Vayenne

by Percy James Brebner

  CHAPTER XIX

  A CHANGED MAN

  The conviction that the new Duke had been too lenient was more firmlyimpressed upon Gaspard Lemasle each day, each hour almost. In thecaptain's conception of life and duty there was much that wasprimitive; a blow for a blow, treachery for treachery, seemed to himamongst the first laws of existence. Failure would have meant certaindeath to the conspirators, success naturally ought to mean death tothose against whom they had conspired, to Count Felix and all who hadaided him.

  "A man who holds his power at the hands of the mob cannot afford to belenient," he said to Jean.

  "Is that friend Roger's case?" said the dwarf.

  "At present, yes. The few soldiers we can command would hardly serveto crush an organized rising in the Count's favor. I would he weredead."

  Lemasle did not speak without reason. The people had come together fora purpose, but that purpose accomplished, the mob was not to be easilydispersed. Such men in rebelling threw law and order behind them, thethought of riot and plunder filled their hearts, yet at the veryoutset restraint had been put upon them. Nobles had been allowed topass through the streets and leave the city, strict orders being giventhat they were not to be molested. Some of the bolder spirits hadrefused to obey these orders and immediately found themselvesconfronted by soldiers, their carbines loaded, their swords drawn.The sharp orders from the officers left no doubt in the mind of thecrowd what the result of disobedience would be. There had been somelooting of shops, and swift punishment had fallen upon the robbers.The command to desist, if not instantly obeyed, was likely to meansudden death. The crowd was disappointed, and grew quarrelsome. Whathad been gained by setting this Duke Roger on the throne? The questiononce asked, there were many quite as ready to fight against Duke Rogeras they had been to fight for him, and the mob was split up intofactions. Serious street fighting became general, and had to besuppressed with a strong hand. To the Count and his allies, Herrickmay have been too lenient, but it soon became evident in Vayenne thatthe man who had been raised to power was capable of ruling with aniron hand. His prompt action somewhat appeased Lemasle, but it wasevident to the captain that the dissatisfaction was not stamped out,but lay hidden, smouldering, waiting its opportunity.

  The seven days which Herrick had given the nobles to decide whetherthey would serve him or not, had passed, and comparatively few of themhad submitted. Some asked for an extension of time, some would fainhave remained neutral, and others boldly declared their inability toaccept his claim as a just one. There was little doubt that Christinede Liancourt's attitude, which had certainly become known in manyquarters, had something to do with the position taken up by thenobility; and the people of Vayenne, whose idol Mademoiselle was, weresilently, if not openly, opposed to the new Duke in consequence. Therewas another point which told against Herrick. He refused, for thepresent, to be crowned in St. Etienne, and people were quick todeclare that he was afraid to go through such a ceremony because heknew that his claim was an unjust one. Lemasle urged him to wear theiron crown, pointing out how valuable an effect it would produce, butHerrick remained obdurate.

  "Not yet, Lemasle," he answered. "When the iron crown is placed on myhead the whole nation shall shout for joy, or the crown shall neverrest there."

  "You occupy a thorny seat, sir," said the captain, who had easilyfallen into his place as a loyal subject of the Duke.

  "I care not so long as such men as you, and those you command, loveme."

  The overbearing and insulting manner of Barbier had proved of greatservice to Herrick. The best soldiers and men-at-arms, who lovedGaspard Lemasle, were for the new Duke to a man; and if Herrick didnot hold his power by the will of the people exactly, he certainlycould not have held it without Lemasle. The fact was not unrecognizedin the Place Beauvoisin, where Felix still remained, and elsewhere.Lemasle might be bought presently, it was argued; for to men who arenot scrupulous themselves every man has his price. Those who hatedRoger Herrick could afford to wait.

  Herrick issued his orders from the same room whence Count Felix hadissued his, and Jean squatted beside him as he had done beside Felix.Herrick had wished to do away with the gaudy raiment and the cap andbells, but the dwarf had pleaded that he might retain them.

  "They have proved useful, they may prove so again," said Jean.

  Herrick was busy, and the dwarf had not spoken for nearly an hour,when the door opened, and two men were ushered into the room. In aninstant the dwarf's fingers were upon a revolver which he carriedunderneath his fool's garment, for Jean had constituted himself theDuke's special body-guard. His eyes were ever keenly watching thosewith whom the Duke conversed. An unfortunate movement might easilyhave cost a man his life.

  Herrick signed to the men who had remained near the door to comeforward.

  "Do you recognize me?" he asked.

  "No, my lord; but I know you are the Duke," answered one.

  The other was not so certain.

  "One of you helped to cut my bonds one night when I was bound byrobbers to a tree in the forest near your hut," said Herrick.

  The men remembered at once.

  "You little thought your services were given to the Duke ofMontvilliers, who does not forget them. We would find you betterservice in the Castle of Vayenne; but not at once. We have other workfor you to do. You remember our speaking of an old, toothless hag whowas with those robbers?"

  "Yes, my lord."

  "She must be found. Can you find her?"

  "We can try," was the answer. "We are more likely to be able to traceher than anyone else perhaps."

  Herrick struck a gong, and sent for Pierre Briant, who was instructedto take half a dozen men and go with the charcoal-burners.

  "This hag must be brought to Vayenne," he said. "Tie her up as youwill, but do not injure her. She has a secret, and we shall find meanshere to make her tell it."

  Jean looked at Herrick as the men left the room.

  "This mission is a secret, Jean; I would have no one told of it."

  The dwarf nodded.

  "Vayenne would be alive with rumor in an hour, and that we cannotafford."

  "Will you tell Mademoiselle?" Jean asked.

  "Why should I tell my enemy?"

  "To make her a friend," was the answer.

  Herrick laughed, but there was no mirth in his laughter.

  "You have changed a good deal, friend Roger," said the dwarf after apause.

  "Is that wonderful? Does a man become a duke without changing? To benobody particular is the happiest condition, Jean. When you climb upinto the seats of the mighty, you get a wider view of the world andthe men and women in it. The sight is not pleasant, and the heart andhead grow quickly sick of it all."

  "Why climb then?" asked Jean.

  "We are children of circumstances, and our own inclinations count forlittle," Herrick returned.

  "Twice, at least, you might have ridden to the frontier and leftMontvilliers to settle its own quarrels. Why didn't you?"

  "Ah! Why didn't I?" said Herrick, asking himself a question ratherthan making a reply to the dwarf.

  There was a long silence, and presently Jean rose to his feet, andgoing to Herrick, touched him on the arm with his fool's baublesharply enough to make the bells jingle.

  "I alone wear the uniform, friend Roger, but maybe I am not the onlyfool. There are different kinds of fools. Dukes may be of thebrotherhood, and perchance women like Mademoiselle de Liancourt. Youmight find the world a less disagreeable place if you deigned toexplain yourself and tried to understand others. Men have become wisebefore now by following the advice of a fool."

  Herrick laughed again, still mirthlessly, as he passed out of theroom. His days were full of arduous business. A few stanch friends hehad, but mostly enemies surrounded him, enemies who were silentbecause they feared him. Was it a marvel that he had changed? A manforced to hold his position by inspiring fear must necessarily liveapart and take care to show no weaknesses. Sentiment is not for him,and any kindness h
e may do must be begged for, not given freely. Sucha man must own to no mistakes, cannot confess to an ill-judged action,theoretically he must be incapable of doing wrong.

  From her window Christine saw Herrick cross the court-yard, and drewback as he glanced up. He had made no attempt to see her, had sent herno message, since that night in the great hall, and not wishing tomeet him she had remained in her rooms, although she was at liberty towander anywhere in the castle. Lucille was her constant companion, andalthough she was not allowed to go abroad in the city, she did goabout in the castle, and from her Christine learned much of what washappening. She heard that many nobles had refused to submit to the newDuke; that rioting had been suppressed with a quick and heavy hand;that the coming and going to and from the castle and the city wereunder strict supervision.

  "They say everywhere that the new Duke is a strong man," said Lucille.

  "Has he captured your fancy?" asked Christine.

  "Do you see in him the prince who, passing all others, was to come andkneel at your feet?"

  "Oh, mademoiselle, of course not," the girl answered, blushing. "Ihave passed through such excitement since I told you my dream that Ihad almost forgotten it. Besides----"

  "Well, child?"

  "Ah, you will be angry, but I thought--I really thought you loved theDuke."

  "You have strange fancies. Am I likely to have any feeling but hatredfor a tyrant and a usurper?"

  And then Christine had wished to be left alone, and Lucille wonderedwhether her anger was as great as it seemed.

  Who shall understand the heart of a woman? Truly, not even her lover.Christine told herself that she was glad Roger Herrick had not been tosee her, yet she watched from her window at those times she expectedto see him in the court-yard. As Duke he might be nothing more than anambitious tyrant, but she could not altogether forget what manner ofman he had been in the charcoal-burners' hut and at the house in thePlace Beauvoisin.

  She was alone, and Roger Herrick filled her thoughts, when the dooropened, and Herrick entered. He came unannounced, the door was closedbehind him, and they were alone. Jean's advice had not passedunheeded. Herrick had come determined to make an explanation. A slightcolor stole into Christine's face. Perhaps she was glad he had come,yet she resented the manner of his coming; and face to face with her,the memory of her scorn the other night rose vividly in Herrick'smind. In the short pause which ensued, Fate seemed to draw barriersbetween them.

  "Am I denied privacy then?" she asked.

  "Had I sent to ask you to see me, you would probably have refused,"said Herrick.

  "Probably."

  "Therefore I use the only way open to me," he answered.

  "At present you are master. A prisoner complains of insult in vain."

  "You are free to go where you will in the castle, mademoiselle. Ithought you understood that."

  "I wish to leave the castle," she answered.

  "At present that is impossible," he replied. "I have too many enemiesabroad as it is."

  "Why not crush them while you have the opportunity?" she said. "Killthe Count, kill me. Why do you hesitate?"

  "Count Felix certainly merits death," Herrick returned, "but I fearothers more than I do the Count."

  "Is it Maurice you fear? Your ambition hadn't fully blossomed that dayin the forest, or you would not have saved him."

  "You are unjust, mademoiselle."

  "Do you suppose your action the other night would have been possiblehad you spoken the whole truth, and declared that Maurice was alive,that you were the one man who knew that he was alive?"

  "I took the throne by right of birth, mademoiselle, you forget that.Why should I trouble to explain away Maurice's claim when his cousinFelix had had him buried in St. Etienne?"

  "You know Maurice was not buried there?"

  "But I do not know for certain that he is alive. Surely I am a betterDuke than Felix?"

  "You? An Englishman! A mere adventurer!"

  "You used kinder language, mademoiselle, when you chose to accept myservice."

  "Like others I have played into your hands," she answered. "I fail tosee the use in prolonging this interview."

  "Mademoiselle, I came to explain certain things to you."

  "You can force me to listen to you, but there is no explanation I willwillingly hear."

  "Trust me, there shall be no explanation that you do not willinglylisten to," said Herrick. "You compel me to silence, you drive me toharsh measures. Your enmity lends strength to these nobles who refuseto submit to my rule. They await their opportunity to rebel, but alonethey are powerless. Their only hope of success is to bring a foreignnation into Montvilliers to help them, and already there are rumorsthat such negotiations are taking place. I may fall, but with me fallsthe independence of Montvilliers, and the fault will lie at the doorof the woman who has so loudly professed her love for hercountry--your door, mademoiselle."

  "Montvilliers is in the hands of a foreigner now," she answeredquietly.

  "If you believe that, you know little of your country's history,"Herrick answered; "but you do not believe it. I have a claim, and youknow it, whether it is a good one in your eyes or not. If there is oneman necessary to the state at the present moment, I am that man; andif there is one person who has it in her power to ruin the state, youare that person; therefore you are confined to the castle. Some day,mademoiselle, you may understand that I have given you a lesson inpatriotism."

  "In words you are indeed a bold man," she said.

  "My deeds speak for themselves. They have saved Montvilliers fromCount Felix; with your help they should save the land from invasionand conquest. Will you ask me to explain all I came to say to youto-day?"

  "Is it necessary?" she asked. "You are afraid of me, I want noexplanation to understand that."

  "You once said that for your country's good you would marry CountFelix. Were they words merely, or did you mean it?"

  "I meant it."

  "And you hated him?"

  "It would have been a sacrifice."

  "Are you still prepared to make such a sacrifice?" Herrick asked. "Itis in your power to save the country from the double peril of civilwar and invasion. Will you do it?"

  "Marry Felix? Now?"

  "Why not, if your country demands it, or a worse than Felix ifnecessary. To-day Felix is nothing, he holds no power. The power iswith me. Make the sacrifice, mademoiselle; trust me to fulfil mypart--marry me."

  "Marry you!" she said, shrinking back from him.

  "That you hate me does not count, that is altogether beside thebargain. It is the country you have to consider; you make thesacrifice for your country."

  "Enough. I refuse to make such a sacrifice as this," she answered.

  "That I love you counts for nothing, I suppose?" said Herrick after apause.

  She did not answer at once. She saw again the man kneeling to her inthe hut, and again that night when Felix had broken in upon them.Had he kneeled to her now, she might have relented.

  _She sank into a chair._]

  "Less than nothing," she said slowly after a pause.

  Herrick's face hardened. In his heart was love, passionate longing,and the madness of desire, but he suppressed all outward sign of thetempest that raged within him.

  "I had built much on your friendship, mademoiselle," he said quietly,"I had even dared to hope that my love had touched an answering chordin your heart. I little thought to stand alone in my love for thisland of ours."

  "Ours!"

  "Truly its ruin cannot hurt you much since you care for it so little.Could I leave it, and all that belongs to it, I would do so, for Ihave learned hard lessons in it."

  "You have reached your ambition," she said.

  "Have I? I believed in a woman's trust, and I have awakened from adream. I will trouble you no more. The times demand the Duke; RogerHerrick ceases to exist. The Duke lives to hold Montvilliers againsther enemies. Roger Herrick was a poor fool who loved and trusted you,mademoiselle."
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br />   He turned, and left her, the door closing heavily behind him. For amoment Christine stood where she was, angry, defiant, then she sankinto a chair, and sobbed. Wounded pride, disappointment, loneliness,and love were in her tears.

  "If he were only Roger Herrick and no Duke," she said, "I could haveloved, I would have done all that he-- But he shall suffer. I havepower, and right is on my side. He has defied the law, why should notI? The people would make me Duchess. Why should I not wear the crown?"

  And then she rose quickly, stepping back into the shadows, as thedoor opened again. She thought Herrick was returning, and she wouldnot have him see her tears. It was not Herrick, it was FatherBertrand.

  "Did your master send you to me?" she asked.

  "Mademoiselle, I have no masters but the Church and my conscience."

  She laughed, dashing the last tears from her eyes.

  "The Duke you have helped to make should reward you well."

  "Even a priest may be mistaken, mademoiselle," Father Bertrand saidslowly. "I came to talk to you about the Duke. Already they do notlove him in Vayenne."

  "And you, father?"

  The priest went to the door, opened it quickly to surprise anylistener there might be, then closed it again, and stepped toChristine's side.

  "His friends were chiefly his friends because of you, mademoiselle.They thought you believed in Roger Herrick, that he had your support.At your word Vayenne would rise to-morrow."

  Christine did not answer for a moment. Her power suddenly frightenedher. Then she said slowly:

  "I will listen attentively to all you have to say, Father Bertrand.You find me a prisoner and in the mood to be rebellious."

  And the room grew dark as the priest talked, yet she did not call forlights.