We left Louis de Montigni on horseback, in a field near Chartres, ready to exchange the deadly shot with one well practised in the use of every weapon; and though we have given some indications of his fate, we must, nevertheless now return to tell how that morning passed. The Duke of Nemours was, as the reader is well aware, one of the most distinguished members of the League, an enemy of the King, and armed against the life of the young nobleman, who now faced him. The customs of the day, too, rendered the death of an opponent in such a combat, honourable rather than discreditable to the survivor. But, notwithstanding all this, De Montigni had, from the first, felt great reluctance, even to attempt to take the life of his antagonist, and in the terms of duel which he had fixed, he had limited the number of shots, not with any view to his own personal safety; for he was one of those who do not easily apply the thought of danger to their own heart; but in order not to be compelled to injure the Duke.
As soon as Nemours saw that he had placed himself, and had wheeled his horse, he raised his hat and bowed, and then replacing it on his head, took the large pistol with which he was armed, in his right hand, his reins in the left, and striking his spurs into the horse's flank, galloped forward to meet his adversary. He had no hesitation on his part, he had no remorse; but De Montigni was equally calm and cool, for his mind was also made up as to what he should do; and keeping a wary eye upon the Duke, he likewise rode on, though at a slower pace. Nearer and more near they came to each other, with the muzzles of their pistols raised, till--at the distance of about twenty paces--Nemours levelled his weapon straight at his opponent's head. The next moment De Montigni followed his example, but reserved his fire.
The Duke, in truth, did not intend to discharge his pistol at so great a distance; but just at that spot, there was a narrow cut in the field, made for the purposes of irrigation; and, seeing that he must leap it, and thereby shake his hand, Nemours pulled the trigger at once. At that very moment, however, the horse, seeing the little ditch, was rising to the leap, and the Duke's aim was consequently unsteady.
It was more just than might have been expected, indeed, for the ball grazed De Montigni's cheek, and passed through his hat, which was somewhat cast back from his brow. His face was covered with blood in an instant, and he felt himself wounded; but the injury was too slight to move him in any degree, and, without checking his speed, he rode on upon the Duke with his pistol, levelled, producing it must be acknowledged, no very pleasant sensations in his antagonist's bosom. When, within three yards, he slightly turned his hand to the right, and fired.
The ball flew at a considerable distance from Nemours; and the two horses, carried on by their speed, passed each other before they could be reined up. As they went by, however, the Duke exclaimed, "Ah! that is not fair, Monsieur de Montigni."
The young nobleman pulled in the bridle as soon as possible, and returned, inquiring, "What is not fair, my lord?"
"Come, come," said Nemours, as they met, "own you did not fire at me."
"Nay, my lord," replied De Montigni with a slight smile, "You have no right to blame me for my bungling. I fired my pistol; that is enough, though I will own, I am glad to see you uninjured."
"Well, Monsieur de Montigni," rejoined the Duke, "all I know is, that if my horse had not risen to the leap before there was any need, you would now be lying on that grass; and I am very sure that I saw you turn your pistol to the right, or I might have been lying there instead. Confess the fact; is it not so?"
"You must excuse me, Sir," replied De Montigni gravely. "I fired to the best of my judgment; but whatever be your feelings towards me, I am well satisfied that France will not have to reproach me with the death of one of her most gallant Princes, nor the King for having deprived him of one who, I trust, will one day be one of his most faithful subjects. But I must stop this blood, for it is staining all my collar. Had your shot been but two inches to the right, there would have been no need of surgeons."
"I am glad it was not," said Nemours frankly; and, both having dismounted, De Montigni took some of the water from the little cut in the meadow, and washed away the gore from his face.
"Stay, stay," cried the Duke, producing some lint. "I have always some of this about me when I go to the field; and it will soon staunch the blood."
With his own hands he aided to dress the wound which he had made; and they were still thus employed, when a man, dressed in peaceful attire as it was considered in that day--though his apparel consisted of a stout buff coat, a slouched hat, wide crimson breeches, a pair of enormous jack boots, a sword and dagger--rode up, mounted on a strong grey charger. Over his shoulders, suspended by a leathern strap, hung a trumpet ornamented with a banner of the arms of France; and drawing in his rein at the distance of about twenty yards from the two gentlemen, as he was passing on towards the high road, he exclaimed, "Ha, ha, Messieurs, it is a pity, I think, that I was not here some ten minutes earlier. I could have sounded the charge."
"We have done very well without you, my good friend," replied the Duke; "but you seem a trumpet from Henry of Bourbon. What is your errand?"
"That I shall tell to those whom I am sent to," answered the trumpeter.
"Pray who may they be?" demanded Nemours.
"Monsieur de la Bourdasière, and his Highness, the Duke of Nemours," answered the trumpeter. "I shall find them both in Chartres, I suppose?"
"You won't find his Highness of Nemours," said the Duke, laughing; "unless you wait till I come, my friend. But go on, I will soon follow you."
"If you are the Duke," replied the trumpeter, "I may as well give you my letter here, and you can con it over and make up your mind by the way, for I must get back with all speed."
Thus saying, he dismounted from his horse, and led it forward by the bridle towards the Duke, drawing forth a letter, at the same time, from a pouch under his left arm. Nemours took it, cut the silk between the two seals with his dagger, and read the contents.
"This is strange, enough, De Montigni," he said. "This epistle is all about you, except, indeed, a few words which your King has been pleased to add, regarding the advantages which I might obtain by returning, as he terms it, to my allegiance."
"What is his Majesty pleased to say concerning me?" asked De Montigni. "I should scarcely think he knew that I was a prisoner."
"Oh, good faith," exclaimed Nemours. "You are a man of much greater consequence than you imagine. Here, he offers in exchange for your humble self, our good friend, the Marquis de Megnelai, requiring, however, at the same time, the liberty of the fair lady we sent off this morning for Marzay."
"I will beseech you, my lord," replied De Montigni gravely, "not to speak upon that subject, for it is a matter that I cannot easily forgive."
"On my life," cried Nemours, holding out his hand to him frankly, "I am sorry for it, De Montigni; but if it were to be done over again, I should be obliged to do it, for I had pledged my word; and that cannot be broken. I had letters from your cousin Chazeul, the day before the battle, and assured him in return, that if Mademoiselle d'Albret fell into my hands, she should be restored to her guardian. Otherwise, I would not have done it; and now believe me, I love you all the better, for having fought with you. Thus, as before, you are at full liberty to go whithersoever you will; and I leave it to you and the King to settle, whether you will take the exchange of Megnelai, or pay ransom as before agreed. I would prefer the former, as the Marquis must not say that I have neglected any opportunity to set him free; but perhaps the King may not think fit to agree, as the lady cannot be restored according to his demand."
"I should prefer paying my own ransom," replied De Montigni. "The King's goodness is very great; and I can only attribute it to the services of my good uncle, the Commander; but still I would not take advantage of it, if it can be avoided."
"That as you please," replied Nemours; "but the best thing for you now to do, is to return with me to Chartres, and then accompany this good trumpeter back to the Bearnois' head-quarters. We shall not have to detain him long."
De Montigni paused thoughtfully for a moment; but, before he could reply, the King's trumpeter interposed, saying, "I have nothing to take me on to Chartres, Monsieur de Nemours. I was commanded, if I did not find you in the place, to give the letter to Monsieur de la Bourdasière, and tell him to open it; but I have no letter absolutely for him; and if you have settled matters with Monsieur here, I do not see why I should not turn my bridle, and ride back."
"Well then, God speed you both," cried Nemours. "Offer my humble duty to the King of Navarre; tell him, I will write myself in the course of the day, but that, in the meantime, I only regret, my conscience will not let me serve a monarch who has placed himself out of the pale of the church; for a braver man, or a better general, does not live."
Thus saying, he put his foot in the stirrup, and sprang upon his horse's back. Then turning to the young nobleman he continued, "Come, shake hands, Monsieur de Montigni. We will part friends, though we met enemies; and if you would take my advice, you would lose no time in being under the walls of Marzay with a strong hand; for there is no knowing what Maître Chazeul may do. He is playing a fine game with my good kinsman Mayenne. We see it well enough; for, unless he had been looking for his own advantage more than for the good of the League, he would have been upon the field of Ivry, with all his forces, instead of sending forty men under his bailli, which was but a mockery; and so we should not object to see him humbled a little."
"I will take your advice, my lord," replied De Montigni; "but to say truth, I am somewhat puzzled as to my movements. I have not been bred up amongst all these scenes of strife, as you have, and know not how or where to raise a body of men in a few hours, though I hear it is done in France daily."
Nemours laughed. "Gold, gold! Monsieur de Montigni," he replied. "Sides have been so frequently changed, and fortune, the fickle goddess, has spun her wheel round so often, that half France knows not what the other side is fighting for; and thus, I believe, there are at least a hundred thousand men in this good country, who might be enlisted by beat of drum for any cause under heaven, so that it bore upon its banner the significant emblem of a crown piece. Every village is full of them, and you have nothing to do, but to stuff your pockets with testons, ride into the market place, and shout, 'Who will serve De Montigni?' and you will have a score at least after your heels, in half an hour, even if your first command should be, that they all turn Turk!"
He spoke somewhat bitterly; but, though the young nobleman himself was in no very gay mood, he could not help smiling at the picture--too true a one--of the state of France.
"I will try what can be done," he replied; and, mounting his own horse, he rode off with the trumpeter, in one direction, while Nemours pursued his way back to Chartres.
At the gate of that city, a number of the gentlemen who had come thither in attendance upon his own person, and several of the officers of the garrison, were looking anxiously for his return; and, well aware of the object for which he had gone forth, had horses ready saddled to seek him in case he did not soon make his appearance.
"Well, my lord Duke, Well, Sir?" cried half a dozen voices as he rode in amongst them, "you have killed him, I suppose?"
Nemours made no reply; but la Bourdasière, who was at their head, pointed to the stains upon the Duke's hand and sleeve, and, with as much quiet satisfaction as if they were talking of a boar-hunt, exclaimed, "Ay, ay, he has had enough; that is clear. Your arm is all over blood."
Nemours bent down his head to the governor, saying in a low voice, "He is wounded, but not killed. However, the less we talk about it the better, la Bourdasière; for he had my life in his hands, and did not take it. If all that faction would but act as Henry of Navarre and Louis de Montigni, we should soon have France turning heretic for their sake. But, hark you; I have met with a trumpet from the King, demanding this lad's exchange for De Megnelai. There are a few words in the end of the letter, which make me suspect that Henry will not march on at once to Paris, but that we may have him upon our hands here, before many days be over. You must call in all your parties as fast as possible, and send a messenger at once to Marzay after the people who have gone with De Mottraye. Tell them to make no halt, but to return immediately."
"I have got tidings of the same kind too," replied la Bourdasière, "and I only waited your return to send; for I knew not if you had any message for Monsieur de Chazeul."
"No," answered the Duke thoughtfully. "No: he is not to be depended on; but dispatch your man as quickly as possible."
This whispered conversation, the blood upon Nemours' hand and sleeve, and the fact of his having returned alone from the field, was quite sufficient to give rise to the rumour of De Montigni's death, which soon became current in Chartres. The truth was known indeed, before nightfall; but long ere the report was corrected, the messenger was on his way to Marzay, bearing the tidings as he had first heard them.
De Montigni rode on thoughtfully, for a few minutes, not a little embarrassed how to act. To go to the King seemed absolutely necessary; and yet he could not but feel, that every step he took was carrying him farther and farther from the spot where he wished to be. To present himself at Marzay without attendants or friends, he knew well, from all the tales that had reached his ears, of the dark proceedings which took place from time to time in the bosom of the noblest families of France, might be a most dangerous experiment. Not that he believed Monsieur de Liancourt would suffer him to receive injury, if he could help it; but he doubted that the Count would be able to prevent the schemes of others from taking effect; and he dreaded a long imprisonment at that particular moment, almost as much as loss of life. Yet every hour's delay ere he made some effort once more to free Rose d'Albret, or, at least, to assert his claim to her hand, was tedious and terrible to him. Turning at length, to the trumpeter who rode on silently by his side, he inquired, "Well, my friend, where did you leave the King?"
"At a place called Rosni, I think," replied the man; "not far from the town of Mantes."
"You think!" said De Montigni; "are you not sure where you left him?"
"One cannot be sure of anything, in this world," replied the trumpeter dryly; "but that was not what I meant. I intended to say, I think the place is called Rosni, for I am a stranger in this part of the world. France is a big country, Monsieur; and I come from a good distance on the other side of Libourne, so I may well be forgiven for not having got all these names by heart."
"What rumour did you hear of the King's movements?" asked De Montigni.
"The last noise I heard of his movements," answered the man, "was a great deal of blowing of horns."
"And pray on what occasion was that?" demanded De Montigni.
"On the occasion of the King going out to hunt," was the reply. "His Majesty having chased Mayenne, thought fit to run after a braver beast, though it could scarcely run faster than the other."
"But was there no mention of going to Paris?" said the young nobleman.
"Why, good faith, everybody was talking of it, and nobody doing it," replied his dry companion; "but if you must needs know all, Sir, men whispered in one another's ears that the King's pockets were empty, and that his financiers kept them so on purpose."
"For what object?" demanded De Montigni.
"To put the money in their own pocket which they kept out of his," answered his companion. "Try the thing with your own farmers, Sir, and you will find the same happen. You will get no money till you go to fetch it that you may be sure of."
"I hope I shall," answered De Montigni, "for I have much need of it just now."
"Ah, poor young gentleman," replied the trumpeter; "I am sorry for you; for those who want money, and don't choose to go and fetch it, will soon have to ride in holey boots. However, why should a subject be better off than a king? I have seen our Henry before now, with a hole in the elbow of his pourpoint; and many a time he has been glad to dine off pumpkin soup and a lump of black bread."
"Poor fare, assuredly, for a Monarch," said De Montigni musing; "and yet the want of money may produce worse disasters than that, my friend,--especially where time is almost life."
"Assuredly, Sir," answered the trumpeter; "but perseverance comes to the aid of all. I thought I never should have got to Chartres this morning; for there are all sorts of bands roving the country, who have no more respect for a trumpet or a flag of truce, than they have for an old cheese, or a maid's modesty."
De Montigni remained silent for several minutes; but at length he said, "I wish I could meet with one of those bands you speak of."
"By my faith and honour, Sir," replied his companion with a laugh, "you may meet with one of them sooner than you would find pleasant. They are as easy to be found as cow-slips in the spring, but not quite so fragrant."
"They might answer my purpose, however," said the young Baron. "I suppose they would take service with any one who would pay them?"
"Ay, that they would," rejoined the trumpeter; "though you might find some honour amongst them too, notwithstanding all that Monsieur de Nemours said just now. Your furious Leaguer--unless he were a gentleman--would not sell himself to the King, for any money; and your stiff Protestant would not go over to the League for gold and roast meat. But there are plenty of birds between those two flights, who care not a straw on which side they appear, so that they fight, plunder, and get paid."
In such conversation De Montigni and his companion rode on for about an hour and a half, the young nobleman every now and then falling into a fit of thought, and revolving, with doubt and hesitation, the course he had to pursue. Lose Rose d'Albret, he was resolved he would not, without using every effort in his power; and yet he feared that, in the lawless state to which France had been reduced by long years of civil contention, she might be driven, if not to wed Chazeul--for that he believed nothing would induce her to do--at least to take those monastic vows which would place as impassable a barrier between them. To his just claims, he knew a deaf ear would be turned by those who had her in their hands; and no means seemed feasible to deliver her but force; and yet his heart revolted at the idea of taking arms against him by whom he had been nurtured and protected in his early years, and of attacking the dwelling where all his young and happy days had been passed. Yet "desperate evils," he thought, "require a desperate remedy; and that which is refused to justice, must be obtained by force." His mind then again reverted to the means; and, at length, he settled upon the plan of endeavouring to join the band of the Commander de Liancourt, of whose death it must be remembered he was ignorant. He knew that his uncle had been upon the way to join the King; and though he had not seen him in the fight of Ivry, the old soldier might well have been there, he thought; for, in the hurry and confusion of the field, and the disguise which the arms then worn afforded, two brothers might stand within a few yards of each other, without the slightest recognition taking place. As he thus meditated, he turned to his companion and inquired, if he had been at the field of Ivry.
"To be sure I was," replied the man; "and blew till I thought I should have burst my cheeks. The first thing that made Mayenne's standard begin to flap backwards and forwards, was the wind of my trumpet."
"Did you chance to hear of or see the old Commander de Liancourt?" asked the young nobleman; "and if you did, can you tell me what has become of him?"
"See him, I did not," said the man, "for he was boxed up in his arms like a crab in his shell. But when he came up behind the Cornette Blanche, I asked who he was, and they told me. As to what became of him, I do not know, for I lost him in the battle."
"Did you hear anything, then, of one Monsieur de Chasseron?" asked De Montigni.
"No," replied the man; "was he there? I knew his brother very well, if that will do; he who was killed at Contras."
"No, that will not do," said De Montigni. "It was of a gentleman, who was with the King the night before this last battle, I spoke."
"I did not see him," answered the trumpeter; and there the conversation dropped; but scarcely had five minutes passed, before three horsemen were seen riding towards them at a quick pace. "Now," cried the trumpeter, "you may have a chance of beginning your band. Here come some folks who seem as if they were seeking employment."
"I think I have a chance, indeed," replied the young nobleman with a smile, as he recognized one of his own servants, at the head of the party. "If I mistake not, these men will join us at a word."
The next moment the horsemen rode up, and great was their joy to see the young Baron again; for, besides the man who had been long with him in Italy, were two of those who had accompanied him and Rose d'Albret in their flight from Marzay. He now learned that, having heard of his capture by the Duke of Nemours, and that he had been carried a prisoner to Chartres, they were riding with all speed towards that city, in order to offer him their services during his captivity.
But though De Montigni was certainly rejoiced at their coming, his satisfaction was sadly clouded by the intelligence they brought of his good uncle's death. Many a question did he ask, and many a long detail did they give, of the scene which closed the preceding night at the farm-house on the banks of the Eure; and amongst other facts which were now communicated to him, was the intention of Estoc, as soon as he could make his preparations, to carry the body of his dead leader to the chapel at Marzay.
"He must wait some time before he can set out," added the servant, "and, if we make haste, we may join him on the way; for I am sure, Sir, you would like to be present at the good old knight's funeral."
"Undoubtedly," replied De Montigni, "on every account I should wish to be there. Do you know what road Estoc will take?"
"I cannot tell, Sir," replied the man, "but I should think he would not be able to march from St. André, before to-morrow morning."
"Then let us direct our course thither, with all speed," said De Montigni. "Which road ought we to take?"
"We could not do better than follow the one we are upon," answered the man who had served him as a guide towards Dreux. "A high road is always better than a by-one, when we have nothing to fear; and the country between this and Nogent Le Roy, is quite clear of the enemy."
"By my faith, I do not know that," replied the trumpeter. "I know I was obliged to go round two miles, to get out of the way of a party all decked out with crosses of Lorraine."
"Nonsense, nonsense," cried the servant; "if we did meet twenty or thirty of them, they would run at the very sight of us. Every village that we passed, was mounting the white scarf; and a flood of loyalty has overflowed the land, which threatens to wash the League out of France."
Without farther debate, De Montigni led the way on upon the road they were travelling, anxious, if possible, to reach Aunet that night. But mortal man is destined to meet with impediments in whatever course he may pursue, and many were those which delayed the young nobleman in his progress. The roads were heavy, his horse, and the horses of his followers, wearied by marching during several preceding days; and it was found necessary to halt for an hour at Nogent, in order to refresh them.
It was a beautiful evening in the spring, however, when they once more resumed their way; and the interval of their halt was not ill employed by De Montigni, in writing a letter to the King, expressing his gratitude for the monarch's condescension and kindness, informing him of the motives which led him to Marzay, and promising to rejoin him, accompanied by all the force he could muster, with as little delay as possible. This epistle he placed in the hands of the trumpeter, who was to quit them when they turned towards Annet; but, in the meantime, the good man rode on by the young gentleman's side, entertaining him, or at least striving to do so, by his quaint observations on all the circumstances of the time.
Thus proceeding, they had advanced to a spot three or four miles from Nogent, where they paused to consider of their further course on the brow of a little eminence, from which two cross roads were seen branching to the right and left. Although, as the servant had stated, they had found the whole country rapidly resuming its loyalty, as a consequence of the King's success, yet they had learned at Nogent, that the town of Dreux still held out stiffly for the League; and that to attempt the passage under its walls, might be dangerous.
The hill, on which they stood, commanded a wide view over the undulating plain below; and clothing the side of the descent, was a thick low wood already beginning to grow red with the first promise of the spring. About a mile in advance, rose the tower of an old château, even then partially decayed, and of which nothing is now to be found, but one ruined wall rising on the top of a tree-covered mound, which the reader, if he ever travels from Versailles to Dreux, towards the hour of sunset, may see on his left hand, with the light streaming in a long bright ray through the solitary window which time has spared. When I saw it, all the building and the wood below were in deep shadow, except where that solitary beam fell, lighting up one particular track, like some sweet memory in the shady expanse of past-by years.
A little way down the road, when the young Royalist and his followers reached the brow of the hill, from behind a clump of trees which projected somewhat further than the rest, rose a thin column of pale bluish smoke; and the trumpeter, touching De Montigni's arm, pointed it out to him, saying, "Now, Sir, if you wish to increase your band, here's the opportunity. I will wager my trumpet against a cow-herd's horn, that under those trees there is a party of good gentlemen boiling their pot, and not knowing how to fill it to-morrow."
"The more I can gain, the better," replied De Montigni; "but I have little time to spare. How many men had Monsieur Estoc with him?" he continued, turning to his servant.
"Fifteen or twenty, I think," replied the man. "I did not count them, but there could not well be less."
"We must have more," said De Montigni; "many more, if it be possible to find them. Let us try what we can do here;" and, somewhat rashly and inconsiderately, he rode down the hill, without further examination. At the first sound of his horse's feet, the figure of a man armed in cuirass and steel cap, came out from behind the trees, as if on the watch; and the young nobleman could see him turn round and speak to some persons behind; and when De Montigni had reached the spot itself, he found four others seated round a fire, apparently engaged in the very peaceable occupation of eating their soup out of a large earthen pot, which stood amongst the ashes. The two parties were equal in number; and the strangers showed no hostile colours, nor, indeed, any alarm; so that De Montigni imagined there could be no risk in pausing for a few moments to talk with them.
"Well, my men," he said, "you seem to be out of employ."
"No, Monsieur," replied one of them, "I think we are very well employed. I wish we were sure of such good occupation to-morrow;" and he laughed as he carried a spoonful of soup to his mouth.
"Perhaps I may be able to furnish it to you," rejoined De Montigni, "if you are willing to take service with me."
The man gazed at him for a moment, and then ran his eye over the young gentleman's companions, pausing for a little, at the figure of the trumpeter, and the royal arms which hung upon his instrument of music.
"We are no way scrupulous, Sir," he said, "all that we require, is good pay down on the day, and a gallant leader, not too particular."
"Good pay you shall have," replied De Montigni, "and that exactly discharged. But I must have obedience to my commands, and no grumbling at plenty of work."
"I see no reason why it should not be a bargain," rejoined the other; "I suppose you are raising a band, Sir?"
"I am," answered De Montigni, "or rather I am seeking to add to a band already raised, but somewhat scanty."
"How many have you got; and how many do you want?" was the next question.
"I have about twenty at command," said the young nobleman, "and wish to treble that number at the least."
"For whose service?" demanded another of the soldiers, rising, in which action he was followed by the rest.
De Montigni paused for a moment, ere he replied, and then said, "For my own in the first place, and then for the King's. But I should think to you, my men, it would not make much difference on whose side you fought, so that you exercise your calling."
"Perhaps not," answered the other; and, turning to his companions, they all spoke together in a low tone for a minute or two. The one who had taken the principal part in the conversation, then advanced closer to De Montigni, inquiring what pay he would give them, if they agreed to do as he wished. But his eye was upon their movements, for there had been something in the tone in which the last few questions had been asked, which seemed to him suspicious; and now perceiving that the other four sauntered leisurely towards a tree, against which their short lances or pikes had been resting, he turned towards his followers, he exclaiming aloud, "Your hands upon your pistols!"
"Why, what are you afraid of?" asked the soldier, in a scoffing tone; but at the same instant, De Montigni's servant shouted, "There are horse upon the hill, Sir! Ride on, ride on!"
The young nobleman turned his rein; but the soldier who was before him, made a sudden spring towards him, and endeavoured to seize his bridle; while the four others cast themselves across the road with their pikes levelled.
The young gentleman, however, was quicker than his antagonist. His sword was out of the sheath in an instant; and before the man, crying "Yield to the Holy League," could grasp his bridle, he dealt him a blow upon the steel cap that made him stagger. A second brought him to his knee; and a third would most likely have dispatched him; but there was no time to be lost; a considerable body of cavalry were coming down at a quick pace; and, heading his men, De Montigni charged the pikemen on the road, who wavered a little at the sight of the maltreatment their comrade had received. Had they stood firm, they might have detained their opponents, till the horse from above had joined them; but a pistol shot from one of the young Baron's followers, stretched the foremost on the ground; and the others gave way at once.
"Quick, Sir, quick!" cried the man who had guided De Montigni from Marzay. "They have green scarfs! We must gallop for our lives!" and, setting spurs to their horses, the whole party rode down the hill at full speed.
It was now a complete flight and pursuit; for the cavalry from above hurried on their horses, with voice and spur; and the royal trumpeter put his instrument to his mouth, and blew a long loud blast, but without ever pausing in his headlong speed. On, on the Royalist party went riding for life and liberty; but the others came quicker still behind them; and near the foot of the hill, the trumpeter's horse made a false step, stumbled, and rolled over with his rider.
"Spur, Sir, spur!" cried the guide, seeing his leader inclined to pause. "This way, this way! We shall distance them among the narrow roads. They are too many to follow fast."
But De Montigni's horse was still fatigued; and the bad state of the by-ways to the right, into which they now struck, made the beast labour and stumble continually. As the man had supposed, a number of the pursuers were quickly left behind; but still some ten or twelve followed; and it soon became evident to the young Baron's party that they must ere long be overtaken.
"We had better turn and fight it out," said De Montigni; "my horse is failing. They cannot force us in this lane."
"No, no, Sir!" cried the guide, "let us on to the old château, at least. If we find the gate open, we can make it good against them; and they dare not stay long before it.--'Tis close at hand!"
"On, then!" cried De Montigni; and touching his charger with the spur once more, they were soon at the foot of the little rise, not more than a hundred yards in length, which led to the building.
Seeing their intention, the pursuers took to their fire-arms, and a pistol-ball or two whizzed amongst them. One struck the guide upon the shoulder; but he was covered with a good buff coat, and the distance was too great for the shot to have any serious effect. The gates stood wide open; the court-yard was covered with grass--the windows closed; and, in a few minutes, the whole of the fugitives were in the court.
De Montigni sprang to the ground, and endeavoured to close the gates; but a pile of rubbish had accumulated against them, and only one valve would swing upon its hinges. Those who followed, were within fifty yards when one of the men, who had ridden on up to the house, exclaimed, "Here, Sir, here, this door is open;" and, casting loose his rein, the young nobleman sprang across the court, up the steps, and into the vacant and desolate hall, just as the enemy poured in through the gates. Two of De Montigni's men led their horses up, and into the building; but the third was so closely pursued, that he was obliged to abandon his beast; and the heavy door was only just closed when the Leaguers were on the steps.
"Quick! run round and see that every door and window is fast!" exclaimed the young Baron to his little party: "On that depends our safety;" and he himself setting the example, hurried from room to room, and from passage to passage, while those without seemed to hold a consultation together; and some hammered violently against the wood-work with the but-end of their large pistols, and strove to force the staples, by their united strength. Two doors at the back were found open, but were soon secured; and though some of the windows were not closed, and indeed, were without either their glass or frames, yet they were too high from the ground to be reached from without, without the aid of ladders.
In about five minutes, De Montigni and his men were once more assembled in the hall, and their little council was soon held.
"They will never venture to stay long," cried one.
"And they cannot force us here without axes or hammers," exclaimed another.
"We must not let them try," answered De Montigni, "who has got powder and ball? My pistol is unloaded."
"I have," said one, "but it is a scanty stock;" and he approached his horse, which stood panting with a drooping head and heavy eye in the midst of the hall.
"I have a good supply," cried the servant. "Thanks to Monsieur Estoc. He said I might want it;" and taking his master's pistol he charged it with powder and ball.
"Now follow to the windows above," said De Montigni; "you Ralph, and you Martin. Let the other stay here, and watch through that key-hole."
Thus saying, he led the way up the stairs--which entered, at the other end of the hall--to the rooms above the doorway; the windows of which were wide open and without any defence. The sill, however, was itself breast high; and creeping, with his loaded pistol in his hand, towards the casement which, he calculated, was immediately above the steps, De Montigni looked out into the court. A greater number of the Leaguers had by this time come up; and the open space contained at least twenty men. In the centre of the court, was a group of five or six, surrounding the poor trumpeter, who was remonstrating loudly against the stopping of a flag of truce, but apparently in vain; for they had stripped him of the pouch he carried under his arm, and one of them was busily reading the very letter to the King, which De Montigni had written at Nogent. Closer to the château, were several others; and one, wearing a gay green scarf, was standing behind a man who, bending down his head, was looking through the large key-hole of the door. The young nobleman beckoned to his men, who had remained a step or two behind, to come quietly up; and as they advanced, bending low to avoid being seen, he whispered to them to follow his example; and then singling out the Leaguer of the green scarf, he levelled his pistol and fired.
The man instantly fell back, and rolled down the steps into the court, and the two servants discharging their weapons at the same time, cast the group in the centre into marvellous confusion, severely wounding two of those who composed it.
De Montigni instantly retreated from the room to charge again; but, as soon as he had reached the passage beyond, the man who had accompanied him from Marzay, whispered in his ear, "Do you know who they are? Pardi, that was a good shot of yours, Sir!--you knocked over the Bailli de Chazeul. We shall have to fight for our lives, however, if they know who you are; for doubtless orders have been sent to bring you in, dead or alive."
"The Bailli de Chazeul!" repeated De Montigni in surprise. "Ay, I remember Monsieur de Nemours mentioned he had been sent to Mayenne's force. But we must act, not talk. I should be sorry to believe my cousin would give any commands contrary to the rights of blood; but if he have done so, the more need of gallant defence; and here we can surely maintain ourselves till help arrives."
"Oh, yes!" answered the man in a confident tone; "they can neither force nor starve us, while we have these good doors for our defence, and two horses to eat."
Without further consultation, De Montigni returned to the window with the same precautions as before; but he found that the whole party of Leaguers had retired to the other side of the court, and were gathered together round the wounded men. The air was now growing grey with twilight; and even if he could have seen to take a just aim, the distance was too great to afford a chance of doing any damage to the enemy. The eyes of several of those below were turned towards the windows; and, catching a glance of a man's head, raised somewhat above the stone work, one of them exclaimed, "There! there!" loud enough for the sound to reach his ears. The next thing he expected was a volley; but the moment after a man advanced waving a white handkerchief, and crying "Truce! truce!"
De Montigni was silent, till the Leaguer coming nearer demanded, "Is the Baron de Montigni amongst you?--nay, we know he is!"
"Well," answered the young nobleman, raising his head, "what if he be!"
"Then let him surrender to the Holy Catholic League," replied the man, "and take quarter."
"If you be really of the Roman Catholic League," replied the young nobleman, "you have nought to do but to retire; for Monsieur de Montigni is furnished with a pass from the Duke of Nemours. But if you be plunderers and marauders, as I strongly suspect, keep your distance, for you cannot force us here, and the attempt will cost you dear, as you must have learned by this time."
The man retired a step or two, and after consulting for a minute with those behind, he again came forward, saying, "If you have got a pass, Monsieur de Montigni, come down and show it."
"Will any three amongst you, being gentlemen, be hostages that the pass shall be respected?" demanded De Montigni, "otherwise I open not the doors."
"Mark you, Monsieur le Baron," cried another who seemed to be of a superior rank, advancing from behind, and speaking in an angry tone. "You had better surrender, for we are resolved to have you; and though we have not tools to-night, we will watch you well, and force your gates to-morrow morning. We will give you till day-break to consider; but if you yield not with the first ray of the sun, we will pile up the doors with faggots and burn you out."
"Long ere to-morrow morning our friends will be here," replied De Montigni; "and you will be caught in your own trap. So do as you list gentlemen, but think not to deceive us, for we will keep good watch too."
"We know better, we know better," answered the last speaker. "The Bearnois is at Mantes, his forces dispersing, and he himself going on to Meulan. So we shall rest quiet enough, and to-morrow will see you our prisoner, or roasted like an egg in the ashes. You have wounded one of our best men, I fear, to death; and you shall not escape us; but if you surrender to-night you shall have good quarter."
"That I will never," cried De Montigni; "and if one of you be wounded to death, many another shall fall before you place the faggots that you talk of; and so no more; for if you come nearer I will fire."
The spokesman of the Leaguers retiring slowly, seemed to consult for a few minutes with the rest; and then, carrying away two in their arms, while another walked supported by one of his companions, the whole body retreated from the court; but by the remaining light they might be seen to halt just beyond the walls; and one small party was observed to detach itself to the right and a second to the left, as if to guard the other sides of the building. A single horseman, too, rode off in the direction of the hill from which they had come down in pursuit; and it was evident that their present intention was to keep their word of remaining before the château all night.