by Walter Scott
CHAPTER XIII.
Want you a man Experienced in the world and its affairs? Here he is for your purpose.--He's a monk. He hath forsworn the world and all its work-- The rather that he knows it passing well, Special the worst of it, for he's a monk. _Old Play._
While the dawn of the morning was yet grey, Arthur was awakened by aloud ringing at the gate of the monastery, and presently afterwardsthe porter entered the cell which had been allotted to him for hislodgings, to tell him that, if his name was Arthur Philipson, abrother of their order had brought him despatches from his father. Theyouth started up, hastily attired himself, and was introduced, in theparlour, to a Carmelite monk, being of the same order with thecommunity of St. Victoire.
"I have ridden many a mile, young man, to present you with thisletter," said the monk, "having undertaken to your father that itshould be delivered without delay. I came to Aix last night during thestorm, and, learning at the palace that you had ridden hither, Imounted as soon as the tempest abated, and here I am."
"I am beholden to you, father," said the youth, "and if I could repayyour pains with a small donative to your convent"----
"By no means," answered the good father; "I took my personal troubleout of friendship to your father, and mine own errand led me this way.The expenses of my long journey have been amply provided for. But openyour packet, I can answer your questions at leisure."
The young man accordingly stepped into an embrasure of the window, andread as follows:--
"SON ARTHUR,--Touching the state of the country, in so far as concerns the safety of travelling, know that the same is precarious. The Duke hath taken the towns of Brie and Granson, and put to death five hundred men, whom he made prisoners in garrison there. But the Confederates are approaching with a large force, and God will judge for the right. Howsoever the game may go, these are sharp wars, in which little quarter is spoken of on either side, and therefore there is no safety for men of our profession, till something decisive shall happen. In the meantime, you may assure the widowed lady, that our correspondent continues well disposed to purchase the property which she has in hand; but will scarce be able to pay the price till his present pressing affairs shall be settled, which I hope will be in time to permit us to embark the funds in the profitable adventure I told our friend of. I have employed a friar, travelling to Provence, to carry this letter, which I trust will come safe. The bearer may be trusted.
"Your affectionate father, "JOHN PHILIPSON."
Arthur easily comprehended the latter part of the epistle, andrejoiced he had received it at so critical a moment. He questioned theCarmelite on the amount of the Duke's army, which the monk stated toamount to sixty thousand men, while he said the Confederates, thoughmaking every exertion, had not yet been able to assemble the thirdpart of that number. The young Ferrand de Vaudemont was with theirarmy, and had received, it was thought, some secret assistance fromFrance; but as he was little known in arms, and had few followers, theempty title of General which he bore added little to the strength ofthe Confederates. Upon the whole, he reported that every chanceappeared to be in favour of Charles, and Arthur, who looked upon hissuccess as presenting the only chance in favour of his father'senterprise, was not a little pleased to find it insured, as far asdepended on a great superiority of force. He had no leisure to makefurther inquiries, for the Queen at that moment entered the apartment,and the Carmelite, learning her quality, withdrew from her presence indeep reverence.
The paleness of her complexion still bespoke the fatigues of the daypreceding; but, as she graciously bestowed on Arthur the greetings ofthe morning, her voice was firm, her eye clear, and her countenancesteady. "I meet you," she said, "not as I left you, but determined inmy purpose. I am satisfied that if Rene does not voluntarily yield uphis throne of Provence by some step like that which we propose, hewill be hurled from it by violence, in which, it may be, his life willnot be spared. We will, therefore, to work with all speed--the worstis, that I cannot leave this convent till I have made the necessarypenances for having visited the Garagoule, without performing which Iwere no Christian woman. When you return to Aix, inquire at the palacefor my secretary, with whom this line will give you credence. I have,even before this door of hope opened to me, endeavoured to form anestimate of King Rene's situation, and collected the documents forthat purpose. Tell him to send me, duly sealed, and under fittingcharge, the small cabinet hooped with silver. Hours of penance forpast errors may be employed to prevent others; and from the contentsof that cabinet I shall learn whether I am, in this weighty matter,sacrificing my father's interests to my own half-desperate hopes. Butof this I have little or no doubt. I can cause the deeds ofresignation and transference to be drawn up here under my owndirection, and arrange the execution of them when I return to Aix,which shall be the first moment after my penance is concluded."
"And this letter, gracious madam," said Arthur, "will inform you whatevents are approaching, and of what importance it may be to take timeby the forelock. Place me but in possession of these momentous deeds,and I will travel night and day till I reach the Duke's camp. I shallfind him most likely in the moment of victory, and with his heart toomuch open to refuse a boon to the royal kinswoman who is surrenderingto him all. We will--we must--in such an hour, obtain princelysuccours; and we shall soon see if the licentious Edward of York, thesavage Richard, the treacherous and perjured Clarence, are hereafterto be lords of merry England, or whether they must give place to amore rightful sovereign and better man. But oh! royal madam, alldepends on haste."
"True--yet a few days may--nay, must--cast the die between Charles andhis opponents; and, ere making so great a surrender, it were as wellto be assured that he whom we would propitiate is in capacity toassist us. All the events of a tragic and varied life have led me tosee there is no such thing as an inconsiderable enemy. I will makehaste, however, trusting in the interim we may have good news from thebanks of the lake at Neufchatel."
"But who shall be employed to draw these most important deeds?" saidthe young man.
Margaret mused ere she replied,--"The Father Guardian is complaisant,and I think faithful; but I would not willingly repose confidence inone of the Provencal monks. Stay, let me think--your father says theCarmelite who brought the letter may be trusted--he shall do the turn.He is a stranger, and will be silent for a piece of money. Farewell,Arthur de Vere.--You will be treated with all hospitality by myfather. If thou dost receive further tidings, thou wilt let me knowthem; or, should I have instructions to send, thou wilt hear fromme.--So, benedicite."
Arthur proceeded to wind down the mountain at a much quicker pace thanhe had ascended on the day before. The weather was now gloriouslyserene, and the beauties of vegetation, in a country where it nevertotally slumbers, were at once delicious and refreshing. His thoughtswandered from the crags of Mont St. Victoire to the cliff of thecanton of Unterwalden, and fancy recalled the moments when his walksthrough such scenery were not solitary, but when there was a form byhis side whose simple beauty was engraved on his memory. Such thoughtswere of a preoccupying nature; and I grieve to say that they entirelydrowned the recollection of the mysterious caution given him by hisfather, intimating that Arthur might not be able to comprehend suchletters as he should receive from him, till they were warmed before afire.
The first thing which reminded him of this singular caution was theseeing a chafing-dish of charcoal in the kitchen of the hostelry atthe bottom of the mountain, where he found Thiebault and his horses.This was the first fire which he had seen since receiving his father'sletter, and it reminded him not unnaturally of what the Earl hadrecommended. Great was his surprise to see that, after exposing thepaper to the fire as if to dry it, a word emerged in an importantpassage of the letter, and the concluding words now read,--"The bearermay _not_ be trusted." Well-nigh choked with shame a
nd vexation,Arthur could think of no other remedy than instantly to return to theconvent, and acquaint the Queen with this discovery, which he hopedstill to convey to her in time to prevent any risk being incurred bythe Carmelite's treachery.
Incensed at himself, and eager to redeem his fault, he bent his manlybreast against the steep hill, which was probably never scaled in soshort time as by the young heir of De Vere; for, within forty minutesfrom his commencing the ascent, he stood breathless and panting in thepresence of Queen Margaret, who was alike surprised at his appearanceand his exhausted condition.
"Trust not the Carmelite!" he exclaimed--"You are betrayed, nobleQueen, and it is by my negligence. Here is my dagger--bid me strike itinto my heart!"
Margaret demanded and obtained a more special explanation, and when itwas given she said, "It is an unhappy chance; but your father'sinstructions ought to have been more distinct. I have told yonderCarmelite the purpose of the contracts, and engaged with him to drawthem. He has but now left me to serve at the choir. There is nowithdrawing the confidence I have unhappily placed; but I can easilyprevail with the Father Guardian to prevent the monk from leaving theconvent till we are indifferent to his secrecy. It is our best chanceto secure it, and we will take care that what inconvenience hesustains by his detention shall be well recompensed. Meanwhile, restthou, good Arthur, and undo the throat of thy mantle. Poor youth, thouart well-nigh exhausted with thy haste."
Arthur obeyed, and sat down on a seat in the parlour; for the speedwhich he had exerted rendered him almost incapable of standing.
"If I could but see," he said, "the false monk, I would find a way tocharm him to secrecy!"
"Better leave him to me," said the Queen; "and, in a word, I forbidyou to meddle with him. The coif can treat better with the cowl thanthe casque can do. Say no more of him. I joy to see you wear aroundyour neck the holy relic I bestowed on you;--but what Moorish charmletis that you wear beside it? Alas! I need not ask. Your heightenedcolour, almost as deep as when you entered a quarter of an hour hence,confesses a true-love token. Alas! poor boy, hast thou not only such ashare of thy country's woes to bear, but also thine own load ofaffliction, not the less poignant now that future time will show theehow fantastic it is! Margaret of Anjou could once have aided whereverthy affections were placed; but now she can only contribute to themisery of her friends, not to their happiness. But this lady of thecharm, Arthur, is she fair--is she wise and virtuous--is she of noblebirth--and does she love?"--She perused his countenance with theglance of an eagle, and continued, "To all, thou wouldst answer Yes,if shamefacedness permitted thee. Love her then in turn, my gallantboy, for love is the parent of brave actions. Go, my nobleyouth--high-born and loyal, valorous and virtuous, enamoured andyouthful, to what mayst thou not rise? The chivalry of ancient Europeonly lives in a bosom like thine. Go, and let the praises of a Queenfire thy bosom with the love of honour and achievement. In three dayswe meet at Aix."
Arthur, highly gratified with the Queen's condescension, once moreleft her presence.
Returning down the mountain with a speed very different from thatwhich he had used in the ascent, he again found his Provencal squire,who had remained in much surprise at witnessing the confusion in whichhis master had left the inn, almost immediately after he had enteredit without any apparent haste or agitation. Arthur explained his hastyreturn by alleging he had forgot his purse at the convent. "Nay, inthat case," said Thiebault, "considering what you left and where youleft it, I do not wonder at your speed, though, Our Lady save me, as Inever saw living creature, save a goat with a wolf at his heels, makehis way over crag and briers with half such rapidity as you did."
They reached Aix after about an hour's riding, and Arthur lost no timein waiting upon the good King Rene, who gave him a kind reception,both in respect of the letter from the Duke of Burgundy, and inconsideration of his being an Englishman, the avowed subject of theunfortunate Margaret. The placable monarch soon forgave his youngguest the want of complaisance with which he had eschewed to listen tohis compositions; and Arthur speedily found that to apologise for hiswant of breeding in that particular was likely to lead to a great dealmore rehearsing than he could find patience to tolerate. He could onlyavoid the old King's extreme desire to recite his own poems, andperform his own music, by engaging him in speaking of his daughterMargaret. Arthur had been sometimes induced to doubt the influencewhich the Queen boasted herself to possess over her aged father; but,on being acquainted with him personally, he became convinced that herpowerful understanding and violent passions inspired the feeble-mindedand passive King with a mixture of pride, affection, and fear, whichunited to give her the most ample authority over him.
Although she had parted with him but a day or two since, and in amanner so ungracious on her side, Rene was as much overjoyed athearing of the probability of her speedy return, as the fondest fathercould have been at the prospect of being reunited to the most dutifulchild, whom he had not seen for years. The old King was impatient as aboy for the day of her arrival, and, still strangely unenlightened onthe difference of her taste from his own, he was with difficultyinduced to lay aside a project of meeting her in the character of oldPalemon,--
The prince of shepherds, and their pride,
at the head of an Arcadian procession of nymphs and swains, to inspirewhose choral dances and songs every pipe and tambourine in the countrywas to be placed in requisition. Even the old seneschal, however,intimated his disapprobation of this species of _joyeuse entree_; sothat Rene suffered himself at length to be persuaded that the Queenwas too much occupied by the religious impressions to which she hadbeen of late exposed, to receive any agreeable sensation from sightsor sounds of levity. The King gave way to reasons which he could notsympathise with; and thus Margaret escaped the shock of welcome, whichwould perhaps have driven her in her impatience back to the mountainof St. Victoire, and the sable cavern of Lou Garagoule.
During the time of her absence, the days of the court of Provence wereemployed in sports and rejoicings of every description; tilting at thebarrier with blunted spears, riding at the ring, parties forhare-hunting and falconry, frequented by the youth of both sexes, inthe company of whom the King delighted, while the evenings wereconsumed in dancing and music.
Arthur could not but be sensible that not long since all this wouldhave made him perfectly happy; but the last months of his existencehad developed his understanding and passions. He was now initiated inthe actual business of human life, and looked on its amusements withan air of something like contempt; so that among the young and gaynoblesse who composed this merry court he acquired the title of theyouthful philosopher, which was not bestowed upon him, it may besupposed, as inferring anything of peculiar compliment.
On the fourth day news was received, by an express messenger, thatQueen Margaret would enter Aix before the hour of noon, to resume herresidence in her father's palace. The good King Rene seemed, as itdrew nigh, to fear the interview with his daughter as much as he hadpreviously desired it, and contrived to make all around him partake ofhis fidgety anxiety. He tormented his steward and cooks to recollectwhat dishes they had ever observed her to taste of withapprobation--he pressed the musicians to remember the tunes which sheapproved; and when one of them boldly replied he had never known herMajesty endure any strain with patience, the old monarch threatened toturn him out of his service for slandering the taste of his daughter.The banquet was ordered to be served at half past eleven, as ifaccelerating it would have had the least effect upon hurrying thearrival of the expected guests; and the old King, with his napkin overhis arm, traversed the hall from window to window, wearying every onewith questions, whether they saw anything of the Queen of England.Exactly as the bells tolled noon, the Queen, with a very smallretinue, chiefly English, and in mourning habits like herself, rodeinto the town of Aix. King Rene, at the head of his court, failed notto descend from the front of his stately palace, and move along thestreet to meet his daughter. Lofty, proud, and jealous of incurri
ngridicule, Margaret was not pleased with this public greeting in themarket-place. But she was desirous at present to make amends for herlate petulance, and therefore she descended from her palfrey; and,although something shocked at seeing Rene equipped with a napkin, shehumbled herself to bend the knee to him, asking at once his blessingand forgiveness.
"Thou hast--thou hast my blessing, my suffering dove," said the simpleKing to the proudest and most impatient princess that ever wept for alost crown.--"And for thy pardon, how canst thou ask it, who neverdidst me an offence since God made me father to so gracious achild?--Rise, I say rise--nay, it is for me to ask thy pardon--True, Isaid in my ignorance, and thought within myself, that my heart hadindited a goodly thing--but it vexed thee. It is therefore for me tocrave pardon."--And down sank good King Rene upon both knees; and thepeople, who are usually captivated with anything resembling the trickof the scene, applauded with much noise, and some smothered laughter,a situation in which the royal daughter and her parent seemed about torehearse the scene of the Roman Charity.
Margaret, sensitively alive to shame, and fully aware that her presentposition was sufficiently ludicrous in its publicity at least, signedsharply to Arthur, whom she saw in the King's suite, to come to her;and, using his arm to rise, she muttered to him aside, and inEnglish,--"To what saint shall I vow myself, that I may preservepatience when I so much need it!"
"For pity's sake, royal madam, recall your firmness of mind andcomposure," whispered her esquire, who felt at the moment moreembarrassed than honoured by his distinguished office, for he couldfeel that the Queen actually trembled with vexation and impatience.
They at length resumed their route to the palace, the father anddaughter arm in arm--a posture most agreeable to Margaret, who couldbring herself to endure her father's effusions of tenderness, and thegeneral tone of his conversation, so that he was not overheard byothers. In the same manner, she bore with laudable patience theteasing attentions which he addressed to her at table, noticed some ofhis particular courtiers, inquired after others, led the way to hisfavourite subjects of conversation on poetry, painting, and music,till the good King was as much delighted with the unwonted civilitiesof his daughter as ever was lover with the favourable confessions ofhis mistress, when, after years of warm courtship, the ice of herbosom is at length thawed. It cost the haughty Margaret an effort tobend herself to play this part--her pride rebuked her for stooping toflatter her father's foibles, in order to bring him over to theresignation of his dominions--yet having undertaken to do so, and somuch having been already hazarded upon this sole remaining chance ofsuccess in an attack upon England, she saw, or was willing to see, noalternative.
Betwixt the banquet and the ball by which it was to be followed, theQueen sought an opportunity of speaking to Arthur.
"Bad news, my sage counsellor," she said. "The Carmelite neverreturned to the convent after the service was over. Having learnedthat you had come back in great haste, he had, I suppose, concluded hemight stand in suspicion, so he left the convent of Mont St.Victoire."
"We must hasten the measures which your Majesty has resolved toadopt," answered Arthur.
"I will speak with my father to-morrow. Meanwhile, you must enjoy thepleasures of the evening, for to you they may be pleasures.--Younglady of Boisgelin, I give you this cavalier to be your partner for theevening."
The black-eyed and pretty Provencale curtseyed with due decorum, andglanced at the handsome young Englishman with an eye of approbation;but whether afraid of his character as a philosopher, or his doubtfulrank, added the saving clause,--"If my mother approves."
"Your mother, damsel, will scarce, I think, disapprove of any partnerwhom you receive from the hands of Margaret of Anjou. Happy privilegeof youth," she added with a sigh, as the youthful couple went off totake their place in the _bransle_,[10] "which can snatch a flower evenon the roughest road!"
Arthur acquitted himself so well during the evening, that perhaps theyoung Countess was only sorry that so gay and handsome a gallantlimited his compliments and attentions within the cold bounds of thatcourtesy enjoined by the rules of ceremony.
FOOTNOTES:
[10] Bransle, in English, brawl--a species of dance.
