Prévôt De Tignonville was punished and -degraded for bringing two robbers to justice, though every one knew -the real offense was his proposal to search the houses of the princes -for the assassins of the Duke of Orleans; and still the people -shouted.</p> - -<p class="normal">Nevertheless, fortune was not altogether constant; and while the power -of the duke increased in the capital, let him do whatever he would, a -cloud was gathering round him from which he found it necessary to fly. -The Duchess of Orleans cried loudly for vengeance; the Dukes of -Bourbon, Brittany, and Berri armed for her support, and for the -deliverance of the throne. The queen, having the dauphin with her, -lent weight and countenance to the party, and gradually the forces of -the confederates increased so far that Paris was no longer a safe -asylum for the object of their just indignation.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was then that a revolt took place in Liege, where the -brother-in-law of the duke held the anomalous position of prince -bishop; and Burgundy hurried away from Paris both to aid his relation, -and to avoid the advance of the Orleanist army, without risking honor -and power upon an unequal battle. For a short space his position was -perilous. The strong-headed and turbulent citizens of Liege--no soft -and silky burghers, as they are represented by the great novelist in -an after reign--stout and hardy soldiers as ever were, dared the whole -power of Burgundy. An enemy's army was in his rear; all the princes of -the blood, the council, and most of the great vassals of France were -against him; but he fought and won a battle, captured Liege, and -turned upon his steps once more to overawe his enemies in France.</p> - -<p class="normal">Time enough had been given for disunion to spread among the allied -princes. William, count of Holland, interfered to gain over the queen -to the Burgundian party, and a hollow peace was brought about, known -as the peace of Chartres, which ended in the ascendency of the Duke of -Burgundy, and the temporary abasement of his enemies.</p> - -<p class="normal">Once more the vengeance of the duke was visited on the heads of all -distinguished persons who had shown themselves even indifferent to his -cause; but he forgot not his policy in his anger, and the spoils of -his victims conciliated fresh partisans.</p> - -<p class="normal">Intrigue succeeded intrigue for several years, and, in the midst of -disasters and disappointments, the spirit of Valentine, duchess of -Orleans, passed away from the earth (on which she had known little but -sorrow), still calling for justice upon the murderers of her husband. -Her children, however, were powerless at the time and it was not till -the marriage of her eldest son with the daughter of the Count of -Armagnac that the light of hope seemed to break upon them. Then began -that famous struggle between the parties known in history as the -Burgundians and Armagnacs. Paris became its great object of strife, -and, during the absence of the Duke of Burgundy, it was surrounded, if -not actually blockaded by the troops of Armagnac. The Orleanist party -within the walls comprised many of the noblest and most enlightened -men in France; but the lower classes of the people were almost to a -man Burgundians, and, forming themselves into armed bands, under the -leading of John of Troyes, a surgeon, and Simon Caboche, the cutler, -they received the name of Cabochians, and exercised that atrocious -ferocity which is the general characteristic of an ignorant multitude. -There was a reign of terror in Paris in the fifteenth as well as in -the eighteenth century, and many had cause to know that the red scarfs -of Burgundy were dyed in blood. Anarchy and confusion still reigned -within the walls: nor probably was the state of the country much -better. But at length the Duke of Burgundy, unable to oppose his -enemies in the field unaided, sought for and obtained the assistance -of six thousand English archers, and entered Paris in triumph.</p> - -<p class="normal">The offensive was soon after taken by the Burgundians, and the Duke of -Berri was besieged in Bourges; but Frenchmen were disinclined to fight -against Frenchmen, and a treaty as hollow as any of the rest was -concluded under the walls of that place. Even while the negotiations -went on, means were taken to open the eyes of the dauphin to the -ambition of the Burgundian prince; and John, <i>sans peur</i>, saw himself -opposed in the council by one who had long been subservient to his -will.</p> - -<p class="normal">But the duke found easy means to crush this resistance. The people of -Paris were roused, at his beck, into tumult; the Bastile was besieged -by the armed bands of Caboche and his companions, the palace of the -dauphin invaded, and he himself reduced to the state of a mere -prisoner. More bloodshed followed; and Burgundy at length found that -an enraged multitude is not so easily calmed as excited. His situation -became somewhat difficult. Although the dauphin was shut up in the -Hôtel St. Pol, he found means of communicating with the princes of the -blood royal without; and nothing seemed left for the Duke it Burgundy -but an extension of the convention of Bourges to a general peace with -all his opponents. This was concluded at Pontoise, much against the -will of the Parisians; the dauphin was set at liberty; and the leaders -of the Armagnac party were permitted to enter Paris. Burgundy soon -found that he had made a mistake; that his popularity with the people -was shaken, and his power over them gone. He was even fearful for his -person; and well might he be so. But his course was speedily -determined; and, after having failed in an attempt to carry off the -dauphin while on a party of pleasure at Vincennes, he retired in haste -to Flanders.</p> - -<p class="normal">A complete change of scene took place; the creatures of the Duke of -Burgundy were driven from power, and sanguinary retribution marked the -ascendency of the Armagnac party.</p> - -<p class="normal">The easiest labor of Hercules, probably, was the destruction of the -hydra; for creatures with many heads are always weaker than those with -one. Dissensions spread among the Armagnac faction. The queen and the -dauphin disagreed; and the prince, finding the tyranny of the -Armagnacs as hard to bear as that of the Burgundians, instigated the -duke to return to Paris. John without fear, however, had not force -sufficient to effect any great purpose; and, after an ineffectual -attempt to besiege the capital, he retired before a large army, -gathered from all parts of France, with the king and all the princes -of the blood at its head. Compiegne capitulated to the Armagnacs; -Soissons was taken by assault; but Arras held out, and once more -negotiations for peace commenced under its walls. A treaty was -concluded by the influence of the dauphin, who was weary of being the -shuttle-cock between two factions, and resolved to make himself master -of the capital. His first effort, however, was frustrated, and he was -compelled to fly to Bourges. With great adroitness, he then took -advantage of a proposed conference at Corbeil between himself and the -allied princes. He agreed to the meeting; but while they waited for -him at Corbeil, he passed quietly on to Paris, made himself master of -the capital, and seized the treasures which his mother had accumulated -in that city. Three parties now appeared in France: that of the Duke -of Burgundy; that of the allied princes; and that of the dauphin; and -in the mean while, an acute enemy, with some just pretensions to -certain portions of France, and unfounded claims to the crown itself, -was watching from the shores of England for a favorable moment to -seize upon the long-coveted possession. From the time of the treaty of -Bretigny, wars and truces had succeeded each other between the two -countries--hostilities and negotiations; and during the late -dissensions, English alliance had been sought and found by both -parties; but, at the same time, long discussions had taken place -between the courts of France and England with the pretended object of -concluding a general and definitive treaty of peace. Henry demanded -much, however; France would grant little; offensive words were added -to the rejection of captious proposals and suddenly the news spread -over the country like lightning, that Henry the Fifth of England had -landed in arms upon the coast of France.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">A few miles from the strong town of Bourges, on the summit of -a -considerable elevation, was a château or castle, even then showing -some signs of antiquity. It was not a very large and magnificent -dwelling, consisting merely of the outer walls with their flanking -towers, one tall, square tower, and one great mass stretching out into -the court, and rising to the height of two stories. In a small, plain -chamber, containing every thing useful and convenient, but nothing -very ornamental, sat a young gentleman of three or four-and-twenty -years of age, covered with corselet and back piece, but with his head -and limbs bare of armor. Two men, however, were busily engaged fitting -upon him the iron panoply of war. One was kneeling at his feet, -fastening the greaves upon his legs; the other stood behind, attaching -the pauldrons and pallets. On a table hard by stood a casque and -plume, beside which lay the gauntlets, the shield, and the sword; and -near the table stood a lady, somewhat past the middle age, gazing -gravely and anxiously at the young man's countenance.</p> - -<p class="normal">But there was still another person in the room. A young girl of some -six or seven years of age had climbed up upon the gentleman's knee, -and, was making a necklace for him of her arms, while ever and anon -she kissed him tenderly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You must come back, Jean--you must come back," she said; "though dear -mother says perhaps you may never come back--you must not leave your -own little Agnes. What would she do without you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost embraced her warmly, but he did not speak; for there were -many emotions in his heart which he feared might make his voice -tremble. Few who had seen him six or seven years before would have -recognized in that tall, powerful young man, the slim, graceful lad -who was secretary to the unfortunate Duke of Orleans; nor was the -change, perhaps, less in his mind than in his person, for although he -was of that character which changes slowly, yet all characters change. -The oak requires a hundred years; the willow hardly twenty; and as one -layer or circle grows upon another in the heart of the tree, so do new -feelings come over man's spirit as he advances from youth to age. Each -epoch in human life has the things pertaining to itself. The boy can -never divine what the man will feel; the man too little recollects -what were the feelings of the boy.</p> - -<p class="normal">However, the change in Jean Charost, in consequence of the -circumstances in which he had been placed, was somewhat different from -that which might have been expected. He had become tenderer rather -than harder in the last seven years, more flexible rather than more -rigid. Till between seventeen and eighteen years of age, hard -necessities, constant application, the everlasting dealing with -material things, the guard which he had been continually forced to put -upon himself--knowing that not only his own future fate might be -darkened, but the happiness and deliverance of a parent might be lost -by one false step--had all tended to give him an unyouthful sternness -of principle and of demeanor, which had perhaps saved him from many -evils, but had deprived him of much innocent enjoyment.</p> - -<p class="normal">Since the death of the Duke of Orleans, however, acting altogether as -his own master, seeing more of the general world, and with his mind -relieved from the oppressive cares and anxieties which may be said to -have frozen his youth, he had warmed, as it were, in the sunshine, and -all the more gentle things of the heart had come forth and blossomed. -I know not whether the love of that dear, beautiful child had not -greatly aided the change--whether his tenderness for her, and her -adoring fondness for him, had not called out emotions, natural but -latent, and affections which only wanted something to cling round. -Whenever he returned from any of the scenes of strife and trouble in -which he embarked with the rest, one of his first thoughts was of -Agnes. When he approached the gates of the old castle, his eyes were -always lifted to see her coming to meet him. When he sought a time of -repose in the plain and unadorned halls of his father, no gorgeous -tapestry, no gilded ceiling, no painted gallery could have ornamented -the place so well as the smiles of that sweet, young face. The balmy -influence of innocent childhood was felt by him very strongly.</p> - -<p class="normal">He was very indulgent toward her. His mother said he spoiled her. But -he used to laugh joyfully, and declare that nothing could spoil his -little Agnes; and, in truth, with him she was ever gentle and docile, -seeming to love obedience to his lightest word.</p> - -<p class="normal">And now he was going to leave her--to leave all he held most dear in -life for a long much--for a fierce strife--for a struggle on which the -fate of France depended. He was not without hope, he was not without -confidence; but if almost all men feel some shade of dread when -parting from a well-loved home on any ordinary occasion--if a chilling -conviction of the dreary uncertainty of all earthly things comes upon -them even--what must have been his sensations when he thought of all -that might happen between the hours of parting and returning?</p> - -<p class="normal">But the trumpet had sounded throughout the land. Every well-wisher of -his country was called upon to forget his domestic ties, and selfish -interests, and private quarrels, and arm to repel an invader. The -appeal was to the hearts of all Frenchmen, and he must go. Nay more, -he had taxed his utmost means, he had mortgaged the very bequest of -the Duke of Orleans, he had done every thing--but impoverish his -mother--in order to carry with him as many men as possible to swell -the hosts of France.</p> - -<p class="normal">The last piece of his armor was buckled on--Martin Grille took up the -casque--a cup of wine was brought, and Jean Charost embraced his -mother and the child.</p> - -<p class="normal">"How hard your breast is, Jean," said the little girl.</p> - -<p class="normal">"None too hard," said the mother. "God be your shield, my son. He is -better than sword or buckler."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Amen!" said Jean Charost, and left them.</p> - -<p class="normal">Now let us change the scene once more, for this must be a chapter of -changes. Stand upon this little hill with me, beside the great oak, -and let us look on, as day breaks over the fair scene below us. See -how beautifully the land slopes away there on the north, with the -wooded heights near Blangy, and the church steeple on the rise of the -hill, and the old castle hard by. How the light catches upon it, even -before the day is fully risen! Even that piece of marshy ground, -sloping gently up into a meadow, with a deep ditch cut here and there -across it, acquires something like beauty from the purple light of the -rising sun. There is a little coppice there to the westward, with a -wind-mill, somewhat like that at Creçy, waving its slow arms on the -gentle morning breeze. How peaceful it all looks; how calm. Can this -narrow space, this tranquil scene, be the spot on which the destiny of -a great kingdom is to be decided in an hour?</p> - -<p class="normal">So, perhaps, thought a man placed upon the hill near Blangy, as he -looked in the direction of Azincourt, one half of the steeple of which -could be seen rising over the slope. Soon, however, that quiet scene -became full of life. He saw a small body of some two hundred men run -rapidly along under cover of the coppice, bending their heads, with no -apparent arms, except what seemed an ax slung upon the shoulder of -each. They carried long slim wands in their hands, it is true; but to -the eye those wands were very unserviceable weapons. They reached the -edge of a ditch upon the meadow, and there they disappeared. A loud -flourish of martial music followed, and soon after, from behind the -wood, came on, in steady array, a small body of soldiery. They could -not have numbered more than one or two thousand men at the very most, -and little like soldiers did they look, except in the even firmness of -their line. There was no glittering steel to be seen. Casque and -corselet, spear and banner were not there. Not even the foot-soldier's -jack and morion could be descried among them; but, tattered, -travel-worn, and many of them bare-headed, they advanced, with heavy -tramp and steady countenance, in the same direction which had been -taken by the others. The same long wands were in their hands, and each -bore upon his shoulder a heavy, steel-pointed post, while a short -sword or ax hung upon the thigh, and a well-stored quiver was within -reach of the right hand. Before them rode a knight on horseback, with -a truncheon in his hand, and behind them still, as they marched on, -sounded the war-stirring trumpet.</p> - -<p class="normal">The face of the man who stood there and watched was very pale, either -with fear or some other emotion, and every now and then he approached -a tree to which three horses were tied--one of which was fully -caparisoned for war--examined the bridles, and saw that all was right, -as if he were anxious that every thing should be ready, either for -strife or flight. While he was thus employed, two other men came up, -slowly climbing the hill from the eastward; but there was nothing in -the appearance of either to give any alarm to him who was watching -there. The one was a round, short personage, with a countenance on -which nature had stamped cheerful good-humor, though his eyes had now -in them an expression of wild anxiety, which showed that he knew what -scene was about to be enacted below. The other was a tall, gaunt man, -far past the middle age, but his face betrayed no emotion. It was -still and pale as that of death, and changed not even after they had -reached a point where the whole array of the field was set out before -them. His brow, however, wore a heavy frown; but that expression -seemed habitual, and not produced by any transitory feeling. Both the -strangers were habited in the long, gray gown of the monk, with a -girdle of plain cord, and the string of beads attached; besides which, -the elder man carried in his hand a staff, and a large ebony crucifix.</p> - -<p class="normal">The moment their heads rose above the slope, so that they could see -over into the plain beyond, the younger and the stouter man stopped -suddenly, with a look of some alarm, as if the moving mass of soldiery -had been close to him. "Jesu Maria!" he exclaimed; "are those the -English, brother Albert? I did not know they were half to near."</p> - -<p class="normal">The other answered nothing, and his countenance changed not while his -eye ran over the whole country beneath him, with the calm, deliberate, -marking look of a man who had beheld such scenes before.</p> - -<p class="normal">Suddenly, on the right, over the tops of the trees, rose up a dense -cloud of smoke, which, rolling in large volumes into the air, became -tinged with a dark red hue, and speckled with sparks of fire.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is that? what is that?" cried the younger monk. "That must be -some place on fire at Aubain."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no," replied the other, speaking for the first time; "that is -much nearer. It is either at Teneur, or at the farm of our priory of -St. George. Can the English king have thrown out his right wing so far -in order to take our army on the flank? If so, one charge would ruin -him. But no; he is too wise for that. It must be a stratagem to -deceive the Constable."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, the first comer moved away from the horses and joined -them, saying, "God help us! this is a terrible scene, good fathers."</p> - -<p class="normal">The elder monk gazed at him with his motionless countenance, but -answered nothing; and the younger one replied, much in his own tone, -"A terrible scene, indeed, my son--a terrible scene, indeed! I know -not whether it be more so to stand as a mere spectator, and witness -such a sight as will soon be before us, or to mingle in the fray, and -lose part of its horrors by sharing in its fury."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I have no doubt which," answered the other. "My mind is quite -made up on that subject."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You may be a man of war," replied the other. "Indeed, these armed -horses seem to speak it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No. I am a man of peace," rejoined the first-comer. "Those horses are -my master's, not mine; and the fighting is his too. But he knows my -infirmity, and leaves me here out of arrow-shot. The boy who was with -me has run down the hill, to be nearer to our lord; but I, as in duty -bound, stay where he placed me. I should like very much to know, -however, what is the name of that farm-house and the two or three -cottages there, at the edge of the meadow, with the deep ditch across -it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is called Tramecourt," replied the younger monk. "It is but a -small hamlet; and I heard this morning that our riotous soldiers had -driven all the people out of it, and eaten up all their stores. Why do -you ask, my son?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Because I saw but now some two or three hundred men, coming from the -side of Blangy, run down by the willows there, and disappear in the -ditch."</p> - -<p class="normal">"God's retribution!" said the elder monk, gravely. "Had not the -soldiery driven out the peasantry, there would have been men to bear -the news of the ambush."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Think you it is an ambush, then?" asked the younger monk.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Beyond doubt," replied the other; "and he who would do a good service -to the army of France would mount yon horse, ride down toward -Azincourt, and carry the tidings to the constable."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, he fixed his eyes upon their lay companion, who seemed a -little uneasy under their gaze. He fidgeted, pulled the points of his -doublet, and then said, sturdily, "Well, I can not go. I must stay -with the horses."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Are you a coward?" asked the elder monk, in a low, bitter tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes," replied the man, nonchalantly. "I am a desperate coward--have -been so all my life. I have a reverent regard for my own skin, and no -fondness for carving that of other people. If men have a peculiar -fancy for poking holes in each other's bodies, I do not quarrel with -them for it. Indeed, I do not quarrel with any one for any thing; but -it is not my taste: it is not my trade. Why should I make eyelet-holes -in nature's jerkin, or have myself bored through and through, like a -piece of timber under an auger?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, my son, wilt thou let me have a horse, that I may ride down and -tell the constable?" asked the shorter of his two companions.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is hardly time," said the elder monk. "See, here comes a larger -body of archers from the side of Blangy, and I can catch lance heads -and banners rising up by Azincourt. The bloody work will soon begin."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I would fain try, at all events," cried the other. "Man, wilt thou -let me have a horse? I will bring him back to thee in half an hour, if -ever I come back alive myself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Take him, take him," answered the other. "I am not the man to stop -you. How could I resist two monks and three horses. Not the -destrier--not the battle-horse. That is my lord's. Here, take the -page's. Let me help thee on, father. Thou art so fat in the nether end -that thou wilt never get up without a ladder. One time I was as bad a -horseman as thyself, and so I have compassion on thy foibles. Have -thou some upon mine."</p> - -<p class="normal">The monk was soon settled in the saddle, and away he went down the -hill, showing himself a better horseman, when once mounted, than the -other had given him credit for.</p> - -<p class="normal">As soon as he was gone, the elder monk fixed his eyes once more upon -his companion, and said, in a low voice, "Have I not seen thee -somewhere before?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can't tell," answered the other. "I have seen you, I fancy; but if -so, you gave no sign of seeing me, either by word or look. However, I -am Martin Grille, the valet of the good Baron de Brecy. Perhaps that -may give your memory a step to climb upon."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It needs no step," answered the other. "I am all memory. Would to God -I were not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, now you look more as you did then, though not half so mad -either," said Martin Grille. "You are older, too, and your cowl makes -a difference."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And there is a difference," replied the monk, in a tone of deep -sadness. "Penitence and prayer, remorse and anguish--sated revenge, -perhaps--a thirst assuaged--a thirst such as no desert traveler ever -knew, quenched in blood and tears; all these have changed me. The fire -has gone out. I am nothing but the ashes of my former self."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Rather hot ashes, even yet," answered Martin Grille, "if I may judge -by what you said about my cowardice just now. But look, look, good -father. What will become of our fat brother there? Why he is riding -right before that strong body of lances coming up from Blangy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He does not see them," answered the other, gravely. "He may reach the -constable, even yet; for lo, now! there comes the power of France over -the hill; and England on to meet her. By the holy rood! they make a -gallant show, these great noblemen of France. Why, what a sea of -archery and men-at-arms is here, with plumes and banners, lance and -shield, and pennons numberless. I have seen many a stricken fight, and -never but at Poictiers saw fairer array than that."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, they will sweep the English from the face of the earth," said -Martin Grille. "If that be all King Henry's power, it is but a morsel -for the maw of such a monster as is coming down from Azincourt."</p> - -<p class="normal">The monk turned toward him, and shook his head. "You know not these -Englishmen," he said, with a sigh. "When brought to bay, they fight -like wolves. I have heard my father tell of Creçy; and at Poictiers I -was a page. On each field we outnumbered them as here, and at -Poictiers we might have had them on composition had it pleased the -king. But we forced them to fight, and fight they did, till the -multitude fled before a handful, and order and discipline did what -neither numbers nor courage could effect. Look you now, how skillfully -this English king has chosen his place of battle, unassailable on -either flank, showing a narrow front to his enemy, so as to render -numbers of no avail. God send that they may not prove destructive."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, he is too late!" replied Martin Grille who had been watching the -course of the other monk, who was riding straight toward the head of -the ditch, where he had seen the archers conceal themselves. "He is -too late, I fear."</p> - -<p class="normal">His exclamation was caused by sudden movements observable in both -armies. The English force had been advancing slowly in three bodies, -each looking but a handful as compared with the immense forces of -France, but in firm and close array, with little of that ornament and -decoration which gilds and smoothes the rugged reality of war; but -with many instruments of music playing martial airs, and seeming to -speak of hope and confidence.</p> - -<p class="normal">The French, on the other hand, who had lain quiet all the morning, as -if intending to wait the attack of the enemy, had just spread out upon -the slope in face of Azincourt, divided likewise into three vast -bodies, with their wings overlapping, on either side, the flank of the -English force. Splendid arms and glittering accoutrements made the -whole line shine and sparkle; but not a sound was heard from among -them, except now and then the shout of a commander. At the moment of -Martin Grille's exclamation, the advanced guard of the French had -assumed a quicker pace, and were pouring down upon the English -archery, as they marched up through a somewhat narrow space, inclosed -between low thick copse, hedges, and swampy ground. This narrow field -forked out gradually, becoming wider and wider toward the centre of -the French host; and the English had just reached what we may call the -mouth of the fork, with nearly fifteen thousand French men-at-arms, -and archers before them, under the command of the constable in person. -Slowly and steadily the Englishmen marched on, till within half -bow-shot of the French line, headed by old Sir Thomas of Erpingham, -who rode some twenty yards before the archery, with a page on either -side, and nothing but a baton in his hand. When near enough to render -every arrow certain of its mark, the old knight waved his truncheon in -the air, and instantly the whole body of foot halted short. At the -same moment, each man planted before him the spiked stake which he -carried in his hand, and laid an arrow on the string of his bow. A -dead silence prevailed along each line, unbroken except by the tramp -of the advancing French. Sir Thomas of Erpingham looked along the -line, from right to left, and then exclaimed, in a loud, powerful -voice, "Now strike!" throwing his truncheon high into the air, and -dismounting from his horse. Instantly, from the ditch on the left -flank of the French, rose up the concealed archers, with bows already -drawn; and well might Martin Grille exclaim that the monk was too -late. The next instant, from one end of the English line to the other, -ran the tremendous cheer which has so often been the herald of victory -over land and sea; and the next, a flight of arrows as thick as hail -poured right into the faces of the charging enemy. Knights and -squires, and men-at-arms bowed their heads to the saddle-bow to avoid -the shafts; but on they still rushed, each man directing his horse -straight against the narrow front of the English, and pressing closer -and closer together, so as to present one compact mass, upon which -each arrow told. Nor did that fatal flight cease for an instant. -Hardly was one shaft delivered before another was upon the string, -and, mad with pain, the horses of the French cavalry reared and -plunged among the crowd, creating as much destruction and disarray as -even the missiles of their foe.</p> - -<p class="normal">All then became a scene of strange confusion to the eyes of Martin -Grille. The two opposing forces seemed mingled together. The English, -he thought, were forced back, but their order seemed firmer than that -of the French line, where all was struggling and disarray. Here and -there a small space in one part of the field would become -comparatively clear, and then he would see a knight or squire dragged -from his horse, and an archer driving the point of his sword between -the bars of his helmet. The figure of the monk was no longer to be -discerned, for he had long been enveloped in the various masses of -light cavalry and camp-followers which whirled around the wings of the -French army--of little or no service in the battle to those whom they -Served, and only formidable to an enemy in case of his defeat.</p> - -<p class="normal">The monk, who stood beside Martin Grille, remained profoundly silent, -though his companion often turned his eye toward him with an inquiring -look, as if he would fain have asked, "How, think you, goes the -strife?" But, though no words were uttered, many were the emotions -which passed over his countenance. At first all was calm, although -there was a straining of the eye beneath the bent brow, like that of -the eagle gazing down from its rocky eyrie on the prey moving across -the plain below. Then came a glance of triumph, as some two or three -hundred of the French men-at-arms dashed on before their companions, -and hurled themselves upon the English line, in the vain effort to -break the firm array of the archery. But when he saw the troops -mingling together, and the heavy pressure of the French chivalry one -upon the other, each impeding his neighbor, and leaving no room for -any one but those in the front rank to strike a blow, his brow grew -dark, his eye anxious, and his lip quivered. For a moment more, he -continued silent; but then, when he saw the English arrows dropping -among the ranks of his countrymen, the horses rearing and falling with -their riders, to be trampled under the feet of those who pressed -around--some, maddened with pain, tearing through all that opposed -them, and carrying terror and confusion into the main body -behind--some urged by fearful riders at the full gallop from a field -which they fancied lost, because it was not instantly won, he could -bear no more, but exclaimed, sharply and sternly, "They will lose the -day!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But all that vast number coming down the hill have not yet struck a -stroke," cried Martin Grille.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where can they strike?" said the monk, sternly. "Were the field -cleared of their friends, they might yet do something with their foes. -See, the banner of Alençon is down, and where is that of Brabant? I -see it no more."</p> - -<p class="normal">He gazed for a moment more, and then exclaimed, "On my life! they are -flying--flying right into the centre of the main battle, to carry the -infection of their fear with them!"</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, two or three horsemen, in mad haste, galloped up the hill -directly toward them, and Martin Grille sprang to the side of the -horses, unfastened one of them, and put his foot in the stirrup.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Fool! they will not hurt thee," said the monk "'Tis their own lives -they seek to save;" and, stretching out his arms across the path by -which the men-at-arms were coming, he exclaimed, fiercely, -"Cowards--cowards! back to the battle for very shame!"</p> - -<p class="normal">But they galloped on past him, one with an arrow through his shoulder, -and one with the crest of his casque completely shorn off. The third -struck a blow with a mace at the monk as he passed, but it narrowly -missed him; and on he too rode, with a bitter curse upon his lips.</p> - -<p class="normal">By this time it was no longer doubtful which way the strife would go -between the advance-guard of the French and that of the English army. -The former was all in disarray, and parties scattering away from it -every instant, while the latter was advancing steadily, supported by a -large body of pikes and bill-men, who now appeared in steady order -from behind some of the tall trees of the wood. Just then, through the -bushes which lay scattered over the bottom of the slope, a group was -seen coming up the hill, so slowly that their progress could hardly be -called flight. At first neither Martin Grille nor the monk could -clearly perceive what they were doing, for the branches, covered with -thin, dry October leaves, partly intercepted the view. Soon, however, -they emerged upon more open ground, and three or four men on foot -appeared, closely surrounding a caparisoned horse, which one of them -led by the bridle, while another, walking by the stirrup, seemed to -have his arm around the waist of the rider. An instant after, a -mounted man in a gray gown appeared from among the bushes, paused by -the side of the little party, and was seen pointing upward toward the -hill.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Brother Albert and a wounded knight," said the monk, taking a step or -two forward.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good Lord! I hope it is not my young master," cried Martin Grille, -clasping his hands together. "Oh, if he would but stay at home and -keep quiet! I am sure his mother would bless the day."</p> - -<p class="normal">The monk hardly listened to him, for he was gazing with an eager and -anxious look upon the group below; then, suddenly turning to the -varlet, he asked, in a sharp, quick tone, "Has thy young lord any -children?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"None of his own," answered Martin Grille; "but one whom he has -adopted--a fairy little creature, as beautiful as a sunbeam, whom they -call Agnes. He could not love her better were she his own."</p> - -<p class="normal">"God will bless him yet," said the monk; and then added, sharply, "Why -stand you here? It is your lord; go down and help." And he himself -hurried down the slope to meet the advancing party.</p> - -<p class="normal">With his casque cleft open by an ax, an arrow through his right arm, a -spear-hole in his cuirass, and the blood dropping over his coat of -arms, Jean Charost, supported by one of his retainers, on whose -shoulder his head rested, was borne slowly up the hill. His face could -not be seen, for his visor was closed, but there was an expression of -deep sadness on the faces of the two or three men who surrounded him, -which showed that they thought the worst had befallen.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is he dead?" asked the old monk, looking at the man who led the -horse.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can't tell, father," replied the soldier, gruffly. "He has not -spoken since we got him out of the fray. Here is one who has done his -duty, however. Oh, if they had all fought as he did!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think he is not dead," said the other monk, riding up. "You see his -hand is still clasped upon the rein, and once, I thought, he tried to -raise his head."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Bear him on--bear him on behind the trees," cried the older man, "and -get the horses out of sight. He is not dead--his hand moves. How goes -it, my son? How goes it? Be of good cheer."</p> - -<p class="normal">A low groan was the only reply; but that was sign sufficient that life -was not extinct, and Jean Charost was carried gently forward to a spot -behind the trees, well concealed from the field of battle. The old -monk, before he followed, paused to take one more look at the bloody -plain of Azincourt. By this time, the main body of the French army was -in as great disorder as the advanced-guard, while the English forces -were making way steadily with the royal banner floating in the air.</p> - -<p class="normal">"All is lost," murmured the monk. "God help them! they have cast away -a great victory."</p> - -<p class="normal">When he reached the little spot to which Jean Charost had been -carried, the men were lifting him gently from his horse, and laying -him down on the dry autumnal grass. His casque was soon removed; but -his eyes were closed, and his breathing was slow and uneven. There was -a deep cut upon his head; but that which seemed robbing him of life -was the lance wound in his chest, and, with hurried hands, the two -monks unclasped the cuirass and back-piece, and applied themselves to -stanch the blood.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It has gone very near his heart," said the elder monk.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no," replied the other; "it is too far to the side. You -understand fighting better than I, Brother Albert, but I know more -surgery than you. Here, hold your hand firmly here, one of you men, -and give me up that scarf. Some one run down to the brook and get -water. Take his bassinet--take his bassinet. We must call him out of -this swoon before it is too late."</p> - -<p class="normal">Martin Grille seized up his master's casque, and impulsively ran away -toward the brook, which took its rise about two thirds of the way down -the hill. When he came in sight of the battle-field, however, he -stopped suddenly short, with all his old terrors rushing upon him; but -the next instant love for his young lord overcame all other -sensations, and he plunged desperately down the slope, and filled the -bassinet at the fountain.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Help me, Martin! help me!" said a voice near; and looking up, he saw -the young page, who had followed his lord down the hill.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here, boy, come along," cried Martin Grille. "What, are you hurt, you -young fool?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, sorely," replied the boy. "While trying to cover the baron, the -first time he was thrown from his horse, they hacked me with their -swords. But I shall never see him again; he is dead now."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Give me your hand--give me your hand," cried Martin Grille. "He is -not dead; so take good heart. But I must hurry back with this water; -so put forth what strength you have left."</p> - -<p class="normal">Dragging the page along with one hand, and holding the bassinet in the -other, Martin contrived to climb the hill again, and reach the spot -where De Brecy lay. The younger monk immediately took a handful of the -water, and dashed it in the wounded man's face. A shudder passed over -him, and then he opened his eyes and looked faintly round.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now some drops of this sovereign balsam," said the younger monk, -taking a vial from his pocket. "Open your lips, my son, and let me -drop it in."</p> - -<p class="normal">He had to repeat his words before the wounded man comprehended them; -but when the drops had been administered, a great change took place -very rapidly. The light came back into Jean Charost's eyes, and he -said, though faintly, "Where am I? Who has won?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"How goes it, my son--how goes it?" asked the elder monk, bending over -him, with his cowl thrown back.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But feebly, father," answered Jean Charost. "Hah! is that you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Even so," answered the monk. "But cheer up; you shall not die. We -will take you to our priory of St. George of Hesdin, and soon give -you health again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Alas!" said Jean Charost, raising his hand feebly, and letting it -drop again, "I have no strength to move. But how goes the battle? If -France have lost, let me lie here and die."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We can not tell," answered the younger monk. "The battle still rages -fiercely. Here, hold this crucifix in your hand, and let me examine -the wound. 'Tis not bleeding so fast," he continued. "Take some more -of these drops; they will give you strength again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, Perot; poor boy!" said Jean Charost, suffering his eyes to glance -feebly round till they rested upon the page, who was leaning against a -tree. "Attend to him, good father. He must be wounded sorely. He saved -my life when first I was dashed down by that blow upon my head."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Take this first yourself," rejoined the monk, "or the master will go -where the page will not like to follow."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost made no resistance; and the monk then turned to the young -boy, examined and bound up his wounds, and administered to him -likewise some of the elixir in which he seemed to put so much faith. -Nor did it seem undeserving of his good opinion; for again the effect -upon Jean Charost was very great, and he said, in a stronger voice, -"Methinks I shall live."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Can we not contrive to make some litter?" said the elder monk, -looking to the men who had aided their young lord up the hill.</p> - -<p class="normal">"We will try," said one of them; and taking an ax which hung upon his -shoulder, he began to cut down some of the sapling trees. Ere the -materials were collected, however, to make a litter, there came a -sound of horses feet going at a slow trot, and an instant after a -small party of horse appeared.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha! who have we here?" cried the man at their head. "A French knight, -wounded! God save you, sir. I trust you will do well; but you must -surrender, rescue or no rescue, and give your faith thereon."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, he dismounted and approached the little group, holding -out his hand to Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is no help for it," answered the wounded man, giving him his -hand. "Rescue or no rescue, I do surrender."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your name is the next thing," replied the English officer.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Jean Charost, Baron de Brecy," replied the young man. "I pray you -tell me how goes the battle?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is over, sir," answered the Englishman. "God has been pleased to -bless our arms. Your men will surrender, of course."</p> - -<p class="normal">With them, too, there was no help for it, as there were some twenty or -thirty spears around the them; and when they had given their pledge, -the officer, an elderly man, turned again to Jean Charost, saying, in -a kindly tone, "You are badly hurt, sir, and I am sure have done your -<i>devoir</i>; right knightly for your king and country. I can not stay to -tend you; but these good fathers will have gentle care of you, I am -sure. When you are well, inquire for the Lord Willoughby. You will not -find him hard to deal with. The parole of a gentleman with such wounds -as these is worth prison bars of three inch thickness;" and thus -saying, he remounted his horse and rode away.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">A few brief glimpses, if you please, dear reader--quiet, and -calm, and -cool, like the early sunshine of a clear autumn day--a few brief -glimpses, to throw some light upon a lapse of several years.</p> - -<p class="normal">It may be asked why are not the events of those years recorded? Why -are we not carried through the details of a history in which the -writer, at least, must have some interest? In every life, as in every -country which one passes through, there come spots of dull monotony, -where the waters stagnate on the heavy flats, and to linger among them -is dangerous to active existence. I say, in every life there are these -flats at some period or another; for I can recall none in memory or in -history, where they have not been found--none where all has been -mountain and valley.</p> - -<p class="normal">Take the most active life that ever was, that of Napoleon Bonaparte; -carry him from the military school to the command of armies; go with -him along his comet-like career, from glory to glory up to the zenith -of his power, and then on his course down to the horizon with fierce -rapidity. You come to the rock in the Atlantic, and the dull lapse of -impotence and captivity at last!</p> - -<p class="normal">In a cell, in the small priory of St. George of Hesdin, and on the -pallet bed of one of the monks, lay a young gentleman pale and wan, -but still with the light of reviving life in his eyes. By his side was -seated a tall, thin old man, or if not very old in years, old in the -experience of sorrows.</p> - -<p class="normal">'Tis a strange thing, this life, and all connected with it--time, and -joy, and grief, and fear, and hope, and appetite, and satiety! Very, -very strange! The wise Eastern people have said that at the root of -the Tree of Life lie two worms continually preying on it: the one -black, the other white. But alas, alas! there is many another maggot, -piercing the bark, eating into the core, drying up the sap, bringing -on decay and instruction. I have named a few of them.</p> - -<p class="normal">One of the most blessed conceptions of the soul is, that in its -immortality none of these things can touch it.</p> - -<p class="normal">He seemed an old man, though probably he had not yet seen near sixty -years of age; but there were upon his face many harsh lines--not such -as are drawn by hard carking cares and petty anxieties--not such as -are imprinted on the face by the claws of grasping, mercenary -selfishness; but the deep strong brands of burning passions, fierce -griefs, fierce joys, and strong unruly thoughts. Yet the eye was -subdued. There was not the light in it that had once been there--the -wild, eager light, too intense to be fully sane. There was sadness -enough, but little fire.</p> - -<p class="normal">It would seem that the two--they were the only tenants of the -cell--had been talking for some time, and that one of those pauses had -taken place in which each man continues for himself the train of -thought suggested by what has gone before. The old man looked down -upon the ground, with his shaggy eyebrows overhanging his eyes. The -young man looked up, as if catching inspiration from above. It was -Hope and Memory. At length the old man spoke.</p> - -<p class="normal">"When one looks back," he said, "upon the path of life, we lose in the -mistiness of the distance a thousand objects which have influenced its -course. We see it turn hither and thither, and wonder that we took not -a course more direct to our end. We perceive that we have gone far out -of the way; but the obstacles are not seen that were, or seemed -insurmountable--the stream, too deep to be forded--the rock, too high -to be scaled--the thicket, too dense to be penetrated; and the mists -and darkness too--the mists and darkness of the mind, forever blinding -us to the right way. Oh, my son, my son, beware of the eyesight of -passion; for you know not how false and distorting it is. The things -as plain as day become all dim and obscure, false lights glare around -us, and nothing is real but our own sensations."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost smiled. "I have escaped as yet, father," he said. "It is -true, indeed, that when I look back on some passages of my life--on -the actions of other men, and on my own--I sometimes wonder how I -could view the things around me as I did at the time, and all seems to -me as if I had been acting in a dream."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Passion, passion," said the monk--"the dream of passion!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Happily, I have had no cause to regret that I did not see more -clearly," replied Jean Charost; "but let me turn to other matters, -good father. There are many things that I would wish to ask you--many -that are necessary for me to know."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ask me nothing," replied the monk, quickly; then laying his hand upon -Jean Charost's arm, he said, in a low, stern voice, "There is a space -in memory on which I dare not tread. By struggle and by labor I have -reached firm ground, and can stand upon the rock of my salvation; but -behind me there is a gulf of madness--You would not drag me back into -it, young man?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"God forbid," replied Jean Charost. "But yet--"</p> - -<p class="normal">The monk waved his hand; and an instant after, the door of the cell -opened, and Martin Grille appeared, booted and spurred, with his dress -covered with dust, and every sign about him of long riding over -parched and sandy roads.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well Martin," exclaimed the young man, as soon as he saw him, "what -says the Lord Willoughby?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But little, and not pleasant," replied Martin Grille. "However, he -has written. Here is his letter."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost took the paper which the man held out to him, and tore it -open eagerly; but his face turned pale as he read, and he exclaimed, -"Fifteen thousand crowns for a baron's ransom! This is ruin."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think he can not help himself," said Martin Grille; "for he seemed -very much vexed when he wrote. Indeed, he told me that the ransoms had -been fixed by higher power."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, ay! A mere excuse," exclaimed Jean Charost. "This greedy -Englishman is resolved to make the most of the capture of a wounded -man."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Passion, my son, passion!" said the monk. "What the good lord says is -true, I do believe. 'Tis the ambition and policy of his master, not -his own greed. I have heard something of this, and feared the result. -King Henry is resolved that all those who might serve France best -against him should either pay the expenses of his next campaign by -their ransoms, or linger out their time in English prisons, while he -goes forth to conquer France."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Shame be upon him," cried Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Wouldst thou not do the same wert thou the King of England?" asked -the monk.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost mused for several minutes. "Then there is naught for me -but a prison," he said, at length. "I will not impoverish my poor -mother, nor my sweet little Agnes. It has cost enough to furnish me -forth for this fatal battle. Oh, that Frenchmen had coolness as well -as courage, discipline as well as activity! Oh, that they had won the -day: I would not have treated my prisoners so. Well, God's will be -done--I will cross the seas, and give myself up to captivity. Let me -have things for writing, Martin Grille."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, my son, you are not fit," said the monk.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It must be done," answered Jean Charost. "What matters it to any one -if I die? He can not coin my clay into golden pieces. I will not pay -this ransom so long as my mother lives. Let me have ink and paper."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost wrote; but he was soon obliged to abandon the task, for -he was still too feeble. The next day he wrote again, however, and two -letters were accomplished. The one was sent off to his mother, the -other to the Lord Willoughby. To the latter he received an answer -courteous and kind, desiring him not to hurry his departure for -England, but to wait till he was well able to bear the journey. There -was one sentence somewhat confused in expression, intended to convey a -regret that the ransom fixed upon prisoners of his rank was so high; -but Jean Charost was irritated, and threw the letter from him.</p> - -<p class="normal">The other letter conjured his mother to his side with all speed, and -she brought his little Agnes with her; for she had a notion that the -presence of the child would be balmy to him.</p> - -<p class="normal">Let us pass over her remonstrances, and how she urged him to sell all -and pay his ransom. For her sake, he was firm. He would not impoverish -his mother; and though there were bitter tears, he departed from his -native land. Now let us change the scene. Between three and four years -had passed since the field of Azincourt had received some of the best -blood of France, and thinned the ranks of French chivalry. Every city, -every village, almost every family was full of trouble, and the place -that was at one day in the hands of England was another day in the -hands of France, and a third in the hands of Burgundy. All regular -warfare might be said to have come to an end. Each powerful noble made -war on his own hand, and linked himself by very slender ties to this -faction or that. His enterprises were his own, though they were -directed, in some degree, to the benefit of his party; but if he owned -in any one a right to command him, it was only with the reservation -that he should obey or not as he pleased. Armed bands traversed the -country in every direction. Hardly a field between the Loire and the -Somme was not at some time a scene of strife. None knew, when they -sowed the ground, who would reap the harvest; and the goods of the -merchant were as often exposed to pillage as the crop of the -husbandman.</p> - -<p class="normal">Yet it is extraordinary how soon the mind of man, and especially the -gay, volatile mind of the Frenchman, accommodates itself to -circumstances. Here was a state almost intolerable, it would seem, to -any but savages; but yet, in France, the skillful cook plied his busy -trade, and the reeking kitchen sent up fragrant fumes. The <i>auberge</i>, -the <i>cabaret</i>, the <i>gite</i>, the <i>repue</i>, all the places of public, -entertainment, in short, were constantly filled with gay guests. The -tailor's needle was never more employed, and as much ornament as ever -was bestowed upon fair forms which might be destined a few days after -to meet with a bloody death. The village bells called people to prayer -and praise as usual, and rang out merrily for the wedding, even when -hostile spears were within sight of the steeple.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such was the state of the country, when, one day in the latter part of -the summer of one thousand four hundred and nineteen, a young man, -dressed in the garb of a monk, entered a small town near the city of -Bourges. His feet were sandaled; he carried the pilgrim staff in his -hand, and he was evidently wayworn and fatigued. The greater part of -the peasantry were in the fields; and the street of the little place, -running up the side of a small hill, lay almost solitary in the bright -sunshine. The master of the <i>gite</i>, or small inn, however, was sitting -at his own door, with an ancient companion, feeble and white-bearded, -and they made some comments to one another upon the young stranger as -he approached, which were not very favorable to monks in general.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, he is going to the Gray Friar's monastery, doubtless," said the -host to his companion, "and doubtless they fare well there. He will -have a jovial night of it after his journey, especially as this is -Thursday."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, that's the time they always appoint for the women to come to -confess," said the other; "and I dare say they talk over all the sins -they hear pleasantly enough. See, he seems tending this way."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not he," replied the landlord; "we have but little custom from the -brethren, though they can pay well when they will. Upon my life, I -believe he is coming hither; but perhaps 'tis but to ask his way."</p> - -<p class="normal">The stranger, however, did walk straight up to mine host of the inn, -and instead of asking his way, inquired whether he could lodge there -for the night.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Assuredly, good father," replied the landlord, in a very altered -tone; "this is a public <i>gite</i>, though the prices are rather higher -than they used to be, because the country has been so run down."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That matters not," answered the stranger; "when can I sup?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"In an hour, father, supper will be on the table." answered the host. -"Would you like to go and wash your feet; they are mighty dusty?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not yet," replied the stranger; "if I knew where to place my wallet -in safety, I would go on a little further to see the sun setting from -the hill."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come with me--come with me," said the host; "I will show you your -chamber, where you will have as good a bed as a baron could wish for, -and a room, not much bigger than a cell, it is true; but you will not -mind that, for it is fresh and airy, and, moreover, it has a lock and -key, which is more than many rooms have."</p> - -<p class="normal">The stranger followed in silence, was admitted to his room, and laid -down the wallet. Then, taking the key--almost as big as that of a -church door of modern times--he issued forth from the inn again, and, -saying he would be back soon, he walked on to the other end of the -street, where it opened out through a low mud wall upon the brow of -the hill upon which the town was built.</p> - -<p class="normal">When clear of all houses, with his foot upon the green turf, and the -rocky descent below him, the young stranger crossed his arms upon his -chest, and stood gazing upon the scene around with more of the air of -a warrior than of a monk. He held his head high, and seemed to expand -his chest to receive fully the evening breeze, looking like a fine -horse when first turned forth from a close stable, snuffing the free -air before he takes his wild, headlong career around the meadow. But -the expression soon changed. Casting his eyes to the eastward, he just -caught sight, from behind the shoulder of the hill, of the towers and -battlements of Bourges; and a little further on, but more to the -north, on the other side of the river, he perceived a wooded hill, -with a large, square tower and some other buildings, crowning the -summit. A look of deep melancholy came upon his countenance. After -gazing for several minutes, he turned his eyes toward the ground, and -fell into a deep fit of thought, as if debating some important -question with himself. "It will be a painful pleasure," said he, at -length; "but I will go, let it cost what it may."</p> - -<p class="normal">Once more he gazed over the prospect all round, and then turning on -his steps, he retraced his way back to the inn, where he found the -landlord still seated at the door.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Can you tell me," he said, "if Messire Jacques Cœur is now in -Bourges?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, that he is not, sir," answered the landlord, with great respect, -dropping the title of father, which he had previously bestowed upon -his guest, in favor of the gray gown; "he is away somewhere about -Monterreau with his highness the dauphin."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is unlucky," said the other, just remarking, and no more, the -landlord's change of manner toward him, and the substitution of the -words sir and father.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, I will sup, and go on upon my way."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Had you not better sleep here, sir?" asked the landlord, again -avoiding the word father; "perhaps they are not prepared for you, and -you must have traveled far, I suppose."</p> - -<p class="normal">The other held to his resolution, however, with out taking any outward -notice of the great alteration in the man's demeanor; but when he -retired to his chamber to wash his feet before supper, he found -confirmation of a suspicion that the vaunted lock of his door had more -keys than one. Nothing was abstracted, indeed, from his wallet; but -the contents had been evidently examined carefully since he left the -house. Small as was the amount of baggage it contained, there were -several articles which bore the name of "Jean Charost de Brecy."</p> - -<p class="normal">Night had fallen by the time that supper was over, and the stars shone -out bright and clear when the young wanderer once more resumed his -journey, and took his way direct toward the castle he had seen upon -the hill. Onward he went at an unflagging pace, descended from the -higher ground into the valley, crossed the little river by its stone -bridge, and approached the foot of the eminence where the tower stood. -Large dogs bayed loudly as he came near the entrance of the castle, -and one or two men were seated under the arch of the barbican; but -Jean Charost's impatience had been growing with every step, and, -without pausing to put any questions or to ask permission, he passed -the draw-bridge, crossed the little court, and mounted the steps -leading into the great hall. One of the men had followed him from the -barbican, but did not attempt to stop him. Two of the dogs ran by his -side, looking up in his face, and a third gamboled wildly before him, -whining with a sort of anxious joy. The great hall was quite dark; but -he found his way across it easily enough, mounted a little flight of -five steps, and opened the door just above. There were lights in that -room, and Madame De Brecy was there seated embroidering: while little -Agnes, now greatly expanded both in form and beauty, sat beside his -mother, sorting the various colored silks. His feet were shod with -sandals; but his mother knew the tread. She started up and gazed at -him. The instant after, her arms were round his neck, and Agnes was -clinging to his hand and covering it with kisses.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Welcome--welcome home, my son!" cried Madame De Brecy; "has this hard -lord then relented? We heard that you were ill--very ill; and ere -three days more had passed, Agnes and I would have set off to join you -in England. We waited but for safe-conducts to depart."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have been ill, dear mother," replied the young man; "and that -obtained me leave to return for a time. But do not deceive yourself; I -have not come back to stay. Indeed, so brief must be my absence from -my prison, so hopeless is the errand on which I came, that I had -doubts whether I ought to pause even here to give you the pang of -parting with me again. I have only obtained leave upon parole, to -absent myself from London for three months, in order to seek a ransom. -My only hope is in Jacques Cœur; he, perhaps, may help us on easier -terms than any one else will consent to. I find, however, that he is -not in Bourges, and I must go on to-morrow to Monterreau to seek him; -for well-nigh three weeks of my time is already expired; 'tis a long -journey from England hither on foot."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, my poor son!" cried Madame De Brecy; "our fate has been a sad -one, indeed. But yet, why should we complain? We share but the unhappy -fate of France, and, Heaven knows, she has deserved chastisement, were -it for nothing else but the bloody and unchristian feuds which have -brought this evil upon her."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let us hope yet, mother--let us hope yet," said Jean Charost. "The -very feeling of being once more at home--in this dear home, where so -many sunny days have passed--rekindles the nearly extinguished fire, -and makes me hope again, in despite of probability."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But why did you come on foot, dear Jean?" cried Agnes, clinging to -him. "It was not for want of money, was it? Oh, I would gladly have -sold all those pretty things you gave me long ago, to have bought a -horse for you, though our dear mother says we must save every thing we -can in order to pay your ransom."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, dear child, no," replied Jean Charost. "There were other reasons -for my coming on foot. I could not come with my lance in my hand, and -my pennon and my band behind me; and for a solitary traveler, well -dressed, and mounted on a good horse, it is dangerous to cross the -country between Harfleur and Bourges. But it is vain to think of -saving my ransom. My only hope is to get it diminished, and then to -obtain the means of paying it--both through Jacques Cœur."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Diminished!" said Madame De Brecy, eagerly. "Is there a chance of -that?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Her son explained to her that a conference had already taken place -between the dauphin and the Duke of Burgundy, with a view to arrange -the terms of peace. "Jacques Cœur," he said, "has great influence -with our own royal prince, and I believe that I myself stand not ill -with his highness of Burgundy, although, Heaven knows, I have never -sought his favor. If the dauphin will condescend--as perhaps he -ought--to make the liberation, upon moderate ransom, of several -gentlemen taken at Azincourt a stipulation in the treaty, I think I -have a fair claim to be among them. There is another interview, I -find, to take place in a few days, and I must not miss the -opportunity. I bear his highness letters from his cousin the young -Duke of Orleans, and several other gentlemen of high repute. Let us -hope then, my mother, at least till hope proves vain. Here will I rest -to-night, and speed onward again to-morrow. Perhaps I may lose my -labor, and have to travel back--to England and to captivity."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then we will go with you, Jean," said Madame De Brecy. "You shall -stay no more alone in a prison."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, yes, let us go with you," cried Agnes, eagerly, drowning Jean -Charost's reply. "We can all be as happy there as here. It is not the -walls, or the earth, that make a cheerful home. It is the spirits that -are in it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thou art a young philosopher." said Jean Charost, with a smile; "but -we will see."</p> - -<p class="normal">The next morning Jean Charost was upon his way toward Monterreau, -still dressed in his monkish garb--for the proverb proved true in his -case--but now mounted on an old mule, the very beast that had carried -the Duke of Orleans on the night of his assassination. It had been -given to him by the duchess when last he saw her, and when she felt -the hand of death pressing heavily upon her.</p> - -<p class="normal">The journey was too much for one day--twenty-three leagues, as they -counted them in those days, when leagues were leagues, and they had -kings in France--but Jean Charost resolved to push on as fast as -possible; and by night of the second day he had reached the small town -of Moret, whence a short morning's ride would bring him to Monterreau.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was dark when he arrived; but the small village was full of armed -men, and round the doors of many of the houses were assembled gay -groups, some seated on the ground, some on benches, some on empty -barrels, laughing, drinking, and singing, with all the careless -merriment of soldiery in an hour of peace. Lights burned in the -windows; lanterns, and sometimes torches, were out at the doors, and -the yellow harvest moon was rolling along the sky, and shedding from -her golden chariot-wheels a glorious flood of light.</p> - -<p class="normal">Doubtless there was a good deal of ribaldry in the words--doubtless -there was a good deal of licentiousness in the hearts of those around; -but yet there was a joyous exuberance of life--a careless, happy, -thoughtless confidence--an infectious merriment, that was difficult to -resist. The ringing laughter, the light song, the gay jest, the -cheerful faces, all seemed to ask Jean Charost, as he passed along, -"Why should you take thought for the morrow, when you can never tell -that a morrow will be yours? Why should you have care for the future, -when the future is disposed of by hands you can not see? Rejoice! -rejoice in the present day! Eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow -you die."</p> - -<p class="normal">Many a jest assailed the friar and his mule as they passed along; but -Jean Charost was in no mood to suffer a jest to annoy him. His hopes -had increased as he came near the spot where they were to be fulfilled -or extinguished, and the scene around him was certainly not calculated -to bid them depart too soon.</p> - -<p class="normal">At the door of a small inn, he stopped, and asked if he could find -entertainment; but the landlord rolled out a fat laugh, and told him, -No, not if he could make himself as small as the constable's dwarf. -"We are all as full here," he said, "as we can hold, and running over, -with the dauphin's men-at-arms. I doubt whether you will find a -quarter of a bed in the whole place. At the great <i>gite</i>; there--that -place which looks so dull and melancholy--you will have a better -chance than any where else; for Maître Langrin has raised his prices -above the tax, because he expects the lords and commanders to stay -there; but I don't think they will prefer his bad wine to my good, and -pay more for it." Thither, however, Jean Charost turned his mule; but -here the answer was much the same as before, combined with the saucy -intimation that they did not want any monks at that house; and the -young gentleman was turning away, thinking, with some anxiety, how he -could feed and stable his beast, when he saw a man, dressed apparently -as a superior officer, examining somewhat closely the mule, which he -had left tied to the tall post before the inn. He was not fully armed, -although he had a haubergeon on; and his head was only covered with a -plumed cap. Though tall and well formed, he stooped a little; and as -he drew back a step or two when the young gentleman approached to -mount, he seemed to move with some difficulty, and limped as he -walked.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost put his foot into the stirrup, mounted, and was about to -ride away, when the stranger called to him, somewhat roughly, saying, -"Where got you that mule, monk?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was a gift," replied Jean Charost, in a quiet tone, turning his -face full toward the speaker.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A gift--not from a palmer to a convent," cried the other, "but from a -lady to a soldier!" and in a moment after his arms were thrown round -Jean Charost, while he exclaimed, with a laugh, "Why, don't you know -me, De Brecy? I am not so much metamorphosed as you, in all your -monkery. In Heaven's name, what are you doing in this garb, and in -this place? Where do you come from? What are you doing? Some said you -were killed at Azincourt. One man swore to me he saw you die. Another -told me you were a prisoner in England; and I have always supposed the -latter was the case, for I have found in my own case how difficult it -is to get killed. They have nearly chopped me to mincemeat, but here I -am--what is left of me, that is to say."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young gentleman gave his old companion all the information he -desired; telling him, moreover, not without some hopes of assistance, -the difficulties under which he just then labored.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, come with me, come with me," said Juvenel de Royans. "I am -captain of a company of horse archers, and every one bows down in -reverence to me here. You shall have half of my room, if they will -give you none other;" and, leading him back into the inn, he called -loudly for the host.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here, Master Langrin," he exclaimed, when the uncivil functionary -whom Jean Charost had before seen made his appearance again, "this -gentleman is a friend of mine. He must have accommodation--there, I -know what you would say. You must make it, if you have not got it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I took the gentleman for a monk, sir," said the host, with all -humility.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A monk!" cried De Royans. "The gown does not make the monk. Where -were your eyes? I will answer for it, he has got a steel coat on under -that gown. But he must have some rooms, at all events."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There are none empty but those reserved for Madame De Giac," replied -the landlord; "and all the men are obliged to sleep four or five in a -bed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, put him in Madame De Giac's rooms," cried De Royans, with a -laugh. "I dare say neither party will object to the arrangement. At -all events, you must find him some place; I insist upon it. I will -quarter all my archers upon you, if you don't; eat out all you have -got in the house, and drink up all your wine. Take ten minutes to -consider of it, and then come and tell me, in the den where you have -put me. Bid some of my people look to Monsieur De Brecy's mule, and -look to it well; for, before it carried him, it carried as noble a -prince as France has seen, or ever will see. Come, old friend, I will -show you the way."</p> - -<p class="normal">When Jean Charost was seated in the room of Juvenel de Royans, a lamp -lighted, and his companion stretched out at ease, partly on his bed -and partly on a settle, the latter assumed a graver tone, and De Brecy -perceived with pain that he was both depressed in mind and sadly -shattered in body. Twelve years of almost incessant campaigning had -broken down his strength, and many wounds received had left him a -suffering and enfeebled man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"God help me!" he said. "I try to bear up well, De Brecy, and can not -make up my mind to quit the old trade. I must die in harness, I -suppose; but I believe what I ought to do would be to betake me to my -castle by the Garonne, adopt my sister's son--her husband fell at -Azincourt--and feed upon bouillons and Medoc wine for the rest of my -life. I am never without some ache. But now tell me what are your -plans; for, as I am constantly on the spot, I can give you a map of -the whole country."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost explained to him frankly his precise situation, and De -Royans thought over it for some time in silence.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You must make powerful friends," he said, at length. "Don't you know -Madame De Giac? Every one knows that, on that fatal night, you were -sent to her by the duke our lord, and, if so, she must be under some -obligations to you for your discretion."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have remarked, De Royans," replied the other, "that ladies -generally hate those who have the power to be discreet."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That could be soon seen," said De Royans. "We can test it readily."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I see no use," replied De Brecy. "She is the avowed mistress of the -Duke of Burgundy, and of him I am going to ask no favor."</p> - -<p class="normal">"She may be his avowed mistress, and no less a dear friend of his -highness the dauphin," answered De Royans. "She was the duke's avowed -mistress, and no less a dear friend of his highness of Orleans."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost gave a shudder. "Heaven forgive me," he said, "if I lack -charity. But there is a dark suspicion in my mind, De Royans, which -would make me sooner seek a boon of the devil than of that woman."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha!" said De Royans, raising himself partly from the bed. "If I -thought that--but no matter, no matter. We will talk of her no more."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What does she here?" asked Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will tell you all about it," replied the other. "A conference took -place some time ago in regard to the general pacification of the -kingdom. The Duke of Burgundy promised great things, which he has -never performed, nor ever will; and his highness the dauphin has -summoned him to another conference here at Monterreau, hard by. The -duke has hesitated for more than a month. Sometimes he would come, -sometimes he would not. Often urged that the dauphin himself should -come to Troyes, where he lay with his forces, and with the poor king -and queen. The dauphin said nay, but promised all security if he would -come hither. John-without-Fear has shown himself John-with-great-Fear, -however, well considering that there are twenty thousand men with his -prince in and around Monterreau. Nothing would serve him but he must -have the castle given up to him for security; and, accordingly, I and -my men, who kept it for his highness the dauphin, were turned out, to -make way for--who do you think?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, I can not tell," replied Jean Charost. "Perhaps James de la -Ligne, master of the crossbow men, who I hear is with the duke."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nothing of the kind," answered De Royans. "For good Madame De Giac, -her household and servants--not an armed man among them. She arrives -here to-night; goes on early to-morrow; and the duke himself, they -say, will arrive in the afternoon. He came as far as Bray sur Seine -five or six days ago; but there he stopped and hesitated once more; -and one can not tell whether he will come after all or not. If he does -he will come well accompanied; for it is clear that his heart fails -him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is there any reason for his fear, except that general doubt of all -men which the wicked have from the pictures in their own heart?" asked -Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">Juvenel de Royans raised himself completely, and sat upon the edge of -the bed, bending slightly forward, and speaking in a lower tone. "I -can not tell," he said, slowly and thoughtfully; "but there is a -general feeling abroad--no one can tell why--that if to-morrow's -interview does take place something extraordinary will happen. It is -all vague and confused--no one knows what he expects, but every one -expects something. We have no orders for extraordinary preparation. -The side of the castle next to the fields is to be left quite free and -open for the duke and his people to come and go at their pleasure, and -every thing seems to indicate that his highness meditates nothing but -peaceful conference. Yet I know that, as soon as I hear the duke is in -the Castle of Monterreau, I will have every man in the saddle, and -every horse out of the stable, in order to act as may be needed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But you must have some reasons for such apprehensions," said Jean -Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"None--none, upon my word," replied Juvenel de Royans. "The only way I -can account for the general feeling is, that every man of our faction -knows that John of Burgundy is an enemy to France; that his ambition -is the great obstacle to the union of all Frenchmen against our -English adversaries; and that it would be good for the whole country -if he were dead or in prison. Perhaps what every one wishes, every one -thinks may happen. But now, De Brecy, once more to your own affairs. -Your plan is a good one. His highness, in consenting to any peace, -ought to stipulate for the liberation of his friends upon a moderate -ransom--and yours is certainly unreasonable. But how to get at him is -the question, in order to insure that your name may be among those -stipulated. You will not use Madame De Giac."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, but I have two means of access," answered Jean Charost. "I have -a letter for his highness from the young Duke of Orleans, my -fellow-prisoner; and I hear that my good friend Jacques Cœur has -very great influence with the royal prince."</p> - -<p class="normal">Juvenel de Royans mused before he answered. "The letter may not do -what you want," he said, at length; "for you must see the prince -before this interview takes place; and when you present the letter, a -long-distant day may be appointed for your audience. Jacques Cœur -can doubtless procure your admission at once, if he be in Monterreau. -He was there, certainly, three days ago, and supplied his highness -liberally, they say, to his great joy; for he was well-nigh penniless. -But the rumor ran that he was to depart for Italy yesterday."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then the case is hopeless," said Jean Charost, with a sigh.</p> - -<p class="normal">A silence of some minutes succeeded; but then De Royans looked up with -a smile. "Not hopeless," he said, "not hopeless. I have just thought -of a way more sure than any other. First, I will give you a letter to -my friend and cousin Tanneguy du Châtel, who is high in the dauphin's -confidence. There, however, you might be put off; but there is another -means in your own hand. Do you remember Mademoiselle De St. Geran--the -beautiful Agnes--people used to think that you were in love with her, -and she with you, though she was but a girl, and you little more than -a boy in those days."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I remember her well," replied Jean Charost, "and have a high regard -for her."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So has the dauphin," answered Juvenel de Royans, with a meaning -smile.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You do not mean to say," cried Jean Charost; but his companion -interrupted him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I mean to say nothing," replied De Royans "In fact, men know nothing -but what I have said. It is clear his highness has a great regard for -her, reverences her advice, follows it, even in affairs of war and -policy; and, were it not that his wife reverences and loves her just -as much, there would be no doubt of the matter; for her exquisite -beauty--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I never thought her very beautiful," said Jean Charost. "Her form was -fine, and her face pretty; but that is all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, but there has been a change," answered De Royans. "She is the -same, and yet another. It is impossible to describe how beautiful she -has grown. Every line in her face has become fine and delicate. The -colors have grown clear and pure; the roses blossom in her cheek; the -morning star is sparkling in her eyes; warm as the summer, yet dewy as -the daybreak. But that is not all. There is an inconceivable grace in -her movements, unlike any thing I ever saw. Her quickest gesture is so -easy that it seems slow, and her lightest change of attitude brings -out some new perfection in her symmetry; and through the whole there -seems a soul, a spirit shining like a light upon every thing around. -Why, the old Bishop of Longres himself said, the other day, that, from -the parting of her hair to the sole of her foot, she was all beauty. -The good man, indeed, said he did not know whether it was the beauty -of holiness; but he hoped so."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, you seem in love with her yourself, De Royans," answered Jean -Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Go and see--go and see," replied his companion. "She will greet you -right willingly; for she is mild and humble, and ever glad to welcome -an old acquaintance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But where can I find her?" asked Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, you will find her at the Strangers' Lodging at the abbey," -answered De Royans. "The dauphin has his head-quarters there, with the -dauphiness and two or three of her ladies. Were I you, I would go to -her the first; for her influence is certain, however it comes. But you -must change your monk's garb, man; for, though they lodge at the -abbey, the court is not very fond of the friars. Ah, here comes our -landlord. Now, Monsieur Langrin, what has made you so long?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The arrival of Madame De Giac, sir," answered the host. "I can but -give the gentleman a mere closet to sleep in, which I destined for -another; but of course, as your friend, he must have it; and as for -supper, it is on the table, with good wine to boot."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Towns have their varying expressions as well as human faces; -and the -aspect of Monterreau, on the tenth of September, one thousand four -hundred and nineteen, presented a curious appearance, but one which -those who have lived long on the face of the earth must sometimes have -seen in moments of great excitement and expectation. The city looked -gay, for it was filled with people; and the splendor-loving soldiery, -in their arms, seen in every direction, gave a brilliancy to the -streets which in ordinary times they did not possess. The day was -bright and beautiful, too; one of those clear, warm, September days, -which often succeed a frosty morning; and the trees, which were then -mingled with the vineyards on the heights of Surville, caught the rays -of the sun upon foliage gently tinged with the tints of autumn. The -bells of the churches rang out, for it was the Sabbath; and many a -fair dame, in sparkling attire and with rosary on wrist, flaunted her -Sunday finery along the streets, or might be seen gliding in through -the dark portal to join in the service of the day. Still, there was a -sort of silent solemnity over the place, an uneasy calm, if I may use -an expression which seems to imply a contradiction--an oppressive -expectation. Whenever the bell ceased, there seemed no other sound. -Men walked in groups, and spoke not; even the women bated their breath -and conversed in lower tones.</p> - -<p class="normal">Early in the morning, a gay train had passed into the castle, after -circling the town till a gate, opening beyond the walls into the -fields, had been reached. There were ladies and waiting-women, and -several gentlemen of gallant mien, and a small troop of archers. But -the castle gates swallowed them up, and nothing more was seen of them -for several hours. From time to time, two or three horsemen rode out -of the town, and sometimes a small party re-entered it; but these were -the only occurrences which gave any appearance of movement to the -scene till after the hour of noon.</p> - -<p class="normal">About nine o'clock in the morning, indeed, a young man, in the dress -of a monk, rode in on a mule, put up his beast at a stable, where he -was obliged to use the name of the Marquis De Royans to obtain any -attention, and then proceeded on foot to a large house situated near -the bridge over the Yonne. There were a number of people at the door, -and he made some inquiries, holding a letter in his hand. The answer -seemed unsatisfactory; for he turned away, and walked through the -town, inquiring for the abbey, which lay upon the other side.</p> - -<p class="normal">There were no signs of approaching the precincts of a court, as Jean -Charost proceeded on the way he had been directed. The two streets -through which he passed were nearly deserted, and, being turned from -the sun, looked cool and desolate enough. He began almost to fancy he -had made a mistake, when, on the opposite side of a little square or -close, he saw a large and very beautiful building, with a church at -one end of it, and a row of stone posts before it. All that was left -of it, as far as I remember, in one thousand eight hundred and -twenty-one, was one beautiful doorway, with a rounded arch overhead, -sinking deep with molding within molding, of many a quaint and curious -device, till it made a sort of niche, under which the traveler might -find shelter from the sun or rain. It was, when I saw it, used as the -entrance to a granary; but two guards, with halberts on their -shoulders, walking slowly up and down, and three or four servants -loitering about, or sitting on the steps, showed that it had not been -turned to such base uses, in the year of our Lord fourteen hundred and -nineteen.</p> - -<p class="normal">Directly toward this door De Brecy took his way, giving a glance round -as he passed the corners of the houses opposite, and obtaining a view, -down a short street, of the gently-flowing Seine, with its ancient -bridge and the walls of the old castle. There seemed to be some -curious erections on the bridge: a little pavilion, with a flag -fluttering on the top, and several large wooden barricades; but De -Brecy paused not to inquire what they meant, and walking straight on -to one of the servants, inquired if the Seigneur du Châtel were there, -adding that he had been directed thither from his quarters.</p> - -<p class="normal">The young gentleman spoke with a tone of authority, which, probably, -as well as the glistening of a military haubergeon above the neck of -the monk's frock, procured him a civil answer.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is here, sir," answered the servant; "but is in deep conference -with his highness the dauphin and several other lords. He can in no -way be interrupted."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Give him that letter when he comes from the council, and fail not," -said Jean Charost. "Moreover, I must beg of you to see immediately the -principal officer of his highness's household, and inform him that the -Baron De Brecy, a prisoner of Azincourt, has arrived from England, -bearing a letter for the dauphin from his highness the Duke of -Orleans, and craves leave to lay it at his feet as soon as his -convenience serves."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I fear, sir, that will not be speedily," said the servant. "Where may -you be found when his highness has occasion?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"If Mademoiselle De St. Geran be at the court," replied Jean Charost, -a little discouraged by the impediments he had met with, "I will crave -an interview with her. You may tell her," he added, seeing the man -take a step back as if to enter the building, "that Monsieur De Brecy -waits--an acquaintance of her childhood, whom he trusts she may -remember."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You had better follow me, sir," said the servant. "She is here, and -was alone some half hour ago."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost followed the man into the abbey, one whole wing of which -seemed to be appropriated to the dauphin and his train. No monks were -visible; but still, the dim, religious light of the long passages and -arched cloisters, the quiet courts, and galleries rich in gray stone -fret-work, had a solemnity, if not a gloom, which Jean Charost thought -must contrast strangely with some of those wild courtly revelries -which checkered the fierce strifes and fiery passions of the age.</p> - -<p class="normal">Passing by a number of small doors leading to the cells along the -cloister, where probably the inferior followers of the court were -quartered, the young gentleman was led to the foot of a flight of -highly-ornamented stairs, carried boldly up through a wide, lightsome -hall, round which it turned, and carved and supported with such skill -and delicacy, that it seemed actually to hang in air. At the top ran -round a gallery, screened by fine tracery of stone-work from the -stair-case hall, and on the other hand, all round, except where the -window was placed to afford light, were doors, and the opening of -corridors, over the arch of one of which appeared a mitre, showing -that there had formerly been the apartments of the abbot. The servant -passed on to the next corridor, and then led the visitor along to the -very end, where, after knocking at a door, he entered, said a few -words, and then opened the door wider for Jean Charost to pass in. It -was a small, but richly-decorated room he entered, with a door, -apparently leading to another beyond; and at a table, covered with -many-colored silks, which she seemed sorting into their different -shades, sat a lady, magnificently dressed. She raised her eyes, -beautiful and full of light, but with no glance of recognition in -them, and for a moment De Brecy fancied there must be some mistake. -There was a certain vague, shadowy likeness to the Agnes Sorel he had -formerly known, but yet there was a strange difference. It was the -diamond polished, compared with the diamond dull from the mine.</p> - -<p class="normal">The next instant, however, the likeness suddenly became more strong. -Remembrance seemed to flash up in the countenance of the lovely -creature before him. She threw down the silk, rose hastily from the -table, and exclaimed, with a beaming smile, "Ah, Monsieur De Brecy! He -did not give your name rightly."</p> - -<p class="normal">She was in the very act of advancing to meet him; but suddenly she -paused, and from some cause, unexplained, a warm blush rushed over her -cheek and forehead, and then, the moment after, she turned deadly -pale.</p> - -<p class="normal">She recovered herself speedily, welcomed him most kindly, made him sit -down by her, and listened to all he had to say. She answered him, too, -with every mark of interest; but, from time to time, she fell into a -deep, silent fit of thought, during which her spirit seemed to take -wings and fly far away.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Forgive me, Monsieur De Brecy," she said, at length, "if I seem -sometimes inattentive and absent. Your sudden and unexpected coming -carries me back continually to other days, without leaving me any -power of resistance--I know not whether to call them happier days, -though they were happier in one sense. They were days full of hopes -and purposes, alas! not to be accomplished. But we learn hard lessons, -Monsieur De Brecy, in this severe school of life. We learn to bear -much that we thought we could never bear; and by constantly seeing -changes and chances, and all that befalls others, learn to yield -ourselves unresisting to our fate, with the sad philosophy of enjoying -the day, from a knowledge that we have no power over the morrow. Oh, -what a lapse of strange things there seems to be since you and I last -met! The frightful murder of the poor Duke of Orleans, and your own -undeserved sufferings, mark out that distant time for memory as with a -monument. Between that point and this, doubtless, much has occurred to -both of us that can never be forgotten. But, God help us! it is well -to curb memory with a strong hand, that she run not always back to the -things past, for the course of all mankind is onward. Now let us talk -of what can be done for your deliverance. You must, of course, see his -highness the dauphin before his meeting with the Duke of Burgundy, and -I think I can warrant that he will make a strong effort for your -deliverance. He is a noble and a generous prince, and will do much to -serve his friends--though, Heaven knows, he has had discouragement -enough to weary the heart, and sink the energies of any one. -Nothing but selfishness around him, taking all the many shapes -of that foul, clinging fiend which preys forever upon human -nature--ambition, covetousness, petty malice, calumny, sordid envy, -ingratitude--wherever he turns, there is one of its hateful Hydra -heads gaping wide-mouthed upon him. Yes, you must certainly see him -before the meeting, for no one knows when there may be another--The -meeting! What will be the parting?"</p> - -<p class="normal">She fell into a fit of thought again, but it lasted not long; and, -looking up, she added, "I know not how it is, Monsieur De Brecy, but a -certain sort of dread has come upon me in regard to this meeting, and -every one who approaches me seems to feel the same. I can not help -remembering that this man who comes hither to-day murdered his own -first cousin, when pretending the utmost affection for him, and vowing -peace and amity at the altar; and I should fear for the dauphin's -safety, if I did not know that he has twenty thousand men in this -place and neighborhood, and that every possible precaution has been -taken. What is it, I wonder, makes me feel so sad? Do you think there -is any danger?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I trust not," replied Jean Charost. "They tell me the two princes are -to meet within barriers, assisted by some of their most experienced -counselors; and though the castle has been given up to the duke, yet -the dauphin's force is so much superior to any Burgundian body which -could be brought up, that it would be madness to attempt any -surprise."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Could he not secretly introduce a large force into the castle," asked -Agnes, "and, rushing suddenly upon the bridge, make the dauphin his -prisoner?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He would be taken in the flank and rear," replied De Brecy, "and -speedily punished for his temerity. No, dear lady, as far as I can -judge, the interview must be a very safe one. But, if you wish, I will -go and make further inquiries."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no," she replied; "you must stay here. The council may break up -at any moment, and I will then introduce you to his highness--provided -they do not sit till after the dinner hour, when it would be well for -you to go away and return. The duke, they say, will not be here till -two or three o'clock; but he has sent word from Bray that he will -assuredly come. Nay, is not Madame De Giac in the castle? That is a -certain sign of his coming. Now let us talk of other things, and turn -our eyes once more back to other days. I love sometimes a calm, dreamy -conference with memory--as one sits over a fire at eventide, and sees -misty pageants of the mind rise up before the half-closed eyes, all in -a bright, soft haze. Do you recollect that boy who played so -beautifully upon the violin? He is now the chief musician to her -highness the dauphiness. Would he were here: he would soon soften down -all hard fears and doubts with sweet music."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost took his tone from her, and the conversation proceeded, -quietly and tranquilly enough, for more than an hour, Agnes Sorel -sometimes reverting to her companion's actual situation, but more -frequently suffering her thoughts to linger about the past, as those -are inclined to do who feel uncertain of the present or the future. -Twice she turned the little hour-glass that stood upon the table, but -at length she said, "It is in vain to wait longer, Monsieur De Brecy. -His highness's dinner-hour is now fast approaching. Return to me at -two o'clock; and in the mean time, if possible, see Tanneguy du -Châtel. He may befriend you much, for he is greatly in the prince's -favor, and, moreover, he is honest and true, though somewhat fierce, -and rough of speech, and unforgiving. But he is zealous and, faithful -for his prince, and, strange to say, no envier of other men who seem -rising into power with less truth and less merit than himself. I will -not say farewell, for we shall meet again shortly. Remember, two -o'clock."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost retired at once; but, as he found his way down the -stairs, he heard a door below thrown suddenly open, and several -persons speaking, and even laughing, as they came out. In the hall, at -the foot of the stairs, he found some twelve or fifteen persons slowly -moving across, some stopping for a moment to add a word or two more to -something which had gone before; others hurrying on toward the door by -which he had entered the building. Among the former was a tall, -powerful man, exceedingly broad in the shoulders, with a long -peacock's feather in his cap, who paused for an instant just at the -foot of the stairs to speak with a thin old man in a black gown.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost had just passed them, when the servant with whom he had -spoken before approached the taller man as if to speak to him; and -before Jean had taken ten steps more, he heard his name pronounced -aloud.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Monsieur De Brecy--Monsieur De Brecy!" said the voice; and, turning -round, he found the personage with the peacock's feather following -him. His manner was quick and decided, and not altogether pleasant, -yet there was a frankness about it which one often finds in men of a -bold and ready spirit, where there is no great tenderness or delicacy -of feeling--stern things and rough, but serviceable and sincere.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This letter from De Royans," he said, "comes at a moment of some -hurry; but yet your business wants speedy attention. Come to my house -and dine. We will talk as we eat. We have not time for ceremony."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, he took hold of Jean Charost's arm, as if he had been an -old friend, and drew him on, with long strides, to the house at which -the young gentleman had called in the morning. As they went, he -inquired what he had done in the matter of his ransom, and when he -heard that he had seen Mademoiselle De St. Geran, and interested her -in his behalf, he exclaimed, "'Tis the best thing that could be done. -I could not serve you as well as she can. Are you an old friend of -hers?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I knew her when she was a mere girl," answered Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">Du Châtel appeared hardly to hear his answer, for he seemed, like -Agnes Sorel, subject to fits of deep thought that day; and he did not -wake from the reverie into which he had fallen till they reached the -door of his dwelling. Then, as they were mounting the steps, he broke -forth again with the words, "She can do what she will--lucky that she -always wills well for France; Let me see--" Then, speaking to a -servant, he added, "Dinner instantly. Tell Marivault to have my armor -all laid out ready. Come, De Brecy, all I can do for you I will. But -that is only to make you known to the dauphin, and it must be hastily -too. The fair Agnes must plead your cause with him, though I think it -will not need much pleading."</p> - -<p class="normal">While he had been speaking, he had advanced into a little room on the -left hand side of the entrance, where a small table was laid, as if -for the dinner of one person, and throwing himself on a stool, he -pointed to another, saying, "If this interview ends well, I think -there can be no doubt of your success."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I trust it will end well," said Jean Charost "Is there any reason to -think otherwise?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hum!" said Tanneguy du Châtel. "That will depend altogether upon the -Duke of Burgundy. He is puffed up and insolent, and there be hot -spirits about the dauphin. It were well for him not to use such bold -words as he has lately indulged in. We all mean him well, and fairly; -but if he ruffles his wings as he has lately done, he may chance to go -back with his feathers singed; and then, my good friend, your suit -would be of no avail. Ah, here comes the pottage. Eat, eat; for we -must be quick. It must be a strange thing," he continued, after he had -taken his soup; "it must be a strange thing to go about the world with -the consciousness that every man in all the land believes your death -would be the salvation of France! I should not like the sensation. -Here, wine--boy, give me wine! God send that this all ends well. If -the Duke of Burgundy will but be reasonable, sacrifice some small part -of his ambition to his country's good, remember that he is a subject -and a Frenchman, and fulfill his promises, we may see some happy days -again, and drive these islanders from the land. If not, we are all at -sea again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I trust he will," answered Jean Charost; "but yet he is of a stern, -unbending spirit, as I have cause to know."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha! Has he been your enemy, too?" asked Du Châtel.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not exactly," answered Jean Charost. "Indeed, long ago he made me -high offers if I would enter his service; but it was an insult rather -than a compliment; for he had just then caused the assassination of -the Duke of Orleans, my noble lord."</p> - -<p class="normal">Du Châtel ground his teeth. "Ah, the villain," he said. "That is a -score to be wiped off yet. But you must have done something to serve -him previously. John of Burgundy is not a man to court any one without -some strong motive of self-interest."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have often puzzled myself as to what could be his motive," answered -Jean Charost, with a smile, "but have never been even able to guess at -any inducement, unless it were some words of an astrologer at -Pithiviers, who told him I should be present at his death, and try to -prevent it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Heaven send the prophesy may be soon accomplished!" exclaimed -Tanneguy du Châtel, with a laugh. "I longed to send my sword through -him the other day at Troyes; but I thought it would be hardly -courteous in his own house, when we were eating together. But if I -could meet with him, lance to lance, in the field, I think one or the -other of us would not ride far after."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Shall I give you more wine, my lord?" asked a page, advancing with a -flagon.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," replied his master; "I am hot enough already. Change that dish. -What is there else for dinner?"</p> - -<p class="normal">A man came in as he spoke, and said, in a low voice, "The duke is on -the road, my lord."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, let him come," replied Du Châtel. "We are ready for him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps he may not come on still," replied the man; "for Anthony of -Thoulongeon and John of Ermay have been examining the barricades upon -the bridge with somewhat dark faces, and have ridden out to meet the -duke, their master."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then let him stay away," answered Du Châtel, abruptly. "We mean him -no ill. He has been courted enough. It's his own conscience makes him -afraid to come. Here is some hare, De Brecy. Take some wine, take some -wine. You do not require so spare a diet as I do. Odds life! they let -you blood enough at Azincourt to keep you calm and tranquil."</p> - -<p class="normal">When the brief, frugal dinner was over, Tanneguy du Châtel started up, -saying, "I must go get on my harness. You hurry back to the beautiful -lady you wot of, and wait with her till you hear from me, unless the -dauphin comes in and your business is settled. If not, I will present -you to him before the interview, in the good hope that matters will go -smoothly, and some fair conditions be settled for the good of France. -I know not what is in me to-day. I feel as if quickened by another -spirit. Well, I must get on this armor."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he left the room, and Jean Charost found his way back to -the abbey, where he was kept some time before he obtained audience of -Agnes Sorel. When he was at length admitted, he found her seated with -another lady somewhat younger than herself, and very beautiful also, -with their arms thrown round each other's waists. Neither moved when -the young gentleman entered; but Agnes, bowing her head, said, "This -is Monsieur De Brecy, madam, of whom I spoke to your highness. -Monsieur De Brecy, I present you to the dauphiness."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost, it need hardly be said, was greatly surprised, and, in -some degree, embarrassed; for the suspicions of others had created -suspicions in himself, which he now mistakenly thought were mistaken. -He paid all due reverence to the dauphiness, however, and remained for -nearly an hour conversing with her and the beautiful Agnes, who were -both waiting anxiously, it seemed, for the appearance of the dauphin. -The part of the house in which they were was very quiet; but the -sounds from the country came more readily to the ear than those -proceeding from the town. Some noise, like the hoof-tramp of many -horses, was heard, and the dauphiness looked at Agnes anxiously.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is that? Can you see, Monsieur De Brecy?" asked the latter; and -Jean Charost sprang to the window.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A large party of horse," he answered. "I should judge from four to -five hundred men."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is the duke," exclaimed the dauphiness. "Dearest Agnes, are you -sure there is no danger? Remember the Duke of Orleans."</p> - -<p class="normal">"True, madam," replied Agnes; "but he was well-nigh alone. His -highness has twenty thousand men around him."</p> - -<p class="normal">The dauphiness cast down her eyes in thought, and the moment after one -of the officers of the household entered, saying, "Monsieur De Brecy, -the Seigneur du Châtel desires to see you below."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">When Jean Charost reached the bottom of the great stair-case, -he found -every thing below in a state of great hurry and confusion. A number of -persons were passing out, and stately forms, and burnished arms, and -waving plumes were seen flowing along through the corridor like a -stream. At the foot of the stairs stood Tanneguy du Châtel in complete -arms, with his right foot raised upon the first step, his knee -supporting the pommel of a small battle-ax, and his hand resting on -the blade of the weapon. His beaver was up, and the expression of his -countenance eager and impatient. "Quick, quick, De Brecy," he said. -"The prince has gone on. We must catch him before the interview -begins, if you would speed in your suit."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am ready," said the young man; and on they hastened, somewhat -impeded by the number of attendants and noblemen of the dauphin's -court, who were already following him toward the bridge over the -Seine. They issued out of the abbey, at length, and then made greater -progress in the open streets. But, nevertheless, they did not overtake -the prince and the group that immediately surrounded him, till he had -reached the foot of the high arched bridge on which the barriers were -erected. In the open space on either side of the road, between the -houses and the water, were assembled a strong body of horse and two -large companies of archers. A herald and a marshal kept the way clear -for the prince and his train, and no one appeared upon the bridge -itself but some men, stationed at each of the four barriers, to open -and close the gates as the several parties passed in. On the opposite -side of the river towered up the old castle, with its outworks coming -quite down to the bridge; but nobody appeared there except a few -soldiers on the walls.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here is Monsieur De Brecy, royal sir," said Tanneguy du Châtel, -approaching the dauphin--a tall and graceful, but slightly-formed -young man--"the gentleman who has been a prisoner! since Azincourt, of -whom I spoke to your highness, as did also, I hear, your royal lady, -and Mademoiselle De St. Geran."</p> - -<p class="normal">The dauphin turned partly round, and gave one glance at Jean Charost, -saying, "Bring him in with you, Du Châtel. We will speak with him -within the barriers; for, by all I see, my fair cousin of Burgundy -intends to keep me waiting."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, the dauphin passed on with two or three other persons, -the barrier being raised to give him admission. The man in charge of -the gate seemed to hesitate at the sight of Jean Charost in his monk's -gown; but Du Châtel exclaimed, sharply, "The Baron De Brecy. Let him -pass. I am his warrant."</p> - -<p class="normal">The second barrier was passed in the same way as the first by the -dauphin and his immediate followers; but a number of the train -remained between the two barricades, according to orders apparently -previously given. The keeper of the second barrier made greater -difficulty than the other to let Jean Charost pass and it was not till -the dauphin himself turned his head, and said, "Let him enter," that -the rail was raised.</p> - -<p class="normal">Across the centre of the bridge a single light rail was drawn, and in -the space between that and the second barrier was placed a little -pavilion, decorated with crimson silk, and furnished with a chair for -the use of the prince. He advanced at once toward it and seated -himself, and those who accompanied him, in number about two or three -and twenty, gathered round, and an eager conversation seemed to take -place among them. Tanneguy du Châtel mingled with the rest, -approaching close to the side of the dauphin; but Jean Charost -remained on the verge of the group, unnoticed, and apparently -forgotten.</p> - -<p class="normal">Some one was heard to say something regarding the insolence of keeping -his highness waiting; and then the voice of Du Châtel answered, in a -frank tone, "Not insolence, perhaps--suspicion and fear, very likely."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We wish him no ill," said the dauphin. "Let him keep his promises, -and we will embrace him with all friendship. Perhaps he does not know -that we are here. Go and summon him, Du Châtel."</p> - -<p class="normal">Without reply, Tanneguy hastened away, vaulted, armed as he was, over -the rail which crossed the bridge at the centre, and passed through -the two other barriers on the side of the castle, disappearing under -the archway of the gate.</p> - -<p class="normal">The eyes of most persons present were turned in that direction; but -the dauphin looked round, with a somewhat listless air, as if for some -object with which to fill up the time, and, seeing Jean Charost, he -beckoned him up.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am glad to see you, Monsieur De Brecy," he said. "They tell me you -have a letter for me from my cousin of Orleans. Were you not, if I -remember right, the secretary of his father, my uncle, who was so -basely murdered?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I was, your highness," replied Jean Charost. "Permit me to present -you the young duke's letter."</p> - -<p class="normal">The dauphin took it, but did not break the seal, merely saying, "I -grieve deeply for my good cousin's long imprisonment, and if we can -bring this stout-hearted Duke of Burgundy to any thing like reasonable -terms of accommodation, I doubt not that we shall be able to conclude -an honorable peace with England, in which case his liberation shall be -stipulated, and yours, too, Monsieur De Brecy; for I am told you not -only served well, and suffered much at Azincourt, but that your noble -devotion to my murdered uncle had well-nigh cost your own life. Rest -assured you shall be remembered."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost judged rightly whence the prince's information came; and -he was expressing his thanks, when some of those who were standing -round exclaimed, "The duke is coming, your highness!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Somewhat late," said the young prince, with a frown; "but better that -than not come at all. Well go, some of you, and do him honor."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he rose and advanced slowly to the rail across the -bridge, on which he leaned, crossing his arms upon his chest.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the meanwhile, a small party, consisting of ten or twelve people, -were seen approaching from the gate of the castle. At the first -barrier they halted, and a short consultation seemed to take place. -Before it was finished they were joined by some six or seven noblemen -who had left the group about the dauphin by his command. They then -moved forward again; but some way in advance of them came Tanneguy du -Châtel, with a quick step and a flushed countenance.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This man is very bold, my prince," he said, in a low tone. "God send -his looks and words may be more humble here, for I know not how any of -us will bear it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Go back--go back, and bring him on," said the dauphin. "He shall hear -some truths he may not lately have heard. Be you calm, Du Châtel, and -leave me to deal with him. I will not spare."</p> - -<p class="normal">Eagerness to see all the strange scene that was passing had led Jean -Charost almost close to the rail by the time that Tanneguy du Châtel -turned, and advanced once more to meet the Duke of Burgundy. That -prince was now easily to be distinguished a little in advance of his -company, and Jean Charost remarked that he had greatly changed since -he last saw him. Though still a strong and active man, he looked much -older, and deep lines of anxious thought were traced upon his cheek -and brow. At first his eyes were fixed upon the dauphin, who continued -to lean against the rail without the slightest movement; but as he -came on, the duke looked to the right and left, running his eyes over -the prince's attendants, and when about ten steps from the rail, they -rested firmly and inquiringly on the face of Jean Charost. For a -moment the sight seemed to puzzle him; but then a look of recognition -came over his countenance; and the next instant he turned deadly pale.</p> - -<p class="normal">A sort of hesitation was seen in his step and air; but he recovered -himself at once, advanced straight to the dauphin, and bent one knee -to the ground before him, throwing his heavy sword behind with his -left hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">The dauphin moved not, spoke not, for a moment, but gazed upon the -duke with a heavy, frowning brow. "Well, cousin of Burgundy," he said, -at length, without asking him to rise, "you have come at length. I -thought you were going to violate your promise now, as in the other -cases."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have violated no promises, Charles of France," replied the duke, in -a tone equally sharp.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Heaven is witness that you have," answered the dauphin. "Did you not -promise to cease from war? Did you not promise to withdraw your -garrisons from five cities where they still are?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The duke's face flushed, his eyes sparkled, and his brow contracted. -What he replied, Jean Charost did not hear; but seeing a gentleman -close to the dauphin lay his hand upon his dagger, he caught him by -the arm, whispering, "Forbear! forbear!"</p> - -<p class="normal">At the same moment, one of the dauphin's officers, who had gone to -meet the duke, took that prince by the arm, saying, "Rise, sir--rise. -You are too honorable to remain kneeling."</p> - -<p class="normal">Whether the duke heard, or mistook him, I know not; but he turned -sharply toward him, with a fierce look, and, either moved by his -haughty spirit, or in order to rise more easily, he put his right hand -on the hilt of his sword; and Robert de Loire exclaimed, in a voice of -thunder, "Dare you put your hand on your sword in the presence of our -lord the dauphin!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is time that this should cease!" cried Tanneguy du Châtel, his -whole countenance inflamed, and his eyes flashing fire; and at the -same moment he struck the duke a blow with the ax he carried in his -hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">Burgundy started up, and partly drew his sword; but another blow beat -him on his knee again, and another cast him headlong to the ground. A -strong man, named Oliver de Laget and another sprang upon him, and -thrust a sword into his body. At the same moment, a scuffle occurred -at a little distance between one of the followers of the duke and some -of the dauphin's party, and Jean Charost saw a man fall; but all was -confused and indistinct. Horror, surprise, and a wild, grasping effort -of the mind to seize all the consequences to France, to England, to -himself, which might follow that dreadful act, stupefied and -confounded him. Every thing passed, as in a dream, with rapid -indistinctness, to be brought out vivid and strong by an after effort -of memory. That the duke was killed at the very feet of the dauphin, -was all that his mind had room for at the moment.</p> - -<p class="normal">The next instant a voice exclaimed, "Look to the dauphin--look to the -dauphin!" and Jean Charost saw him staggering back from the rail as -pale as death, and with his eyes half closed.</p> - -<p class="normal">It is not unlikely that many there present had contemplated as -possible some such event as that which had taken place, without any -definite purpose of effecting it, or taking any part therein. Popular -expectation has often something prophetic in it, and the warning -voice, which had rendered so many grave and thoughtful during the -whole course of that morning, must have been heard also by the actors -of the scene which had just passed. But one thing is certain, and the -whole history of the time leaves no doubt of the fact, that the -dauphin himself had neither any active share in his cousin's death, -nor any participation in a conspiracy to effect it. They bore him -back, fainting, to the little pavilion which had been raised for his -accommodation, and thence, after a time, led him, in profound silence, -to the abbey, while his followers secured a number of the Duke of -Burgundy's immediate attendants, and the soldiery, crowding on the -bridge, threatened the castle itself with assault.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost retired from the scene with a sad heart. His hopes were -disappointed; his fate seemed sealed; but though he felt all this -bitterly, yet he felt still more despondency at the thought of his -unhappy country's fate. Personal rivalry, selfish ambition, greed of -power and of wealth, undisciplined valor, insubordinate obstinacy, -were all urging her on to the verge of a precipice from which a -miracle seemed necessary to save her. The feelings which filled his -breast at that moment were very like those expressed by the -contemporary historian when he wrote, "Only to hear recounted this -affair is so pitiful and lamentable that greater there can not be; and -especially the hearts of all noble men, and other true men, natives of -the kingdom of France, must be of great sadness and shame in beholding -those of such noble blood as of the <i>fleur de lis</i>, so near of -kindred, themselves destroy one another, and the same kingdom placed, -in consequence of the facts above mentioned, and others past and done -before, in the way and the danger of falling under a new lord and -altogether going to perdition."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">To dwell minutely upon a period unfilled by action, and merely -marked -by the revolution of day and night, even in the life of a person in -whom we have some interest, would be almost as dull as to describe in -detail the turning of a grindstone. It is not with the eventless -events of a history that we have to do--not with the flat spaces on -the road of life. We sit not down to relate a sleep or to paint a -fishpond.</p> - -<p class="normal">Little occurred to Jean Charost during the rest of his stay in France -that is worth the telling which will not be referred to hereafter. Let -us change the scene then, and, spreading the wings of Fancy, fly on -through the air of Time to a spot some years in advance.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was an old house, or rather palace, and well it deserved the -name, situated near the great city of London, close upon the banks of -the River Thames. Men now living can remember parts of it still -standing, choked up with houses, like some great shell of the green -deep incrusted with limpets and other tiny habitations of the vermin -of the sea. At the time of this history it had gardens running all -around it, extending wide and pleasantly on the water side, though but -narrow between the palace itself and the stone-battlemented wall which -separated them from the great Strand road leading from the Temple gate -of the city to the village of Charing.</p> - -<p class="normal">Fretted and richly carved in some parts, plain and stern in others, -the old palace of the Savoy combined in itself the architecture of -several ages. Many were the purposes it had served too--sometimes the -place of revelry and mirth--sometimes the witness of the prisoner's -tears. It had been the residence of John, king of France, during his -captivity in England some half century before; and since that time it -had principally served--grown almost by prescription to be so used--as -an honorable prison for foreign enemies when the chances of war -brought them in bonds to England.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the midst of the embattled wall that I have mentioned, and -projecting a little beyond its line, stood a great gate-house, which -has long since been pulled down, or has fallen, perhaps, without the -aid of man; and that gate-house had two large towers of three stories -each, affording very comfortable apartments, as that day went, to -their occasional tenants. They were roomy and pleasant of aspect -enough. One of these towers was appropriated to the wardens of the -Savoy and their families, while the other received at various times a -great number of different denizens, sometimes princes, sometimes -prisoners, sometimes refugees, people who remained but a few days, -people who passed there half a lifetime. The stone walls within were -thickly traced with names, some scrawled with chalk, or written in -ink; and among these the most conspicuous were records of the -existence there for several years of persons attached to the -unfortunate King John.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was a cheerful building in those days; nothing obscured the view or -hid the sunshine; and the smiling gardens, the glittering river, or -the busy high-road could be seen from most of the windows of the -palace.</p> - -<p class="normal">In a room on the first floor of the eastern tower of the gate-house, -Jean Charost is once more before us. Monterreau's blood-stained -bridge, the dauphin and the murderers, and the dying Duke of Burgundy, -have passed away; and there are but two women with him. Yes, I may -call them women both, though their ages are very far apart. One is in -the silver-haired decline of life, the other is just blossoming; they -are the withered flower and the bud.</p> - -<p class="normal">They were seated round a little table, and had evidently been talking -earnestly. Madame De Brecy's eyes had traces of tears on them, and -those of the young girl, turned up to Jean Charost's face, were full -of eagerness and entreaty.</p> - -<p class="normal">"In vain, dear mother--in vain," said Jean Charost. "My resolution is -as firm as ever. Jacques Cœur is generous; but I can not lay myself -under such an obligation, and even at the most moderate rate, to raise -such a sum in the present state of France, would deprive you of two -thirds of your whole income. This captivity is weary to me. To remain -here year after year, while France has been dismembered, her crown -bought and sold, her fair fields ravaged, her cities become -slaughter-houses, has been terrible--has doubled the load of time, has -depressed my light spirits, and almost worn out hope and expectation. -But yet I will not trust the fate of two, so dear as you two are, to -the power of circumstances. You say, apply to Lord Willoughby. I have -applied; but it is in vain. He gives me, as you know, all kindly -liberty: no act of kindness or courtesy is wanting. But on one point -he is inflexible, and we all feel and know that he is ruled by a power -which he must obey. It is the same with others who have prisoners of -some consideration. They can not place them at reasonable ransom, -though the rules of chivalry and courtesy require it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He seems a kind man, Jean," said the young girl, still looking in his -face. "He spoke gently and good-humoredly to me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, gentleness and good humor, my sweet Agnes," said Jean Charost, -"will not make a man disobey the commands of his monarch. Another -month, and I shall have lain a prisoner seven long years. Why, Agnes, -my hair is growing gray, while yours is getting darker every hour. I -can recollect your locks like sunshine on a hill, and now a raven's -wing is hardly blacker."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, I saw a gray hair the other day in that curl upon your temple," -said the girl, with a laugh. "You will soon be a white-headed old man, -Jean, if you obstinately remain here, when our dear mother would -willingly sell all to free you. Though I think, after all, you are -getting a little younger since we came. We have now been three years -with you in this horrible country, and I think you look a year -younger."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost smiled, saying, "Certainly I do, Sunshine, else do you -shine in vain."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, I am going out to seek more sunshine," said the girl. "I will -wander away up the bank of the river, and say an ave at the -Blackfriars' Church. And then, perhaps, I will go into the Church of -the Templar's, and look at the tombs of the old knights, with their -feet crossed, and their swords half drawn; and then I will come back -again; for then it will be dinner-time. Good-by till then."</p> - -<p class="normal">She tripped away with a light step, down the stair-case, out upon the -road; and when Jean Charost looked after her out of the window he saw -her going slowly and thoughtfully along. But Agnes did not continue -that pace for any great distance. As soon as she was out of the gate -tower of the Savoy, she hurried on with great rapidity, turned up a -narrow lane between two fields on the west of the road, and, passing -the house of the Bishop of Lincoln, not even stopping to scent her -favorite briar rose which was thick upon the hedges, paused at a -modern brick house--modern in those days--with towers and turrets in -plenty, and the arms of the house of Willoughby hung out from a spear -above the gate.</p> - -<p class="normal">An old white-headed man sat upon the great stone bench beneath the -archway; and a soldier moved backward and forward upon a projecting -gallery in front of the building. A page, playing with a cat, was seen -further in under the arch, in the blue shade, and one or two loiterers -appeared in the court beyond, on the side where the summer sun could -not visit them.</p> - -<p class="normal">Agnes stopped by the porter's side, and asked if she could see the -Lord Willoughby.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Doubtless, doubtless," said the man, "if he be not taking his -forenoon sleep, and that can hardly be, for old Thomas of Erpingham -has been with him, and the right worshipful deaf knight's sweet voice -would well-nigh rouse the dead--'specially when he talks of Azincourt. -Go, boy, to our lord, and tell him a young maiden wants to see him. -Ah, I can recollect the time when that news would have got a speedy -answer. But alack, fair lady, we grow slow as we get old. Sit you down -by me now, till the page returns, and then the saucy fellows in the -court dare not gibe."</p> - -<p class="normal">Agnes seated herself, as he invited her; but she had not waited long -ere the boy returned, and ushered her through one long passage to a -room on the ground floor, where she found the old lord writing a -letter--with some difficulty it must be confessed; for he was no great -scribe--but very diligently. He hardly looked round, but continued his -occupation, saying, "What is it, child? The boy tells me you would -speak with me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"When you have leisure, my good lord," replied Agnes, standing a -little behind him. But the old man started at her voice, and turned -round to gaze at her.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah!" he exclaimed. "My little French lady, is that you? It is very -strange, your face always puts me in mind of some one else, and your -tongue does so too. However, there is no time in life to think of such -things. Sit you down--sit you down a moment. I shall soon have -finished this epistle--would it were in the fire. I have but a line to -add."</p> - -<p class="normal">He was near a quarter of an hour, however, in finishing that line; and -Agnes sat mute and thoughtful, gazing at his face, and, as one will do -when one has important interests depending on another, drawing -auguries from every line about it. It was a good, honest old English -face, with an expression of frank good nature, a little testiness, and -much courtesy; and the young girl drew favorable inferences before she -ended her reverie.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length the letter was finished, folded, sealed, and dispatched; and -then turning to Agnes, the old soldier took her hands in his, saying, -"I am glad to see you, my dear. What is it you want? Our friend at the -Savoy--your father--brother--husband--I know not what, is not ill, I -hope."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Very ill," replied Agnes, in a quiet, gentle tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha!" cried the old gentleman. "How so? What is the matter?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is ill at ease, my lord--sick at heart--is in a fever to return to -his own land."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You little deceiver," cried Lord Willoughby, laughing. "You made me -anxious about the good young baron, and now it is but the old story, -after all. But why should he pine so to get back to France? This is a -fine country--this a fine city; and God is my witness I do all I can -to make him happy. He is little more than a prisoner in name."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But still a prisoner, my lord," replied Agnes, with a touching -earnestness. "The very name is the chain. Think you not that to a -gentleman, a man of a free spirit, the very feeling of being a -prisoner is heavier than fetters of iron to a serf. You may cage a -singing-bird, my lord, but an eagle beats itself to death against the -bars. Would you be content to rest a captive in France, however well -treated you might be? Would you be content to know that you could not -revisit your own dear land, see the scenes where your youth had -passed, embrace your friends and relations, breathe your own native -air? Would you be content to sit down at night in a lonely room, not -in your own castle, and, looking at your wrists, though you saw not -the fetters there, say to yourself, 'I am a captive, nevertheless. A -captive to my fellowman--I can not go where I would, do what I would. -I am bound down to times and places--a prisoner--a prisoner still, -though I may carry my prison about with me!' Would any man be content -with this? and if so, how much less can a knight and a gentleman sit -down in peace and quiet, content to be a prisoner in a foreign land, -when his country needs his services, when every gentleman of France is -wanted for the aid of France, when his king is to be served, his -country's battles to be fought, even against you, my lord, and his own -honor and renown to be maintained?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay; you touch me there--you touch me there, young lady," said the old -nobleman. "On my life, for my part, I would never keep a brave enemy -in prison, but have him pay only what he could for ransom, and then -let him go to fight me again another day."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Monsieur De Brecy's father," continued Agnes, simply, "died in a lost -field against the English. The son is here in an English prison. Think -you not that he envies his father?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps he does, perhaps he does," cried Lord Willoughby, starting -up, and walking backward and forward in the room. "But what can I do?" -he continued, stopping before Agnes and gazing at her with a look of -sincere distress. "The king made me promise that I would not liberate -any of my prisoners, so long as he and I both lived, without his -special consent, except at the heavy ransoms he himself had fixed. My -dear child, you talk like a woman, and yet you touch me like a child. -But you can, I am sure, understand that it is not in my power; or, -upon my faith and chivalry, I would grant what you desire."</p> - -<p class="normal">The tears rose in Agnes's beautiful eyes. "I know you would be kind," -she said. "But his mother insisted upon selling all they have to pay -his ransom. He would not have it; for it would reduce her to poverty, -and I came away to see if I could not move you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"On my life," cried Lord Willoughby, "I have a mind to send you to the -king."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where is he?" cried Agnes. "I am ready to go to him at once."</p> - -<p class="normal">The old lord shook his head: "He is in France," he said; and was going -to add something more, when a tall servant suddenly opened the door, -and began some announcement by saying, "My lord, here is--"</p> - -<p class="normal">But he was not suffered to finish the sentence; for a powerful, -middle-aged man, unarmed, but booted and spurred, pushed past him into -the room, and Lord Willoughby exclaimed, "Ha, Dorset! what brings you -from France? Has aught gone amiss?"</p> - -<p class="normal">There was some cause for the latter question; for there was more than -haste in the expression of the Earl of Dorset's countenance: there was -grief, and there was anxiety.</p> - -<p class="normal">With a hasty step he advanced to Lord Willoughby, laid his hand upon -his arm, and said something in a low voice which Agnes did not hear. -The old lord started back with a look of sorrow and consternation. -"Dead!" he exclaimed. "Dead! So young--so full of life--so needful to -his people. Dorset, Dorset; in God's name, say that my ears have -deceived me. Killed in battle, ha! Some random bolt from that petty -town of Cone, whither he was marching when last I heard. It must be -so. He, like the great Richard, was doomed to find such a fate--to -fall before an insignificant hamlet by a peasant's hand. He exposed -himself too much, Dorset--he exposed himself too much."</p> - -<p class="normal">Dorset shook his head: "No," he replied, "he died of sickness in his -bed; but like a soldier and a hero still--calmly, courageously, -without a faltering thought or sickly fear. Heaven rest his soul: we -shall never have a greater or a better king. But harkee, Willoughby, I -must go on at once and summon the council. Come you up with all speed; -for there will be much matter for anxious deliberation, and need of -wise heads, and much experience."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will, I will," replied Lord Willoughby. "Ho, boy! without there. -Get my horses ready with all speed. Farewell, Dorset; I will join you -in half an hour. Now--Odds' life, my sweet young lady, I had forgot -your presence. What was it we were saying? Oh, I remember now. The -course of earthly events is very strange. That which brings tears to -some eyes wipes them away from others. Come hither; I will write a -note to your young guardian, and none but yourself shall be its -bearer. My duty to my king is done, and I am free to act as I will. -Stay for it; it shall be very short."</p> - -<p class="normal">He then drew a scrap of paper toward him, and wrote slowly, "The -ransom of the Baron De Brecy is diminished one half.</p> - -<p class="normal">"In witness whereof I have set my hand.</p> - -<p style="text-indent:40%">"<span class="sc">Willoughby</span>."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There, take it, dear child," he said, "and let him thank God, and -thank you;" and drawing her toward him, he imprinted a kind and -fatherly kiss upon her forehead, and then led her courteously to the -door.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Sometimes very small and insignificant occurrences, even when -anticipated and prepared for, produce mighty and unforeseen -consequences; sometimes great and startling events the least expected, -and the least provided against, pass away quietly without producing -any immediate result.</p> - -<p class="normal">Henry the Fifth of England had returned to France in high health, had -triumphed over all enemies, and had used the very storms and tempests -of passion and faction as instruments of his will. All yielded before -him; victory seemed his right; health and long life his privilege; and -success the obedient servant of his will. No one contemplated a -change--no one even dreamed of a reverse; defeat was never thought of; -death was never mentioned. There was no expectation, no preparation. -But in the midst of triumph, and activity, and energetic power, he was -touched by the transforming wand of sickness. Few hours were allowed -him to set his house in order; and in the prime of life and the midst -of glory, the successful general, the gallant knight, the wise -statesman, the ambitious king closed his eyes upon the world, and -nothing but a mighty name remained.</p> - -<p class="normal">What changes might have been expected to follow an event so little -contemplated! Yet very few, if any, occurred. His last hours, while -writhing on a bed of pain, sufficed to regulate all the affairs of two -great kingdoms, and his wisdom and foresight, as well as his energy -and resolution, were never more strongly displayed than on the bed of -death. All remained quiet; the sceptre of England passed from the hand -of the hero to the hand of the child; and in France no popular -movement of any importance showed that the people were awakened to the -value of the chances before them. All remained quiescent; the vigorous -and unsparing hand of Bedford seemed no less strong than had been that -of his departed brother; and, reduced to a few remote provinces, the -party of the dauphin was powerless and inert.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was while this state continued, that three persons entered the old -hall of the château of Brecy just as the sun was going down. The elder -lady leaned with a feeble and fatigued air upon the arm of Jean -Charost; Agnes had both her hands clasped upon his other arm, and all -three paused at the door, and looked round with an expression, if not -somewhat sad, somewhat anxious. All were very glad to be there again; -all were very glad to be even in France once more. But three years -make a great difference in men, in countries, and in places; and when -we return to an ancient dwelling-place, we are more conscious, -perhaps, of the workings of time than at any other period. We feel -within ourselves that we are changed, and we expect to find a change -in external objects also--we look to see a stone fallen from the -walls, the moss or mildew upon the paneling, the monitory dust -creeping over the floor, the symptoms of alteration and decay apparent -in the place of cherished memories.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was nothing of the kind, however, to be seen in the old hall of -the château of De Brecy. The evening rays of sunshine gliding through -the windows shone cheerfully against the wall; the room was swept and -garnished. All was neat and in good array; and it seemed as if, from -that little circumstance alone, Hope relighted her lamp for their -somewhat despondent hearts.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There may be bright days before us yet, my son," said Madame de -Brecy, in a calm, grave tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, yes, there will be bright days," said Agnes, warmly and -enthusiastically. "We are back in France--fair bright France; we are -back, safe and well, and there must be happy days for us yet."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I wonder," said Jean Charost, thoughtfully, "who has kept up the -place so carefully. We left but poor old Augustine, incapable of much -exertion. The friendly offices of Jacques Cœur must have had a hand -in this."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not much, sir," said a voice behind him; "if that very excellent -gentleman will permit me to say so."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost turned round, and perceived Jacques Cœur himself -entering the hall with a stout little man in a gardener's habit. I -say a gardener's habit, because in those blessed days, called the good -old times, which had their excellences as well as their defects, you -could tell a man's trade, calling, profession, or degree--at least -usually--by his dress. It was a good habit, it was a beneficial habit, -was an honest habit. You could never mistake a priest for a -life-guardsman, nor a shop-boy for a prime minister--nor the reverse. -In our own times, alas--in our days of liberty (approaching license), -equality (founded upon the grossest delusion), and fraternity (which, -as far as we have seen it carried, is the fraternity of Cain), we are -allowed to disguise ourselves as we will, to sail under any false -colors that may suit us, to cheat, and swindle, and lie, and deceive -in whatever garb may seem best fitted for our purpose. The vanity and -hypocrisy of the multitude have triumphed not only altogether over -sumptuary laws, but, in a great part, over custom itself and I know -nothing that a man may not assume, except the queen's crown, and God -protect that for her, and for her race forever!</p> - -<p class="normal">The gardener's habit, however, with the blue cloth stockings bound on -with leathern straps, was so apparent in the present instance, that -Jean Charost, who was unconscious of having a gardener, could not for -an instant conceive who the personage was, till the face of Martin -Grille, waxen like that of the moon at the end of the second quarter, -grew distinct to recollection.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He says true, my good friend, Monsieur de Brecy," said Jacques -Cœur, "and right glad I am, his care should have so provided that -your first sight of your own house, on your return from captivity -should be a pleasant one. The only share I have had in this, as your -agent, has been to let him do what he would."</p> - -<p class="normal">"'Tis explained in a word, sir," said Martin Grille. "You told me you -could not afford to keep me while you were a prisoner; and I thought I -could afford to keep myself, out of the waste ground about the castle, -and keep the castle in good order too. I had always a fancy for -gardening when I was a boy, and had once a whole crop of beans in an -old sauce-pan, on the top of the garret where my mother lived in -Paris. The first five sous I ever had in my life was for an ounce of -onion seed which I raised in a cracked pitcher. I was intended by -nature for digging the earth, and not for digging holes in other -people's bodies; and the town of Bourges owes me some of the best -cabbages that ever were grown, when I am quite sure I should have -reaped any thing but a crop of glory if I had cultivated the fields of -war. However, here I am, ready to take up the trade of valet again, if -you will let me; and, to show that I have not forgotten the mystery, I -rubbed up all your old arms last night, brushed coats, mantles, -jerkins, houseaux, and every thing else I could find, and swept up -every room in the house to save poor old Augustine's unbendable back."</p> - -<p class="normal">In more ways than one, the house was well prepared for the return of -its lord, and, thanks to the care of good Martin Grille, a very -comfortable supper had not been forgotten. It was a strange sensation, -however, for Jean Charost, when the sun had gone down and the sconces -were lighted, to sit once more in his own hall, a free man, with -friendly faces all about him--a pleasant sensation, and yet somewhat -overpowering. The tears stood in Madame De Brecy's eyes more than once -during that evening; but Agnes, whose spirits were light, and who had -fewer memories, was full of gay joyfulness.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost himself was very calm; but he often thought, had he been -alone, he could have wept too.</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus some thought and some feeling was given to personal things; but -the fate, the state, the history of his country during his absence -occupied no small portion of his attention. In those days news -traveled slowly. Great facts were probably more accurately stated and -known than even now; for there was no complicated machinery for the -dissemination of falsehood, no public press wielded by party spirit -for the purpose of adulterating the true with the false. A certain -generosity, too, had survived the pure chivalrous ages, and men, even -during life, could attribute high and noble qualities to an enemy; but -details were generally lost. Jean Charost was anxious to hear those -details, and when they gathered round the great chimney and the -blazing hearth--for it was now October, and the nights were -frosty--Jacques Cœur undertook to give his young friend some -account of all that had taken place in France since the battle of -Azincourt, somewhat to the following effect.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You remember well, my friend," he said, "that, after the fall of -Harfleur, John of Burgundy only escaped the name of traitor by a -lukewarm offer to join his troops to those of France in defense of -the realm. But he was distrusted, and probably not without cause. You -were already a prisoner in England when the Orleanist party obtained -entire preponderance at the court, and the young duke being in -captivity like yourself, the leading of that faction was assumed by -his father-in-law, the Count of Armagnac. Rapid, great, and perilous -was his rise, and fearless, bold, and bloody he showed himself. The -sword of constable placed the whole military power of France at his -disposal, and the death of the dauphin Louis left him no rival in -authority or favor. Happy had it been for him had he contented himself -with military authority; but he must grasp the finances too; and in -the disastrous state of the revenues of the crown, the imposts, only -justified by a hard necessity, raised him up daily enemies. His rude -and merciless severity, too, irritated even more than it alarmed, and -it was not long before all those who had been long indifferent went to -swell the ranks of his adversaries. True, his party was strong; true, -hatred of the Burgundian faction was intense in a multitude of -Frenchmen. But the great lords, and many of the princes attached to -the house of Orleans, were absent and powerless in English prisons. By -every means that policy and duplicity could suggest, John of Burgundy -strove to augment the number of his friends. All those who fled from -the persecution of Armagnac were received by him with joy and treated -with distinction. He increased his forces; he hovered about Paris; he -treated the orders of the court to retire, if not with contempt, with -disobedience. At length, however, he seemed to give up the hope of -making himself master of the capital, and retreated suddenly into -Artois.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not judging his enemy rightly, the Count of Armagnac resolved to -seize the opportunity of an open path, in order to strike a blow for -the recovery of Harfleur; and, leaving a strong garrison in Paris, he -set out upon his expedition. No sooner was he gone, than John of -Burgundy hastened to profit by his absence, and rapid negotiations -took place between him and his partisans within the walls of Paris. -You know the turbulent and factious nature of the lower order of -citizens in the capital. Many of them were animated with mistaken zeal -for the house of Burgundy; more were eager for plunder, or thirsty for -blood; and one of the darkest and most detestable plots that ever -blackened the page of history was formed for the destruction of the -whole Armagnac party, and that, too, with the full cognizance of the -Duke of Burgundy. It was determined that, at a certain hour, the -conspirators should appear in arms in the streets of Paris, seize upon -the queen, the king, and the young dauphin, John, murder the-whole of -the Armagnac faction, and, after having seized the Duke of Berri and -the King of Sicily, load them with chains, and make a spectacle of -them in the streets of Paris mounted on an ox, and then put them to -death likewise.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The plot was frustrated by the fears or remorse of a woman, within a -few minutes of the hour appointed for its execution. Precautions were -taken; the royal family placed in safety; and Tanneguy du Châtel, at -the head of his troops, issued forth from the Bastile, and made -himself master of the houses and the persons of the conspirators. -There was no mercy, my friend, for any one who was found in arms. Some -suffered by the cord or hatchet, some were drowned in the Seine; and -Armagnac returning, added to the chastisement already inflicted on -individuals, the punishment of the whole city of Paris. Suspicion was -received as proof, indifference became a crime, the prisons were -filled to overflowing, and the very name of Burgundian was proscribed. -The troops of the Duke of Burgundy, which had approached the city of -Paris, were attacked in the open field, and civil war, in its most -desolating aspect, raged all around the metropolis.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Every sort of evil seemed poured out upon France, as if all the -fountains of Heaven's wrath were opened to rain woes upon the land. -Another dauphin was snatched away from us, and rumors of poison were -very general; but the death of one prince was very small in comparison -with the treason of another. There is no doubt, De Brecy, that John of -Burgundy, frustrated in his attempt upon Paris, entered into a league -with the enemies of his country, and secretly recognized Henry of -England as king of France. Dissensions arose between the queen and the -Count of Armagnac, in which our present dauphin, Charles, was so far -compromised as to incur the everlasting hatred of his mother. -Burgundy, the queen, and England, united for the destruction of the -dauphin and the Count of Armagnac, and vengeance and ambition combined -for the final ruin of the country. The politic King of England took -advantage of all, and marched on from conquest to conquest throughout -Normandy, while, by slow degrees, the Duke of Burgundy approached -nearer and nearer to the capital. The perils by which he was -surrounded appeared to deprive Armagnac of judgment: he seemed -possessed of the fury of a wild beast, and little doubt exists that he -meditated a general massacre of the citizens of Paris. But his crimes -were cut short by the crimes of others. The troops of Burgundy were in -possession of Pontoise. A well-disposed and peaceable young man, -insulted and injured by a follower of Armagnac, found means to -introduce his enemies into the city of Paris. At the first cry of -Burgundy, thousands rose to deliver themselves from the tyranny under -which they groaned, and, headed by a man named Caboche, retaliated, in -a most fearful manner, on the party of Armagnac, the evils which it -had inflicted. The prisons were filled; the streets ran with blood; -and the Count of Armagnac, himself forced to fly, was concealed for a -few hours by a mason, only to be delivered up in the end. The queen -and the Duke of Burgundy encouraged the massacre; the prisons were -broken into, the prisoners murdered in cold blood; the Châtelet was -set on fire, and the unhappy captives within its walls were driven -back into the flames at the point of the pike; and the leaders of the -Armagnac faction were dragged through the streets for days before they -were torn to pieces by the people. Tanneguy du Châtel alone showed -courage and discretion, and obtained safety, if not success. He -rescued the dauphin in the midst of the tumult, placed him in safety -at Melun, returned to the capital, fought gallantly for some hours -against the insurgents and the troops of Burgundy, and then retired to -counsel and support his prince. The queen and the Duke of Burgundy -entered the city in triumph; flowers were strewed before her on the -blood-stained streets; and a prince of the blood-royal of France was -seen grasping familiarly the hands of low-born murderers. But the -powers, which he had raised into active virulence, were soon found -ungovernable by the Duke of Burgundy, and he determined first to -weaken, and then to destroy them. The troops of assassins fancied -themselves soldiers, because they were butchers, and demanded to be -led against the enemy. The duke was right willing to gratify them, and -sent forth two bands of many thousands each. The first was beaten and -nearly cut to pieces by the Armagnac troops. The remnant murdered -their leaders in their rage of disappointment, but did not profit by -the experience they had gained. The second party were defeated with -terrible loss, and fled in haste to Paris; but the gates were shut -against them; and dispersing, they joined the numerous bands of -plunderers that infested the country, and were pursued and slaughtered -by the troops of Burgundy. Thus weakened, the insurgents, who had -brought back the Duke of Burgundy to Paris, were easily subjugated by -the duke himself: their leaders perished on the scaffold; and -thousands of the inferior villains were swept away by various indirect -means. A still more merciless scourge, however, than either Armagnac -or Burgundy was about to smite the devoted city--a scourge that spared -no party, respected no rank or station. The plague appeared in the -capital, and, in the space of a few months, the grave received more -than a hundred thousand persons of every age, class, and sex. In some -of these events perished Caboche, the uncle of your servant Martin -Grille, who, with the courage of a lion and the fierceness of a tiger, -combined some talents, which, better employed, might have won him an -honorable name in history."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And what has become of his son?" asked Jean Charost. "He was -attached, I think, to the court of the queen."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He left her," answered Jacques Cœur, "and came hither to Bourges -with Marie of Anjou, the wife of the dauphin, when that prince removed -from Melun to Bourges. You know somewhat of what happened after--how -his highness was driven hence to Poictiers, how negotiations took -place to reunite the royal family; how divided counsels, ambitions, -and jealousies prevented any thing like union against the real enemy -of France; how, step by step, the English king made himself master of -all the country, almost to the gates of Paris. You were present, I am -told, at the death of the Duke of Burgundy--shall I, or shall I not -call it murder? Well had he deserved punishment--well had he justified -almost any means to deliver France from the blasting influence of his -ambition. But at the very moment chosen for vengeance, he showed some -repentance for his past crimes, some inclination to atone, and perhaps -the very effects of his remorse placed his life in the hands of his -adversaries. Would to God that act had not been committed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And what has followed?" asked Jean Charost. "I have heard but little -since, except that at Arras a treaty was concluded by which the crown -of France was virtually transferred to the King of England on his -marriage with the Princess Catharine."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The scene is confused and indistinct," said Jacques Cœur, "like -the advance of a cloud overshadowing the land, and leaving all vague -and misty behind it. Far from serving the cause of the dauphin, far -from serving the cause of France, the death of the Duke of Burgundy -has produced unmitigated evil to all. His son has considered vengeance -rather than justice, the memory of his father, rather than the -happiness of his country. Leagued with the queen, and with the King of -England, he has sought nothing but the destruction of the dauphin, and -has seen the people of France swear allegiance to a foreign conqueror -whom his connivance enabled to triumph. From conquest to conquest the -King of England has gone on, till almost all the northern part of -France was his, and the River Loire is the boundary between two -distinct kingdoms. Here and there, indeed, a large town and a strong -fortress is possessed by one party in the districts where the other -dominates, and a border warfare is carried on along the banks of the -river. But for a long time previous to King Henry's death, fortune -seemed to follow wherever he trod, and the whole western as well as -northern parts of France were being gradually reduced beneath his -sway. During a short absence in England, indeed, a false promise of -success shone upon the arms of the dauphin. A re-enforcement of six -thousand men from Scotland enabled him to keep the field with success, -and the victory of Baugé, the death of the Duke of Clarence, and the -relief of Angers, gave hope to every loyal heart in France. Money, -indeed, was wanting, and I was straining every nerve to obtain for my -prince the means of carrying on the war, when the return of Henry, and -his rapid successes in Saintonge and the Limousin cut me off from a -large part of the resources I had calculated upon, and once more -plunged us all into despair. The last effort in arms was the siege of -Cone, on the Loire, garrisoned by the Burgundian troops. The dauphin -presented himself before its walls in person, and the Duke of Burgundy -marched to its relief, calling on his English allies for aid. Henry -was not slow to grant it, and set out from Senlis to show his -readiness and his friendship. Death struck him, it is true, by the -way; but even in death he seemed to conquer, and Cone was relieved as -he breathed his last at Vincennes. Happily have you escaped, De Brecy; -for had the Lord Willoughby received intimation of the king's dying -commands before he freed you, you would have lingered many a long year -in prison. Well knowing that the captives of Azincourt would afford -formidable support to the party of the dauphin as soon as liberated, -it has always been Henry's policy to detain them in London, and almost -his last words were an order not to set them free till his infant son -had attained his majority. You are the only one, I believe, above the -rank of a simple esquire who has been permitted to return to France."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I owe it all to this dear girl," answered Jean Charost, laying his -hand upon the little hand of Agnes. "She went to plead for me at a -happy moment. But where is the dauphin now? He needs the arm of every -gentleman in France, and I will not be long absent from his army."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Army!" said Jacques Cœur, with a melancholy shake of the head. -"Alas! De Brecy, he has no army. Dispirited, defeated, almost -penniless, seeing the fairest portions of his father's dominions in -the hands of an enemy--that father's name and authority used against -him--his own mother his most rancorous foe, the Duke of Burgundy at -the head of one army in the field, and the Duke of Bedford, hardly -inferior to the great Henry, leading another, he has retired, almost -hopeless, to the lonely Castle of Polignac; and strives, I am told, -but strives in vain, to forget the adversities of the past, and the -menaces of the future, in empty pleasures. An attempt must be made to -rouse him; but I can do nothing till I have obtained those means, -without which all action would be hopeless. To Paris I dare not -venture myself; but I have agents there, friends who will aid me, and -wealth locked up in many enterprises. Diligently have I labored during -the last month to gather all resources together; but still I linger on -in Bourges without receiving any answer to my numerous letters."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Can not I go to Paris?" asked Jean Charost. "You know, my friend of -old, that I want no diligence, and had once some skill in such -business as yours."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jacques Cœur paused thoughtfully, and then answered, "It might, -perhaps, be as well. You have been so long absent, your person would -be unknown. When could you set out?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost replied that he would go the very next day; and the -conversation was still proceeding upon these plans, when the sound of -a horse's feet was heard in the castle court, and in a minute or two -after, a tall, elderly weather-beaten man was brought in by Martin -Grille. Jean Charost looked at him, thinking that he recognized the -face of Armand Chauvin, the chevaucheur of the late Duke of Orleans; -but the man walked straight up to Jacques Cœur, put a letter in his -hand, and then turned his eyes to the ground, without giving one -glance to those around.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is good news, indeed," said Jacques, who had read the letter by -the light of a sconce. "A hundred thousand crowns, and two hundred -thousand more in a month! What with the money from Marseilles we may -do something yet. This is good news indeed!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have more news yet," said Chauvin, gravely. "Hark, in your ear, -Messire Jacques. I have hardly eaten or drank, and have not slept a -wink from the gates of Paris to Bourges, and Bourges hither, all to -bring you these tidings speedily. Hark in your ear!" and he whispered -something to Jacques Cœur. The other listened attentively, gave a -very slight start, and appeared somewhat, but not greatly moved.</p> - -<p class="normal">"God rest his soul!" he said, at length. "He has had a troublous -life--God rest his soul!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXIX.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Who has not heard of the beautiful Allier? Who has not heard -of the -magnificent Auvergne? But the horseman stopped not to gaze at the -mountains round him. He lingered not upon the banks of the stream; he -hardly gave more than a glance at the rich Limagne. At Clermont, -indeed, he halted for two whole hours, but it was an enforced halt, -for his horse broke down with hard riding, and all the time was spent -in purchasing another. A crust of bread and a cup of wine afforded the -only refreshment he himself took, and on he went through the vineyards -and the orchards, loaded with the last fruits of autumn. At Issoire he -gave his horse hay and water, and then rode on at great speed to -Lempole, but passed by its mighty basaltic rock, crowned with its -castle, though he looked up with feelings of interest and regret as he -connected it with the memory of Louis of Orleans. At Brioude he was -forced to pause for a while; but his horse fed readily, and on he went -again, out of the narrow streets of that straggling, disagreeable -town, over the mountains, through the valleys, with vast volcanic -forms all around him, and hamlets and villages built of the dark gray -lava, hardly distinguishable from the rocks on which they stood. More -than seventy miles he rode on straight from Clermont, and drew not a -rein between Brioude and Puy, which burst upon his sight suddenly on -the eastern declivity of the mountains, with its rich, unrivaled -amphitheatre, and its three rivers flowing away at the foot. The sun -was within a hand's breadth of the horizon. All the valleys seen from -that elevation were flooded with light; the old cathedral itself -looked like a resplendent amethyst, and devout pilgrims to the -miraculous shrine still crowded the streets, some turning on their way -homeward, some mounting the innumerable steps to say one prayer more -at the feet of the Virgin.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost rode straight up to the little old inn--small and -miserable as compared with many of the vast buildings appropriated in -those days to the reception of the traveler in France, and still -smaller in proportion to the number of devout persons who daily -flocked into the city. But then the landlord argued that the pilgrims -came for grace, and not for good living, and that therefore the body -must put up with what it could get, if the soul was taken care of. -Jean passed under the archway into the court-yard, gave his horse to -an hostler of precisely the same stamp as the man who afforded a type -to Shakspeare, and then, turning back toward the street, met the host -in the doorway, prepared to tell him that he must wait long for -supper, and put up with a garret.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I want nothing at present, my good friend," replied Jean Charost, -"but a cup of wine, which is ready at all times, and some one to show -me my way on foot to Espaly. Indeed, I should not have turned in here -at all, but that my horse could go no further."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, sir," cried the host, with his civility and curiosity both -awakened together; "so you are going to see Monseigneur le Dauphin? -News now, I warrant, and good, I hope--pray, what is it?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Excellent good," replied Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"First, that a thirsty man talks ill with a dry mouth; and, secondly, -that a wise man never gives his message except to the person it is -sent to. The dauphin will be delighted with these tidings; and so now -give me a cup of wine, and some one to show me the way."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha, you are a wag!" said the landlord; "but harkee, sir; you had -better take my mule. It will be ready while I am drawing the wine, and -you drinking it. Though they say, 'Espaly, near Puy,' it is not so -near as they call it. My boy shall go with you on a quick-trotting ass -to bring back the mule."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And the news," said Jean Charost, "if he can get it. So be it, -however; for, good sooth! I am tired. I have not slept a wink for -six-and-thirty hours; but let them make all haste."</p> - -<p class="normal">"As quick as an avalanche, sir," said the landlord; "and God speed -you, if you bring good news to our noble prince. He loves wine and -women, and is exceedingly devout to the blessed Virgin of Puy; so all -men should wish him well, and all ladies too."</p> - -<p class="normal">The landlord did really make haste, and in less than ten minutes Jean -Charost was on his way to Espaly, along a sort of natural volcanic -causeway which paves the bottom of the deep valley. The sun was behind -the hills, but still a cool and pleasant light was spread over the -sky, and the towers of the old castle, with their many weather-cocks, -and a banner displayed on the top of the donjon, rising high above the -little village at the foot of the rock, seemed to catch some of the -last rays of the sun, and</p> -<div style="margin-left:10%; font-size:10pt"> -<pre> - "Flash back again the western blaze, - In lines of dazzling light." -</pre> -</div> - -<p class="normal">The ascent was steep, however, and longer than the young gentleman had -expected. It was dim twilight when he approached the gates, but there -was little guard kept around this last place of refuge of the son of -France. Nested in the mountains of Auvergne, with a long, expanse of -country between him and his enemies, Charles had no fear of attack. -The gates were wide open, not a solitary sentinel guarded the way, and -Jean Charost rode into the court-yard, looking round in vain for some -one to address. Not a soul was visible. He heard the sound of a lute, -and a voice singing from one of the towers, and a merry peal of -laughter from a long, low building on the right of the great court; -but besides this there was nothing to show that the castle was -inhabited, till, just as he was dismounting, a page, gayly tricked out -in blue and silver, crossed from one tower toward another, with a -bird-cage in his hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ho, boy!" cried Jean Charost; "can you tell me where I shall find the -servant of Mademoiselle De St. Geran; or can you tell her yourself -that the Seigneur de Brecy wishes to speak with her?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come with me, come with me, Beau Sire," said the boy, with all the -flippant gayety of a page. "I am going to her with this bird from his -highness; and this castle is the abode of liberty and joy. All iron -coats and stiff habitudes have been cast down in the chapel, and a vow -against idle ceremony is made by every one under the great gate."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, lead on," said Jean Charost "My business might well -abridge ceremony, if any did exist. Wait here till I return," he -continued, speaking to the innkeeper's son; and then followed the page -upon his way.</p> - -<p class="normal">The tower to which the boy led him was a building of considerable -size, although it looked diminutive by the side of the great donjon, -which towered above, and with which it was connected by a long -gallery, in a sort of traverse commanding the entrance of the outer -gate. The door stood open, as most of the other doors throughout the -place, leading into an old vaulted passage, from the middle of which -rose a narrow and steep stair-case of gray stone. A rope was twisted -round the pillar on which the stair-case turned; and it was somewhat -necessary at that moment, for, to say sooth, both passage and -stair-case were as dark as Acheron. Feeling his way, the boy ascended -till he came to a door on the first floor of the tower, which he -opened without ceremony. The interior of the room which this sudden -movement displayed, though darkness was fast falling over the earth, -was clear and light compared with the shadowy air of the stair-case, -and Jean Charost could see, seated thoughtfully at the window, that -lovely and never-to-be-forgotten form which he had last beheld at -Monterreau. Agnes Sorel either did not hear the opening of the door, -or judged that the comer was one of the ordinary attendants of the -place, for she remained motionless, plunged in deep meditation, with -her eyes raised to a solitary star, the vanward leader of the host of -heaven, which was becoming brighter and brighter every moment, as it -rose high above the black masses of the Anis Mountains.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Madam, here is a bird for you which his highness has sent," said the -page, abruptly. "Some say it is a nightingale; and, though his coat is -not fine, he sings deliciously."</p> - -<p class="normal">Agnes Sorel turned as the boy spoke, but she looked not at him, or the -cage, or the bird, for her eyes instantly rested upon the figure of -Jean Charost, as he advanced toward her, apologizing for his -intrusion. Though what light there was fell full upon him through the -open window, it was too dark for her to distinguish his features; but -his voice she knew as soon as he spoke, though she had heard it -but rarely. Yet there are some sounds which linger in the ear of -memory--echoes of the past, as it were--which instantly carry us -back to other days, and recall circumstances, thoughts, and feelings -long gone by, with a brightness which needs no eye to see them but -the eye of the mind. The voice of Jean Charost was a very peculiar -voice--soft, and full, and mellow, but rounded and distinct, like the -tones of an organ, possessing--if such a thing be permitted me to -say--a melody in itself.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Monsieur de Brecy!" she exclaimed, "I am rejoiced to see you here--no -longer a prisoner, I hope--no longer seeking ransom, but a free man. -But what brings you to this remote corner of the earth? Some generous -motive, doubtless. Patriotism, perhaps, and love of your prince. Alas! -De Brecy, patriotism finds cold welcome where pleasure reigns alone; -and as to love--would to God your prince loved himself as others love -him!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"What shall I say to his highness, madam?" asked the boy, whom she had -hardly noticed; "what shall I say about the bird?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Tell him," replied Agnes, rising quickly from her seat--"tell him -that if I am a good instructor, I will teach that bird to sing a song -which shall rouse all France in arms--Ay, little as it is, and feeble -as may be its voice, I am not more powerful, my voice is not more -strong; and yet--I hope--I hope--Get thee gone, boy. Tell his highness -what I have said--tell him what you will--say I am half mad, if it -please you; for so I am, to sit here idly looking at that mountain and -that star, and to think that the banners of England are waving -triumphant over the bloody fields of France. Well, De Brecy--well," -she continued, as the boy retired and closed the door. "What news from -the court of the conquerors? What news from the proud city of London? -We have lost our Henry; but we have got a John in exchange. What -matters Christian names in these unchristian times? A Plantagenet is a -Plantagenet; and they are an iron race to deal with, which requires -more steel, I fear, than we have left in France."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My news, dear lady," replied Jean Charost, "is not from London, but -from Paris."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, what of Paris, then?" asked Agnes Sorel, in an indifferent -tone, taking another seat partly turned from the window. "Let me ask -you to ring that bell upon the table. It is growing dark--we must have -lights. One star is not enough, bright as it may be--even the star of -love--one star is not enough to give us light in this darksome world."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost rang the bell; but ere any attendant could appear, he -said, hurriedly, "Dear lady, listen to me for one moment: I bring -important news."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good or bad?" asked Agnes Sorel, quickly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"One half is unmingled good," answered Jean Charost; "the other is of -a mixed nature, full of hope, yet alloyed with sorrow."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Even that is better than any we have lately had," replied Agnes. -"Nevertheless, I am a woman, De Brecy, and fond of joy. Give me the -unmingled first: we will temper it hereafter."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, dear lady, I am sent to tell his highness, from our good -friend Jacques Cœur, that a hundred thousand crowns of the sun are -by this time waiting his pleasure at Moulins, and that two hundred -thousand more will be there in one month."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Joy, joy," cried Agnes, clasping her hands; "oh, this is joyful -indeed! But then," she added, "Heaven send that it be used aright. I -fear--oh, I fear--Nay, nay, I will fear no more! It is undeserved -misfortune crushes the noble heart, bows the brave spirit, and takes -its energy away from greatness. Have you told him, De Brecy? What did -he say? How did he look? Not with light joy, I hope; but with grave, -expectant satisfaction, as a prince should look who finds his people's -deliverance nigher than he thought."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have not seen him," replied De Brecy, "first, because I knew not -well how to gain admission, and, secondly, because I wished that you -should have the opportunity of telling him of a change of fortunes, -hoping--knowing that you would direct his first impulses aright."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I--I?" exclaimed Agnes. "Oh, De Brecy, De Brecy, I am unworthy of -such a task! How should I direct any one aright? Yet it matters not -what I be--Weak, frail, faulty as I am--the courage and resolution, -the energy and purpose, which once possessed me solely, shall, all -that is left, be given to him and to France. One error shall not blot -out all that is good in my nature. Ha! here come the lights--"</p> - -<p class="normal">She paused for a moment or two, while the servant entered, placed -lights upon the table, and retired; and then, in a much calmer tone, -resumed the discourse.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have been much moved to-day," she said, "but even this brief pause -of thought has been sufficient to show me the right way--Lights, you -have done me service," she added, with a graceful smile. "Come, De -Brecy, I will lead you to her who alone is worthy, and fitted to give -these good tidings--to my friend--to my dear good friend--the -princess, his wife."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But you have forgotten," replied Jean Charost. "I have other tidings -to tell."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha!" she said, "and those mingled--I did forget, indeed. Say what it -is, De Brecy. We must not raise up hopes to dash them down again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That will not be the effect," said De Brecy. "The news I have is sad, -yet full of hope. That which has been wanting on the side of his -highness and of France, in this terrible struggle against foreign -enemies and internal traitors, has been the king's name. In his -powerless incapacity, the mighty influence of the monarch's authority -has been arrayed against the friends, and for the foes of France. Dear -lady, it will be so no more!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No more!" exclaimed Agnes, eagerly, and with her whole face lighting -up. "Has he been snatched from their hands, then? Tell me, De Brecy, -how? when? where? But you look grave, nay, sad. Is the king dead?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Charles the Sixth is dead," answered De Brecy. "But Charles the -Seventh lives to deliver France."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay--stay," said Agnes Sorel, seating herself again, and putting her -hand thoughtfully to her brow. "Poor king--poor man! May the grave -give him peace! Oh, what a life was his, De Brecy! Full of high -qualities and kindly feelings, born to the throne of the finest realm -in all the world, adored by his people, how bright were once his -prospects! and who would ever have thought that the life thus begun -would be passed in misery, madness, sickness, and neglect--that his -power should be used for his own destruction--his name lead his -enemies to battle against his son--his wife contemn, despise, and ill -treat him, and his daughter wed his bitterest foe--that he should only -wake from his insane trances to see his kinsmen murder and be murdered -before his face, all his sons but one passing to the tomb before -him--perchance by poison--and that he himself should follow before he -reached old age, without that tendance in his lingering sickness that -a common mechanic receives from tenderness, the beggar from charity? -Oh, what a destiny!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"We might well weep for his life," said De Brecy; "but we can not -mourn his death. To him it was a blessing; to France it may be -deliverance. This news, however, you have now to carry to the king."</p> - -<p class="normal">"True, true," cried Agnes; but then she paused a moment, and repeated -his last words with a thoughtful and anxious look. "To the king!" she -said; "to the king! No, I will take it to the queen, De Brecy. Come -you with me, in case of question, and to receive those honors and -rewards which are meet for him who brings such tidings. Ay, let us -speak it plainly--such good tidings. For on these few words, 'Charles -the Sixth is dead,' depends, I do believe, the salvation of our -France."</p> - -<p class="normal">As she spoke, she rose and moved toward the door, and De Brecy -followed her down the stair-case, and through the long passage which -connected the tower with the donjon. The yellow autumn moon peeped up -above the hills, and poured its light upon them through the tall -windows as they went. There was a solemn feeling in their hearts which -prevented them from uttering a word. The way was somewhat lengthy, but -at last Agnes stopped before a door and knocked. The sweet voice of -Marie of Anjou bade them come in, and Agnes opened the door.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, my Agnes," cried the princess, "have you come to cheer me? I know -not how it is, but I have felt very sad to-night. I have been -moralizing, dear girl, and thinking how much happier I should have -been had we possessed nothing but this castle and the demesne around, -mere lords of a little patrimony, instead of seeing kingdoms called -our own, but to be snatched away from us. France seems going the way -of Sicily, my Agnes. But who is this you have with you? His face seems -known to me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have seen him once before, madam," said Agnes. "He is the bringer -of great tidings; but no lips but mine must give them to my queen;" -and, advancing gracefully, she knelt at the feet of Marie of Anjou, -and kissed her hand, saying, "Madam, you are Queen of France. His -majesty, Charles the Sixth, has departed."</p> - -<p class="normal">The queen stood as one stupefied; for so often had the unfortunate -king been reported ill, and then recovered, so little was known of his -real state beyond the walls of the Hôtel St. Pol, and so slow was the -progress of information in that part of France, that not a suspicion -of the impending event had been entertained in the château of Espaly. -After gazing in the face of Agnes for a moment, she cast down her eyes -to the ground, remained for a brief space in deep thought, and then -exclaimed, "But, after all, what is he? A king almost without -provisions, a general without an army, a ruler without power or means. -Rise, rise, dear Agnes;" and, casting her arms round her neck, Marie -of Anjou shed tears. They were certainly not tears of sorrow for the -departed, for she knew little of the late king; we do not even know -from history that she had ever seen him; but all sudden emotions must -have voice, generally in laughter, or in tears. It has been very -generally remarked that joy has its tears as well as sorrow; but few -have ever scanned deeply the fountain-source from which those drops -arise. Is it not that, like those of a sealed fountain unconsciously -opened, they burst forth at once, to sparkle, perhaps, in the sunshine -of the hour, but yet bear with them a certain chilliness from the -depths out of which they arise?</p> - -<p class="normal">Marie of Anjou recovered herself speedily, and Agnes Sorel, rising -from her knee, held out her hand to Jean Charost, and presented him to -the queen, saying, "He brings you happier tidings, madam--tidings -which, I trust, may give power to the sceptre just fallen into his -majesty's hand; ay, and edge his sword to smite his enemies when they -least expect it. By the skill and by the zeal of one I may venture to -call your friend as well as mine--noble Jacques Cœur--the means -which have been so long wanting to make at least one generous effort -on behalf of France, are now secured. Speak, De Brecy--speak, and tell -her majesty the joyful news you bear."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young gentleman told his tale simply and well; and when he had -concluded, the queen, with all traces of sorrow passed away, -exclaimed, "Let us hasten quick, dear Agnes, and carry the news to my -husband! There be some men fitted for prosperity, and he is one. -Misfortune depresses him; but this news will restore him all his -energies. Oh, this castle of Espaly! It has seemed to me a dungeon of -the spirit, where chains were cast around the soul, and the fair -daylight of hope came but as a ray through the loophole of a cell. -Come with me--come with me, my friends! I need no attendants but you -two."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost raised a light from the table and opened the door, then -followed along the dark passages till they reached a small hall upon -the ground-floor, which the queen entered without waiting for -announcement or permission. Her light step roused no one within from -his occupation, and the whole scene was before her eyes ere any one -engaged in it was aware of her presence. She might, perhaps, have seen -another, less tranquil to look upon. At a table under a sconce, in one -corner of the room, sat a young man reading the contents of a book -richly illuminated. His cap and plume were thrown down by his side, -his sword was cast upon a bench near, and his head was bent over the -volume, with his eyes eagerly fixed upon the page, deciphering, -probably with difficulty, the words which it presented. In another -corner of the room, far removed from the light, and with his shoulders -supported by the angle of the building, sat Tanneguy du Châtel, sound -asleep, but with his heavy sword resting on his knees, and his left -hand lying upon the scabbard. Nearer to the windows--some seven paces -probably in advance--stood a boy dressed as a page, looking at what -was going on at a table before him, but not venturing to approach too -near. At that table, with a large candelabra in the centre, sat a -young gentleman of powerful frame, though still a mere lad, with a -slight mustache on the upper lip, and his strong black hair curling -round his forehead and temples. On the opposite side of the table, -nearest to the page, was Charles the Seventh himself. He was the only -one in the room who wore his cap and plume, and to the eyes of Jean -Charost--whether from prepossession or not, I can not tell--there -seemed an air of dignity and grace about his youthful figure which -well befitted the monarch. The thoughts of France, however, were -evidently far away, and his whole attention seemed directed to the -narrow board before him, on which he was playing at chess with his -cousin, the after-celebrated Dunois.</p> - -<p class="normal">Still the step of the queen and her companions did not rouse him: his -whole soul seemed in the move he was about to make, and it was not -till they were close by that he even looked round.</p> - -<p class="normal">Even then he did not speak, but turned his eyes upon the game again, -and in the end moved his knight so as to protect the king.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is a good move," said his wife, taking a step forward; "but some -such move must be made speedily, my lord, upon a wider board." Then, -bending her knee, she added, "God save his majesty, King Charles the -Seventh!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Charles started up, nearly overturning the board, and deranging all -the pieces. "What is it, Marie?" he asked, looking almost aghast; but -Agnes Sorel and Jean Charost knelt at the same time, saying, "God save -your majesty! He has done his will with your late father."</p> - -<p class="normal">Up started Dunois, and waved his hand in the air, exclaiming, "God -save the king!" and the other three in the chamber pressed around, -repeating the same cry.</p> - -<p class="normal">Charles stood in the midst, gazing gravely on the different faces -about him, then slowly drew his sword from the scabbard, and laid it -on the table, saying, in a calm, thoughtful, resolute tone, "Once -more!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XL.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">How the news spread through the castle, I know not; but -Charles VII. -had hardly recovered from the first surprise of the intelligence when, -without waiting for permission or ceremony, all whose station -justified their admission to the presence of the prince crowded into -the little hall of Espaly. A bright and beautiful sight it presented -at that moment; for it was a court of youth and beauty, and not more -than two or three persons present had seen thirty years of age. Hope -and enthusiasm was in every countenance, and the heavy beams of the -vault rang with the cries of "Long live the king."</p> - -<p class="normal">The bearer of the intelligence which had caused the acclamation seemed -likely to be altogether forgotten by the monarch in the gratulations -which poured upon him; but some bold, frank words of the young and -heroic lord of La Hire gave to generous Agnes Sorel an opportunity of -calling the attention of Charles to Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, God save the king!" cried La Hire, warmly; "and send him some -more crowns in his purse to secure the one upon his head."</p> - -<p class="normal">Agnes whispered something to the young queen, and Marie of Anjou -turned gracefully toward De Brecy, saying, "This gentleman, my lord, -has something to tell your majesty on that score."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is the messenger of all good tidings, sir," urged Agnes Sorel; -"but perhaps your majesty forgets him. He was the trusted friend of -your uncle of Orleans; he was wounded and made prisoner at Azincourt, -and his first steps upon French ground after his liberation brings you -tidings of dignity, and the promise of success. Speak, Monsieur De -Brecy. Tell his majesty the good news you have in store."</p> - -<p class="normal">Charles VII. fixed his eyes upon Jean Charost, and a shade came over -his face--not of displeasure, indeed, but of deep melancholy. It is -probable the memories awakened by the sight, as soon as he recognized -him, were very sorrowful. The bloody bridge of Monterreau, the dying -Duke of Burgundy, and all the fearful acts of a day never to be -forgotten, came back to memory; but the impression was but momentary; -and when he heard the tidings which the young gentleman bore of -present relief, and of the prospect of large future supplies, and was -made aware that he had also brought the news of his being King of -France, he smiled graciously upon him, saying, "How can we reward you, -Monsieur De Brecy? Few kings have less means than we have."</p> - -<p class="normal">At that moment, Tanneguy du Châtel--to whose disinterested character -history, dwelling on his faults, has not done full justice--came -forward, and laid his hand upon Jean Charost's shoulder, saying, "Give -him St. Florent, sir; which we were talking of the other day. Its lord -not having appeared for fully fifteen years, the fief has clearly -fallen into the demesne of the crown."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But I promised, Du Châtel," said Charles, turning toward him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Never mind that, sire," said Du Châtel, bluffly. "I do not want it. -De Brecy here has served the crown well, and suffered for his -services. So did his father before him, I have been told. He brings -you good tidings--good tidings for France also, I do hope. Give him -the fief, sir. If I had it, every one would be jealous. No one will be -jealous of him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, so be it," replied Charles. "The town and castle of St. -Florent, near Bourges, Monsieur De Brecy, shall be yours; but, by my -faith, you must keep them well; for the place is of importance, -commanding the supplies at Bourges. The letters of concession shall be -ready for you to-morrow, and you can do homage before you go, if you -will but stay at our court for a few days."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must stay here, sire or at Puy, for the arrival of Messire Jacques -Cœur," replied Jean Charost. "He has many another scheme for your -majesty's service. In St. Florent I will do my duty, and I humbly -thank you much for the gift."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay here, stay here," said Charles; and then he added, with a faint -and melancholy smile, "Our court is not so large as to fill even the -Castle of Espaly to overflowing. Some one see that he is well cared -for. And now, lords and ladies, other things are to be thought of. My -first thought, so help me Heaven, has been of France, and of what -benefit the event which has just happened may prove to her. But I can -not forget that I have lost a father, a kind and noble prince, whom -God has visited with long and sore afflictions, but who never lost the -love of his people or his son. I do believe, from all that I have -heard, that death was to him a blessing and relief; but still I must -mourn that so sad and joyless a life has ended without one gleam of -hope or happiness, even at the close. I had hoped that it might be -otherwise, that my sword might have freed him from the durance in -which he has been so long kept; that my care and love might have -soothed his latest hours. It has been ordered otherwise, and God's -will be done. But all to-morrow we will give up to solemn mourning, -and the next day take counsel as to instant action."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he took the hand of the queen in his own, and was -retiring from the room, the group around him only moving to give him -passage, except one gentleman, who sprang to open the door. Two -persons were left in the midst of the little crowd, not exactly -isolated, but in circumstances of some awkwardness. Agnes Sorel, -notwithstanding all her influence at the court, notwithstanding all -her power over the mind of the young king, felt that the bonds between -herself and those who now surrounded her were very slight, and that -there were jealousies and dislikes toward her in the bosoms of many -present. But she was relieved from a slight embarrassment by the -unvarying kindness of Marie of Anjou. Ere Charles and herself had -taken six steps through the hall, the queen turned her head, saying, -with a placid smile, "Come with us, Agnes. I shall want you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Marvelous, truly!" said a lady standing near Jean Charost, speaking -in a low tone, as if to herself. "Were I a queen, methinks I would -have the vengeance Heaven sends me, even if I did not seek some for -myself."</p> - -<p class="normal">At the same moment, Tanneguy du Châtel laid his hand upon Jean -Charost's arm: "You must come with me, De Brecy," he said. "You shall -be my guest in the château. I have room enough there where I lodge. -Wait but a moment till I speak a word or two with these good lords. We -must not let the tide of good fortune ebb again unimproved. The royal -name alone is a great thing for us; but it may be made to have a -triple effect--upon our enemies, upon our friends, and upon the king -himself. By my life, this is no time to throw one card out of one's -hand."</p> - -<p class="normal">He then spoke for several minutes in a low tone with Dunois, La Hire, -Louvet, and others, and, returning to the side of Jean Charost, led -him down to the outer court, on his way to that part of the building -which he himself inhabited. There, patiently waiting by the side of -the mule, they found the son of the landlord at Puy. The boy was -dismissed speedily, well satisfied, with directions to send up the -young gentleman's horse to the castle the next morning; and the rest -of the evening was spent by Jean Charost and Tanneguy du Châtel almost -alone. It was not an evening of calm, however; for the excitable -spirit of the <i>prévôt</i>; was much moved with all that had passed, and -with his prompt and eager impetuosity he commented, not alone upon the -news that had been received, but upon all their probable consequences. -Often he would start up and pace the room in a deep revery, and often -he would question his young companion upon details into which the king -himself had forgotten to inquire.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The happy moment must not be lost," he said. "The happy moment must -not be lost. The young king's mind must be kept up to the tone which -it has received by this intelligence. Would to Heaven I could insure -half an hour's conversation with the fair Agnes, just to show her all -the consequences of the first great step. But I do not like to ask it; -and, after all, she needs no prompting. She is a glorious creature, De -Brecy. Heart and soul, with her, are given to France."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yet there be some," said Jean Charost; "some, even in this court, who -seem not very well disposed toward her. Did you hear what was said by -a lady near me just now?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, Joan of Vendôme," cried Tanneguy, with a laugh; "she is a -prescribed railer at our fair friend. She came to Poictiers two years -ago, fancying herself a perfect paragon of beauty, and making up her -mind to become the dauphin's mistress; but he would have naught to say -to her faded charms--not even out of courtesy to her husband; so the -poor thing is full of spleen, and would kill the beautiful Agnes, if -she dared. She is too cowardly for that, however: at least I trust -so."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost meditated deeply over his companion's words, and whither -his thoughts had led him might be perceived by what he next said.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Strange," he murmured, "very strange, the conduct of the queen!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, strange enough," answered Du Châtel. "We have here, within this -little château of Espaly, De Brecy, two women such as the world has -rarely ever seen, both young, both beautiful, both gentle. The one has -all the courage, the intellect, the vigor of a man; and yet, as we -see, a woman's weakness. The other is tender, timid, kind, and loving, -and yet without one touch of that selfishness which prompts to what we -call jealousy. By the Lord, De Brecy, it has often puzzled me, this -conduct of Marie of Anjou. I do believe I could, as readily as any -man, sacrifice myself to the happiness of one I love;<a name="div4Ref_03" href="#div4_03"><sup>[3]</sup></a> -but I could -not make a friend of my wife's lover. There are things too much for -nature--for human nature, at least. But this girl--her majesty, I -mean--seems to me quite an angel; and the other does, I will say, all -that a fallen and repentant angel could to retain the friendship which -she fears she may have forfeited. All that deference, and reverence, -and humble, firm attachment can effect to wash away her offense, she -uses toward the queen; and I do believe, from my very heart, that no -counsel ever given by Agnes Sorel to Marie of Anjou has any other -object upon earth but Marie's happiness. Still, it is all very -strange, and the less we say about it the better."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost thought so likewise; but that conversation brought upon -him fits of thought which lasted, with more or less interruption, -during the whole evening.</p> - -<p class="normal">Society, in almost every country, has its infancy, its youth, its -maturity, and its old age. At least, such has been the case hitherto. -These several acts of life are of longer or shorter duration, -according to circumstances, but the several epochs are usually -sufficiently marked The age in which Jean Charost spoke was not one of -that fine, moralizing tendency which belongs to the maturity of life; -but it was one of passion and of action, of youth, activity, and -indiscretion. Nevertheless, feeling often supplied a guide where -reason failed, and from some cause Jean Charost felt pained that he -could not find one character among those who surrounded him -sufficiently pure and high to command and obtain his whole esteem. He -asked himself that painful question which so often recurs to us ere we -have obtained from experience, as well as reason, a knowledge of man's -mixed nature, "Is there such a thing as virtue, and truth, and honor -upon earth?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The next day was passed as a day of mourning; but on the following -morning early, all the nobles in the castle of Espaly met together in -the great hall, and some eager consultations went on among them. There -were smiles, and gay looks, and many a lively jest, and lances were -brought in, and bucklers examined, as if for a tournament.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost asked his companion, Du Châtel, the meaning of all that -they beheld; and the other replied, with a grave smile, "Merely a -boy's frolic; but one which may have important consequences."</p> - -<p class="normal">A moment after, the young king himself, habited in scarlet, entered -the hall, followed by a number of the ladies and gentlemen of the -court, and received gracefully and graciously the greetings of his -subjects. But an instant after, La Hire and two or three others -surrounded and pressed upon him so closely, that Jean Charost thought -they were showing scanty reverence toward the king, when suddenly a -voice exclaimed, "Pardon us, sire;" and in an instant spears were -crossed, a shield cast down upon them, and the young monarch lifted to -a throne which might have befitted one of the predecessors of -Charlemagne. Dunois seized a banner embroidered with the arms of -France, and moving on through the doors of the hall into the chapel, -the banner was waved three times in the air, and the voices of all -present made the roof ring with the shout of, "Long live King Charles -the Seventh!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Almost at the same time, another personage was added to the group -around the altar, and Jacques Cœur himself repeated heartily the -cry, adding, "I have brought with me, sire--at least, so I trust--the -means to make you King of France, indeed. It is here in this château, -and all safe."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thanks, thanks, my good friend," said the young king. "We must take -counsel together how it may be used to the best advantage; and our -deep gratitude shall follow the service, whatever be the result of the -use we make of it. And now, lords and ladies, to Poictiers -immediately--ay, to-morrow morning, to be solemnly crowned in the -Cathedral there. That city, at least, we can call our own, and there -we will deliberate how to recover others."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">What a wild whirlpool is history, and how strange it is to -gaze upon -it, and to see the multitudes of atoms that every instant are rushing -forward upon the whirling and struggling waters of Time, borne -fiercely along by causes that they know not, but obey--now catching -the light, now plunged into darkness, agitated, tossed to and fro, -turned round in giddy dance, and at length swallowed up in the deep -centre of the vortex where all things disappear! It is a strange, a -terrible, but a salutary contemplation. No sermon that was ever -preached, no funeral oration ever spoken, shows so plainly, brings -home to the heart so closely, the emptiness of all human things, -the idleness of ambition, the folly of avarice, the weakness of -vanity, and the meanness of pride, as the sad and solemn aspect of -history--the record of deeds that have produced nothing, and passions -that have been all in vain. But there is a Book from which all these -things will at one time be read; and then, how awful will be the final -results disclosed!</p> - -<p class="normal">To men who make history, however, while floating round in that vortex, -and tending onward, amid all their struggles, to the one inevitable -doom, how light and easy is the transition, how imperceptible the -diminution of the circle, as onward, onward they are carried--how -rapid, especially in times of great activity, is the passage of event -into event. Time seems to stop in the heat of action, and energy, like -the prophet, exclaims, "Sun, stand thou still upon Gibeon; and thou, -Moon, in the valley of Ajalon!"</p> - -<p class="normal">It seemed to Jean Charost--after several years had passed--but as a -day and a night since he had left Agnes and his mother in the château -of Brecy, near Bourges. Each day had had its occupation, each hour its -thought: the one had glided into the other, and one deed trod so -hastily upon the steps of another that there was no opportunity to -count the time. And yet so many great events had happened that one -would have thought the hours upon the dial were marked sufficiently. -He had taken part in battles, he had been employed in negotiations, he -had navigated one of the many armed vessels, now belonging to Jacques -Cœur, upon the Mediterranean, in search of fresh resources for -his king; and one of those lulls had taken place at the court of -France--those periods of idle inactivity which occasionally intervened -between fierce struggles against the foreign enemy, or factious cabals -among the courtiers themselves. He took his way from Poictiers toward -Bourges, to fulfill the promise he had often made to himself of -returning, at least for a time, to those he loved with unabated -fondness; and as he went, he thought with joy of his dear mother just -as he left her--not knowing that her hair was now as white as snow; -and his dear little Agnes--forgetting that she was no longer a mere -bright girl of fourteen years of age.</p> - -<p class="normal">But Jean Charost now no longer appeared as a poor youth struggling to -redeem his father's encumbered estates, nor as a soldier followed to -battle by a mere handful of followers. His train was strong and -numerous. The lands of St. Florent, so near his own castle and the -town of Bourges as to be under easy control of an intendant, had -furnished not only ample revenues but hardy soldiers, and with a troop -of some sixty mounted men, all joyful, like himself, to return for a -period to their homes, he rode gladly onward, a powerful man in full -maturity, with a scarred brow and sun-burned face, but, with the rich -brown curls of his hair hardly streaked with gray, except where the -casque had somewhat pressed upon it, and brought the wintery mark -before its time. But it was in the expression of his countenance that -youth was most strongly apparent still. There were no hard lines, no -heavy wrinkles. There was gravity, for he had never been of what is -called a very merry disposition, but it was--if I may be allowed an -expression which, at first sight, seems to imply a contradiction--it -was a cheerful gravity, more cheerful than it had been in years long -past. Success had brightened him; experience of the world and the -world's things had rubbed off the rust that seclusion, and study, and -hard application had engendered; and a kind, a generous, and an -upright heart gave sunshine to his look.</p> - -<p class="normal">The country through which he passed was all peaceful: the troops of -England had not yet passed the Loire; the Duke of Bedford was in -England, and his lieutenants showed themselves somewhat negligent -during his absence. After the fiercest struggle, the spirit of the -Frenchman soon recovers breath; and in riding from Poictiers to -Bourges, one might have fancied that the land had never known strife -and contention--that all was peace, prosperity, and joy. There was the -village dance upon the green; there was the gay inn, with its well-fed -host, and his quips, and jests, and merry tales; the marriage-bells -rang out; the procession of the clergy moved along the streets, and -there was song in the vineyard and the field.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was an evening in the bright, warm summer, when the last day's -march but one came toward an end; and on a small height rising from -the banks of the Cher, with a beautiful village at its foot, and woods -sweeping round it on three sides, appeared the old castle of St. -Florent, where Jean Charost was to halt for the night, and journey on -to De Brecy the following day. It was a pleasant feeling to his heart -that he was coming once more upon his own land; and there above, -upon the great round tower--for it was a very ancient building even -then--floated a flag which bore, he doubted not, the arms of De Brecy. -Just as he was passing one of the curious old bridges over the Cher, -with its narrow, pointed arches, and massy, ivy-covered piers, a flash -broke from the walls of the tower, and a moment after the report of a -cannon was heard.</p> - -<p class="normal">"They see us coming, and are giving us welcome, De Bigny," said Jean -Charost, turning to one of his companions who rode near. "Oh, 'tis -pleasant to enjoy one's own in peace. Would to Heaven these wars were -over! I am well weary of them."</p> - -<p class="normal">They rode on toward the slope, and entered a sort of elbow of the -wood, where the dark oak-trees, somewhat browned by the summer sun, -stretched their long branches overhead, and made a pleasant shade. It -was a sweet, refreshing scene, where the eye could pierce far through -the bolls of the old trees, catching here and there a mass of gray -rock, a piece of rich green sward, a sparkling rivulet dashing down to -meet the Cher, a low hermitate, with a stone cross raised in front, -and two old men, with their long, snowy beards, retreating beneath the -shady archway at the sight of a troop of armed men.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is pleasant," said De Brecy, still speaking to his companion; -"but to-morrow will afford things still pleasanter. The face of Nature -is very beautiful, but not so beautiful as the faces of those we -love."</p> - -<p class="normal">A hundred steps further, and the gates of the old castle appeared in -view, crenelated and machicolated, with its two large flanking-towers, -and the walls running off and losing themselves behind the trees. But -there was the flutter of women's garments under the arch, as well as -the gleam of arms. The heart of De Brecy beat high, and, dashing on -before the rest, he was soon upon the draw-bridge.</p> - -<p class="normal">It is rarely that Fortune comes to meet our hopes. Hard -school-mistress! She lessons man's impatience by delay. But there they -were--his mother and little Agnes, as he still called her. The change -in both was that which time usually makes in the old and in the young; -and with old Madame De Brecy we will pass it over, for it had no -consequences. But upon the changes in Agnes it may be necessary to -pause somewhat longer. From the elderly to the old woman, the -transition is easy, and presents nothing remarkable. From the child to -the young woman the step is more rapid--more distinct and strange. -There is something in us which makes us comprehend decay better than -development.</p> - -<p class="normal">Agnes, who, up to the period when Jean Charost last beheld her, had -been low of stature, though beautifully formed, seemed to have grown -up like a lily in a night, and was now taller than Madame De Brecy. -But it was not only in height that she had gained: her whole form had -altered, and assumed a symmetry as delicate, but very different from -that which it had displayed before. Previously, she had looked what -Jean Charost had been fond to call her--a little fairy; but now, -though she might have a fairy's likeness, still there was no doubting -that she was a woman. Beautiful, wonderfully beautiful, she was to the -eyes of Jean Charost; but yet there was something sorrowful in the -change. The dear being of his memory was gone forever, and he had not -yet had time to become reconciled to the change. He felt he could not -caress, he could not fondle her as he had done before--that he could -be to her no longer what he had been; and he dreamed not of ever -becoming aught else.</p> - -<p class="normal">Strange to say, Agnes seemed to feel the change far less than he did. -Indeed, she saw no change in him. His cheek might be a little browner; -the scar upon his brow was new; but yet he was the same Jean Charost -whom she had loved from infancy, and she perceived no trace of Time's -hand upon his face or person. She had not yet learned to turn her eyes -upon herself, and the alteration in him was so slight, she did not -mark it. She sprang to meet him, even before his mother, held up her -cheek for his first kiss, and gazed at him with a look of affection -and tenderness, while he pressed Madame De Brecy to his heart, which -might have misled any beholder who knew not the course of their former -lives.</p> - -<p class="normal">But Jean Charost was very happy. Between the two whom he loved best on -all the earth, he entered the old château; was led by them from room -to room which he had never seen; heard how, as soon as they had -received news of his proposed return, they had come on from De Brecy -to meet him; how the hands of Agnes herself had decked the hall; and -how the tidy care of good Martin Grille had seen that every thing was -in due order for the reception of his lord. Joyfully the evening -passed away, with a thousand little occurrences, all pleasant at the -time, but upon which I must not dwell now. The supper was served in -the great hall, and after it was over, and generous wine had given a -welcome to De Brecy's chief followers, he himself retired, with his -mother and his fair young charge, to talk over the present and the -past.</p> - -<p class="normal">During that evening the conversation was rambling and desultory--a -broken, ill-ordered chat, full of memories, and hardly to be detailed -in a history like this. Jean Charost heard all the little incidents -which had occurred in the neighborhood of Bourges; how Agnes had -become an accomplished horse-woman; how she had learned from a -musician expelled from Paris to play upon the lute; how Madame De -Brecy had ordered all things, both on their ancient estates and those -of St. Florent, with care and prudence; and how there were a thousand -beautiful rides and walks around, which Agnes could show him, on the -banks of the Cher.</p> - -<p class="normal">Then again he told them all he himself had gone through, dwelling but -lightly upon his own exploits, and acknowledging, with sincere -humility, that he had been rewarded for his services more largely than -they deserved. Many an anecdote of the court, too, he told, which did -not give either of his hearers much inclination to mingle with it; how -the adhesion of the Count of Richmond had been bought by the sword of -Constable and other honors; how the somewhat unstable alliance of the -Duke of Brittany had been gained by the concession of one half of the -revenues of Guyenne; how Richmond had played the tyrant over his king, -and forced him to receive ministers at his pleasure; how he had caused -Beaulieu to be assassinated; and how, after a mock trial, he had tied -Giac in a sack, and thrown him into the Loire. Happily, he added, La -Trimouille, whom he had compelled the king to receive as his minister, -had avenged his monarch by ingratitude toward his patron; how Richmond -was kept in activity at a distance from the court, and all was quiet -for a time during his absence. Thus passed more than one hour. The sun -had gone down, and yet no lights were called for; for the large summer -moon shone lustrous in at the window, harmonizing well with the -feelings of those now met after a long parting. Madame De Brecy sat -near the open casement; Agnes and Jean Charost stood near, with her -hand resting quietly in his--I know not how it got there--and the fair -valley of the Cher stretched out far below, till all lines were lost -in the misty moonlight of the distance. Just then a solemn song rose -up from the foot of the hill, between them and St. Florent, and Agnes, -leaning her head familiarly on Jean Charost's shoulder, whispered, -"Hark! The two hermits and the children of the village, whom they -teach, are chanting before they part."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost listened attentively till the song was ended, and then -remarked, in a quiet tone, "I saw two old men going into the -hermitage. I hope their reputation is fair; for it is difficult to -dispossess men who make a profession of sanctity; and yet their -proximity is not always much to be coveted."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh yes, they are well spoken of," replied Madame De Brecy; "but one -of them, at least, is very strange, and frightened us."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was but for a moment," cried Agnes, eagerly. "He is a kind, good -man, too. I will tell you how it all happened, dear Jean; and we will -go down and see him to-morrow, for he and I are great friends now. The -day after our arrival here, I had wandered out, as I do at De Brecy, -thinking myself quite as safe here as there, when suddenly in the -wood, just by the little waterfall, I came upon a tall old man, -dressed in a gray gown, and walking with a staff. What it was he saw -in me, I do not know; but the instant he beheld me he stopped -suddenly, and seemed to reel as if he were going to fall. I started -forward to help him; but he seized hold of my arms, and fixed his eyes -so sternly in my face, he frightened me. His words terrified me still -more; for he burst forth with the strangest, wildest language I ever -heard, asking if I had come from the grave, and if his long years of -penitence had been in vain; saying that he had forgiven me, and surely -I might forgive him; that God had forgiven him, he knew; then why -should I be more obdurate; and then he wept bitterly. I tried to -soothe and calm him; but he still held me by the arm, and I could not -get away. Gradually, however, he grew tranquil, and begged my pardon. -He said he had been suffering under a delusion, asked my name, and -made me sit down by him on the moss. There we remained, and talked for -more than half an hour; for, whenever I wished to go, he begged me -piteously to stay. All the time I remained, his conversation seemed to -me to ramble a great deal, at least I could not understand one half of -it. He told me, however, that he had once been a rich man, a courtier, -and a soldier, and that many years ago he had been terribly wronged, -and in a moment of passionate madness he had committed a great crime. -He had wandered about, he said, for some years as a condemned spirit, -not only half insane, but knowing that he was so. After that, he met -with a good man who led him to better hopes, and thenceforth he had -passed his whole time in penitence and prayer. When he let me go, he -besought me eagerly to come and see him in his hermitage, and, taking -Margiette, the maid with me, I have been down twice. I found him and -his companion teaching the little children of the village, and he -seemed always glad to see me, though at first he would give a sidelong -glance, as if he almost feared me. But he seemed to know much of you, -dear Jean, at least by name. He said you had always been faithful and -true, and would be so to the end, and spoke of you as I loved to hear. -So you must come down with me, and see him and his comrade."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will see him," replied Jean Charost. He made no further remark upon -her little narrative; but what she told him gave him matter for much -thought, even after the whole household had retired to rest.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">When Jean Charost awoke, it was one of those pleasant, drowsy -summer -mornings when the whole of nature seems still inclined to sleep, when -there is a softness in the air, a misty haze in the atmosphere, -streaky white clouds are half veiling the sky, and even the birds of -the bush, and the beasts of the field, seem inclined to prolong the -sweet morning slumber in the midst of the bounteous softness of all -around. A breath of air, it is true, stirred the trees; but it was -very gentle and very soft, and though the lark rose up from his fallow -to sing his early matins at heaven's gate, yet the sounds were so -softened by the distance, that one seemed to feel the melody rather -than to hear it. It was very early, and from the window no moving -object was to be seen except the mute herds winding on toward their -pasturage, a rook wending its straight flight overhead, and an early -laborer taking his way toward the fields. The general world was all -asleep; but, nevertheless, the young Lord De Brecy was soon equipped -in walking guise and wandering on toward the hermitage. He found its -tenants up, and ready for the mornings' labors; but one of them -welcomed him as an old acquaintance, and, leading him into their cell, -remained with him in conversation for more than an hour.</p> - -<p class="normal">De Brecy came forth more grave than he had gone in, though that was -grave enough, and immediately on his return to the castle messengers -were dispatched to several public functionaries in Bourges. It was -done quietly, however, and even those who bore the short letters of -their lord had no idea that his impulse was a sudden one, supposing -merely that he acted on orders received before he had set out from -Poictiers.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ere he joined his mother and Agnes too, De Brecy passed some time in -examining a packet of old papers, a few trinkets, and a ring, and then -walked up and down thoughtfully in his room for several minutes. Then -casting away care, he mingled with his household again, and an hour -went by in cheerful conversation. Perhaps Jean Charost was gayer than -usual, less thoughtful, yet his mother observed that once or twice his -eyes fixed upon the face of Agnes for a very few moments with a look -of intense earnestness and consideration. Nor was Agnes herself -unconscious of it; and once, for a single instant, as she caught his -look directed toward her, a fluttering blush spread over her cheek, -and some slight agitation betrayed itself in her manner.</p> - -<p class="normal">Shortly after she left the hall; and Madame De Brecy said, in a quiet -tone, but not without a definite purpose, "I doubt not we shall have -an early visit, my son, from a young neighbor of ours who lives -between this place and De Brecy: Monsieur De Brives, whose château, -and the village of that name you can see from the top of the tower. He -has frequently been to see us both here and at De Brecy--I believe I -might say to see our dear Agnes. You see, my dear son, how beautiful -she has become; and, to say the truth, I am very glad you have arrived -before this young gentleman has come to any explanation of his wishes; -for I could not venture to tell him even the little that I know of -Agnes's history, and yet he might desire some information regarding -her family."</p> - -<p class="normal">She watched her son's countenance quietly while she spoke, but she -could discover no trace of emotion thereon. Jean Charost was silent, -indeed, and did not reply for two or three minutes; but he remained -quite calm, and merely thoughtful. At length he asked, "Do you know, -my dearest mother, any thing of this young gentleman's character?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is very fair, I believe, as the world goes," replied Madame De -Brecy. "He seems amiable and kind, and distinguished himself in the -attack of Cone some years ago, I am told. He is wealthy, too, and -altogether his own master."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How does Agnes receive him?" asked Jean Charost, thoughtfully.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Friendly and courteously," replied his mother; "but I have remarked -nothing more. Indeed, I have given no great encouragement to his -visits, thinking that perhaps the dear girl might meet with a sad -disappointment if her affections became entangled, and her obscure -history were to prove an insurmountable obstacle in the eyes of the -man she had chosen."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did it do so, he would be unworthy of her," answered Jean Charost, -rising, and walking slowly to and fro in the room. Then stopping -opposite to his mother, he added, "I have been thinking all this -morning, my dear mother, of telling Agnes every thing I can tell of -her history. It is a somewhat difficult and somewhat painful task, but -yet it must be done."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think the sooner the better," replied Madame De Brecy. "I have long -thought so; but trusting entirely to your judgment, I did not like to -interfere."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Does she know that she is in no degree allied to us?" asked Jean -Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, yes," answered his mother; "that her own questions elicited one -day. I could see she would have fain known more; but I merely told her -she was an orphan committed to your care and guardianship. That seemed -to satisfy her, and she asked no more. But I think it is right that -she should know all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"She shall," answered Jean Charost. "I will tell her; but it must be -at some moment when we are alone together."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If you will give me any sign, I will quit the room," answered Madame -De Brecy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," replied her son, thoughtfully; "no: that will not be needful. I -could not tell it in a formal way. It must be told gently, easily, my -dear mother, in order not to alarm and agitate her. Some day when we -are riding or walking forth in the woods around, or on the castle -walls, I will say something which will naturally lead her to inquire. -Then, piece by piece, I will dole it out, as if it were a matter of -not much moment. There sounds the horn at the gates. Perhaps it is -this Monsieur De Brives."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What will you do if he speaks at once?" asked Madame De Brecy -quickly, adding, "I doubt not that he will do so."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will refer him to Agnes herself," answered Jean Charost. "She must -decide. First, however, I will let him know as much of her history as -I may, and, as some counterpoise, will assure him that all which I -have gained by my labors or my sword shall be hers."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But you will some day marry, yourself, deal Jean--I hope, I trust -so," said his mother, earnestly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Never!" answered her son; and the next moment Monsieur De Brives was -in the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">He was a tall, handsome young man, of some five or six-and-twenty, -polished and courteous in his manners, with a tone of that warm -sincerity in his whole address which is usually very winning upon -woman's heart. Why, it is hardly possible to say, Jean Charost -received him with somewhat stately coldness; and the first few words -of ceremony had hardly passed, when Agnes herself re-entered the room -and welcomed their visitor with friendly ease. De Brecy's eyes were -turned upon her eagerly. At the end of a few minutes, Monsieur De -Brives turned to Jean Charost, saying, "I am glad you have returned at -last, Monsieur De Brecy; for I have a few words to say to you in -private, if your leisure serves to give me audience."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Assuredly," replied De Brecy, rising; and whispering a word to his -mother as he passed, he led the way to a cabinet near, giving one -glance to the face of Agnes. It was perfectly calm.</p> - -<p class="normal">His conversation with Monsieur De Brives lasted half an hour, and some -time before it was over, Madame De Brecy quietly left the hall, while -Agnes remained embroidering a coat of arms. At length the two -gentlemen issued from the cabinet, and Monsieur De Brives took his way -at once to the room where Agnes was seated. Jean Charost, for his -part, went down to the lower hall, which had been left vacant while -his followers sported in the castle court. There, with a grave, stern -air, and his arms crossed upon his chest, Jean Charost paced up and -down the pavement, pausing once to look out into the court upon the -gay games going on; but he turned away without even a smile, bending -his eyes thoughtfully upon the old stones as if he would have counted -their number or spied out their flaws. The time seemed very long to -him, and yet he would not interrupt the lover in his suit. At length, -however, he heard a rapid step coming, and the next instant Monsieur -De Brives entered the hall, as if to pass through it to the court. His -face was deadly pale, and traces of strong emotion were in every line.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well," cried De Brecy, advancing to meet him; "she has accepted -you--of course, she has accepted you."</p> - -<p class="normal">De Brives only grasped his hand, and shook his head.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did you tell her you knew all?" asked De Brecy. "Did you tell her of -your generous--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"In vain--all in vain," said the young man; and, wringing De Brecy's -hand hard in his, he broke away from him, and left the castle.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost stood for an instant in the midst of the hall buried in -deep thought, and then mounted the stairs to the room where he had -left Agnes. He found her weeping bitterly; and going gently up to her, -he seated himself beside her and took her hand. "Dear Agnes," he said, -"you are weeping. You regret what you have done. It is not yet too -late. Let me send after him. He has hardly yet left the castle."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no--no!" cried Agnes, eagerly. "I do not regret what I have said, -though I regret having given him pain--I regret to give pain to any -thing. But I told him the truth."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What did you tell him?" asked Jean Charost, perhaps indiscreetly.</p> - -<p class="normal">Agnes's face glowed warmly, but she answered at once, "I told him I -could not love him as a woman should love her husband."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Bitter truth enough from such lips as those," said Jean Charost in a -low tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed, indeed," cried Agnes, who seemed to feel some reproach in his -words, "I did not intend to grieve him more than I could help in -telling him the truth. But how could I love him?" she asked, with a -bewildered look; and then shaking her head sadly, she added, "no--no!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not a word more, dear Agnes," answered Jean Charost. "You did right -to tell him the truth; and I am quite sure you did it as gently as -might be. Now let us forget this painful incident as soon as we can, -and all be as we were before."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh gladly," cried Agnes, with a bright smile. "I hope for nothing, I -desire nothing but that."</p> - -<p class="normal">He soothed her with kindly tenderness, and soon whiled her away from -all painful thoughts, gradually and with more skill than might have -been expected, leading the conversation by imperceptible degrees to -other subjects and to distant scenes. The return of Madame De Brecy to -the room renewed for a time the beautiful girl's agitation; and Jean -Charost left her with his mother, with a promise to take a long ramble -with her that evening, and make her show him every fair spot in the -woods around the castle.</p> - -<p class="normal">Woman's heart, it is generally supposed, is more easily opened to a -fellow-woman than to a man; and sometimes it is so, but sometimes not. -If we have watched closely, most of us must have seen the secret -within more carefully guarded from a woman's eyes than from any -other--perhaps from a knowledge of their acuteness. Such, indeed, -might not--probably was not.--the case with Agnes. Nevertheless, it -was in vain that Madame De Brecy questioned her. She told all that had -occurred frankly and simply, every word that had been uttered, as far -as she could recollect them. But there was something that Agnes did -not tell--the cause of all that had occurred. True, she could not tell -it; for it was intangible to herself--misty, indefinite--a something -which she could feel, but not explain. Gladly she heard the trumpet -sound to dinner; for she had set Madame De Brecy musing; and Agnes did -not like that she should muse too long over her conduct of that day.</p> - -<p class="normal">Noon proved very sultry, and Jean Charost had plenty of occupation for -several hours after the meal. Horsemen came and went: he saw several -persons from Bourges, and several of the tenants of St. Florent. He -sent off a large body of the men who had accompanied him from -Poictiers to the neighboring city, and the castle resumed an air of -silence and loneliness.</p> - -<p class="normal">Toward evening, however, he called upon Agnes to prepare for her walk; -and as he paced up and down the hall waiting for her, Madame De Brecy -judged from his look and manner that he meditated speaking to his fair -charge, that very evening, on the delicate subject of her own history.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Be gentle with the dear girl, my son," she said, "and if you see that -a subject agitates her, change it. There is something on Agnes's mind -that we do not comprehend fully; and one may touch a tender point -without knowing it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you suspect any other attachment?" asked Jean Charost, turning so -suddenly, and speaking so gravely, that his mother was surprised.</p> - -<p class="normal">"None whatever," she answered. "Indeed, I can not believe such a thing -possible. To my knowledge she has seen no one at all likely to gain -her affections but this Monsieur De Brives. The stiff old soldiers -left to guard this castle and De Brecy, good Martin Grille, and -Henriot, the groom, upon my word, are the only men we have seen."</p> - -<p class="normal">The return of Agnes stopped further conversation; and she and De Brecy -took their way out by one of the posterns on the hill. Agnes was now -as gay as a lark; the shower had passed away and left all clear; not a -trace of agitation lingered behind. De Brecy was thoughtful, but -strove to be cheerful likewise, paused and gazed wherever she told him -the scene was beautiful, talked with no ignorant or tasteless lips of -the loveliness of nature, and of the marvels of art which he had seen -since he was last in Berri; but there was something more in his -conversation. There was a depth of feeling, a warmth of fancy, a -richness of association which made Agnes thoughtful also. He seemed to -lead her mind which way he would; to have the complete mastery over -it; and exercising his power gently and tenderly, it was a pleasant -and a new sensation to feel that he possessed it.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was one very beautiful scene that came up just when the sun was -a couple of hands' breadth from the horizon. It was a small secluded -nook in the wood, of some ten or fifteen yards across, surrounded and -overshadowed by the tall old trees, but only covered, itself, with -short green grass. It was as flat and even, too, as the pavement of -the hall; but just beyond, to the southwest, was a short and sharp -descent, from the foot of which some lesser trees shot up their -branches, letting in between them, as through a window, a prospect of -the valley of the Cher, and the glowing sky beyond.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is a place for Dryads, Agnes," said Jean Charost, making her sit -down by him on a large fragment of stone which had rolled to the foot -of an old oak. "Nymphs of the woods, dear girl, might well hold -commune here with spirits of the air."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I was thinking but the day before yesterday," said Agnes, "what a -beautiful spot this would be for a cottage in the wood, with that -lovely sky before us, and the world below."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is always better," said Jean Charost, with a smile, "to keep the -world below us--or, rather, to keep ourselves above the world; but I -fear me, Agnes, it is not the inhabitants of cottages who have the -most skill in doing so. I have little faith either in cottages or -hermitages."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do not destroy my dreams, dear Jean," said Agnes, almost sadly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no," he answered, "I would not destroy, but only read them."</p> - -<p class="normal">Agnes paused, with her eyes bent down for a moment or two, and then -looked earnestly in his face: "They are very simple," she said, "and -easily read. The brightest dream of my whole life, the one I cherish -the most fondly, is but to remain forever with dear Madame De Brecy -and you, without any change--except," she added, eagerly, "to have you -always remain with us--to coax you to throw away swords and lances, -and never make our hearts beat with the thought that you are in battle -and in danger."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost's own heart beat now; and he was silent for a moment or -two. "That can not be, Agnes," he said, "and you would not wish it, my -dear girl. Every one must sacrifice something for his country--very -much in perilous times--men their repose, their ease, often their -happiness, their life itself, should it be necessary; women, the -society of those they love--brothers, fathers, husbands. Now, dear -Agnes, I am neither of these to you, and therefore your sacrifice is -not so much as that of many others."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know you are not my father," answered Agnes. "That our dear mother -told me long ago; but do you know, dear Jean, I often wish you were my -brother."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost smiled, and seemed for a moment to hesitate what he -should reply. He pursued his purpose steadily, however, and at length -answered, "That is a relationship which, wish as we may, we can not -bring about. But, indeed, we are none to each other, Agnes. You are -only my adopted child."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, not your child," she said; "you are too young for that. Why not -your adopted sister?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I never heard of such an adoption," replied De Brecy; "but you are -like a child to me, Agnes. I have carried you more than one mile in my -arms, when you were an infant."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And an orphan," she added, in a sad tone. "How much--how very much do -I owe you, kindest and best of friends."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not so much, perhaps, as you imagine, Agnes," replied Jean Charost. -"To save my own life in a moment of great danger, I made a solemn -promise to protect, cherish, and educate you, as if you were my own. I -had incautiously suffered myself to fall into the hands of a party of -ruthless marauders, who, imagining that I had come to espy their -actions, and perhaps to betray them, threatened to put me to death. -There was no possibility of escape or resistance; but a gentleman who -was with them, and who, though not of them, possessed apparently, from -old associations, great influence over them, induced them to spare me -on the condition I have mentioned. You were then an infant lying under -the greenwood-tree, and I, it is true, hardly more than a boy; but I -took a solemn promise, dear Agnes, and I have striven to perform it -well. Yet I deserve no credit even for that dear Agnes; for what I did -at first from a sense of duty, I afterward did from affection. Well -did you win and did you repay my love; and, as I told Monsieur De -Brives this morning, although at my death the small estate of De Brecy -must pass away to another and very distant branch of my own family, -all that I have won by my own exertions will be yours."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you think I could enjoy it, and you dead?" asked Agnes, in a sad -and almost reproachful tone. "Oh, no--no! All I should then want would -be enough to find me place in a nunnery, there to pray that it might -not be long till we met again. You have been all and every thing to me -through life, dear Jean. What matters it what happens when you are -gone?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost laid his hand gently upon hers and she might have felt -that strong hand tremble; but her thoughts seemed busy with other -things. She knew not the emotions she excited--doubtless she knew not -even those which lay at the source of her own words and thoughts.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is sad," she continued, after a brief pause, "never to have seen a -father's face or known a mother's blessing. To have no brother, no -sister; and though the place of all has been supplied, and well -supplied, by a friend, I sometimes long to know who were my parents, -what was my family. I know you would tell me, if it were right for me -to know, and therefore I have never asked--nor do I ask now, though -the thought sometimes troubles me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am ready to tell you all I know this moment," answered Jean -Charost; "but that is not much, and it is a sad tale. Are you prepared -to hear it, Agnes?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No--not if it is sad," she answered. "I have been looking forward to -the time of your return, dear friend, as if every day of your stay -were to be a day of joy, and not a shadow to come over me during the -whole time. Yet you have been but one day here, and that has been more -checkered with sadness than many I have known for years. I have shed -tears, which I have not done before since you went away. I would have -no more sad things to-day. Some other time--some other time you shall -tell me all about myself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"All that I know," answered Jean Charost; "and I will give you, too, -some papers which, perhaps, may tell you more. There are some jewels, -too, which belong to you--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"See," said Agnes, interrupting him, as if her mind had been absent, -"the sun is half way down behind the edge of the earth. Had we not -better go back to the castle? How gloriously he lights up the edges of -the clouds, changing the dark gray into crimson and gold. I have often -thought that love does the like; and when you and our dear mother are -with me, I feel that it is so; for things that would be otherwise dark -and sad seem then to become bright and sparkle. Even that which made -me weep this morning has lost its heaviness, and as it was to be, I am -glad that it is over."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Will you never repent, my Agnes?" asked Jean Charost, with a voice -not altogether free from emotion. "Of this Monsieur De Brives I know -nothing but by report, yet he seemed to me one well calculated to win -favor--and perhaps to deserve it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is he to me?" asked Agnes, almost impatiently. "A mere stranger. -Shall I ever repent? oh, never--never!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But you must marry some one nearly as much a stranger to you as he -is," replied Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">She only shook her head sadly, again answering, "Never!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost was silent for a moment; and then rising, they returned -to the castle with nothing said of all that might have been said.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">There was a great change in Agnes, and Madame De Brecy -remarked it -immediately. Hers was an earnest, though a cheerful spirit, and when -she was thoughtful, those who knew her well might be sure she was -debating something with herself, examining some course of action, -trying some thought or feeling before the tribunal of her own heart. -All that night, and all the following morning, she was very -thoughtful. Her gayety seemed gone, and though she could both listen -and converse, yet at the least pause she fell back into a revery -again.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost, too, was a good deal changed, at least toward Agnes, and -the mother's eye marked it with very varied feelings. His manner was -more tender, his language more glowing; there was a spirit in his -words which had never been there before. He, too, was often very -thoughtful; but Jean Charost had other motives for thought besides -those connected with Agnes. Early on the morning of the day following -the incidents lately detailed, he sent a man up to the watch-tower -with others to keep his eye on the valley of the Cher, and Madame De -Brecy remarked that the soldiers who had remained at St. Florent were -no longer scattered about, either amusing themselves in the village, -or sporting in the court-yard, but were gathered together, all in busy -occupation, some cleaning and rubbing down their horses, some -polishing armor, or sharpening swords and lances, some skillfully -making arrows or quarrels for the crossbow. She refrained from asking -any questions till after the mid-day meal; but it was hardly over when -the horn of the watcher upon the tower was winded loudly, and De -Brecy, springing up from the table, ran up the stairs himself, as if -on some notice of danger. There were several of the chief persons of -his little band still around the board; but none of them moved or -showed any sign of anxiety, and, in truth, they had been so long -inured to hourly peril that danger had lost its excitement for them.</p> - -<p class="normal">The young lord was absent only a few minutes; but, on his return, he -did not resume his seat, merely saying to the soldiers around, "To the -saddle with all speed. Lead out all the horses. Some one bring me my -armor. Do not look pale, my mother; I know not that there is any cause -for alarm; but I heard yesterday that troops were tending toward -Bourges in a somewhat menacing attitude, and I think it may be as well -for us to leave St. Florent for a time, and return to De Brecy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Are they English?" asked Madame De Brecy, evidently much frightened.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not so," replied her son; "nor are they even the rebels on the -English part; but I grieve to say these are Royalists, perhaps more -dangerous to the king's cause than even his open enemies. I will tell -you the circumstances presently; for there may yet be some mistake. -The spears we have seen are very distant, and few in number. Our good -friend above was quite right to give the alarm; but neither he nor I -could at all tell what troops they were, nor in what force. I will go -back and see more in a moment. In the mean time, however, dear mother, -it would be well to have all prepared for immediate departure. I can -not receive these gentlemen as friends in St. Florent, and they may be -very apt to treat those who do not do so as enemies. Dear Agnes, get -ready in haste. Tell Martin Grille to have my mother's litter ready; I -will return directly."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he again went up to the watch-tower, and remained gazing -along the valley of the Cher for ten minutes or a quarter of an hour. -There was much woodland in those days along that fair valley, and Jean -Charost could not satisfy himself. Spear heads he certainly descried; -but in the leafy covering of the scene they were lost almost as soon -as perceived, and he could not tell their numbers. At length he turned -to the warder, who stood silent, gazing out beside him, and pointed -out one particular spot in the landscape. "You see that large tree," -he said; "an evergreen oak, it seems to be. The road divides there -into two; one turns eastward to the right, the other comes toward the -north. Watch those men well as they pass that spot. They must all show -themselves there. If there be more than fifty, and they come upon this -road, blow your horn twice and come down. If they take the other road, -remain quiet where you are till I come."</p> - -<p class="normal">The preparations of Madame De Brecy, under the effect of fear, had -been very rapid; and she and Agnes were standing in the hall, ready -for departure. A page was there also, resting on a bench half covered -with armor, and, as soon as his lord appeared, he sprang to arm him, -asking, as Madame De Brecy had asked, "Are they the English?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, boy--no!" replied De Brecy and then, turning to his mother, he -said, "There is no need of great haste. We shall hear more presently. -The fact is, the Count of Richmond," he continued, in a quiet, -narrative tone, "has ridden the court somewhat too hard. He forced La -Trimouille upon the king, as I told you the other night; and now he -would rule La Trimouille, and, through him, his sovereign. He found -himself mistaken, however; for Trimouille is a very different person -to deal with from Giac or Beaulieu. Finding himself opposed, he -determined to employ force; joined with himself the Counts of La -Marche and Clermont, and advanced upon Chatellerault. When I left -Poictiers, the king had chosen a decided part, and ordered the gates -of Chatellerault to be closed against the counts. It was supposed, -indeed, that the matter would be soon accommodated; for Richmond is -needful to the king, and is himself but a mere cipher, except when -serving his royal master. But since my arrival here, I have heard -that, instead of submitting dutifully, he has levied larger forces, -and is marching upon Bourges. If the troops I have seen be his, we -shall soon hear more, and then--though doubtless there would be no -great danger in staying--it may be better to retire before them. How -do you go, dear Agnes? In the litter with my mother?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no; I will ride," replied the beautiful girl. "I have become as -good a cavalier as any man in your band."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, you shall be my second page," said Jean Charost, with a -smile. "Come and buckle this strap on my shoulder--the boy can hardly -reach it."</p> - -<p class="normal">Agnes sprang forward and buckled the strap, and Jean Charost gayly -kissed her cheek, saying, "Thanks for the service, dear Agnes."</p> - -<p class="normal">His tone and manner were altogether so easy and unconcerned, that even -Madame De Brecy could hardly suppose that there was any cause for -fear; but, a moment after, the trumpet was heard to sound twice from -the tower above, and then the step of the soldier descending the -stairs heavily.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now, dear mother," said Jean Charost, taking the old lady's hand, -"you must let me lead you to your litter; for these friends of ours -are coming this way. Run, boy, and tell Martin Grille and the rest to -mount, and be gone on the road to De Brecy. Come, Agnes, come."</p> - -<p class="normal">All were soon in the court-yard. It may seem an ungallant comparison; -but all light things are more easily moved than weightier ones, and -women, like dust, are soon disturbed by bustle. The very haste with -which her son spoke destroyed all Madame De Brecy's confidence, -agitated and alarmed her. Even Agnes felt a sort of thrill of -apprehension come over her heart. But in those perilous times people -were drilled into promptitude. Madame De Brecy and two of the maids -wee soon in the litter, and Agnes mounted on her horse by Jean -Charost's side. She had seen him in times of suffering and of -captivity; she had seen him go forth to battle and to danger; she had -seen him in the chivalrous sports which in those times were practiced -in almost every castle in the land; but she had never ridden by his -side in the hour of peril and command. On many a former occasion, deep -interest, compassion, admiration perhaps, had been excited in her -bosom; but now other sensations arose as she heard the clear, plain -orders issue from his lips, and saw the promptness and submission with -which all around obeyed. Surely woman was formed to yield, and, beyond -all doubt, there is something very admirable to her eyes in the -display of power. But she was to witness more before the day closed.</p> - -<p class="normal">As they issued forth upon the road down to the village of St. Florent, -nothing was to be seen which could create the least alarm; and, -turning toward Solier, all seemed fair and open. But still Jean -Charost was watchful and anxious, throwing out several men in front, -and detaching others to the rear, while, as they approached the little -valley which lies between the Cher and the Avon, and gives name to the -small hamlet of La Vallée, he sent one of the soldiers on whom he -could trust to the top of the church tower, to reconnoitre the country -around. The man came back at speed; and rejoined the party ere they -had proceeded far, bringing the intelligence that he had seen a -considerable body of horse following slowly at about half a league's -distance.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then we have plenty of time," said Jean Charost, in an easy tone; but -still he rather hurried the horses, and, mounting the hill, the towers -of Bourges were soon in sight.</p> - -<p class="normal">At that time the road to Mont Luçon entered the road to Bourges much -nearer to the city than it does at present, and it was along the -former that the way of Jean Charost lay in going to De Brecy, if he -wished to avoid passing through the city itself. But as he approached -the point of separation, the sound of a trumpet on the right met his -ear, and, galloping up a little eminence, he saw a large body of -crossbow men, with some thirty or forty men-at-arms coming up from the -side of Luçon. They were near enough for the banners to be visible, -and he needed nothing more to decide him. Wheeling his horse, he -hurried down the hill again, and, speaking to his lieutenant, said, -"There are the men of La Marche in our way. There is nothing for it -but to go through Bourges."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here is Hubert come back from the front, sir," replied the lieutenant -at once, "to tell us that they have got a party on the bridge over the -Avon. They shouted to him to keep back; so they will never let us pass -into Bourges."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The best reason for going forward," answered Jean Charost, in a gay -tone. "We are nicely entangled; but we have made our way through, -against worse odds than this. How many are there, Hubert?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Much about our own numbers, fair sir," replied the man. "The others -are a great deal further off; but we are right between them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh; Jean, will you be obliged to surrender?" asked Agnes, with a pale -face.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Surrender!" exclaimed Jean Charost, pointing to his pennon, which was -carried by one of the men. "Shall De Brecy's pennon fall, my Agnes, -before, a handful of rebels, and you by my side? Give me my lance. Now -mark me, Dubois. The bridge is narrow; not more than two can pass -abreast. You lead the right file, Courbeboix the left. Valentin, with -the eight last men, escort the litter and this lady. The object is to -give them a free passage. We must beat the rebels back off the bridge, -and then disperse them over the flat ground beyond. Go back to the -side of the litter, my Agnes. 'Twere better you dismounted and joined -my mother. Go back, dear girl; we must lose no time. Now, loyal -gentlemen, use the spur. They have bid us back; I say, forward!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Agnes was alarmed, but less for herself than for him; and, -notwithstanding the wish he had expressed, she kept her seat upon her -horse's back, with her eyes straining upon the front, where she saw -the plume of blue and white in De Brecy's crest dancing in the air, as -his horse dashed on.</p> - -<p class="normal">On the little party went; words were passed forward from front to -rear; quicker and quicker they moved forward, till a short turn of the -road showed them the bridge over the Avon, partly occupied by a party -of horse, several of whom, however, had dismounted, and seemed to be -gazing nonchalantly up toward the walls of Bourges.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost gave them no time to question or prepare; for he knew -right well who they were, and why they were there. Agnes saw him turn -for an instant in the saddle, shout loudly a word which she did not -clearly hear, and the next moment his horse dashed forward to the -bridge, at what seemed to her almost frantic speed. She saw him couch -his lance and bend over his saddle-bow; but the next instant, the -greater part of his troop following, hid him from her sight. There was -a momentary check to their headlong speed upon the bridge, and she -could clearly see some one fall over into the water. All the rest was -wild confusion--a mass of struggling men and horses rearing and -plunging, and lances crossed, and waving swords and axes. Oh, how her -young heart beat! But as she still gazed, not able to comprehend what -she beheld, one of the soldiers suddenly took her horse by the rein, -saying, "Come on, dear lady--come on. Our lord has cleared the way. -The bridge will be free in another minute. 'Tis seldom De Brecy gives -back before any odds."</p> - -<p class="normal">Agnes could have kissed him; but on they went, and she soon saw that -he was right. Driven on into the open space beyond the bridge, the men -of the Count La Marche still maintained the combat; but they were -evidently worsted, for some were beaten back to the right, some to the -left, and some got entangled in the marshy ground, and seemed scarcely -able to extricate their horses. To Agnes's great joy, however, she saw -the blue and white plume still waving on the right, and a clear space -before them up to the walls of the city. Forward pressed the man who -had hold of her rein; the litter came after it, as fast as the horses -could bear it, followed by three or four servants in straggling -disarray, but flanked on either side by several stout men-at-arms. -This was not all, however, which Agnes saw when she looked back to -assure herself of the safety of Madame De Brecy. On the other side of -the bridge, and across the marsh which lies to the east, she beheld a -large, dark body of spears moving on rapidly, and at the same time, as -they came closer to the walls of the town, cries and shouts were -heard, apparently from within. "By the Lord! I believe they have won -the city," exclaimed the soldier who was guiding her; and almost at -the same moment, a man from the battlement over the gate shouted -something to the conductor, who replied, "The Seigneur De Brecy, just -from Poictiers. Long live King Charles!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ride quick to the castle gate!" cried the man from above. "The Count -of Richmond is in the city. They are fighting in the streets; but we -are not enough to hold the town. To the castle--to the castle!" and he -himself ran along the battlements to the westward.</p> - -<p class="normal">Agnes's guide turned in the same direction, but was met by De Brecy -coming at full speed, a little in advance of his men, who now, -gathered all together again in good order, were approaching the gate -which Agnes and her companion had just left.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost heard the tidings with evident pain and anxiety; but -there was no time for deliberation, and, with one cheering word to -Agnes, he wheeled his horse and galloped on to another gate hard by, -close to which rose up the large round tower and smaller square keep -of the old citadel of Bourges. Strong works, according to the system -of fortification of that day, connected the castle with the gate -below, and the space between the wall and the marsh was very narrow, -so that the place was considered almost impregnable on that side. A -number of persons were seen upon the towers as Agnes rode on; and when -she reached the castle draw-bridge, she found De Brecy arguing with a -little group of armed men upon the crenelated gallery of the -gate-tower, who seemed little disposed to give him admission.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Tell Monsieur De Royans," he exclaimed, "that it is his old friend De -Brecy; and in Heaven's name make haste! They are rallying in our rear, -and the other squadrons coming on. You can not suppose that I would -attack and rout my own friends. You have yourselves seen us at blows -on the meadow. Wheel the men round there, Dubois, behind the litter," -he continued, shouting to his lieutenant. "Bring their spears down, -and drive those fellows into the marsh, if they come near enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, however, the chains of the draw-bridge began to creak and -groan, a large mass of wood-work slowly descended, and the portcullis -was raised.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Forward, Agnes, forward!" cried De Brecy, riding toward the rear; and -while he and a few of his followers kept the enemy in check, the rest -of the party passed over the bridge, till they were all closely packed -in the space between the portcullis and the gate. The latter was then -opened, and riding on, Agnes found herself in a small open sort of -court, surrounded by high walls, between the inner and the outer -gates. There were stone stair-cases leading up to the ramparts in -different directions, and down one of these flights a gentleman in -steel armor was coming slowly when the troop entered.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where is De Brecy?" he exclaimed, looking down upon the group below. -"I do not see him. Varlet, you have not shut him out?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no; I am here!" cried the voice of De Brecy, riding in from under -the arch, while the portcullis clanged, and the draw-bridge creaked -behind him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pardi! De Brecy," cried the man from above, "you have brought us a -heap of women. Men are what we want, for we have only provisions for a -week, and we shall be closely pressed, I can tell you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here are forty-seven horses," answered De Brecy, "which will feed the -whole castle for a month, in case of need. But is there no means of -passing through the town?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Impossible!" cried the other. "They are just now fighting in the -castle street, to bring in safely the grain out of the corn-market."</p> - -<p class="normal">Agnes then, for the first time, became fully aware of her situation, -and that she was destined to be for some time the tenant of a small -citadel, closely besieged, and but very ill provided to resist.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLIV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The power of the mind to accommodate itself to all things is -curiously -displayed in the zest and carelessness with which soldiers, in the -busy time of war, enjoy all short intervals of repose. The whole -morning had been passed in skirmishing in the streets of Bourges, in -strengthening every defense of the castle, and in collecting whatever -provisions could be found in the neighboring houses, so long as the -smallness of the force in the town permitted parties to issue forth -from the citadel. But in the course of the day, the troops of the -Count of La Marche and of the Count of Clermont entered Bourges, and -joined the Count of Richmond. A strong party was posted across the -river opposite to the gate of the castle, another occupied the bridge, -and the blockade of the citadel was complete. Weary, however, with the -long march and a morning's skirmishing, the troops of the revolted -lords did not press the siege during the rest of the day. The -defenders of the citadel, too, had but little opportunity of annoying -the enemy or serving themselves; and, from three o'clock till -nightfall, nothing occurred but an occasional shot of a cannon or a -culverine, directed at any group of the enemy who might appear in the -castle street, or at the parties on the opposite side of the river. -True, the citadel was surrounded on every side by a strong force; -true, the siege was likely to commence on the following day with vigor -and determination; but still a sort of tacit truce was established for -the time; and could any one have seen the little party of superior -officers seated together in the castle of Bourges that night at -supper, they would have seemed but a gay assembly of thoughtless men -met together on some occasion of merry-making. They laughed, they -talked, and some of them drank deep; but none of them seemed to give -one thought to their perilous situation, trusting confidently to the -precautions they had taken for defense, and to the care and faith of -those who had been left upon guard.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost, though perhaps the gravest of the party, seemed for the -time as indifferent to the fate of the citadel as the rest; and, -seated next to Juvenel de Royans, conversed upon any subject on earth -but the state of Bourges, dwelling upon former times and past-by -occurrences, the days they had spent together in the household of the -Duke of Orleans, their after meetings, and the fatal events of -Monterreau.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What a strange thing life is, De Brecy!" said his companion. "Here -you and I meet, first as enemies, and are ready to cut each others -throats; then as young friends and brothers-in-arms, ready to -sacrifice our lives for one another; and then here we are, beleaguered -in this fusty old château of Bourges, with Richmond, who never spares -an enemy, and La Marche, who seldom spares a friend, ready to dig us -out of our hole, as they would a badger on the side of a hill. I -forgot to mention our short meeting at Monterreau, for, by my faith! I -was too ill at that time even to do the honors of my quarters."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You seem wonderfully improved in health, De Royans," said Jean -Charost. "You look younger by four or five years than you did then."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But a poor, battered old soldier, after all," replied De Royans, -tossing up with his fingers one of the curls that hung at the back of -his neck. "You see I am as gray as a wild goose. However, I am much -better. A year's idleness on the banks of the Garonne, a little music, -and a great deal of physic, cured my wounds, loosened my stiff joints, -and enabled me to keep my horses back almost as well as ever. I have -got on in the world, too, De Brecy, have made some very nice little -captures, paid off many old debts, and got two companies of -arquebusiers under my command instead of one. I wish to Heaven I had -them all here. Had they been in the town, Richmond would never have -got in by the northwest gate."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I marvel much that he did, I will confess," replied Jean Charost. -"Two days ago I sent Monsieur de Blondel there intimation that Bourges -was in danger. I thought fit, indeed, to tell him the source from -which I received the intelligence; but still it might have kept him on -his guard."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I heard all about that," replied De Royans, laughing; "and we -were all more or less in fault. When Blondel got your letter, he held -it in his hand, after reading it, and cried out, in his jeering way, -'What's a hermit? and what does a hermit know of war?' Then said -Gaucourt, 'As much as the pig does of the bagpipe; and why should he -not?' and then they all laughed, and the matter passed by. But who is -this hermit who has got such good intelligence? On my life! De Brecy, -it would be well to have him in pay."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That you could hardly have," replied De Brecy. "He was once a famous -soldier, my friend, but has met with many disasters in life. I went to -see him upon other matters; but the intelligence he gave me, -transmitted from mouth to mouth, I believe, all the way from -Chatellerault to St. Florent, seemed so important that I left him -without even touching upon my object. He is looked upon as a saint by -all the country round, and the peasantry tell him every thing they -hear."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But what, in Fortune's name, took you to a saint?" asked Juvenel de -Royans, laughing "Was it to ask for absolution for wandering about the -land with that lovely little creature you brought hither?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost looked grave, but answered calmly, "That was no sin, I -trust, De Royans, for I may call her my adopted daughter. She had, -indeed, something to do with my going to see him, for he has great -knowledge of her fate and history; and I wished to learn more than he -has ever yet told me. It is time that she herself should know all. She -will, it is true, have all I die possessed of; but still I could wish -the mystery of her birth cleared up."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, surely this is not the infant you brought out of the wood near -Beauté sur Marne--the child we had so many jests upon?" exclaimed De -Royans.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The very same," replied Jean Charost. "She has been as a child to me -ever since."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We thought she was your child then," replied De Royans. "Heaven help -us! I have learned to think differently since of many things, and -would gladly have wished you joy of your babe, if you had acknowledged -her, right or wrong; but, as it was, we all vowed she was yours, and -only called you the sanctified young sinner. Two or three times I went -down to good Dame Moulinet's to see if I could not get the truth out -of her; but; though she seemed to know much, she would say little."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you know if Dame Moulinet be still living, and where she is?" -asked Jean Charost.</p> - -<p class="normal">"She was living a year ago, and not ten miles from Bourges," replied -De Royans. "In the village of Solier, hard by the Cher. I had one of -her sons in my troop. She and her husband are well to do now, for they -have got her father's inheritance. They were tenants of that old -Monsieur de Solier whose daughter our dear lord and master, the Duke -of Orleans, carried off by force from her husband."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost started, and exclaimed, "Merciful Heaven!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, it was bad enough," said De Royans. "Our noble lord had his -little faults and his great ones; and some of them. I have a notion, -imbittered his last hours. This, above all others, I believe, affected -him, for it had a terrible termination, as I dare say you remember."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No--no," answered Jean Charost; "I never heard of it before. How did -it end?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, the lady died," said De Royans, gravely. "No one of the -household very well knew how, unless it was Lomelini. Some say that -she was poisoned--some, that she was stabbed in her sleep."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not by the duke!" exclaimed Jean Charost, with a look of horror.</p> - -<p class="normal">"God forbid!" cried Juvenel de Royans, eagerly. "He only loved her too -well. No; there were strange tales going; but certain it is she died, -and her death nearly deprived the duke of reason, they thought. Now, I -recollect, you first came about that very time. The lady had been ill -some months; but, as there was the cry of a babe in the house--one -might hear it from the garden--we thought that natural enough. Her -death, however, surprised us all. Hypocritical Lomelini would have us -believe that it was remorse that killed her; but there were a great -many strange things took place just then. One of the judges of the -Châtelet was brought to the palace--there were secret investigations, -and I know not what. Your coming about that time made us think you had -something to do with the affair. Some said you were her younger -brother. But what makes you look so sad, De Brecy?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The subject is a sad one," answered Jean Charost; "and, moreover, new -lights are breaking upon me, De Royans. Do you think, if Lomelini is -still living, he could give me information upon those events?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He could, if he would," answered his companion. "He is living, and as -sleek as ever, and Abbot of Briare; but I can tell you, I think, all -that remains to be told. Poor old Monsieur De Solier died of grief. I -shall never forget his coming to the Palais d'Orleans, to persuade the -duke to give his daughter up, nor the despair of his countenance when -the duke would not see him. The husband made away with himself, I -believe, which was a pity, for they say this Count De St. Florent was -as good a soldier as any of his day, and had fought in many a battle -under Charles the Fifth. However, he never was heard of more, from the -time the duke carried off his wife, during his absence. That is all -that is to tell. One--two--three, died miserably for a prince's -pleasures; and he himself had his heart wrung with remorse, which is -better, perhaps, than could be said of most princes. It is a sad -history, though a brief one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And the child?" said De Brecy.</p> - -<p class="normal">Juvenel de Royans looked suddenly up with an inquiring glance. "I do -not know," he said. "But do you think--do you really believe--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know nothing," replied Jean Charost. "The duke told me nothing of -all this. I had fancied he might have something of importance to -communicate; and, indeed, something was said about giving me some -papers; but he was murdered, and--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did you never get the packet Lomelini had for you?" asked De Royans.</p> - -<p class="normal">Before Jean Charost could answer, a soldier came into the hall, -saying, "Is there a Monsieur de Brecy here?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is here, young man; what do you want?" asked De Brecy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A letter addressed to you, sir," answered the soldier, advancing -toward him.</p> - -<p class="normal">All eyes turned at once upon the bearer of the letter and him to whom -it was addressed; and De Blondel, who was in command, exclaimed, "A -letter, by the Lord! Unless we have taken to writing letters to one -another, the gates of the old château must be more open than we -thought."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I found it on an arrow-head, sir, just within the east barbican," -replied the soldier.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well. What contains it?" asked the other, impatiently. "News, -or no news, good or bad, Seigneur De Brecy?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"News, and good news," replied Jean Charost, who had by this time -received the letter and unfolded it; "hear what he says;" and he -proceeded to read from the somewhat crooked and irregular lines before -him the following words:</p> - -<p class="normal">"FAITHFUL AND TRUE,--This is to have you know that King Charles is -already on the march for your deliverance. Hold out to the last, and -two days will see the royal banner before Bourges. Let not your -companions slight this notice as they slighted the last; for the -shameful loss of Bourges can only be repaired by the brave defense of -the castle."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He touched us there pretty sharply," said Blondel; "and, 'pon my -life, what he says is true; so I, for one, swear by this flagon of -wine--and if I don't keep my vow may I never drink another--that I -will bury myself under the ruins of the castle before I surrender it. -What say you, gentlemen? Will you all touch the tankard, and take the -vow?"</p> - -<p class="normal">They all swore accordingly; for the chivalrous custom of making such -rash vows had not departed, though Chandos, one of the most remarkable -of vow-makers, had laid his head in the grave nearly half a century -before. It must be confessed, however, that Jean Charost took the oath -unwillingly, for there were lives in that castle dearer to him than -his own.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">This is not a book of battles and sieges--those fire-works of -history -which explode with a brief space of brilliant light, and leave nothing -but dust, and tinder, and darkness. The man who gave an account of the -three great battles of the world, and explained that he meant those -which had permanently affected the destinies of the human race, -probably named three too many. There is nothing so insignificant as a -battle. The invention of the steam-engine was worth a thousand of the -greatest victories that ever were achieved.</p> - -<p class="normal">This is no hook of battles and sieges, and, therefore, I will pass -over lightly the events of the two succeeding days. Suffice it, the -counts of Richmond, Clermont, and Marche pressed the Castle of Bourges -with all the means and appliances they could command. They attacked it -from the country side; they attacked it from the city; they assailed -the gates and barriers sword in hand; they endeavored to escalade the -walls; but they were met at every point with stern and determined -resistance, and though by no means well prepared for defense, the -château held out; the besiegers lost many men, and gained nothing.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the midst of these scenes, Jean Charost was not inactive. Now on -the walls, now at the barricades, and now quietly sitting in the high -upper chamber of the round tower, with Agnes, and his mother, and -their maids plying the busy silk with trembling fingers, he tried to -give encouragement to the soldiery, and to restore confidence and -calmness to the women. There was something in his aspect, something in -the perfect serenity of his look and manner, in the absence of every -sign of agitation and anxiety on his face, which was not without its -effect, and the news which he brought of the speedy coming of the King -of France to the relief of his faithful vassals besieged in Bourges -afforded bright hope and expectation. The services of himself and -those whom he brought were great to the defenders of a citadel too -large for the numbers it contained; and his quiet, unassuming bravery, -his activity and ready presence of mind, won for him that respect -which pretension, even well founded, could not have gained.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I always knew he would make a good soldier," said Juvenel de Royans, -somewhat proud of his friendship and their long companionship; and -Blondel himself, one of the first knights of France, admitted that he -had never seen a clearer head or stronger hand exercised in the hour -of danger.</p> - -<p class="normal">At first sight, it may seem strange to say that the news of the king's -march, which brought hope and relief to the whole garrison--and, in -one sense, to himself also--filled him, when considered in another -point of view, with grief and alarm. But when Jean Charost considered -what must necessarily be the consequence--at a moment when more than -one half of France was in possession of a foreign invader, and the -first vassal of the crown in arms against his sovereign--of an actual -struggle between the monarch in person, and three of those who had -been his chief supporters, his heart sunk as he thought, what might be -the fate of France. During many a moment throughout the first and -second day, when a pause took place in the attack, he meditated -somewhat sadly of these things; but he was not a man only to meditate, -without action; and toward evening he took De Blondel aside to confer -with him as to what was to be done. A few words presented the subject -to the mind of the other in the same light in which it appeared to -himself, and he then said, "I wish you very much to consider this, -Monsieur De Blondel, as I think an opportunity is afforded you of -rendering great service to France. Were I in your place, I would open -negotiations at once with the constable, and represent to him the -consequences that are likely to ensue. It would be no slight honor to -you if you could induce him to cease the attack, and draw off his -forces, even before the king appears, and little less if you could -commence a negotiation which might be carried on after his majesty's -arrival, and heal these unhappy dissensions."</p> - -<p class="normal">"By the Lord," cried Blondel, "if I were the king, I would have the -head of every one of them, who by his insolent ambition and rebellious -spirits gives strength to the arm of our foreign adversary, and takes -away the strength of France. Nevertheless, I suppose he is obliged to -temporize. But there are many difficulties in the way, my good friend. -You are a negotiator, I am told, as well as a soldier. I know nothing -of such things, and should only make a blunder. I should never know -how to use the knowledge we possess of the king's coming without -betraying the secret to the enemy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, leave it to me," said De Brecy. "I will act in your name."</p> - -<p class="normal">De Blondel mused for a minute. "On the condition," he said, at length, -"that there is no talk of surrendering the castle; and also that you -say nothing of the king's movements till he is actually in sight. But -who will you get to go? On my life, the task is somewhat perilous; for -Richmond is just the man either to hang any one who pretends to oppose -his will, or drown him in a sack, as he did Giac."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will go," replied De Brecy. "I have no fear. The constable is -violent, haughty, domineering; but at heart he has a sincere love for -France, a bitter hatred of the English, and devotion to the royal -cause. Giac he scorned, as well as hated; and besides, Giac stood in -his way. Me he neither scorns nor hates, nor wishes to remove. By your -leave, I will send out for a safe-conduct by a flag of truce, and you -shall give me a general authority to treat, though, of course, not to -conclude."</p> - -<p class="normal">De Blondel was easily led in such matters. A good soldier and a -gallant man, he commanded skillfully and fought well; but his -political views were not very far-sighted, and he was one of those -persons who fancy they save themselves half the trouble of decision by -looking only at one side of a question. The authority was given as -amply as Jean Charost desired, and nearly in words of his own -dictation: a flag of truce was sent out to demand a pass for the -Seigneur De Brecy, in order to a conference with the lord constable, -and the bearer speedily returned with the paper required, reporting -that he had remarked much satisfaction among the rebel leaders at the -message which he had carried them, in which they doubtless saw an -indication of some intention to capitulate.</p> - -<p class="normal">A slight degree of agitation was apparent upon Blondel's face, as Jean -Charost, divested of his harness, and armed only with sword and -dagger, prepared to set out upon his enterprise. "I do not half like -to let you go, sir knight," he said. "This Richmond is a very furious -fellow. There is no knowing what he may do."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not fear," repeated Jean Charost. "But, in case of any accident, -De Blondel, I trust in your honor and your kindness to protect the -ladies whom I leave here with you. They have some thirty or forty men -with them who would each shed the last drop of his blood in their -defense; but the honor of a knight, and that knight De Blondel, is a -surer safeguard than a thousand swords."</p> - -<p class="normal">The gates of the castle were soon passed; and the first barricade -which the assailants had raised in the Rue du Château was reached -without question. Some half dozen men were lying on a pile of straw -behind, lighted by a solitary lantern; but two of them started up -immediately, and, though neither of them could read a word of the -pass, they both seemed to have been previously informed of what they -had to do; for they insisted upon bandaging De Brecy's eyes, and -leading him on blindfold, as if conducting him through the works of a -regular fortress. He submitted with a smile; for he knew every step of -the city of Bourges from his childhood, and could almost tell every -house that they passed as he was led along. The tread of the broad -stone sill of the gateway where they at length stopped was quite -familiar to him; and it was without surprise that, on the bandage -being removed, he found himself in the court-yard of his old friend -Jacques Cœur.</p> - -<p class="normal">Conducted up a narrow stair-case, in one of the congregation of square -towers, of which the building principally consisted, he was introduced -into a small, but very tall cabinet, lined with gilt leather hangings. -In the midst stood a table, with three gentlemen surrounding it, and a -lamp, swinging overhead and showing a mass of papers on the board, the -stern, square-cut head of the constable bent over them, the mild and -rather feeble expression of the Count La Marche, and the sharp, -supercilious face of the Count of Clermont.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here is Monsieur De Brecy, I presume," said the latter, addressing -Richmond.</p> - -<p class="normal">The constable started up, and held out his hand frankly, saying, -"Welcome, welcome, De Brecy. Sit down. There's a stool. Well," he -continued, as soon as the guard was gone, and the door closed, "what -cheer in the castle?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Very good cheer, my lord," replied De Brecy. "We have not yet -finished the pullets, and horse-flesh is afar off."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count La Marche laughed; but Richmond exclaimed, somewhat -impatiently, "Come, let us to the point. You are frank and free -usually, De Brecy. Say what terms of capitulation you demand, and you -shall speedily have my answer."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You mistake my object altogether, my lord," replied De Brecy. "The -castle is less likely to capitulate than when first you sat down -before it. There are now men enough within to defend it for a month -against five times your force, unless you shoot better than you have -done these last two days; and we have provisions for some months, as -well for our own mouths as for those of the culverins."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then, in the devil's name, what did you come here for?" exclaimed -Richmond, angrily.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Upon business, my lord," replied De Brecy, "which I should wish to -communicate to you alone."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no. No secrets from these gentlemen," said the constable; and -then added, with a hard, dry laugh, "we are all chickens of one coop, -and share the same grain and the same fate. Speak what you have to say -before them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Be it so, if you desire it, my lord," replied De Brecy. "I came to -offer an humble remonstrance to you, sir, and to point out a few facts -regarding your own situation"--Richmond gave an impatient jerk in his -chair, as if about to interrupt him; but De Brecy proceeded--"and that -of the citadel, which I think have escaped your attention."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, ay; speak of the citadel," answered Richmond. "That is what I -would fain hear of."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have told you, my lord," replied De Brecy, "that the citadel can -and will hold out for more than a month, and nothing that you can do -will take it. Long before that month is at an end, the king himself -will be here to give it relief."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, let him come," exclaimed Richmond, impatiently. "We may have -the citadel before he arrives, for all you say."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think not, sir," answered De Brecy; "and if you knew as much of the -affair as I do, you would say so too. But let us suppose for a moment -that the castle does hold out, and that the king arrives before you -can take it--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps we can deal with both," cried Richmond.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And ruin France!" answered De Brecy. "I will never believe that the -Count of Richmond--the loyal, faithful Count of Richmond--that the -Count of La Marche, allied to the royal race; or the Count of -Clermont, well known for his attachment to the throne, would be seen -fighting against their sovereign at the very moment when, surrounded -by foreign enemies, he is making a last desperate struggle for the -salvation of his country and your own."</p> - -<p class="normal">He turned slightly toward the Count La Marche as he spoke, and -Richmond exclaimed, in a furious tone, "Speak to me, sir. I am -commander here. By the Lord, if you attempt to corrupt my allies, I -will have your head off your shoulders."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You forced me to speak in their presence, my lord," replied Jean -Charost, coolly; "and, whatever I have to say must be said as boldly -as if they were not here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay; let him speak, good cousin," said the Count La Marche. "It -is but right we should hear what he has to say."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My noble lord constable," said Clermont, "can not blame Monsieur De -Brecy for acting on his own orders. We were his dear allies a moment -ago, and partners of all his secrets. Why should we not hear the -young gentleman's eloquence?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Would I were eloquent!" replied De Brecy. "I would then show you, my -lords, what a spectacle it would hold up to the world, to see one of -the first officers of the crown of France, and two of the first -noblemen of the land, from some small personal disgusts at the king's -prime minister, violating their allegiance, frustrating all their -sovereign's efforts to save his country, plunging the state, already -made a prey to enemies by military factions, into greater danger and -confusion than ever, and destroying the last hope for safety in -France."</p> - -<p class="normal">Richmond rolled his eyes from the speaker to the two counts, and from -their faces to that of De Brecy again, while his fingers clasped -ominously round the hilt of his dagger. "Let him do us justice," he -cried; "let him do us justice, and we will sheathe the sword."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Even if he have not done you justice," said De Brecy, boldly, "is -this a moment to unsheathe the sword against your lord--that sword -which he himself put into your hands? Is this a time, when every true -son of France should sacrifice all personal considerations, and shed -the last drop of his blood, were it necessary, for the deliverance of -his country, to take advantage of the difficulties of his sovereign in -order to wring concessions from him by force of arms? But has he not -done you justice, my lord constable? Twice has his minister been -sacrificed to your animosity. A third time you quarrel with the -minister whom you yourself forced upon him, and plunge your unhappy -country, already torn to pieces by strangers, into civil war, because -the king will not, for the third time, submit to your will. Are his -ministers but nine-pins, to be set up and knocked down for your -pleasure? Are they but tools, to be used as you would have them? and -are you an officer of the king, or his ruler?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The constable started up, with his drawn dagger in his hand, and would -probably have cast himself on De Brecy, had not the Count La Marche -interposed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hold, hold!" he cried, throwing himself in the way. "No violence, -Richmond. On my life, he speaks well and truly. We are here for the -public good--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"At least we-pretend so," said the Count of Clermont. "Really, my lord -constable, you had better let Monsieur De Brecy go on, and speak -quietly. We presume that he can say nothing that you would not wish us -to hear, being chickens of the same coop, as you yourself have said; -and the sharp arguments you seemed about to use might convince him, -but could not convince us."</p> - -<p class="normal">Richmond threw himself into his seat again, and thrust the dagger back -into its sheath.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let us consider calmly," said the Count La Marche, "what are to be -the consequences if the king does come to the relief of this castle -before we have taken it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Simply that we shall be besieged in the good city of Bourges," said -the Count of Clermont, "and pass three or four months very pleasantly, -with such diet and exercise as a besieged city usually affords."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Merely to get rid of La Trimouille," said the Count La Marche.</p> - -<p class="normal">The door suddenly opened as he spoke, and a gentleman, armed all but -the head, entered in haste. "I beg your pardon, my lords," he said; -"but I have thought fit to bring you instant intelligence that -trumpets have been heard in the direction of Pressavoix, and some of -the peasantry report that the king is there with a large force."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So soon!" said Richmond.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Got between us and Paris!" said the Count of Clermont.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The very movement is a reproach, my lords," replied De Brecy. "It -shows that the king, unhappily, has been led to infer, from the -surprise of Bourges, that three of the noblest men in France are in -league with the common adversary. Oh, wipe away such a stain from -your names, I beseech you! Send somebody to the king to make -representations, if nothing more; and let not the Englishmen see true -Frenchmen shedding each other's blood, while they are riding -triumphant over the land. My life for it, if you have any real -grievances, they will be redressed when properly represented."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is false!" cried Richmond, vehemently, catching at some of De -Brecy's words, and not heeding the rest. "We have no league with the -enemy. We are faithful vassals of the crown of France; but we can be -loyal to the king without being servile to his minister."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I doubt you not in the least, my lord," replied De Brecy. "Had I -believed you disloyal, I never would have come hither. I have sought -but to show you what language your actions speak, without ever -questioning the truth and, fidelity that is in your heart. All I -beseech you now to do, is to send some one at once to the king to -negotiate terms of accommodation, and to show the loyalty you feel, -before passion lead you into absolute treason."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think the proposal is a very good one," said the Count La Marche. -"We can do no harm by negotiating."</p> - -<p class="normal">"At all events, it will put our adversaries in the wrong," said -Clermont. "What say you, Richmond?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well," said the constable, "I say yea also, although I have -known more great successes cut short, more mighty enterprises -frustrated, more good hopes crushed by small negotiation than by -battle or defeat. However, so be it. Let some one go, though, good -faith, I know not who will be the man, being sure of one thing, that, -were I Tremouille, and a sleek-faced negotiator were to come with -pleasant words from Richmond, La Marche, or Clermont, I would write my -answer on his forehead, and hang him on the first tree I found. When -men have gone as far as we have, to my mind there is no going back. -However, I yield to better judgment. Send some one, if you can find -him."</p> - -<p class="normal">Clermont and La Marche consulted together for a moment or two in a low -tone, and, to say sooth, they seemed sorely puzzled. But at length La -Marche looked up, saying, with some hesitation, "Perhaps Monsieur De -Brecy would undertake the task?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good Lord!" exclaimed the constable, slightly raising his hands and -eyes.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will go willingly," replied De Brecy; "but it can only be, my -lords, to open the negotiation for you. Carry it on I can not, as I am -not of your faction. I shall require a letter under the hand of one or -more of you assuring his majesty of the loyalty of your intentions, -and begging him to appoint persons to confer with yourselves or your -deputies in regard to certain grievances of which you complain. In -this I think I shall succeed; but I will bear you back his majesty's -answer, and after that can take no further share in the affair."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What, then," exclaimed the constable, in a tone of affected surprise, -"you do not propose to rise upon our tombs to higher honor and -preferment?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not in the least," replied De Brecy. "I am here, even at this present -moment, merely as the envoy of Monsieur De Blondel, who sent me to -you, as this authority will show."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pooh, pooh!" said Richmond, in a contemptuous tone. "De Blondel has -no wits either for the conception or the execution of such projects. -But one thing I must exact, Monsieur De Brecy: if we send you to the -king, you must hold no consultations in the castle before you go."</p> - -<p class="normal">De Brecy meditated for a moment, and then replied, "See Monsieur De -Blondel I must, my lord; for I came from him to you, and must render -him an account of what I have done. That account, however, may be very -short. I can have him called to the barriers, and any one of you may -hear what passes. I must, however, have horses and some of my train."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Be it so," said the constable. "I will go with you. You, Clermont, -are a scribe, so write the letter to the king. It will be ready when -we come back. Doubtless you will make it dutiful enough, and you need -not say, unless you wish it, that Richmond is the only obstacle."</p> - -<p class="normal">With this sneer he rose, put his bonnet on his head, and accompanied -De Brecy out of the room. As they went he said little, and at the -barrier, both while Jean Charost waited for Blondel's coming and -during their short conference, stood silent, with his arms crossed -upon his breast. The governor of the castle, indeed, noticed the -constable first, saying, "Give you good-night, my lord;" but Richmond -only bent his head gravely in reply, and spoke but once during the -whole interview, saying, when Jean Charost had given directions -regarding his horses and men, "Send them down to Jacques Cœur's -house, De Blondel, and that as quick as may be, for fear La Marche -should have time to change his mind, and Clermont to fill his letter -so full of tropes that no one can understand it."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLVI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The town and the castle were quiet; the hateful sound of the -rattling -cannon was heard no more; <i>pierrier</i>, <i>veuglaire</i>,<a name="div4Ref_04" href="#div4_04"><sup>[4]</sup></a> -and culverin -were still, and the drum and the trumpet sounded not. When Agnes -looked out of the high window of the great round tower, after a sleep -which had remained unbroken by the clang of war longer than usual, she -could almost have supposed that every thing was peaceful around. The -morning sun shone brightly, the morning air was sweet and fresh, few -soldiers appeared upon the walls of the castle, there was no strife -seen going on in the streets, and it was only the sight of a barricade -immediately below the town gate of the citadel, and a breast-work of -earth some way further down, with half a dozen soldiers loitering -about each, that kept up the memory of a struggle.</p> - -<p class="normal">Although she knew not the cause, Agnes was well pleased; for the very -quiet stillness was a relief, restoring to the mind calmness and hope. -But Agnes's hopes had now taken one particular direction, and her -first thought was, "As there is no active struggle going on, dear Jean -will be with us soon this morning."</p> - -<p class="normal">But Jean Charost came not. An hour passed--an hour beyond the usual -time of his coming--and both his mother and Agnes began to feel alarm. -At length they sent down to inquire; but the answer brought up was, he -had gone out on the preceding night, and had not yet returned.</p> - -<p class="normal">Had the wars and contentions which had raged through the rest of -France prevailed in the neighborhood of Bourges--had Madame da Brecy -and Agnes been accustomed to the scenes of strife and confusion which -reigned in the rest of the country--had they been drilled, as it were, -and disciplined to hourly uncertainty, they might have felt little or -no alarm. But Berri had been nearly free from the evils that scourged -the rest of France, and a wandering troop of Royalist cavalry, or the -sudden inroad of a small band of English or Burgundians, causing them -to raise the draw-bridge and drop the portcullis, was all they knew of -the dangers of the times. Even during the short period they had spent -in the citadel of Bourges, however, Jean Charost had always found -means to spend a short part of each day with them; and although his -not coming at the usual hour might not have caused much apprehension, -the reply that he had gone forth from the castle, and not returned, -agitated them both.</p> - -<p class="normal">The alarm of Agnes, however, was much more than that of Madame De -Brecy. The aged feel this kind of apprehension, from many causes, much -less than the young. Cares and griefs harden the spirit to endure. -Each sorrow has its stiffening influence. Besides, as we approach the -extreme term of life, we are led to value it less highly--to estimate -it properly. When we contemplate it from the flowery beginning of our -days, oh, what a rich treasury of golden hours it seems! and we think -every one like us has the same dower. But as we look back at it when -our portion is nearly spent, we see how little really serviceable to -happiness it has procured, and we judge of others as ourselves. A -friend dies; and, though we may grieve, we think that we may soon meet -again. A friend is in danger, and we feel the less alarm, from a -knowledge that in losing life he loses little--that a few years more -or less are hardly dust in the balance, and that if he be taken away, -it is but that he goes from an inn somewhat near us to his home -further off.</p> - -<p class="normal">Agnes was very anxious. Her's was a quick imagination, active either -in the service of joy or sorrow; and she fancied all that might have -occurred, and much that was not likely. At one time she was inclined -to believe that the commander of the castle was deceiving Madame De -Brecy and herself, anxious to save them pain--that Jean Charost had -been killed, and that De Blondel would not tell them. She little knew -how lightly a hardened soldier could deal with such a matter. Then, -reasoning against her fears, she thought that De Brecy must have gone -forth upon a sally, and been made prisoner, and memory brought back -all the sorrows that had followed Azincourt. But worst of all was the -uncertainty, the toilsome laboring of thought after some definite -conclusion--the ever-changing battle between hope and fear, in which -fear was generally triumphant. She sat at the high window, gazing over -the country round, and watching the different roads within sight. Now -she saw a group coming along toward the gates; but after eager -scanning, it proved nothing but some peasants bringing in provisions -for the soldiery. Then an indistinct mass was seen at a distance; but -long ere it reached Bourges, it turned away in a different direction. -Each moment increased her anxiety and alarm. One hour--two, went by. -Again she saw some one coming, and again was disappointed, and the -long-repressed tears rose in her eyes, the sobs with which she could -struggle no longer burst from her lips.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Agnes, Agnes my child, come hither," cried Madame De Brecy; and -rising from her seat, Agnes cast herself upon her knees beside Jean -Charost's mother, and hid her streaming eyes upon her lap.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is it, my dear Agnes?" asked Madame De Brecy, much moved. "Tell -me, my child; what agitates you thus? Tell me your feelings--all your -feelings, my Agnes. Surely I have been to you ever as a mother: -conceal nothing from me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why does he not come?" asked Agnes, in a voice hardly audible. "Oh, -dear mother, I fear he is ill--he is hurt--perhaps he is--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay," replied Madame De Brecy, "you have no cause for such -agitation, Agnes. A soldier can not command his own time, nor can he, -amid many important tasks, always find the opportunity of letting -those he loves best know his movements, even to relieve their anxiety. -A soldier's wife, my child," she added, putting her arm gently round -the kneeling girl, "must learn to bear such things with patience and -hope--nay, more, must learn to conceal even the anxiety she must feel, -in order to cast no damp upon her husband's spirits, to shackle none -of his energies, and to add nothing to his sorrow of parting even with -herself. Would you like to be a soldier's wife, my Agnes?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know not what I should like," answered Agnes, without raising her -head; but then she added quickly, as if her heart reproached her for -some little insincerity, "Yes, yes, I should; but then I should like -him to be a soldier no longer."</p> - -<p class="normal">A faint smile came upon Madame De Brecy's lip, and she was devising -another question to bring forth some further confession, when through -the open window came the sound of a trumpet, and Agnes, starting up, -darted back to her place of watching.</p> - -<p class="normal">Oh, how eagerly she dashed away the tears that dimmed her eyes; and -the next instant she exclaimed, with a radiant, rosy look of joy, -which rendered all further confession needless, "It is he--it is he! -There are a great number with him--some twenty or thirty; but I can -see him quite plainly. It is he!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Hardly five minutes elapsed, and Agnes had barely time to clear her -face of the traces of emotion it displayed, when Jean Charost's step -sounded on the stairs, and the next moment he was in the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">Very strange, Agnes did not fly to meet him. Agnes uttered no word of -gratulation. But she stood and trembled; for there are sometimes -things as full of awe discovered, within the heart, as any which can -strike our outward senses, and a vail had been withdrawn which exposed -to her sight things which, when first seen, were fearful as well as -dazzling.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Joy, dear mother--joy, dearest Agnes," said De Brecy, holding out a -hand to each. "Your prison hours are over. A truce is proclaimed, -negotiations for reconciliation going on, and you have nothing to do -but mount and ride away with me. Quick with your preparations, dearest -mother--quick, my sweet Agnes!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do not hurry her, my son," said Madame De Brecy, kindly. "She has -been very much terrified by your long absence, and has hardly yet -recovered. She shall go in the litter with me, and I will tell Suzette -to get all ready for her."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Terrified for me, dearest Agnes!" said Jean Charost, as his mother -left the room; and he took her hand in his, and gazed into her face. -"Did they not give you the message I sent last night?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," answered Agnes, in a low tone. "They only told us this morning, -when we sent to inquire, that you had gone forth, and had not -returned. How could they be so cruel. One word from you would have -saved us hours of pain."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are trembling now," said Jean Charost, still holding her hand. -"What would you do, dear Agnes, if you were a soldier's wife?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your mother asked me the same," answered Agnes, with a faint smile, -"and I told her I did not know. I can but make you the same answer, -Jean. I suppose all a woman can do is to love and tremble."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And could you love a soldier?" asked De Brecy, in a very earnest -tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh that I could." murmured Agnes, trembling more than ever.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost led her toward a seat, and as she trembled still, and he -feared she would fall, he put his arm around her waist, merely to -support her. It had been there a thousand times before, in years long -past, when she had stood by his side or sat upon his knee; but the -touch was different now to both of them. It made his heart thrill and -beat; it made hers nearly stop altogether.</p> - -<p class="normal">She was so pale, he thought she would faint; and instinct prompted -that the safest way was that of the proverb--to speak true words in -jest. So, in a gay tone, he said, as he seated himself beside her, -still holding his arm round her waist, "Well, I'll tell you, dearest -Agnes, how it shall be. When you have refused some half a dozen other -soldiers, you shall marry Jean Charost; and I will give you leave to -love as much as you like, and to tremble as little as possible."</p> - -<p class="normal">Agnes suddenly raised her eyes to his face with a look of earnest -inquiry, and then her cheek became covered with crimson, and she -leaned her head upon his bosom.</p> - -<p class="normal">She said nothing, however, and he asked, in a low and gentle tone, -"Shall it be so, dearest Agnes?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," she answered, wiping away some tears. "I do not wish to refuse -any one else."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, then I must make haste," said Jean Charost, "for fear you should -accept any one else. Will you be my wife, my own sweetest love?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Again she answered not; but her small, soft fingers pressed gently on -his hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, but I must have a word," said Jean Charost, drawing her closer -to him; "but one word, dear girl. That little hand can not speak so -clearly as those dear lips."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, do not tease me," said Agnes, raising her head for a moment, and -taking a glance at his face. "I hardly know whether you are bantering -me or not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Bantering you!" said Jean Charost, in a graver tone. "No, no, my -love. I am not one to banter with your happiness or my own; and mine, -at least, is staked upon this issue. For all that the world contains -of joyful or of fortunate, I would not peril yours, Agnes. For this, -when Monsieur De Brives sought your hand, I hid my love for you in my -own heart, lest ancient regard and youthful fondness for an old dear -friend, should bias your judgment toward one unsuited to you. For -this, I would fain have let you see a little more of life before I -bound you by any tie to one much older than yourself. But I can -refrain no longer, Agnes; and, having spoken, I must know my fate. -Will you be mine, sweet love?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, yes--yes!" said Agnes, throwing her arm round his neck. "I am -yours. I ever have been yours. I ever will be yours. You can not make -me otherwise, do as you will."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will never try," replied Jean Charost, kissing her. "Dear mother," -he continued, as Madame De Brecy re-entered the room, "here is now -your daughter, indeed. I know you can not love her more than you do; -but you will love her now for my sake, as well as her own."</p> - -<p class="normal">Madame De Brecy held wide her arms, and Agnes flew to her bosom. "My -child, my dear child," said the old lady. "But calm yourself, Agnes; -here is Martin Grille, come to say the litter is ready. Let us go."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, I thought how it would be," said Martin Grille to himself. "I -never saw dear friendships between a man under forty and a girl under -sixty end otherwise. My lord, the litter is ready, and all the -men-at-arms you named. The rest, however, seem somewhat surly at being -left behind; for I think they have had enough of being besieged. I am -sure I have. I shall not get that big gun out of my head for the next -month."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Tell them there is a truce for three days," said Jean Charost; "and -if, at the end of that time, war is not at an end, I will return and -join them. We must not strip the castle of its defenders."</p> - -<p class="normal">In a few minutes Jean Charost and his little cavalcade were beyond the -walls of Bourges; but Madame De Brecy remarked that they did not take -the way toward their own well-loved home, but, passing the River -Langis, directed their course toward Pressavoix. "Where are you taking -us, Jean?" she said to her son, who was riding beside the litter.</p> - -<p class="normal">"To the castle of Felard, my dear mother," replied Jean Charost. "I -promised the queen that I would bring you and Agnes thither for a day. -I am in great favor at court now," he added, gayly, "for having had -some share in bringing about this negotiation. The king, indeed, seems -somewhat moody and irritable, but not with me; and he insists that I -shall take part in the conferences to be held this night at -Pressavoix. Nay, dearest mother; no objections on the score of dress -and equipment; for, let me tell you, the court is in traveling guise -as well as we are, and you will find more soiled and dusty apparel -there than we bring into it."</p> - -<p class="normal">Madame De Brecy was in some trepidation; for it was long, long since -she had moved in courts, and the retired and quiet life which she had -passed for years unfitted her for such scenes. She made no opposition, -however; and, in somewhat less than half an hour, the little cavalcade -began to fall in with the outposts of the king's army. There was no -difficulty in passing them, however; for, from the moment the truce -was proclaimed, the soldiers on both posts concluded that some -agreement would be arrived at between the different factions, and -began to mingle together with as much gayety and good-will as if they -had never drawn the sword against each other. Groups were seen -galloping about the fields in different directions, standing and -talking together upon the road, riding rapidly about to and fro -between Pressavoix and Bourges, and the scene presented all the gayety -and brilliancy of war, without any of its terrors.</p> - -<p class="normal">Shortly after passing the second line of posts upon the high-road, -Jean Charost led the way down a narrow lane, which seemed to plunge -into a deep, heavy wood. All was now quiet and solitary, and nothing -but the waving branches of great old trees was seen around for nearly -half a mile. The undulations of the ground were so slight that no -eminence gave a view over the prospect, and all that varied their -course as they advanced were the strongly-contrasted lines of light -and shade that crossed the road from time to time. At length, however, -the lane turned sharply, an open space was presented to view, and the -ancient château of Felard, which has long since given place to the -present modern structure, rose upon the sight in the midst. It had -towers and turrets, walls, ditch, and draw-bridge, like most large -country houses at that time; but it was by no means defensible against -any regular force, and was only chosen for the residence of the court -on account of the accommodation it afforded. Charles VII. had not yet -learned to dread the approach of his subjects to his person, to see -poison in his food, and an enemy in every stranger, and the gates were -wide open, without guards, and nothing but a few pages in attendance, -lingering about.</p> - -<p class="normal">Descending in the outer court, Jean Charost assisted his mother and -Agnes to alight, and then led them on to the principal entrance of the -building, where they were shown into a vacant chamber, to wait the -pleasure of the queen.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Have the courtesy," said Jean Charost to the page, "to let Messire -Jacques Cœur know that I am here, after you have informed the -queen;" and, turning to his mother, whose face brightened at the name -of her old friend, he added, "I only saw him for an instant last -night; but his presence was most serviceable in obtaining for me -speedy audience."</p> - -<p class="normal">At the end of about five minutes, the door opened, and a lady entered -alone, the richness of whose apparel, and perhaps still more, the -brilliance of her beauty, made Madame De Brecy suppose that she beheld -the queen. Jean Charost, however, addressed her as Mademoiselle De St. -Geran, and introduced his mother and Agnes to her, not altogether -without some embarrassment in his manner.</p> - -<p class="normal">Agnes Sorel did not seem to remark it, however, spoke frankly and -kindly to Madame De Brecy, and then, turning to Agnes, gazed upon her -with a look of deep interest. "So this is your Agnes," she said, -turning to Jean Charost. "Oh, De Brecy, do not bring her into courts. -They are not places for such a flower as this. Is not that a hard -speech, my dear young lady? Doubtless, your young imagination has -painted courts as very brilliant places; but I myself know, from sad -experience, that they are fields where little grows but sorrows, -disappointments, and regrets."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have no inclination, indeed, madam, ever to mingle with them," -replied Agnes.</p> - -<p class="normal">But Agnes Sorel was by this time in a deep fit of meditation, and -seemed not to hear the fair girl's reply. After a minute's silence, -however, she turned quickly to Jean Charost, and said, "Why did you -name her Agnes?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Youthful regard for yourself, I believe, was the chief motive," he -answered, frankly. "I had seen you, dear lady, in many a trying -situation. You had generously, nobly befriended me, even at that time, -and I wished this dear girl to be like you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Agnes shook her head slowly and sorrowfully, with an air which seemed -to speak as plainly as words, "You wish so no longer." Suddenly, -however, she roused herself, and said, with a sweet smile, "I had -almost forgotten my duty. Her majesty has commanded me to bring you to -her apartments. If you will follow me, Madame De Brecy, I will show -you the way, and afterward will show you your lodging."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLVII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Just behind the old stone cross on the green of the little -village of -St. Privé, about half a mile south of Pressavoix, a large pavilion was -erected, not far from the bank of the river. Between the two poles -which supported it was spread a great table covered with writing -materials, with two or three candlesticks placed in no very seemly -order. Two men, who appeared to be clerks, were seated at the table -mending pens, and venting dry jokes at one another; and round about -the pavilion, at the distance of about fifty yards on either side, -patrolled a number of archers of the King's Guard, to keep prying eyes -and curious ears afar. For about a quarter of an hour, the tent -remained vacant of all but the clerks; but at the end of that time a -group of several gentlemen entered it, and took their place on the -northern side of the table, not sitting down, but standing together -conversing earnestly, though in low tones. Shortly after, Jean Charost -and Monsieur De Blondel appeared, and, joining the others, took part -in their conversation. Then came Richmond, La Marche, and Clermont, -with several other gentlemen of their faction; but these remained to -the south of the table, although an occasional word or two passed -between them and those on the other side.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Does his majesty come in person?" said Richmond at length, in his -deep-toned voice.</p> - -<p class="normal">"On my life, I know not," replied Blondel; "but, of course, I should -suppose not, my lord constable."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then what do we wait for?" asked Richmond, again.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Monsieur De la Trimouille is, I believe, commissioned by the king to -treat--" said Jean Charost; "at least, I heard so, my lord, while I -was at the castle of Felard."</p> - -<p class="normal">"By the Lord, he must come soon, then," said Richmond, with a -discontented air, "or no treating will there be at all; for I am not -going to lackey a Trimouille, and wait upon his lordship's pleasure."</p> - -<p class="normal">A few minutes more passed in gloomy silence, and then the sound of -horses coming fast was heard upon the road, through the canvas walls -of the tent.</p> - -<p class="normal">The next instant, La Trimouille himself, a tall, powerful, handsome -man, entered the pavilion, leaning on the arm of Juvenel de Royans, -his countryman and connection, and followed by Dunois and several -others.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I beg your pardon, gentlemen, for keeping you waiting," he said, with -the blandest possible smile; "but I had to hear his majesty's -pleasure, in order that there might be no doubt or difficulty upon our -part. Let us be seated, and discuss this matter."</p> - -<p class="normal">Each one took his seat at the table without much order, the party of -the king on one side--for kings were at heads of parties in those, -days--and the party of the three counts on the other. A pause ensued, -which seemed to fret the spirit of Richmond; for at length he spoke, -after giving a snort like a wild horse, exclaiming, "Some one -speak--in Heaven's name! What are we here for? Not to sit silent, I -suppose. Speak, Trimouille!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Right willingly, my lord constable," replied Trimouille. "You are -aware you are in arms against the king your sovereign."</p> - -<p class="normal">"False to begin with," cried Richmond. "I am in arms against favorites -and court flatterers--in arms to restore to the king the right use of -his own authority, for the good of the nation and the safety of the -land."</p> - -<p class="normal">"In arms against me, you would say," replied Trimouille, with a dark -spot on his brow which belied the smile upon his lips. "But let us -hear what you complain of. I know of nothing done by me which can -justify such acts as yours. However, if you have cause, state it -before these gentlemen here present, who are commissioned by his -majesty, as well as myself, to inquire into this matter, and will -report to him every word you say without gloss or comment, such as you -accuse me of making. What are your griefs, my lords?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Heavy enough," said Richmond, sternly. "Your ingratitude, Trimouille, -I could pass over; but--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"My ingratitude!" exclaimed the king's minister. "I know not that you -have given me cause to be grateful or ungrateful."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did I not place you where you are?" demanded Richmond. "Did I not -remove better men than yourself to place you there? Did I not force -Louvet from the council to make room for you, and punish the audacity -of Beaulieu--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"And drown Giac," said the Count of Clermont, with a sarcastic smile; -and all around the table laughed, except Trimouille himself, who had -married the dangerous widow of the deceased nobleman. He waved his -hand, however, saying, "This is all trifling. I hold the place I -occupy by the king's favor and approval, and by the act of no other -man. But you are in arms, you say, for the public service. What has -been done to give you a color for this pretense?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will tell you speedily," replied Richmond, bitterly. "You have -frustrated all my plans for the service of the state. During this last -campaign in Brittany, you kept me idle before Pontorson, for want of -men and money, or it would have fallen a week before it did. The same -was the case before St. James, and now, for the last four months, not -a livre have I been able to wring from your hands, either for my own -pay or to keep my men on foot."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have been able to keep them on foot to war against your monarch," -said Trimouille, bitterly; "but I will meet the charge with frankness -and truth. I have not sent you money when you demanded it, for the -same reason that I did not send any to my lord the Count of La Marche -here, to whom I eagerly wished to send it--simply because I had it not -to send."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A mere pretense," exclaimed Richmond, striking the table with his -fist, and rising as he spoke. "We have found in the papers of Jacques -Cœur, which we seized in Bourges, proof positive that a large sum -was sent to Chinon at the very time you refused my demand."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Which was all forestalled before it came," said La Trimouille. But -his voice was drowned by the angry tones of the constable, who -exclaimed, "If we are again to be put off with such pitiful excuses as -that, negotiations can produce no good;" and he turned to leave the -tent.</p> - -<p class="normal">The counts of La Marche and Clermont rose also; but Jean Charost -exclaimed, "Stay, I beseech you, my lords. Consider what you are -doing--casting away the safety of France, giving her up a prey to the -enemy, not only sacrificing your loyalty to your king, but your duty -to your country. If there be one particle of patriotism, or of -generosity, or of honor in you, stay and listen to what Monsieur La -Trimouille has to propose."</p> - -<p class="normal">The word "propose" was happily chosen, holding out vague ideas of -advantages to be obtained which affected both Clermont and La Marche.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What shall we do, Richmond?" said the latter, in a hesitating tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, if you will," said the constable, gruffly. "You can act for me, -if you choose to remain. I shall go; for I only lose my temper."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he quitted the tent. La Marche and Clermont hesitated for -a moment, and then returned to their seats; the latter observing, with -a quiet sneer, that the constable lately gave them more fire than -light.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, gentlemen," said Trimouille, in his most placable tones, "now -this hot spirit is gone, we are likely, meseems, to come to some -result. Pray let me hear your demands."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count La Marche turned a somewhat puzzled look toward the Count of -Clermont, and the latter laughed gayly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Speak, I beseech you," said La Trimouille. "What are your demands?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, the first of them we decided upon," replied the Count of -Clermont, "was one so unpleasant to utter, that it sticks in the -throat of La Marche here--simply your removal from the council of the -king, Monsieur La Trimouille."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will not stand in the way," replied the minister, with the utmost -frankness of manner. "No personal interest of mine shall prevent an -accommodation. But upon this point the king alone can, of course, -decide. It shall be referred to him, exactly as you state it. Let us -pass on to other things. What more do you demand?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, we would rather hear what you have to propose," said the Count -of Clermont, who began to doubt how the negotiations would turn.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will willingly take the lead," said Trimouille; "for his majesty's -intentions are kind and generous. First, however, it is necessary to -state how matters stand, in order to show that it is by no compulsion -the king acts, but merely from his gracious disposition. Here are -three noblemen, two of them closely allied to the blood royal, take -arms against their sovereign at a time when disunion is likely to be -fatal to the state. The two I have mentioned, his majesty believes to -have been misled by the third, an imperious, violent man, -overestimating both his services and his abilities--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay," cried the Count La Marche.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hear me out," said La Trimouille; "a man who pretends to dictate to -the king who shall be his ministers, and publicly boasts of placing -and displacing them at his pleasure. These three noblemen actually -seize upon a royal city, and besiege the royal garrison in the -citadel. The king, judging it necessary to check such proceedings at -once, marches against them as rebels--and in great force. To speak -plainly, my lords, you have five thousand men in and about Bourges; he -has ten thousand men between you and Paris, five thousand more arrived -an hour ago at La Vallée, and a large force under La Hire is marching -up from Chateauroux."</p> - -<p class="normal">He paused, and the countenances of the constable's party fell -immensely. However, the Count of Clermont replied, with his usual -sarcastic smile, "A perilous situation as you represent it, my good -lord; but methinks I have heard an old fable which shows that men and -lions may paint pictures differently."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You will find my picture the true one, Clermont," said La Trimouille, -coolly. "I have I taken care not to exaggerate it in the least, and -both the generosity with which the king treats you, and the firmness -with which his majesty will adhere to his determinations, will prove -to you that he is convinced of these facts likewise. He is desirous, -however, that Frenchmen should never be seen shedding Frenchmen's -blood, and therefore he proposes, in mitigation of all griefs, real or -supposed, and also as a mark of his love and regard for his good -cousin, the Count of La Marche, to bestow upon him the fief of -Besançon. To you, Monsieur De Clermont, he offers to give the small -town of Montbrison, or some other at your choice, of equal value. To -the other noblemen and gentlemen I see around you, and whose names -were furnished to me this morning, each a benefice, the list of which -I have here; and all this upon the sole condition that they return to -their loyalty, and serve the crown against the common enemy, with -zeal, fidelity, and obedience."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And the Count of Richmond," said La Marche. I</p> - -<p class="normal">"What for the constable?" asked the Count of Clermont.</p> - -<p class="normal">A heavy frown came upon La Trimouille's brow. He had remarked keenly -the effect produced upon the constable's companions by the offers -made, and saw that the faction was in reality broken up; and he -replied, in a slow, stern tone, "Permission for him to retire -unmolested to Parthenay, and live in peace and privacy."</p> - -<p class="normal">A dead silence pervaded all the tent, which was first broken by Jean -Charost, who saw both peril and injustice in the partiality just -shown, and attributed it rightly to La Trimouille's personal enmity -toward his former friend.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, my good lord," he exclaimed. "Surely his majesty will be moved -to some less strict dealing with the lord constable."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What, you sir!" cried La Trimouille, in a sharp and angry tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, my good lord," replied De Brecy. "I had his majesty's own -commands to be present here, and, as he said, to moderate between -contending claims, and I shall feel it my duty to urge him strongly to -reconsider the question in regard to the Count of Richmond, whom I do -not mean to defend for the part he has taken with these two noble -counts; but who has formerly served the crown well, and is only a -sharer in the same faults as themselves."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You had better be silent, Monsieur De Brecy," said La Trimouille, -with a lowering brow.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord, I was not sent here to be silent," said De Brecy, "and, in -speaking, I only obey the king's commands."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then go to the king, and hear what he says now," said La Trimouille, -putting on a more placable air. "I have seen him since yourself, and -received his last directions. Go to him, I say; I am quite willing."</p> - -<p class="normal">De Brecy fell into the trap. "I will," he said, rising. "If you will -proceed with all other points, I will be back before you can -conclude."</p> - -<p class="normal">La Trimouille saw him depart with a smile; but no sooner heard his -horse's feet, than, sure of his advantage, he hurried on all the -proceedings of the conference, threw in an inducement here, promised a -greater advantage there, employed all the means he had kept in reserve -of working upon the selfishness of the constable's late confederates, -and in less than twenty minutes had triumphed completely over faith, -and friendship, and generosity to Richmond. He made the descent easy, -however, by leaving all questions concerning the constable to be -settled afterward, and succeeded in obtaining a written promise from -La Marche and Clermont to return to their duty, and submit to the -king's will, without any condition whatever in favor of Richmond.</p> - -<p class="normal">His leave-taking was hasty as soon as this was accomplished; and, -mounting his horse with all speed, he galloped back to Felard as fast -as he could go. There, approaching the building by the back, he -hurried up to the king's apartments, and inquired, eagerly, if -Monsieur De Brecy had obtained admission.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, my lord," replied the attendant. "His majesty was fatigued, and -lay down to rest for an hour. We, therefore, refused Monsieur De Brecy -admission."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You must not refuse me," said La Trimouille.</p> - -<p class="normal">The man hesitated; but the minister passed him boldly, and knocked at -a door on the opposite side of the ante-room. A moment after, he -disappeared within, and then the murmur of conversation was heard, -apparently eager, but not loud. At the end of some five minutes, La -Trimouille looked out, saying to the attendants, "If Monsieur De Brecy -returns to seek an audience, tell him his majesty will see him at the -general reception this evening, for which he is invited;" and then -drawing back, he closed the door.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLVIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Many are the perils of greatness, but among them all, there -are few -more disastrous than that of being subject continually to influences -the most corrupt, which poison the stream of human action almost at -the fountain-head. False representations, sneers, innuendoes, -mis-statements, are ever fluttering about the heads of princes, guard -themselves how they will against them; and I have seen the base, the -treacherous, the coward, and the fool raised to office, honor, and -emolument; the good, the wise, the just, and the true rejected, -neglected, and despised by men, not feeble-minded, not corrupt -themselves, but strong in intellect, clear of sight, and with the -highest and the noblest purposes. Princes and powerful men can but, as -others do, judge and decide from what they see and hear, and the very -atmosphere around them is misty with falsehood, their very closet is -an echo which repeats little else but lies.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a great hall in the château of Felard, and in it, about nine -o'clock, were assembled many of the prime nobility of France. Gay -habits were there, and handsome forms; and, being so numerous, the -party of course comprised some who were good and wise. It consisted -principally of men, indeed; but there were ladies likewise -present--the queen herself, Agnes Sorel, several high dames of Berri, -and ladies attending upon the court. The young king, graceful and -handsome, stood at the upper end of the hall, by the side of his wife; -and various guests from time to time advanced, spoke a few words to -him, and passed on. All seemed gay and smiling. The news had spread -around that the principal conditions of a treaty of accommodation with -the late rebels had been signed, and joy and satisfaction at a result -so greatly to be desired, yet which had been so little expected, -spread a cheerfulness like sunshine over all. Little did he who had -first suggested the steps which had led to such a conclusion, and had -principally contributed to their adoption, dream at that moment of the -evil that awaited himself.</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost, after several persons of higher station than himself had -passed the king's presence, advanced with a grave air from the end of -the circle near which he stood. His countenance was calm and well -assured, though thoughtful, and his eyes were raised direct to the -monarch. He could see a dark cloud suddenly come upon Charles's face, -and La Trimouille, who was at some little distance from the king, -immediately drew nearer to him. The king bowed his head somewhat -ungraciously in answer to the young nobleman's salutation, and then, -seeing him pause without passing on, said, harshly, "What is it, -Monsieur de Brecy? Speak, if you have any thing to say."</p> - -<p class="normal">De Brecy instantly divined that the king had been prepossessed; but -that ancient spirit in him, which had led him, when a mere boy with -the Duke of Orleans, to speak his mind plainly, had not been beaten -out of him, even by all the hard blows of the world, and he replied, -with one glance at his mother and Agnes, who stood at a little -distance from the queen, but whom he could have well wished absent, "I -have something to say, sire, which I would not venture to say at -present, had you not yourself appointed me this as my hour of -audience."</p> - -<p class="normal">The king slowly nodded his head, as if directing him to proceed; and -Jean Charost continued, "To-night, by your commands, I took part in a -conference at Pressavoix, and gladly found that your majesty was -disposed to be most gracious to a number of your vassals and subjects -who had ventured to take arms upon very shallow pretexts against your -authority. Although no motive was necessary to explain your clemency, -the motive which Monsieur La Trimouille did express, was to reunite -all Frenchmen in the service of the country. One solitary exception -was made in this act of grace and goodness, and that exception was -against a nobleman who, whatever may have been his faults lately, has, -in times past, served the crown with zeal, skill, and courage."</p> - -<p class="normal">The frown was darkening more and more heavily on Charles's brow every -moment; but he did not speak, and Jean Charost went on boldly, "I have -ventured to believe, sire, that you might be led to mitigate the -severity of your just anger against the constable, and to consider -former services as well as present faults, to remember how useful he -has been, and may be still to France, and might be even induced to -extend to him the same grace and favor which you hold out to his -comrades in offense."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did you hear my will expressed by Monsieur La Trimouille?" demanded -the king, sternly, and in a loud tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I heard what he was pleased to say was your will, sire," replied De -Brecy; "but I presumed to differ with Monsieur La Trimouille, and to -believe that by proper representations to your majesty, which I -imagined had not been made, you might be brought to reconsider your -decision, and be gracious in all, as well as in part."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And you expressed that difference at the council-table?" said -Charles.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I did, sire," replied De Brecy, "judging it necessary to the safety -of France to do so."</p> - -<p class="normal">"For which, sir," said the king aloud, and using the imperious plural -representing the many powers united in a king; "for which, sir, we -banish you from our court and presence, and make you share the -punishment of the fault you have defended. You did your best to -frustrate our purposes intrusted to the execution of our minister. You -nearly rendered abortive his efforts to bring about a pacification, -necessary to the welfare of the country; and it is probable that, had -you remained on the spot, that pacification would not have been -accomplished. We would have you know, and all know, that we will be -obeyed. We have punished his rebellion in the Count of Richmond more -leniently, perhaps, than his offense required, taking into full -consideration his former services, but weighing well the fact that he -was the head and leader, the chief and instigator of the conspiracy, -in which the rest were but his deluded followers. Unwarned by his -example, you thought fit to oppose our will at our very council-table, -and we therefore inflict on you the same punishment as on him. The -only grace we can grant you is to leave you the choice of your -retreat, within ten miles of which, wherever it may be, we require you -to limit your movements. Say whither you will go."</p> - -<p class="normal">The first part of the king's speech had surprised and confounded De -Brecy; but he gradually recovered himself as the monarch went on. He -had long seen that Trimouille had sought to establish an almost -despotic authority over the court of France, and he easily divined -that Charles was not speaking his own sentiments, but those of his -minister. This was some consolation, and he had completely recovered -himself before the king ended. It was more by chance, however, than -any thing else that, thus suddenly called upon, he fixed on a place of -retreat. "By your majesty's permission," he replied, "I will retire to -Briare. I have, however, some weighty business to conclude, having -been too much engaged in your majesty's service to visit De Brecy for -several years. May I have permission to remain yet a few days in this -part of the country?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"We give you three days," said the king, coldly inclining his head.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It will need every exertion to accomplish what I have to do in the -time," answered Jean Charost, with much mortification in his tone. "I -will, therefore, beg leave to retire to De Brecy this very night. -Come, my dear mother--come, Agnes," he continued, taking a step back.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hold!" cried the king. "Madame De Brecy, of course we do not oppose -your departure with your son; but as for this young lady, we have had -reason to believe very lately, that the right to her guardianship -exists in us, rather than in Monsieur De Brecy. She must remain at our -court, and under the protection of the queen, till such time, at -least, as the matter is inquired into."</p> - -<p class="normal">A red, angry glow spread over De Brecy's face; and Agnes herself was -starting forward, as if to cling to him in that moment of anguish and -indignation; but Agnes Sorel laid her hand upon her arm and held her -back, whispering eagerly, "Do not oppose the king now. If you refrain, -all may yet be well. Resist you can not, and opposition will be -destruction."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He has brought her up from her infancy, my lord the king," said -Madame De Brecy, in an imploring tone. "I know of no one who could -have so good a right to her guardianship as himself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Dare he venture to say that he has any right to her guardianship at -all?" asked the king; "that that guardianship is his by blood, or that -he has received it from one competent to give it?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps not, sire," replied De Brecy, boldly. "But I know of no one -who has a better right than myself."</p> - -<p class="normal">His eyes were flashing, his face heated, his whole frame trembling -with emotion; and, with his free and possibly rash habit of expressing -his thoughts, it is impossible to tell what he might have said; but -Dunois and Juvenel de Royans took him by the arms, and forcibly drew -him away from the king's presence toward a door at the end of the line -of ladies and gentlemen, on the king's right hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">As this painful and exciting scene had proceeded, the open space -before the monarch had been gradually crowded, the ring around had -become narrower and narrower, and De Brecy was soon lost to the -monarch's eyes in the number of persons about him. Dunois paused for a -moment there, urging something to which Jean Charost gave no heed; but -nearly at the same instant a small hand was laid upon his arm, and the -voice of Agnes Sorel said, in a low, earnest tone, "Leave her to me, -De Brecy; leave her to me. I know all you fear; but, by my Christian -faith, I will protect her, and guard her from all evil. Here, -here--give your mother your arm; and, for Heaven's sake, for your own -sake, for her sake, do not irritate the king."</p> - -<p class="normal">De Brecy heard no more; but, with the heaviest heart that had ever -rested in his bosom, suffered Dunois to lead him from the hall.</p> - -<p class="normal">Juvenel de Royans followed, and, when they leached the vestibule -beyond, he wrung De Brecy's hand hard, saying, "This is my fault--all -my foolish chattering. But, by the Lord, I will set it right before I -have done, or I will cut my cousin Trimouille's heart out of his -body;" and with those words he turned sharply and re-entered the hall.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLIX.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">For Jean Charost, a period of lethargy--I may almost call -it--succeeded the scene last described. A dull, idle, heavy dream--a -torpor of the spirit as well as of the body. It is not the man of many -emotions who has the deepest: it is he who has the power, either from -temperament or force of character, to resist them. His spirit has not -been worn by them; his heart has not been soiled by them; and when at -length they seize upon him, and conquer him, they have something to -grasp.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was thus with him. In early life he had never known love. The -circumstances in which he had been placed, the constant occupation, -the frequent moving from place to place, and the absence of any of -those little incidents which plant and nourish passion, had left his -life without the record of any thing more than a mere passing -inclination. But when love seized upon him, it took possession of him -entirely, filled him for a few days with hope and joy, and now plunged -him into that spiritless lethargy. The events which were passing -around him in France came upon him as a vision. Like the ancient -prophet, he saw things in a trance, but having his eyes open; and they -must be pictured to the reader in the same way that they appeared to -him.</p> - -<p class="normal">A large, fine city, on a beautiful river, is besieged by a numerous -army. Its fortifications are old and insufficient, the troops within -it scanty, the preparations small. The cannon thunder upon it, mines -explode beneath its walls, the enemy march to its assault; but they -are driven back, and Orleans remains untaken. There is a bridge, the -key, as it were, to the city. It is attacked, defended, attacked -again. An old castle seems its only protection. The castle is -attacked, and taken by the enemy; and a man of magnificent presence, -calm, and grave, and gentle, mounts the highest tower therein, to -direct his soldiery against the city. Suddenly, the stone ball of a -large cannon strikes the window at which he stands; and Salisbury is -carried away to die a few hours after of his wounds.</p> - -<p class="normal">The city still holds out; the attacks have diminished in fierceness; -but round about the devoted place the English lines are drawn on every -side, pressing it closer and closer, till famine begins to reign -within the walls. There is a battle in the open fields, some miles -from the besieged place. Wagons and tumbrils are in the midst, and -gallant men, with the lily banner over them, fight bravely; but fight -in vain. They fly--at length they fly. The bravest hearts in France -turn from the fatal field, and all is rout, and slaughter, and defeat. -Surely, surely Orleans must fall, and all the open country beyond the -Loire submit to the invader.</p> - -<p class="normal">Let us turn away our eyes from this scene to another. The king's -council has assembled at Chinon; the news of the defeat has reached -them. Hope, courage, constancy are lost. They advise their monarch to -abandon Orleans to its fate; to abandon Berri and Touraine, and make -his last struggle in the mountains of Auvergne. The counsels of -despair had been spoken, nor is it wonderful that a young man fond of -pleasure, ruled by favorites, weary of strife, contention, and cabal, -should listen to them with a longing for repose, and tranquillity, and -enjoyment. Oh, how often is it, in this working-day world of ours, -that the most active, the most energetic, the most enduring, thirsts, -with a burning thirst, such as the wanderer of the desert hardly -knows, for the cool refreshment of a little peace. He stands in his -own cabinet, not quite alone; for there is a beautiful figure kneeling -at his feet. She raises her eyes to his face with looks of love and -tenderness, yet full of energy and fire. "Never, never, my Charles!" -she says. "Never, my king and master! Oh, never let it be said that -France's king embraced the counsels of fear, rather than of courage; -fled without need--turned from his enemy before he was defeated! It is -God's will that gives the victory; but it is for you to struggle for -it. What if the courage of the people of Orleans faint? what if a -battle is lost? what if the English pass the Loire!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"All this is true, or will be true within a month, my Agnes," replied -the king, in a tone of deep despondency. "I can not prevent it. -Suppose it happened; what can I do then?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mount your horse. Set your lance in rest. Give your standard -to the wind. Call France around you. March against the -enemy--fight--fight--and, if need be, die! I will go with you--die -with you, if it must be so. There is nothing for me but you and France -on earth. God pardon us that it is so; but I have given, and you have -taken from me all else."</p> - -<p class="normal">Charles shook his head mournfully; and Agnes rose slowly from her -knees, and drew a step back. "Then pardon me, my lord," she said, "if -I retire from your royal court to that of his highness the Duke of -Bedford. It was predicted to me long ago, by a learned astrologer, -that I should belong to the greatest prince of my time. I fondly -fancied I had found him; but I must have been mistaken." And she -retired still further, as if to quit the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, Agnes, stay!" cried Charles. "Stay, if you love me!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Agnes sprang back again, and cast her arms around his neck. "Love -you!" she cried; "God knows I love you but too well; and though our -love has humbled, debased, and dishonored me, if it is to last, it -must raise, and elevate, and animate you. For my sake, Charles, if not -for your own, cast the base thoughts which others have suggested far -away. Take the nobler part which your own heart would prompt; dare -all, encounter all, and save France, yourself, and Agnes; for be sure -I will never outlive the freedom of my country. There is many a noble -heart yet beating in our France. There is many a strong arm yet ready -to strike for her; and it needs but the appearance of the king in the -field, and proofs of strong determination upon his part, to quell the -factions which distract the land, and gather every noble spirit round -his king. Whatever your love may have done to injure me, oh let my -love for you lead you to safety, honor, and renown."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, be it so," cried Charles, infected by her enthusiasm. "I swear -by all I hold most sacred, I will not go back before the enemy. Let -him cross the Loire--let Orleans fall--let every traitor leave me--let -every faint heart counsel flight. I will meet him in the field, peril -all on one last blow, free France, or die!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Let us back to the besieged city again. Gaunt famine is walking in the -streets; eager-faced men, and hollow-eyed women are seen prowling -about, and vainly seeking food. Closer, closer draw the lines about -the place, the bridge is broken down, as a last resource; but the -enemy's cannon thunder still, and the hands are feeble that point -those upon the walls. Suddenly there is a cry that help is coming, -that food is on the way; food, and an army to force an entrance. There -is a feeble flash of joy and hope; but it soon goes out. Men ask, Who -is it leads the host? who brings the promised succor? A woman--a young -girl of seventeen years of age--some say a saint--and some a fool; and -many weep with bitter disappointment.</p> - -<p class="normal">Nevertheless, on the day named, the ramparts are crowded, people go up -to the towers and to the belfries. What do they see? A fleet of boats -coming up the river, an army marching up the bank, lances and banners, -pennons and bright arms are there enough. But still the hearts of the -inhabitants, though beating with interest and expectation, hardly give -place to hope. They have seen French armies as bright and gay fly -before those hardy islanders who are now marching out of their lines -to attack the escorting force. They have seen succor as near them -intercepted on the way. But right onward toward them moves the host of -France. Quicker, quicker--at the march, at the trot, at the gallop. -Band mingles with band, spear crosses spear; the flag of France -advances still; the boats sweep on and reach the city; and shouts of -joy ring through the air--shouts, but not shouts so loud, nor warm, -nor triumphant as those which greet that young girl as she rides -through the streets of the city she has succored.</p> - -<p class="normal">But she was not content to succor; she came to deliver; and forth she -goes again to plant her banner between the walls and the besieging -lines, and there she sleeps, lulled by the roar of the artillery.</p> - -<p class="normal">Again the Maid of Arc is in the field. Again the standard of France is -in her hand, and on she bears it from success to success. The enemy's -forts are taken, the lines swept, the castle of the bridge recaptured, -Orleans delivered, and her name united with it in everlasting memory.</p> - -<p class="normal">Joy, hope, confidence returned to France, and men's hearts were opened -to each other which had long been closed.</p> - -<p class="normal">Gergeau, Beaugency, and many another small town was taken, and across -a country delivered from his enemies, the King of France marched on to -take his crown at Rheims.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER L.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Flitting like shadows in a mist, came many a great event in -the -history of France about that time, hardly known or appreciated by any -except those who were the immediate actors in them; but amid them all, -with a heavy heart, and a dejected spirit, Jean Charost remained in -exile at Briare. Why he had chosen that small town for the place of -his retreat, he himself hardly knew; for although no human action is -probably without its motive, some motives are so quick and -lightning-like, that all traces of them are instantly lost even in the -cloud from which they issue. It might be that he had been thinking -deeply of the words of Juvenel de Royans, from the second night of the -siege of Bourges till the moment when his sentence of banishment from -the court was spoken, and that he had fully made up his mind to go -thither sooner or later to converse with the Abbot Lomelini. No other -inducement, indeed, could be imagined; for Briare was then, as now, a -very dull small place, with its single street, and hardly defensible -walls, and nothing to recommend it but the smiling banks of the Loire, -and the fine old abbey at the highest point of the whole town. Dull -enough it was, in truth, to Jean Charost, without one object of -interest, one source of occupation. Filial love, too, had deprived him -of the consolation of his mother's company. The journey from De Brecy -to Briare he thought was too long, the difficulties and dangers in the -way too numerous for her to encounter them without risk to her health -or to her life, and he had persuaded her to remain, and keep the -management of his estates in her own hands. Thus, with a few servants, -he remained at the principal inn of the place, poorly lodged, and -poorly fed, but heeding little the convenience or inconvenience of the -body in the dull, heavy anguish of the heart. His spirit fretted sore -within him; but yet he did not venture to resist the sentence of the -king, unjust as it might be. It was a strange state that France was in -at that period. Nobles would actually take arms against the royal -authority at one moment, and submit to the most arbitrary decrees the -next; and not only did De Brecy remain at Briare in obedience to the -king's command, but Richmond, with all his impetuous spirit, lingered -on at Parthenay for months.</p> - -<p class="normal">For some days after his arrival at his place of exile, occupied with -other thoughts, Jean Charost forgot Lomelini entirely; and when he did -remember him, and recalled the words which De Royans had spoken, he -asked himself, "Why should I seek for information which may probably -confirm the king's claim to the disposal of her I love?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Man's mind, however, abhors uncertainty. That thirst for knowledge -which was kindled in Paradise is upon us still. We would rather know -evil than know not. On the fourth day, toward eventide, he set out and -walked up to the abbey, and paused in the gray light, looking at the -gray gates. One of the brethren, gazing forth, asked him if he would -come in and see the church, and then De Brecy inquired for the abbot, -and if he were still brother Lomelini.</p> - -<p class="normal">The monk replied in the affirmative, but said the abbot seldom -received any one after sunset, unless he came on business of -importance, or was an old friend.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am an old friend," replied Jean Charost. "Tell him Monsieur De -Brecy is here. I will wait till you return."</p> - -<p class="normal">He was speedily admitted, and Lomelini seemed really glad to see him. -He had become an old man, indeed, with hair as white as silver, had -grown somewhat bowed and corpulent, and was slightly querulous withal. -He complained of many things--of man's ingratitude--the dullness of -the place of his abode--the forgetfulness of friends--the perils of -the land, and all those things easily borne by the robust spirit of -youth, which age magnifies into intolerable burdens. Still, he seemed -gratified with Jean Charost's visit, and besought him to stay and take -a homely supper with him--poor monastic fare. But during the course of -the evening, and the meal with which it concluded, the young nobleman -found that his old acquaintance had lost none of that quiet subtlety -which had distinguished him in other days, and that his taste for good -things was in no degree diminished. It had increased, indeed. Like an -old dog, eating had become his only pleasure. He had become both a -glutton and an epicure.</p> - -<p class="normal">Before he took his departure, the young nobleman asked openly and -boldly for the papers which De Royans had mentioned. Lomelini looked -surprised and bewildered, and assured him that Monsieur de Royans had -made a mistake. "I recollect nothing about them whatever," he said, -with an air of so much sincerity, that Jean Charost, though he had -acquired a keener insight into character than in former times, did not -even doubt him.</p> - -<p class="normal">He went back from lime to time to see the old man, who always seemed -glad of his society, and, indeed, Jean Charost could not doubt that -company of any kind was a relief to one who was certainly not formed -by nature to pass his days in a monastery. He remarked, however, that -Lomelini from time to time would look at him from under his shaggy -white eyebrows with a look of cunning inquiry, as if he expected -something, or sought to discover something; but the moment their eyes -met, the abbot's were averted again, and he never uttered a word which -could give any clue to what was passing in his mind at such moments.</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus had time passed away, not altogether without relief; a few hasty -lines, sometimes from his mother, sometimes from Agnes Sorel, -sometimes from his own Agnes, gave him information of the welfare of -the latter, and cheered his spirits for a day. But often would the -momentary sunshine be clouded by dark anxieties and fears.</p> - -<p class="normal">He had not heard any thing for some weeks; and after a long ride -through the neighboring country, he was about to retire to rest, when -steps came rapidly through the long gallery of the inn, and stopped at -his chamber door. It was a young monk come to tell him that the abbot, -after supper, had been seized with sudden and perilous sickness, and -earnestly desired to see him instantly. Jean Charost hurried up with -the messenger to the abbey, and being brought into the old man's -chamber, instantly perceived that the hand of death had touched him: -the eyes spoke it, the temples spoke it, it was written in every line.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lomelini welcomed him faintly; and as Jean Charost bent kindly over -him, he said, almost in a whisper, "Bid all the others leave the -room--I have something to say to you."</p> - -<p class="normal">As soon as they were alone together, the old man said, "Put your hand -beneath my pillow. You will find something there."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost obeyed, and drew forth a packet, yellow and soiled. His -own name was written on it in a hand which he recognized at once.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Something more--something more," said Lomelini; and searching again, -he found another packet, also addressed to himself; but the seals of -this had been broken, though those on the other cover had been left -undisturbed. Without ceremony he unfolded the paper, and found within -a case of sandal wood inlaid with gold, and bearing the letters -M. S. F. twisted into a curious monograph. It opened with two small -clasps, and within were two rows of large and brilliant diamonds.</p> - -<p class="normal">De Brecy's examination had been quick and eager, and while he made it, -the dying man's eyes had been fixed upon his countenance. As he closed -the case, Lomelini raised his voice, saying, "Listen, Seigneur De -Brecy."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost put up the packets, and sat down by the old man's side. -He could not find it in his heart at that moment to speak harshly, -although he now easily divined why the packets had been kept from him, -so long.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is it, father?" he said, bending his head.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What, not an angry word?" asked Lomelini.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not one," replied Jean Charost. "I have too many sorrows of my own, -father, to add to yours just now."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, I will tell you all," said Lomelini. "You think I kept -these packets on account of the diamonds. That had something to do -with it; but there was more. After you entered the Orleans palace you -were trusted more than me. I had been the keeper of all secrets; you -became so. The duke's daughter was put under your charge, -notwithstanding your youth; and I resolved you should never be able to -prove her his daughter."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I knew not that she was so," replied Jean Charost. "The duke himself -knew it not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay, do not lie," said Lomelini, somewhat bitterly. "I watched -you--I watched you both well--I followed you to the convent of the -Celestins, where the murderer had taken sanctuary; and I know the -child was made over to you then, though you pretended to find it in -the forest."</p> - -<p class="normal">"On my Christian faith, and honor as a knight," replied De Brecy, "I -heard nothing either of murderer or child at the convent of the -Celestins. The dear babe <i>was</i>; given to me in the forest by a tall, -strange, wild-looking man, who seemed to me half crazed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"St. Florent himself," murmured Lomelini.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I call Heaven to witness," continued Jean Charost, "I never even -suspected any connection between the duke and that child till long -after--I am not sure of it even yet."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Be sure, then," said Lomelini, faintly. "The duke took her mother -from that mother's husband--carried her off by force one night as she -returned from a great fête, with those very diamonds on her neck."</p> - -<p class="normal">"By force!" murmured De Brecy; and then from a feeling difficult to -define, he added, "thank God for that!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"For what?" said Lomelini. "Doubtless she went willingly enough. Women -will scream and declare they are made miserable for life, and all -that. At all events, she stayed when she was there, and that was her -daughter; for I knew the child again as soon as I saw it at the -cottage, by a mark upon her temple; and the old father died of grief, -and the mad husband stole in one night and stabbed his wife, and -carried away the child; and that is all."</p> - -<p class="normal">He seemed to ramble, and a slight convulsion passed over his face. "I -know the whole," he added, "for I had a share in the whole," and a -deep groan followed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let me call in a priest," said De Brecy. "You have need of the -consolations of the Church."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, ay; call in a priest," answered Lomelini, partly raising himself -on his arm. "I would not have my corpse kicked about the streets like -the carcass of a dog; but do not suppose I believe in any priestly -tales, young man. When life goes out, all is ended. I have enjoyed -this life. I want no other; I expect no other--I--I fear no -other--surely there is no other. Well, call in a priest--haste, or you -will be too late--is this faintness--is this death?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost sprang to the door, near which he found several of the -monks. The penitentiary was called for in haste. But he was, as -Lomelini had said, too late. They found the abbot passed away, the -chin had dropped, the wide open eyes seemed to gaze at nothing, and -yet to have nothing within them. Something had departed which man -vainly tries to define by words, or to convey by figures. A spirit had -gone to learn the emptiness of the dreams of earth.</p> - -<p class="normal">With a slow step, and deep gloom upon his mind, Jean Charost turned -back to his dwelling. As he went, his thoughts were much occupied -with the dark, sad, material doctrines--philosophy I can not call -them--creed I can not call them--which at that time were but too -common among Italian ecclesiastics. When he was once more in his own -chamber, however, he took forth the packets he had received from -Lomelini, and opened the cover of the one which had the seals -unbroken. It contained a letter from the Duke of Orleans, brief and -sad, speaking of the child which De Brecy had adopted, of her mother, -and of the jewels contained in the other packet. The duke acknowledged -her as his child, saying, "I recognized her at once by the ring which -you showed me, as the daughter of her whom I wronged and have lost. It -was taken at the same time that my poor Marie's life was taken; for, -as you doubtless know, she was murdered under my very roof--yes, I say -murdered. Had the dagger found my heart instead of hers, another word, -perhaps, would have been better fitted; for mine was a wrong which -merited death. I wronged her; I wronged her murderer."</p> - -<p class="normal">He then went on to urge Jean Charost to perform well the task which he -had undertaken, and which he had certainly well performed without -exhortation; and the duke ended by saying, "I have seen you so far -tried, Monsieur De Brecy, that I can trust you entirely. I know that -you will be faithful to the task; and, as far as I have power to give -authority over my child, I hereby give it to you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Those were joyful words to Jean Charost, and for a moment he gave way -to wild and daring hopes. He thought he would claim that right, even -against the king himself; but short consideration, and what he knew of -the law of France, soon dimmed all expectation of success.</p> - -<p class="normal">The other papers which the packet contained were merely letters in a -woman's hand, signed Marie de St. Florent; but they were pleasant to -Jean Charost's eyes, for they showed how the unhappy girl had -struggled against her evil fate. In more than one of them, she -besought the duke to let her go--to place her in a convent, where, -unknown to all the world, she might pass the rest of life in penitence -and prayer. They spoke a spirit bowed down, but a heart uncorrupted.</p> - -<p class="normal">Several hours passed; not so much in the examination of these papers, -as in the indulgence of thoughts which they suggested; and it was -midway between midnight and morning when Jean Charost at length lay -down upon his bed.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER LI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">De Brecy woke with a start just in the gray of the dawn. His -thoughts -were confused. He had had troublous dreams. He had fancied himself in -the midst of war and strife again, and the well-known sounds, -"<i>Alerte! alerte! Aux armes! aux armes!</i>" seemed to ring in his ears.</p> - -<p class="normal">In an instant he had thrown on the furred gown which lay beside him, -and had seized his sword; but the only sound he now heard was a sharp -tap at the door, and a voice saying, "Monsieur De Brecy! Monsieur De -Brecy! Pray let me in. I wish to speak to you in haste."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost opened the door, and, to his surprise, beheld the face of -his good servant, Martin Grille, who had been especially left at the -court with Agnes, to attend upon and watch over her. A vague feeling -of alarm instantly took possession of De Brecy's heart, and he -exclaimed, ere the man could tell his errand, "How is your lady? Is -she ill?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, sir; not ill," replied Martin Grille; "though ill at ease, I have -a notion. But I have hastened here with such speed that I believe I -have left my horse no lungs, nor myself either, any more than a -cracked pair of bellows, to warn you, my lord, of a danger that -menaces you. So I beseech you, before you hear it, to order all your -people to get upon horseback, and make ready to set out yourself, for -there is no great time to lose."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, I must hear the danger first," replied Jean Charost "What is the -matter, my good friend?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, tell the people to get ready, at all events," said Martin, -earnestly; "then you can do as you like. Stories are sometimes long in -telling, questions long in asking, and longer in being answered. It is -better always, my lord, to be ready to act upon the news when it -comes, than to have to wait to make ready after you have got it."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was some truth in what he said; and Jean Charost sent by him the -orders he desired, nor was he long in giving them.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now tell me all, while I am dressing," said his master, as soon as he -had returned. "I know no cause for fearing any thing; but it is an -uncertain world, good Martin, and there are unseen dangers around our -every step."</p> - -<p class="normal">"This one is plain enough," answered Martin Grille. "Nôtre Dame is not -plainer. It is simply, sir, that the king has sent a certain sergeant -of his, with a long troop of archers at his back, to arrest and bring -you to his presence. He is now at Bourges, in the house of good -Messire Jacques Cœur, which he fills tolerably well; and the -distance not being very great from Bourges to Briare, you may expect -our friend the sergeant every hour. It was late at night, however, -when the order was given, and master sergeant vowed that he would have -a nap first, king or no king. But, vowing I would have no nap, I came -away at once; and so you have three good hours, and perhaps a few -minutes more."</p> - -<p class="normal">De Brecy mused, and then asked, "Do you know any motive for this -order?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"None at all," replied Martin Grille; "nor can I even guess. But I'll -tell you all that happened, as I have it from one who saw all. There -is one Jeanne de Vendôme about the court; they call her also Marquise -De Mortaigne--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have seen her," said Jean Charost. "What of her? Go on."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, she has a nephew, sir, one Peter of Vendôme," replied Martin -Grille, "whom she is very fond of; but he is an enemy of yours."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I never even saw him," replied De Brecy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, sir, the king's mind is poisoned against you," said Martin -Grille, "that is clear enough; and I know not what else to attribute -it to. But, upon my word, you had better mount your horse and ride -away. I can tell you the rest of the story as we go. I never was a -very good horseman, and, if the sergeant rides better than I, he may -be here before we are in the saddle."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, be it so," said Jean Charost, thoughtfully. "Gather all those -things together, while I go and reckon with my host. I would rather -not be taken a prisoner into Bourges, and I think I will prevent it."</p> - -<p class="normal">He spoke with a slight smile, and yet some bitterness of tone; but -Martin Grille applied himself at once to pack up all that was in his -master's room, and in about half an hour Jean Charost and his -followers were in the saddle.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Were it not better to take the road to Bussiere, my lord?" said -Martin Grille, who rode somewhat near his master's person. "It seems -to me as if you were going toward Oussin."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No; methinks we shall be safer on this side," said Jean Charost. -"Now, as we ride along, let me hear all that has been passing at the -court. Perhaps I may be able to pick out some cause for this sudden -displeasure of the king."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, sir, I am sorry to be obliged to say what I must say," answered -Martin Grille; "but the king has treated you very ill. This Peter of -Vendôme, whom I was talking about--the devil plague him!--is at the -bottom of it all; though his aunt, who is a worse devil than himself, -manages the matter for him. She has taken it into her head that she -must ally herself to the royal family. Now, it runs every where at the -court that Mademoiselle Agnes is the daughter of the poor Duke of -Orleans, who was killed near the Porte Barbette; that she was -intrusted by him to your care; and that, for ambition, you want to -marry her, and then tell all the world who she is."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost had been gazing in his face for the last moment or two in -silence; but now he inclined his head slowly, saying, "Go on. I now -see how it is."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, sir, about a month ago this Jeanne de Vendôme proposed to the -king that her nephew should marry our young lady, and the king, it -would seem, was willing enough; but a certain beautiful lady you know -of opposed it, and, as she can do nearly what she likes, for some time -the day went with her. Then Jeanne of Vendôme went and curried favor -with Monsieur La Trimouille, who can do nearly what he likes on the -other side, and then the day went against us for some time. The king -was very violent, and swore that if he had any power or authority over -Mademoiselle Agnes, she should marry Peter of Vendôme, though she told -him all the while she would not, and begged him, humbly and devoutly, -rather to let her go into a nunnery. Kings will have their way, -however, sir, and things were looking very bad, when suddenly, three -days ago, our young lady disappeared--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where did she go to? Where is she?" asked Jean Charost, sharply.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That I can not tell, sir," answered Martin Grille; "but she is safe -enough, I am sure; for when I told Mademoiselle De St. Geran about it, -she said, with one of her enchanting smiles, 'Has she, indeed, my good -man? Well, I dare say God will protect her.' But the king did not take -it so quietly. He was quite furious; and neither Peter of Vendôme nor -his aunt would let his passion cool."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Doubtless attributed it all to me," said Jean Charost, whose face had -greatly lighted up within the last few minutes. But Martin Grille -replied, to his surprise, "I do not think they did, sir. The painted -old woman hinted, though she did not venture to say so, that the -beautiful young lady you wot of had helped her namesake's escape; and -the nephew said that if the king would but sign the papers, he would -soon find the fugitive, for he had a shrewd notion of where she was."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He did not sign them!" exclaimed Jean Charost, with a look of dread.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He had well-nigh done it, my lord," replied Martin Grille. "Last -night, when the king was sitting with the queen in the large black -room on the second floor, which you remember well--very melancholy he -was, for somewhat of a coolness had sprung up between him and her whom -he loves best, and he can not live without her--they brought him in -the papers to sign, that is to say, Peter of Vendôme and his aunt, -looking all radiant and triumphant. Some one watched them, however; -for, just at that minute, in came the chancellor and two or three -others, and among them one of the pages, with a paper in his hand -addressed to the king. The king took it, just looked at the top, and -then handing it up to the chancellor, was about to sign what Peter of -Vendôme demanded, and let him go; but Monsieur Des Ursins--that is the -chancellor--cried, 'Hold, your majesty. This is important; in good and -proper form; and must have your royal attention.' Then he read it out; -but I can not tell you all that it contained. However, it was a -prohibition, in good set form, for any one to dispose of the hand, -person, or property of our young lady, Mademoiselle Agnes, either in -marriage, wardship, or otherwise, and setting forth that the writer -was her true and duly-constituted guardian, according to the laws of -France. It was signed 'St. Florent;' and, though the king was mighty -angry, the chancellor persuaded him not to sign the papers till the -right of the appellant, as he called it, was decided by some competent -tribunal."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And how came you to know all this so accurately?" asked Jean Charost, -after meditating for several minutes over what he had heard.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Part one way, part another, my noble lord," replied Martin Grille. -"Principally, however, I learned the facts from a young cousin of -mine, who is now chief violin player to the queen. When she found her -husband so dull that night, she sent for Petit Jean to solace him, -because she could not very well have sent for the person who would -have solaced him best. He heard all, and marked all, and told me all; -for you are a great favorite of his. However, I had something to do -with it afterward myself; for the king, knowing that I was in the -house, sent for me, and made me tell him whether, when you were last -in Berri, you signed your name St. Florent. I was frightened out of my -wits, and said I believed you did. The next minute the king said, -looking sharply at the sergeant, who was standing near, 'Bring him at -once from Briare. Lose no time.' Then he turned to me, with a face -quite savage, and said, 'You may go.' I thought he was going to add, -'to the devil;' but he did not, and I slunk out of the room. The -sergeant went out at the same time; but he laughed, and said, 'Sleep -wasted no time, and he was not going to set off for Briare at -midnight, not he.' So I did, instead of him; for as I feared I had -done some mischief, I thought I might as well do some good."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost smiled with a less embarrassed look than he had worn -during the ride; but he made no reply, and during the next half hour -he seemed to hear nothing that Martin Grille said, although it must -not be affirmed that Martin Grille said nothing. It were hardly fair -to look into his thoughts, to inquire whether the injustice he had met -with, the wrong which was meditated against him, and the ingratitude -for services performed and suffering endured in the royal cause had -shaken his love toward the king. Suffice it, they had not shaken his -loyalty toward his country, and that although he might contemplate -flying with his Agnes beyond the reach of an arm that oppressed him, -he never dreamed of drawing his sword against his native land, or of -doing aught to undermine the throne of a prince to whom he had sworn -allegiance.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, however, Martin Grille pulled him by the sleeve, saying, "I -can not help thinking, my good lord, that you are taking a wrong -course. You are going on right toward Bourges, and at any point of the -road you may meet with the sergeant and his men. Indeed, I saw just -now a party of horsemen on the hill there. They have come down into -the valley; but that is the high road to Bourges they were upon."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My good friend, I am going to Bourges," replied Jean Charost; "but as -I do not intend to go as a prisoner, if I can help it, we will turn -aside a little here, and go round Les Barres, that hamlet you see -there. We can then follow the by-roads for eight or ten miles further, -and cross the river at Cosne. I know this country well; for, during -the last twelvemonth, I have had nothing to do but to think, and to -explore it."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER LII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">It gives one a curious sensation to stand on the spot where -great -deeds have been enacted: to tread the halls where true tragedies have -been performed: to fancy one sees the bloody stains upon the floor: to -fill the air with the grim faces of the actors: to imagine one's self -surrounded with the fierce passions of other days, like midnight -ghosts emitted from the grave. I have stood in the small chamber where -the most brutal murder that ever stained the name of a great nation -was devised and ordered by the counselors of John of Bedford. I have -stood where an act of justice took the form of assassination against -Henry of Guise. I have beheld the prison of the guilty and the unhappy -Mary, and the lingering death-chamber of the innocent and luckless -Arabella Stuart. But, although these sights were full of deep -interest, and even awe, the effect was not so strange as that produced -by passing through ancient places of more domestic interest, where -courts and kings, the brave, the fair, the good, the wise, or their -opposite, had lived and loved, enjoyed and suffered, reveled and wept, -in times long, long gone by. Often, when I have read some glowing -description of mask or pageant, or scene of courtly splendor, and have -visited the place where it occurred, I have asked myself, with wonder, -"Could it have been here, in this mean and poor-looking place?" and -have been led from an actual comparison of the scene with that -described in the past, to conclude that in those earlier days men were -satisfied with much less, and that the splendor of those times would -be no splendor to ourselves.</p> - -<p class="normal">The great hall of Jacques Cœur, the wealthiest merchant in France, -now holding high office at the court, and, in fact, the royal -treasurer--a hall celebrated throughout all Berri--was indeed a large -and well-shaped apartment, but still very simple in all its -decorations. It was, perhaps, more than forty feet in length, and four -or five and twenty feet in width: was vaulted above with a -semicircular arch, ceiled with long planks, finely jointed together, -of some dark, unpolished wood. The same material lined the whole hall; -but on the walls the wood was polished and paneled, and four -pilasters, in the Italian fashion, ornamented each corner of the wall, -and seemed, but only seemed, to support the roof.</p> - -<p class="normal">Many candles were required to give light to that large dark room; but -it was very insufficiently illuminated. What little light there was -fell principally upon the figure of the young king, as, seated at a -small table in the midst, he leaned his head upon his hand in a -somewhat melancholy attitude, and bent his eyes down toward the floor.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Will she come?" he said to himself; "will she come? And if she will -not, how must I act? This good merchant says she will? but I doubt -it--I doubt it much. Hers is a determined spirit; and once she has -chosen her part, she abides by it obstinately. Well, it is no use -asking myself if she will come, or thinking what I must do if she -refuse. Kings were made to command men, I suppose, and women to -command them;" and a faint smile came upon his lips at the conceit.</p> - -<p class="normal">While it still hung there, a door opened hard by--not the great door -of the hall, but a smaller one on the right--and a sweet voice said, -"Your majesty sent for me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Agnes!" said the king, rising and taking her hand, "Agnes! why have -you left me so long?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Because I have been ill and miserable," she answered; and the tears -rose in her beautiful eyes.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And I have been ill and miserable too," said Charles, leading her to -a seat close by his own. "Do you not know," he continued, in an -earnest and sad voice, "that, from time to time, a moody, evil spirit -seems to take possession of me, making me sicken at all the toil and -pomp of state, at all the splendor, and even all the gayety of a -court? His visits are becoming more frequent and more long. There is -no one can drive him from me but you, Agnes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Can I drive him from you always?" she asked. "Has he not resisted me -lately, very lately, till I lost hope, lost courage, and was repelled, -to take counsel with my own heart, and listen to all its bitter -self-reproach. Charles, Charles! oh, my king and lord! there is -nothing can console--nothing can comfort--under the weight of my own -thoughts, but to believe and know that you are worthy of better love -than mine--the love of your whole people. Take not that comfort from -me. Let me, let me believe that passion, nor moodiness, nor any evil -spirit will lead you to do an act of injustice to any of your -subjects."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well," said Charles, kissing her hand, "it shall be as you -will, my Agnes. You shall decide De Brecy's fate yourself, of however -rebellious a spirit he may be--however insolent his tone. I will -forgive him for your sake. It shall be as you will."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, not so," answered Agnes, gently, "I ask you not to forgive -insolence or rebellion. All I beseech you is, to inquire unprejudiced, -and judge without favor. De Brecy is somewhat bold, and free of -speech. He always was so, even from his boyhood; but he is faithful -and true in all things. I saw him peril his life rather than give up a -letter to the Duke of Burgundy. I saw him submit to the torture rather -than betray to the Council the secrets of your uncle, the Duke of -Orleans. It is his nature to speak fearlessly, but it is his nature to -speak truly; and all I ask of you is to judge of him as he is, -untinged by the yellow counsels of Trimouille, or the black falsehoods -of that woman of Vendôme. I hear that some paper he has sent you has -excited your anger, and that you have ordered his arrest. Before -you judge, investigate, my dear lord. Remember that he has many -enemies--that he has offended Trimouille, who never forgives; and that -the love of my bright little namesake for him is an obstacle in the -way of Jeanne of Vendôme, than whom a more poisonous viper does not -crawl upon the earth."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will investigate," answered Charles. "I will judge unprejudiced; -and my better angel shall be by my side to see whether I keep my word -with her."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not alone, not alone," said Agnes, "or they will say, in their -malice, that favor for me, not sense of justice, has swayed the king. -Have your chancellor here. He is a noble man, and true of heart. Nay, -let all who will be present, to see you act, as I know you will act, -justly and nobly--sternly, if you will; for I would not even have love -pleading for love affect you in this matter. Oh, think only, my noble -Charles, of how you may have been deceived against this young -gentleman, how Trimouille's enmity may have read an evil gloss upon -his actions, how Jeanne of Vendôme and her false nephew may have -distorted the truth. Take the whole course of his life to witness in -his favor; and then, if you assoil him of any fault--then Agnes, -perhaps, may plead for favor to him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"She shall not plead in vain," said Charles embracing her. "Some time -to-morrow probably, the sergeant will be back, and I will hear and -judge his cause at once, for we are lingering in Bourges too long. -There is, moreover," he continued, holding her hand in his, and gazing -into her eyes with a smile, "there is another cause for speedy -decision. The king's authority, till this is all concluded, suffers -some contempt. A daring act has been committed against our state and -dignity, and hints have reached us that the traitor is above our -power. 'Tis policy, in such a case, not to investigate too closely, -but to remove all cause of contest as soon as possible."</p> - -<p class="normal">Agnes sank upon her knees, with a glowing cheek, and bent down her -fair forehead on his hand, murmuring, "Forgive me--oh, forgive me!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Charles threw his arm round her fondly, saying, "Thank thee, my -Agnes--thank thee for letting me have something to forgive."</p> - -<p class="normal">She was still at his feet, when some one knocked at the door, and, -raising her gently, Charles said aloud, "Come in."</p> - -<p class="normal">"May it please your majesty," said a page, entering, "Monsieur De -Brecy waits below to know your pleasure concerning him."</p> - -<p class="normal">A slight flush passed over the king's cheek. "This is quick, indeed," -said Charles. "Why does not the sergeant whom I sent present himself?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is no sergeant there, your majesty. Monsieur De Brecy, with a -few attendants, came but a moment ago, and is in the vestibule below -with Messire Jacques Cœur."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let him wait," said Charles; "and, in the mean time, summon Monsieur -Des Ursins hither. Wait; I will give you a list of names."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now, Agnes," continued the king, when he had dispatched the boy, "I -will act as you would have me. We must have other ladies here. Go call -some, love--some who will best support you."</p> - -<p class="normal">About an hour after, in that same hall, Charles was seated at the -table in the midst, with his bonnet on his head, and some papers -before him. The queen was placed near, and some fifteen or sixteen -ladies and gentlemen, members of the court, stood in a semicircle -round. The door opened, and, ushered in by one of the attendants, Jean -Charost, followed close by Jacques Cœur, advanced up the hall with -a bold, free step. When within two paces of the table, he paused, and -bowed his head to the king, but without speaking.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Monsieur De Brecy," said Charles, "I sent one of the sergeants of our -court to bring you hither."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So I have heard, sire," replied De Brecy; "but, learning beforehand -that your majesty required my presence, I set out at once to place -myself at your disposal."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have done well," said the king; "and we would fain believe that -there is no contempt of our authority, nor disloyalty toward our -person, at the bottom of your heart."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have proved my loyalty and my reverence, sire," replied De Brecy, -"by shedding my blood for you in the field against your enemies, at -all times, and on all occasions, and by lingering in inactivity for -long months at Briare in obedience to your commands."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well," said the king, "it is well. But there be special -circumstances, when men's own interests or passions will lead them to -forget the general line of duty, and cancel good services by great -faults. Charges of this kind are made against you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord, they are false," replied De Brecy; "and I will prove them -so, either in your royal court, by evidence good and true, or in the -lists against my accuser, my body against his, and God to judge -between us."</p> - -<p class="normal">He glanced, as he spoke, toward a slight young man standing beside La -Trimouille; and the king, mistaking his look, replied, with a light -laugh, "Our ministers are not challenged to the field for their -actions, Monsieur De Brecy. La Trimouille is a flight above you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thought not of Monsieur La Trimouille, sire," replied De Brecy. "I -know not that I have offended him; and, moreover, I hold him to be the -best minister your majesty ever had, because the one who has made your -authority the most respected. I spoke generally of any accuser."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then," said the king, "in the first place, tell me, with that -truth and freedom of speech for which you have a somewhat rough -reputation, have you, or have you not just cause to think that a young -lady who has been brought up under your charge from infancy, and -lately at our court, is the daughter of our late uncle, the Duke of -Orleans?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have, sire," answered De Brecy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then how did you presume to claim the guardianship of her against our -power?" said the king, sternly. "As our first cousin, legitimate or -illegitimate, she is our ward."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My answer is simple, sire," replied De Brecy. "I have never done what -your majesty says; and if I had, when last I stood before you, I -should have done it in ignorance; for it is but three days since I -received from one Lomelini, abbot of Briare, then upon his death-bed, -any certain information regarding her birth. These packets should have -been delivered to me long before, but they were retained through -malice. I now lay them before you, to judge of them as may seem meet."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Look at them, Des Ursins," said the king; and the chancellor took -them up.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can prove, my lord the king," said Juvenel de Royans, stepping -forward, "that when last in Berri, Monsieur De Brecy was quite -uncertain whose child the young lady was; for we had a long -conversation on the subject when he gallantly threw himself into the -citadel of this place, to aid us in defending it for your majesty."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Silence! silence!" said the king; and taking up a paper, he held it -out toward De Brecy, saying, "Did you sign that paper, sir?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, sire," replied De Brecy; "I never saw it before."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then whose is it?" cried the king.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mine," replied the voice of an old man, in somewhat antiquated -garments, standing a step or two behind Agnes Sorel. "I signed that -paper, of right;" and advancing with a feeble step, he placed himself -opposite the king.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And who may you be, reverend sir?" demanded Charles, gazing at him -with much surprise.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The man whose name is there written," replied the stranger. "William, -count of St. Florent; the only lawful guardian of the girl you wrangle -for. You took my property and gave it to another. I heeded not, -because I have no such needs now. But when you sought to take away the -guardianship of this poor girl from him to whom I intrusted her, and -to bestow her hand upon a knave, I came forward to declare and to -maintain my rights. They have been dormant long; but they are not -extinct. Each year have I seen her since she was an infant; each year -have I performed some act of lordship in the fief of St. Florent; and -I claim my right in the King's Court--my right to my estates--my right -in my--" He paused for an instant, and seemed to hesitate; but then -added, quickly, and in a tremulous voice, "in my child."</p> - -<p class="normal">The king looked confounded, and turned toward the chancellor, who was -at that moment speaking eagerly to Agnes Sorel, with the fell eyes of -Jeanne of Vendôme fixed meaningly upon them both.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Monsieur Des Ursins," said the king, "you hear what he says."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do, sire," answered the chancellor, coming forward. "You have made -your appeal, sir," he continued, addressing the old man, "and perhaps, -if you can prove your statements, his majesty may graciously admit -your rights without the trouble of carrying your claim before the -courts. You have to show, first, that you are really the Count of St. -Florent; secondly, that the young lady in question is legally to be -looked upon as the daughter of that nobleman. Her birth, at present, -is not at all established. None of these letters but one prove any -thing, and that proves only a vague belief on the part of a prince -long since dead."</p> - -<p class="normal">The old man drew himself sternly up to his full height, which was very -great, and said, "You ask me for bitter proofs, chancellor. Methinks -you might know me yourself, for I first gave you a sword."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can be no witness in my own court," said the chancellor; "and the -cause, if it be tried, must come before me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stand forward, then, Jacques Cœur," cried the other. "Do you know -your old friend?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Right well," answered Jacques Cœur, advancing from behind De -Brecy. "This, please your majesty, is William, count of St. Florent. I -have seen him at intervals of not more than two or three years ever -since he disappeared from the court and army of France, and have -received for him, and paid to him, the very small sum he has drawn -from the revenues of St. Florent. If my testimony is not enough, I can -bring forward twenty persons to prove his identity."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a dead silence for several moments; but then the chancellor -said, addressing the king, "This may be, perhaps, admitted, sire. I -have no doubt of the count's identity. But there is nothing to show -any connection whatever between him and this young lady, whom the Duke -of Orleans, in this letter, seems to have claimed as his daughter."</p> - -<p class="normal">At these words, a fierce, eager fire seemed lighted up in the old -man's eyes, and taking a step forward, he exclaimed, "Ay, such claim -as a robber has to the gold of him whom he has murdered!" Then, -suddenly stopping, he clasped his hands together, let his eyes fall -thoughtfully, and murmured, "Forgive me, Heaven! Sire, I have forgot -myself," he said, in a milder tone. "My right to the child is easy to -prove. I was her mother's husband. She was born in marriage. I myself -gave her into the arms of this young man," and he laid his hand upon -De Brecy's shoulder. "With him she has ever been till the time you -took her from him. Let him speak for himself. Did he not receive her -from me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Most assuredly I did," replied De Brecy; "and never even dreamed for -a moment, at the time, that any one had a claim to her but yourself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nor had they--nor have they," replied St Florent, sternly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But it is strange, good sir," said Charles, "that you should trust -your child to the guardianship of another; that other a mere youth, -and, from what I have heard, well-nigh a stranger to you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There are wrongs, King of France, which will drive men mad," said St. -Florent, fixing his eyes full upon the king's face. "Mine were such -wrongs, and I was so driven mad. But yet in this act, which you call -strange, I was more sane than in aught else. This young man's father I -knew and loved, before he ruined himself for his king, and died for -his country. Of the youth himself I had heard high and noble report -from this good merchant here. I had seen him once, too, in the convent -of the Celestins, and what I saw was good. I knew that I could trust -her to none better, and I trusted her to him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But can you prove that she is your wife's daughter?" asked La -Trimouille; "for these papers in the hands of the chancellor seem to -show, and Monsieur De Brecy himself admits there is cause to believe, -that she is the child of the late Duke of Orleans, and consequently a -ward of the king."</p> - -<p class="normal">He spoke in a mild, sweet tone; but his words seemed almost to drive -St. Florent to madness. His whole face worked, his eyes flashed, and -the veins in his temple swelled. "Man, would you tear my heart out?" -he exclaimed, in a fearful tone. "Would you drag forth the dead from -the grave to desecrate their memory?" and snatching up the other -packet which De Brecy had laid upon the table, he tore off the cover, -exclaiming, "Ha! these are trinkets. Poor, lost, unhappy girl!" and, -laying his finger upon the cover, he looked sternly at La Trimouille, -saying, "Whose are these arms? Mine! Whose are these initials? -Hers--Marie de St. Florent!"</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, he opened the case and gazed upon the diamonds. "Oh, -Marie, Marie," he said, "when I clasped these round thy neck, little -did I think--But no more of that. My lord the king, what does your -majesty say to my just claim? I gave my daughter's guardianship to -this young man: I now give him her hand. I ratify your gift of the -lands and lordships of St. Florent. What says your majesty?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"In sooth, I know not what to say or think," answered Charles.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think I see my way, sire," said the chancellor; "although the case -is somewhat complicated. If Monsieur De St. Florent can prove that -this young lady is the daughter of his wife, he is undoubtedly, by the -law of France, her lawful guardian, and all opposition to his claim -grounded on other facts is vain. So much for that view of the case. -But even supposing he can not prove the fact, here is a letter from -his highness the Duke of Orleans, whose handwriting I well know, -which, though somewhat informal, contains matter which clearly conveys -the whole of his authority over the young lady, if he had any, to -Monsieur De Brecy. In either case, then, your majesty can not err, nor -violate any of your own edicts, or those of your predecessors, by -restoring the guardianship to him from whom it has been taken under a -misapprehension. Any other course, I think, would be dangerous, and -form a very evil precedent."</p> - -<p class="normal">Trimouille bit his lip, and Jeanne de Vendôme slowly nodded her head, -with a bitter smile, toward Agnes Sorel.</p> - -<p class="normal">"So be it, then," said the king, with a gracious look toward Jean -Charost. "Take her back, De Brecy, if you can find her, which we doubt -not; and if you bestow her hand on any one else but yourself, he shall -have our favor for your sake. If you wed her yourself, we will dance -at the wedding, seeing that you have submitted with patience and -obedience to a sentence which we sternly pronounced, and sternly -executed against you, in order to teach all our court and subjects -that not even those whom we most highly esteem, and who have served us -best, will be permitted to oppose our expressed will, or show -disobedience to our commands. Your sentence of exile from our court is -recalled, and we shall expect, not only your attendance, but your -service also; for, wedded or unwedded, we can spare no good sword from -the cause of France."</p> - -<p class="normal">He spoke gayly and gracefully, and then looking round with a smile, he -said, "Is there no wise and pitiful person who, in charity, can give -us some information of where our fair fugitive is?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"In my castle of St. Florent," said the old count, who had now sunk -down again into the appearance of age and decrepitude; "and there De -Brecy will find her to-morrow. Let him take her, and let him take her -inheritance also; for I go back to my own living tomb, to work out the -penance of deeds done in madness and despair."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Methinks, sire," said Jean Charost, who had marked some facts which -created suspicion, "it were well that I should go to-night. St. -Florent is very insufficiently guarded, and these are strange times."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay, this is lovers' haste," said Charles. "But, as you say, -there may be danger of rash enterprises on the part of rivals, now -that her abode is known. We will therefore, to spare all scandal, -entreat some fair lady to undertake the task of bringing her back to -the court this very night, which is not yet far advanced. Who will -undertake it? She shall have good escort, commanded by this gallant -knight himself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am ready, sire," said Jeanne de Vendôme.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then, I beseech your majesty, let me go also," exclaimed Agnes Sorel, -eagerly.</p> - -<p class="normal">Charles looked from the one to the other, and replied, somewhat -jestingly, "Both go. A litter shall be prepared at once; and as a -moderator between you--ladies not always well agreeing when too -closely confined--I will ask our good friend Messire Jacques Cœur -to accompany you. Quick, ladies! prepare. De Brecy, see for your -horses; and on your return you shall sup with us, and we will forget -all but what is pleasant in the dream that is past."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER LIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">A little after ten o'clock at night, a party of some -five-and-twenty -persons, escorting one of the large horse-litters of the day, stopped -in the court-yard of the old Castle of St. Florent. One or two -servants came forth to meet them, and instantly recognized De Brecy's -right to admission. Lights were procured; and the young nobleman -himself, handing Agnes Sorel from the litter, led her into the great -hall, while Jacques Cœur followed with Jeanne de Vendôme.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My indignation at that woman's duplicity," whispered Agnes Sorel, as -they advanced, "has made me very thirsty. Let them bring me some -water, my friend."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jean Charost gave the order she desired to the servant who went before -them with the lights, and the whole party of four paused for an -instant in the hall, Agnes Sorel bending her eyes upon the ground, as -if lost in thought. Suddenly, however, she raised her head, saying, -"Come, De Brecy, I will not keep you from your love. I will lead you -to her. I know where she is to be found."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha!" said Jeanne de Vendôme, with a very marked emphasis, as Jean -Charost and his fair companion left the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Will you not go with them, madam?" asked Jacques Cœur, who had no -great love for the lady left behind.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think not," replied Jeanne de Vendôme, in a quiet, easy tone. -"Lovers' meetings should have as few witnesses as possible;" and she -and Jacques Cœur remained in the hall, the good merchant going to -the window, and gazing out upon the night.</p> - -<p class="normal">A minute or two after, the servant returned with a flagon of water -from the castle well, and a silver drinking-cup. These he set upon the -table, and retired. Jeanne de Vendôme gazed at them for a moment, and -then said, aloud, "I am thirsty too."</p> - -<p class="normal">Quietly approaching the table, she placed herself in such a position -as to stand between the flagon and Jacques Cœur, poured herself out -some water, drank, set down the cup again, and after remaining a short -time in that position, turned to the window, and took her place beside -the merchant.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the mean time, Jean Charost, with a light in his hand, accompanied -Agnes Sorel up the stairs, and through a long passage at the top.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You seem to know the castle even better than I do," he said, as she -guided him on.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have been this road in secret once before," she answered, gayly. -"Mine is a happier errand now, De Brecy. But we must thread out the -labyrinth. I have hid your little gem where best it might lie -concealed."</p> - -<p class="normal">A few moments more, however, brought them to a door which Agnes Sorel -opened, and there, with an elderly waiting-maid of Madame De Brecy's, -stood his own Agnes, gazing with anxious terror toward the door. She -was somewhat pale, somewhat thinner than she had been, and the noise -of horses' feet in the court below had made her heart beat fearfully. -The moment she saw De Brecy, however, she sprang forward and cast -herself into his arms. He pressed her closely to his heart; but all he -could say was, "My Agnes--my own Agnes--all is well, and you are -mine."</p> - -<p class="normal">Agnes Sorel put a fair hand upon the arm of each. "May you love ever -as you love now," she said, "and may God bless you in your love. Oh, -De Brecy, just a year ago you gave me the most painful moment I have -ever felt. When I told you I would guard and protect her, there came -such a look--oh, such a look into your face--a look of doubt and fear, -more reproachful, more monitory, more condemnatory than any thing but -my own heart has ever spoken. I give her back to you now, pure, and -bright, and true as you left her with me, with the bloom and -brightness of her mind as fresh and unsoiled as ever. Love her, and be -beloved, and may God bless you ever."</p> - -<p class="normal">De Brecy took her hand and kissed it. "For how much have I to thank -you," he answered; "for all--for every thing; for I am certain that -but for your influence this happy meeting would have never been."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It might not," answered Agnes, with a cheek glowing with many -emotions. "But I call Heaven to witness, De Brecy, the influence I -unrightly possess has never been, and never shall be exercised but to -do justice, to prompt aright, and to lead to honor. Now let us go. -Agnes, you must back with us to the court as the bride of him you -love. Make no long preparation nor delay. You will find us waiting for -you in the hall. Come, De Brecy, come. More lovers' words another -time."</p> - -<p class="normal">When they reached the hall, Agnes advanced at once to the table, -filled the cup, and drank; then, turning gayly to Jacques Cœur, she -said, "We have not been long, my friend. I went on purpose to cut -caresses short. Our fair companion will be here anon. How brightly the -stars are shining. Methinks it would be very pleasant if one could -wing one's way there up aloft, and look into the brilliant eyes of -heaven."</p> - -<p class="normal">A minute or two after, she turned somewhat pale, and seated herself in -a large arm-chair which stood near. She said nothing; but an -expression of pain passed across her countenance. Shortly after, De -Brecy's Agnes entered, prepared to go; and Agnes Sorel rose, -supporting herself by the arm of the chair, and saying, "Let us be -quick; I feel far from well."</p> - -<p class="normal">She was soon placed in the litter, and they went on quickly toward -Bourges; but once or twice, during the short journey, Jacques Cœur -put forth his head, urging the drivers of the litter to make more -haste. When they entered the court-yard of his house, and the litter -stopped before the great door, the good merchant sprang out at once, -saying, "Help me to carry her in, Jean. She is very ill."</p> - -<p class="normal">They lifted her out in their arms, and bore her into the house, pale -and writhing. Confusion and dismay spread through the court. -Physicians were called, and gave some relief. She became somewhat -better--well enough to travel to a distant castle; but, ere six weeks -were over, the kind, the beautiful, the frail was in her grave, and -none knew how she died.</p> - -<p class="normal">From that moment a fear of poison seized upon the mind of Charles the -Seventh, and affected the happiness of all his after days.</p> - -<p class="normal">The king did not keep his promise of being present at the marriage of -De Brecy and Agnes de St. Florent, and their own joy was baptized in -sorrow.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>FOOTNOTES.</h3> -<br> -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_01" href="#div4Ref_01">Footnote 1</a>: Jacques -Cœur, it would seem, alluded to a fact not -generally stated by English historians, which I may as well mention -here as a curious illustration of the habits of those times. After the -death of the unhappy Richard the Second, when it was currently -reported throughout Europe that the successful usurper had put him to -death in prison, the Duke of Orleans sent a cartel to Henry of -Lancaster, by the hands of Champagne, king-at-arms, and Orleans his -herald, demanding a combat of one hundred noblemen of France against -one hundred of the Lancastrian party of England, the one party to be -headed by the duke, the other by the new King of England. He gave the -choice of any place between Angoulême and Bordeaux, and endeavored -earnestly to bring about the meeting. Henry, in his reply, evading the -demand, takes exception to the titles which the Duke had given him, -stands upon his dignity as a king, and expresses great surprise that -the duke should call him to the field without having previously -solemnly abjured an alliance contracted between them in the year 1396. -To this the Duke of Orleans tartly replied, in a letter full of -pungent and bitter satire. Among other galling passages is the -following: "And as to what you say, that no lord or knight, let his -condition be what it will, ought to demand a combat without renouncing -his alliance (with his adversary), I am not aware that you renounced -to your lord the King Richard your oath of fealty to him before you -proceeded against his person in the manner which you have done." And -again: "As to what you write, that whatever a prince and king does -ought to be done for the honor of God, and for the common benefit of -all Christendom and his own kingdom, and not for vain-glory, nor for -any temporal cupidity, I reply that you say well; but if you had so -acted in your own country in times past, many things which you have -done would not have been perpetrated in the land in which you live." -By such expressions he galled Henry the Fourth into an indefinite sort -of acceptance of his challenge, though the English king would not -condescend to name time or place. The letters are still extant, and -are very curious.</p> -<br> -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_02" href="#div4Ref_02">Footnote 2</a>: His exact -words.</p> -<br> -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_03" href="#div4Ref_03">Footnote 3</a>: He -afterward nobly proved his devotion to Charles the -Seventh, by an act which distinguished him more than all the military -services he rendered to that prince. His dismissal from the court was -demanded, as the price of even a partial reconciliation between the -king and the young Duke of Burgundy. Charles resisted firmly; but Du -Châtel voluntarily resigned all his prospects and retired, to free his -master from embarrassment.</p> -<br> -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_04" href="#div4Ref_04">Footnote 4</a>: A large -piece of artillery, which threw immense balls of -stone, evidently by the force of gunpowder. It was by the discharge of -one of these that the famous Earl of Salisbury was killed under the -walls of Orleans the following year.</p> -<br> -<br> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Agnes Sorel, by -G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford James) - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AGNES SOREL *** - -***** This file should be named 51352-h.htm or 51352-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/3/5/51352/ - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by -Google Books (the New York Public Library) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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