The Second G.A. Henty

by G. A. Henty

  “I was not exchanged, madam. I succeeded in effecting my escape from the fortress of Ingoldstadt.”

  “You seem born to have adventures, monsieur,” the queen said. “We heard before of your regiment performing prodigies of valour at Freiburg, and of withstanding Merci’s whole army, foot and horse, for three hours. Last winter the governor of Lorraine reported that you and a company of your regiment from Nancy had defeated a great body of insurgent peasants, and had rescued Madame de Blenfoix and her daughter from massacre at their hands. There is no officer under the rank of general whose name has been so frequently brought under our notice. You intend to make some stay in Paris, I hope?”

  “I shall do myself the honour later on, your majesty; but I hear that there are peasant troubles down in Poitou, and as I only paid a visit of a few days there, when your majesty had the goodness to present the fief to me, I am anxious to know how matters are going on, and to see that my castle is secure from attack by the insurgents.”

  “Your excuse is a good one. It would be well if more possessors of estates would spend their time in endeavouring to alleviate the condition of their people, instead of wasting their time and money in Paris.”

  “Monsieur de Villar took steps in that direction, your majesty, before leaving for the war; for my agents, who keep me informed of most things that take place, acquainted me with the fact that Monsieur de Villar entirely remitted the usual fines on taking possession, and reduced the annual payment of his tenants by one half until times should mend.”

  “A noble example!” the queen said warmly. “I would that we could afford to do the same through all the royal domains. It is a pleasure to us to know that one at least of our fiefs has been so worthily bestowed. Well, sir, I shall see you at the court this evening.”

  Hector bowed and withdrew. His first step was to go to the clothing establishment most frequented by men of good family. “I have to attend at the court this evening. I have just returned from the army, and have but the clothes that I stand up in. Have you any garments that will fit me suitable for such an occasion?”

  “Of shoulder cloaks I have great store in silks, satins, and velvets of all shades and colours. There is no difficulty about doublets, for of these I always keep a large stock in hand; and although you are a bigger man than the majority of my customers, I think that I can suit you. Tight pantaloons are chiefly worn by those who affect the latest fashion, but it would be impossible for me to make these at such short notice. As you are a military man this matters little, for these chiefly affect loose breeches trimmed at the bottom with rich lace, stockings of silk, and shoes with rosettes. Such breeches I could promise you in three hours, for they require but little making. The stockings of all shades I have in stock, also shoes. These would need but rosettes of the colour to suit the dress, to be added to them.”

  “I put myself in your hands,” Hector said. “I wish for a handsome dress, and yet one which shall in no way be foppish, but shall be suitable to my station. I am Baron de la Villar, colonel of the Poitou regiment of infantry.”

  “Do you incline to silk, velvet, or satin? I should say a velvet cloak and satin tunic and breeches would suit you best with your fair hair. I should choose for the cloak a crimson or violet, and for the doublet and breeches a yellow. If you would prefer a blue cloak I should say a white satin doublet and breeches would become you.”

  Hector shook his head. “No, I should prefer the first mixture. I care not whether the cloak is crimson or violet.”

  “I think violet, monsieur, and rosettes of the same colour on your shoes. It were best, I think, that the stockings should match the doublet. You will, of course, have a pointed lace collar for your cloak, and at the bottom of your breeches and at your wrists to match. I think, sir, that a large collar and gold embroidery would go best with the costume.”

  Hector nodded. “I leave it entirely to you, Master Poitrou, so that everything is ready in time for me to wear them. I also want a travelling suit of good fashion—I leave the matter of colour to you—and also a suit for wearing here in Paris.”

  The cloak and doublets were speedily chosen, as M. Poitrou had several of the colour and material in stock. Hector was then measured for the breeches, which were of the fashion now known as knickerbockers, but somewhat looser. He then chose a violet cap with a yellow feather to match the court dress, a court sword, high riding boots, and loose turned-over boots used for walking, but left all other matters to the tailor.

  “When your man brings the things to me at the auberge Pome d’Or I will pay him at once,” he said. He was indeed well supplied with funds, for as he passed through Nancy he had drawn the sums standing to his credit from an agent there, to whom he had, as occasion offered, transmitted the greater portion of his pay, and also the balance of the sum that had been paid him when he first took possession of his estate, after paying for the various expenses he had incurred in St. Denis and in Paris. Monsieur Poitrou was faithful to his promise, and although free from vanity, Hector could not but perceive, after he had donned his court suit, that he made a good figure. Such, indeed, was the opinion of not a few of the ladies of the court as he entered the great reception room.

  He had now adopted the general fashion, and wore his hair in ringlets hanging down on to the collar. His fair complexion contrasted strongly with the much darker one of the majority of the courtiers, and this, as well as his height and erect soldierly bearing, rendered him a conspicuous object among them. The queen and cardinal both honoured him with marked attention; but what pleased him most during the evening was the hearty greeting that he received from Colonel Maclvor, of whom he had seen but little during the campaign, as the Scottish regiment formed part of Enghien’s command, and was not present at the battle of Nordlingen, being left in garrison at Metz when the duke marched to join Turenne. Mazarin himself presented him to many of the ladies of the court, thereby showing that he wished him to be regarded as a particular friend of his; and Hector, having gained much in self possession since he had last appeared there, was able to make himself more agreeable to them than before, to bandy compliments, and adapt himself to the general atmosphere of the court. The cardinal sent for him again the next morning.

  “The news is bad from Poitou, Colonel Campbell, and I think that it would be well that you should proceed there at once. So we will release you from further attendance, and you can make up for it by giving us a longer time on your return.”

  Hector, however, tarried two days longer in Paris, by which time he had received all the clothes that he had ordered. Early on the morning of the third day he mounted and rode away with Paolo and three of his troopers. Hunter had been left behind at Philippsburg for the cure of a wound that he had received at Nordlingen. Hector was mounted on one of the horses that Enghien had given him; the other was in the hands of the Imperialists. They traveled fast, and met with no adventure until they arrived at Poitou, where Hector learned that in the western part of the province the peasants had almost everywhere risen, had defeated the royal troops who had marched against them from La Rochelle and Nantes, and had captured and burnt any chateaux, slaying all persons of the better class who fell into their hands.

  As he neared his own estate, learning that the tenants there had so far not joined the rising, but that several bodies of insurgents were in the neighbourhood, he rode still more rapidly forward. Signs of the trouble were everywhere apparent. In the villages only women were to be seen; there was no sign of life or movement in the fields; and he passed two chateaux which were now but empty shells. As soon as he had crossed into his own estates he found the houses entirely deserted; no man, woman, nor child was to be seen; no animals grazed in the fields, and the little stacks of hay and straw had been carried away.

  “It is evident,” he said to Paolo, “that MacIntosh has called all the tenantry into the chateau; had they joined the insurgents the women and children would still be here.”

  As they ascended the steep hill on whose brow the
chateau stood, he could make out that there were a number of men posted upon the walls.

  “He is evidently determined that he will not be caught napping, Paolo, and all the peasants of Poitou could not take the place unless they were well provided with cannon.”

  The chateau, indeed, still retained the characteristics of a castle. The site had evidently been selected with a sole eye to defence; the hill on which it stood fell abruptly away on three sides, and could hardly be attacked except in front. Here a plateau extended some three or four hundred yards long and upwards of a hundred yards across. A wall with flanking turrets had been a sufficient defence on the other three sides, but here there was a strong tower on each flank, and also on each side of the central gate. The walls inclosed a space of some two acres, in the centre of which stood the castle. This had been to some extent modernized—windows having taken the place of loopholes in the upper floors, while those looking into the inner courtyard extended to the ground. The point where the road reached the plateau was some three hundred yards from the gateway, and as Hector galloped towards the walls it was evident that he was recognized, for shouts were raised by the men on guard and the drawbridge over the fosse—cut in the solid rock along the foot of the wall—was lowered.

  As he rode across it the gate swung open and MacIntosh ran out to meet him.

  “Is all well, old friend?” Hector asked as he sprang from his horse and clasped the sergeant’s hand.

  “All is well so far, colonel; still, I am glad indeed that you have returned, for at any moment trouble may begin. We hear that the peasants mean to attack us. I hardly think they will venture to do so, but I have no doubt they will play havoc on the estate and burn every house, because the tenants, instead of joining them, have come up here to aid in the defence. It was a good day indeed when madam and her daughter came here, they have made themselves so loved by the tenants that they would do anything for them. Ah, if all the ladies of France had been as good to their people as they have been, we should not have these troubles on hand! Here they come to welcome you.”

  Hector hurried across the outer court, where two lines of palings had been erected, forming a passage from one gate to the other, and keeping back the animals that crowded the enclosure.

  “Welcome back, welcome back, Colonel Campbell!” the baroness said as she came up with both hands extended, and her words were echoed by her daughter. In the year that had elapsed since they started under the charge of Paolo both had changed. The look of care and anxiety, which had been heightened by the terrible events of the two previous days, had passed from the elder lady’s face, and had been succeeded by one of contentment and happiness.

  Norah showed an even greater change; she had now attained her full height, her figure had filled out, and she stood on the threshold of womanhood and bid fair to attain a high degree of beauty of the type characteristic of her nationality. Her hair was dark, her eyes gray, her expression changing rapidly from grave to gay, the latter movement generally predominating.

  “I need hardly ask, madam,” Hector said as they entered the chateau, “whether you have been comfortable here, for your face shows that you have at least been contented with your lot as chatelaine.”

  “I have been more than contented, I have been very happy, Monsieur Campbell. It has been a pleasant task indeed to be your almoner, and to be able to carry comfort to those in distress, sympathy and aid to those in suffering. Within the castle, nothing could be more pleasant than our position. Captain MacIntosh has been unwearied in his efforts to make us comfortable, and your steward has in all cases been willing to aid me with money and counsel when I asked for them. The proof that your goodness has been appreciated by the tenants is that every one of them without exception has refused to join the insurgents, and has forsaken his home in order to come up and aid in the defence of the castle.”

  “That is indeed gratifying, madam; but methinks their action is due rather to the kindness of yourself and Mademoiselle Norah, than to the gifts they receive.”

  “I do not choose to be called Mademoiselle Norah,” the girl said, tossing her head. “I am Irish on both sides, and have not a drop of French blood in my veins. To strangers I am Miss Norah O’More; to you, and to any I may love, I am plain Norah.”

  “I don’t think that you can be that to anyone, Norah.”

  “Now I don’t like that, Colonel Campbell. That may do at the court of Louis XIV, but not at the chateau of la Villar, and if you are going to pay compliments I shall be stiff and unpleasant, and shall insist upon being addressed as Miss Norah O’More.”

  “As I did not mean to compliment you, for I spoke but the truth, I shall not accept the penalty. Now,” he went on, “unromantic as it may sound, I own that I am hungry, and I am sure that my four followers are also, for we have ridden far and fast, and have not stopped, save to bait our horses and snatch a mouthful while they ate, since daybreak. In truth the news we received made me sorely anxious, though I felt sure that MacIntosh could hold the chateau against any attack that was likely to be made on it.”

  CHAPTER XIX

  THE PEASANTS’ REVOLT

  After eating a meal Hector had a talk aside with MacIntosh.

  “Do you really think that these varlets will venture to attack us?”

  “I do indeed,” the old sergeant said. “They have taken several places as strong as this by sudden assault. They are desperate, and, as I hear, fight like demons, regardless as to how many fall. As far as stout arms go we are well supplied, for there are at least a hundred men capable of bearing arms, and all have had more or less drill since I have been here. Unfortunately, however, our wall pieces are old and scarce fit for service, several of them will, I feel sure, burst at the first discharge.”

  “But they have no artillery at all, MacIntosh?”

  “I am sorry to say that they have, sir, and a good amount of it. They captured ten field pieces when they defeated the troops, and have obtained a score of others from the chateaux that they have taken. They have only to plant them three or four hundred yards away at the end of the plateau, and they would easily batter down the gates, and might even in time effect a breach in the walls.”

  “That is serious indeed, MacIntosh. Is there any other way in which they can attack us save in front?”

  “I think not. I was careful to examine the face of the precipice when I first took command here, and wherever it seemed to me that an active man could climb up I had portions of the rock blown up, and have so scarped the face that I do not think it is scalable by human foot. But there is nothing to prevent their crossing the fosse on a dark night, and so stealing along and making an attack on all sides of the house.”

  “Then our first care must be to prevent this, MacIntosh, by building walls along by the fosse from the corner towers to the edge of the plateau. The distance is very short, not more than eight or ten yards at the outside. We have, I see, any number of horses and not a few carts. Let the tenants be set to work at once, and, going down the road into the ravine below, fill their carts with blocks of stone and haul them up here. Let active boys be sent out in all directions as scouts to bring in word when the insurgents are approaching; and at the same time let twenty well armed men of the garrison go down with the carts, so as to give confidence to the tenants and cover their retreat up the road if the insurgents should suddenly make their appearance. Let some of the men take billhooks and axes down with them, and cut poles. These must be sharpened, and as the walls are built, fixed among the stones so as to make a cheval-de-frise. At the same time let half a dozen stout ladders be constructed, so that the defenders of these walls may, if unable to hold them, make their retreat up to the battlements. I wish now that I had ordered a strong bastion to be thrown up so as to cover the gate from an attack by artillery, but it did not seem likely that we should be besieged by any force having guns, and I let the matter remain until the tenants should be better off and we could spend our money on such work. However, it is too late now to
think of that. I suppose there is a portcullis to the gate?”

  “Yes, and I got it in good working order when I first came here; but the cannon would speedily shatter that, as well as the bridge drawn up in front of it and the gate behind it.”

  “Then as I have no doubt that there are plenty of flour sacks, we must fill these with earth and pack them between the bridge and the portcullis, and fasten the bridge in its place with any chains that may be available, so that it will keep erect. The earth packing, however much it may be battered, will protect the portcullis of the gate for some time against their fire.”

  “It is a good idea if we have time to carry it out, colonel. We have still four or five hours’ daylight, and as I think that this is of even greater importance than the side walls, we will set the tenants to work at once, and it will save time if they take down the sacks, of which, as you say, we have an abundance.”

  A few minutes later a dozen active boys left the castle, and scattered to various points on the hills around, so as to command a view over a considerable extent of country. Soon after, some thirty carts went down the road accompanied by a number of men with shovels, and twenty of the garrison commanded by one of the old soldiers. All returned loaded with sacks of earth; these were taken into the castle, when the portcullis was lowered and the drawbridge across the fosse raised. An opening was left on the top to allow the sacks to be lowered into the space between the bridge and the portcullis. A score of men with ropes went on to the wall above and lowered them behind the drawbridge, where five or six men stowed them away. As soon as it became dark torches were lighted, and by ten o’clock a solid mass of sacks filled with earth were packed in the space between the portcullis and the drawbridge.

  The night passed off quietly, the horses and carts remaining beyond the fosse. Planks had been placed across one end of this, and the horses and carts taken over. The horses were picketed round the castle, a supply of forage being placed there for their use, while the carts were packed closely by the fosse, so as to form an obstacle to any of the assailants who might try to pass. At daybreak they were again run across the planks, the horses brought round and harnessed, the scouts being sent out as on the day before. All day the work went on, and by nightfall two walls twenty feet long and eight feet high, bristling with pointed staves, were erected. They stood some twenty feet back from the edge of the fosse, and extended from the wall to the verge of the precipice. The carts and horses had, before the walls were built, been taken round to the back of the castle, where the plateau extended some fifty yards beyond the defences. Evening was just coming on when the boys came in, two of them bringing a report that a great crowd of men could be seen approaching from the west.