Quentin Durward

by Walter Scott

  CHAPTER XXVII: THE EXPLOSION

  'T is listening fear, and dumb amazement all, When to the startled eye, the sudden glance Appears far south, eruptive through the cloud.

  THOMSON'S SUMMER

  The preceding chapter, agreeably to its title, was designed as aretrospect which might enable the render fully to understand the termsupon which the King of France and the Duke of Burgundy stood together,when the former, moved partly perhaps by his belief in astrology, whichwas represented as favourable to the issue of such a measure, and in agreat measure doubtless by the conscious superiority of his own powersof mind over those of Charles, had adopted the extraordinary, and uponany other ground altogether inexplicable, resolution of committing hisperson to the faith of a fierce and exasperated enemy--a resolution alsothe more rash and unaccountable, as there were various examples in thatstormy time to show that safe conducts, however solemnly plighted, hadproved no assurance for those in whose favour they were conceived; andindeed the murder of the Duke's grandfather at the Bridge of Montereau,in presence of the father of Louis, and at an interview solemnlyagreed upon for the establishment of peace and amnesty, was a horribleprecedent, should the Duke be disposed to resort to it.

  But the temper of Charles, though rough, fierce, headlong, andunyielding, was not, unless in the full tide of passion, faithless orungenerous, faults which usually belong to colder dispositions. He wasat no pains to show the King more courtesy than the laws of hospitalitypositively demanded; but, on the other hand, he evinced no purpose ofoverleaping their sacred barriers.

  On the following morning after the King's arrival, there was a generalmuster of the troops of the Duke of Burgundy, which were so numerousand so excellently appointed, that, perhaps, he was not sorry to have anopportunity of displaying them before his great rival. Indeed, while hepaid the necessary compliment of a vassal to his Suzerain, in declaringthat these troops were the King's and not his own, the curl of his upperlip and the proud glance of his eye intimated his consciousness that thewords he used were but empty compliment, and that his fine army at hisown unlimited disposal, was as ready to march against Paris as in anyother direction. It must have added to Louis's mortification thathe recognised, as forming part of this host, many banners of Frenchnobility, not only of Normandy and Bretagne, but of provinces moreimmediately subjected to his own authority, who, from various causes ofdiscontent, had joined and made common cause with the Duke of Burgundy.

  True to his character, however, Louis seemed to take little notice ofthese malcontents, while, in fact, he was revolving in his mind thevarious means by which it might be possible to detach them from thebanners of Burgundy and bring them back to his own, and resolved forthat purpose that he would cause those to whom he attached the greatestimportance to be secretly sounded by Oliver and other agents.

  He himself laboured diligently, but at the same time cautiously, to makeinterest with the Duke's chief officers and advisers, employing forthat purpose the usual means of familiar and frequent notice, adroitflattery, and liberal presents; not, as he represented, to alienatetheir faithful services from their noble master, but that they mightlend their aid in preserving peace betwixt France and Burgundy--an endso excellent in itself, and so obviously tending to the welfare of bothcountries and of the reigning Princes of either.

  The notice of so great and so wise a King was in itself a mighty bribe;promises did much, and direct gifts, which the customs of the timepermitted the Burgundian courtiers to accept without scruple, did stillmore. During a boar hunt in the forest, while the Duke, eager alwaysupon the immediate object, whether business or pleasure, gave himselfentirely up to the ardour of the chase, Louis, unrestrained by hispresence, sought and found the means of speaking secretly and separatelyto many of those who were reported to have most interest with Charles,among whom D'Hymbercourt and Comines were not forgotten; nor did he failto mix up the advances which he made towards those two distinguishedpersons with praises of the valour and military skill of the first, andof the profound sagacity and literary talents of the future historian ofthe period.

  Such an opportunity of personally conciliating, or, if the readerpleases, corrupting the ministers of Charles, was perhaps what the Kinghad proposed to himself as a principal object of his visit, even ifhis art should fail to cajole the Duke himself. The connection betwixtFrance and Burgundy was so close that most of the nobles belonging tothe latter country had hopes or actual interests connected with theformer, which the favour of Louis could advance, or his personaldispleasure destroy. Formed for this and every other species ofintrigue, liberal to profusion when it was necessary to advance hisplans, and skilful in putting the most plausible colour upon hisproposals and presents, the King contrived to reconcile the spirit ofthe proud to their profit, and to hold out to the real or pretendedpatriot the good of both France and Burgundy as the ostensible motive;whilst the party's own private interest, like the concealed wheel ofsome machine, worked not the less powerfully that its operations' werekept out of sight. For each man he had a suitable bait, and a propermode of presenting it; he poured the guerdon into the sleeve of thosewho were too proud to extend their hand, and trusted that his bounty,thought it descended like the dew, without noise and imperceptibly,would not fail to produce, in due season, a plentiful crop of goodwillat least, perhaps of good offices, to the donor. In fine, although hehad been long paving the way by his ministers for an establishment ofsuch an interest in the Court of Burgundy as should be advantageousto the interests of France, Louis's own personal exertions, directeddoubtless by the information of which he was previously possessed,did more to accomplish that object in a few hours than his agents hadeffected in years of negotiation.

  One man alone the King missed, whom he had been particularly desirousof conciliating, and that was the Count de Crevecoeur, whose firmness,during his conduct as Envoy at Plessis, far from exciting Louis'sresentment, had been viewed as a reason for making him his own ifpossible. He was not particularly gratified when he learnt that theCount, at the head of an hundred lances, was gone towards the frontiersof Brabant, to assist the Bishop, in case of necessity, against Williamde la Marck and his discontented subjects; but he consoled himself thatthe appearance of this force, joined with the directions which hehad sent by faithful messengers, would serve to prevent any prematuredisturbances in that country, the breaking out of which might, heforesaw, render his present situation very precarious.

  The Court upon this occasion dined in the forest when the hour of noonarrived, as was common in those great hunting parties; an arrangementat this time particularly agreeable to the Duke, desirous as he was toabridge that ceremonious and deferential solemnity with which he wasotherwise under the necessity of receiving King Louis. In fact, theKing's knowledge of human nature had in one particular misled him onthis remarkable occasion. He thought that the Duke would have beeninexpressibly flattered to have received such a mark of condescensionand confidence from his liege lord; but he forgot that the dependenceof this dukedom upon the Crown of France was privately the subject ofgalling mortification to a Prince so powerful, so wealthy, and so proudas Charles, whose aim it certainly was to establish an independentkingdom. The presence of the King at the Court of the Duke of Burgundyimposed on that prince the necessity of exhibiting himself in thesubordinate character of a vassal, and of discharging many ritesof feudal observance and deference, which, to one of his haughtydisposition, resembled derogation from the character of a SovereignPrince, which on all occasions he affected as far as possible tosustain.

  But although it was possible to avoid much ceremony by having the dinnerupon the green turf, with sound of bugles, broaching of barrels, and allthe freedom of a sylvan meal, it was necessary that the eveningrepast should, even for that very reason, be held with more than usualsolemnity.

  Previous orders for this purpose had been given, and, upon returning toPeronne, King Louis found a banquet prepared with such a profusionof splendour and magnificence, as became the wea
lth of his formidablevassal, possessed as he was of almost all the Low Countries, then therichest portion of Europe. At the head of the long board, which groanedunder plate of gold and silver, filled to profusion with the mostexquisite dainties, sat the Duke, and on his right hand, upon a seatmore elevated than his own, was placed his royal guest. Behind him stoodon one side the son of the Duke of Gueldres, who officiated as his grandcarver--on the other, Le Glorieux, his jester, without whom he seldomstirred for, like most men of his hasty and coarse character, Charlescarried to extremity the general taste of that age for court fools andjesters--experiencing that pleasure in their display of eccentricityand mental infirmity which his more acute but not more benevolent rivalloved better to extract from marking the imperfections of humanity inits nobler specimens, and finding subject for mirth in the "fears of thebrave and follies of the wise." And indeed, if the anecdote related byBrantome be true, that a court fool, having overheard Louis, in oneof his agonies of repentant devotion, confess his accession to thepoisoning of his brother, Henry, Count of Guyenne, divulged it next dayat dinner before the assembled court, that monarch might be supposedrather more than satisfied with the pleasantries of professed jestersfor the rest of his life.

  But, on the present occasion, Louis neglected not to take notice of thefavourite buffoon of the Duke, and to applaud his repartees, which hedid the rather that he thought he saw that the folly of Le Glorieux,however grossly it was sometimes displayed, covered more than the usualquantity of shrewd and caustic observation proper to his class.

  In fact, Tiel Wetzweiler, called Le Glorieux, was by no means a jesterof the common stamp. He was a tall, fine looking man, excellent at manyexercises, which seemed scarce reconcilable with mental imbecility,because it must have required patience and attention to attain them.He usually followed the Duke to the chase and to the fight; and atMontl'hery, when Charles was in considerable personal danger, woundedin the throat, and likely to be made prisoner by a French knight whohad hold of his horse's rein, Tiel Wetzweiler charged the assailant soforcibly as to overthrow him and disengage his master. Perhaps he wasafraid of this being thought too serious a service for a person of hiscondition, and that it might excite him enemies among those knights andnobles who had left the care of their master's person to the courtfool. At any rate, he chose rather to be laughed at than praised forhis achievement; and made such gasconading boasts of his exploits in thebattle, that most men thought the rescue of Charles was as ideal as therest of his tale; and it was on this occasion he acquired the titleof Le Glorieux (or the boastful), by which he was ever afterwardsdistinguished.

  Le Glorieux was dressed very richly, but with little of the usualdistinction of his profession; and that little rather of a symbolicalthan a very literal character. His head was not shorn; on the contrary,he wore a profusion of long curled hair, which descended from under hiscap, and joining with a well arranged and handsomely trimmed beard, setoff features, which, but for a wild lightness of eye, might have beentermed handsome. A ridge of scarlet velvet carried across the top ofhis cap indicated, rather than positively represented, the professionalcock's comb, which distinguished the head gear of a fool in right ofoffice. His bauble, made of ebony, was crested as usual with a fool'shead, with ass's ears formed of silver; but so small, and so minutelycarved, that, till very closely examined, it might have passed for anofficial baton of a more solemn character. These were the only badges ofhis office which his dress exhibited. In other respects, it was such asto match with that of the most courtly nobles. His bonnet displayed amedal of gold, he wore a chain of the same metal around his neck, andthe fashion of his rich garments was not much more fantastic than thoseof young gallants who have their clothes made in the extremity of theexisting fashion.

  To this personage Charles, and Louis, in imitation of his host, oftenaddressed themselves during the entertainment; and both seemed tomanifest, by hearty laughter, their amusement at the answers of LeGlorieux.

  "Whose seats be those that are vacant?" said Charles to the jester.

  "One of those at least should be mine by right of succession, Charles,"replied Le Glorieux.

  "Why so, knave?" said Charles.

  "Because they belong to the Sieur D'Hymbercourt and De Comines, who aregone so far to fly their falcons, that they have forgot their supper.They who would rather look at a kite on the wing than a pheasant on theboard, are of kin to the fool, and he should succeed to the stools, as apart of their movable estate."

  "That is but a stale jest, my friend Tiel," said the Duke; "but, foolsor wise men, here come the defaulters."

  As he spoke, Comines and D'Hymbercourt entered the room, and, afterhaving made their reverence to the two Princes, assumed in silence theseats which were left vacant for them.

  "What ho! sirs," exclaimed the Duke, addressing them, "your sport hasbeen either very good or very bad, to lead you so far and so late. SirPhilip de Comines, you are dejected--hath D'Hymbercourt won so heavya wager on you?--You are a philosopher, and should not grieve at badfortune.--By Saint George D'Hymbercourt looks as sad as thou dost.--Hownow, sirs? Have you found no game? or have you lost your falcons? orhas a witch crossed your way? or has the Wild Huntsman [the famousapparition, sometimes called le Grand Veneur. Sully gives some accountof this hunting spectre. S.] met you in the forest? By my honour, youseem as if you were come to a funeral, not a festival."

  While the Duke spoke, the eyes of the company were all directed towardsD'Hymbercourt and De Comines; and the embarrassment and dejection oftheir countenances, neither being of that class of persons to whom suchexpression of anxious melancholy was natural, became so remarkable, thatthe mirth and laughter of the company, which the rapid circulationof goblets of excellent wine had raised to a considerable height, wasgradually hushed; and, without being able to assign any reason for sucha change in their spirits, men spoke in whispers to each other, as onthe eve of expecting some strange and important tidings.

  "What means this silence, Messires?" said the Duke, elevating his voice,which was naturally harsh. "If you bring these strange looks, and thisstranger silence, into festivity, we shall wish you had abode in themarshes seeking for herons, or rather for woodcocks and howlets."

  "My gracious lord," said De Comines, "as we were about to return hitherfrom the forest, we met the Count of Crevecoeur--"

  "How!" said the Duke, "already returned from Brabant?--but he found allwell there, doubtless?"

  "The Count himself will presently give your Grace an account of hisnews," said D'Hymbercourt, "which we have heard but imperfectly."

  "Body of me, where is the Count?" said the Duke.

  "He changes his dress, to wait upon your Highness," answeredD'Hymbercourt.

  "His dress? Saint Bleu!" exclaimed the impatient Prince, "what care Ifor his dress! I think you have conspired with him to drive me mad."

  "Or rather, to be plain," said De Comines, "he wishes to communicatethese news at a private audience."

  "Teste dieu! my Lord King," said Charles, "this is ever the way ourcounsellors serve us.--If they have got hold of aught which theyconsider as important for our ear, they look as grave upon the matterand are as proud of their burden as an ass of a new pack saddle.--Someone bid Crevecoeur come to us directly!--He comes from the frontiers ofLiege, and we, at least" (he laid some emphasis on the pronoun), "haveno secrets in that quarter which we would shun to have proclaimed beforethe assembled world."

  All perceived that the Duke had drunk so much wine as to increase thenative obstinacy of his disposition; and though many would willinglyhave suggested that the present was neither a time for hearing news norfor taking counsel, yet all knew the impetuosity of his temper too wellto venture on farther interference, and sat in anxious expectation ofthe tidings which the Count might have to communicate.

  A brief interval intervened, during which the Duke remained lookingeagerly to the door, as if in a transport of impatience; whilst theguests sat with their eyes bent on the table, as if to conceal theircuriosity and
anxiety. Louis, alone maintaining perfect composure,continued his conversation alternately with the grand carver and withthe jester.

  At length Crevecoeur entered, and was presently saluted by thehurried question of his master, "What news from Liege and Brabant, SirCount?--the report of your arrival has chased mirth from our table--wehope your actual presence will bring it back to us."

  "My Liege and master," answered the Count in a firm but melancholy tone,"the news which I bring you are fitter for the council board than thefeasting table."

  "Out with them, man, if they were tidings from Antichrist!" said theDuke; "but I can guess them--the Liegeois are again in mutiny."

  "They are, my lord," said Crevecoeur very gravely.

  "Look there," said the Duke, "I have hit at once on what you had beenso much afraid to mention to me: the hare brained burghers are againin arms. It could not be in better time, for we may at present have theadvice of our own Suzerain," bowing to King Louis, with eyes which spokethe most bitter though suppressed resentment, "to teach us how suchmutineers should be dealt with.--Hast thou more news in thy packet?Out with them, and then answer for yourself why you went not forward toassist the Bishop."

  "My lord, the farther tidings are heavy for me to tell, and will beafflicting to you to hear.--No aid of mine, or of living chivalry, couldhave availed the excellent Prelate. William de la Marck, united with theinsurgent Liegeois, has taken his Castle of Schonwaldt, and murdered himin his own hall."

  "Murdered him!" repeated the Duke in a deep and low tone, whichnevertheless was heard from the one end of the hall in which they wereassembled to the other, "thou hast been imposed upon, Crevecoeur, bysome wild report--it is impossible!"

  "Alas! my lord!" said the Count, "I have it from an eyewitness, anarcher of the King of France's Scottish Guard, who was in the hall whenthe murder was committed by William de la Marck's order."

  "And who was doubtless aiding and abetting in the horrible sacrilege,"said the Duke, starting up and stamping with his foot with such furythat he dashed in pieces the footstool which was placed before him. "Barthe doors of this hall, gentlemen--secure the windows--let no strangerstir from his seat, upon pain of instant death!--Gentlemen of mychamber, draw your swords."

  And turning upon Louis, he advanced his own hand slowly and deliberatelyto the hilt of his weapon, while the King, without either showing fearor assuming a defensive posture, only said--"These news, fair cousin,have staggered your reason."

  "No!" replied the Duke, in a terrible tone, "but they have awakened ajust resentment, which I have too long suffered to be stifled bytrivial considerations of circumstance and place. Murderer ofthy brother!--rebel against thy parent--tyrant over thysubjects!--treacherous ally!--perjured King!--dishonouredgentleman!--thou art in my power, and I thank God for it."

  "Rather thank my folly," said the King; "for when we met on equal termsat Montl'hery, methinks you wished yourself farther from me than we arenow."

  The Duke still held his hand on the hilt of his sword, but refrainedto draw his weapon or to strike a foe who offered no sort of resistancewhich could in any wise provoke violence.

  Meanwhile, wild and general confusion spread itself through the hall.The doors were now fastened and guarded by order of the Duke; butseveral of the French nobles, few as they were in number, started fromtheir seats, and prepared for the defence of their Sovereign. Louis hadspoken not a word either to Orleans or Dunois since they wereliberated from restraint at the Castle of Loches, if it could be termedliberation, to be dragged in King Louis's train, objects of suspicionevidently, rather than of respect and regard; but, nevertheless, thevoice of Dunois was first heard above the tumult, addressing himself tothe Duke of Burgundy.

  "Sir Duke, you have forgotten that you are a vassal of France, and thatwe, your guests, are Frenchmen. If you lift a hand against our Monarch,prepare to sustain the utmost effects of our despair; for, credit me, weshall feast as high with the blood of Burgundy as we have done with itswine.--Courage, my Lord of Orleans--and you, gentlemen of France, formyourselves round Dunois, and do as he does."

  It was in that moment when a King might see upon what tempers he couldcertainly rely. The few independent nobles and knights who attendedLouis, most of whom had only received from him frowns or discountenance,unappalled by the display of infinitely superior force, and thecertainty of destruction in case they came to blows, hastened to arraythemselves around Dunois, and, led by him, to press towards the head ofthe table where the contending Princes were seated.

  On the contrary, the tools and agents whom Louis had dragged forward outof their fitting and natural places into importance which was not dueto them, showed cowardice and cold heart, and, remaining still in theirseats, seemed resolved not to provoke their fate by intermeddling,whatever might become of their benefactor.

  The first of the more generous party was the venerable Lord Crawford,who, with an agility which no one would have expected at his years,forced his way through all opposition (which was the less violent, asmany of the Burgundians, either from a point of honour, or a secretinclination to prevent Louis's impending fate, gave way to him), andthrew himself boldly between the King and the Duke. He then placed hisbonnet, from which his white hair escaped in dishevelled tresses, uponone side of his head--his pale cheek and withered brow coloured, and hisaged eye lightened with all the fire of a gallant who is about to daresome desperate action. His cloak was flung over one shoulder, and hisaction intimated his readiness to wrap it about his left arm, while heunsheathed his sword with his right.

  "I have fought for his father and his grandsire," that was all he said,"and by Saint Andrew, end the matter as it will, I will not fail him atthis pinch."

  What has taken some time to narrate, happened, in fact, with the speedof light; for so soon as the Duke assumed his threatening posture,Crawford had thrown himself betwixt him and the object of his vengeance;and the French gentlemen, drawing together as fast as they could, werecrowding to the same point.

  The Duke of Burgundy still remained with his hand on his sword, andseemed in the act of giving the signal for a general onset, whichmust necessarily have ended in the massacre of the weaker party, whenCrevecoeur rushed forward, and exclaimed in a voice like a trumpet, "Myliege Lord of Burgundy, beware what you do! This is your hall--you arethe King's vassal--do not spill the blood of your guest on your hearth,the blood of your Sovereign on the throne you have erected for him,and to which he came under your safeguard. For the sake of your house'shonour, do not attempt to revenge one horrid murder by another yetworse!"

  "Out of my road, Crevecoeur," answered the Duke, "and let my vengeancepass!--Out of my path! The wrath of kings is to be dreaded like that ofHeaven."

  "Only when, like that of Heaven, it is just," answered Crevecoeurfirmly. "Let me pray of you, my lord, to rein the violence of yourtemper, however justly offended.--And for you, my Lords of France, whereresistance is unavailing, let me recommend you to forbear whatever maylead towards bloodshed."

  "He is right," said Louis, whose coolness forsook him not in thatdreadful moment, and who easily foresaw that if a brawl should commence,more violence would be dared and done in the heat of blood than waslikely to be attempted if peace were preserved.

  "My cousin Orleans--kind Dunois--and you, my trusty Crawford--bring noton ruin and bloodshed by taking offence too hastily. Our cousin the Dukeis chafed at the tidings of the death of a near and loving friend,the venerable Bishop of Liege, whose slaughter we lament as he does.Ancient, and, unhappily, recent subjects of jealousy lead him to suspectus of having abetted a crime which our bosom abhors. Should our hostmurder us on this spot--us, his King and his kinsman, under a falseimpression of our being accessory to this unhappy accident, our fatewill be little lightened, but, on the contrary, greatly aggravated, byyour stirring.--Therefore stand back, Crawford.--Were it my last word, Ispeak as a King to his officer, and demand obedience.--Stand back, and,if it is required, yield up your sword. I command you to do so, and youroath ob
liges you to obey."

  "True, true, my lord," said Crawford, stepping back, and returning tothe sheath the blade he had half drawn.--"It may be all very true; but,by my honour, if I were at the head of threescore and ten of my bravefellows, instead of being loaded with more than the like number ofyears, I would try whether I could have some reason out of these finegallants, with their golden chains and looped up bonnets, with brawwarld dyes [gaudy colors] and devices on them."

  The Duke stood with his eyes fixed on the ground for a considerablespace, and then said, with bitter irony, "Crevecoeur, you say well;and it concerns our honour that our obligations to this great King, ourhonoured and loving guest, be not so hastily adjusted, as in our hastyanger we had at first proposed. We will so act that all Europe shallacknowledge the justice of our proceedings.--Gentlemen of France, youmust render up your arms to my officers! Your master has broken thetruce, and has no title to take farther benefit of it. In compassion,however, to your sentiments of honour, and in respect to the rank whichhe hath disgraced, and the race from which he hath degenerated, we asknot our cousin Louis's sword."

  "Not one of us," said Dunois, "will resign our weapon, or quit thishall, unless we are assured of at least our King's safety, in life andlimb."

  "Nor will a man of the Scottish Guard," exclaimed Crawford, "laydown his arms, save at the command of the King of France, or his HighConstable."

  "Brave Dunois," said Louis, "and you, my trusty Crawford, your zeal willdo me injury instead of benefit.--I trust," he added with dignity, "inmy rightful cause, more than in a vain resistance, which would butcost the lives of my best and bravest. Give up your swords.--The nobleBurgundians, who accept such honourable pledges, will be more able thanyou are to protect both you and me.--Give up your swords.--It is I whocommand you."

  It was thus that, in this dreadful emergency, Louis showed thepromptitude of decision and clearness of judgment which alone could havesaved his life. He was aware that, until actual blows were exchanged, heshould have the assistance of most of the nobles present to moderate thefury of their Prince; but that, were a melee once commenced, he himselfand his few adherents must be instantly murdered. At the same time, hisworst enemies confessed that his demeanour had in it nothing either ofmeanness or cowardice. He shunned to aggravate into frenzy the wrath ofthe Duke; but he neither deprecated nor seemed to fear it, and continuedto look on him with the calm and fixed attention with which a brave maneyes the menacing gestures of a lunatic, whilst conscious that his ownsteadiness and composure operate as an insensible and powerful check onthe rage even of insanity.

  Crawford, at the King's command, threw his sword to Crevecoeur, saying,"Take it! and the devil give you joy of it.--It is no dishonour to therightful owner who yields it, for we have had no fair play."

  "Hold, gentlemen," said the Duke in a broken voice, as one whom passionhad almost deprived of utterance, "retain your swords; it is sufficientyou promise not to use them. And you, Louis of Valois, must regardyourself as my prisoner, until you are cleared of having abettedsacrilege and murder. Have him to the Castle.--Have him to EarlHerbert's Tower. Let him have six gentlemen of his train to attend him,such as he shall choose.--My Lord of Crawford, your guard must leavethe Castle, and shall be honourably quartered elsewhere. Up with everydrawbridge, and down with every portcullis.--Let the gates of the townbe trebly guarded.--Draw the floating bridge to the right hand side ofthe river.--Bring round the Castle my band of Black Walloons [regimentsof Dutch troops, wearing black armour], and treble the sentinels onevery post!--You, D'Hymbercourt, look that patrols of horse and footmake the round of the town every half hour during the night and everyhour during the next day--if indeed such ward shall be necessary afterdaybreak, for it is like we may be sudden in this matter.--Look to theperson of Louis, as you love your life."

  He started from the table in fierce and moody haste, darted a glance ofmortal enmity at the King, and rushed out of the apartment.

  "Sirs," said the King, looking with dignity around him, "grief for thedeath of his ally hath made your Prince frantic. I trust you know betteryour duty, as knights and noblemen, than to abet him in his treasonableviolence against the person of his liege Lord."

  At this moment was heard in the streets the sound of drums beating, andhorns blowing, to call out the soldiery in every direction.

  "We are," said Crevecoeur, who acted as the Marshal of the Duke'shousehold, "subjects of Burgundy, and must do our duty as such. Ourhopes and prayers, and our efforts, will not be wanting to bring aboutpeace and union between your Majesty and our liege Lord. Meantime, wemust obey his commands. These other lords and knights will be proud tocontribute to the convenience of the illustrious Duke of Orleans, ofthe brave Dunois, and the stout Lord Crawford. I myself must be yourMajesty's chamberlain, and bring you to your apartments in other guisethan would be my desire, remembering the hospitality of Plessis. Youhave only to choose your attendants, whom the Duke's commands limit tosix."

  "Then," said the King, looking around him, and thinking for a moment--"Idesire the attendance of Oliver le Dain, of a private of my Life Guardcalled Balafre, who may be unarmed if you will--of Tristan l'Hermite,with two of his people--and my right royal and trusty philosopher,Martius Galeotti."

  "Your Majesty's will shall be complied with in all points," said theCount de Crevecoeur. "Galeotti," he added, after a moment's inquiry,"is, I understand, at present supping in some buxom company, but heshall instantly be sent for; the others will obey your Majesty's commandupon the instant."

  "Forward, then, to the new abode, which the hospitality of our cousinprovides for us," said the King. "We know it is strong, and have only tohope it may be in a corresponding degree safe."

  "Heard you the choice which King Louis has made of his attendants?" saidLe Glorieux to Count Crevecoeur apart, as they followed Louis from thehall.

  "Surely, my merry gossip," replied the Count. "What hast thou to objectto them?"

  "Nothing, nothing--only they are a rare election!--A panderly barber--aScottish hired cutthroat--a chief hangman and his two assistants, anda thieving charlatan.--I will along with you, Crevecoeur, and takea lesson in the degrees of roguery, from observing your skill inmarshalling them. The devil himself could scarce have summoned such asynod, or have been a better president amongst them."

  Accordingly, the all licensed jester, seizing the Count's armfamiliarly, began to march along with him, while, under a strong guard,yet forgetting no semblance of respect, he conducted the King towardshis new apartment.

  [The historical facts attending this celebrated interview are expoundedand enlarged upon in this chapter. Agents sent by Louis had temptedthe people of Liege to rebel against their superior, Duke Charles, andpersecute and murder their Bishop. But Louis was not prepared for theiracting with such promptitude. They flew to arms with the temerity of afickle rabble, took the Bishop prisoner, menaced and insulted him, andtore to pieces one or two of his canons. This news was sent to the Dukeof Burgundy at the moment when Louis had so unguardedly placed himselfin his power; and the consequence was that Charles placed guards on theCastle of Peronne, and, deeply resenting the treachery of the king ofFrance in exciting sedition in his dominions, while he pretended themost intimate friendship, he deliberated whether he should not putLouis to death. Three days Louis was detained in this very precarioussituation, and it was only his profuse liberality amongst Charles'sfavourites and courtiers which finally ensured him from death ordeposition. Comines, who was the Duke of Burgundy's chamberlain at thetime, and slept in his apartment, says Charles neither undressed norslept, but flung himself from time to time on the bed, and, at othertimes, wildly traversed the apartment. It was long before his violenttemper became in any degree tractable. At length he only agreed togive Louis his liberty, on condition of his accompanying him in personagainst, and employing his troops in subduing, the mutineers whomhis intrigues had instigated to arms. This was a bitter and degradingalternative. But Louis, seeing no other mode of compounding for theeffe
cts of his rashness, not only submitted to this discreditablecondition, but swore to it upon a crucifix said to have belonged toCharlemagne. These particulars are from Comines. There is a succinctepitome of them in Sir Nathaniel Wraxall's History of France, vol.i.--S.]