CHAPTER XXV.
Two large gates of that fine hammered iron which is now rarely seen,twisted into leaves and flowers and coronets, with gilding here andthere, and the arms of Chevreuse and Montbazon let into the centre, shutthe small park of Dampierre from the road. They seemed indeed to offerno ingress to any one, for Edward rang the great bell at least half adozen times before any one appeared; but then a man walked slowly downthe road from the chateau itself, and examined the strangers through thefilagree-work of the gate as he came. At neither of the two lodges atthe sides of the gate was there the least sign of life.
The man, who seemed an old servant, however, and who carried a large keyin his hand, applied it to the lock without asking any questions, andEdward, before entering, inquired if Madame de Chevreuse was at thechateau.
"I do not know," replied the servant, in an indifferent tone. "A goodmany people rode away the day before yesterday, and I have not seen hersince; but, if you ride up, they will tell you there."
Edward accordingly rode on, and, though the distance was not more thanthree hundred yards, he perceived that his coming had created moresensation at the chateau than at the gates. There were heads at severalof the windows, and two or three men came forth upon the terrace andwatched the approaching party. Edward rode slowly to give time for afull examination; for, from all he had heard at Nantes, he could verywell conceive that the fair duchess might be inclined to stand somewhatupon her guard before she admitted strangers. Dismounting before thechateau, he gave his horse to Jacques Beaupre to hold, and advancedtoward one of the servants at the door, who showed no disposition toadvance toward him, inquiring if the duchess was at Dampierre and wouldreceive him. "Come in, sir," said another servant, who had just comedown the steps. "Go up that staircase and turn to your right through thefirst door. You will soon find somebody who will inform you."
Edward obeyed, thinking the manners of the Chateau of Dampierre somewhatstrange, it must be confessed, but being perfectly prepared to followthe old adage of doing at Rome &c. The stairs were wide and low-stepped,of dark polished oak, with richly-ornamented balusters; and the walls ofthe staircase were covered with rich pictures both of Italian andFlemish schools. At the top was a broad landing-place or vestibule, withdoors all round; but, following the directions he had received, theyoung Englishman opened the first on the right and entered a splendidsaloon, where, seated in a great arm-chair, was a lady of gorgeous anddazzling beauty, with a little girl of some seven or eight years old ather knee, nearly as beautiful as herself. The eyes of both were fixedupon the opening door with a gay look of expectation; and the momentthat Edward was fairly in the room the little girl ran forward, sprungup, and kissed him. The beautiful lady followed and kissed him likewise,laughing gayly as she did so.
It was certainly a surprise, though not a very disagreeable one, andEdward would not have objected to go over the same scene again; but,fancying there must be some mistake, he said, "I beg pardon for myintrusion. I imagine, madame, that you have--happily for me--taken mefor some one else, by the honor you show me. I am merely a page to LordMontagu, whom I hope to find here."
"No mistake at all, monsieur," said the gay lady. "It is a vow,sir,--altogether a vow,--which I and my daughter made, to kiss the firstgentleman that came to relieve our solitude; for my magnificent lord haschosen to take himself away with all his people, and we have seen nofaces but those of the old servants for two whole days. It was a vow,sir, we accomplished; but, even had it not been, I suppose I am not thefirst duchess who has kissed a page, and probably I shall not be thelast."
"Heaven forbid!" said Edward, entering into the humor of the hour, "ifall duchesses' kisses are as sweet. But I presume I am in the presenceof Madame de Chevreuse, for whom I have a letter."
"Well, well," said the bright, reckless woman, "sit down here beside meand tell me more. So you are my friend Lord Montagu's page. He hasexpected you long, and told me all about you. How happened you to lingeron the road? Now, I warrant you met with some pretty little maiden, andcould not tear yourself away till you had beguiled the poor thing."
Edward took the seat to which she pointed beside her own chair, andproceeded to tell her all he thought necessary to account for his longdelay, but without alluding in any way to Lucette. The explanation wassomewhat long, and the duchess listened listlessly, sometimes gazing athis face, sometimes looking down at her own beautiful hands and shiftingthe rings about in an absent manner. Edward, as was customary at thatperiod, nourished two locks of dark silky hair, twisted into those longpendent curls which brought forth at an after-period the famouspuritanical tirade upon "the unloveliness of love-locks;" and, a littleto his surprise, as he went on he felt the fair duchess's hands busywith the curls and twisting them round her fingers. Suddenly, however,she started, exclaiming, "What am I about?" and Edward innocentlythought she was shocked at the familiarity into which a fit of absencehad betrayed her. Not a bit of it; and he was soon undeceived.
"Surely I saw two attendants with you as I was looking from the window,"she continued; "and I have totally forgotten the poor men and the poorhorses. Run, my child, and tell Paton, the Savoyard, to have the men andhorses monsieur brought here taken care of; and bid somebody carry hisbaggage to the chamber Lord Montagu had, next to mine. It is strange,you will think," she continued, as her daughter tripped away: "I havenot a soubrette in the house, nor any woman but the old housekeeper andmy own girl; but I came away from Britanny in such haste, not knowingwhether I should be suffered to come away at all, that the fewer peopleI brought with me the better. Now let me hear the rest, and give me theletter you mentioned,--after which you shall have some food."
Edward had little more to tell, except the execution of poor Chalais,and the permission given him by Richelieu to pursue his journey. Thefirst he touched but slightly, as the common rumor of something morethan the mere relations of friendship between the unhappy count andMadame de Chevreuse had reached him; but the duchess would hear all, andfor a time she seemed greatly moved, although her love was so veryminutely divided that there could be no great portion for any individuallover. At his account of his last interview with Richelieu,--which wassomewhat lame, from there being various circumstances which he feltbound to keep back,--Madame de Chevreuse mused.
"The cardinal has some object," she said: "in fact, he always has. Itwas not for your good mien he let you go on, depend upon it,--though youare a handsome boy, I do not deny, and if the fox had been a woman Icould have understood his favor for you better,--though probably hewould then have kept you with him, as I intend to do."
"Indeed, madame," replied Edward, "I fear my duty requires me to go onimmediately, if, as I gather from your conversation, Lord Montagu is nothere. I need not tell you how much I should like to stay."
"Why do you not add something about bright eyes and beautiful lips, &c.&c. &c., in true page style?" said Madame de Chevreuse; and then, givinghim a playful box on the ear, she added, "Were not you told to take myorders and follow my directions, sir? It was so explained to me; but Isee I have a great deal to teach you yet. You will have to wait till theday after to-morrow. Here; listen; put down your head." And as Edwardobeyed she brought her rosy lips so near his ear that the perfumedbreath fanned his cheek. "To-morrow night," she whispered, "I shall havenews of Montagu, and the day after, perhaps, I shall find it convenientto take flight for Lorraine myself. The neighborhood of the court issomewhat dangerous for me; and my head looks prettier upon my ownshoulders than in the hands of the executioner. In the mean time, youhave to stay here and console my daughter and myself. We live the lifeof two nuns just now: you know how nuns live, I dare say,--young nuns,of course, I mean. And now, let us talk of any thing but business: youhave to amuse me, and I have to be amused. I do not much care how."
I think it may be as well to drop for the present the furtherconversation of the gay young duchess and her still younger companion.She had all her life been famous for free speaking, and a littlecelebrated for free acting; and
, had it not been necessary to showsomething of the life and manners of the times, I might have beentempted not to bring her on the stage at all,--although, in writing theadventures of Lord Montagu's page, Edward's visit to Dampierre couldhardly be left out. It must be remembered, however, that, thoughsomewhat more beautiful, more gay and witty, than most of her courtlycompeers, Marie de Rohan was but a type of French society at that time.Few of the high dames of that day were at all more virtuous thanherself, although she had the candour--or the impudence, as it maybe--to make very few pretensions.
She had said that she had many things to teach Edward, and certainlyhers was not a very good school for a young lad; but he learned theremore perhaps than she imagined, and in the midst of her light coquetriesthe sweet pure image of his Lucette came up to his mind, like the odorof a fresh flower in the midst of some scene of revel. He thanked Godwith all his heart that she whom he loved had never been subjected tothe guardianship of such a woman; and he even felt pained that the pooryoung child her daughter should be witness to the reckless levity whichthe mother displayed. There is a holiness about childhood; and the heartof every man not impious revolts at the very thought of any thing whichcan profane that shrine of innocence.
Edward dined well; for the Duc de Chevreuse was one of the mostluxurious--the French writers call it splendid--of the nobility of theday. He is reported at one time to have ordered six magnificent coachesmerely to try which was the easiest; and he was not a man to have any ofhis many houses at any time unprovided with a good cook.
After dinner is the time for sober but not heavy chat: the mostpersistent of appetites is satisfied; the blood has something to do inthe process of digestion, and frolics less freely than at other times;and the brain itself turns hard work over to the stomach, and neithersports like a young horse set free from harness, nor lies down to sleeplike an ass upon a common. The Duchesse de Chevreuse went to lie downupon her bed and rest after dinner, as was then common; but, as wasfully as common, she asked the young Englishman to come and sit besideher. There were no triclinia in those days, nor _chaises longues_, norsofas; and, although piles of cushions had been introduced into a fewhouses by those who had served against or with the Turks, they had notfound their way into the Chateau de Dampierre. Her conversation was muchmore sober, however, than it had been in the earlier part of the day;and from it Edward learned that Lord Montagu had talked to her muchabout him, had told her his whole history, and had even left with her apurse of five hundred crowns for his use, expressing a conviction thatsome unforeseen accident had delayed him on his journey and might haveexhausted his finances.
"He seemed to take a vast deal of interest in you," said the duchess,"and made me long to see you. But, Monsieur Langdale, this conduct ofhis Eminence of Richelieu toward you puzzles me, and to my mind augurslittle good. Tell me: did any thing particular happen to you on theroad? Did you meet with any of the cardinal's people? Are these two menyou have brought with you sure and faithful?"
The remembrance of the two strangers who had endeavored to forcethemselves upon him, instantly recurred to Edward's mind, and he relatedthe whole adventure.
"Spies! spies, on my life!" cried the duchess. "I trust they did notdiscover you were coming here?"
"Not from me," answered Edward Langdale; "for I suspected them from thefirst."
"Ah! then you have learned to suspect betimes," said the duchess; "and Idare say you suspect women as much as men,--though we are more sincereby half. I say not we are more faithful, for men are so unfaithful thatwe should lose at that game; but we show more openly what we feel, andtherefore are more true. Now, tell me: were you ever in love, MonsieurLangdale?"
Thus she rambled on, with less gayety, and less familiarity, perhaps,than before dinner; but there was a sort of languor about her, a softsleepiness, which was perhaps more attractive, especially to a youngman. One of the greatest charms of that extraordinary woman was herinfinite variety. Was it now a desire merely to coquet with a young andhandsome lad? Was it only with the purpose of amusing a vacant hour ortwo? Was it without purpose at all, and that she simply gave way to thepassing feelings of the moment and with listless carelessness left theresults to chance? I know not; and probably she herself and EdwardLangdale were the only persons who ever knew.
Authors will get into difficulties sometimes, dear reader,--will come tosticking-places where they find it as difficult to go back as to wadethrough. The only way in such circumstances is to take a great jump;and, thank Heaven, the horses we ride are equal to any leap.
The next morning Edward and the duchess and her daughter met atbreakfast; and Madame de Chevreuse, if not in great spirits, wascheerful and gay, and full of plans for passing the day pleasantly. Shewould go and show the young Englishman the grotto and the rocks; theywould kill a stag in the adjoining forest; they would visit the _cure_of Chevreuse, and astonish the good man,--a sport which she by no meansdisliked: but while they were arranging all these schemes on the openspace before the chateau, a courier was seen riding up from the gates,and when he came near he handed the duchess two letters.
The blood left her cheek as she read, and, instantly drawing Edwardaside, she said, "We must part at once. You go on as fast as possible toGray. Wait there two days, and, if you hear no more, ride forward toTurin. As for myself, look here." And she put a paper into his hand. Itwas a copy of the decree banishing her to Lorraine, there to remain uponher own estates till the king's further pleasure.
"Order your horses quickly," she said. "Then come to my chamber for thesum Montagu left for you. Glimpses of sunshine! glimpses of sunshine inthis April-day life! and then dark clouds and heavy showers."
In an hour, Edward Langdale rode away from Dampierre. He was grave andsilent. What was in his heart who can tell? but he certainly did notview the world more brightly, or feel more confidence in human nature,than he had done before that short visit.
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