Vayenne

by Percy James Brebner

  CHAPTER XVII

  THE DUKE OF MONTVILLIERS

  Darkness crept slowly over Vayenne. Lights shone in the widerthoroughfares, and blinked dimly in the narrower streets. The tavernsand the cafes were full, and although there were some who went abouttheir business as though this night were as other nights, there weremany who had waited eagerly for the close of day and knew that thehour of action was at hand. Only a few, perhaps, had any clear notionwhat was to happen; the majority would merely follow where they wereled, do what they were told, without question, and without knowing towhat end their actions tended. Whatever that end might be, theyunderstood in a vague manner that it would be to their own individualadvantage, and in every city there are large numbers who want nogreater incentive than this to make them turn out of the ordinarycourse of their daily routine. They will eagerly follow a possibilitywithout pausing to weigh probabilities. So they waited in the taverns,in the cafes, and at street corners for their leaders, who werediscussing the final plans with Pierre Briant at the Cheval Noir.

  Within the castle all was life and movement, all men working towardthe same purpose it would seem, and if there were an undercurrentwhich set in an opposite direction, none but those interested in ithad time to notice it. Even the lynx-eyed Barbier surveyed hispreparations, and found little wanting. For the Duke must be crownedwith all ancient customs, and it was so long since a duke had beencrowned in Vayenne that some of the usages had been almost forgotten.

  The custom had come down from ancient times, and Count Felix dared notalter it. To-night was the civil crowning. In the great hall stood thechair of state, mounted on a platform of six steps; and here in thepresence of the nobles of the land and representative burghers of thecity, must Felix claim to mount that throne as rightful heir, or bythe power given him of the people. If any choose, now might theyquestion him, and he must answer, but being once seated in the chairof state, all right of question was over; only could petition be madethen, which the new Duke might answer or not as he willed. Then apriest, placing a golden circle upon his brows, proclaimed him crownedDuke of this land of Montvilliers, and bade him consecrate suchcrowning on the morrow according to all rites and customs. Then mustthe representative nobles and burghers, each and individually, bow theknee and swear fealty to their sovereign, making oath to keep therealm inviolate with their lives, and to hold their swords andrevenues at the Duke's service for the defence of the state and of hisperson. Thus was the Duke crowned by his court and by his people.To-morrow in St. Etienne must he be crowned by the Church. Here for aspace he must wear the iron crown of Montvilliers and make his vowsbefore the altar in the midst of gorgeous ceremonial and splendor.

  There had been occasions when the religious crowning had not followedthe civil one immediately, but this was only when stress of stateaffairs intervened, or an enemy thundered at the gates. Count Felixhad decreed that it should follow at once. To-night the civil,to-morrow morning the religious ceremony. When darkness fell againthe double ordeal should be over.

  The dwarf squatted upon his doubled-up legs in the deep embrasure ofone of the windows in the great hall which overlooked the square. Hewas lifted well above the heads of those who were rapidly filling thehall from end to end, and no one entered without Jean's keen eyenoting them and the particular position they took up. Yet to watchhim, one would not have supposed that he took any very keen interestin what was going forward. He sat in a more huddled-up fashion thanusual, his eyes half closed, as though he might fall asleep at anymoment. His bauble was tucked under his arm, and held there so thatthe little bells on it might not jingle; and although several menlooked up at him and made some passing jest, he had no answer forthem. The lights in the hall left this window somewhat in shadow, andthe dwarf seemed to have chosen it in order to draw as littleattention to himself as possible. Beside him lay a small, unlightedtorch.

  The chair of state stood on its raised dais at the upper end of thehall, and the space around it was at present empty. The less importantfolk came into the hall first, soldiers and retainers, those who heldoffice about the castle, and others who held civil offices in the townand who by custom had a right to be present at this ceremony.

  Captain Barbier, still ignorant apparently of the release of theprisoners, was the most conspicuous person in the assembly at present,and Jean gave more than a passing glance to him. He noted how heplaced the company of guards who presently tramped into the hall,noted that, for all his fine appearance and buoyant camaraderie, thecaptain was no great favorite; a sneer met him here, and a look ofcontempt followed him yonder. Barbier was quite oblivious of the oneand the other. He could afford to smile and strut in his gay newfeathers, for was he not trusted by the new Duke, was he not a man inauthority, one it would be ill considered to offend? Barbier knew thefull strength of his position, and was unlikely to let any of itsadvantages slip. Jean was quick to recognize the tact and wisdom therewas in this man, and to understand that with a few more like him DukeFelix's throne might stand firmer than it did at present.

  Next there came into the hall representatives of the suites of thenobles who had come to Vayenne for the funeral of the old Duke and forthe coronation of the new. Some of these nobles had been lodged in thecastle, some in the town. For the most part they had brought fewretainers with them, having, indeed, few to bring. There were rich menin Montvilliers, but not many of them were of noble descent, and someof the most ancient families were comparatively poor. De Bornais wasone of the exceptions, and besides loved to uphold his dignity. He hadcome to Vayenne with a considerable retinue, and although all hisfollowers did not find a place in the hall to-night, he had a largerrepresentation there than anyone else. Jean looked at these men keenlyas they were marshalled to their places at the very edge of the openspace which surrounded the raised dais. They were fewer in number thanhe could have wished, but they were stalwart men. One, who fell intohis place behind the others, and who, while Barbier was near, kept hishand over his brow, hiding the upper part of his face, glancedpresently toward the window where the dwarf sat, and their eyes met.No heads were turned to look at this man particularly, yet for Jeanthe most important person who would find place in that assemblyto-night had already come. It was Roger Herrick.

  And now from the side doors which led from the great hall, noblesentered, and took up their positions in the vacant place around thechair of state, and there were many ladies, their wives or daughters,or those who in their own right held high place in the land. Thebeautiful Countess Elisabeth drew all eyes to her as she took herplace at the foot of the dais. Jewels were at her throat and in herhair, and there was no woman fairer to look upon in all that greatassembly. After her coming there was a pause, and then, followed byLucille, Christine de Liancourt entered the hall. A murmur of welcome,like a ripple of low music, greeted her, and the eyes that had restedupon the Countess turned to rest on her. Jewels were at her throat,too, and on her brow a jewelled diadem; almost it seemed as though forher all ceremony was at an end, that already she was crowned Duchess.It was the first time Herrick had seen her arrayed in all the splendorof beautiful womanhood, and that beauty and her position seemed tolift her far beyond his reach. All that had happened in these lastdays, the ride through the forest, the desperate encounter, thecharcoal-burners' hut, their last meeting in the house in the PlaceBeauvoisin, all seemed to sink far back into the past, to fade andtake indefinite outline, to wrap themselves in the dim mantle whichbelongs to dreams. The present, and all thought of the things he wasto do in it, was for the moment forgotten, and fascination riveted hiseyes on this woman as a man may look upward and gaze spellbound at thebeauty of a distant star. Was it true that only a few nights since shehad almost confessed that she loved him? That such a thing could be,seemed impossible now.

  Christine was pale, but her eyes shone, and the little firm mouth wasbrave and determined; yet Lucille, who stood beside her, knew that shewas nervous. Christine spoke to her companion, looking into her eyesas she uttered some commonplace. She p
aid no heed to the girl'sanswer, her only desire was to steady herself. To-night something wasto happen, in a few moments it might be. What was to happen, how itwas to come, she did not know; she was only certain that whether camesuccess or failure, bloodshed must assuredly follow. What part had sheto play in this rebellion? Then growing steady, she turned and lookedto where de Bornais' men stood close behind their master, and saw howRoger Herrick's eyes were fixed upon her. If she read any message atall in them, it did not help her to understand what was to occur. Shedid not glance at the window in the shadows. She had no knowledge thatJean was there. "Obedience and trust," the dwarf was muttering tohimself and wondering how it was friend Roger had succeeded in makingher promise so much. Truth to tell there was something like resentmentin Christine's mind at that moment at being kept so entirely in thedark. What could happen to-night? What power had this one man, whostood, insignificant, behind de Bornais?

  Suddenly there was movement in the hall and shouting, loud shouts ofwelcome rising sharply above a low, murmuring accompaniment whichmight be a welcome, differently expressed, or might not. At leastthere was no harsh and unruly cry of dissatisfaction, nothing thatbroke upon the ear as actual discord. Those at the back stretchedthemselves and stood on tiptoe in an endeavor to look over theirneighbors' heads; and even Jean from his exalted position could notsee clearly what was going forward, for the crowd had closed in atthe upper end of the hall for a moment. Then it fell back a little, toshow that Count Felix stood at the foot of the dais, and that FatherBertrand had mounted it and stood by the chair of state.

  There was a moment's pause, during which the shifting feet becamesilent, and Jean, leaning backward in the shadow of the embrasure,stole a glance down into the great square below.

  "It has ever been our custom to crown the Dukes of Montvilliersaccording to certain peculiar rites and customs," said FatherBertrand, speaking slowly and in a tone which carried his wordsclearly to the utmost limits of the great hall. "You know, most ofyou, what these ancient rites and customs are, how your future Duke,claiming this throne, must stand to answer your questioning before heseats himself to receive your homage. There have been occasions whenthe claim has stood more by might than by right, when your voices bycommon consent have bid a warrior, or a deliverer from oppression, towear the crown and rule over you. This is no such occasion. SinceMaurice, son of the late Duke, is dead, Count Felix stands before you,the legal heir to Duke Robert. I have then but to ask him thosequestions which every Duke that has reigned in Montvilliers has beenasked, solemn questions which here, in this old hall of Vayenne, eachone of them has been required to answer. Count Felix, I demand by whatright you claim to ascend this throne of Montvilliers?"

  "By right of birth," came the answer, spoken quickly and in a loudvoice.

  There was a pause, but no sound broke the silence which followed.

  "Count Felix, I charge you, is there any reason known to you whichmakes your claim a false one?"

  "There is no such reason," said the Count. Again he spoke quickly andin a clear tone, and he looked at Christine. Her eyes met his for amoment, but hers were the first to look away. Whatever she knew orbelieved, she was not going to speak.

  Again the silence remained unbroken.

  "Count Felix, do you swear to govern this land according to the samelaws of right and liberty by which it has heretofore been governed,and to hold the welfare of your people as a sacred trust?"

  "All this I swear to do," answered the Count.

  "My lords, knights, burghers, and men of Montvilliers, those are thequestions I have to ask, and which you have heard the Count answer.Now question him as you will," said Father Bertrand.

  Count Felix stood on the lower step of the dais, and turned to facehis questioners. He was pale as a man facing such an ordeal well mightbe, but he smiled bravely. He felt that the worst was over. Christinehad not spoken. The time for the questions which he had dreaded mostseemed to be passed. Christine did not look at him. Her eyes werefixed upon the group of men behind de Bornais. One of them no longerkept himself in the background. His companions had made way for him,and he stood almost at de Bornais' side. Why had Roger Herrick notspoken? Had fear kept him dumb at the last moment?

  For some little time no question was asked, and then a burgher,stammering in his words and half fearful of the sound of his ownvoice, prayed for an alteration in some civic law, a mere trivialityit seemed to break so momentous a silence. Yet it set others askingquestions, and Felix answered them, promising future grave attentionwhere no immediate relief could be given. Such questioning served tostimulate the Count, and a color gradually stole into his face. A newcourage was in his soul as may come to a man who feels himself whole,and knows that the danger he has so much dreaded is past.

  The questioning was over. A long pause had come, and not a voice wasraised in the hall. The dwarf silently put down his bauble by hisside, careful that the little bells should not jingle, and took up thetorch. Matches were in his hand, but his eyes were fixed upon thedais. No movement below caused him to look away for an instant.

  "Count Felix," the priest's voice rang out clearly, "you have answeredmy questions, you have answered the questions of your people asrepresented by this assembly. To this throne you must now ascend."

  Count Felix turned, and his foot was on the second step of the daiswhen a loud voice cried:

  "Stay!"

  Felix, white again suddenly, and to his very lips, looked down intothe face of the man who had dared thus to approach the throne andstand even with his foot upon the first step. He wore the uniform ofthe de Bornais, but Felix hardly noticed this. It was the face of theman that riveted his attention. He recognized it. How could he forgetit, since when last he looked into those eyes it had been across keen,naked blades. Does a man ever forget a face seen thus?

  "Your interference comes late," said the priest, "yet is it not, Ithink, against the ancient custom. Until the Duke is seated he may bequestioned. What is your question?"

  Christine bent suddenly forward almost as though she expected thequestion to be asked in a whisper. But the words rang out clearly.

  "It is no question I would ask, but a demand I make, not to CountFelix, but to those assembled in this hall. I, Roger Herrick, claim myright by birth to ascend this throne as the true and lawful Duke ofMontvilliers!"