Leonora D'Orco: A Historical Romance

by G. P. R. James

  CHAPTER XXXIV.

  Lorenzo Visconti rode along but slenderly accompanied. A fewattendants and one or two pack-horses formed all the train whichfollowed him. A carelessness had come over him, not only of alldisplay, but of life and all things that life could give. He rode, asDe Vitry had described, at headlong speed. It seemed as if he wereflying from something--perhaps from bitterly contrasted memories; but,as ever, black care sat behind the horseman, and no furious ridingcould shake him off. His eyes were fixed upon the ground, but he sawnot loose stone or slippery rock, and never marked the heavy cloudswhich, having ravaged the valley of the Isere, were now rising overthe hills upon his left, and threatening to pour down their fury uponhim.

  Grave and, for him, strangely sad, Antonio was following close behindhim, watching with eager anxiety the obstructions in his master's way,and marking also the coming tempest. "My lord," he said, at length,with a somewhat hesitating voice, "were it not better to seek someshelter and to ride more slowly?"

  "Why?" asked Lorenzo; "the road is good."

  "Because, my lord," replied the man, "if we do not seek some shelterwe shall be half drowned in ten minutes, and if we ride so hard,though you may go safe, we worse mounted men will break both our necksand our horses' knees, as soon as the sun sets, which will be in aquarter of an hour."

  Lorenzo drew in his rein; but the only word he spoke was "Well?"

  "We just passed a handsome chateau, my lord," urged Antonio, "and I amsure they will give you ready welcome there, if you like to rest therefor the night."

  "Whose chateau is it?" inquired his lord, with no great signs ofinterest.

  "Is it that of Madame de Chaumont?" replied Antonio. "Do you notremember her and her beautiful daughter at the court last year? Theywere very fond of your society, and will gladly receive you, I willwarrant."

  "Yes, she is very beautiful," said Lorenzo, carelessly, "but light asvanity: what woman is not? But I cannot stay tonight, my good Antonio.My cousin and her husband expect me, and I must on."

  "But you will never be able to pass the Isere, my lord," said Antonio;"that cloud has left half its burden there, depend upon it. Do you notremember how the river rises in an hour? I will wager a crown to acoronet there is ten feet of water on the bridge by this time. Buthere come the drops, and we shall have water and fire too enoughbefore we have done. I have a hideous cold, my lord, and cold bathingis not good for me."

  Lorenzo turned towards him with a cynical smile; but, before he couldreply, there was a gay, ringing laugh came up from the gorge intowhich they were just descending, and two ladies, followed by severalservants, some with falcons on their hands, some carrying dead gameacross their saddles, came cantering up. They glanced towards Lorenzoas they approached, and, at first did not seem to recognize him; butthe next moment the younger exclaimed, "Dear mother, it is the youngSeigneur Visconti. Give you good day, my lord--give you good day. Wecannot stay to greet you; but turn your horse and ride back with us,for the roof of our chateau is a better covering for your head thanyonder black cloud. Mother, make him come."

  Lorenzo carelessly turned his horse as the gay and beautiful girlspoke, and a few words of common courtesy passed between him and theMarquis de Chaumont. But Eloise de Chaumont would have her part in theconversation, and she exclaimed, "Come, Seigneur Visconti, put spursto your steed and show your horsemanship. I am going home at fullgallop, otherwise the plumes in my beaver will be as draggled as thoseof the poor heron that my bird struck in the river. The haggard kitewould not wait for him to tower. On! on! I will bet you my lastembroidered hawking-glove against an old gauntlet that my jennetreaches the castle first." Thus saying, she applied the whip somewhatunmercifully to her horse, and Lorenzo put spurs to his. The race wasnot very equal, for Lorenzo's hackney was tired with a long journeyand hard riding; but still the young knight kept up side by side withhis fair companion till they came to a narrow pass between a highcliff and a deep dell, where Lorenzo somewhat drew in the rein toleave the lady better room.

  "Ay," she exclaimed, "I shall beat you. See, your horse is out ofbreath. Spur up, spur up, or the day is mine."

  Whether Lorenzo did imprudently use the spur, or that the horse shiedat something on the way, I do not know, but in trying to regain hisplace by the lady's side the hackney (as lighter horses were thencalled) swerved from the centre of the road and trod upon the loosestones at the side. They gave way beneath his feet and went rattlingdown into the glen, while the lightning flashed and the thunder rolledaround. The gallant beast made a strong effort to recover his footing,but it was in vain; the ground yielded beneath his hoofs, and he felldown the slope, rolling over his master as he went.

  "Jesu Maria!" cried Eloise de Chaumont, with a scream, "I have killedhim."

  That he was killed seemed for several minutes true, for he lay withoutsense or motion. Antonio and several of the servants scrambled downand raised the young lord's head, but he lay senseless still. Eloisehad bounded from her jennet and stood wringing her hands upon thebrink, and even Madame de Chaumont stayed for several minutes gazingdown; but at length the rain became too heavy for her patience, andshe said, "We can do no good here, Eloise. Let them carry him up tothe chateau. We shall only get cold and spoil all our housings. Mark,look to that bird: its hood is all awry. Come, my child, come;" and,without waiting for reply, she rode on.

  Eloise remained, however, not doing much good, it is true, but atleast showing sympathy; and at length Lorenzo was raised, and withdifficulty brought up to the road again. A deep groan as they carriedhim told that life was not yet extinct, and the rain falling in hisface revived him as three of the servants carried him in their armstowards the chateau. When he opened his eyes Eloise de Chaumont waswalking by his side, weeping, and, as soon as memory of all that hadoccurred came back, he said, with a great effort, "I am not much hurt,I believe. Do not grieve, dear lady."

  "O you are--you are, Lorenzo," she cried, "and I did it, foolish,wicked girl that I am. But do not speak. We shall soon be at thechateau. Ride, Guillaume, ride to the priest of St. Servan--he knowsall about chirurgy--bid him come up at all speed. Give the jennet toJean Graille. Ride on, I say, and be quick. Oh, Seigneur Visconti, Iam so sorry for my folly."

  In a few minutes Lorenzo was borne into the chateau, and carried to achamber, where, stretched upon a bed, he waited the arrival of thepriest. But Eloise de Chaumont would not leave him, notwithstandingseveral messages from her mother. With her own hands she wiped theearth from his brow; with her own hands she gave him water to drink,and more than ever she called him Lorenzo, bringing back to the younglord's mind a suspicion which he had once entertained, but speedilydismissed as a vain fancy, that Eloise de Chaumont viewed him withmore favour than most others at a court where she was universallysought and admired.

  It skills not to dwell upon the tedious process of a long sickness anda slow recovery. Madame de Chaumont, a lady of a light and selfishcharacter, though not fond of witnessing suffering, visited Lorenzoreligiously once every day. Eloise de Chaumont, never accustomed torestraint in anything, was in his chamber morning, noon, and night. Inhis sickness she regarded him as a pet bird, or a favourite horse;and, to say sooth, it would seem there were other feelings too, forone time when he was sleeping he was wakened by the touch of her lipsupon his brow. Guests came and went at the chateau, but their presencemade no change in her conduct. When Mademoiselle de Chaumont was askedfor, the reply was, usually, "She is in the Seigneur de Visconti'schamber;" and people began to wonder and to talk.

  The circles made on the clear bosom of the waters by a pebble castinto them differ in this from those produced by the spread of rumour;in the one case they become more and more faint in proportion to theirdistance from the centre; in the other, they are not only extended,but deepened. The gossip of the neighbouring chateaux spread to theneighbouring towns, thence to wider circles still. They reached thechateau of De Vitry, and they reached the court, and many acircumstance was added which had never existed. Blanche Marie a
nd DeVitry rejoiced, for they hoped that the tendance of Eloise de Chaumontmight not only aid to cure Lorenzo from mere physical evils, but toapply still more efficacious remedies to his mind. She was young, shewas beautiful, she was wealthy, the only child left by one of thefirst nobles in the land; and there seemed all the frankness andfreedom of innocence about her, with a kindly heart, and a mind whichwas brilliant, if not strong. They rode over together to see theiryoung cousin, and Blanche Marie was charmed with all she saw. She knewnot how dangerous it is to give way to impulses where feelings are notbacked by principles. She thought Eloise one provided by Heaven towean Lorenzo from the memory of another more dear, whom she believedto be unworthy of him.

  At the court of the King of France--the lawful guardian of the youngheiress--the rumours of what was taking place at Chaumont producedsome agitation. Eloise was a special favourite of sweet Anne ofBrittany, and the queen was vexed and alarmed. Men are not so easilyaffected by scandal as women, and the king laughed at what had grievedhis wife. "My life for it," he said, "this matter will be easilyexplained. My young cousin Lorenzo is not one to peril a lady'sreputation, and if he has done so he must make reparation. We willsend for him, however, my dear lady."

  When the king's letter arrived, requiring in kindly terms Lorenzo'spresence at Amboise, that young nobleman, though able to rise from hisbed, was by no means sufficiently recovered to take a long journey, oreven to mount his horse. He assured the king in his reply, however,that the moment he could ride he would get out on the journey; and, totell the truth, he longed not a little to leave the castle atChaumont. He himself felt that his residence there was becomingsomewhat dangerous to him. The memory of Leonora could not be banishedfrom his mind. Disappointment, indignation, and even a certain feelingof contempt, which the indifference he believed her to have shown hadgenerated, could not extinguish entirely that first-born, fairy love,which, once it has possession of the heart, rarely goes out entirely.But yet Eloise de Chaumont was, as the poet says, "beautifulexceedingly"--of a very different character from Leonora, more fair,more laughing, with less soul in the look, less depth and intensity ofmind in the eyes, but still very beautiful. A sort of intimacy too, ofa nature difficult to describe, had sprung up during her longattendance upon him; they called each other by their Christian names,and, although no word of love had ever passed between them, it wasevident to everyone around that Eloise, knowing that her lovelinessand wealth gave her the choice of almost any man in France, lookedupon Lorenzo as her own, and would have been as much surprised asgrieved to think there was a doubt of her becoming his wife.

  Lorenzo, for his part, could not but be grateful, could not butadmire. One thing, however, proved that he did not love--he saw in hermany faults. He wished she was not so light, so frivolous. He wishedhe could see some indications of firm character and steadfastprinciples. "And yet," he thought, "Where I believed they most existedthey were the most wanting. What matters it to me whom I wed now? IfEloise can love me, that amounts to the utmost sum of happiness I cannow hope for."

  Nevertheless, when, at the end of another fortnight, he mounted hishorse to proceed to Amboise, not a word had passed to bind him to herwho had nursed him so kindly.

  "When will you be back, Lorenzo?" asked Eloise, as she gave him hercheek to kiss at parting.

  "I know not what the king wishes," replied Lorenzo, "or how long hemay detain me--not long, I hope."

  Those words bound him to nothing in the common eye of the world; but,as he pondered them while riding on his way, he felt that they implieda promise to return as soon as the king left him free to do so. Andyet he hesitated, and yet he doubted, and yet he asked himself, "Canshe make my happiness, or can I make hers?"

  "It is well to be off with the old love Before we are on with the new,"

  says an old song, and Lorenzo had reason to regret that he did notapply the maxim it contains to his own heart.

  After traversing one half of France, and at Blois increasing hisretinue by a number of his servants from Paris, he rode on to fairAmboise, where the king was then engaged in erecting those splendidbuildings which since his day have been the scene of so many tragicalevents. He arrived at the castle early in the morning, and wasimmediately admitted to Charles's presence. The monarch received himkindly, saying,

  "So, my good cousin, you have come at length; your illness must havebeen severe and tedious. What was its nature?"

  "Some broken bones, may it please your Majesty, and a body all bruisedand shaken by my horse falling down a hill and rolling over me,"replied Lorenzo.

  "By my faith! it does not please my Majesty at all," said the king,laughing. "Odds life! dear Lorenzo, if your horse had served you so atFornovo, I should have been at the tender mercies of the Venetians,most likely. But they tell me you found consolation in a fair lady'ssociety, and had plenty of it."

  "Mademoiselle de Chaumont attended me most kindly, and gave me as muchof her time as she could spare," replied Lorenzo, gravely.

  "She gave you a little of her reputation too, I am told," answered theking, "and this is a subject on which I must speak to you seriously,my cousin. You are perhaps not aware that idle and malicious tongueshave been busy with your name and that of Eloise de Chaumont. They saythat she would pass more than one half the night in your chamber."

  The angry blood rushed up into Lorenzo's face, but he answered atfirst scoffingly. "If she did, sire, it must have been when I wasinsensible to the honour," said Lorenzo; but he added, in a sternertone, "in short, my lord the king, he who said so is a liar, and Iwill prove it on his body with my lance."

  "There is an easier manner to clear the young lady's reputation,"replied Charles, "for cleared, of course, it must be. She is a ward ofthe crown. Her father was one of our best subjects and most faithfulfriends, and your own station and fortune, as well as our affectionfor you, render you, of all others, the man on whom we should wish tobestow her hand. But, my dear cousin," he continued, in a lightertone, "there was, if I remember right, a fair lady in Italy whoseknight you were when we were there?"

  Lorenzo winced as if a serpent had stung him.

  "She is nothing to me, my lord, nor I to her," he said; "her own willhas severed every bond between us."

  "Then there is no impediment," said the king, "to your marriage toMademoiselle de Chaumont?"

  "None whatever that I know of, sire," replied Lorenzo.

  "And you promise me, whatever may happen to myself," said Charles,"that you will heal this little scandal, produced by her greatkindness to yourself, by making her your wife as speedily as may be?"

  "If she will accept my hand," replied Lorenzo, "of which as yet I knownothing; for no one word of love has ever passed between us; but Godforbid that any evil chance should befall your Majesty, as your wordsseem to anticipate."

  "Who can tell?" said the king in a gloomy tone. "Of four children mydear Anne has given me, not one remains alive; they have perished intheir beauty and their bloom. Why should I not perish with them? Thisworld is full of accidents and dangers, and we walk continually withinthe shadow of death. My thoughts have been very gloomy lately, my goodcousin," and he laid his hand affectionately on Lorenzo's shoulder;"and yet what matters it," he continued, "whether it be to-day,to-morrow, or the next day? Stretch life out as long as we can, it isbut a span at last. However, it is well, in this uncertainty of being,to delay not one hour anything that may be ruined by delay. I willhave the royal consent to your marriage with the ward of the crowndrawn out this morning. Come to me towards the hour of three, and itshall be ready for you. The queen will then receive you moregraciously, when I have told her all, than she might do now."

  When Lorenzo returned at the hour appointed, he was conducted intothat beautiful hall still to be seen at Amboise, where he found theking, the queen, and several attendants, apparently ready to go forth.Anne of Brittany did receive him most graciously; and Charles handedhim the paper authorizing his immediate marriage with Eloise deChaumont.

  "We shal
l but give you time to bait your horses, Seigneur Visconti,"said the Queen of France, "and then send you back to your fair bride.No stain must rest upon a lady's reputation long; and though this bebut the work of evil tongues, without a shadow of foundation for thescandal, the sooner they are silenced the better. We are now going outby the old postern into the fosse to see a game of tennis played, inwhich, perchance, my lord may take part. We invite you to go with us,that all the world may see we give no credit to these wild rumours."

  One of the chamberlains hastened to open the door of the hall, and theroyal party passed out, followed by Lorenzo and the attendants. Theytook their way through the great marble hall below, and through along, narrow corridor or passage in the thick wall of the castle. Itwas terminated by a low-browed, stone archway, with an oaken door, inpassing through which Charles, miscalculating its height, struck hishead violently against the arch, and would have fallen had he not beencaught by Lorenzo, who came close behind.

  For a moment or two the king seemed confused and almost stunned; butthe accident he had met with was so commonplace and apparentlyinsignificant that nobody took much notice of it. The ladies whofollowed the queen were inclined to smile, and Charles himself treatedit more lightly than any one. He pressed his hand, it is true, once ortwice upon the top of his head, and took off his bonnet for the coolair, but he declared it was "nothing--a mere nothing."

  A paleness had spread over the young monarch's face, however, whichLorenzo Visconti did not like; but the royal party were soon in thedry deep fosse, and the memorable _jeu de paume_ began.

  Charles prided himself upon his skill in all manly exercises, andafter looking on for a time, he took a racket, and joined in the game.He was, or he was suffered to appear, the best player present; butafter he had played one score he gave up the racket, and withdrew fromthe game, remaining for a short while as a spectator; and Lorenzoremarked that, as the king stood looking on, he twice pressed his handupon his heart. At length he turned to the queen, and the rest of theparty who had accompanied him thither, and proposed to return into thecastle, adding a few words to Lorenzo on his approaching marriage. Theyoung nobleman walked nearly by his side, but a little behind, and allpassed the postern, and entered the narrow gallery or corridor, stilltalking. When they had nearly reached a flight of steps which led tothe halls above, the king turned suddenly towards Lorenzo, saying,"Remember," and then fell at once upon the pavement.

  A scene of indescribable confusion followed. Some of the attendantsraised the monarch to carry him up the stairs, but the chiefchamberlain forbade them to move him till a physician should becalled. Some cushions were brought to support his head, and speedily anumber of fresh faces crowded the passage; but the king remainedwithout consciousness. Some broken words fell from his lips, but noone could discover what they meant, and, after a short struggle withdeath, Charles VIII. passed away, beloved and mourned rather thanrespected.