Henry of Guise Volume Ii Part 7

"What do you mean, my Lord?" exclaimed his young companion.

"Nay, I mean nothing," replied the politician, satisfied with having sown the first seed of suspicion in the young n.o.bleman's mind, without, perhaps, any definite design, but simply for the universal purpose of making men doubt and distrust each other, with a view of ruling them more easily. "Nothing, except a mere question concerning his skill. I have no latent meaning, I a.s.sure you."

The brow of the Marquis grew clear again, and Villequier saw that he believed the latter a.s.sertion more fully than he had intended. He let the subject pa.s.s, however, and spoke of many other things, giving his own account of various matters which had occurred during the Count de Logeres's audience of the King, and urging Gaspar de Montsoreau to set off with all speed to raise his forces in his native province. Then abruptly turning the conversation, he demanded, "You or the Abbe told me, I think, that you suspected your brother of having communicated your march to the reiters. Is it like his general character so to act?

I'm sure, if it be his custom to do such things, I would much rather that he was upon the opposite party than our own."

The Marquis bent down his head, and gazed sternly upon the ground for two or three moments. He then answered, with a deep sigh, "No, Monsieur de Villequier; no, it is not like Charles's character. He has all his life been frank and free as the summer air, open, and generous. I fear I did him wrong to suspect him. We are rivals where no man admits of rivalry: but I must do him justice. If he have done such a thing, his nature must be changed, changed indeed--changed, perhaps, as much as my own."

"I thought," replied Villequier, "that he seemed frank and straightforward enough, bold and haughty as a lion; gave the King look for look; bearded Epernon, and threatened to bring him to the field; and spared not me myself, whom men don't for some reason love to offend. But he did not seem a man likely to betray his friend, or practise treachery upon his brother. It is a very strange thing, too,"

he continued in an easier tone, "that Colombel and the other officers of the King's troops at Chateau Thierry should have received news of your coming a day before you did cross the Marne, together with the information that the reiters might attack you near Gandelu. Was not this strange?"

"Most strange," replied the Marquis, knitting his brows, and setting his teeth hard. But Villequier, now seeing that he had said quite enough, again turned the conversation; and after letting it subside naturally to ordinary subjects, he told the young Marquis that he would immediately write to the King, and obtain his signature to the paper required, before bed-time. "It is late already," he said; "I think even now I see a shade in the sky, so I must about my work rapidly. But remember, Monsieur de Montsoreau, nine is my supper hour exactly; and then, care and labour being past, we will sit down and enjoy ourselves, though I fear the accommodation which I can offer you in my poor dwelling must seem but rude in your eyes."

The Marquis said all that such a speech required, and then withdrew.

When he was gone, Villequier applied himself for some time to other things; but when they were concluded, he rose from his chair, and walked once or twice thoughtfully across the cabinet.

"I had better," he said to himself at length, "I had better deal with him at once, and then I can ascertain what are his demands, and how to treat them."

Thus saying, he took up his bell and rang it, directing the servant who appeared to see if he could find the Abbe de Boisguerin alone, in which case he was to invite him to a conference. "He will be alone,"

thought the wily courtier, "for I have sown seeds of those things which will not suffer them to be long together."

The Abbe, however, was absent from the house, much to the surprise of Villequier; and another hour had well nigh pa.s.sed before he made his appearance. The moment that he did so, he advanced towards Villequier with his mild and graceful calmness, saying that he understood his Lords.h.i.+p had sent for him. Villequier pressed his hand tenderly, and with soft and courtly words a.s.sured him that, in sending for him, he had only sought to enjoy the pleasure of his unrivalled conversation for a few minutes before supper.

The Abbe replied exactly in the same tone; that he was profoundly grieved to have lost even a moment of the society of one who fascinated from the first, and sent away every one charmed and delighted.

A slight and bitter smile curled the lip of each as he ended his speech, like a seal upon a treaty, the confirmation and mockery of a falsehood.

The Abbe, however, added to his speech a few words more, saying that he should have been back earlier, but that his conversation at the White Penitent's had been so interesting that he could not withdraw himself earlier from her Majesty the Queen-mother.

Villequier started. "Are you acquainted with the Queen?" he said.

"What a surprising-being Catherine is!"

"She is indeed," answered the Abbe. "My long sojourn at Florence some years ago made me fully acquainted with every member of the House of Medici, and I now bring you this letter on her part, Monsieur de Villequier."

Villequier took the paper that the Abbe handed to him, and read apparently with some surprise. "Her Majesty," he said, "knows that I am her devoted slave, but at the same time she cannot doubt, knowing as she does so well your high qualities, that I will do every thing to serve and a.s.sist you, and prevent all evil machinations against you."

"Oh, she doubts it not; she doubts it not," replied the Abbe. "She doubts it not, Monsieur de Villequier, any more than I do; and has written this note only in confirmation of your good intentions towards me. However, there is one thing I wish you to do for me, Monsieur de Villequier."

"Name it, my dear friend," exclaimed the Marquis; "but give me an opportunity of making myself happy in gratifying your wishes."

"The fact is, Monsieur de Villequier," replied the Abbe, "that some malicious person has been endeavouring to persuade the young Marquis de Montsoreau, my friend, and formerly my pupil, that it was I who intimated to the reiters the course we were pursuing to meet the Duke of Guise, and who also intimated the facts to the King's troops at Chateau Thierry, that they might have an opportunity of coming up to rescue us and bring us. .h.i.ther--though they showed no great activity in doing the first. Now, doubtless, the person who did this, if there were any one, had the King's service solely in view, and deserved to be highly rewarded, as he probably will be; but----"

"Doubtless," replied Villequier with a sneering smile. "But surely he could not object to such honourable service being known."

"Of course not," replied the Abbe; "nor that he had given intimation of the facts to, and taken his measures with, her Majesty the Queen-mother; by an order, under whose hand the troops at Chateau Thierry acted, and at whose suggestion Monsieur de Montsoreau and his friends threw themselves into the hands of Monsieur de Villequier.--All this her Majesty declares he did; and he could not, of course, object to any of these things being known, except as it is contrary to good policy and to the wishes of the Queen-mother: and more especially contrary to every wise purpose, if he be a person possessed of much habitual influence with the young Marquis."

"Monsieur de Boisguerin," said Villequier, seeming suddenly to break away from the subject, but in truth following the scent as truly as any well-trained hound, "the bishopric of Seez is at present vacant. I know none who would fill it better than the Abbe de Boisguerin."

The Abbe drew himself up and waved his hand. "You mistake me entirely, Monsieur de Villequier," he said. "I take no more vows. I have taken too many already; and those, by G.o.d's grace and the good will of our holy father the Pope, I intend to get rid of very speedily. I have nothing to request of your Lords.h.i.+p at present. I know, see, and understand your whole policy, and think you quite right in every respect. The promises which you and the King are to give to Monsieur de Montsoreau concerning the hand of Mademoiselle de Clairvaut can of course be broken, changed, or modified in a moment at any future time."

"We have no intention of breaking them," replied Villequier. "We are acting in good faith, I can a.s.sure you."

"Doubtless," replied the Abbe, "doubtless: but they can be broken?"

"Of course," replied Villequier; "of course any thing on earth can be broken."

"That is sufficient," replied the Abbe. "It is quite enough, Monsieur de Villequier: I only desire to know, whether you and the King consider it as a final arrangement, that Mademoiselle de Clairvaut is to marry the young Lord of Montsoreau, or whether the matter is not now as much unsettled and within your own power and grasp as ever."

"Why," replied Villequier thoughtfully, "it is, as I dare say you well know, Monsieur l'Abbe, a very difficult thing indeed to devise any sort of black lines, which, written down upon sheep skin, will prove sufficiently strong to bind the actions of kings, princes, or common men, at a future period. But it seems to me, Monsieur l'Abbe, that the time is come when we had better be frank with each other! What is it that you aim at? You seem not displeased to think the arrangement doubtful or contingent; and yet I, who am not accustomed to guess very wrongly in such matters, have entertained no doubtful suspicion that you prompted the demand for a definite and conclusive bargain."

"I did," replied the Abbe. "When you asked to see him alone, I was very well a.s.sured that, though a game of policy skilfully played may occasionally afford sport to Monsieur de Villequier, you were quite as well pleased in the present business to deal with a young and inexperienced head as with an old and a worldly one. He sought my opinion and advice, and, as I uniformly do when it is sought, I gave it him sincerely, though it was against my own views and purposes.

Now, Monsieur de Villequier, I see hovering round your lips a question, which, in whatever form of words you place it, whatever Proteus form it may a.s.sume, will have this for its substance and object; namely, What are the plans and purposes of the Abbe de Boisguerin? Now, my plans and purposes are these,--remember, I do not say my objects; the object of every man in life is one, though we all set out upon different roads to reach it. My purpose is to serve his Majesty and the Queen-mother far more than I have hitherto been able to do. What I have done is a trifle; but if I detach from the party of the League, separate for ever from the Duke of Guise, and bring over to the royal cause Charles of Montsoreau as well as his brother, I shall confer no trifling service, for I can now inform you, Monsieur de Villequier, that, besides the great estates of Logeres, he is lord of all the possessions lately held by the old Count de Morly, who ama.s.sed much treasure during the avaricious part of age, and died little more than a week ago, leaving this young Lord the heir of all his wealth. I have received the intelligence this very morning; so that, what between his riches, his skill, and his courage, he is worth any two, excepting Epernon perhaps, of the King's court."

"If you do what you say, Monsieur de Boisguerin," replied the Marquis in a low, deep, sweet-toned voice, "you may command any thing you please in France, bishoprics, abbeys----"

"If it rained bishoprics," replied the Abbe, "I would not wear a mitre. I do not pretend to say, Monsieur de Villequier, that I am more disinterested than my neighbours; that I have not great rewards in view, and objects of importance--to me, if not to others. But these objects are not quite fixed or determined yet, and I am not one of those men, Monsieur de Villequier, who hesitate to render the services first from a fear of losing the reward afterwards. I know how to make my claims heard when the time comes for demanding; and in the present instance, although I cannot distinctly promise to bring Charles of Montsoreau absolutely and positively over to the King's cause, yet I am sure of being able both to detach him from the Duke of Guise and separate him from the faction of the League. I think, indeed, that all three can be done: but nothing can be done unless the promise given to his brother be made contingent. The one loves her as vehemently as the other; and I, who know how to deal with him, can change his whole views in an hour, or at least in a few days."

"Indeed!" said Villequier. "He is now in Paris; the trial could be speedily made."

"I know it--" replied the Abbe, seeing the Marquis fix his eyes upon him eagerly, thinking, perhaps, 'he has promised more than he could perform.'

"I know it, and that is the precise reason why I have hurried on this matter, and urged it to the present point. No time is to be lost, or I see storms approaching, Monsieur de Villequier, that I think escape your eyes."

"What do you intend to do?" demanded Villequier; "and what means do you require to do it?"

"My purposes I have already told you," replied the Abbe. "The means I require--to come to the point at once--consist of a doc.u.ment under your own hand, making over to me, as far as your relations.h.i.+p to Mademoiselle de Clairvaut goes, the right of disposing of her hand in marriage to whomsoever I may think fit: that is to say, the voice for, or the voice against, any particular candidate for her hand, when given by me, is to be held as if given by yourself."

"This is a great thing that you demand, Monsieur de Boisguerin,"

replied Villequier, gazing in his face with no inconsiderable surprise; "and I see not how I can give such a paper at the very same time that I give the one which I have promised to the Marquis of Montsoreau."

"Nothing, I fear, can be done without it," replied the Abbe; "but I think it may be done without risk or exposure of any kind, for I in return can bind myself not to employ that paper for nine months, by which time all will be complete; and in both the doc.u.ments you can speak vaguely of other promises and engagements, and can declare your great object in giving me that paper to be, the final settlement of difficult claims, by a person in whom you have full confidence."

Villequier looked in his face with a meaning and somewhat sarcastic smile: then turned to the note which the Queen-mother, Catharine de Medici, had sent him; read it over again as if carelessly, but marking every word as he did so; and then said, with somewhat of a sigh, "Well, Monsieur de Boisguerin, pray draw up on that paper what you think would be required."

The Abbe took up the pen and ink, and wrote rapidly for a moment or two; while Villequier looked over his shoulder, fingering the hilt of his dagger as he did so, in a manner which might have made the periods of any man but the Abbe de Boisguerin, who knew as he did his companion's habits and views, less rounded and eloquent than they usually were. The Abbe, however, wrote on without the slightest sign of apprehension, and at length Villequier exclaimed, "That would tie my hands sufficiently tight, Monsieur de Boisguerin."

"Not quite, my Lord," replied the other. "I never make a covenant without a penalty; and what I am now going to add provides that, in case of your failing to confirm my decision, or attempting in any way to rescind this paper and the power hereby given to me, you forfeit to my use and benefit one hundred thousand golden crowns, to be sued for from you in any lawful court of this kingdom."

"Nay, nay, nay!" cried Villequier, now absolutely laughing. "This is going too far, Monsieur de Boisguerin."

"Faith, not a whit, my Lord," replied the Abbe. "I take care when men make me promises, that they are not such as can be trifled with, at least if I am to act upon them."

"Why, you do not suppose----" exclaimed Villequier.

"I suppose nothing, my Lord," interrupted the Abbe, "but that you are a statesman and a courtier, and must in your day have seen more than one promise broken."

"By some millions," replied Villequier. "I told you to speak frankly, Monsieur de Boisguerin, and you have done so with a vengeance. I must have my turn, too, and tell you that neither to you nor any other man on earth will I give such a promise, without in the first place seeing a probability of the object for which it is given being accomplished, and, in fact, some steps taken towards the accomplishment of that object; and, in the next place, without having a distinct notion of the means by which it is to effect its end. That is a beautiful ring of yours," continued the statesman, suddenly breaking away from the subject as if to announce that what he had just said was final, but perhaps in reality to consider what was to be the next step. "That is a beautiful ring of yours, Monsieur de Boisguerin, and of some very peculiar stone it seems; a large turquoise semi-transparent."