CHAPTER XXXIII.
AT MEUDON.
Making so early a start from Etampes that the inn, which had continuedin an uproar till long after midnight, lay sunk in sleep when we rodeout of the yard, we reached Meudon about noon next day. I should betedious were I to detail what thoughts my mistress and I had duringthat day's journey--the last, it might be, which we should taketogether; or what assurances we gave one another, or how often werepented the impatience which had impelled us to put all to the touch.Madame, with kindly forethought, detached herself from us, and rodethe greater part of the distance with Fanchette; but the opportunitiesshe gave us went for little; for, to be plain, the separation wedreaded seemed to overshadow us already. We uttered few words, thoughthose few were to the purpose, but riding hand-in-hand, with fullhearts, and eyes which seldom quitted one another, looked forward toMeudon and its perils with such gloomy forebodings as our love and myprecarious position suggested.
Long before we reached the town, or could see more of it thanthe Chateau, over which the Lilies of France and the broad whitebanner of the Bourbons floated in company, we found ourselves sweptinto the whirlpool which surrounds an army. Crowds stood at all thecross-roads, wagons and sumpter-mules encumbered the bridges; eachmoment a horseman passed us at a gallop, or a troop of disorderlyrogues, soldiers only in name, reeled, shouting and singing, along theroad. Here and there, for a warning to the latter sort, a man dangledon a rude gallows; under which sportsmen returning from the chase andladies who had been for an airing rode laughing on their way.
Amid the multitude entering the town we passed unnoticed. A little waywithin the walls we halted to inquire where the Princess of Navarrehad her lodging. Hearing that she occupied a house in the town, whileher brother had his quarters in the Chateau, and the King of France atSt. Cloud, I stayed my party in a by-road, a hundred paces farther on,and, springing from the Cid, went to my mistress's knee.
'Mademoiselle,' I said formally, and so loudly that all my men mighthear, 'the time is come. I dare not go farther with you. I beg you,therefore, to bear me witness that as I took you so I have brought youback, and both with your good-will. I beg that you will give me thisquittance, for it may serve me.'
She bowed her head and laid her ungloved hand on mine, which I hadplaced on the pommel of her saddle. 'Sir,' she answered in a brokenvoice, 'I will not give you this quittance, nor any quittance from mewhile I live.' With that she took off her mask before them all, and Isaw the tears running down her white face. 'May God protect you, M. deMarsac,' she continued, stooping until her face almost touched mine,'and bring you to the thing you desire. If not, sir, and you pay toodearly for what you have done for me, I will live a maiden all mydays. And, if I do not, these men may shame me!'
My heart was too full for words, but I took the glove she held out tome, and kissed her hand with my knee bent. Then I waved--for I couldnot speak--to madame to proceed; and with Simon Fleix and Maignan'smen to guard them they went on their way. Mademoiselle's white facelooked back to me until a bend in the road hid them, and I saw them nomore.
I turned when all were gone, and going heavily to where my Sardstood with his head drooping, I climbed to the saddle, and rode at afoot-pace towards the Chateau. The way was short and easy, for thenext turning showed me the open gateway and a crowd about it. A vastnumber of people were entering and leaving, while others rested in theshade of the wall, and a dozen grooms led horses up and down. Thesunshine fell hotly on the road and the courtyard, and flashed back bythe cuirasses of the men on guard, seized the eye and dazzled it withgleams of infinite brightness. I was advancing alone, gazing at allthis with a species of dull indifference which masked for the momentthe suspense I felt at heart, when a man, coming on foot along thestreet, crossed quickly to me and looked me in the face.
I returned his look, and seeing he was a stranger to me, was forpassing on without pausing. But he wheeled beside me and uttered myname in a low voice.
I checked the Cid and looked down at him. 'Yes,' I said mechanically,'I am M. de Marsac. But I do not know you.'
'Nevertheless I have been watching for you for three days,' hereplied. 'M. de Rosny received your message. This is for you.'
He handed me a scrap of paper. 'From whom?' I asked.
'Maignan,' he answered briefly. And with that, and a stealthy lookround, he left me, and went the way he had been going before.
I tore open the note, and knowing that Maignan could not write, wasnot surprised to find that it lacked any signature. The brevity of itscontents vied with the curtness of its bearer. 'In Heaven's name goback and wait,' it ran. 'Your enemy is here, and those who wish youwell are powerless.'
A warning so explicit, and delivered under such circumstances, mighthave been expected to make me pause even then. But I read the messagewith the same dull indifference, the same dogged resolve with whichthe sight of the crowded gateway before me had inspired me. I had notcome so far and baffled Turenne by an hour to fail in my purpose atthe last; nor given such pledges to another to prove false to myself.Moreover, the distant rattle of musketry, which went to show that askirmish was taking place on the farther side of the Castle, seemed aninvitation to me to proceed; for now, if ever, my sword might earnprotection and a pardon. Only in regard to M. de Rosny, from whom Ihad no doubt that the message came, I resolved to act with prudence;neither making any appeal to him in public nor mentioning his name toothers in private.
The Cid had borne me by this time into the middle of the throng aboutthe gateway, who, wondering to see a stranger of my appearance arrivewithout attendants, eyed me with a mixture of civility andforwardness. I recognised more than one man whom I had seen about theCourt at St. Jean d'Angely six months before; but so great is thedisguising power of handsome clothes and equipments that none of theseknew me. I beckoned to the nearest, and asked him if the King ofNavarre was in the Chateau.
'He has gone to see the King of France at St. Cloud,' the mananswered, with something of wonder that anyone should be ignorant ofso important a fact. 'He is expected here in an hour.'
I thanked him, and calculating that I should still have time and tospare before the arrival of M. de Turenne, I dismounted, and takingthe rein over my arm, began to walk up and down in the shade of thewall. Meanwhile the loiterers increased in numbers as the minutespassed. Men of better standing rode up, and, leaving their horses incharge of their lackeys, went into the Chateau. Officers in shiningcorslets, or with boots and scabbards dulled with dust, arrived andclattered in through the gates. A messenger galloped up with letters,and was instantly surrounded by a curious throng of questioners; wholeft him only to gather about the next comers, a knot of townsfolk,whose downcast visages and glances of apprehension seemed to betokenno pleasant or easy mission.
Watching many of these enter and disappear, while only the humblersort remained to swell the crowd at the gate, I began to experiencethe discomfort and impatience which are the lot of the man who findshimself placed in a false position. I foresaw with clearness theinjury I was about to do my cause by presenting myself to the kingamong the common herd; and yet I had no choice save to do this, for Idared not run the risk of entering, lest I should be required to givemy name, and fail to see the King of Navarre at all.
As it was I came very near to being foiled in this way; for Ipresently recognised, and was recognised in turn, by a gentleman whorode up to the gates and, throwing his reins to a groom, dismountedwith an air of immense gravity. This was M. Forget, the king'ssecretary, and the person to whom I had on a former occasion presenteda petition. He looked at me with eyes of profound astonishment, andsaluting me stiffly from a distance, seemed in two minds whether heshould pass in or speak to me. On second thoughts, however, he cametowards me, and again saluted me with a peculiarly dry and austereaspect.
'I believe, sir, I am speaking to M. de Marsac?' he said in a lowvoice, but not impolitely.
I replied in the affirmative.
> 'And that, I conclude, is your horse?' he continued, raising his cane,and pointing to the Cid, which I had fastened to a hook in the wall.
I replied again in the affirmative.
'Then take a word of advice,' he answered, screwing up his features,and speaking in a dry sort of way. 'Get upon its back without aninstant's delay, and put as many leagues between yourself and Meudonas horse and man may.'
'I am obliged to you,' I said, though I was greatly startled by hiswords. 'And what if I do not take your advice?'
He shrugged his shoulders. 'In that case look to yourself!' heretorted. 'But you will look in vain!'
He turned on his heel as he spoke, and in a moment was gone. I watchedhim enter the Chateau, and in the uncertainty which possessed mewhether he was not gone--after salving his conscience by giving mewarning--to order my instant arrest, I felt, and I doubt not I looked,as ill at ease for the time being as the group of trembling townsfolkwho stood near me. Reflecting that he should know his master's mind, Irecalled with depressing clearness the repeated warnings the King ofNavarre had given me that I must not look to him for reward orprotection. I bethought me that I was here against his express orders:presuming on those very services which he had given me notice heshould repudiate. I remembered that Rosny had always been in the sametale. And in fine I began to see that mademoiselle and I had togetherdecided on a step which I should never have presumed to take on my ownmotion.
I had barely arrived at this conclusion when the trampling of hoofsand a sudden closing in of the crowd round the gate announced the Kingof Navarre's approach. With a sick heart I drew nearer, feeling thatthe crisis was at hand; and in a moment he came in sight, ridingbeside an elderly man, plainly dressed and mounted, with whom he wascarrying on an earnest conversation. A train of nobles and gentlemen,whose martial air and equipments made up for the absence of thegewgaws and glitter, to which my eyes had become accustomed at Blois,followed close on his heels. Henry himself wore a suit of whitevelvet, frayed in places and soiled by his armour; but his quick eyeand eager, almost fierce, countenance could not fail to win and keepthe attention of the least observant. He kept glancing from side toside as he came on; and that with so cheerful an air and a carriage sofull at once of dignity and good-humour that no one could look on himand fail to see that here was a leader and a prince of men, temperatein victory and unsurpassed in defeat.
The crowd raising a cry of '_Vive Navarre!_' as he drew near, hebowed, with a sparkle in his eye. But when a few by the gate cried'_Vivent les Rois!_' he held up his hand for silence, and said in aloud, clear voice, 'Not that, my friends. There is but one king inFrance. Let us say instead, "Vive le Roi!"'
The spokesman of the little group of townsfolk, who, I learned, werefrom Arcueil, and had come to complain of the excessive number oftroops quartered upon them, took advantage of the pause to approachhim. Henry received the old man with a kindly look, and bent from hissaddle to hear what he had to say. While they were talking I pressedforward, the emotion I felt on my own account heightened by myrecognition of the man who rode by the King of Navarre--who was noother than M. de la Nouee. No Huguenot worthy of the name could look onthe veteran who had done and suffered more for the cause than anyliving man without catching something of his stern enthusiasm; and thesight, while it shamed me, who a moment before had been inclined toprefer my safety to the assistance I owed my country, gave me courageto step to the king's rein, so that I heard his last words to the menof Arcueil.
'Patience, my friends,' he said kindly. 'The burden is heavy, but thejourney is a short one. The Seine is ours; the circle is complete. Ina week Paris must surrender. The king, my cousin, will enter, and youwill be rid of us. For France's sake one week, my friends.'
The men fell back with low obeisances, charmed by his good-nature, andHenry, looking up, saw me before him. On the instant his jaw fell. Hisbrow, suddenly contracting above eyes, which flashed with surprise anddispleasure, altered in a moment the whole aspect of his face; whichgrew dark and stern as night. His first impulse was to pass by me; butseeing that I held my ground, he hesitated, so completely chagrined bymy appearance that he did not know how to act, or in what way to dealwith me. I seized the occasion, and bending my knee with as muchrespect as I had ever used to the King of France, begged to bringmyself to his notice, and to crave his protection and favour.
'This is no time to trouble me, sir,' he retorted, eyeing me with anangry side-glance. 'I do not know you. You are unknown to me, sir. Youmust go to M. de Rosny.'
'It would be useless sire,' I answered, in desperate persistence.
'Then I can do nothing for you,' he rejoined peevishly. 'Stand on oneside, sir.'
But I was desperate. I knew that I had risked all on the event, andmust establish my footing before M. de Turenne's return, or run therisk of certain recognition and vengeance. I cried out, caring nothingwho heard, that I was M. de Marsac, that I had come back to meetwhatever my enemies could allege against me.
'_Ventre Saint Gris!_' Henry exclaimed, starting in his saddle withwell-feigned surprise. 'Are you that man?'
'I am, sire,' I answered.
'Then you must be mad!' he retorted, appealing to those behind him.'Stark, staring mad to show your face here! _Ventre Saint Gris!_ Arewe to have all the ravishers and plunderers in the country come tous?'
'I am neither the one nor the other!' I answered, looking withindignation from him to the gaping train behind him.
'That you will have to settle with M. de Turenne!' he retorted,frowning down at me with his whole face turned gloomy and fierce. 'Iknow you well, sir, now. Complaint has been made that you abducted alady from his Castle of Chize some time back.'
'The lady, sire, is now in charge of the Princess of Navarre.'
'She is?' he exclaimed, quite taken aback.
'And if she has aught of complaint against me,' I continued withpride, 'I will submit to whatever punishment you order or M. deTurenne demands. But if she has no complaint to make, and vows thatshe accompanied me of her own free-will and accord, and has sufferedneither wrong nor displeasure at my hands, then, sire, I claim thatthis is a private matter between myself and M. de Turenne.'
'Even so I think you will have your hands full,' he answered grimly.At the same time he stopped by a gesture those who would have criedout upon me, and looked at me himself with an altered countenance. 'DoI understand that you assert that the lady went of her own accord?' heasked.
'She went and has returned, sire,' I answered.
'Strange!' he ejaculated. 'Have you married her?'
'No, sire,' I answered. 'I desire leave to do so.'
'Mon dieu! she is M. de Turenne's ward,' he rejoined, almostdumbfounded by my audacity.
'I do not despair of obtaining his assent, sire,' I said patiently.
'_Saint Gris!_ the man is mad!' he cried, wheeling his horse andfacing his train with a gesture of the utmost wonder. 'It is thestrangest story I ever heard.'
'But somewhat more to the gentleman's credit than the lady's!' onesaid with a smirk and a smile.
'A lie!' I cried, springing forward on the instant with a boldnesswhich astonished myself. 'She is as pure as your Highness's sister! Iswear it. That man lies in his teeth, and I will maintain it.'
'Sir!' the King of Navarre cried, turning on me with the utmoststernness, 'you forget yourself in my presence! Silence, and bewareanother time how you let your tongue run on those above you. You haveenough trouble, let me tell you, on your hands already.'
'Yet the man lies!' I answered doggedly, remembering Crillon and hisways. 'And if he will do me the honour of stepping aside with me, Iwill convince him of it!'
'_Venire Saint Gris!_' Henry replied, frowning, and dwelling on eachsyllable of his favourite oath. 'Will you be silent, sir, and let methink? Or must I order your instant arrest?'
'Surely that at least, sire,' a suave voice interjected. And with thata gentleman pressed forward from the rest, and gaining a place of'vantage by the King's side, shot at me
a look of extreme malevolence.'My lord of Turenne will expect no less at your Highness's hands,' hecontinued warmly. 'I beg you will give the order on the spot, and holdthis person to answer for his misdeeds. M. de Turenne returns to-day.He should be here now. I say again, sire, he will expect no less thanthis.'
The king, gazing at me with gloomy eyes, tugged at his moustaches.Someone had motioned the common herd to stand back out of hearing; atthe same time the suite had moved up out of curiosity and formed ahalf-circle; in the midst of which I stood fronting the king, who hadLa Nouee and the last speaker on either hand. Perplexity and annoyancestruggled for the mastery in his face as he looked darkly down at me,his teeth showing through his beard. Profoundly angered by myappearance, which he had taken at first to be the prelude todisclosures which must detach Turenne at a time when union wasall-important, he had now ceased to fear for himself; and perhaps sawsomething in the attitude I adopted which appealed to his nature andsympathies.
'If the girl is really back,' he said at last, 'M. d'Aremburg, I donot see any reason why I should interfere. At present, at any rate.
'I think, sire, M. de Turenne will see reason,' the gentleman answereddrily.
The king coloured. 'M. de Turenne,' he began,
'Has made many sacrifices at your request, sire,' the other said withmeaning. 'And buried some wrongs, or fancied wrongs, in connectionwith this very matter. This person has outraged him in the grossestmanner, and in M. le Vicomte's name I ask, nay I press upon you, thathe be instantly arrested, and held to answer for it.'
'I am ready to answer for it now!' I retorted, looking from face toface for sympathy, and finding none save in M. de la Nouee's, whoappeared to regard me with grave approbation. 'To the Vicomte deTurenne, or the person he may appoint to represent him.'
'Enough!' Henry said, raising his hand and speaking in the tone ofauthority he knew so well how to adopt. 'For you, M. d'Aremburg, Ithank you. Turenne is happy in his friend. But this gentleman came tome of his own free will and I do not think it consistent with myhonour to detain him without warning given. I grant him an hour toremove himself from my neighbourhood. If he be found after that timehas elapsed,' he continued solemnly, 'his fate be on his own head.Gentlemen, we are late already. Let us on.'
I looked at him as he pronounced this sentence, and strove to findwords in which to make a final appeal to him. But no words came; andwhen he bade me stand aside, I did so mechanically, remaining with myhead bared to the sunshine while the troop rode by. Some looked backat me with curiosity, as at a man of whom they had heard a tale, andsome with a jeer on their lips; a few with dark looks of menace. Whenthey were all gone, and the servants who followed them had disappearedalso, and I was left to the inquisitive glances of the rabble whostood gaping after the sight, I turned and went to the Cid, and loosedthe horse with a feeling of bitter disappointment.
The plan which mademoiselle had proposed and I had adopted in theforest by St. Gaultier--when it seemed to us that our long absence andthe great events of which we heard must have changed the world andopened a path for our return--had failed utterly. Things were as theyhad been; the strong were still strong, and friendship under bond tofear. Plainly we should have shewn ourselves wiser had we taken thelowlier course, and, obeying the warnings given us, waited the King ofNavarre's pleasure or the tardy recollection of Rosny. I had not thenstood, as I now stood, in instant jeopardy, nor felt the keen, pangsof a separation which bade fair to be lasting. She was safe, and thatwas much; but I, after long service and brief happiness, must go outagain alone, with only memories to comfort me.
It was Simon Fleix's voice which awakened me from this unworthylethargy--as selfish as it was useless--and, recalling me to myself,reminded me that precious time was passing while I stood inactive. Toget at me he had forced his way through the curious crowd, and hisface was flushed. He plucked me by the sleeve, regarding the varletsround him with a mixture of anger and fear.
'Nom de Dieu! do they take you for a rope-dancer?' he muttered in myear. 'Mount, sir, and come. There is not a moment to be lost.'
'You left her at Madame Catherine's?' I said.
'To be sure,' he answered impatiently. 'Trouble not about her. Saveyourself, M. de Marsac. That is the thing to be done now.'
I mounted mechanically, and felt my courage return as the horse movedunder me. I trotted through the crowd, and without thought took theroad by which we had come. When we had ridden a hundred yards,however, I pulled up. 'An hour is a short start,' I said sullenly.'Whither?'
'To St. Cloud,' he answered promptly. 'The protection of the King ofFrance may avail for a day or two. After that, there will still be theLeague, if Paris have not fallen.'
I saw there was nothing else for it, and assented, and we set off. Thedistance which separates Meudon from St. Cloud we might have riddenunder the hour, but the direct road runs across the Scholars' Meadow,a wide plain north of Meudon. This lay exposed to the enemy's fire,and was, besides, the scene of hourly conflicts between the horse ofboth parties, so that to cross it without an adequate force wasimpossible. Driven to make a circuit, we took longer to reach ourdestination, yet did so without mishap; finding the little town, whenwe came in sight of it, given up to all the bustle and commotion whichproperly belong to the Court and camp.
It was, indeed, as full as it could be, for the surrender of Parisbeing momentarily expected, St. Cloud had become the rendezvous aswell of the few who had long followed a principle as of the many whowait upon success. The streets, crowded in every part, shone withglancing colours, with steel and velvet, the garb of fashion and theplumes of war. Long lines of flags obscured the eaves and broke thesunshine, while, above all, the bells of half a dozen churches rangmerry answer to the distant crash of guns. Everywhere on flag and archand streamer I read the motto, 'Vive le Roi!'--words written, God knewthen, and we know now, in what a mockery of doom!
Historical Romances: Under the Red Robe, Count Hannibal, A Gentleman of France Page 85
