Helen De La Tremblade sat alone in the priest's room; and sad and terrible were the thoughts that crossed her mind. It may seem that to have found one even out of many, though but a mere boy, sincerely attached, and willing to risk all and sacrifice all, for her happiness and deliverance, might well have brought, cheering consolation to her heart.Hecould have no concealed motive.Hehad no dark treachery to practise. There, in his young enthusiasm, he had stood before her, a friend indeed. But what was the errand on which he had been sent?--the errand which he had refused to fulfil?--To bear her poison!--to consign her to the grave at the mandate of one who had promised with specious and sweet-spoken words, to guard, protect, cherish, watch over her.--To consign her to the dark and silent grave! Such had been the command of the Marchioness de Chazeul, after having neglected, abandoned, ill-treated her.
There were glimpses of some of the darkest realities of earth breaking on the mind of one who had lived her youth as in a dream; and oh, how cold, and more cold, grew her heart, as proof after proof was given of what human beings can become, when Godless, and heartless, they give themselves up to the mastery of strong passion. It was more than even the kindness of the poor boy could compensate, though she had found some relief in every word he spoke.
She sat and gazed upon the poisoned drink, with thoughts, almost approaching to madness, flashing through her brain. She asked herself, "Shall I drink it?--Then pain, and anguish, and remorse, and shame, will be all over. I shall be delivered from all this weight, this intolerable burden. I shall be free.-They cannot say I did it.--It is no fault of mine. They sent it to me. They are murderers, not I.--Oh, how I long to be at rest!--But Rose, dear, good Rose,--I must not leave her to struggle on unaided. And yet it were a pleasant thing to die; but for the terrible world beyond the grave.--Oh no, I must not, dare not, die, with all my sins upon my head. I must have time for penitence and prayer.--The boy said he would soon be here. I will see," and opening the window, she looked down to the bottom of the deep corridor, or passage, between the château and the walls.
There was nobody there, however. All was solitary; and even on the ramparts, the scanty watch had dwindled away to nothing; every one who dared, hurrying away to witness the gay wedding of Mademoiselle d'Albret, and all making their own comments upon the decency and propriety which their noble lord and master displayed in burying his brother, and marrying his nephew on the selfsame morning.
The eye of Helen de la Tremblade ran along the wall towards the chapel, in which she had found her uncle, on her first arrival, not many hours before; and she examined every prominent point, attentively. First came a large mass of masonry containing some of the best rooms in the château, projecting from the rest of the building; then appeared a round tower with a turret fastened to its side; and then the roof of the chapel, built against the walls, was seen with part of one window, peeping out from behind the tower. But all the way down, neither on the walls, nor between them and the château, could Helen descry any one.
As her eye strayed casually, however, to some low trees and bushes, which ran down the slope in the neighbourhood of the chapel, she thought she saw something move amongst the grey branches, but could not distinguish what; and, as she was gazing more eagerly to trace the object as it proceeded, she heard high tones speaking in the adjacent room; and turned to listen. She recognized the voices of Monsieur de Liancourt and Rose d'Albret; but she could not catch the words that were uttered, though some of them were spoken loud and in apparent anger.
"He has come to take her," said Helen to herself, "and she will not go.--Oh, that I could aid her!"
Her first impulse was to approach nearer the door, in order to push back the lock with the dagger which the boy had left with her; but then she reflected, that singly, she could do nothing to prevent the Count from dragging poor Rose to the altar.
"No!" she said, re-seating herself near the window, and a look of dark and gloomy determination coming over her face. "No! I will let them take her away--and then I will confront them all.--Ay, in the hall, amidst menials and soldiers and friends; and they shall hear truth.--Hark, how loud he speaks! He is threatening her.--Poor Rose! 'Tis all silent now--she must be gone!--Hark, the door bangs to!--They have dragged her away. Now, boy, now; for I must follow soon."
She ran hastily to the window again, and gazed out. The page was not yet there; and Helen hesitated whether to wait or hurry away to the hall.
At that moment, the sound of a hunting horn reached her ear, and she looked up from the passage between the walls, on which her eyes had been bent, to the undulating country straight before her, beyond the defences of the château. There was a large party of horsemen issuing from the nearest wood, distant about half a mile; and Helen, with her quick fancy cried, "It may be De Montigni!"
But just then, from the bushes beyond the chapel, a man on foot darted forth, and ran round, as if he perceived her at the window. She instantly recognized Estoc, and stretched her head farther forward, in order that he might certainly see her. The old soldier paused immediately opposite, and came as near to the wall as he could, without losing sight of her; and then he raised his voice, and pointed with his hand to the party of horsemen--still advancing.
But the distance rendered most of his words indistinct, and Helen caught only the few last, "--The postern a little to your right--before they can arrive; for they have barred us out by the chapel," was all that she could distinguish.
"Then these are enemies coming," she thought; "and all depends upon Estoc getting in first."
She tried to make him hear in vain; her weaker voice was lost in air; but just as she was about to withdraw, force back the lock, run down and open the postern, she saw the figure of the page coming round the square tower. He had a heavy basket on his arm, and was proceeding, with his eyes cast down, to wind up, with boyish habits, a quantity of string upon a piece of wood; but Helen called aloud, "Philip! Philip!"
The boy looked up. "Run round, without a moment's delay," cried Helen, "and open the first postern to the west; show yourself beyond, and you will find Estoc.--Run, Philip, run, if you would save us all."
The boy threw down the basket, and sped forward as rapidly as possible. Helen saw the postern unlocked and pushed open; and then withdrawing from the window, she murmured, "Now then, to stop them till help arrives! I will at least do that, if it cost my life or that of others.--He said my uncle was in the room at the bottom of the great staircase. Perhaps I can set him free too;" and, hastening to the door which led out at once at the top of the stairs, she easily forced back the lock with the well-tempered blade of the boy's poniard, and threw it open. She started, however, on seeing the maid, Blanchette, straight before her; but resolved to pass at all risks, she grasped the dagger firmly in her hand, and gazed upon the girl's countenance for an instant.
It was as pale as death; but Blanchette, seeing her thus pause and look at her, exclaimed, "Pass on, Mademoiselle Helen--pass on to the hall. You may see things there that you do not expect.--I wont stop you.
"Woe to those who try!" vehemently cried Helen; and darting on without another word, she descended that flight of stairs, and passed through the corridor below. An old man met her as she went, but started back as if she had been a spectre; and Helen hurried forward, reached the foot of the great staircase, rushed towards the chamber, which the boy had mentioned as her uncle's place of confinement.
The door was locked, and the key had been taken out; the lock too was in the inside. Helen shook the door wildly, and exclaimed, "Are you there? are you there?"
"I am," replied the voice of her uncle from within. "Is that you, Helen?"
"Yes," cried the girl, "How can I let you out quickly?"
"Run up the passage," cried the priest, "and take the key out of the last door on the right hand. It fits this lock."
Helen flew rather than ran, returned with the key, unlocked the door, and threw it open.
"Quick, quick!" she cried. "There is not a minute to spare. They are now forcing her to the marriage; but I will confront them all. I will stop them or die!" and with her whole frame thrilling with excitement, her eyes flashing with unnatural light, and the wildness almost of insanity in her look, she darted away, up the great staircase, through the corridor at the top, and reached the door of the hall. Before it, stood the man Martin, who as soon as he beheld, her, exclaimed "Ah, Mademoiselle Helen! you cannot pass here."
"Stand back, or I will stab you to the heart!" exclaimed Helen, raising the dagger; and as he retreated a step to avoid the blow that seemed ready to descend, she darted forward, and, before he could stop her, was in the midst of the hall.
All had been prepared in the great hall of the Château de Marzay for the marriage of Rose d'Albret with Nicholas de Chazeul, as far as the time and circumstances would admit. A few of such flowers, as the early season of the year afforded, had been gathered to strew the floor, or to form into nosegays. Various old banners and decorations had been brought forth, to give an appearance of splendor and gaiety to the scene; and if friends and relations had not been summoned to honour the occasion, their places were filled up by the servants and attendants of the family, dressed in their best attire. All Madame de Chazeul's maids were there, all the women servants of the château, with the sole exception of Blanchette, who, as the reader knows, had remained in her mistress's apartments.
But the principal group in the room, was stationed near the table, in the midst, on which lay the contract of marriage, neatly tied with white riband, and surrounded by a chaplet of violets and snow-drops. That group consisted of the young Marquis de Chazeul, dressed in all the most extravagant finery of that extravagant day, of the Marchioness his mother, and the notary public of the Holy Roman Empire, who, called upon continually to deal with great people, was conversing familiarly with his two companions, and giving them his advice how to proceed in certain cases, which they had suggested for his consideration.
When first Madame de Chazeul had entered the room, she was followed by her page; but in the conversation which succeeded, between herself, the notary, and her son, she did not remark that the boy slipped away quietly and quitted the hall, without attracting the attention of any one.
The reader will have the kindness to remember that, as I described this hall at first, it might be entered by three different doors; the one communicating with the great staircase, by means of a short corridor with deep windows at the south end; another leading, by a separate passage, to the apartments of the Count de Liancourt, and to those which Rose d'Albret had formerly occupied; and the third on the western side, giving exit to the walls, by the little flying bridge, which we have more than once already mentioned.
As it was the door on the north by which Rose d'Albret and the Count were expected to enter, the eyes of the whole party were turned, from time to time, in that direction; but yet, for more than a quarter of an hour after the Marchioness de Chazeul had entered, no one else appeared; and she herself seemed to be, as probably she really was, somewhat anxious and impatient of the long delay which took place. Every one remarked that her face looked pale, notwithstanding her rouge, and that a sort of sharp and irritable twitching about the muscles of the mouth and nostril displayed itself in a manner which none of them had ever seen before.
At the end of that quarter of an hour, she advanced to the table at the further side of the hall, where various refreshments had been set out, and drank a quantity of water and some wine. Then she sat down; and then she rose again; and then advancing to her son, she whispered, "How long they are! I fear your uncle has been fool enough to let her argue with him, instead of stopping her at once."
"But just as she spoke, the door was thrown sharply open, and the Count de Liancourt himself appeared, accompanied by poor Rose d'Albret. She was as pale as death; and before she entered she paused, and put her hand twice to her head, as if her brain grew giddy; but Monsieur de Liancourt took her by the arm, not quite as gently as might be, and led her into the hall. All parties made way, and formed a circle round the table, on which the contract lay, leaving sufficient space for the principal parties to advance and sign the document.
"I am faint," said Rose, as the Count hurried on; "give me some water."
"Give her some water, give her some water," cried the Count. "Mademoiselle d'Albret is somewhat faint."
Chazeul instantly sprang to the other table, and fetched a cup of water; but when he brought it, Rose put it aside, with a look of disgust, replying, "Not from your hand!" and, seeming to recover strength and courage from the effort, she took a step forward as if towards the table.
The notary immediately advanced with the pen in his hand, saying, "The contract has been read, Mademoiselle, by your guardian, Monsieur de Liancourt, on your part, and by Monsieur de Chazeul on his own. It is, therefore, doubtless, unnecessary to read it over to yourself, as they are quite satisfied."
"Oh! quite unnecessary," cried the Count. "Point out where she is to sign."
"Stay a moment," cried Rose d'Albret; "I told you, Sir, before I came hither, that I did not intend to sign this paper--that nothing shall ever induce me to sign it: and my only object in appearing here now, is to protest before all these witnesses, that I will never be the wife of Nicholas de Chazeul."
Looks of surprise passed round the greater part of the crowd; and many of them whispered to their neighbour, inquiring what would be done next, while Madame de Chazeul stepped forward with a flashing eye, and a quivering lip to say something in a low tone to her brother, and Nicholas de Chazeul, stretching out his tall form to its full height, tossed back his head with a look of scornful indignation.
"What says Monsieur de Liancourt?" said the notary, who had received his instructions from the Marchioness. "Does he admit of this protest? for the lady, I conceive, must act by her guardian."
"No, I do not admit it," cried the Count. "I insist that the marriage go forward. Is it competent for me to sign on her behalf?"
The notary hesitated. "No," he said, at length; "I think we must have her signature."
"That you shall never have," replied Rose. "I would rather cut off my hand."
"I would pass over ceremonies, Sir, if I were you," said the notary, speaking to the Count in a whisper. "The lady's hand can be guided over the paper."
"It shall be done," replied the Count; and Madame de Chazeul beckoned up one of her men, saying in an under voice to her brother, "do it suddenly, and it will be over before she is aware."
"In the first place," rejoined the notary, in the same tone, "to make it all formally right, we had better inquire whether there be any one who wishes to take act of opposition to the marriage.--You are sure of all in the hall, I suppose?"
The Marchioness nodded her head; and the notary proceeded to demand, in a louder voice, if there was any one who had any lawful cause of opposition to the marriage, between Nicholas, Marquis de Chazeul, and Rose Demoiselle d'Albret.
There was a sudden noise at the other side of the hall, even while he was speaking, and the moment after he had ceased, a voice, sweet and melancholy though clear and firm, exclaimed, "I have;" and, as the crowd broke away, and turned towards the spot whence the sounds issued, Helen de la Tremblade advanced, and stood directly opposite the Marquis de Chazeul and his mother.
Chazeul turned first as red as fire, and then as pale as ashes; and the Marchioness stood by his side, not with the rage and vehemence which might have been supposed, not with the ready command of resources and the power, as well as the will, to bear down opposition, but with her teeth chattering, her face pale, her lips white, and her limbs trembling.
"I feel ill," she said, "I feel ill.--I must have taken the wrong cup.--Chazeul, I feel ill."
But none attended to her; for the notary had turned to Helen de la Tremblade, and was inquiring in a formal but scornful tone, what were the grounds of her opposition, when another voice was heard, exclaiming "These!" and father Walter strode forward and took her by the hand, holding forth an open letter, "These are the grounds of her opposition," he said, "inasmuch as she is contracted with Monsieur de Chazeul,par paroles de future."
The notary turned and looked to Monsieur de Liancourt, who exclaimed, in a furious tone, "They are all in a conspiracy to stop the marriage. I will have it go forward as I have sworn."
"You can pass over this objection, Sir," said the notary. "If it be at all valid, it may be pleaded hereafter in nullification."
"Well, then, pass it over," cried the Count. "Will you sign, Mademoiselle d'Albret?"
"Never!" answered Rose, firmly. "Never! so help me God!"
"Then thus I will make you," muttered Monsieur de Liancourt; and, seizing her suddenly by the wrist, he dragged her forward to the table; and while the man, René, stood behind to prevent her escape, he placed the pen partly in her hand, partly held it in his own, and was actually running it over the paper, before Rose was well aware of what he was doing.
"I protest, in the name of God, and the Holy Catholic Church, against this violent and outrageous act!" exclaimed Walter de la Tremblade, lifting up his hands to Heaven.
"Hold!" cried a voice of thunder at the same moment; and, striding forward through the crowd, a stout short man, with a grey beard and hair, dressed in a plain suit of russet brown, advanced to the table, and struck the pen out of Monsieur de Liancourt's hand, exclaiming, "Hold! Hear a word or two first!--Parbleu! you make quick work of it!"
The Count laid his hand upon his sword, demanding fiercely, "Who are you, insolent villain?"
"Why, this is that man, Chasseron," cried Chazeul. "What have you to do with this affair, Sir?"
"Why, Ventre Saint Gris! I oppose the marriage," cried Chasseron, "as the lady's cousin."
"Her cousin!" exclaimed Chazeul, bursting into a scornful laugh. "Who ever heard of you before?"
"That will not avail, unless you can prove your relationship," exclaimed Monsieur de Liancourt, looking to the notary.
But that worthy officer was gazing down upon the ground somewhat pale in the face; and Chasseron, in his bluff way, replied, "Will that not do?--Pardi, then, this will!" and, drawing his sword, he laid it naked upon the table. Then, taking up the contract of marriage, he tore it to atoms.
Chazeul sprang towards him with fury in his countenance. But the notary darted in between, holding up both his hands, and exclaiming, "The King! the King!"
"The King!" cried Chazeul staggering back.
"The King!" exclaimed Monsieur de Liancourt, gazing upon him.
"The King! the King!" cried many voices in the hall; and at least one half added, "Vive Henri Quatre!"
"Even so, my good friends," said Henry. "Monsieur de Liancourt, you will excuse me for taking such liberties in your château. I have been obliged to make it my halting-place this morning, with about a couple of hundred of my friends, who have just been hunting with me in these woods. But we shall all depart before night, and leave you in full possession of your own again, as I came with no hostile intention, but merely to do a little act of justice. And now, my fair cousin," he continued, turning to Rose d'Albret, "you must prepare for a journey to-night, for we intend to take you with us."
"My lord the King," said the Count de Liancourt, assuming a tone of dignity for a last effort. "I have to beg that, whatever you do, you would abstain from meddling with the arrangements of my family."
"Parbleu!" exclaimed Henry, "what would the man have? Without, there!--Send in the captain of the guard and a file of soldiers. Either as a friend or an enemy, Monsieur de Liancourt--either as a good and obedient subject, or a rebel against his King!--You shall act which character you please, and I will behave accordingly. In the mean time, Sir, this lady is no longer your ward; for, let me tell you, that you have attempted to violate the contract with her father, by means--of which the less we say the better. It shall be my task to carry that contract into execution. Ha! the guard!--Attach Monsieur de Chazeul for high treason--But! what have we got here?" he continued, looking to a spot a little behind the Count, where the servants of Madame de Chazeul had placed her in a chair and gathered round her. "A dead woman, I think!--By my life! my old acquaintance, Jacqueline de Chazeul!"
"Good God, my mother!" exclaimed Chazeul darting towards her: but the hand that he took was cold and inanimate; and, "the poisoned chalice" she had prepared for others, had worked too certainly upon herself.
At first, it was supposed, she did but faint: but the truth was soon ascertained; and when Chazeul rose from his knee, and turned round to the rest of the party, he beheld what was to him a more painful sight than even that on which he had been just gazing. It was Rose d'Albret in the arms of Louis de Montigni: while Monsieur de Liancourt, with all his assumed firmness gone, was apparently making amends to the King by courtesy and explanation, for the tone which he had at first assumed towards him.
But, in another part of the hall stood Helen de la Tremblade, with her hand in that of her uncle, while her eyes were buried on the old man's shoulder; and around,--at each door of the hall, and filling up the whole of one side,--were seen the scarred and weather-beaten faces of the veteran royalist soldiery, with their white scarfs over their shoulders, and their naked swords in their hand.
Chazeul turned again to the form of his dead mother, and then once more bent his eyes on Helen de la Tremblade. "It is the hand of God!" he murmured. "It is the hand of God!" and then, as the captain of the guard advanced to arrest him, he said, "Wait one moment," and strode across the room towards the priest and his niece.
"Helen," he said in a low tone, "Helen, I have done you wrong.--I am ready to make atonement.--Will you be my wife?"
"No!" cried Helen, turning round towards him, "No!--My fate is fixed. The cloister is the only shelter for one whose heart has been trampled on like mine."
"Nay, nay!" cried Henri Quatre stepping forward. "Remember, my fair friend, penitence should be always accepted. Were it not so, how should I ever find grace, as I yet hope to do?--Nay, suffer me to be the mediator. Here, Monsieur de Chazeul," he continued, taking Helen's hand, and placing it in that of the Marquis. "Take her: and if she have loved you too well heretofore, it is a thousand chances to one that you soon teach her to mend that fault, when you are her husband.--However, you shall have fair room to try; for we must not cage so promising a bridegroom. Captain, we shall not want your good offices for the present."
The augury of the King was unhappily but too correct; and two years had barely elapsed, when Helen, Marchioness of Chazeul, retired for ever from the busy world, with the consent of her husband, to the convent of a sisterhood of cloistered nuns.
Footnote 1: This phenomenon was seen distinctly by many persons in both armies, immediately before the battle of Ivry, and was visible over an extent of more than twenty leagues.
Footnote 2: The duel of one to one, without seconds or witnesses, was not uncommon at this time in France, especially when men were of high rank, and wished to void a serious quarrel without danger of interruption. They often also took place on horseback with the pistol, but Monsieur de Monteil is wrong in stating under the reign of Henry IV., that it was a new custom to introduce seconds into duels. During the reign of Charles IX. and Henry III., the practice of fighting with a number of seconds who all took part in the affray, was general; and in the famous challenge of Henry IV. himself, when King of Navarre, to the Duke of Guise, he offered to fight him one to one, two to two, or ten to ten.