Corse de Leon; or, The Brigand: A Romance. Volume 1 (of 2)

by G. P. R. James

  CHAPTER XIX.

  Bernard de Rohan waited long; and, though his imagination was not anactive one in regard to difficulties or dangers in his own case, yet,when he thought of Isabel de Brienne, nurtured with care, andtenderness, and softness, never having known during life the want ofprotection, or the necessity of acting for herself, never having been anhour without protection--when he thought that she must now go forward toParis alone, without any one loved or known to sooth and guide her;without any other protection but that of a few menials; with the bitterthought of having lost him she loved for ever, as the chief recollectionof the past, and with the expectation of meeting her mother, who hadbeen always harsh, and her stepfather, who had treated her withtreachery and baseness, as the chief anticipation of the future--hisheart burned to speed on, without the loss of a single moment, toprotect, to console, and to relieve her from the deep sorrow which heknew too well must overshadow her.

  Still one hour passed after another, the sun began to decline from themeridian, and the good hostess only visited him on two occasions. In thefirst place, to tell him that a party of travellers who stopped for halfan hour at the inn were only peasants from a neighbouring village; and,in the next place, to beseech him not to go near the windows, or to showhimself in any way, as a party of the Lord of Masseran's men had justpassed, and another was speedily to follow.

  At length the aubergiste himself appeared, heated and dusty, and,closing the door carefully, told him that he had found the man he wentto seek, and had brought back with him a few words written on a strip ofleather. They were deciphered with difficulty, but were to the followingeffect: "I thought you gone for ever. But, as you are still destined toremain with the rest of us, so let it be. I will visit you to-night, andyou shall soon find the lady; but on no account go on till you have seenme! By so doing you will endanger her, endanger yourself, and delay yourmeeting."

  Bernard de Rohan gazed upon the writing, and then turned a dissatisfiedlook towards the sky. "This is trifling," he thought: "I must be acrossthe frontier as speedily as possible. Well might Isabel think me cruelif I remained here an hour longer, knowing that she is in danger,sorrow, and anxiety."

  "Have you heard aught of a horse, my good Gandelot?" he said: "I cannotwait as he requires me. How far is it to the frontier?"

  "Two hours' journey on horseback," replied the host, "and four or fiveafoot. But there is no horse to be found, and you must not think oftrying it on foot, my noble lord. You do not know that the people fromthe castle are scouring the whole road between this and Bonvoisin."

  "But they do not know me," answered Bernard de Rohan. "There is scarceone among them that has ever seen me. Five hours? that is long, indeed!But I could buy a horse at Chambery."

  "Not before nightfall," replied the host; "and you had a great dealbetter wait here to see one who can help you more speedily than anybodyelse."

  "Why cannot I go to him?" demanded Bernard de Rohan. "If you can findhim, so can I."

  "Oh, surely," replied Gandelot, "but you run a great risk of beingtaken."

  "If that be all," answered the young cavalier, "I should think thatthere was less chance of being taken on the hillside than here.Something must be risked, at all events, Gandelot. Get me a peasant'sfrock, good friend, and a large hat: my own I lost in the fall, you see.When I am so dressed, I shall pass unknown, I'll warrant, should it bethrough the midst of this Lord of Masseran's men."

  "I must show you the way, however," replied the innkeeper. "But stay aminute, and I'll get what you want: it is no bad plan."

  Thus saying, Gandelot left him; but the aubergiste was not long beforehe returned, bringing with him a peasant's frock and belt, and a largestraw hat, such as we have mentioned in describing the dress of goodFather Willand at the beginning of this true history. The very act ofputting them on was a relief to the mind of Bernard de Rohan; for, to aman accustomed to action, inactivity adds an almost insupportable burdento grief and anxiety. When the frock, however, was cast over hisshoulders, and his head was covered with the hat, Gandelot gazed uponhim with a smile, saying, "I must take care, my lord, that I don'tmistake you for a peasant, and ask you to sell me eggs. Well, I did notknow how much the dress made the man before."

  Passing over the bad compliment of his host without notice, Bernard deRohan only expressed his eagerness to set out; and Gandelot, afterhaving gone down to look round the inn on every side, and to ascertainthat no one was watching, returned in a few minutes, carrying in hishand a short sword and dagger, such as were worn commonly by what werecalled the New Bands, warring in Piedmont for the service of France.

  "Nobody can tell what may happen, my lord," he said, "so you had bettertuck those up under your gown; but don't draw the belt too tight, or thehilt will appear."

  Bernard de Rohan grasped the weapon as he would the hand of an oldfriend, and, concealing it carefully under the frock, he followed theinnkeeper, who led him out through the back court of the auberge uponthe side of the mountain, where a steep pathway led up between therocks, and over the lower part of the hill, into one of the valleys,which, without plunging deep into the alpine scenery around, led througha softer but still uncultivated country, in the direction of Albens. Theinnkeeper strolled on, and the young nobleman followed, both keeping aprofound silence till the inn and all the neighbouring objects were outof sight.

  When they had fully plunged into the valley, however, good Gandelotspoke, but still in a low voice, saying, "We are pretty safe here; thedanger was up yonder."

  Bernard de Rohan made no direct reply, but asked whether the road theywere taking did not lead him farther from that which he had afterward totravel. Assured, however, by the good innkeeper that it did not, he wenton in silence, finding by the length of way that his companion had lostno time upon the previous journey he had made during the morning. Atlength Gandelot turned a little towards the north, up a smaller valley,which, winding away with many bends and angles, never exposed more thanone or two hundred yards of hillside to the view at once. At the end ofabout a quarter of an hour after entering this dell, a solitary housepresented itself, as desolate in appearance as well might be. It wasold, and built of cold gray stone, with a roof of slates; and a lowgarden wall which surrounded it enclosed a space of ground amounting toperhaps an acre or an acre and a half, but in no degree impeded the viewof the house.

  The hills in that spot were quite bare: much lower, indeed, than thescenery from which Bernard de Rohan had just come, but far more nakedand arid. Not a shrub, not a tree was to be seen. Nothing but scantyturf, broken by scattered stones, with occasional crags here and there,covered the slopes; and, had it not been for those thin, short blades ofgrass, one might have fancied one's self in the world before thevegetable creation had been called into being.

  "You will find him there, my good young lord," said Gandelot, pointingforward to the house: "I will stay here. But you had better whistle, asyou know how, when you go up, that he may know you are coming. If youfind that you are not likely to come back before night--and it isgetting somewhat late now--send me out word, and I will hie me home."

  "Nay, leave me, leave me, good Gandelot," replied the young cavalier. "Iwill find my way back: I never forget a path I have once trodden."

  Thus saying, he advanced towards the desolate-looking house which stoodbefore him, and, at a short distance from it, imitated, as well as hecould, that peculiar whistle which he had heard more than once among thecompanions of Corse de Leon. The sounds had scarcely issued from hislips ere the brigand himself appeared at the door, and, apparentlywithout the slightest apprehension or hesitation, walked forward to meethim. He was habited in the same large cloak and hat which he had worn onthe night when Bernard de Rohan first beheld him, so that the youngnobleman could plainly see he bore his left arm supported by a bandagefrom his neck.

  The moment they met he grasped Bernard warmly by the hand, saying, "Soyou are living! you are living! I never thought we should see each otheragain in this world, though I did th
ink we might meet in that where thecompensations are reserved to confound the workings of the great badspirit to whom this earth is given up for evil. But I fell into a sadmistake, and have let your sweet lady go away in the belief that you aredead."

  "It is on that account," said Bernard de Rohan, "that I am so eager toset out, in order to put her mind at ease; but I know not where she isto be found, or which road she has taken. Neither have I horse nor arms,nor, I fear, enough in my purse both to buy them and carry me on my wayalso."

  "And you come to me for all!" said Corse de Leon, with a smile: "whowould ever have thought this, some seven or eight years ago, when theyoung Lord of Rohan struck down to the earth the intendant of theCountess of Brienne for wronging the sister of a poor soldier far awayfighting for his country? Who would have thought that the poor soldierwould ever have been able to aid the young lord in marrying her heloved, or to furnish him with horse, and arms, and money, in an hour ofneed? There is a retribution in this world! Ay, there is a retributioneven here! But come, my lord, I am your humble servant; but, perhaps, atruer friend than any whom you meet with in your own rank and class. Letus into the house, and rest you for the remainder of the day. You willtravel quicker, better, more safely in the night. Ere the sun goes downyou shall have all that you want; and between this and tomorrow'snightfall you may well overtake the lady."

  Corse de Leon saw that, notwithstanding the reasons he gave, Bernard deRohan was not well pleased with even the short delay that he proposed.He was not one who loved long explanations of any kind, but he couldfeel for an impatient disposition; and he added, as if in reply to hiscompanion's look, "It cannot be otherwise: I have had to send a fourhours' journey for the horses, and they cannot be here till night,though the messenger has been absent now near two hours. You would makeno greater speed by going back to the inn. Come in, sit down, then, restyou, and bear what is unavoidable as patiently as may be; for, thoughhalf the difference between great men and little ones in this world liesin their judgment of what can be done and what cannot be done, andthough half the things men despair of are as easy as to drink from astream, yet, nevertheless, there are things that are impossible, and inthose cases it is useless to struggle."

  Thus saying, he led the young nobleman into the house, the door of whichhad remained unclosed. Though Bernard de Rohan could hear several voicesspeaking in one of the rooms as he walked along the passage, it was intoa small vacant chamber, on the left-hand side, that Corse de Leonconducted him. The windows commanded a view down a considerable part ofthe valley, but still the aspect of the whole place was so undefendedand unguarded, that the young cavalier, knowing the state of hostilitywith the great and powerful in which Corse de Leon lived, could not helpfeeling some surprise at his choosing such an abode.

  "Are you not," he said, gazing from the window, "are you not in asadly-exposed situation here? Why, the Lord of Masseran, or any other ofthose small tyrants, could attack you at any time without thepossibility of your escape."

  "You are mistaken," replied Corse de Leon, shortly: "before he camewithin two leagues of me, I should know his whole proceedings, andeither scatter over the hill, and reach coverts which it were wiser tosearch for the deer or the chamois than for Corse de Leon, or else offerthe good lord some hospitality on his coming which he might neither bewilling to receive nor able to return. We have resources that you arenot aware of, and neither he nor any one else knows more of them than tomake him fear."

  "That you yourself have infinite resources in your activity andexperience," replied Bernard de Rohan, "I can easily believe; but,depend upon it, if you were to trust the guidance of such hazardousmatters to other men, they would soon be overthrown."

  "Not so, not so," replied his companion; "I know the contrary. Twice,for ends and objects of my own, I have traversed all France, leaving mymen behind me; and, though perhaps not quite so busy as when I amhere--ay, and somewhat cruel and disorderly when left to their owncourse--no evil has happened to themselves. I am now about to do thesame, and I do it in all confidence."

  "Do you propose to go soon?" demanded Bernard de Rohan, in somesurprise.

  "Ay," replied the brigand, "soon enough to meet you in Paris some day,perchance, or even to overtake you on the road; and, as we now talkabout those things, let me caution you never to speak to me unless Ispeak to you: then take the tone that I take, whether it be one ofstrangeness or of former acquaintance. Recollect, too, that there is nosuch person as Corse de Leon beyond the frontiers of Savoy; but that, inmany a part of France, the Chevalier Lenoir is known, and not badlyesteemed."

  "I will be careful," replied the young lord. "But now, my good friend,tell me whither has my poor Isabel directed her steps."

  "First to Grenoble," replied Corse de Leon, "in the hope of finding herbrother there; but, should she not meet with him, she goes thence atonce to throw herself at the feet of the king."

  "But are you perfectly certain," demanded Bernard de Rohan, "that shehas escaped from the pursuit of this base man who has married hermother?"

  "Perfectly," replied Corse de Leon: "I saw her across the frontieryesterday. Besides, as I told you before, the Lord of Masseran himselfis absent, carried by fears regarding the discovery of his own treacheryinto the very jaws of the lion, power. Power is the only true basilisk.Its eyes are those alone in this world which can fascinate the smallthings hovering round it to drop into its mouth. But the lady is safe.Be satisfied, and you can well overtake her ere she reaches Grenoble. Ibade them send back a man to tell me if she found not her brother there;for, as I am going to Paris also, I thought perchance it might be betterto keep near her on the road, and bring her help in case she needed it.But your own men are enough, I do not doubt, and I can but take few withme, if any."

  "But is it not dangerous," said the young nobleman, "for you to travelimmediately after receiving so severe an injury?"

  "Dangerous!" said Corse de Leon; "oh, there is no danger in such things.I do believe these mountains that I love will crush me at last; fortwice have I escaped almost by a miracle. But it is this injury, as youcall it, that has determined me to go now. I can be of but little activeuse here till I can climb a rock again, and use this left arm as well asthe right. No man has a title to remain an hour in idleness, whatever behis calling. Sleep itself I do not rightly understand: it is a lapse inthe active exertion of our being which is very strange, a sort of calmpool in the midst of a torrent: I suppose it is solely for the body'ssake. There could have been no sleep before death came into the world;for, not being subject to decay, the earthly frame could require norefreshment any more than the spirit. However, as I was saying, idle andinactive drones pretend that they must have rest and pause: if the headaches or the hand is hurt, they declare that they can neither think norlabour; but the wise man and the energetic man makes his spirit likethat monstrous serpent which I have heard of, and which, when one headwas smitten off, produced at once another. If a man cannot walk, he canride; if a man's right arm be broken, let him use his left; if his eyesbe put out, his ears will hear but the better--let him use them. Ourmanifold senses are but manifold capabilities; and if the mind isdebarred from using one of its tools, it must use another. No man needwant employment for the senses, the limbs, and the means that he hasleft, if he chooses to seek for it. For a while I shall be of no goodupon the mountain, and therefore I am going to the city. Some time oranother I must go, and therefore I may as well go now. But here comesthe old woman with my mess of food. You must take some with me. No oneknows better than she does how to cook the chamois, or the venison, orto roast the shining trout in the ashes, or the snow-fowl over the fire;and as for wine, the cellar of an archbishop or of a prior of amonastery could not give you better than this lonely house can produce.Nay, nay, shake not your head; you must eat and drink, let yourimpatience be what it may: every man needs strength; and that we shouldtake food is a condition of our flesh and blood."

  In conversation of this kind passed away the hours, Bernard de Rohan andhis s
trange companion remaining almost altogether alone, though once twoyoung men, dressed like herdsmen, came to the door of the room, and,leaning against the doorposts, addressed to Corse de Leon a few words,apparently of no great import, and upon ordinary subjects, but to whichBernard de Rohan imagined some occult meaning was attached.

  At length, much to the satisfaction of the young cavalier, a perceptibleshade of twilight came over the valley, along which the shadows of thehills had been creeping for some time. The twilight grew grayer and moregray, and Bernard de Rohan rose and walked to the window, with hisimpatience for the arrival of the horses increasing every moment. Corsede Leon was looking at him with a slight smile when he turned round;but, in a few minutes after, the brigand rose, left the room, andreturned with the two young men whom Bernard de Rohan had seen before.They were now loaded, however, with various kinds of arms andhabiliments of different sorts, which seemed to have been gathered frommany a quarter of the earth. These were spread out, some upon the tableand some on the floor; and this being performed without a word, thosewho bore them retired, only appearing again to furnish the chamber witha light.

  Corse de Leon glanced his eye to the young cavalier, and then gazed uponthe pile with a somewhat cynical smile.

  "This seems to be an abundant harvest," said Bernard de Rohan, whosedoubts as to the means employed to procure such rich habiliments weremany.

  "You say true," replied the brigand; "but you must remember, we are manyreapers. This has been going on, too, for very many years, so that youwill find here garments of various ages and of different nations. Lookhere," he continued, taking up a black velvet surtout richly embroideredwith gold; "this is a coat cut in the fashion of forty or fifty yearsago, and belonged to some fat Englishman, who doubtless came over toFrance with that arch heretic and blood monger Henry, who has not beenmany years dead. Then, depend upon it, he would see foreign countries,and go to Italy, and has left part of his fine wardrobe here behind himin the mountains."

  "An unwilling legacy, I should think," replied Bernard de Rohan.

  "Yes," answered the brigand; "but that is not a shot-hole you arelooking at so curiously. Our traditions say, I believe--for we have ourtraditions--that the good gentleman got safe home, though somewhatthinner of purse and scantier in apparel than when he came away.However, choose yourself out some quiet suit that will not attractattention, for you must not go riding through France like a Savoyardpeasant. There, that black hat and feather, which would become somesober student of Padua, making his first effort to look the cavalier.Then there is that stout buff coat I would recommend, with black loopsand borders. Ay, it is somewhat heavy, but there is a secret in that:dagger or sword point will not well make its way through the jackeddoublings of those hides, and a pistol-ball would strike but faintly,even if it did pass. Then there are those horseman's boots: they will beno bad addition to the rest. That long sharp sword, too, in the blacksheath, will suit the hat, and none the less fit the hand. It is trueToledo. Now seek for two daggers somewhat like it, and a pair of pistolsfor the saddlebow. By the Lord that lives, if the horse they bring bebut a gray Spanish charger, with a tail longer than ordinary, they willtake you for some one who has been studying the black art at Salamanca,or perhaps for some lay officer of the Inquisition in disguise. Is thecoat large enough? Oh, ay! it fits well. Now for a cloak to match."

  With the assistance of his companion, Bernard de Rohan fitted himselfwith new garments, which somewhat disguised, but did not ill become hispowerful form. After he had done, the brigand opened the mouth of alittle sack which had been brought with the rest, saying, "Take what youwill: you can repay me hereafter."

  The young cavalier, however, took no more of the gold pieces whichappeared shining within than was absolutely necessary, replying to theremonstrance of Corse de Leon that, as he approached nearer to Paris,there were many who would be willing to assist him.

  "Well, well," replied the brigand, "it matters not. I shall not be farfrom you. But now let us away. I hear the horses, and you are impatientto be gone. We can meet them, therefore, as they come."

  Though Bernard de Rohan heard nothing of the sounds which hiscompanion's fine ear had discovered, he gladly followed him out to themountain-road, and walked on with him for some way before the horsesappeared. Their feet were soon heard, however; and at length a man,mounted on a charger and leading another, was seen coming rapidlytowards them. The animal he led was powerful, and yet apparently swift:some short time was spent in adjusting the arms and the stirrups; andthen, after offering many thanks to his strange companion for all thathe had done, Bernard de Rohan grasped his hand, sprang into the saddle,and rode away in the direction of Chambery.