Lord Montagu's Page: An Historical Romance

by G. P. R. James

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  Edward Langdale entered the presence of the cardinal firm and upright;and, to say the truth, now tricked out with all the taste and ornamentwhich the skill of a French tailor of the reign of Louis XIII., and theshort time allowed for the operation, permitted, he was ashandsome-looking a youth as you could easily see in this world of uglyhearts and indifferent faces. His air was perfectly calm and wellassured, but not presumptuous; and the easy grace with which he carriedhis hat with its long plume in one hand, and the velvet case with thepassport in the other, was not unnoticed by the cardinal, who wasaccustomed to observe slight indications and to draw his inferences fromthem,--not exactly taking for granted that they meant what they seemedto mean; for there was many a man in France and at the court whoaffected well more gayety than the lark when his heart was full ofanxiety and sorrow, many a one who assumed a grave solemnity who withinwas as light a bubble as ever floated down the stream of time. But oftenhe drew inferences the most opposite from the outside indications, andsaw evidence of the pinchbeck in the fresh glitter of the gilding.

  Richelieu did not make any motion to rise, but, pointing to a seat nearhim, he bent his head calmly, and said, "Be seated, sir. I am glad tosee you in Nantes. How long is it since you arrived?"

  "Yesterday evening, my lord," replied Edward, "I reached the city,having been delayed by several causes during many days. Indeed, it isprobable I should not have visited this city at all had not some of theroyal officers refused to recognise my safe-conduct."

  "Perhaps they did not recognise your person," said the cardinal, softly,continuing to gaze at the young Englishman with a keen and scrutinizinglook. "But I think, Monsieur Apsley, I must have seen your facesomewhere before."

  "That cannot be, may it please your Eminence," replied Edward, frankly."I never had the honor of beholding you till now."

  "You speak French with great purity," said the minister. "Did you neverreside in this country?"

  "I visited it some time ago, but did not remain more than a few months,"the youth replied; "but I studied the language long in my own country,and spoke it continually with those who spoke it well."

  "Well, indeed!" said Richelieu; "but they tell me you are learned inmany ways, and doubtless you have given attention to ourpoets,--superior, in refinement at least, to any that the world canboast. Let me have a sample of your taste. What think you of these linesjust sent to me by a young poet? The hand is inexperienced, but I thinkthe head is good. You can read the language, of course." And he handedthe lines to Edward, who, confounded by what was passing, took the paperand gazed at it for a moment in silence. Then, feeling that suchsilence might be dangerous, he proceeded to read the verses aloud, withgood emphasis and a graceful delivery:--

  "Who on the height of power would stand must be Hard as the rock to those who dare his arm; To the indifferent, cool; and tenderly Treat the young faults of those who mean no harm.

  "The sunshine warms the serpent in the brake: Then crush his head while lasts his sleeping hour, Nor wait till, fresh envenom'd, he awake. There still are snakes enow where there is power."

  Whether he discovered by the similarity of the writing with thesignature of the safe-conduct that the verses were the cardinal's own,or that he thought he saw some allusion to the minister's situationwhich discovered the author, I know not; but there were particularpassages which he dwelt upon in reading; and the minister smiledapprovingly, saying, "Well! exceedingly well, Monsieur Apsley. The poetloses nothing on your lips. Think you the verses good?"

  "Very good, your Eminence," replied Edward. "Were the arrangement of thelines somewhat different, they would make an excellent speech in atragedy."

  "Ha! say you so?" said the minister, apparently well pleased: "I willgive the author that hint. He has some small merit, and may perhapshereafter aim at higher flights."

  "He has chosen a high subject now, sir," replied Edward, "But, by yourpardon, I did not come here to read poetry, however good, but to requestyour Eminence to recognise my safe-conduct and to let me go forward onmy way."

  Richelieu's brow became a little shaded. "So fast!" he said, as ifspeaking to himself, and then demanded, "Where do you wish to go?"

  "First to Niort," answered Edward, boldly, "where I was going when I wasstopped, and then, by Paris, into Switzerland."

  The cardinal paused and gazed at him for a moment in silence, and thenreplied, "There are previously several matters to be inquired into. Itrust we are here in France too courteous to stay any gentlemantravelling through our country for purposes of mere pleasure orinstruction, though there may be matters of enmity, and even war,between the two nations. I trust we are too honest to give asafe-conduct and then to deny its efficacy. But spies we hang, younggentleman."

  The words sounded chilling upon Edward Langdale's ear; but he knew thata moment's silence might be destruction, and he replied, at once, "I amno spy, your Eminence; and, whatever I may have done that is indiscreet,I came not to examine or report, and never will, any thing I see in thiscountry. It is as safe with me as with yourself, lord cardinal."

  "Then you acknowledge you have done indiscreet things?" said Richelieu.

  "Probably," answered the young man: "who has not? But, still, I am nospy."

  "Of the character of a spy there may be many definitions," answered theminister; "and modern codes do not exactly limit themselves to theHebrew interpretation of the term, to wit, that he is a person who goesout to see the nakedness of the land. But, that apart, we must know themeaning of what the letters in this bag contain." And, stretching backhis hand, he took the wallet and drew out a letter, while Edwardobserved, as calmly as he could, "I am not responsible, your Eminence,for what those letters contain. I know not the contents of any one ofthem, but merely took them as requested to persons in France with whomthe writers had no other means of communication."

  He spoke the truth; for he had not seen and did not know the contents ofany one of the letters he had borne across the channel, except that tothe good syndic Clement Tournon, which announced the speedy arrival ofLord Denbigh's fleet.

  Richelieu paid no apparent attention to what he said, but read from theletter he held in his hand: "'To the most mighty Prince the Duc deRohan. These will be given to you by one in whom you can put allconfidence. Yield him all credence in what he shall tell you on the partof a true friend.' 'To his Highness the Prince de Soubise. Monsieur: Letme commend to you most highly the bearer, a young English gentleman ofgood house, true, faithful, and worthy of all credit. He ought to be thepossessor of great estate; but I assure your Highness that his merit isabove his fortunes, and that the dearest trust you have you may confideto his keeping.' Signed with a large B. All the rest, sir, are of thesame tenor,--without due signature, and in vague terms. What is themeaning of this?"

  "Probably the writers foresaw," replied Edward, who had determined onhis course, "that the letters might fall into the hands of yourEminence, and, knowing themselves not your friends, might not wish tomake you my enemy."

  "Bold, upon my life!" exclaimed Richelieu, in a tone of surprise.

  "But true!" said Edward. "I much wish to see the Duc de Rohan or thePrince de Soubise, upon matters totally unconnected with those letters;and when your Eminence gives me permission to proceed I shall seek theminstantly."

  "When I give permission," said Richelieu, somewhat scornfully; "butwell,--'tis very well. Sir, these letters are very suspicious, and wouldwell justify the detention of the bearer. But I must ask some morequestions. What seek you with Messieurs de Soubise and Rohan, twonoblemen in arms against their sovereign?"

  "My lord cardinal, my business with them is private. Those letters aresuspicious or not, as they may be viewed: they are not criminal; andthough, as you shall determine, they may perhaps justify my detention,yet I assure you once again I knew not their contents until this moment.You must be the judge of your own conduct. I know my own purposes, andcan safely say my only object in seeking t
o see those two princes is onewith which your Eminence has no concern."

  "I _am_ the judge of my own conduct, young gentleman," answered theminister, in a not ungentle voice. "But see you here. Sir Peter Apsleyhas been represented to me as a good, lubberly youth, whom his relationsand guardians are fain to send to foreign lands to see if he can gathersome grains of sense and learning amongst more quick-witted people. Now,here we have a young man well read, ready and quick, of a fine taste,and speaking many tongues. This is suspicious too,--unless indeed youhave visited some shrine and the saint has worked a miracle."

  "My lord cardinal, it would befit me ill to bandy words with you,"replied Edward: "I should but fare the worse. Your qualities are notunknown in England; and, having said all I can rightly say, I would notwillingly try to match my wit against yours."

  "I know few who could do it better for your age," said the cardinal,perhaps remembering still with pleasure the youth's praise of his notsuper-excellent verses. "But now to another theme. Who is the girl thatis travelling with you, first as a page, then in the habit of apeasant-girl? Your paramour, I trust, she is not."

  The cheek of Edward Langdale glowed like fire. "You wrong us both, evenby the thought, lord cardinal," he said, although Richelieu had spokenthe last words with a somewhat threatening brow. "You have heard me avowthat I have been perhaps guilty of some indiscretion; and I wish toHeaven she had never come with me; but I could not dream of wronging aninnocent girl who has trusted entirely to me, and should think my lovefor her but a poor and false excuse were I to do so even in thought. Asto her being with me, your Eminence may surmise many motives; but,believe me, all were honest."

  "I am willing to suppose it," answered the cardinal, mildly. "You wishto marry: is it not so?"

  Edward bowed his head.

  "And you fear there may be difficulties raised by her family?" continuedRichelieu, in a tone of inquiry.

  "Many," replied the youth.

  "Perhaps there is a difference in rank," suggested the cardinal.

  "It may be so," answered Edward; "but yet I am a gentleman, and all myfriends have been so, as far as we can trace the house."

  "Well, we shall hear what she says herself," answered the minister,ringing a small silver bell.

  The exempt immediately appeared at the door, and the cardinal bade himcall Mademoiselle de Mirepoix from the neighboring room.

  It is to be feared that Lucette was not a heroine. Her step wastottering, and her face pale, when, after a pause of one or two minutes,she entered the cardinal's presence. But the dress she now wore, richand in very good taste, not only displayed the young beauties of herface and form, but made her look several years older than she reallywas. Edward, conscious of what she must feel, bent his eyes to theground for an instant as she entered, but the next moment, with a suddenimpulse, advanced, and, taking her hand, led her toward the minister.

  Richelieu was evidently struck with her appearance: it was somethingvery different from what he had expected to see, and the disappointmentwas a pleasant one. With dignified politeness he rose to meet her, andled her himself to a seat, saying, "I am glad to see you, mademoiselle.I trust you rested well last night?"

  Lucette raised her eyes with a look of surprise at the unexpectedkindness of his tone, and a warm blush passed over her cheek, while shereplied, "I did not sleep at all, my lord: I was too much frightened."

  "Nay, be not frightened here, my child," replied Richelieu, in afatherly tone. "I must ask you a few questions, to which you must giveme sincere answers; but it will soon be over. To the bold and daring,men in my position must be stern and harsh; but the timid and submissivewill only meet kindness and protection. First, then, tell me, what isyour name?"

  "Lucette de Mirepoix," answered the beautiful young girl, in a lowvoice.

  "De Mirepoix du Valais?" inquired the minister.

  "The same," said Lucette, looking up again with some surprise.

  "Now let me hear if you have ever been in England," said Richelieu,fixing his dark eyes upon her.

  "Yes," answered Lucette, at once. "I have been in England for severalyears."

  "Do you know why you were sent there?" asked the cardinal. "Surely thisis a richer and more beautiful land than that cold, foggy island."

  "Oh, no!" cried Lucette, eagerly. "It is true, I know nothing of theland of France except about Rochelle; but nothing can be more beautifulthan England."

  "And you would gladly marry an Englishman?" said Richelieu, with asmile. Lucette blushed deeply, but answered nothing, and the cardinalwent on:--"You have not yet told me why you were sent to England."

  "I do not personally know," answered Lucette; "but I have heard that alady--I think, called Madame de Luynes--claimed me as my nearestrelation, and that my other friends did not choose to give me up to her,which the law might have forced them to do if she could have found me inFrance."

  Richelieu smiled. "That is a mistake," he said. "We would have foundmeans to frustrate such an attempt. Do you know if she still persists inher purpose?"

  "Oh, yes," answered Lucette, quickly: "at least, so I have been told.They said that she had power enough in England, through the Duke ofBuckingham, to have me given up to her, even there. That was one reasonwhy I returned to France."

  "And not to wed this young gentleman?" said the cardinal.

  Lucette blushed again, and was silent.

  "But you love him, and are willing to wed him?" continued Richelieu,seeming to take a pleasure in the rosy embarrassment his questionsproduced.

  Poor Lucette! It was indeed a painful moment for her; but she felt thather own fate, and that of Edward also, depended upon her words, and,with her eyes bent down, and her face all in a glow, she answered, in alow but firm tone, "Yes." Then, springing up as if she could bear thetorturing interrogation no longer, she darted across, cast herself uponEdward's bosom, and wept.

  "Answer enough, methinks," said Richelieu, speaking to himself. "Andnow, daughter," he continued, gravely, "only two more questions, and Ihave done. But your answers must be frank and open. Did your goodfriends in La Rochelle know and consent to your travelling alone withthis young gentleman disguised as a page?"

  "Oh, yes!" sobbed the poor girl: "they themselves proposed it. They knewthey could trust to his honor, and so could I. But we were not alone; wehad servants with us; and--and--"

  "Enough," said Richelieu. "Monsieur de Soubise, you are a confidentman."

  These words might have shown Lucette that she and the cardinal had beenplaying in some sort at cross-purposes; but they were spoken in a lowtone, and in her agitation she did not hear or take notice of them.

  "Now for the last question," said Richelieu: "but you must first resumeyour seat;" and, taking her hand, he led her back to her chair. "Tellme,--and tell me true, my child: have you ever heard that younggentleman standing opposite to you called by any other name than SirPeter Apsley?"

  It was a terrible blow to poor Lucette. She had been educated in truthand honor; a lie was abhorrent to all her previous feelings andthoughts; and yet, if she told the truth, she knew or believed that shewas condemning one whom she now felt she loved more than any one onearth, to an ignominious death. She turned deadly pale, and raised hereyes to Edward's face, as if seeking counsel or help.

  Edward gave the help without a moment's hesitation. Stepping quicklyforward so as to stand immediately before the prelate's chair, he said,"Ask her not that question, my lord cardinal. Neither make those sweethonest lips utter a word of falsehood, nor force them to betray a secretshe thinks herself bound to keep. I will answer for her. She _has_ heardme called by another name; but I could not have come into this countrywithout obtaining the passport of Sir Peter Apsley,--a young man of myown age and height,--who had given up the intention of visiting France.My name is Edward Langdale, son of Sir Richard Langdale, of Buckley, ofas good and old a family as his whose name I took."

  Richelieu gazed at him coldly, without the least mark of surprise. "Youhave tried to deceive m
e," he said; "but you could not. It was adangerous experiment, sir. And, now, what have you to say why the fateyou have sought should not fall upon your head?"

  "Not much, your Eminence," replied Edward; "and all I have to say iswritten here." And, as he spoke, he stretched forth his hand and tookthe verses he had before read from the small table at the cardinal'sright hand, and repeated the first stanza:--

  "'Who on the height of power would stand must be Hard as a rock to those who dare his arm; To the indifferent, cool; and tenderly Treat the young faults of those who mean no harm.'

  "That is all I can plead in favor of forgiveness."

  "And you have fairly won it," said Richelieu, gravely; "but it shallcome in such a shape as perhaps you do not expect."

  The words were ambiguous, and the cardinal's look was so cold thatLucette's heart fell. She hesitated a moment, and then cast herself atRichelieu's feet, murmuring, "Oh, spare him, my lord! spare him! He hastold you the whole truth now."

  "Whatever becomes of me," exclaimed Edward, "for God's sake, give not upthis dear girl to Madame de Chevreuse."

  He had touched the key-note; but it only served to confirm a half-formedpurpose in the great minister's mind. A smile spread over his face,which was then eminently handsome, and, first turning to Lucette, hesaid, "He has told me the whole truth, has he? Still, he will be all thebetter of a safe-conduct in his own name. Shall I put in the page andall, young gentleman?" Then, ringing the silver bell again, he orderedthe exempt, who had still waited without, to carry the passport of SirPeter Apsley to one of his secretaries and bid him make a copy,substituting the name of Edward Langdale for Peter Apsley. "And hark,"he continued; "bend down your ear."

  The man obeyed. Richelieu whispered to him for a moment or two, and theexempt retired, closing the door.

  Still, Edward Langdale did not feel altogether at ease as to the fate ofLucette. The smile upon the cardinal's lip when he proposed to "put inthe page and all" evidently marked the words as a jest; and Richelieunow sat silent for several minutes, gazing upon the ground, as if stillsomewhat undecided.

  At length he looked up. "Monsieur de Langdale," he said, pointing to theleathern case, "that belongs to you. It shall be sent to your room. Init you will find nine hundred and eighty crowns of gold, all told.Moreover, you can take the letters: I trust to your honor as a gentlemannot to use them against the king's service. Your safe-conduct will behere in a few minutes; but, before I sign it, I will put the sincerityof yourself and this young lady to one more test."

  He paused, and looked at them both gravely for a moment, adding, "Youhave given me to understand that you wish to unite your fates. You havetravelled so long together unrestrained, that, whether your familiesconsent or not, it is desirable, for the lady's sake, that there shouldbe a sacred bond between you. I now ask you both, are you willing toplight your faith to each other at the altar?--now,--this very hour?"

  Edward's heart beat high, it must be owned, with joy, although therewere many other emotions in his bosom; and perhaps at that moment heregretted the loss of property which was rightfully his, more than hehad ever done before.

  Lucette bent down her eyes with a face suffused with blushes; but, whenthe cardinal again demanded, "What say you, Mademoiselle de Mirepoix?"she took his hand and kissed it for her sole reply.

  "With joy, my lord," answered Edward. "But will our marriage--both underage--be valid without the consent of relations?"

  Richelieu smiled. "Their consent you must obtain hereafter," he said;"but, in the mean time, I will make your union so firm that no power onearth or in hell can break it. By the power which the Church has givenme, I will sweep away all obstacles. But remember, sir, for the time youseparate at the altar. You may indeed convey Mademoiselle de Mirepoixto either the Prince de Soubise or the Duc de Rohan,--not as your bride,but with the same respect you assure me you have hitherto shown her. Youmust promise me, as a gentleman, to return here, and confer with me, assoon as you have seen the young lady safe under the protection of one ofher two cousins. Tell him--whichever it is--that in the peculiarcircumstances of the case the cardinal prime minister has judged itimperatively necessary that you should be married, and has himself seenthe ceremony performed; that for two years you leave your bride withhim, but at the end of that time you will claim her and take her, andthat all my power shall be exerted to give her to you. He will find memore difficult to frustrate than Madame de Chevreuse."

  "The gentlemen your Eminence was pleased to summon," said a servant atthe door; and the next moment a number of different persons entered theroom, amongst whom the only one known to Edward and Lucette was Monsieurde Tronson.

  "Gentlemen, by your good leave, you are called as witnesses to amarriage," said Richelieu. "You, Monsieur de Bleville, have the kindnessto take note in double of all the proceedings: there is paper. Go on tothe chapel: the almoner is there by this time: I will follow in aninstant. You will find two ladies there, I think. Tronson, stay with mefor a moment. Monsieur de la Force, you are of good years: giveMademoiselle de Mirepoix your hand."

  The crowd passed out, carrying with them Edward and Lucette, bothfeeling as if they were in a dream. Richelieu extended his hand gravelyto Monsieur de Tronson, saying, "You see, De Tronson, even I canforgive."

  The secretary pressed his hand respectfully, saying, "Those you doforgive, if they be generous and wise, will never offend again. But Iunderstand not this matter, your Eminence."

  "Not understand!" cried Richelieu, with a laugh. "Did I not say I wouldpunish them both?--not these two pretty children, for I do believe Imake them happy,--but the proud Duchesse de Chevreuse and the rebelliousPrince de Soubise. What will be in the heart of Marie de Rohan when shehears that the heiress, on whose guardianship she had set her heart tostrengthen herself by her marriage into some powerful house, is alreadymarried to a poor English gentleman? What will be in her heart, Tronson,I say? Hell! hell! To Soubise--if he submits,--as submit he must--we canmake compensation. But there is much to be done, Tronson, and I mustleave it to you to do; for in an hour I must be on my way to Beauregard,where I expect a visit from Monsieur this evening. First, these twolovers must set out to-night for Niort. Let a coach well horsed be readyfor them. Then they must have some aged and prudent dame to bear themcompany; and next, a good sure man must keep his eye on the lad till hereturns here, which will be in a day or two."

  "Then does your Eminence still suspect him?" asked De Tronson.

  "Suspect him? No, man, no: I know him!" answered Richelieu. "This isEdward Langdale, page to my Lord Montagu,--a brave, bold, honest, cleverlad, who shall do me good service yet, without knowing it. He is goingto join his lord somewhere on the frontier, or in Lorraine or in Savoy,doubtless with tidings from Buckingham,--though there be no letters fromthe gaudy duke amongst those he carries. I like the lad, and, were itpossible to gain him--but that cannot be. Now, let us to the chapel. Yousee to the rest; I have but time to dispose of Madame de Chevreuse'sfair ward, and make all so sure that she must fret in vain."[1]

  [Footnote 1: Some historians have fancied that there were feelings oftenderness on the part of Richelieu toward the beautiful Marie de Rohan;but it is only necessary to look into any of the memoirs of those times,and to remember the character of the man, to see that Madame deChevreuse was incessantly employed in thwarting his plans, undervaluinghis genius, and even ridiculing his person; and that nothing but themost bitter enmity could be excited on his part by such conduct.]