Rose D'Albret; or, Troublous Times.

  CHAPTER IV.

  There was an old hall in the Ch?teau de Marzay, very like many anotherold hall in many parts both of France and England, some forty feet inspan, some seventy in length, arched over with a concave roof, nearlysemi-circular in the curve, and not at all unlike, with its roundedribs, the tilt of an enormous waggon. From the line where the vaultsprang from the walls, ten or twelve large beams projected, ornamentedat the ends with curiously carved and somewhat grotesque heads,supporting each an upright, upon which the arches of the roof rested,while diagonal beams gave additional strength to this sort ofpermanent scaffolding. The floor, as was usual in such chambers, wasof polished tiles, alternately octangular and square; and seven largewindows, with very small panes set in lead, gave light to theinterior.

  This hall was the favourite place, in all the castle, of its Lord,Anthony Lefevre, Count de Liancourt, a gentleman allied to some of thefirst families in France, who had served in former wars with tolerablereputation, showing a greater lack of judgment than of courage; thelatter quality leading him into many dangers, from which he had beensaved, more by the skill and resolution of his friends and followers,than his own discretion. Comparatively few of the vices of man do notspring from his weaknesses. It is still the contest between thestronger and the feebler parts of our nature which overthrows us; andwhether the passion be vanity or pride or avarice or ambition, or anyof all the host of minor fiends against which we pray, it is solely byweakness of the higher qualities, placed to guard the heart inopposition to them, that either or all gain the ascendancy. We do nothave a care to fortify the garrison betimes, as we might do, and theenemy takes us by siege, or storm, or escalade.

  The Count de Liancourt had been all his life a weak man, and thepassion which triumphed the most frequently over him was vanity; buthe had sufficient talent, which is very far from incompatible withweakness, to conceal from the eyes of those who did not know him tothe very heart, the feebleness of his character. The suggestions ofother people he passed for the result of his own deliberations, and headhered to these adopted children with all the fondness of a parent.Though naturally wavering and undecided, he had the skill to give acolouring of moderation and prudence to that conduct which sprung fromhesitation; and, by adopting the reasonings of wiser men, he justifiedthat course which in him was the result of unreasonable doubts. But ashe was wanting in discrimination of justice, right, and propriety, itnot unfrequently happened that the very art with which he covered thefact that he followed rather than led, turned to his discredit; andacts by no means honourable to him were very generally ascribed to hisown cunning, which were in truth only attributable to his ownweakness. Without giving the whole history of his life, these factscould not have been made manifest by any other means than bydescription, and therefore I have thought fit to point out somepeculiarities in a character which would not probably have room todevelop itself.

  He loved, I have said, that old hall, and would pass many an hourthere, either walking to and fro--apparently in deep thought, but inreality more engaged in day-dreams than meditations--or in writing orreading at a table in one of the windows, while ever and anon heraised his eyes to the banners and ensigns which hung from the beams,and contemplated with pleasure the long ancestral line of which theywere mementos.

  In this hall he was found by his fair ward, Rose d'Albret, and her twocompanions, on their return from the battlements; but the Lady had toplace her hand upon his arm before he roused himself from a book whichhe seemed studying deeply.

  "De Montigni has just arrived, my dear uncle," said Rose, as he lookedup; "we saw him from the walls."

  "I am glad to hear it," replied the Count; "I knew no harm wouldhappen to him. Ah, here he comes!"

  As he spoke, the young nobleman entered the hall, followed by the goodfarmer Chasseron; and Monsieur de Liancourt advancing towards him,opened his arms and embraced him with every mark of kindness.

  "Welcome! welcome, my dear boy!" he said, in a somewhat pompous tone;"welcome back to Marzay. You will find the old ch?teau just as it was,though your uncle cannot boast of bearing his years as well, Louis.Here are your gay cousin Chazeul and my fair ward Rose, all ready toreceive you, and wish you joy of your return. Why, you look somewhatthin and pale!"

  Chazeul embraced De Montigni also, and congratulated him upon his safearrival in his native land, adding, "You have been no great traveller,I think, nevertheless, Louis. Padua has been your boundary, has itnot? And there, doubtless, you have made yourself a very learned man,while we here have learned nothing but hard blows and rough campaigns.By my faith, you have, I think, chosen the better part, at least thehappier one, though here is a fair reward for all one's labours. SweetRose, do you not welcome your cousin?"

  The cheek of Rose d'Albret grew somewhat red, partly throughindignation, partly through embarrassment. She saw clearly enough thelatent design of the Marquis de Chazeul in speaking of her as if shewere actually his; and she felt some anger at being called forward towelcome the companion of her youth, as if she were not prompt to doso, by a man who had shown such indifference to his safety. She cameforward gracefully, however, and held out her hand to De Montigni,with a warm and kindly smile, saying, "Indeed I am very glad to seeyou, Louis; but you would take no notice of me just now. I waved myhand to you from the walls, to be the first to wish you joy on yourreturn, but you did not look up."

  De Montigni coloured, and faltered for a moment, but then replied,earnestly, "I saw you from a distance, and knew you at once; but as Icame near, a thousand memories of other days assailed me, Mademoiselled'Albret. Days long gone rose up before me, hopes vanished, pleasurespast away, regrets unavailing; and I could not but give myself up tothought."

  Rose asked herself what were the hopes, what the regrets, he spoke of;and her heart beat, and her cheek grew somewhat pale. She lookedround, however; Chazeul was talking in a whisper with her guardian;the priest was standing in the window; and she said, in a low voice,"Do not call me Mademoiselle d'Albret, Louis. That is a cold name. Itused ever to be Rose, or cousin, in former days."

  "Cousin you are not, except by courtesy," replied De Montigni, in thesame tone, "and I did not venture to call you Rose, now that you areanother's."

  The colour came warmly into her cheek, but she cast down her eyes,saying, in a tone scarcely audible, "I am not another's yet; and, ifever I am, I shall then be your cousin really."

  De Montigni knew little of the world, it is true; but yet when a womanspeaks of such matters, in so low a tone, to one for whom sheprofesses friendship, it shows at least a confidence in him, which isnear akin to deeper regard. He was embarrassed, however; and how manyopportunities does not embarrassment cause us to lose for ever! howoften does it make us seem the very reverse of what we are! The kindappear harsh, the affectionate cold, the modest even impudent. He knewnot what to reply; and suddenly breaking off their privateconversation, though it might have lasted longer, for his uncle wasstill talking eagerly with Chazeul, he turned to his companionChasseron, who, standing a step behind, had remained unnoticed,watching with his clear and penetrating eyes all that was passingbefore him, and drawing at once his own conclusions.

  "My dear uncle," said the young nobleman, addressing Monsieur deLiancourt, "here is a worthy gentleman to whom I have promised awelcome for the night in your name. I found him in the wood about halfan hour ago, attacked by some six or seven marauders, two of whom hehad disabled before I came up."

  "Ay, Sir," rejoined Chasseron, "and if you had not come up and foughtgallantly when you did come, the rest would have soon disabled me. Toyour courage and skill I owe my life, _pardie!_"

  "Indeed!" cried Rose d'Albret, with her cheek glowing and her eyesturned somewhat reproachfully towards Chazeul, "I told you I was sureLouis was attacked, and that the guns we heard were those of some ofthese plunderers. I knew De Montigni was coming at that hour," sheadded as a sort of explanation, "and thought it very likely that hewould meet with some lawless band in the wood."

  "It w
as in my defence, fair Lady, that he fought," said Chasseron,"and gallantly he did fight, too."

  "And pray, Sir, who are you?" demanded Chazeul, with an angry spotupon his cheek at hearing the praises of one whom he wished to believeweak and timid.

  "A very poor gentleman, Sir," replied Chasseron, "not many poorer inthe realm of France; and yet a gentleman. My name is Michael deChasseron; and in days of yore, I have seen many a well strickenfield; so that I am some judge of such matters, though now I have laidaside that trade, and am, as you may see, but a cultivator of theground."

  "Michael de Chasseron! I have heard the name," said Monsieur deLiancourt; "at all events you are welcome, Sir; and such entertainmentas the Ch?teau of Marzay can afford you shall command."

  Chasseron was expressing his thanks briefly, when a loud rough-tonedbut hearty voice was heard without, exclaiming, "Where is he? where ishe? where is my dear boy?" and at the same moment an old man enteredthe room, who had apparently, though not really, numbered more yearsthan Monsieur de Liancourt himself. He was dressed in a buff coat ofbuckskin, laced with gold, with a high-standing collar, according to afashion passed away some fifteen or twenty years before, with no ruffround his neck, but merely a plain linen cape turned back from hisgrey beard and neck. Over his shoulders hung a riband, from which wassuspended the cross of a Commander of the order of St. John, and inhis hand he carried a stout staff, on which he leant as he advanced upthe hall, somewhat limping in his gait from an old wound in the leg. Adeep scar appeared on his brow, and a large hole on his right cheek,mementos of former fields; and his whole frame seemed greatlyshattered by injuries and labours. His eye however was clear andbright, his cheek warm and healthy, and his countenance frank andsmiling.

  The instant he entered he paused, looked straight towards De Montigni,and then stretched out his arms. The young man sprang to meet hisembrace, and the old commander held him for several moments to hisheart, unable apparently to speak from emotion. A tear rose in the eyeof Rose d'Albret as she witnessed the meeting, and for a moment sheturned away towards the window.

  "Welcome, welcome, Louis," cried the old Commander de Liancourt,"welcome back at length, my boy; but what the devil made thee stayaway so long? thou shouldst have been here years ago! 'Tis a badbusiness, Louis, 'tis a bad business; but no matter for that, it can'tbe helped. We are all fools at some time of our lives; one man when heis young, another man when he is old. Heaven help us, man, how tallthou art grown! and I'll warrant you, notwithstanding all they say ofyour studies, can wield a sword or couch a lance with any one._Pardie_, I'll have thee run a tilt with Chazeul in the court-yardto-morrow!" and dropping his voice, he added with a laugh, "break hishead for him, Louis; he is a coxcomb and a knave, though he be mysister's son; but she's not much better, for that matter."

  While he spoke, he held the young man by the hand, and eyed him allover with a look of fond affection, seeming to attend but little towhat he said in reply, though De Montigni answered him in warm termsof regard, and declared he looked in better health than when last hesaw him.

  "Ay boy, ay," said the old commander, "rest and idleness have donesomething for me; though if I could have mounted my horse, I wouldhave been in the field long ago; but this accursed wound still keepsme out of the saddle, and I am no better than an old woman,--food forworms--food for worms, Louis! This old carrion of mine is quite readyfor the earth, when it be God's will. But you must see old Estoc; hebore your father's cornet at Jarnac; and the old villain does not knowyou are come, or he would have been here long ago. Halloo there!Estoc! Estoc!" and he made the hall ring with his shout.

  "For heaven's sake, my good brother," said Monsieur de Liancourt, "donot shake the walls of the ch?teau down. Some one tell Estoc thatMonsieur de Montigni is arrived."

  "Monsieur de Montigni!" said the commander, imitating his brother'stone. "Warm that, Louis!--cordial! Monsieur de Montigni! _Ventre saintgris!_ have you quite forgot he is your nephew, brother? Your eldestsister's son? Ah! poor Louise; if she could but see what I see!--Well,'tis no matter, the grave is a sure shield against many a wound."

  "Come, come, now brother," said Monsieur de Liancourt, somewhatsharply, "your humour gets intolerable. Did you not promise that Ishould have none of this?"

  "Promise? No, not a bit of it," cried the old commander; "I alwayskeep my promises, Anthony; I wish others did as well. However, thereis no use of talking now. You must have it all your own way. Youalways did; and a pretty affair you often made of it. Ah! here comesEstoc.--Here he is, old comrade, here he is, with just the same facehe went away, only with a beard on it!"

  These words were addressed to a tall, old, weather-beaten man, as thinand as stiff as a lance, who advanced with great strides up the hall,and taking the Baron de Montigni in his arms, gave him a great hug;then suddenly letting him go, he said, "I could not help it, Sir,indeed. Bless my heart, it seems as if you were little Louis still; doyou recollect how I used to teach you to ride, and to shoot, and toplay with sword and buckler?"

  "Ay, that I do, Estoc," replied the young nobleman; "those lessonshave served me well, many a time since, and no longer ago than to-day.But I must give my companion of this afternoon's adventure into yourcharge, Estoc. Where is Monsieur de Chasseron?" he continued, lookingaround.

  "He left the room this moment, probably to see after his horse,"observed father Walter, advancing from the window for the first time.

  "I will go and find him," answered Estoc; "I passed some one in thevestibule, but as it is growing grey, I scarcely saw him;" and heturned abruptly to depart.

  "Hark ye, Estoc," said the old commander, detaining him for a moment,and speaking in a whisper, "come up to his room when he goes to changehis clothes. I must have some talk with him; the boy must know how hestands here--do you understand?"

  Estoc nodded his head, and took his departure without reply.

  In the meantime the priest had held out his hand to the young Baron deMontigni, saying, "Though the last to wish you joy on your return,Sir, I do so sincerely, and trust you have fared well during yourabsence."

  "Ah! good father," exclaimed the young Baron, "in this dim light I didnot know you; but I am right glad to see you again, and have to thankyou for many a wise counsel and much good instruction, by which I hopeI have not failed to profit. Have you been well since last we parted?"

  "As well as I could wish to be," replied the priest; "not that I amsure that high health is as great a blessing as men think. Like wealthand many another of this world's gifts, it sometimes leads us toforget our dependence on the Giver."

  "I trust not to a well-regulated mind," said De Montigni; "and I amsure, to you it could be no source of evil."

  The old man looked down and shut his teeth fast together; and Monsieurde Liancourt, wishing to bring a scene which was not altogetherpleasing to him to a close as speedily as possible, told De Montignithat the evening meal would be ready in half an hour, so that he hadbut time to change his riding-dress.

  The young nobleman lingered for a few moments, however, conversingwith those around, and marking many things which the actors thereinlittle knew that he observed. Chazeul had kept close to the side ofRose d'Albret since his conversation with the Count had come to anend, and thrice he had endeavoured to engage her attention to himself,but in vain. At this moment, however, he said with some degree ofirritation in his tone, "You seem very much occupied, sweet Rose."

  "So I am, Monsieur de Chazeul," she answered aloud, "and interestedtoo.--Are you not so?"

  "Oh, certainly," he replied, "these receptions are always interestingceremonies."

  "Not to those, with whom they are ceremonies," said Rose d'Albret; andwhile Chazeul bit his lip, and his brow contracted moodily, she turnedto speak with father Walter de la Tremblade.

  De Montigni was conversing, in the meantime with his two uncles; buthe had heard all, and marked particularly the words "Monsieur deChazeul;" and whatever other effect might be produced upon him, theimmediate result was to throw him into a
fit of thought, and make himanswer some of Monsieur de Liancourt's questions at random.

  "What are you thinking about, Louis?" cried the old commander; "mybrother asks when you left Padua; and you say, five years."

  "He is tired and exhausted," said Monsieur de Liancourt; "he hadbetter go and take off these heavy boots, cool his head and hands insome fresh water, and come down to supper, where we will refresh himwith a good cup of wine."

  "I am tired," said the young nobleman, "for I have ridden more thantwenty leagues to-day, so that I will take your advice, my good uncle,and find my way down to the supper-hall when I hear the trumpet."

  Thus saying, he retired, passing through the vestibule, where in oneof the deep windows he saw his old friend Estoc, still busily talkingto the good farmer Chasseron. De Montigni did not stop, however, butmerely said, as he passed by, "Take care of him, Estoc, and seek himout a comfortable room."

  "That I will, Sir," replied Estoc, and continued his conversation.

  The first meeting between the two who now stood together in thewindow, had been somewhat curious. On quitting the hall, the oldsoldier had entered the vestibule with his usual wide and hastystrides; and, as that side of the ch?teau was turned from the sun, sothat it was darker than most other parts of the house, he might nothave seen the man he came in search of, who was seated on a bench nearthe window, had not his attention been called by a voice pronouncingthe word, 'Estoc.'

  Turning quickly round he advanced towards him, and gazed in his face,saying, "You seem to know me, Sir, and methinks I have seen youbefore."

  "You have, my good friend," replied Chasseron; "we have met twice; doyou not remember Michael Chasseron?"

  "I remember Peter Chasseron, right will," replied the old soldier; "hetook me prisoner at St. Jean, and treated me right kindly; but you arenot the same," and while he spoke he continued to examine thecountenance of his companion with great attention.

  "And when he had taken you," replied the farmer, "he brought you tothe person who was in command of the troop. That was his brother. I amthe same. Do you recollect me now?"

  Estoc gazed at him again, and then answered in a significant tone, "Ithink I do; but it is twelve years ago, and you were a young man then.Come into the window and let me look at you."

  "I am the same I tell you," replied Chasseron, moving into the window;"there, take as good a look as you like."

  Estoc did not fail to do so; then cast down his eyes, and bit the sideof his hand with his teeth. "Well," he said, at length, "you are abold man to venture here, all things considered. Do you not know thatwe are all Catholics in this place, and Monsieur de Chazeul one of theforemost of the League, who would think no more of putting you todeath, be the result what it would, than of sitting down to hissupper?"

  "Parbleu! I know it right well," replied Chasseron; "and that is thereason I waited for you here. I am sure that you are not one who wouldbetray me, and as for your leader, the good commander, I would put mylife in his hands without the slightest fear."

  "That you might, that you might," said the old soldier; "and it willbe better to tell him too. But do none of these people know you? Someof them must have seen you. Why, the very name of Chasseron, if theyhad recollected, was enough to make the Marquis cut your throat. Hewould no more hesitate to roast a Huguenot alive in that court-yard,than to kill a stag or a wolf;" and, as he spoke, he looked over hisshoulder to see that no one was coming.

  "He would need two or three to help him," replied Chasseron; "and Ifelt sure that, if I trusted to the young Baron's word, I should findthose within who would take the part of honour. But none of these menhave seen me for years; and when they did, 'twas but for a moment. Youknow in those days I came and went like the lightning. As for the nameof Chasseron, it has long been forgotten too.--But hark ye, Estoc, youlove this young Lord it seems? Now it is for his sake that I have comehither; not for a night's lodging, which I could obtain where I chose.I have heard at C[oe]uvres that they are playing him false here; andthat there are plans afoot for doing him wrong in several ways.Perhaps I may aid him, if I know the facts; and I would fain do so forhis good father's memory. He was as high and honourable a gentleman asany in France. Though adversaries, we were not enemies, and I owed himsomething too for courtesies shown when, God help me, there were fewto show them."

  "Ah! I wish my poor Lord could hear those words," cried Estoc. "Butyou are right, Sir, you are right. They are playing poor Louis false.Wait a bit, and you shall hear more in the course of the evening; andif you can help him, though I doubt it, God will bless you, were youtwenty times a heretic."

  "Parbleu! you must be speedy with your tidings, Master Estoc," saidChasseron, "for I must be away before nine tomorrow. I have got mywheat to dispose of," he added; "a weighty matter in my new trade."

  The old soldier laughed. "I should think, Sir, you would make but apoor farmer," he replied; "but you shall have all my news this verynight. Ha! here comes the young Lord. As soon as he is gone by, I willtell the good old commander that you are in the house; and you shallsee him yourself in his room."

  Before Chasseron could reply, De Montigni passed through thevestibule, as I have before described; but the moment he was gone theold soldier added, "We are to talk with the poor lad while he isdressing, and if I can so manage it, you shall be called to take apart; if not, I will find the means ere night be over. Here come therest--let them pass, and then wait for me. I will be back with you ina minute."

  As he spoke, all those whom we have seen conversing in the hall passedthrough the vestibule, with the exception of Rose d'Albret, whoretired by another door, leading direct to her own apartment. The goodold commander, supporting himself on his stick, was the last thatappeared, with his eyes bent down upon the ground, and his lipsmuttering disconnected sentences to himself. In the semi-darkness thatnow reigned, no one took any notice of Chasseron or his companion; butthe moment that his old leader had reached the opposite door, Estocfollowed, and taking his hand familiarly, put it through his own arm,as if to assist his on his way; but at the same time he bent his headand seemed to whisper. The old commander suddenly stopped gazing inhis face, and then hurried on at a quicker pace than before, inevident agitation.

  In less than two minutes, Estoc returned, saying in a low voice,"Come, Sir, come! he is wild to see you;" and, with a quick step,Chasseron followed him from the room.