Henry of Guise Volume Ii Part 6

"It was that I wished you to guard against," replied the Abbe. "Had you appeared less to seek, you would have been sought rather than avoided. It may be true, Gaspar, what authors have said, that a woman, like some animals of the chase, takes a pleasure in being pursued; but depend upon it, if she do so, she puts forth all her speed to insure herself against being caught. Unless you are very sure of your own speed and strength, you had better steal quietly onward, lest you frighten the deer. Had she heard much from my lips, and from those of her good but weak friend Madame de Saulny, of your high qualities, and of all those traits in your nature calculated to captivate and attract such a being as herself, while you seemed indifferent and somewhat cool withal, every thing--good that is in her nature would have joined with every thing that is less good--the love of high qualities and of manly daring would have combined with vanity and caprice to make her seek you, excite your attention, and court your love."

"I have never yet seen in her," said the young Marquis, "either vanity or caprice; and besides, good friend, such things to me at least are not matters of mere calculation. I act upon impulses that I cannot resist. Mine are feelings, not reasonings: I follow where they lead me, and even in the pursuit acquire intense pleasure that no reasoning could give."

"True," replied the Abbe, bending down his head and answering thoughtfully. "There is a great difference between your age and mine, Gaspar. You are at the age of pa.s.sions, and at that period of their sway when they defeat themselves by their own intensity. I had thought, however, that my lessons might have taught you, my counsel might have shown you, that with any great object in view it is necessary to moderate even pa.s.sion in the course, in order to succeed in the end."

"But there is joy in the course also," exclaimed Gaspar de Montsoreau.

"Think you, Abbe, that even if it were possible to win the woman we love by another's voice, we could lose the joy of winning her for ourselves--the great, the transcendant joy of struggling for her affection, even though it were against her coldness, her indifference, or her anger?"

"I think, Gaspar," replied the Abbe, "that if to a heart const.i.tuted as yours is, there be added a mind of equal power, nothing--not even the strongest self-denial--will be impossible for the object of winning her you love. But I am not a good judge of such matters," he continued with a slight smile curling his lip--a smile not altogether without pride. "I am no judge of such matters. The profession which I have chosen, and followed to a certain point, excludes them from my consideration. All I wish to do in the present instance is to warn you, Gaspar, against your own impetuosity in dealing with this Villequier. Be warned against that man! be careful! Promise him nothing; commit yourself absolutely to nothing, unless upon good and sufficient proof that he too deals sincerely with you. He is not one to be trusted, Gaspar, even in the slightest of things; and promise me not to commit yourself with him in any respect whatsoever."

"Oh, fear not, fear not," replied the Marquis. "In this respect at least, good friend, no pa.s.sions hurry me on. Here I can deal calmly and tranquilly, because, though the end is the same, I have nothing but art to encounter, which may always be encountered by reason. When I am with her, Abbe, it is the continual strife of pa.s.sion that I have to fear; at every word, at every action, I have to be upon my guard; and reason, like a solitary sentinel upon the walls of a city attacked on every side, opposes the foes in vain at one point, while they pour in upon a thousand others."

While he was yet speaking, a servant with a noiseless foot entered the room, and in a low sweet tone informed the Marquis, that Monsieur de Villequier had just returned from Vincennes, and desired earnestly to speak with him, for a moment, _alone_ in his own cabinet. The word "alone" was p.r.o.nounced more loud than any other, though the whole was low and tuneful; for Villequier used to declare that he loved to have servants with feet like cats and voices like nightingales.

The Abbe marked that word distinctly, and was too wise to make the slightest attempt to accompany his former pupil. The Marquis, however, did not remark it; and, perhaps a little fearful of his own firmness and skill, asked his friend to accompany him. But the Abbe instantly declined. "No, Gaspar," he said, "no; it were better that you should see Monsieur Villequier alone. I will wait for you here;" and, turning to the table, he took up an illuminated psalter, and examined the miniatures with as close and careful an eye as if he had been deeply interested in the labours of the artist.

He saw not a line which had there been drawn; but after the Marquis had followed the servant from the room he muttered to himself, "So, Monsieur de Villequier, you think that I am a mean man, who may be over-reached with impunity and ease? You know me not yet, but you shall know me, and that soon." And laying down the psalter, he took up another book of a character more suited to his mind at the moment, and read calmly till his young friend returned, which was not for near an hour.

In the mean time the Marquis had proceeded to the cabinet of Villequier, who, the moment he saw him, rose from the chair in which he had been seated busily writing, and pressed him warmly by the hand.

"My dear young friend," he said, "one learns to love the more those in whose cause one suffers something; and, since I saw you, I have had to fight your battle manfully."

"Indeed! and may I ask, my Lord, with whom?" demanded the young Marquis.

"With many," answered Villequier. "With the King,--with Epernon,-with your own brother."

"With my brother?" exclaimed Gaspar of Montsoreau, while the blood rushed up in his face. "Does he dare to oppose me after all his loud professions of disinterestedness and generosity? But where is he, my Lord? Leave me to deal with him. Where does he dwell? Is he in Paris?"

Villequier smiled, but so slightly, that it did not attract the eyes of his companion. That smile, however, was but the announcement of a sudden thought that had pa.s.sed through his own mind.

Shrewd politicians like himself, fertile in all resources, and unscrupulous about any, feel a pride and pleasure in their own abundance of expedients, which makes the conception of a new means to their end as pleasant as the finding of a diamond. On the present occasion the subtle courtier thought to himself with a smile, as he saw the angry blood mount into the cheek of the young Marquis of Montsoreau at the very mention of his brother's name,--"Here were a ready means of ridding ourselves, were it needful, of one if not both of these young rash-headed n.o.bles, by setting them to cut each other's throats."

It suited not his plan however at the moment to follow out the idea, and he consequently replied, "No, no, Monsieur de Montsoreau. I should take no small care, seeing how justly offended you are with your brother, to prevent your finding out his abode, as I know what consequences would ensue. But in all probability, by this time, he has gone back to the Duke of Guise, having with difficulty been frustrated, for the King was much inclined to yield to his demands."

"What did he demand?" exclaimed the Marquis vehemently. "What did he dare to demand, after the professions he made to me at La Ferte?"

"That matters not," answered Villequier. "Suffice it that his demands were such as would have ruined all your hopes for ever."

"But why should the King support his demands," said the Marquis, "when well a.s.sured of how attached he is to the great head of the League that tyrannises over him?"

"Hush, hus.h.!.+" said Villequier. "The League only tyrannises so long as the King chooses. Henry wields not the sword at present, but the sword is still in his hands to strike when he thinks fit. But to answer your question, my young friend. The King knows well, as you say, that your brother is attached to the Duke of Guise: but you must remember at the same time, Monsieur de Montsoreau, that as yet he is not fully a.s.sured that you are attached to himself. Nay, hear me out, hear me out! The King's arguments, I am bound to say, were not only specious but reasonable. He had to consider, on the one hand, that the Duke of Guise, with whom it is his strongest interest to keep fair, demands this young lady as his ward, which, according to the laws of the land, Henry has no right to refuse. Your brother, on the Duke's part, threatens loudly; and what have I to oppose to a demand to which it seems absolutely necessary in good policy that the King should yield?

Nothing; for, on the other hand, Henry affirms that he can be in no degree sure of yourself; that your family for long have shown attachment for the House of Guise; that you yourself were upon your march to join the Duke, when this lady, falling into the hands of the King's troops, induced you to abandon your purpose for the time; but that the moment he favours your suit, or gives his consent to your union with her, you may return to your former attachments, and purchase the pardon and good will of the Duke of Guise by returning to his faction."

"I am incapable of such a thing!" exclaimed the Marquis vehemently: but the recollection of his abandonment of the Duke's party came over him with a glow of shame, and he remained for a moment or two without making any farther reply, while Villequier was purposely silent also, as if to let what he had said have its full effect. At length he added:

"I believe you are incapable of it, Monsieur de Montsoreau, and so I a.s.sured the King. He, however, still urged upon me that I had no proof, and that you had taken no positive engagement to serve his Majesty. All the monarch's arguments were supported by Epernon, who, I believe, wishes for the hand of the young lady for some of his own relations, in order to arrange for himself such an alliance with the House of Guise as may prove a safeguard to him in the hour of need."

And again Villequier smiled at his own art in turning back upon the Duke of Epernon the suspicion which the Duke had expressed in regard to himself.

The warning of the Abbe de Boisguerin, however, at that moment rang in the ears of Gaspar of Montsoreau, and he roused himself to deal with Villequier not exactly as an adversary, but certainly less as a friend.

"In fact, Monsieur de Villequier," he said, "his Majesty wishes that I should devote my sword and fortune to his service; and I am to understand, through you, that he holds out to me the hope of obtaining the hand of Mademoiselle de Clairvaut in return. Now, it was not at all my purpose to take any part in the strifes that are agitating the country at this moment. I am neither Leaguer nor Huguenot, nor Zealot nor Moderate; and, though most loyal, not what is called Royalist. I was merely conducting Mademoiselle de Clairvaut, with a very small force, not the tenth part of what I can bring into the field at a week's notice, when the events took place which brought me to Paris.

Now, Monsieur, if the King does not rest satisfied with my expressions of loyalty, and desires some express and public engagement to his service, I see no earthly reason why I should rest satisfied with mere vague hopes of obtaining the hand of the lady I love; and though, of course, I cannot deal with his Majesty upon equal terms, yet I must demand some full, perfect, and permanent a.s.surance that I am not to be disappointed in my hopes, before I draw my sword for one party or another."

Villequier gazed thoughtfully in his face for a moment or two, biting his under lip, and saying internally, "The Abbe de Boisguerin--this comes from him." His next thought was, "Shall I endeavour to pique this stripling upon his honour, and generosity, and loyalty, and all those fine words?" But he rejected the idea the moment after thinking.

"No; that would do better with his brother. When a man boldly leaps over such things, it is insulting him to talk about them any more."

And after a moment's farther thought, he replied, "It is all very fair, Monsieur de Montsoreau, that you should have such a.s.surances; though, if we were not inclined to deal straightforwardly with you in the matter, we might very very easily refuse every thing of the kind, and leave you not in the most pleasant situation."

"How so?" demanded the Marquis with some alarm. "How so?"

"Easily, my dear young friend," replied Villequier. "Thus: by informing you that the King could give you no such a.s.surance--which, indeed, is nominally true, though not really--and by showing you, at the same time, that as the young lady is in his Majesty's hands, and he is determined not to give her up to the Duke of Guise or to any body else, but some tried and faithful friend, the only means by which you can possibly obtain her is by serving the King voluntarily, in the most devoted manner. Suppose this did not suit you, what would be your resource? If you go to the Duke of Guise, you find the ground occupied before you by your brother, and the Duke accuses you of having betrayed his young relation into the hands of the King--perhaps sends you under a guard into Lorraine, and has you tried, and your head struck off. Such things have happened before now, Monsieur de Montsoreau. At all events, not the slightest chance exists of your winning the fair heiress of Clairvaut from him. But, even if you did gain his consent, she is still in the hands of the King, who would certainly not give her up to one who had proved himself a determined enemy."

Gaspar of Montsoreau looked down, with somewhat of a frowning brow, upon the ground. He saw, indeed, that the alternative was one that he could not well adopt; and, from the showing of Villequier, he fancied himself of less power and consequence in the matter than he really was. He resolved, however, not to admit the fact if he could help it.

"Suppose, Monsieur de Villequier," he said, "that the League were to prevail, and to force his Majesty to concede all the articles of Nancy, think you not that one thing exacted from him might well be, to yield Mademoiselle de Clairvaut to her lawful guardian?"

"It might," answered Villequier immediately. "But then I come in. The question of guardians.h.i.+p has never been tried between the Duke and myself. I stand as nearly related to her as he does; and I should instantly bring the cause before the Parliament, demanding that the young lady should remain in the hands of the King as suzerain till the cause is decided, which might be this time ten years."

"I did not know," said the young n.o.bleman, "that the relations.h.i.+p was so near, though I was aware that Clairvaut is the family name of Villequier. However, sir, there is yet another alternative. Suppose I were to keep the sword in the sheath, and retire once more to Montsoreau."

"Why there, then," replied Villequier with a slight sneer, "you might happily abide, watching the progress of events, till either the royalist party or the League prevailed; and then, as chance or accident might will it, see the hand of the fair Lady rewarding one of the King's gallant defenders, or bestowed by the Duke of Guise upon his brave and prudent partisan, the Count of Logeres."

He paused for a moment or two, to let all he said have its full effect, and then added, in a familiar tone, "Come, come, Monsieur de Montsoreau, see the matter in its true light. There is no possible chance of your obtaining the hand of Mademoiselle de Clairvaut, except by attaching yourself to the King's service, and defending the royal cause with the utmost zeal. If you persist in doing so simply as a voluntary act to be performed or remitted at pleasure, be you sure that as you make the King depend upon your good will for your services towards him, so will you be made to depend upon his good will, his caprices if you like, for the hand of Mademoiselle de Clairvaut. If, however, on the contrary, you frankly and generously determine to take service with the King, and bind yourself irrevocably to his cause, I do not scruple to promise you, under his hand, his full consent to your union with Mademoiselle de Clairvaut. I will give you the same consent under mine, a.s.suming the t.i.tle of her guardian. Your marriage cannot, of course, take place till the great struggle that is now impending is over. In a few months, nay, in a few weeks, the one party or the other--who are now directing their efforts against each other, instead of turning, as they ought, their united forces against the common enemies of our religion--must have triumphed over its adversary. I need not tell you which I feel, which I know, must be successful; but your part will now be, to exert yourself to the utmost, to traverse the country with all speed to Montsoreau, to raise every soldier that you can, and to gather every crown that you can collect, to join the King with all your forces, wherever he may be, and, by your exertions, to render that result certain, which is, indeed, scarcely doubtful even as it is; remembering that upon the destruction of the Duke of Guise's party, and upon the overthrow of his usurped and unreasonable power, depends not only the welfare of your King and master, but the realisation of your best and sweetest hopes."

"You grant all that I demand, Monsieur de Villequier," replied Gaspar of Montsoreau. "All I wish is the King's formal consent in writing, and yours, to my marriage with Marie de Clairvaut, as the condition of my absolute and public adhesion to the royal cause."

"I know," replied Villequier, "that I grant all you demand, and I was prepared to do so from the first, only we were led into collateral discussions as we went on. You will, of course, take an oath to the King's service, and confirm it under your hand."

"We will exchange the papers, Monsieur de Villequier," replied the Marquis, thinking himself extremely cautious. "But now, pray tell me, how ended the discussion with my brother?"

"The only way that it could end," replied Villequier, "when all parties were determined to evade his demand. The King, you may easily suppose, was not inclined to give the young heiress of Clairvaut to any of the partisans of an enemy. Epernon knew well that if the hand of a Guise were upon her shoulder, the ring of a La Valette would never pa.s.s upon her finger; and I, when last we met, had half given my promise to you, and was, at all events, determined that the question of wards.h.i.+p should be settled before I parted with her. The King, therefore, evaded the demands of the young Count, though he was not a little inclined to yield to them at one time, in order to pacify the Duke of Guise. However, I took the brunt of the business upon myself, and underwent the hot indignation of your brother, who thought to find in me an Epernon, or a Montsoreau, who would measure swords with him for an angry word."

"They had better be skilful as well as brave," said the young Marquis thoughtfully, "who measure swords with my brother Charles."

"Indeed!" said Villequier, "is he then so much a master of his weapon?"

"The most perfect I ever beheld--ay, more skilful now, than even our friend the Abbe de Boisguerin; though I have heard that, some years ago, when the Abbe was studying at Padua, he challenged the famous Spanish sword-player, Bobez, to display his skill with him in the schools, in single combat, and hit him three times upon the heart without Bobez touching him once."

"I remember, I remember!" cried Villequier. "The master broke the b.u.t.tons from the swords in anger, and the student ran him through the body at the first pa.s.s, whereof he died within five minutes after in the Deacon's chamber."

"I never heard that he died," replied the Marquis with some surprise.

"He did indeed, though," replied Villequier with a meditative air.

"And so this was the Abbe de Boisguerin. One would have thought the army, rather than the church, would have called such a spirit to itself."

"I know not," replied the young Marquis, "but in all things he is equally skilful; and, doubtless, you know he has taken but the first step towards entering the church, pausing as it were even on the threshold."

"Do you think," said Villequier, "that he is as skilful in conveying intelligence as in other things?"