The White Plumes of Navarre: A Romance of the Wars of Religion
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CHAPTER XLV.
VALENTINE FINDS CLAIRE WORTHY
The mornings are fair--yes, very sweet and very clear at the Mas of theMountain well-nigh all the year round. However hot the day, howevermosquito-tormented the nights for those who do not protect themselves,the morn is ever fresh, with deep draughts of air cool as long-cellaredwine, and everywhere the scent of springy, low-growing plants--thethyme, the romarin, the juniper--making an undergrowth which supportsthe foot of the wanderer, and carries him on league after league almostwithout his knowledge.
There was great peace on the Valley of the Rhone. It was at peace evenfrom the drive of the eternal mistral, which, from horizon to horizon,turns all things greyish-white, the trees and herbage heavy with dust,and the heavens hiding themselves away under a dry steely pall.
"Avenio ventoso, Si non ventoso, venenoso,"
muttered the Professor, as he looked at the black mass to the north,which was the Palace of the Popes. "But I thank God it is windy, thisRhone Valley of ours, with its one great, sweeping, cleansing wind, sothat no poison can lurk anywhere."
He had a book in his hand, and he was looking abroad over the widevalley between the grey ridges of the Mountain of Barbentane and thelittle splintered peaks of the Alpilles. As on the landscape, greatpeace was upon the Professor.
But all suddenly, without noise of approach, Jean-aux-Choux stood beforehim--changed, indeed, from him who had been called "The Fool of theThree Henries." The fire of a strange passion glowed in his eye. Hisgreat figure was hollowed and ghastly. His regard seemed to burn like atorch that smokes. On the back of his huge hand the muscles stood outlike whipcords. His arms, bare beneath his shepherd's cape, were burnedto brick colour.
"Jean-aux-Choux!" cried the Professor, clapping his hands, "come and seemy mother--how content she will be."
The ex-fool made a sign of negation.
"No, I cannot enter," he said; "there is a woman down in the valleythere who would see Claire Agnew. She hath somewhat to say to her, whichit concerns her greatly to know."
"Who is the woman?" demanded the Professor.
"I will vouch for her," said Jean-aux-Choux; "her name is nothing to youor to any man."
"But Claire Agnew's name and life concern me greatly," said theProfessor hotly. "Had it been otherwise, I should even now have been inmy class-room with my students at the Sorbonne!"
"In your grave more like--with Catherine and Guise and Henry of Valois!"
"Possibly," said the Professor tranquilly, "all the same I must know!"
"I vouch for the woman. She has come with me from Collioure," saidJean-aux-Choux. "Nevertheless, do you come also, and we will standapart and watch while these two speak the thing which is in theirhearts!"
"But she may be a messenger of the Inquisition," the Professorprotested, whom hard experience had rendered suspicious in these latterdays. "A dagger under the cloak is easy to carry!"
"Did I not tell you I would vouch for her?" thundered Jean-aux-Choux,the face of the slayer of Guise showing for the first time; "is not thatenough?"
It was enough. Notwithstanding, the Professor armed himself with hissword-cane, and prepared to be of the company. They called Claire. Shecame forth to them with the flour of the bread-baking on her hands,gowned in white with the cook's apron and cap, which Madame Amelie hadmade for her--a fair, gracious, household figure.
She had no suspicions. Someone wanted to speak with her. There--down bythe olive plant! A woman--a single woman--come from far with tidings!Well, Jean-aux-Choux was with her. Good Jean--dear Jean!
Then, all suddenly, there sprang a vivid red to her cheek.
Could it be? News of the Abbe John. Ah, but why this woman? Why couldnot Jean-aux-Choux have brought the message himself?
And Claire quickened her step down towards the olives in the valley.
* * * * *
The two met, the girl and the woman--Claire, slender and dark, but witheyes young, and with colour bright--Valentine la Nina fuller and taller,in the mid-most flower of a superb beauty. Claire, fresh from thekitchen, showed an abounding energy in every limb. Sweet, gracious,happy, born to make others happy, the Woman of the Interior went tomeet her Sister of the Exterior--of the life without a home. Valentinela Nina had her plans ready. She had thought deeply over what to say andwhat to do before she met Claire Agnew. She must look into the depths ofthe girl's soul.
"I am called Valentine la Nina," she said, speaking with slowdistinctness, yet softly, "and I have come from very far to tell youthat I love the Prince Jean d'Albret. I am of his rank, and I demandthat you release him from any hasty bond or promise he may have made toyou!"
The colour flushed to the cheek of Claire Agnew, a deep sustained floodof crimson, which, standing a moment at the full, ebbed slowly away.
"Did he send you to ask me that question--to make that request?" shedemanded, her voice equally low and firm.
"I have come of my own accord," Valentine la Nina answered, "I speak forhis sake and for yours. The release, which it is not fitting that heshould ask--I, who am a king's daughter, laying aside my dignity, maywell require!"
It was curious that Claire never questioned the truth of thesestatements. Had not the lady come with Jean-aux-Choux? Nevertheless,when she spoke, it was clearly and to the main issue.
"Jean d'Albret has made me no promise--I have given none to him. True, Iknow that he loved me. If he loves me no more, let him come himself andtell me so!"
"He cannot," said Valentine la Nina, "he is in prison. He has been onthe Spanish galleys. He has suffered much----"
"It was for my sake, I know--all for my sake!" cried Claire, a burst ofgladness triumphing in her voice. Valentine la Nina stopped and lookedat her. If there had been only a light woman's satisfaction in one moreproof of her power, she would never have gone on with what she came todo. But Valentine saw clearly, being one of the few who can judge theirown sex. She watched Claire from under her long lashes, and the smilewhich hovered about the corners of her mouth was tender, sweet, andpitiful. Valentine la Nina was making up her mind.
"Well, let us agree that it was 'for your sake,'" she said. "Now it isyour turn to do something for his. He is ill, in prison. If he is sentback to the galleys he will soon die of exposure, of torture, and offatigue. If he, a prince of the House of France, weds with me, adaughter of the King of Spain, there will be peace. Great good will bedone through all the world."
"I do not care--I do not care," cried Claire, "let him first come andtell me himself."
"But he cannot, I tell you," said the other quietly; "he is in theprison of Tarragona!"
"Well, then, let him write!" said Claire, "why does he not write?"
Valentine la Nina produced a piece of paper, and handed it to Clairewithout a word. It was in John d'Albret's clear, clerkly hand. Claireand he had capped verses too often together by the light of MadameGranier's pine-cones for any mistake. She knew it instantly.
"Whatever this lady says is true, and if you have any feeling in your heart for your father, or love for me, do as she bids you!
"JEAN D'ALBRET DE BOURBON."
Three times Claire read the message to make sure.
Then she spoke. "What do you wish me to do? I am ready!"
"You will give this man up to me?"
"He never was mine to give, but if he had been, he is free togo--because he wills it!"
"I put my life in danger for him now--every moment I stay here," saidValentine la Nina; "Jean-aux-Choux will tell you so. Will you walk tothe gates of death with me to deliver him whom you love?"
"I will," said Claire, "I will obey you--that is, I will obey himthrough you!"
"This you do for the love you bear to the man whom you give up to me?"
"For what else?" cried Claire, the tears starting in her eyes. "Surelyan honest girl may love a man? She may be ready even to give her lifefor him. But--she will not hold him against his will!"
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"Then you will come with me to my father, the King of Spain?" Valentinepersisted. "Perhaps--I do not know--he will pardon Jean d'Albret at ourrequest--perhaps he will send us, all three, to the fires of theInquisition. That also I do not know!"
"And I do not care!" cried Claire; "I will come!"
"For his sake alone?" queried Valentine, resolved to test the girl tothe uttermost.
"For whose else?" cried Claire at last, exasperated; "not for yours, Isuppose! Nor yet for mine own! I have been searched for by yourInquisition bloodhounds before now. He saved me from that!"
"And I--all of you!" said Valentine la Nina to herself. "But the priceis somewhat heavy!"
Nevertheless, she had found Claire worthy.