Rose D'Albret; or, Troublous Times.

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  The morning was bright and beautiful; the heavy clouds of thepreceding days had passed away, leaving behind them nothing but afew thin fleecy remnants, that were whirled over the blue sky fromtime to time by the quick wind. It was a true spring day that dawned,genial and soft; and, in the clump of trees by which one side of thefarm-house was shaded, the early birds were singing sweetly, rejoicingin the blessings of God and the return of the bright season to theearth.

  De Montigni had watched the greater part of the night, and had notclosed his eyes till an hour before the break of day; but he then fellinto a heavy and profound slumber, which even the various noises ofthe farm, the rising of his own attendants, the coming and going ofthe farmer and his family, and the arrival of several people from thevillage, bringing intelligence of the movements of the army, did notdisturb. He lay so calm and still, his servants would not wake him,till at length a messenger from the King spurred quickly down to thefarm-house, delivered a sealed packet, addressed to the young Baron,and rode back again without a moment's pause. It was then thought fitto rouse him; and, starting up, as one of his followers shook him bythe arm, he passed his hand across his brow, exclaiming, "Good Heaven!it was a dream!" Then taking the packet he opened it, and found a fewbrief words in the handwriting of the King.

  "Monsieur de Montigni," so the letter ran, "I am informed of yourarrival, and also that your uncle, the Commander de Liancourt, will behere before ten o'clock with a small corps. He has orders to join youat Mainville. Wait for his arrival, then come up by the road to St.Andr?" as far as the first turning, which will lead you to the plain.There, as soon as you reach the army, fall into the light horse of theCount d'Auvergne.

  "I enclose you the paper which you requested by message last night.

  "Your very best friend,

  "HENRY."

  There was a small slip of paper enclosed in the letter; and to it DeMontigni now turned, reading, with joy and satisfaction, the followingwords:--

  "Henry, by the grace of God King of France and Navarre. It having beencertified to us, upon good and sufficient authority, that, by contractexisting between the late Francis d'Albret, Count de Marennes, ourwell-beloved cousin, and Anthony, Count of Liancourt, the hand of theonly daughter of the said Francis d'Albret was plighted, promised, andengaged, to Louis, Baron de Montigni, and that the said parties arenow of an age, and willing to fulfil the said contract, We do by thesepresents authorize the said parties, to proceed to the celebration oftheir marriage, notwithstanding any let, hindrance, or protest, on thepart of any person, or persons, whatsoever, consenting to ratifyingand sanctioning the said marriage, by the power and authority in usbeing.

  (Signed,) "HENRY."(And lower down,) "REVOL."

  "Is Mademoiselle d'Albret awake?" asked De Montigni, eager to show theprecious document to her he loved.

  "Oh yes, Sir," replied the man to whom he spoke; "she is awake and upan hour ago; but she bade us not disturb you."

  De Montigni hastened to the door and knocked. "Come in," said thesweet voice of Rose d'Albret; and entering, he found her sitting withher hand clasped in that of Helen de la Tremblade, who had passed thenight with her. She rose to meet him, and was immediately pressed tohis heart, while he whispered in her ear, "You are mine, dear Rose.Here is all that was wanting to our immediate union," and he placedthe paper in her hand.

  There was not less light in the eyes of Rose d'Albret than in those ofher lover, as she read the King's sanction to their marriage; but,when she turned to the letter that accompanied it, her cheek grewpale, and a tear trembled upon her eyelids.

  "Oh, Louis! must you leave me so soon?" she cried, "and to battle?"

  "Nay, dearest Rose," answered De Montigni, "you would not have meavoid the path to honour and renown."

  "No, Louis, no," she answered; "I will not say another word.--Teno'clock? That is very soon; 'tis past nine now."

  "Indeed!" said De Montigni. "I have slept too long."

  "Oh, no!" answered Rose. "I came and looked at you as you lay, and itwould have been cruel to rouse you from so calm a slumber."

  "And yet I dreamed sad dreams, dear Rose," said her lover. "But whatis to be done?" he continued; "neither arms nor horses have arrived,and our poor beasts are jaded with yesterday's fatigue."

  "But you cannot go without arms," said Rose, rejoicing in the hopethat something might detain him from the perilous field; "your unclewill never let you go unarmed.--Perhaps they will come soon; but inthe meantime take some refreshment, Louis. Run, dear Helen, run andtell them to bring him some food."

  Helen de la Tremblade had remained sitting at the table, with her handcovering her eyes; but now, rising, she approached the door, pausinghowever, with a glowing cheek, ere she went, to whisper something toRose d'Albret.

  "Not for the world," replied Rose; "oh, no, Helen, do not suppose it,"and her cheek too, grew red.

  The breakfast was soon brought, and Louis de Montigni ate a few hastymouthfuls; but he was too much excited and too anxious to find anylong repose. More than once he rose and looked out; more than once hequestioned the farmer as to whether no one had come during the morningto furnish him with arms. He asked eagerly, too, for intelligence fromSt. Andr?, and heard, with feelings of impatience and pain, that theKing had marched at an early hour to take up his position on theground he had chosen for his field of battle. He then sent out two ofhis men to gain farther information, and to see if any horses could beprocured; but minute after minute passed by; the hour of ten arrived;and every moment he expected to see the old Commander and his party atthe ford before the farm-house, before anything that he required couldbe obtained. The men brought back word that the village was nearlydeserted, except by a few sick and wounded; but they had seen the armyof the King, they said, extending in a long line across the plain, andthey thought they had also perceived the heads of Mayenne's columnsadvancing from the side of Ivry.

  "Well, we must go as we are," said De Montigni; "we fought the otherday at Marzay without a scratch; and we shall ride lighter withoutarmour. Have everything ready to set out the moment my uncle appears.Two of you, however, must stay with these ladies. You are all anxiousto go, I know, so choose by lot, and make haste, that all may beready."

  The moments that thus passed were sad and terrible to poor Rosed'Albret. She would not say a word to stay him; and yet she would havegiven worlds, had it been possible without damage to his honour, tohave withheld him from the field. Each order that he gave, eachinquiry that he made, roused fresh fears and apprehensions in herbreast; and the words of tenderness and affection with which he stroveto cheer her, but rendered her more sad, while again and again sheasked herself, if she should ever hear that voice again.

  Nor were the feelings of Helen de la Tremblade less painful, thoughperhaps they were less anxious, as, seated near the window, she gazedforth in sad and motionless meditation. To those who stood beside her,all was risked upon that battle; but to her, the bright hopes of life,which in their case were but chequered with fears that an hour mightsweep away, were gone for ever. Their words of love, their anxiety foreach other, all awoke painful thoughts and bitter memories; and overall her contemplations, spread the dark cloud of self-reproach,leaving not one bright spot in the future or the past.

  Still minute after minute passed away, and no one appeared. Theimpatience of De Montigni became extreme. "The battle will begin," hethought, "and I shall be absent. Disgrace and shame will fall upon me.Who will know of the King's commands? and men will say, I was withinhalf a league of a stricken field, and kept aloof. I cannot bear thismuch longer. Ride out upon the top of the hill, Victor, towards theside of Annet, and see if you can perceive my uncle coming.--But hark!what is that?"

  As he spoke the loud boom of a distant cannon struck upon the ear;another and another succeeded, and then several shots still fartheroff were heard replying to the former.

  "It is begun," he said; "I can wait no more. Bring round my horse!Dearest Rose, I must go to s
ee what is taking place. I will be backsoon, my beloved," and he once more pressed her to his heart.

  "But the King's commands," said Rose; "He told you to wait here foryour uncle. You ought not to go indeed, Louis."

  "There must be some mistake," he answered, "and I cannot stay herelike a coward or a fool, while my King is fighting for his crown, andthe fate of France is in the balance. I will be back speedily,--I willbut see," and tearing himself away, he sprang upon his horse's back,followed by those, upon whom the lot to accompany him had fallen, andspurred up the hill at full speed. On the top he paused lookingtowards Annet. The whole country was open before his sight; but nobody of men was to be seen, and hesitating no longer, he rode on tillthe plain of Ivry lay before his eyes, covered with squadrons andbattalions of horse and foot, and presenting the wild, confused andbusy scene of a field of battle. When he was gone, Rose d'Albretcovered her eyes and for a few moments gave way to tears; but Helen dela Tremblade came round to where she stood, and laid her hand timidlyupon her arm. Rose dashed away the drops from her eyes, at this muteappeal, saying, "No, Helen, no I will not doubt it! It were wicked, itwere wrong, to think that God would so abandon us."

  "Besides, lady," said Helen, "Monsieur de Montigni is good and noble;you are virtuous and wise. Can such people ever be unhappy?"

  "Ah, my poor Helen," replied Rose d'Albret, "you reproach yourself toobitterly when the fault was his. Shamefully have you been used; andthough God forbid that I should say you have not done wrong, yet I canwell believe that, with such vows and promises, you fancied yourselfhis wife as much as if the priest had joined your hands. Perhaps," sheadded in her ignorance of man's nature, "perhaps, now that he has lostthe hope of obtaining my estates, which was all he sought, he may makeyou his wife indeed, and deliver you from self-reproach."

  "That he can never do," replied Helen de la Tremblade; "I feel that Iam a degraded being, lady, unworthy even of your kindness."

  "Nay, do not call me lady," answered Mademoiselle d'Albret; "you usedto call me Rose, Helen, and you must do so still. But indeed, dearHelen," she continued, willing to pass away heavy time, with any otherthoughts but those of what was taking place so near her, "but indeed,I will trust you may still be happy; and one thing you must do for mysake, you must tell your uncle all. He will give you absolution forthe past, and direction for the future."

  "Ere this, he has been told," answered Helen, "told by that harsh andcruel woman. She would never spare me that."

  "Ay, but you know not how she may have told it," answered Rosed'Albret. "Oh, she is false and deceitful, Helen, and may have castthe whole blame and shame on you, when in truth, yours is but thelighter share. See him, dear Helen, see him, and let him know thewhole. Shrink not from his reproaches; hear them with patience andhumility; but let him know the plain truth, just as you have told itme; and he will forgive you, I am sure. Hark! there are the cannonagain. Oh Good, protect him!--Helen, I will go and pray."

  "May I pray with you?" asked Helen de la Tremblade timidly.

  "Come," said Rose taking her by the hand, "come let us raise our voiceto Him from whom all need, and all are sure to receive, forgivenessand mercy if they seek it."

  An hour passed by in anxious expectation. Oh, how long an hour may beto those who watch, to those who with the faint sickening of theheart, know that upon its events may hang the long misery of ahopeless, cheerless, loveless life! It seemed as if it would never go;and every device they used to make it speed the faster, seemed likethe ticking of a clock, marking the slowness of time's progress, notaccelerating its flight. Now they spoke of things past, hoping to losein retrospection, the sense of things present; now they talked of thefuture, the wide indefinite blank, which to all men is a chasm thatthe eye searches in vain. But still to the present, the overburdenedpresent, their minds and their words returned whether they would ornot. To the quick imagination of Rose d'Albret, all the horrors of thebattle-field presented themselves in more than even their realterrors. She pictured the dead, the dying, and the wounded; the fiercecontention, the sanguinary triumph, the unsparing cruelty, loss,flight, defeat; and though she laboured zealously with her own mind tolead it to other themes, yet it was all in vain. She might speak ofanything, of everything but the battle, yet still her thoughtswandered back to that overwhelming image, which, like some vastermountain in a hilly country, was ever seen towering over all the rest,and presenting itself to contemplation, whenever the eyes were turnedfrom other objects.

  Sometimes she would strive to speak calmly with Helen de la Tremblade,upon what should be the poor girl's future conduct. Sometimes shewould inquire gently and tenderly into the past. But ever her mindwould come back again to the battle, and she would give way to all theapprehension and anxiety she felt; would ask how the time went; wouldcall the good farmer, and demand intelligence; would send out one ofthe attendants, to bring her any news that he could gather.

  Half an hour more flew slowly away, and De Montigni did not return;but then, quick spurring down the road, as if for life, came a smallparty of horse. The farmer, who was upon the watch, suddenly closedand barred the doors, and Rose saw from the window that, over theirdusty armour, they wore scarfs of green, a sign that they belonged tothe faction of the League. The worthy countryman called her and hercompanion quickly from the lower story, put up the strong oakenshutters, and bade them, if they needs must gaze, look from the roomsabove. But the cavaliers paused not even to notice the house as theypassed, and, hurrying on, plunged their horses into the stream, andgained the other side.

  "Surely the King has won the day?" said Rose; turning to the farmer,"the Leaguers fly. Is it not so?"

  "I know not, Mademoiselle," replied the peasant. "It often happens instrifes like these that men run away before the battle is lost or won.Their own corps may be defeated; but there may come many more to turnthe fight."

  Even while he spoke a single horseman, with a scarf of white, rodedown more slowly on a wounded horse, looked up to the window, wherethey stood, and cried aloud, "the King is killed," passing on withoutfurther pause.

  The heart of Rose d'Albret sank as she caught his words; but she grewfainter still when she beheld upon the road, a party of four, one onfoot, leading a horse, on which sat a wounded man, with two otherssupporting him. For an instant she fancied--for the imagination offear is as vivid and as false as that of hope,--that she recognizedthe figure of De Montigni. The next moment, however, she saw that itwas an older and a heavier man, clothed in armour, and with the visorof his casque closed; but with the white signal of the Bourbon partythrown over his shoulder.

  "Oh let us go and help him," she cried.

  The farmer hesitated. "Do, do!" cried his wife.

  "Well, quick, then!" said the man, and hurrying down, the door wasunbarred and opened; but still he held it in his hand ready to closeit in an instant, if he saw others following.

  "What news? what news?" cried the peasant as the others came near.

  "Victory! victory!" shouted one of the men: "Mayenne in full flightand total rout!"

  "And the King? and the King?" demanded the farmer.

  "Master of the field; and following them like a thunderbolt, to Ivry,"was the reply of one of those who rode beside the wounded man; "buthelp us, here," he added; "he is sadly hurt."

  They lifted their master from his horse at the gate, and were bearinghim in, while Rose d'Albret, who had come forth with the farmer andhis wife, gazed on him with looks of sympathy, when, suddenly, at fullspeed, but waving joyfully his hat and plume, De Montigni appearedupon the road above, followed by an attendant; and, giving way to allshe felt in that moment of exceeding happiness, she ran on to meethim, and in an instant was in his arms.

  "Oh, this has been a glorious day, dear Rose," he cried; "and thecrown of France is firm upon our monarch's brow. By his own right handhe has won it; and God grant him life to wear it long."

  Tears were the only reply that Rose could make; but the good farmertossed up his hat, and cried "Hurrah!" r />
  "Whom have you here?" asked De Montigni, as his eyes fell upon thegroup just arrived, who were now entering the farm, with the woundedman borne in the midst. But, ere any one could answer, coming up theroad from the other side, as if seeking a ford across the stream, wereseen a body of some thirty horse, with a young and graceful man attheir head. The farm-house hid them from the young Baron and the ladytill they had passed the angle; but then the green scarfs mingled withblack, too plainly showed to what party they belonged. They rode fast,but not at the headlong speed of fear; and, when they saw the marks ofa ford, the leader paused, marshalled his men to pass two and two, andthen looked round him with a calm deliberate air. His eyes instantlylighted upon De Montigni his attendant and Rose d'Albret, for thefarmer had retreated into the house; and, exclaiming "Halt!" to thosewho were passing the ford, the officer of the League spoke anotherword or two to a gentleman near him.

  De Montigni drew Rose rapidly to the door of the farm, and pushed itviolently with his hand; for by this time it was closed, and the goodfarmer, seeing the arrival of the troop, had barred and bolted it asbefore. In vain De Montigni looked about for a place of refuge: theywere shut in between the bank, the wall of the garden, and the ford;and in an instant they were surrounded by the horsemen.

  "Ha, ha! we shall not go without some prisoners at least," cried theleader of the troop, "your sword, Sir, your sword--it is vaincontending."

  De Montigni hesitated; but he was seized in a moment; and while Roseclung in agony to his breast, his sword was snatched from his side,and a pistol levelled at his head.

  "Surrender, or die!" cried a fierce-looking man, who had sprung to theground beside him. "We have no time to waste upon Huguenots."

  "We are no Huguenots," replied De Montigni, "but faithful Catholics,though servants of the King. I surrender, as it needs must be so; but,of course, you will let this lady retire into the house--you do notmake war upon women, I suppose."

  "That depends upon circumstances," replied the leader, who had nowcome up. "Your name, Sir?"

  "The Baron de Montigni," replied the young nobleman.

  "We are in luck," exclaimed the leader, turning to one of hiscompanions; "then this fair lady is Mademoiselle d'Albret?"

  Rose only replied by her tears; and the leader continued, turning toDe Montigni, "Mount your horse, Sir, and follow! You are a prisoner ofwar, and shall be treated as such. The lady shall be restored to thosefrom whose care you took her. No words; for time is short--Have you alitter or a horse for the lady?"

  "Her jennet is in the stable," replied De Montigni; "but she is toomuch fatigued and weary to ride. If you have the spirit of a gentlemanand a knight, as you seem to be, you will not force her to do so."

  "Weary or not weary," said the stranger, "she must come along. Quick,bring out the jennet! Lose not a minute, or we shall have some of theenemy upon us. Lady, it seems your friends have kindly shut the doorin your face, so that if you have goods and chattels within, they musteven remain where they are."

  "You are discourteous, Sir," said De Montigni, "and abuse youradvantage."

  "How now!" cried the leader, grasping his sword; but Rose held up herhand in entreaty, exclaiming, "Nay, nay, De Montigni, say not aword--I am ready to go. I trust this gentleman will use no needlessharshness. Here is the jennet: I will go directly."

  The horseman looked down somewhat gloomily, murmuring, "Discourteous!such a term was never used to Nemours before."

  "Monsieur de Nemours," replied De Montigni, "I am free to say Ibelieve it never was; and I am sure, now I know you, it never wasdeserved. You have lost a great battle, Sir, and some irritation maybe forgiven: but I beseech you, if it must be shown, let it fall uponmy head, and not upon this lady's."

  "Fear not," said the Duke, turning to him frankly; "I must send her toher guardian, as I have been required; but she shall be treated withall kindness by the way; and in the meantime," he added aloud, "she isunder the protection of my honour. Quick, quick!" he continued, "see,there are people coming down already. Stand to your arms, there.Mount, Sir, mount."

  Before De Montigni did so, however, he lifted Rose into the saddle,and then sprung upon his horse, saying, "I will not detain you, myLord Duke; but you need not fear," he added, "those are but two orthree of my own servants."

  "On!" cried Nemours to his soldiers; "steady through the ford."

  "Which way, my lord?" asked the guidon of the party.

  "Towards Chartres," answered the Duke, and the troop took their wayacross the stream.