Bf;SWl* : l^f*t ; i^S^|^ i HT^fT' f ''^
 
 THE 
 
 KING AND THE COUNTESS. 
 
 A ROMANCE. 
 
 What idle dream 
 
 Of long-past days hath melted me ? It fades 
 It vanishes I am again a King ! 
 
 TALFOURD. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER, 
 
 GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 1849.
 
 LOVDON: 
 
 PRiNTBD BY HARHISON AND SO!, 
 ST. .MARTIN'S I.ASB.
 
 tfje 
 
 THE SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 THE KING AND THE COUNTESS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 - Hark ! that heavy sound breaks in once more, 
 
 As if the clouds its echo would repeat ; 
 And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before ! 
 
 Arm! arm ! 
 
 CHILDE HAROLD. 
 
 EVENING was throwing her first shades 
 over the castle of Mezieres, in the north 
 of France, as a cavalier, evidently, from 
 the restraint his presence imposed on the 
 sentinel, an officer of distinction, appeared 
 
 B2
 
 4 THE KING AND 
 
 on that part of the fortress called the plat- 
 form of St. Lazarus. There was little in his 
 plain military undress to attract attention ; 
 but the eagle glance of his dark, piercing 
 eye, the air of command that invested his 
 forehead, and the resolution expressed in 
 his looks, were unequivocal marks of a brave 
 and experienced leader. His features were 
 handsome, though weather-beaten, and pre- 
 senting traces of recent privation. He was 
 of the middle stature, possessing a slight 
 ."but well-knit frame, which his movements 
 showed to be long familiar with the exercise 
 of arms. In a word, it was the Chevalier 
 Bayard, the " Sans Peur et Sans Reproche" 
 cf French chivalry. 
 
 Screened from view by the parapet, he 
 reconnoitred the surrounding country, occu- 
 pied by the Imperial army, under the com- 
 mand of the Count of Nassau, who, as a
 
 THE COUNTESS. 5 
 
 first step in the invasion of France, Lad laid 
 siege to Mezieres. The once rich and fer- 
 tile vicinity had been devastated at his ap- 
 proach, and was now torn up by parallels 
 and trenches, protected by batteries, which 
 kept up an almost uninterrupted cannonade 
 on the beleaguered fortress. But though the 
 garrison numbered only a thousand men, 
 consisting chiefly of foreign mercenaries, 
 reduced to the verge of famine, every attack, 
 had hitherto been fruitless. 
 
 For a time the enemy's batteries had 1 
 suspended fire ; but Bayard knew too 
 surely that this was but a prelude to 
 more vigorous operations, and his prac- 
 tised eye, sweeping the hostile trenches, 
 discovered that new works were in progress, 
 which, if skilfully directed, would render his 
 defences untenable. A loud uproar within 
 the castle interrupted his observations ; and
 
 6 THE KING AND 
 
 immediately afterwards, a man-at-arms, 
 serving as his orderly, stepped up to him. 
 
 The new-comer was young and agile, 
 rather above the ordinary height, and clad 
 in the steel suit of his grade. It required 
 little discernment to perceive, from the en- 
 semble of his frank and prepossessing coun- 
 tenance, that he was an Englishman ; and, 
 in truth, was one of those soldiers of for-, 
 tune, whom Francis the First, the reigning 
 monarch of France, had drawn from almost 
 every nation into his serviqe. 
 
 "Word has come from the breach, Sir, 
 that the two companies of Italians have 
 passed through it, and gone over in a body 
 to the enemy," he said. 
 
 " It is what I expected," replied Bayard, 
 composedly, " and I am glad we are rid of 
 them, though the rascals have cheated us of 
 at least two days' rations. But where is
 
 THE COUNTESS. 7 
 
 the Count de Montmorenci ? Does he know 
 what has occurred V 
 
 " He is mustering a troop of gendarmes 
 to pursue them, Sir, and awaits jour orders." 
 
 " They are not worth pursuit. But pass 
 this way. I will go to the Count myself." 
 
 The Englishman accompanied him to a 
 covered passage, leading to the interior ; 
 and threading a suite of apartments, occu- 
 pied by the Chevalier, they reached a guard- 
 chamber, which, however, was deserted, and 
 a second glance showed that the guard were 
 congregated in front of the doorway, open- 
 ing on the ballium, or principal court. 
 
 Here the chief part of the garrison, in- 
 cluding all not actually on duty, had 
 assembled. A company of knights and 
 men-at-arms, headed by a young officer in 
 complete armour, and who was no other 
 than the afterwards famous Montmorenci,
 
 8 THE KING AND 
 
 were in the saddle ; others were leading 
 forth their horses, or preparing to mount ; 
 and a crowd of arquebussiers, archers, and 
 Swiss pikemen stood around, making no 
 secret of the alarm too plainly expressed on 
 their pale and wasted faces. Women, too, 
 mingled with the throng, listening timidly 
 to their murmurs, or inquiring in tremulous 
 accents what had happened, while Mont- 
 morenci and other knights were endeavour- 
 ing, by their bearing and persuasions, to 
 restore confidence. Suddenly a whisper 
 ran around of "the Chevalier! the Che- 
 valier!" and all became hushed. 
 
 Stepping into the avenue which the 
 soldiers opened for him, Bayard was ad- 
 vancing towards Montmorenci, when the 
 murmurs which his appearance had for a 
 moment silenced, again arose, and voices on 
 every side urged him to surrender.
 
 THE COUXTESS. 9 
 
 " If you do not yield, we will even leare 
 you to hold out alone," cried a sturdy 
 archer, insolently thrusting himself in the 
 way. 
 
 " Knave ! " exclaimed the Englishman, 
 "do you dare to menace the general 1" 
 
 Scarcely were the words spoken, when. 
 the archer was sprawling on the ground ; . 
 and though he sprang up, scowling and? 
 muttering, yet, as the bystanders lent him 
 no encouragement, he slunk into the rear. 
 Every other eye was fixed on Bayard. 
 
 " Who talks of surrender ? " he demanded., 
 "That word is for cowards, not for ths 
 brave. You, Bartuise," he added to a 
 stalwart Swiss, who was resting sullenly 
 on a pike, " you, I am sure, would be the 
 last to speak of it 1" 
 
 Bartuise coloured. 
 
 "Well, I would, Chevalier," he replied, 
 
 B 3
 
 10 THE KING AND 
 
 "if we had full rations, but it is hard 
 fighting on an empty stomach." 
 
 <e Aye, and under arms night and da}'," 
 cried a dozen voices. 
 
 "And does not the general share your 
 hardships 7" interposed Montrnorenci. "Is 
 not his fare the same as your own 1" 
 
 "By*r lady, no, my Lord!" answered 
 Bartuise, "for I believe the noble knight 
 gives us the best of it. I have no complaint 
 to make of him ; but we mountaineers must 
 have our trenchers full, or we cannot fight." 
 
 " "Tis well spoken," cried several hungry- 
 looking Switzers. 
 
 "Not so well, my comrades," said 
 Bayar d. " Do not underrate your country- 
 men, Bartuise ; for they are as patient as 
 they are intrepid. None can bear hardship 
 better in a good cause ; and could there be 
 a nobler one than our's 1 "
 
 THE COUNTESS. 11 
 
 " Your worship knows what we have 
 done," answered Bartuise; "but now we are 
 famishing." 
 
 " So you were in the passes of the Pyre- 
 nees, when we poured into Navarre, and 
 cut the Spanish army in pieces. Mafoi! 
 you fought like lions, Bartuise ! Wherever 
 the fight was thickest, there appeared the 
 Swiss pikemen, driving the enemy before 
 them. Proud Switzerland ! well may she 
 boast of her sons ! Happy France, to pos- 
 sess such allies ! You remember the storm- 
 ing of Pampeluna \ " 
 
 " I have reason, Chevalier," said Bartuise, 
 touching a scar on his forehead. "I was 
 falling, and another blow had been aimed 
 at me, when your worship and the Constable 
 Bourbon came up, and saved my life." 
 
 " Not us, but Nicolo there," cried Bayard, 
 looking at a captain of archers. " We as
 
 12 THE KING AND 
 
 well as yourself were lost, had we not been 
 seconded by the Genoese bowmen. When 
 were they ever known to fail ? When did 
 their shafts miss the mark \ Less than ever 
 on that day, when France and Genoa 
 became sisters. You then won laurels, 
 Nicolo, which must not be tarnished now." 
 
 "But the desertion of two whole com- 
 panies, Chevalier, makes the defence hope- 
 less," said Nicolo hesitatingly. 
 
 " Rather it makes resistance more heroic. 
 Dismount, dismount, gentlemen! "We will 
 not pursue the traitors, but thank them for 
 going." 
 
 " Must we stay in these ruins, General, 
 till they fall upon us 1" asked a captain of 
 Gascons. 
 
 " Or tamely wait till the enemy starves 
 us to death ?" said Nicolo. " What aid can 
 this give France '
 
 THE COUNTESS. 13 
 
 " Every hour every moment that we 
 hold our post, is life and strength to her," 
 returned Bayard. "We give her time to 
 prepare for action ; and, be assured, she 
 will not leave us to perish. Nor is it my 
 intention that you should be passive while 
 the enemy is so vigilant. If you only re- 
 flect calmly, you will find the desertion of 
 the Italians is favourable to us rather than 
 otherwise, for as we arc now thought too 
 weak for outer operations, the enemy will be 
 off his guard, and we shall have better ground 
 for a sortie. Be satisfied, then, Nicolo, and 
 to-night's work will prove I am dealing 
 fairly with you. Or say, will you, who are 
 so brave, and have fought with me so long, 
 forsake your commander T 
 
 A profound silence followed these words, 
 and it seemed that the fate of the garrison 
 hung on Nicolo's decision.
 
 14 THE KING AND 
 
 " It shall never be said," cried the archer, 
 "that I broke faith with you, Chevalier. 
 Do as you will ; while I can bend a bow 
 you shall not lack an archer." 
 
 " Nor a good pike while I can trail one," 
 exclaimed Bartuise. " Well all stand to 
 that." 
 
 'All," shouted the Englishman. "We 
 will stand or die with our general." 
 
 A cheer broke from the bystanders, whom 
 the example of their immediate leaders 
 easily turned to habits of discipline. Their 
 military ardour, too, was stimulated, by the 
 difficulties already overcome, to continue the 
 defence, and the more as it was reasonable 
 to expect the speedy arrival of succours. 
 Order and confidence were again restored ; 
 and, on a word from Bayard, the soldiers 
 withdrew to their barracks, leaving the prin- 
 cipal officers in the ballium. These remained
 
 THE COUNTESS. 15 
 
 for a short time conversing with their com- 
 mander ; but, at length separated, and Bay- 
 ard retired to his quarters attended by the 
 Englishman.
 
 16 THE KING AND 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Impetuous, active, fierce, and young, 
 Upon the advancing foes he sprung ; 
 Woe to the wretch at whom is bent 
 His brandish'd faulchion's sheer descent. 
 
 ROKEBY. 
 
 MIDNIGHT had arrived, and a strong 
 force again assembled in the castle bal- 
 lium. Mustering without noise, each man, 
 as the companies fell in, answered, in a 
 low tone, to the roll-call, while knights 
 and officers, lighted by flambeaux, moved 
 down the ranks, ascertaining that every 
 soldier was perfectly equipped. Bayard
 
 THE COUXTESS. 17 
 
 himself inspected the line, and then, ad- 
 vancing to the centre, exhorted them to 
 be firm and resolute. 
 
 " Remember," he said, in conclusion, "our 
 only object is to destroy the new batteries, 
 and to attempt more might be fatal to us. 
 Content yourselves, therefore, with protecting 
 the pioneers in this duty, and do not be 
 hurried into further conflict. Now, forward ! 
 and St. Denis be our help !" 
 
 The lights having been extinguished, the 
 men-at-arms followed in silence after Bayard, 
 and were succeeded by archers and pikemen, 
 covering a corps of sappers and pioneers. 
 In this order they issued from the sally-port, 
 and approached the enemy's lines. 
 
 It was extremely dark, but Bayard led the 
 way without difficulty ; and, marching at a 
 rapid pace, soon distinguished the batteries. 
 His supposed weakness, as expected, had
 
 18 THE KIXG AND 
 
 rendered the Imperialists less vigilant, and 
 he was not discovered till within a few paces. 
 An alarm was then raised, and the arque- 
 bussiers and lanzknechts engaged on the 
 works flew to arms ; but, disregarding the 
 volley poured upon them, the Swiss pikemen 
 advanced, and endeavoured to mount the 
 sand bags forming the batteries. Lanz- 
 knechts above, driving forward their long 
 pikes, hurled them back, affording time to 
 man the guns ; and, attracted by the noise, 
 overpowering reinforcements hastened from 
 the camp to assist them. But they were 
 intercepted by three brigades of men-at-arms, 
 sent by Bayard to make a feint lower down 
 the lines, while the Chevalier in person 
 covered the real enterprise. Still a squa- 
 dron of cavalry made its way to the spot, 
 and at once compelled him to act on the 
 defensive.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 19 
 
 j 
 
 After a desperate attempt at assault, the 
 Swiss were repulsed from the works, and 
 fell back in disorder. In retiring, they were 
 met by several lances, among whom was the 
 English orderly, Esme Noel. 
 
 " Now, Bartuise," cried the young soldier, 
 " never give way. For the honour of England 
 I will be first among them." 
 
 He vaulted from his saddle, and without 
 waiting to see who followed, rushed for- 
 .wards. Bartuise turned after him, in com- 
 pany with the brave Swiss, and, at the 
 same time, the Genoese archers, led by 
 Nicolo, poured a cloud of shafts among the 
 lanzknechts. Favoured by the confusion, 
 Esme gained the summit of the battery, and 
 threw himself on a gaunt German, whom he 
 clove down, and thus opened a passage for 
 the Swiss. His next object -was to secure 
 the guns, and seized with a sudden panic,
 
 20 THE KING AND 
 
 the artillery-men did not wait to be at- 
 tacked, but jumped off the works, leaving 
 the cannon undefended. All who could 
 escape followed, while others threw down 
 their arms, and in a few minutes the bat- 
 teries were won. 
 
 t 
 
 Pioneers commenced the work of demo- 
 lition, and Esme Noel again took to horse, 
 calling around him a party of Swiss and 
 Genoese, with whom he spurred towards 
 Bayard, now just flanking the Imperialists. 
 Esme's accession completed their discomfi- 
 ture, and they took flight, hotly pursued by 
 the French, who, forgetting their leader's 
 injunction, were soon scattered over the 
 field. The Englishman was among the fore- 
 most, pressing close on the fugitives, and 
 did not rein up till he found himself alone. 
 
 The faint notes of a bugle sounding the 
 recall, at such a distance as to be almost
 
 THE COUNTESS. 21 
 
 inaudible, awakened him to a sense of dan- 
 ger ; and rounding a small thicket, he gal- 
 loped off in what seemed to be the direction 
 of the castle. It was soon apparent, from 
 the challenge of a sentinel, that this was 
 not the case ; and he was retracing his steps, 
 when a file of troopers started out of an 
 adjacent hollow, and demanded the pass- 
 word. His reply was a blow, which un- 
 horsed their leader ; and he got past them ; 
 but recovering from the surprise, they gave 
 chase. At this crisis a body of pikenien, 
 headed by Bartuise, wheeled round the 
 thicket, and perceiving, from the shirt over 
 his armour, a means of recognition always 
 adopted in a night assault, that Esme was 
 one of their comrades, hastened up to him. 
 Afraid of being surrounded, the pursuing 
 horse turned to retreat ; but would still 
 have been cut off, if the victors had not
 
 22 THE KING AND 
 
 been called away by another troop, which 
 suddenly appeared in the rear. 
 
 The new comers consisted of about twenty 
 horsemen, escorting a litter, attended by 
 several pages, bearing flambeaux. On ap- 
 proaching the hollow, where the combatants 
 were first seen, they seemed confounded, and 
 half inclined to fall back ; but observing 
 that Esme and Bartuise drew off, obviously 
 from fear of attack, their leader became 
 more confident. 
 
 *' French stragglers, I see," he cried. 
 " They have been making a sortie, and those 
 craven lancers are Imperialists. Now, Ja- 
 copo, stand by me, and we will show the 
 Lady Corinna a passage of arms. One 
 blow for the Emperor !" 
 
 " A Strozzi ! a Strozzi !" cried Jacopo ; 
 and the words were echoed by those behind. 
 
 About a dozen well-armed horsemen, clad
 
 THE COUNTESS. 23 
 
 in steel hauberks, were just on the spur, but 
 were arrested by a grave-looking ecclesiastic, 
 mounted on a mule, who exhorted them to 
 forbear. 
 
 " What would you do, Count 1" he con- 
 tinued. "Those fugitives will not molest 
 us ; and any interference with them will 
 infringe our safe-conduct." 
 
 " We will make but one charge, in ho- 
 nour of the Lady Corinna, good father," 
 replied the Count. " Ho, there ! a Strozzi!" 
 
 Esnie and Bartuise awaited his onset be- 
 hind a trench, which in the darkness was 
 not perceived by the assailants, and gallop- 
 ing furiously down the declivity, their horses 
 stumbled into it. Here the long pikes of 
 the Swiss had the advantage over them, 
 while Strozzi himself was encountered by 
 Esrne, who, after a brief struggle, hurled 
 him from his horse, and he was left for
 
 24 THE KING AND 
 
 dead. Five or six others were soon 
 stretched beside him, and the remainder 
 galloped off, pursued by the Swiss, in spite 
 of Esme's remonstrances. 
 
 These incidents barely occupied an in- 
 stant ; and the party left with the litter, 
 having no time for flight, were surrounded 
 by the Swiss before they were aware of 
 danger. Attracted by a cry, Esme forced 
 his way to the vehicle, in front of which he 
 found a female domestic and the priest ; 
 while the carriage was occupied by a young 
 lady, as terrified as her retinue, and whom 
 a torch held by a rude Swiss showed to be 
 extremely beautiful. 
 
 " I claim your protection, Sir, if you are 
 for the King of France," she cried to Esme. 
 "I am the Lady Mirandola, and have his 
 highness's safe conduct." 
 
 " By protecting us, my son, you will
 
 THE COUKTESS. 25 
 
 render the King a service," said the clergy- 
 man. 
 
 " Whether or not, father, it is always my 
 duty to aid ladies and priests," replied 
 Esme. " But I am unable to do it now, 
 unless you will go with me to Mezieres." 
 
 " Do you take us as prisoners V asked 
 the lady. " Believe me, we were no parties 
 to the affront you have received." 
 
 " Of that I am certain, Madam ; and, if 
 you accompany me, I pledge myself that 
 your safe- conduct shall be respected." 
 
 " Then we confide ourselves to your pro- 
 tection, Sir," said the lady. 
 
 She was about to add a question as to 
 the fate of Count Strozzi, but, as every mo- 
 ment endangered their safety, Esme turned 
 to give directions for retreat ; and, forming 
 in order, the Swiss escorted the litter down 
 a rugged road towards the castle. To avoid 
 
 VOL. i. c
 
 26 THE KING AND 
 
 .the enemy's scouring parties, they made a 
 detour; but after an interval of about an 
 hour, arrived safe at their destination.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 27 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The bloom of opening flowers, unsullied beauty, 
 Softness, and sweetest innocence she wears, 
 And looks like nature in the world's first spring. 
 
 HOWE. 
 
 MORNING streamed through deep embra- 
 sures into an upper chamber of the castle, 
 occupied by the Lady Mirandola and her 
 favourite attendant. 
 
 Cormiia Mirandola had seen, perhaps, 
 .some eighteen summers, and possessed all 
 the happy presage and vernal freshness of 
 that seasQn of promise, when the harvest 
 seems golden, and waiting to be garnered ; 
 
 C2
 
 28 THE KING AND 
 
 but too often is reaped in sorrow, and yields 
 only briers. The warm olive of her Italian 
 complexion, 
 
 " Fresher than the morning rose," 
 was mingled on her cheek with the rare 
 bloom usually confined to Spanish beauties, 
 and which even Murillo's Promethean brush 
 lias failed to delineate. But, though beam- 
 ing with animation, her face revealed no 
 trace of the fervid and passionate nature, 
 generally associated with that glowing tint; 
 but, on the contrary, wore an expression of 
 tranquillity and tenderness, harmonizing 
 admirably with full, dark, thoughtful eyes, 
 which, from the depth and softness of 
 their lustre, seemed to give light to others 
 as well as herself. Long black hair, con- 
 iined in front to a few curls on her temples, 
 fell in graceful clusters over her neck, the 
 clearness of which, heightened by contrast,
 
 THE COUNTESS. 29 
 
 was perfectly dazzling. Her form was fault- 
 less, and presented in every line a new 
 combination of grace and motion. 
 
 The attendant was a pretty Florentine, 
 with arch black eyes, and a good-natured, 
 though somewhat pert look, evidently origi- 
 nating in the lady's favour. She was at- 
 tired in the simple dress of her class, but 
 every point of decoration was pushed to 
 the utmost limit, and it could be seen by 
 the most superficial observer, that Minna 
 Ronaldi entertained a proper estimate of 
 her own importance. 
 
 They had been called to France by a 
 casualty not uncommon at the time. The 
 Count of Mirandola, Corinna's father, had 
 been taken prisoner by the French, while 
 fighting on the side of the Emperor, in 
 Navarre ; and, being unable to furnish im- 
 mediately the enormous sum demanded for
 
 30 THE KING AND 
 
 ransom, it was arranged that Iris onlj cliild 
 should be left as hostage with the Duchess 
 d'Angouleme, mother of the King, till it 
 was paid, and that on her arrival in France, 
 he should be set at liberty. For this pur- 
 pose, Corinna was making all haste to the 
 French court, when her progress was ar- 
 rested in the manner shown. 
 
 " I protest, my Lady, this is worse than 
 being cooped up in Mirandola," remarked 
 Minna, after regarding her mistress for some 
 time in silence. " We set out to see the 
 world, and find ourselves immured in a 
 gloomy chamber, which may be haunted, 
 for aught we know !" 
 
 "Hush, Minna!" said the indulgent 
 mistress, though with a half- smile. " I am 
 in too serious a mood to think of terrors so 
 idle." 
 
 " That's the very thing, my Lady. You
 
 THE COUNTESS. 31 
 
 are too serious, and I am no less so. If we 
 were only in merry sort, I should be content, 
 and wait for what fortune would bring us. 
 But I knew something would come of 
 travelling in the dark ; and marvel, after 
 what took place, that we did not get killed 
 outright." 
 
 " Then, you should be the more grateful 
 that we are in safety. The poor Count has 
 probably paid a fatal penalty for his rash- 
 nesss, or he would not have left us unpro- 
 tected. Alas 1 I have indeed been a 
 sufferer from this war, which first has made 
 my father a prisoner, then given our terri- 
 tories to the keeping of the Emperor, and 
 now deprives me of my good cousin." 
 
 " Truly, it is all as sad as it can be, my 
 Lady," returned Minna, " excepting only the 
 matter of the Count good gentleman ! who 
 would never die so quietly. Do not sup-
 
 32 THE KING AND 
 
 pose for a moment that he has been slain. 
 I warrant you, he is now safe in the Em- 
 peror's camp, as merry as the best" 
 " Do you really think so, Minna 1 " 
 " I am sure of it, my Lady. You know, 
 he is not one to grieve, but as gay a 
 roysterer as ever breathed, come what will 
 of it. No ! it is only our tender sex that 
 mope and pine, my Lady. Men are all as 
 mad as butterflies, with a little spice of the 
 wasp in them; and I must say of the noble 
 Count albeit he is your Ladyship's kins- 
 man that he is as much wasp as butter- 
 fly." 
 
 " I forgot, he is no favourite of your's." 
 " "Well, well ! he has brought your Lady- 
 ship into a nice net ; and only for that dear, 
 handsome Englishman, I do believe that we 
 should all have been murdered. What 
 vexes me is, that we should be brought here
 
 THE COUNTESS. 33 
 
 as common prisoners, instead of going first 
 to the Emperor's camp, and having all the 
 good knights and gallants pay their court 
 to us. Then the fine ceremonies that we 
 have lost as a herald coming with sound of 
 trumpet, to give your Ladyship up to the 
 French; and troops of peers and dames 
 riding forth to receive you. It almost 
 breaks my heart, and I shall hardly ever 
 recover from it, even supposing that we get 
 out of the castle alive. As for that, we not 
 only run the chance of being shot, but are 
 just as likely to die of hunger." 
 
 " So far, at least, we have no reason tcr 
 fear such a catastrophe," observed Corinna, 
 when the voluble soubrette was obliged to 
 pause for breath ; " both last night and this 
 morning, everything was provided for us 
 that we could desire." 
 
 " Ah ! my Lady, you do not know that 
 
 c3
 
 34 THE KING AJs 7 D 
 
 tlie wine we drank was from the last bottle 
 in the castle; and, they say, the good 
 Chevalier who sent it scarcely touched food ' 
 the whole day himself." 
 
 " Oh ! do not tell me that, Minna, or I 
 shall grieve that I tasted it. Noble, ge- 
 rous knight ! can it be that he is reduced to 
 this ? Oh! I will not trespass on his little 
 store ! If the good Padre can only arrange 
 for our departure, we will set forth without 
 further delay. But here he is." 
 
 As she spoke, the old priest entered. 
 
 " I have seen the Chevalier, daughter," he 
 said, "and told him all. He wishes to com- 
 municate something to you himself; and 
 is now in the ante-chamber, awaiting your 
 permission to enter." 
 
 " Pray introduce him, father ; I wish to 
 express my thanks for the consideration he 
 has shown us."
 
 THE COUNTESS. 35 
 
 " We are even more indebted to him than 
 you imagine/' returned the Padre, leading in 
 Bayard. 
 
 "Not to me, but your own good for- 
 tune, father," said the Chevalier. " I wish, 
 Madam, that it was in my power to oblige 
 you ; but I can only offer you sympathy and 
 advice." 
 
 "Oh! Sir, I do not need to be told how 
 kind you have been to us," cried Corinna, 
 with eyes full of tears. " I know, too, how 
 very painfully you are situated, and that 
 your embarrassments are increased by our 
 presence. This makes me anxious to ascer- 
 tain whether we are at liberty to depart, 
 as in that case, we will at once relieve you 
 of further trouble." 
 
 "You are perfectly free, Madam, as 
 far as refers to your stay here," replied 
 Bayard; "but I am sorry to add that
 
 36 THE KING AND 
 
 you will incur great peril in leaving the 
 castle." 
 
 " "Will not the King's safe-conduct protect 
 us, then 1" asked Corinna, anxiously. 
 
 " It will be respected by his own subjects, 
 but your danger arises from his enemies." 
 
 " Not from the Emperor, surely "? He is 
 my father's ally." 
 
 " You shall judge yourself, Madam, what 
 reliance can be placed upon him. But first 
 let me ask why, in making for Paris, you 
 deviated so far from the usual route as to 
 approach the Imperial camp, instead of en- 
 tering France by way of Nancy V 
 
 " We were proceeding to Nancy, when 
 my kinsman, Count Strozzi, who is serving 
 with the army, met us, and from him we 
 learnt that it was necessary to repair to the 
 camp, in order to be given up formally to 
 you by the Count of Nassau/'
 
 THE COUNTESS. 37 
 
 " These were his very words," interposed 
 the Padre. "Now listen to his perfidy." 
 
 " A letter found in his valise/' said Ba- 
 yard, "which was picked up by one of your 
 captors, discloses it all. Orders had been 
 issued by the Emperor, that on your arrival 
 in the camp, you were to be espoused to 
 Count Strozzi, if necessary, by force ; and 
 then conveyed to Spain." 
 
 " What an abyss have I escaped !" ex- 
 claimed Corinna, clasping her hands in 
 terror. 
 
 "You now understand what risk you 
 would incur in leaving the castle," said 
 Bayard. 
 
 " Oh ! yes, yes ! Suffer me to remain, Sir, 
 I beseech you. I will not complain of pri- 
 vation, and can live on the coarsest fare. 
 Only do not give me up ; anything would be 
 preferable to that."
 
 38 THE KING AND 
 
 " Assure yourself of m j best service, Ma- 
 dam ; and that no pains shall be spared to 
 secure your safety. I have given the mat- 
 ter much consideration, and come prepared 
 to advise you what course to pursue." 
 
 " You are most kind. Whatever your 
 counsel may be, I shall abide by it." 
 
 " Then I must frankly avow, that I can- 
 not afford you security here. We are 
 reduced to the verge of famine, and the 
 first vigorous attack may oblige us to ca- 
 pitulate, when you would fall into the power 
 of the Imperial General." 
 
 " Alas !" 
 
 "Nay, I hope such an event may never 
 happen. An officer possessing my confi- 
 dence in fact, the one who brought you 
 here, sets out to-night for Rheims; and I 
 propose that you and your chaplain, with 
 one female attendant, shall accompany him.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 30 
 
 To take more might endanger your safety ; 
 and, at best, the undertaking will be ha- 
 zardous, till you are quite clear of the 
 enemy's lines. But I have great reliance 
 on the courage and address of your con- 
 ductor, and trust you will escape." 
 
 " You give me new hope, Sir," faltered 
 Corinna. " I will act as you may decide, 
 assured that I could not possess a wiser 
 or nobler protector than the Chevalier 
 Bayard." 
 
 " You overrate my attention, fair Lady, 
 though not my desire to aid you. To-night, 
 then, at ten o'clock, you will be ready for 
 your journey." 
 
 It was so agreed, and Bayard quitted the 
 room, leaving the party to make their pre- 
 parations.
 
 40 THE KING AND 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Now I will unclasp a secret book, 
 And to your quick-conceiving discontents 
 I'll read you matter deep and dangerous, 
 As full of peril and advent' rous spirit 
 As to o'erwalk a current, roaring loud, 
 On the unsteadfast footing of a spear. 
 
 SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 BAYARD might well designate a journey 
 from Mezieres to Rkeirns a very perilous 
 enterprise. Inclosed in lines of circum- 
 vallation, guarded by a wary and vigilant 
 enemy, the besieged fortress was completely 
 isolated ; and even when these barriers were
 
 THE COUNTESS. 41 
 
 passed, other and greater difficulties pre- 
 sented themselves. Entire Tillages had been 
 reduced to ashes ; roads torn up and ren- 
 dered impassable ; vineyards devastated, and 
 every trace of vegetation destroyed. The 
 ways, too, were beset with infuriated pea- 
 sants, who, maddened at the destruction of 
 their property, bore as much animosity 
 against the King's forces as against the 
 invaders, and lost no opportunity of re- 
 taliating. 
 
 Esmc Noel was duly made acquainted 
 with the task proposed for him, and im- 
 mediately repaired to his quarters, a small 
 bare-looking room in one of the towers, to 
 announce it to his foster-brother and hench- 
 man, Barnaby Tindal, a burly young fellow, 
 attired in a somewhat worn suit of buff. 
 
 He found Barnaby engaged in cutting the 
 air with two fore-fingers, in lieu of a knife
 
 42 THE KING AND 
 
 and fork, then in general use, and thrusting 
 into his mouth large helps of supposed dain- 
 ties, which he devoured with seeming aridity. 
 
 " Soh ! at your old fancies !" cried Esme. 
 " Will you never have done with this 1" 
 - " Pr'ythee, master mine, let me finish my 
 supper," cried Barnaby, whose mouth was 
 So full of imaginary viands that he could 
 Scarcely articulate. " This venison-pasty, 
 I assure you, is excellent of the kind, though 
 I might prefer it a spice homelier, and more 
 solid for my own eating. But, as I see you 
 are urgent, I will not detain your worship." 
 Here's to your health, in as good Burgundy 
 as can he had in the castle." And raising 
 his fist to his mouth, he went through the 
 performance of imbibing a deep draught, 
 smacking his lips at the conclusion. 
 
 " Now, I hope your insatiable appetite is 
 appeased," said Esme, laughing.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 43 
 
 " Pretty veil ; though, to say the truth, 
 I am growing weary of these fine French 
 dishes, and would rather have one cut 'of 
 good English beef than a dozen of them. 
 As for the wine, I would give it all for' a 
 draught of beer." 
 
 - " My poor fellow, you are famishing." 
 
 - " Psha ! I do well enough. You know 
 I must grumble, just to keep up my spirits. 
 But is there no news stirring, good master 1- 
 Last night's sport to be repeated to-night, 
 I suppose ? another running fight." 
 
 - " Not by me, at least, as I am ordered 
 on another duty. I set out for Rheims at 
 ten o'clock." 
 
 " This is a jest -1" 
 
 " I was never more serious in my life." 
 
 " Stop a minute, then," cried Barnaby, 
 
 snatching up his cap. " Now, both together 
 
 hip, hip, hurrah !"
 
 44 THE KING AND 
 
 " Are you so glad to part with me V 
 asked Esme. 
 
 " Part with you, Master Esme ! What 
 put that in your head 1" 
 
 " I am to leave you behind." 
 
 " Now you are jesting. You might as 
 well leave your casque behind, or your cors- 
 let ; for, as far as I can judge, your hench- 
 man is quite as necessary. "What ! leave 
 me in this battered, tottering, shaking, ruin- 
 ous old castle, to be starved, or killed, just 
 as it may happen 1" 
 
 " It must be so. My orders are impera- 
 tive ; and, you know, I dare not infringe 
 them. So go thy ways, and see my horse 
 well groomed, for he has hard work before 
 him." 
 
 However much disappointed, Barnaby had 
 everything ready at the appointed time ; 
 and mounting, Esme repaired to an obscure
 
 THE COUNTESS. 45 
 
 postern, on the further side of the fortress. 
 Here lie was found by Bayard, who brought 
 up Corinna Mirandola, attended by Padre 
 Stephano and Minna. As they passed one 
 by one through the narrow outlet, Bayard 
 gave his final injunctions to Esme. 
 
 " Remember, we are at the last push," 
 he concluded. "When you have seen the 
 King, tell this to the Duke de Bourbon ; and 
 say from me, that if succours do not arrive 
 within a week, I fear all will be over. 
 Now, farewell !" 
 
 Esme eagerly pressed his proffered hand ; 
 and the Chevalier returned through the pos- 
 tern, securing it within. 
 
 It was intensely dark ; black heavy clouds 
 drooped overhead, as if ready to fall ; and 
 the wind broke on the ear in low, mournful 
 gusts. Though naturally courageous, Co- 
 rinna could not repress a thrill of appre-
 
 tension on looking around ; but it subsided, 
 when, moving forward, Esme placed himself 
 at her side, leaving the Padre and Minna to 
 come behind. They proceeded in silence, 
 but wherever the rugged way became more 
 difficult, the lady felt his hand on her bri- 
 dle, holding up the horse, while he warned 
 their companions of the unseen obstacles; 
 and by his alertness and composure dispelled 
 their fears. 
 
 His first aim was to. get clear of the lines 
 of circumvallation, and, to effect this, he 
 proceeded towards a remote part of the 
 .works, on the side fronting Flanders, which, 
 as no hostile demonstration could be ex- 
 pected in that quarter/ was likely to be 
 weakly guarded. So it proved ; and pass- 
 sing unnoticed through the chain of senti- 
 nels, they made a circuit round the out- 
 posts, and thus regained, at last, their proper 
 route.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 47 
 
 The distant watch-fires were still discern- 
 ible, when heavy drops of rain began to fall, 
 inducing the travellers, though no longer 
 
 tj ' O O 
 
 apprehensive of interruption, to continue 
 their speed, in the hope of reaching a place 
 of refuge before the storm, evidently im- 
 pending, should break forth. Soon after- 
 wards, a loud clap of thunder forced a tre- 
 mulous exclamation from Corinna. 
 
 " Do not be alarmed, Madam," said Esine, 
 " The tempest will probably be of short 
 duration ; and there is a ruin close by, 
 where you can take shelter." 
 
 Breasting a small eminence, they distin- 
 guished the dark outlines of a broken wall 
 and tower, all that remained of a village 
 church, destroyed on the approach of the 
 invaders. For an instant a torch seemed to 
 gleam in the dismantled belfry ; but Esme 
 concluded it was lightning, as fearful flashes
 
 48 THE KING AND 
 
 now rent the sky ; and therefore he did not 
 hesitate to lead Corinna's horse across a 
 small burial-ground to the ruin, followed by 
 the Padre and Minna. 
 
 " Holy refuge ! I thank our Lady that 
 thou art open to us," exclaimed the priest, 
 entering the transept, the only part of the 
 fabric not perfectly roofless. 
 
 " Amen," responded Minna ; " though, 
 certes, I could hare wished our lodging 
 somewhat more comfortable. Mercy 011 us ! 
 the thunder is loud enough to wake the 
 dead." 
 
 " Hush ! hush !" cried the Padre, in alarm. 
 " Do not speak irreverently of the dead, who 
 lie so close to us. Sancta Maria ! or a pro 
 nobis, peccatoribus /" 
 
 " You frighten me, good Sir," said Minna, 
 unable even now to repress her dispo- 
 sition for mischief. " I hope there is
 
 THE COUNTESS. 49 
 
 no fear of our being troubled with appa- 
 ritions." 
 
 " Peace, Minna," said Corinna ; " this is 
 no moment for levity." 
 
 " She shall be convinced of that to-mor- 
 row," observed the Padre, who was very sen- 
 sitive on the subject of ghosts ; " and, to 
 impress it on her memory, perform at the 
 same time a heavy penance." 
 
 .Here they were joined by Esme, who had 
 been securing the horses ; and nothing further 
 was said. Each became occupied in watch- 
 ing the storm, now raging with great vio- 
 lence, and they with difficulty kept clear of 
 the rain, driven in upon them by furious 
 gusts, from the uncovered nave, which was 
 ever and anon illuminated by the lightning. 
 During one of these outbursts, Esme, looking 
 suddenly round, descried a dark object 
 through the window, but it vanished so 
 
 VOL. i. D
 
 50 THE KING AXD 
 
 quickly, that it was impossible to distinguish 
 what it was. 
 
 " Has anything happened, my son V 
 asked the Padre, alarmed by his hasty 
 movement. 
 
 "It seems some one is watching us," 
 answered Esme. " Remain quiet, and I will 
 take a look round." 
 
 "Oh, do not leave us, Sir, I entreat you," 
 murmured Corinna. 
 
 But Esme had already darted into the 
 churchyard. Gliding noiselessly round the 
 tower, a footfall drew his attention to a low 
 parapet, and looking over it, he discovered 
 a figure below, descending a flight of steps, 
 which led to the Catacombs. It passed 
 through the open door, closely attended by 
 Esme, who entered the vault unperceived. 
 
 The glimmer of a lantern on one side 
 revealed three men, now joined by the scout,
 
 THE COUNTESS. 51 
 
 but Esme stepped behind an abutment, where 
 he could watch them unseen. 
 
 " We've nothing to fear," said the scout. 
 " There's only four of them ; and two are 
 women, and one a priest." 
 
 " Two women !" cried another, exultingly. 
 " This is well ! Ha ! ha ! You know how 
 the soldiers served my Annette ? my poor 
 child!" 
 
 " And my good wife, when they burnt 
 the cottage over our heads V said a third. 
 " Now 111 have revenge." 
 
 " Ay, if they are gentlefolks," said the 
 fourth. " Curses on all gentlefolk !" 
 
 <e These can be nothing else," said the 
 scout ; "for they are guarded by a man in 
 armour either a knight or partisan, I know 
 not which. But come on, we lose time 
 talking." 
 
 Esme suffered them to pass without dis- 
 
 D 2
 
 52 THE KING AND 
 
 covering himself, resolving to keep close on 
 their steps, and fall on them by surprise. 
 But, on quitting the vault, they locked the 
 door, and left him prisoner. 
 
 Confident in their numbers, they pro- 
 ceeded straight to the transept, uttering 
 threats and imprecations. 
 
 " No resistance, or you are all dead I" 
 exclaimed the foremost. 
 
 A cry of terror burst from Corinna. 
 
 " My sons, what seek you T demanded 
 the Padre, planting himself before her. 
 
 " Oh ! help ! help !" screamed Minna. 
 '-' Where is the Cavalier T 
 
 " Shout ! shriek !" laughed one of the 
 peasants, as he seized her. " It's our turn 
 now." 
 
 " The mistress for me!" cried another, 
 rushing at Corinna. 
 
 " Mercy !" exclaimed the terrified lady,
 
 THE COUNTESS. 53 
 
 eluding his grasp. " Oh ! for the love of 
 Heaven, spare me !" 
 
 " Leave us, villains !" cried the Padre, 
 ' or I will lay my curse upon you, and all 
 you possess." 
 
 " Keep your curse, and give us your 
 purse ;" answered one, grasping him by the 
 throat. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! out with it, shaveling !" said 
 another, " or tell your beads quick ; for you 
 shall have short time for prayers." 
 
 " Now you are mine," shouted the captor 
 of Corinna, " or my dagger shall settle 
 you." 
 
 But she broke from him, leaving hood and 
 mantle in his hand, and with her long hair 
 streaming on the wind, darted towards the 
 porch. Here she was met by Esnie, "who 
 had escaped from the vault, by climbing out 
 of an aperture, and now threw himself on
 
 54 THE KING AND 
 
 her assailant. One blow stretched him 
 bleeding on the ground. 
 
 " Ha ! here is the butcher," cried one 
 of his comrades. " Jean ! Jacques ! 
 see!" 
 
 Esme rushed upon him, though Jean and 
 Jacques hastened to his succour, assailing 
 him in a body. But their number was no 
 match for the Englishman's skill ; and he 
 soon disabled one, who instantly fled, and 
 the others rushed after him. 
 
 " Do not pursue them, my sou," cried the 
 Padre, holding Esme back. " They will not 
 return ; and now the rain has ceased, we 
 can go on our way." 
 
 " Pray let us do so, Sir," exclaimed Co- 
 rinna, still trembling. " You have preserved 
 our lives, and we must rely on you, under 
 Heaven, to place us in safety." 
 
 " Be assured, Lady, there is nothing I
 
 THE COUNTESS. 55 
 
 have nearer at heart. I trust you received 
 no harm from the ruffians V 
 
 " None whatever, thanks to your pro- 
 tection." 
 
 " I shall never forgive myself for being 
 absent ; but it was desirable to ascertain 
 what enemies we had to contend with, and 
 the villains had time to get here before me. 
 But we will now set forward again." 
 
 " Beshrew the cowardly knaves !" cried 
 Minna, as he led out the horses, " though in 
 truth his worship made short work with 
 them. I thought one was killed, but he got 
 up, and made his escape." 
 
 Their steeds were now ready, and mount- 
 ing, they resumed their journey.
 
 56 THE KING AND 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 How terrible is passion ! how our reason 
 Falls down before it ! whilst the tortur'd frame, 
 Like a ship dash'd by fierce encountring tides, 
 And of her pilot spoil'd, drives round and round, 
 The sport of wind and wave. 
 
 VIRGIX QUEEN. 
 
 IN the ancient palace of Rheims was a 
 spacious chamber, called, from the colour of 
 its hangings, the blue cabinet, in which 
 Louise of Savoy, Duchess d'Angouleme, was 
 one day conversing with her gifted and ac- 
 complished son, Francis the First.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 57 
 
 Though verging on that dreaded crisis in 
 woman's existence, when the age becomes a 
 profound secret, Louise was still beautiful ; 
 and the accurate outline and lofty expres- 
 sion of her features, aided, perhaps, by the 
 reviving powers of art, concealed the ravages 
 time had made in her complexion. Married 
 almost in childhood, she had passed the 
 period of coverture in a distant province, 
 fulfilling the duties of a wife in an exemplary 
 manner, though not altogether escaping the 
 tongue of slander. A parent at sixteen-, 
 and in another year a widow, she was 
 suddenly called upon to sustain a part in 
 the widest sphere of human action, among 
 the most brilliant characters of the day ; 
 and though traces appeared, at intervals, of 
 deep and headstrong passions, which her 
 vigorous understanding could not always 
 restrain, the task had been ably fulfilled. 
 
 D 3
 
 58 THE KING AND 
 
 It cannot be denied, however, that her rare 
 talents were often exercised for sinister and 
 unworthy ends, as well as marred by a ridi- 
 culous credulity ; and the great princess, 
 whose genius astonished contemporaries, 
 and excites the admiration of posterity, 
 was a dabbler in the insane juggleries of 
 the black art, entertaining Cornelius Agrippa, 
 the famous magician, as one of the principal 
 officers of her household. 
 
 Francis, attired in a suit of crimson 
 velvet, sprinkled with pearls, and holding in 
 his hand a cap of the same material, in 
 front of which was a gold medal, looping 
 an ostrich plume, looked what he was justly 
 pronounced the first gentleman of the 
 age. Tall and well proportioned, his per- 
 son presented a union of strength and grace 
 seldom met with. His fine, manly coun- 
 tenance, too, had generally a more engaging
 
 THE COUNTESS. 59 
 
 expression than that of Louise, though it 
 frequently varied, yielding to the slightest 
 contraction of his lofty brow, and becoming 
 in a moment gloomy and stern. The same 
 inconstancy marked his disposition. An 
 inordinate desire to excel made him jealous 
 of eminent merit in others; and his cha- 
 racter was a singular compound of meanness 
 and magnanimity. Although possessing in 
 a remarkable degree every attribute for 
 government, his administration had been 
 singularly unsuccessful ; and by the con- 
 tinual pursuit of military glory, entailing a 
 prodigal expenditure, had in a few years 
 reduced his kingdom from the highest pros- 
 perity to the brink of ruin. Still, nobler 
 objects were not overlooked, or other 
 interests forgotten. A scholar and virtuoso, 
 he was a munificent patron of learning and 
 the arts, the revival of which, arising mainly
 
 60 THE KING AND 
 
 from the dispersion over Europe of the 
 polished Greeks, which followed the fall of 
 Constantinople, and the impetus derived 
 from " Leo's golden age," was fostered and 
 confirmed by his bounty. His nature, in- 
 deed, was itself generous, but abused by 
 favourites, and prone to duplicity, often 
 prompting him to lavish favours, and even 
 terms of endearment, on persons he detested, 
 and had secretly resolved to destroy. In 
 short, he was at once princely and vin- 
 dictive, frank and insincere. 
 
 "So you have yet a weighty matter to 
 speak of, Madam," he said. " Is it pressing, 
 or may we safely leave it for another con- 
 ference 1" 
 
 " On the contrary," answered Louise with 
 some agitation, "it cannot be settled too 
 soon. I have deferred it from day to day, 
 wanting courage to speak to you on such
 
 THE COUNTESS. 61 
 
 a subject ; but my feelings will no longer 
 be silent. I must make them known to you 
 without further delay." 
 
 "This preface surprises me, Madam. 
 Have I ever opposed you in anything, that 
 you scrupled to acquaint me with your 
 wishes before V 
 
 "Oh, no! You have always been most 
 affectionate, and treated me with more 
 consideration than I either expected or 
 desired. It is not that, but alas ! I can- 
 not even now disclose it." 
 
 "In truth, you alarm me. The affair 
 must be serious to cause you so much agi- 
 tation ; and, therefore, I must be told what 
 it is. Compose yourself, then : and, be 
 assured, I will do all that is possible to 
 assist you." 
 
 "Would, that it may prove so!" ex- 
 claimed Louise ; " but I fear that, swayed
 
 C2 THE KING AND 
 
 bj your own prepossessions, you will be the 
 chief opponent of my purpose." 
 
 She paused, apparently to collect herself, 
 and, averting her head, added, "Listen then, 
 my son, to a confession which woman never 
 makes without emotion, in my case every 
 way more painful. The word which dyes my 
 cheek with shame which my voice almost 
 refuses to utter, embraces all that I hope, 
 all that I live for. It is like the last 
 throw of the gambler, which is to give 
 fortune, or reduce to beggary. Francis, 
 I love!" 
 
 "Madam!" 
 
 "Yes, yes! it is the truth, the long- 
 hidden, long-cherished truth, which has lain 
 for years in my heart, treasured like its life- 
 blood. I have told you my secret, and will 
 not recall the word. I do indeed love/' 
 
 " And may I ask who is the happy
 
 THE COUNTESS. 63 
 
 object of your affection, Madam 1 " asked 
 Francis, sarcastically. 
 
 " You shall know, Sir," said Louise, with 
 offended dignity, though a tear gathered in 
 her eye ; " not that I expect any advantage 
 from a confidence already honoured with 
 your derision, but because I will justify my 
 own heart." 
 
 "Pardon me, my mother, if I seem 
 severe. You forget that your revelation is 
 unexpected even startling. Is it unreason- 
 able, then, that I should desire to know who 
 is the fortunate possessor of your heart \ 
 What must be my apprehensions in what 
 
 / 
 
 low position must I look" for him when 
 3*011 say that your passion has existed so 
 long, and yet been so carefully concealed"?" 
 " So long ! Yes, the time has seemed 
 endless. He was a stripling I, a bride, 
 wedded to one I had never seen ! It was
 
 64 THE KING AND 
 
 nothing new. Love is not required at the 
 espousals of princes, but power ; and none 
 cared, when they saw me, whether the dia- 
 monds on my bosom covered a blighted 
 heart. In the glittering throng I was to 
 smile be always sparkling, always gay, 
 and even tremble to weep in my own closet. 
 Others sink their sorrows in sleep ; but 
 the pillow brought me torture. There I 
 counted the moments of the long, dreary 
 night, thinking of him I had lost, or seeing 
 his form flit through my broken and trou- 
 blous dreams. I was to meet him at the 
 banquet, or tournament, and see only a 
 stranger. His name was to resound in my 
 ear, and to pass like an idle word. Every 
 eye was to admire his beauty every tongue 
 laud his prowess; I, who loved, who adored 
 him I alone was to be silent. Do you 
 mark me, Sir?'
 
 THE COUNTESS. 65 
 
 "Proceed, Madam. I do not lose a syl- 
 lable." 
 
 " Mj anguish and my burthen were to be 
 increased/' resumed Louise. " I had borne 
 up against them, and fate was resolved to 
 crush me. The man I so dearly loved be- 
 came the husband, as I was the wife, of 
 another." 
 
 " Fortune was indeed cruel !" exclaimed 
 Francis. 
 
 " Oh ! what bitterness filled my heart, 
 when I saw her leave the altar, so proud 
 and so happy, hand in hand with him ! No 
 wonder that she seemed my deadly enemy 
 that I looked upon her, at first, with 
 envy, and then hated her." 
 
 " This was unjust." 
 
 " Do not reproach me. If my fault was 
 great, my punishment surpassed it. Her 
 husband, for whose sake I had almost
 
 66 THE KING AND 
 
 changed my nature, saw my antipathy to 
 her ; and ignorant of my motives, with- 
 drew from me even the poor consolation I 
 had found in his friendship. He became 
 my foe. When my pride was to be hum- 
 bled my spirit mortified, he was my ad- 
 yersary. It was his eye that met mine, yet 
 seemed not to see me his freezing words 
 that chilled my heart, which swelled with 
 love for him. Did not my sufferings ex- 
 ceed my offence V 
 
 " I must think so, indeed. But you have 
 entangled me in a labyrinth I am unable to 
 escape from. Can it be that you are still 
 attached to this man, so unforgiving, and 
 what is more, already a husband 1" 
 
 " He is no longer so. With your con- 
 sent I may be espoused to him to-morrow. 
 The Duchess is dead." 
 
 "Duchess!" exclaimed Francis, with a wild
 
 THE COUNTESS. 67 
 
 start. " Undeceive me directly, Madain, if 
 I am mistaken in my suppositions. Is the 
 man you so idolize the Duke de Bourbon I" 
 
 " My son, my sou," cried Louise, in agi- 
 tated tones, "restrain this passion, I be- 
 seech you." 
 
 " Speak, I say," returned the King. " I 
 command you to answer me." 
 
 Louise buried her face in her hands. 
 "You are right," she faltered. "It is 
 Bourbon that I lore." 
 
 " And you ask my consent to your union 1 
 Mine ! I have listened to you attentively, 
 and now hearken to me, while I swear, by 
 my crown and my life by my father's soul 
 by all I hold sacred " 
 
 " Oh ! no, no !" cried Louise, running 
 towards him, with her hands clasped in sup- 
 plication. "You will not you shall not, 
 make that vow. The son of my heart, in
 
 68 THE KING AND 
 
 whom I have lived whom I have reared so 
 tenderly, watched so fondly, will not doom 
 me to unhappiness. My fate must not be 
 sealed by you, Francis ! Do not forget 
 that I am your mother." 
 
 " Would you not sacrifice me, just to 
 gratify this childish passion T asked Fran- 
 cis, a little softened. " Shame, Madam, 
 shame ! You see this man already over- 
 grown, lording it over half France, and 
 waiting for a favourable moment to seize it 
 all. You know my aversion to him, and 
 his disaffection to me, and that he will only 
 accept your hand as a means of helping 
 him up to my throne ; yet, in the face of 
 all this, you would persuade me to sanction 
 your infatuation \" 
 
 " You wrong him, Francis ; only hear me 
 a moment." 
 
 " Hear that !" cried the King, as a loud
 
 THE COUNTESS. 69 
 
 shout arose in the street. " Nay," he 
 added, leading her to a window, " not only 
 hear, but see 1" 
 
 Looking forth, the Duchess perceived 
 Bourbon, richly accoutred, and mounted on 
 a stately black charger, preceding a train 
 of horsemen, in sumptuous dresses of blue 
 and gold, while a dense crowd of citizens 
 pressed around, rending the air with accla- 
 mations. 
 
 " Behold your lover, Madam !" said Fran- 
 cis, bitterly. " Mark how low he bends to 
 3 r on grimy smith, and good man cordwainer 
 there, his trusty allies. Save us, Lord Con- 
 stable ! you will lose your plume. Not so 
 low, I pray you, Sir. Your head is stiff 
 enough to kings and nobles. Here, Sir, 
 here ! and my serene mother will raise it a 
 span higher." 
 
 " You will not compassionate me, then 1"
 
 70 THE KING AND 
 
 cried Louise, in tones of despair. "Dis- 
 card your prejudices, if only for a mo- 
 ment. Dismiss the bugbear they have 
 raised, though it be but in pity to me ; and 
 a word "will convince you that, if your 
 apprehensions are well-founded, the alliance 
 I propose is the wisest step you could 
 take." 
 
 "I hear you, Madam," said the King, 
 masking his anger with an incredulous smile. 
 "Say on." 
 
 "Again you speak like my Francis," cried 
 Louise : " again you are noble and generous, 
 as well as just. Do you suppose, then, that 
 I will be less your mother, when I am the 
 wife of Bourbon 7 ? Say he entertains the 
 designs you imagine, can he long conceal 
 them from me ? And will I aid him, think 
 you, to overturn the throne of my son : or 
 will I not rather make him, what he once
 
 THE COUNTESS. 71 
 
 was, its chief support? Pause, pause, Francis. 
 The union that gives me happiness, restores 
 you your soldier and councillor. Do not, 
 in the same breath, condemn me to misery, 
 and irreparably injure yourself." 
 
 "Madam, you distract me," cried Francis, 
 restlessly pacing the room. "There may 
 be something in what you say, but it is 
 crude and undigested. I must consider well 
 before I give you an answer." 
 
 "Not so, my son," said Louise. "You 
 will debate it with your favourites, who are 
 Bourbon's enemies, and I foresee what they 
 will counsel. No ! you have heard my 
 reasoning, and must feel that it is just. Act 
 for yourself, act for me, your mother. Do 
 my tears appeal to you in vain 1 Say, 
 Francis, must your mother kneel to you V 
 
 " Enough, madam. I will no longer 
 oppose your wishes. It only remains to
 
 72 THE KING AND 
 
 inform the Constable of the honour you 
 propose for him." 
 
 " My heart is too full to thank you," 
 cried Louise. 
 
 " The Queen must negotiate the affair for 
 you," pursued Francis, "as she stands highest 
 in his favour. 1 will go to her at once, and 
 give her the necessary instructions." 
 
 " Once more I thank you ; but bear in 
 mind that the Queen is not so well inclined 
 to me as yourself." 
 
 " This is one of those misfortunes that I 
 must always remember," replied Francis. 
 " But adieu. I leave you to brighter fancies." 
 
 A few minutes after the monarch had re- 
 tired, an usher entered. 
 
 " A holy father solicits an audience of 
 your grace," he said to Louise, " in behalf 
 of the Lady Mirandola." 
 
 " Ha !" exclaimed Louise ; " I will see the
 
 THE COUNTESS. 73 
 
 reverend man. Conduct him to the saloon." 
 And, as the page hastened to obey, she 
 murmured, "The wise Agrippa warns me 
 that the stars are adverse, yet all seems 
 favourable. What can be pointed at \ This 
 Queen, perchance ! How, if she plays me 
 false ? I must watch her close, or it may 
 so happen. But now to hear of my fair 
 hostage." 
 
 And smiling exultingly, she quitted the 
 room. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 74 THE KINO AND 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Love is not to be reason'd down, or lost 
 In high ambition, or a thirst of greatness. 
 
 ADDISON. 
 
 Love will never bear enslaving ; 
 
 Summer garments suit him best ; 
 Bliss itself is not worth having, 
 
 If we're by compulsion blest. 
 
 MOOBE. 
 
 As Queen Claude, the consort of Francis, 
 was an invalid, her closet was furnished 
 with more regard to comfort than splendour, 
 and a recess, screened by crimson hang- 
 ings, contained a couch to which she could
 
 THE COUNTESS. 75 
 
 retire at pleasure through the day, and 
 there seek the repose her sinking frame 
 required. 
 
 The illustrious Princess was reclining 
 rather than sitting in a high-backed chair, 
 placed on a dais, at the foot of which sat 
 her favourite Maid of Honour, Julia de 
 Vigny. Her features had originally been 
 attractive, but the bloom which once adorned 
 them was gone, giving place to a flush deep 
 and burning, and heightened in effect by the 
 brilliancy of her eye. Constant dejection 
 appeared in her looks ; and it was clear 
 that no hand but That which, ministering 
 to "the mind diseased," sometimes plucks 
 " from the memory a rooted sorrow," could 
 arrest her decline. That beneficent in- 
 fluence was not altogether wanting, and 
 might be traced in an expression of pious 
 endurance, gentleness, and even resignation, 
 
 B2
 
 76 THE KING AND 
 
 blended with the other, which was more 
 fascinating than beauty. 
 
 Humbled by a successful and exulting 
 rival, supplanted in that which fonned her 
 dearest possession the affections of Francis, 
 loved by her with a devotion and ardour 
 that time could not abate, Claude had made 
 no effort to recover her ascendancy, but, 
 in the midst of a gay and voluptuous court, 
 led the life of a recluse. She breathed no 
 complaint, uttered no remonstrance, but 
 submitted in silence to the King's defection, 
 weary of the world, oppressed by its pomps 
 and vanities, and longing for the repose of 
 the tomb. 
 
 From time to time the loved attendant 
 turned a glance of anxious interest on 
 her face without once speaking, but was 
 ultimately interrupted by the entrance 
 of an usher, announcing the Duke de
 
 THE COUNTESS. 77 
 
 Bourbon, whom Claude ordered to be ad- 
 mitted. 
 
 "Leave us, Julia," she added to her 
 favourite, "and let the King be informed 
 that my Lord Constable is with me." 
 
 As Julia hurried away, the visitor was 
 introduced. 
 
 Charles, Duke de Bourbon, Constable of 
 France, was now in the prime of life, pos- 
 sessing a person remarkable for manly 
 beauty, and every grace esteemed in courts. 
 Fine dark eyes, full of intelligence and 
 vivacity, lighted up a countenance bronzed 
 by foreign suns, and impressed with those 
 characters of majesty and genius which ex- 
 ercise an irresistible influence on the be- 
 holder. His reputation accorded with this 
 imposing appearance. In early life he had 
 signalized himself at jousts and tourna- 
 ments, snatching the prize from the greatest
 
 78 THE KINO AND 
 
 warriors in Christendom ; and subsequently 
 had been the hero of those brilliant and 
 famous victories, which had cost France so 
 much blood and treasure. But what ren- 
 dered him more popular, was his unbounded 
 generosity, supported by a revenue almost 
 regal, and largely shared by the enslaved 
 and suffering commons, who, regarding the 
 nobles generally with intense hatred, looked 
 up to him with reverence and affection. 
 
 "I received your message, Madam," he 
 said, after respectfully saluting the Queen, 
 " and have come to learn your pleasure." 
 
 " You are ever kind, good kinsman," 
 answered Claude. "I think often of the 
 services you have rendered me, and the 
 advantages I have derived from your friend- 
 ship." 
 
 "It is I who am the debtor, Madam, 
 honoured with your confidence, and ad-
 
 THE COUNTESS. 79 
 
 mitted to the privilege of conversing with 
 you." 
 
 "Think you, then, cousin, that I forget 
 that I can ever forget, that fatal morning, 
 when I was preserved by you from such 
 painful humiliation \ I was then proud 
 perhaps haughty, and my heart was wrung 
 by it. Now I can bear mortification at 
 least, I can think, even speak of that, and 
 be perfectly calm." 
 
 " I entreat you not to recall these recol- 
 lections, Madam. They are as distressing 
 to me as to yourself." 
 
 " Still we will turn back for a moment, 
 as it has some reference to my object. You 
 know that I refer to the day when Madame 
 de Chateaubriant see, I am calm ! when 
 Madame, I say, first appeared in public as 
 the avowed favourite of the King. Nay, 
 forgive my tears they are nothing. She
 
 80 THE KING AND 
 
 came, I say, and every one thronged to 
 adore her to parade themselves in her 
 train, to court her smiles, only for Julia I 
 should have been alone, alone in my own 
 court, a deserted wife, a fallen Queen, whom 
 the spectators, perhaps, might pity, but were 
 afraid to countenance." 
 
 " Then they were false and dastardly 
 traitors. Your highness merited all their 
 attention." 
 
 " I have learned to think leniently of 
 them ; but, in that bitter moment, deemed 
 them ungenerous, if not cruel. Still their 
 defection was only momentary. You ap- 
 peared, and the crowd opened to admi 
 you, while she, on whom all eyes centred, 
 advanced to bid you welcome. How I 
 trembled to see her siren smile, to hear her 
 soft voice, as she approached you ! I need 
 not have feared. You replied to her ho-
 
 THE COUNTESS. 81 
 
 nejed greeting with a cold bow, moving on 
 to me ; and though a murmur of surprise 
 ran through the saloon, all followed jour 
 steps. Bourbon knelt at my feet, and I was 
 again a Queen." 
 
 " I did but my duty, Madam, and permit 
 me to say, the duty was a privilege." 
 
 " You have ever since been my friend, 
 I might say, my protector," resumed Claude ; 
 " for I owe the consideration I receive to 
 your influence. But, to speak no further of 
 this ; I need not remind you, from that 
 day Madame de Chateaubriant became your 
 enemy, and, by degrees, has effected a breach 
 between you and the King." 
 
 " The enmity of such a person, gracious 
 Madam, is a thing to be despised. If I have 
 fallen under the King's displeasure, do not 
 doubt that a time will come when he will 
 see my integrity, and do me justice." 
 
 E 3
 
 82 THE KING AND 
 
 " Meanwhile, cousin, every day sets you 
 further apart, and you incur wrongs of which 
 his highness is ignorant. The treasure you 
 have lent him is not repaid ; your great ser- 
 vices are forgotten ; your pensions stopped ; 
 and even your rights of seignory infringed. 
 I, kinsman, whom you have so kindly, gene- 
 rously supported, am the involuntary cause 
 of this rupture. It is I who have estranged 
 the King from you ; and you cannot wonder 
 that I wish to see you friends again." 
 
 " It is what I heartily desire, your grace ; 
 but we must wait." 
 
 " Nay," said Claude, with a faint smile, 
 " reconciliation is nearer than you imagine. 
 The King seeks it, as well as yourself." 
 
 " How say you, gracious Madam 1 Is 
 not some one misleading you 1" 
 
 " I have it from his own lips," returned 
 Claude. " He not only wishes to be recon-
 
 THE COUNTESS. 83 
 
 ciled to you, but authorizes me to make a 
 proposal, which, I think, will unite you for 
 
 ever." 
 
 " Your highness amazes me. What does 
 he propose ' 
 
 " What would, indeed, give peace and 
 strength to France, kinsman what would 
 heal our unhappy dissensions, and restore to 
 us concord and prosperity. In a word, he 
 offers you the hand of his mother." 
 
 Bourbon uttered an exclamation. 
 
 " You change colour, good kinsman," fal- 
 tered Claude. " Ah ! what does this agita- 
 tion mean 1 ?" 
 
 " It means, gracious Madam, that I am 
 pained to reject an overture made to me 
 through you." 
 
 " Oh ! you do not reject it ! Think, think 
 of what I have said. To-morrow we will 
 speak of it again."
 
 84 THE KING AND 
 
 " Your highness must excuse me. Had 
 you asked my life, it should have been 
 your's, but I must not surrender my honour. 
 No, believe me, my decision is fixed, im- 
 movable ! I can never ally myself with 
 Louise of Savoy." 
 
 " Proud man !" exclaimed Louise, step- 
 ping from behind the hangings of the re- 
 cess, and speaking in a voice tremulous 
 with rage, " you shall rue this insolence. 
 Look on me henceforward as your mortal 
 foe!" 
 
 " Madam," answered Bourbon, composedly, 
 " I have never sought your friendship, and 
 shall not fear your enmity/' 
 
 "Hold, my Lord, I entreat you!" cried 
 Claude, in accents of terror. " Oh ! Madam, 
 you are to blame in speaking thus ! Alas ! 
 here is the King." 
 
 "You have come in good time, Sire,"
 
 THE COUNTESS. 85 
 
 cried Louise, as Francis advanced, looking in 
 amazement from one to another. " Behold 
 your parent insulted, yourself humbled ; 
 your haughty vassal disdains the honour 
 you proposed for him. He refuses my 
 hand." 
 
 " How I" exclaimed Francis, furiously, 
 and grasping the hilt of his sword. " I 
 have borne with you a long time," ho 
 added, with flashing eyes, as he turned on 
 Bourbon ; " but this passes endurance." 
 
 " My liege," said Bourbon, unable to 
 repress a burst of anger, " you mistake. It 
 is I who have borne with you." 
 
 " Oh ! Bourbon ! kinsman !" cried Claude, 
 " by your friendship for me, I conjure you 
 to be silent. And, Sire, my husband, by 
 the love you once bore me, do not so much 
 wrong to your own honor as to speak 
 harshly to our soldier."
 
 86 THE KING AND 
 
 Here her voice failed, and she sank, 
 almost fainting, on the King's arm. 
 
 " Ah ! Sire, do you again- support me T 5 
 she then murmured, with a flood of tears. 
 "I thank you, though it will not be for long. 
 But first I owe you a service my children 
 a duty. It is this !" 
 
 She raised his hand, and placed it in 
 that of Bourbon, saying " Heaven bless 
 you both ! Be friends !" 
 
 As the scarcely audible words were ut- 
 tered, her eyes closed, and the dying Queen 
 fell back in a swoon.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 87 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Such an act, 
 
 That blurs the grace and blush of modesty ; 
 Calls virtue, hypocrite : takes off the rose 
 From the fair forehead of an innocent love, 
 And sets a blister there : makes marriage vows 
 As false as dicers' oaths. 
 
 SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 IT was not without a sigh that, on ar- 
 riving at Rheims, Esine Noel reined up for 
 a moment at an auberge, called " The 
 Golden Lion," where Corinna and her com- 
 panions alighted. Glad of a pretext for 
 seeing her again, he begged to be the bearer 
 of .her commands to Meziercs, as soon as his
 
 88 THE KING AND 
 
 mission to the King was fulfilled ; and Co- 
 rinna readily accepted the offer, having, 
 from ignorance as to how she would be 
 situated, given no instructions to those of 
 her attendants left behind, but which an 
 interview with the Duchess d'Angouleme 
 would enable her to transmit to them. Well 
 pleased at the result, Esme rode slowly 
 away, though his heart and thoughts lin- 
 gered at the auberge. 
 
 Morning was somewhat advanced, and 
 the narrow streets of the ancient city were 
 full of bustle ; but, as he shaped his course 
 towards the palace, in order to obtain an 
 instant audience of Francis, the Englishman 
 scarcely heeded the gay shops on either 
 hand, or knots of officers and courtiers, on 
 foot and horseback, following the same route 
 as himself. Imagination still chained him 
 to Corinna, finding encouragement, in the
 
 THE COUNTESS. 89 
 
 strange accident which threw her under his 
 protection, for the wildest fancies. lie 
 thought with pride of the impression likely 
 to be produced by his services, on a nature 
 so gentle and sensitive, which, be it known, 
 had made a far deeper impression on him. 
 In fact, the young adventurer was in love, 
 and with a rashness inseparable from youth, 
 did not pause to consider that his mistress 
 was beyond reach. 
 
 Esme, indeed, could put forward few 
 claims to consideration, beyond a manly 
 heart, a skilful sword, and an honourable 
 name. Ancestral possessions, once including 
 the fairest manors of Rutlandshire, had 
 gradually dwindled, till, at last, the acres 
 remaining were confiscated to the crown, by 
 the implication of his father in Perkin 
 "Wai-beck's rebellion. Made an orphan by 
 the executioner's axe, he was placed in a
 
 90 THE KING AND 
 
 monastery, to be educated for the priest- 
 hood ; but, preferring the more attractive 
 profession of arms, had broken out of the 
 sacred retreat, in company with honest Bar- 
 naby, and made his way to France. Here 
 he found a distant relation named William 
 De la Pole, who, as representative of the 
 fallen House of York, had given himself the 
 title of La Rose Blanche ; and, through 
 him, he procured an immediate introduction 
 into the French service. This, however, the 
 airs of sovereignty assumed by De la Pole 
 had rendered irksome, and he waited only 
 till the term of enrolment should expire, to 
 engage his sword with another master. 
 
 Approaching the palace, the travel-stained 
 rider and jaded steed attracted the notice of 
 numerous knights and courtiers assembled 
 in front of it, or pacing to and fro in groups ; 
 and, seeing such a concourse in attendance,
 
 THE COUNTESS. 91 
 
 Esme began to consider how he was to 
 gain access to the King. 
 
 " What, cousin mine ! you here 1 " cried a 
 voice, interrupting his cogitation. "I 
 thought you were at Mezieres, studying on 
 short rations the advantages of obedience." 
 
 " Come, peace, La Rose Blanche ! " said 
 the young and sparkling Bonnivet, Admiral 
 of France. " Your kinsman brings us news, 
 I am sure." 
 
 " By my soul, I believe, the poor fellow 
 has been starved!" exclaimed La Rose 
 Blanche, in a softened voice. "What are 
 your tidings, Noel ? " 
 
 " Bad enough, kinsman. But they must 
 go first to the King's ear, if you will lead 
 me to him." 
 
 " What say you, my Lord "? " said the 
 Pretender to Marshal Lautrec, a tall, stern- 
 looking man, bearing little resemblance to
 
 92 THE KING AND 
 
 his beautiful sister, Anne de Chateaubriant ; 
 " will you help the boy to an audience ? " 
 
 "Cannot Bonnivet do if?" answered 
 Lautrec, carelessly. " Take him to Madame, 
 Admiral. She wishes to speak with you." 
 
 " I will attend her, then," replied Bonni- 
 vet. " Come, Sir. You shall not want a 
 chamberlain, were it only for your own sake, 
 and much more for your errand's." 
 
 Consigning Esme's horse to one of a 
 throng of attendants, loitering in the palace- 
 vestibule, he led him up a private staircase 
 to a saloon, from which they were introduced 
 to the apartments of Anne de Chateau- 
 briant. 
 
 This lovely and fascinating woman was 
 the wife of the Count of that name, and the 
 circumstances attending her separation from 
 him are too romantic to be suppressed. 
 Fearing to encounter temptation, he had
 
 THE COUNTESS. 93 
 
 carefully secluded her for some years in a 
 gloomy castle, a considerable distance from 
 the Court ; but, in spite of his precautions, 
 the fame of her extraordinary beauty spread 
 abroad, and finally became known to the 
 King. Francis rallied him on his apparent 
 jealousy, and requested so earnestly that 
 the fair recluse should be brought to the ca- 
 pital, that Chateaubriant, having exhausted 
 every excuse, could at last only evade com- 
 pliance by a stratagem. Informing the 
 Countess, therefore, of what had occurred, 
 he arranged to write a letter on his return 
 to Paris, requiring her presence at Court ; 
 but she was oil no account to obey the 
 summons, unless it was accompanied by 
 his signet-ring. The letter was accordingly 
 written, but arriving without the appointed 
 token, Anne refused to leave the country ; 
 and her reply being produced, convinced
 
 94 THE KING AND 
 
 Francis that she remained there from 
 choice. Overjoyed at his success, Chateau- 
 briant forgot his prudence, and confided the 
 secret to a favourite valet. By him it was 
 betrayed to Francis, who, concealing his 
 knowledge of it, persuaded Chateaubriant 
 to send a second summons to the Countess, 
 and privately forwarded a counterpart of 
 the signet-ring, as if coming from her hus- 
 band. This led to the desired result ; and 
 Chateaubriant retired in disgust to a remote 
 province, leaving his wife to rule the 
 Court. 
 
 Madame de Chateaubriant was pacing 
 the room with a musing step, when Bonni- 
 vet and Esme entered. 
 
 "What! meditating, Countess 1 ?" cried the 
 Admiral. "Is it possible you can be 
 serious 1 " 
 
 " I have no cause to be so," said Anne
 
 THE COUNTESS. 95 
 
 gailj ; " for I have just heard a tale of my 
 Lord Constable, which makes me quite 
 cheerful. But who is this?" And she 
 glanced inquiringly at Esme. 
 
 "A messenger from Bayard," answered 
 Bonnivet. " He has made his way here 
 our Lady knows how ! through the midst 
 of the Emperor's army." 
 
 "Indeed!" exclaimed Anne with a look of 
 interest, though not understanding the 
 merit of the feat. " You have ridden hard, 
 Sir, I see. Is all well with the Chevalier V 
 
 " As well as it can be in a beleagured 
 town, madam," replied Esme. 
 
 "My friend brings pressing news from 
 him, Countess," observed Bonnivet. " They 
 can only be disclosed to the King, and I 
 I must beg you to introduce us to his 
 highness, or much delay will occur." 
 
 " You must be patient," said Anne with
 
 96 THE KING AND 
 
 a smile. " The King is conferring with the 
 Duchess d'Angouleme on a matter of great 
 moment, and cannot be interrupted." 
 
 " Not even by you 1 " 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! You think I may do anything. 
 Now a word with you, apart here. And 
 do you, Sir, rest satisfied a while. The 
 King will send for me anon, and I will then 
 conduct you to him." 
 
 Motioning Esme to a seat, the gay Coun- 
 tess led Bonnivet to the recess of a window, 
 where they conversed together earnestly 
 for some time, when an attendant informed 
 her that Francis was disengaged ; and she 
 immediately turned to Esme, inviting him 
 and Bonnivet to follow her from the room.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 97 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A lazy, proud, unprofitable crew, 
 
 The vermin, gender'd from the rank corruption 
 
 Of a luxurious state. 
 
 CUMBERLAND. 
 
 I am no courtier, no fawning dog of state, 
 To lick and kiss the hand that buffets me. 
 
 SEWELL. 
 
 DAMES and nobles, attired in magnificent 
 court-dresses, were dispersed in groups round 
 the presence-chamber, where Francis, seated 
 on a dais, in a chair of state, conversed in 
 low tones with Jean de Lorraine, whose 
 arrogant look and proud form, assorted well 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 THE KING AND 
 
 with his costume of a Cardinal. At their 
 side stood a dark, slight man, in the robes 
 of Chancellor, known to fame as the learned 
 but unprincipled Du Prat, President of the 
 Parliament of Paris. A step lower sat 
 Henri d'Albret, King of Navarre, talking 
 with Francois de Bourbon, Count of St. 
 Paul, and Robert Stuart, Seigneur d'Aubigny, 
 who, as a prince of the blood-royal of Scot- 
 land, enjoyed the distinction of the dais. 
 
 As Anne de Chateaubriant led forward 
 Esme, a shrill whistle was heard, and a 
 diminutive, sharp-featured man, grotesquely 
 apparalled, having on his head a fool's cap 
 and bells, bounded nimbly through the 
 throng, mounting the dais, and presenting 
 himself before Francis, 
 
 " Here, Franky, take your cap and bau- 
 ble," he cried, " and let me go my way. I 
 will have no more of your worshipful ser- 
 
 vice."
 
 THE COUNTESS. 99 
 
 " How now, Triboulet 1" exclaimed Fran- 
 cis. " What impertinence is this V 
 
 " Impertinence, good gossip !" cried Tri- 
 boulet. " Art thou losing thy wit, as well 
 thy other commodities \ Now, I pray you, 
 define me impertinence. Is it to do one's 
 self a good turn, at a seasonable time ? This 
 were to be pertinent, I think, or my gran- 
 dame has taught me wrong/' 
 
 " Go to ! I will not waste words on a 
 fool." 
 
 " Therein lies the whole matter, gossip ; 
 so I say again, take thy bauble, and I will 
 be gone." 
 
 " Your reason, good Wisdom? You must 
 give me a reason." 
 
 " Simply, then, I will not serve the man 
 when I can follow the master." 
 
 " This is poor fooling," rejoined the King. 
 " None can be called my master." 
 
 F 2
 
 100 THE KING AND 
 
 " The knave is more traitor than fool," 
 scowled Cardinal Lorraine, who was at 
 mortal feud with Triboulet. 
 
 " A Solon ! a Solon !" exclaimed the 
 Jester. " Hear, all whom it may concern, 
 the wise, the witty, the reverend Lord Car- 
 dinal! He has made a discovery a won- 
 der ! Long live Solon !" 
 
 " Silence, thou empty hogshead !" said 
 the Cardinal, enraged. " It needs little 
 sagacity to discover that thou art a fool." 
 
 " And less, Lord Cardinal, to see that 
 thou art a miracle of knowledge," cried Tri- 
 boulet. " Yet why hide the truth under 
 that scarlet robe, gossip \ Oh, Mammon ! 
 thou hast much to answer for much, much ! 
 even to the glosing of this reverend's man 
 words. Fye, Sir Mammon ! fye ! would you 
 make him a heretic V 
 
 " Thou art a lying knave," cried Lorraine ;
 
 THE COUNTESS. 101 
 
 " and his highness has well said that words 
 are wasted on you." 
 
 " Did you not speak heresy V asked Tri- 
 
 boulet. " Now I call every one to witness, 
 
 an i, Franky, you be my judge, if I do not 
 
 prove that the reverend Cardinal spoke 
 
 falsely." 
 
 " To the point," said Francis, " and be 
 brief." 
 
 "Briefly, then, he sanctions, what you 
 assert, that you have no master 1" 
 
 " Assuredly." 
 
 " Then I say again he is a heretic ; for 
 you have a master in the Church. How 1 
 have I hit you "? But he calls her your mis- 
 tress, mayhap ; and certainly she hath one 
 quality of that brood she gives nothing for 
 nothing." 
 
 " This is good," cried Henry of Navarre, 
 who had secretly embraced Calvinism, and
 
 102 THE KING AND 
 
 entertained a strong antipathy to everything 
 Papal. " Say on fool, thou deservest to be 
 made a professor." 
 
 " Ha ! gossip Henry !" cried Triboulet, 
 " do you scent a priest ? On my conscience, 
 thou hast a rare nose for such things, though 
 thou see'st as far into a joke as a mill- 
 stone/' 
 
 "Thy jokes are all mill-stones, gossip," 
 said Henry, good humouredly. 
 
 " The fool is silenced," cried the Cardinal. 
 
 "Nay, my Lord," interposed Du Prat, with 
 "whom Triboulet was secretly in league, " it 
 seems that we are all wandering from the 
 true question. What we want is, the fool's 
 reason for relinquishing his bauble." 
 
 " Aptly spoken, lawyer," said Triboulet, 
 "and withal like one who hath more wit 
 than honesty. But were I on the defensive, 
 this should not serve you, seeing that, as a
 
 THE COUNTESS. 103 
 
 courtier, I could slip through your fingers 
 like an eel/' 
 
 " You grow tedious, fool," said Francis. 
 " Either tell us your mind in a few words, 
 or be at peace." 
 
 "Do you seek peace V asked Triboulet. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Then hold thy peace, gossip. As for 
 me, my matter shall be crammed into a nut- 
 shell. I will speak by the card, Franky ; 
 throw a whole sentence into a syllable. 
 Now, I pray you, unriddle me this 
 riddle 
 
 Shining both, within one sphere, 
 Which the greater, say, is here 
 Bourbon king, or Bourbon peer ? 
 
 But room, room for my Lord Constable ! 
 Take your fool's traps, Franky ! I am free 
 of you. My Lord Constable, will you re- 
 ceive a poor motley into your service 1"
 
 104 THE KING AND 
 
 Bourbon, still advancing, appeared quite 
 unconscious that he was addressed. 
 
 " My Lord/' cried Du Prat, " you are 
 losing all the sport. The fool speaks to 
 you." 
 
 " Well, I hear you/' answered Bourbon 
 gravely. 
 
 A loud laugh followed his words, in the 
 midst of which Anne de Chateaubriant pre- 
 sented herself. 
 
 "I must request your attention for a 
 moment, Sire," she said. " This gentleman 
 brings you intelligence from Mezieres." 
 
 " From Mezieres !" cried Francis ; and a 
 murmur of surprise spread around. " Im- 
 possible ! How did you get through the 
 enemy's lines, Sir T 
 
 " More easily than I expected, my liege," 
 answered Esme. " But my report is for 
 your highness's ear alone."
 
 THE COUNTESS. 105 
 
 " It is well," returned Francis, and step- 
 ping apart, Esrne communicated to him 
 Bayard's message. 
 
 " He must be relieved," said the King, 
 " though it should cost us a battle. For 
 yourself, accept my thanks ; your good ser- 
 vice shall not go unrewarded." 
 
 " I am much beholden to your highness," 
 replied Esine ; " and must not omit to ac- 
 quaint you with another particular, which 
 is that I escorted here the Lady Mirandola 
 and two of her suite, who fell into our hands 
 in a sortie." 
 
 His last words were overheard by Lor- 
 raine and Du Prat. 
 
 " Is this the Cardinal Farnese's niece 1 
 asked the Prelate of the Chancellor. 
 
 " The same !" answered Du Prat. " A 
 rich prize for this adventurer, if, as I believe, 
 he has made the most of his time. 
 
 F3
 
 106 THE KING AND 
 
 " Ma foi ! you are jesting," returned Lor- 
 raine, with a sinister smile. " However, 
 young damsels require watching, and I will 
 see that they do not meet again. I have 
 other views for her." 
 
 In fact, the wily Cardinal had conceived 
 the design of attracting the King to Co- 
 rinna, and so raising a rival to Anne de 
 Chateaubriant, whom he longed to over- 
 throw. 
 
 " How did this circumstance happen V 
 asked Francis of Esme. 
 
 The Englishman related briefly the par- 
 ticulars of Corinna's capture. 
 
 "So you were the hero of that affair alsol" 
 smiled the King. "On my word, young 
 man, you promise fair ; and, if appearances 
 may be trusted, we shall hear something 
 more of you." Turning to Bonnivet, he 
 added, " Our long-expected hostage has ar-
 
 THE COUNTESS. 107 
 
 rived, Admiral ; so you will see her placed 
 in charge of the Duchess d'Angouleme, in 
 accordance with our contract ; and then set 
 the Count of Mirandola at liberty." 
 
 "Permit me to observe, Sire, that this 
 duty should be fulfilled by me/' observed 
 Bourbon. "It belongs to my office of 
 Constable." 
 
 " Perhaps you will put in a claim for the 
 hostage, my Lord, as well as for the Count," 
 said Francis coldly. 
 
 " Ah ! Sire," cried Anne de Chateau- 
 briant. " She is a lady, and my Lord Con- 
 stable has never been distinguished for 
 gallantry." 
 
 "His lordship prefers more profitable 
 things," said Bonnivet. " In truth, I marvel 
 that one who owns half France, and holds 
 so many high offices, can remember, much 
 less perform, all his different duties."
 
 108 THE KING AND 
 
 " Ah," observed Marshal Lautrec, " or 
 even find time to attend the Court." 
 
 " If he is so much occupied," said Francis, 
 loud enough to be heard by Bourbon, " I 
 would endeavour to dispense with his at- 
 tendance." And, raising his voice, he added, 
 " I have made known my commands in this 
 business, my Lord, and you need give your- 
 self no trouble therein." 
 
 A haughty inclination of the head was 
 Bourbon's reply, and he turned to retire. 
 
 " By your leave, cousin, I accompany 
 you," cried the Count of St. Paul. 
 
 "And I, my Lord," cried Robert Stewart. 
 " And I, and I," cried several others. 
 
 " They have found us an apple of dis- 
 cord," murmured the King of Navarre ; 
 "and we want only a few bigoted priests to 
 set it rolling. Well, I will go with the 
 stream."
 
 THE COUNTESS. 109 
 
 He sidled off after Bourbon, and in a 
 few minutes the saloon was comparatively 
 deserted. 
 
 " Our gentle kinsman, it seems, draws 
 every one in his train," muttered Francis, 
 unable to conceal his chagrin ; " and will 
 soon tower above the throne." 
 
 "High as he thinks himself, Sire," said 
 Du Prat, in a low voice, "you have but 
 to say the word, and I will pull him 
 down." 
 
 "Ha!" 
 
 " Did not your serene mother discover my 
 intentions to your highness V 
 
 11 She spoke just now of some wild scheme; 
 but I thought it dictated by her resentment, 
 and too chimerical to act upon." 
 
 " You shall find, my liege, that it can be 
 realized, and may even now consider that 
 proud and traitorous man as ruined. Sire,
 
 110 THE KING AND 
 
 sire, believe me am not I to be his 
 judge ?" 
 
 " I see you are right," said Francis, 
 slightly colouring. " Tell me no more." 
 
 " One word, my liege," murmured Car- 
 dinal Lorraine, as the King was stepping to- 
 wards Anne de Chateaubriant. " You must 
 see this Lady Miranclola. She is a perfect 
 mirror of beauty ." 
 
 " Have you learnt that already 1 Pr'y thee, 
 how did you acquire the intelligence 1" 
 
 " With my own eyes, Sire, in Italy, where 
 I saw her often." 
 
 " But after her fatiguing journey she will 
 be invisible to-night, and even to-morrow 
 will be somewhat early to visit her. If we 
 alarm the Duchess d'Angouleme, an inter- 
 view may be difficult." 
 
 " In that will lie the merriment, my liege. 
 " A billet shall inform her Grace that two
 
 THE COUNTESS. Ill 
 
 poor Capuchins, skilled in magic, desire to 
 wait upon her ; and in this disguise we will 
 gain admittance." 
 
 " That will do well/' laughed the light- 
 hearted monarch. " I shall not fail to join 
 you." 
 
 He now turned to Anne de Chateaubriant 
 and Bonnivet, and retired by a private 
 door.
 
 112 THE KING AND 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Duchess. Well said, my masters ; and welcome all : 
 
 To this geer ; the sooner, the better. 
 Bolinglroke. Patience, good lady; wizards know 
 their times. 
 
 SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 ESME found, on inquiry, that his late com- 
 panions made but a short stay at " The 
 Golden Lion," having, as soon as they had 
 rested, proceeded to the lodging of the 
 Duchess d'Angouleme. Much fatigued, he 
 installed himself at the auberge, to await 
 orders from Francis. 
 
 Next morning he was surprised, on awak-
 
 THE COUNTESS. 113 
 
 ing, to see a person lying at his feet, and 
 quickly discovered that it was Barnaby. A 
 slight kick tumbled the worthy henchman 
 on the floor. 
 
 " It is you, then !" said Esme. " I thought 
 at first it was a vision/' 
 
 " I thought it was an earthquake," said 
 Barnaby, as he picked himself up. " Is this 
 the welcome your worship gives me, after 
 the chase I have had 1" 
 
 "What in the name of wonder brought 
 you here 1" 
 
 " A horse, noble master." 
 
 " You are still mysterious," answered 
 Esme ; " but I need not care for particulars, 
 so long as you are safe and sound ; and, I 
 confess, I am well pleased to see you." 
 
 " There is something in hand, then, I 
 warrant, or you would not be so benevolent. 
 But, mercy on me! I forget all this time
 
 114 THE KING AND 
 
 that you are waiting for breakfast. They 
 shall soon get it ready." 
 
 Esme replied with a laugh, thinking Bar- 
 naby's zeal in the matter not entirely dis- 
 interested. Be that as it might, he proved 
 a good caterer ; and by the time Esme was 
 dressed, a substantial breakfast appeared, to 
 which they both did justice. It was then 
 determined that Barnaby should repair to 
 the palace, and ascertain what hour would 
 be most suitable for Esme to attend Corinna, 
 according to their previous arrangement. 
 
 The trusty henchman was some time 
 absent, but Esme passed the interval very 
 agreeably, thinking of the object of his 
 mission. These reflections were interrupted 
 by Barnaby 's return. 
 
 " Well, did you deliver my message T 
 asked Esme. 
 
 " I gave it to the waiting-woman," re-
 
 THE COUNTESS. 115 
 
 plied Barnaby ; "and a very sensible one 
 she is." 
 
 " And when am I to visit the Lady 
 Mirandola 1" 
 
 " There lies the difficulty ; for they 
 hare placed her under lock and key, as 
 it were, and no one is to have access to 
 her." 
 
 " I will demand it. My word is pledged 
 to carry her commands to Mezieres, and it 
 must not be broken." 
 
 " This is well ; but the waiting-woman 
 Minna, as she calls herself thinks that the 
 order has been given on your worship's 
 account, and, therefore, that you especially 
 will be excluded. Still the thing can be 
 managed, as you shall see." 
 
 Here he produced a sack, which Esme in 
 his impatience had not noticed, and drew 
 from it the frock and cowl of a Capuchin,
 
 116 THE KING AND 
 
 adroitly throwing them over his person, like 
 one well acquainted with such attire. 
 
 " Pax vobiscuin ! " he then said, in a 
 solemn yoice. 
 
 " Excellent !" laughed Esme. " You bear 
 yourself so reverently, the Pope himself 
 would be deceived in you. Your design is, 
 I suppose, that I am to gain admittance to 
 the palace in this habit 1" 
 
 "In the fellow to it, which is in the 
 sack; for the damsel counsels that I should 
 accompany you, as two will be less sus- 
 pected than one. We are to go to-night, 
 at eight of the clock, and inquire for Padre 
 Stephano, leaving the' rest to be arranged 
 by her." 
 
 "Let her do as she will," said Esme. 
 " We will not fail to be there." 
 
 At the appointed hour they assumed 
 their disguise, and slipping out unperceived,
 
 THE COUNTESS. 117 
 
 made for the palace. Arrived at the part 
 appropriated to the Duchess, they entered 
 a waiting-hall, and inquired for Padre 
 Stephano. 
 
 " I cannot let you pass to him," said an 
 usher ; " but he shall be told that you are 
 here." 
 
 As he went to call the priest, another at- 
 tendant stepped forward. 
 
 " Two Capuchins !" he murmured. " Pray, 
 Sirs, are you not the reverend fathers we 
 are expecting 1" 
 
 " Doubtless," answered Esme ; " for they 
 know we are coming." 
 
 "Then, I am ordered to wait on your 
 reverences, if you will please to follow," said 
 the Page. 
 
 He led the way up a staircase, termi- 
 nated by large folding-doors, which he 
 threw open ; and before they could retreat,
 
 118 THE KING AND 
 
 ushered them into the presence of the 
 Duchess d'Angouleme. 
 
 " Ha ! the reverend magicians !" cried 
 Louise. "Retire to the further cabinet," 
 she added to two attendant damsels, in one 
 of whom Esine recognised Corinna, " and 
 wait there till I summon you." 
 
 " Here's a dilemma !" muttered Barriabj, 
 prevented by Esme from rushing out. 
 
 " Welcome, reverend Sirs," said the 
 Duchess, " The billet, announcing your 
 arrival at Rheims, and tendering your ser- 
 vices, afforded me great satisfaction. But 
 which of you is the learned brother Barna- 
 bas ; for though I doubt not the skill of the 
 pupil, the question I would ask requires an 
 experienced astrologer 1" 
 
 " Whatever it be, Madam, answered 
 Esme, "brother Barnabas here is so well 
 skilled in the science, that I make no doubt, 
 he will solve it."
 
 THE COUNTESS. 119 
 
 " Me !" said Barnaby, confounded. "No, 
 no ! do it yourself/' 
 
 " You have, I see, a good opinion of your 
 scholar, father," observed Louise, diverted 
 at what she considered his eccentricity; 
 " and, no doubt, have taken much pains to 
 instruct him." 
 
 " For the pains I have bestowed on him, 
 Madam, answered Barnaby, becoming more 
 confident, " they cannot be told ; but this 
 would trouble me little, were they not 
 almost thrown away. Brother Esmegristus 
 here, Madam, is a dullard a poor, heavy 
 fellow, Madam willing, mayhap, but rather" 
 And he significantly tapped his fore- 
 head. 
 
 " Rascal !" muttered Esme. 
 
 " You are too severe upon him, I am 
 sure," smiled Louise. " But come to my 
 withdrawing-room, where we shall be alone ;
 
 120 THE KING AND 
 
 for I have ordered that no one is to be 
 admitted but yourselves." 
 
 Flinging back some drapery,she disclosed 
 a state closet, and led the way in. 
 
 " Now I will seek the Lady Mirandola," 
 thought Esme, "and leave Brother Barnabas 
 to display his attainments." 
 
 As he disappeared behind one of the 
 columns, the saloon was entered by Francis 
 and the Cardinal Lorraine, also disguised as 
 Capuchins. 
 
 " Her grace is just passing into the 
 withdrawing-room, reverend fathers," said 
 their conductor, catching sight of Louise 
 through the parted drapery. " Her orders 
 are that I am to leave you here, and you 
 must follow her unattended." 
 
 The Cardinal mechanically advanced, and 
 was espied by the Duchess, who, finding 
 that Esme had not entered the closet, came 
 forth to look for him.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 121 
 
 " I must run for it, I see," said Barnaby, 
 as soon as her back was turned. " Now or 
 never." 
 
 He raised the further drapery, and, step- 
 ping softly out, passed round the columns 
 to the door. Here he cast a look behind, 
 and discovered the Cardinal. 
 
 " What, my master back !" he muttered. 
 "Nay, then, I must not desert him, come 
 what will of it." 
 
 " "Where can the King be 1" murmured 
 the Cardinal, suddenly discovering that 
 Francis had sidled off. " My purpose in 
 approaching you, Madam," he said to 
 Louise, " is to oifer you the best entertain- 
 ment my limited knowledge will afford." 
 
 "And I am certain it is more than you 
 pretend to," replied Louise, preceding him. 
 into the chamber. 
 
 " Ha !" thought the Cardinal, perceiving 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 THE KING AND 
 
 Barnaby behind them : " the King is with 
 ns! I have nothing to fear." 
 
 " Well T "whispered Barnaby. 
 
 "Be on your guard," replied the Car- 
 dinal ; " and remember that it is not easy 
 to deceive your serene mother." 
 
 " Serene bodkin !" said Barnaby. 
 
 " We are now safe from interruption," 
 observed Louise, -who had been engaged for 
 a moment at a small cabinet, from which 
 she took a scroll of paper ; " and you must 
 understand that what I am about to entrust 
 to you is a secret de la masse. You pro- 
 mise me never to divulge it." 
 
 " Be assured, Madam, it shall never pass 
 my lips," replied Barnaby. "As for bro- 
 ther Esmegristus, if it is only worth remem- 
 bering, he is sure to forget it, poor fellow : 
 therefore, I will answer for him, too." 
 
 " You certainly undervalue him," smiled
 
 THE COUNTESS. 123 
 
 Louise. " Well, this horoscope will test his 
 knowledge, and enable me to profit by your 
 proficiency." 
 
 " Humph !" said Barnaby, to whom caba- 
 listic figures were more mysterious than 
 Greek. 
 
 " It has been cast by Cornelius Agrippa," 
 resumed Louise ; " and is said to involve a 
 very singular conjunction, auguring good to 
 the subject, and disaster to others. I must 
 request you to deal plainly with me, and ex- 
 press your sentiments without reservation." 
 
 "Ah ! I see," mused Barnaby, attentively 
 studying the scroll " Yes, there, and there, 
 and there. What think you, brother Esme- 
 gristus 1" 
 
 " I am quite of your opinion," answered 
 the Cardinal. " It is very ominous." 
 
 " Very," said Barnaby, with a dolorous 
 shake of his head. 
 
 02
 
 124 THE KING AND 
 
 " Mars entering Taurus, is in opposition 
 to Mercury/' said the Cardinal. 
 
 " To Mercury T cried Louise. " Is it not 
 Venus r 
 
 " Venus, certainly," cried Barnaby. " Bro- 
 ther Esmegristus, you grow worse and 
 
 worse." 
 
 " I say it is Mercury, brother," said the 
 Prelate, thinking it dangerous to yield. 
 
 " Brother, pr'ythee do not show your 
 ignorance at this rate," said Barnaby. 
 " Think you I do not know Venus when I 
 see her better than you know Mercury. 
 ro to, brother. I repeat, it is Venus." 
 
 ^'And, I fear, you are right, reverend 
 sir," said Louise ; " for you coincide in 
 opinion with Agrippa, and I have rarely 
 found him err. Of course, you have dis- 
 covered who is the subject of the horo- 
 scope T
 
 THE COUNTESS. 125 
 
 " Oh, do not doubt it, Madam," answered 
 Barnaby; "but you may be assured of my 
 secrecy. Even brother Esmegristus shall 
 never know it from me, if he cannot discover 
 it himself." 
 
 " It is the Duke de Bourbon's," said the 
 Cardinal, detecting an inscription in the 
 corner. 
 
 "Hush! hush!" cried the Duchess ; "but 
 who have we here 1" 
 
 The drapery was pushed aside, and a 
 third Capuchin entered the chamber.
 
 126 THE KING AND 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Ill befall 
 
 Such meddling priests, who kindle up confusion. 
 
 HOWE. 
 
 LOWER down the saloon was an ante- 
 room, to which Corinna had retired, in 
 company with the Duchess's other attendant, 
 Anne de Pisselieu, destined at a future time 
 to form a prominent figure in the annals of 
 France. On entering, they were met by 
 Minna, who, however, was so agitated, that 
 she saw only her mistress. 
 
 " Oh ! Madam ! " she exclaimed, in broken 
 accents ; " what can we do ? I fear, he is 
 lost." 
 
 " Lost ! who do you mean ? " cried the 
 ladies together.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 127 
 
 " The English cavalier, Madam. I was 
 prevented from informing you before, that 
 he arranged to come here to-night, just to 
 take leave of your ladyship; and, being 
 unable to obtain admittance otherwise, he 
 and his man were to disguise themselves as 
 Capuchins." 
 
 " Alas ! how could he venture on such a 
 stratagem !" cried Oorinna. " If they inter- 
 cept him, he will incur severe punishment." 
 
 " Is this the gallant who has become the 
 talk of the Court ? " asked Mademoiselle de 
 Pisselieu, eagerly. 
 
 " He will be more talked of to-morrow, 
 my lady," answered Minna; "for they have 
 introduced him to the Duchess as a ma- 
 gician." 
 
 " Say no more, or you will kill me," cried 
 Anne, overcome with laughter. 
 
 " Oh ! he is here !" exclaimed Corinna tre- 
 mulously, as Esme darted into the room.
 
 128 THE KING AND 
 
 "Magic indeed ! " cried Anne, clapping 
 her hands with delight ; " a monk trans- 
 formed into an adventurous cavalier! Good 
 even to you, holy father ! and pray you be 
 of good heart, and I will keep vigil for you 
 without." 
 
 And throwing a long veil over her head, 
 she glided back into the saloon. 
 
 " I owe you an apology, Madam/' said 
 Esme to Corinna, " for waiting upon you in 
 this costume; but it would have been pain- 
 ful for me to leave Rheirns without your 
 commands." 
 
 " You are most kind," answered Corinna, 
 still slightly agitated ; " but how could you 
 expose yourself, for so slight a cause, to so 
 much danger 1 ? I tremble to think what 
 may happen, should you be discovered." 
 
 "Do not fear that. The risk is small; 
 but, were it otherwise, it should not deter 
 me from offering you my services."
 
 THE COUXTESS. 129 
 
 "I am already too much indebted to 
 you," said Oorinna, with a smile of gra- 
 titude, " and glad that there is no necessity 
 to increase the obligation. My father 
 passes Mezieres, on his way to the Em- 
 peror's camp, and intends himself to give 
 the necessary instructions to my retinue." 
 
 "You could not find a messenger more 
 suitable," answered Esme ; " and, though 
 disappointed myself, I am not less pleased 
 at the Count's liberation. No doubt too, 
 he will reach Mezieres before I can." 
 
 " Possibly, not ; for though he set out this 
 morning, his shattered health will compel 
 him to travel very slowly. I am the more 
 unhappy at being separated from him under 
 such circumstances." 
 
 "It must be most painful for you, but 
 your captivity will probably be of short 
 duration. I shall not find you here, if 
 I ever return to Rheims." 
 
 G3
 
 130 THE KING AND 
 
 There was a touch of melancholy in the 
 Englishman's tone, as he thus spoke, that 
 Corinna could not but notice. 
 
 " You speak as though your return were 
 doubtful," she said. " Is it so "? " 
 
 "A soldier going against the enemy can- 
 not answer for his destination, you know," 
 returned Esme, with affected gaiety. " Be- 
 sides, my engagement with the King of 
 France terminates, as soon as Mezieres is 
 relieved ; and it is unlikely that I shall 
 renew it." 
 
 "Then I see you for the last time?" said 
 Corinna, unconsciously dropping a rose, 
 which she had held in her hand. 
 
 "Fortune cannot mean thus cruelly by 
 me!" cried Esme, despondingly. "I will 
 not must not think so ! " Checking himself, 
 with some confusion, he added, as he 
 picked up the fallen rose, "Have you 
 thrown this fair flower away, Madam 1 In
 
 THE COUNTESS. 131 
 
 that case, I would beg permission to retain it, 
 though it is, I see, the emblem of my foes." 
 
 "Of jour foes?" said Corinna, changing 
 colour. " Oh ! I remember now. It is the 
 badge of the English House of Lancaster ; 
 and you, no doubt, are for York ?" 
 
 " Else I should not be here. For York my 
 father died, and I have become a wanderer." 
 
 " How sad ! " exclaimed Corinna, in tones 
 of deep sympathy. " And would you take 
 an enemy's colour from me, whom you have 
 so obliged?" 
 
 "It will remind me only of you," said 
 Esme gallantly ; " and therefore can recall 
 no memories but what are pleasing." 
 
 This dialogue would not have proceeded 
 so far, only for the precaution of Anne de 
 Pisselieu, who, in stepping into the saloon, en- 
 countered the King, disguised as a Capuchin. 
 
 " Benedicite, my daughter!" he cried. 
 " Shall I confess you to-night ? "
 
 132 THE KING AND 
 
 " It is the King ! " thought Anne, recog- 
 nising his voice. And she said demurely, 
 " I have nothing to confess, father." 
 
 "Fye, fye!" rejoined Francis. "None 
 of us are free from fault, child ; and, least of 
 all, an attendant of the Court. Look into 
 your heart then, and speak unreservedly ; 
 for, being myself a sinner, I can make 
 allowance for the frailty of others." 
 
 " This is most considerate, Reverend Sir ; 
 and were my conscience troubled, would 
 embolden me to seek consolation of you ; 
 but, alas ! good father, there is no more 
 chance of doing ill here, under the eye of 
 my mistress, than if I were cooped up in 
 a convent." 
 
 "From your words, daughter, it seems 
 that you would transgress if opportunity 
 permitted, and positively regret the want of 
 it. Let me tell you that the thought is as 
 bad as the deed."
 
 THE COUNTESS. 133 
 
 "Is it possible?' 
 
 " Be assured it is so." 
 
 " Then I am the most wretched of wo- 
 men !" exclaimed Anne, in accents of despair. 
 
 "How !" cried Francis. "What can you 
 have done ? But, be your offence what it 
 may" here he took her hand, but in so 
 paternal a manner, that Anne suffered him 
 to retain it "there is not the smallest 
 occasion for dejection. The Church is for- 
 giving, and if I understand you right, your 
 transgression is only mental V 
 
 " That is all, father." 
 
 " Just so," said Francis, in his most in- 
 sinuating tone. " You have been thinking, 
 too fondly, mayhap, of some idle gallant 1" 
 
 " Worse, worse, father 1" 
 
 " Worse?' 
 
 " Yes, I have been thinking of the King 
 himself." 
 
 " Of the King 1 Well, well, this is not
 
 134 THE KING AND 
 
 such a bad matter, after all. We are bound 
 to look kindly on the King ; and it is not 
 strange that a young maid, innocently- 
 minded, should view him, mayhap, too par- 
 tially, though it is said for I pretend not 
 to judge myself that he is likely enough 
 to win a lady's favour." 
 
 " Ah ! my father !" 
 
 " Take courage, child." 
 
 " This is not it." 
 
 "No V 
 
 " No ! for my mind is so perverse, I can- 
 not see our good King's perfections ; and 
 to me he appears a very indifferent-looking 
 man." 
 
 " My child, have you lost your eyes ?" 
 
 " And as for his boasted wit, I find him 
 a very dullard." 
 
 " This of the King?" 
 
 " He is already growing grey, and will 
 soon be as fat as a friar."
 
 THE COUNTESS. 135 
 
 " Daughter ! daughter !" 
 
 " They say, too, he prowls about in dis- 
 guise, listening to what people report of 
 him, so that one is, as it were, always in his 
 clutches." 
 
 " My daughter, it is clear that you have 
 never seen the King, and that some one 
 has fabricated these aspersions to mislead 
 you. Believe me, his highness is a very 
 different person from what you imagine, as, 
 if your beauty equals your vivacity, he will 
 but too soon give you occasion to know." 
 
 " It is you, father, who do not know him, 
 as your observations clearly testify. The 
 King look at me ! Have you not heard 
 that he thinks no man handsome but him- 
 self, and no woman beautiful but Madame 
 de Chateaubriant ?" 
 
 " And you, I suppose, think Madame's 
 charms inferior to your own ? Ah ! 
 daughter, I must warn you against the
 
 136 THE KING AND 
 
 delusions of vanity, which so often prove a 
 pitfall to woman, and may now be blinding 
 you. I will not say that it is so, as your 
 veil prevents my judging. Remove it, and 
 I will frankly tell you my opinion." 
 
 " Declare it, then !" cried Anne, throwing 
 off her veil. 
 
 "Most beautiful!" cried Francis, in ad- 
 miration, " One word from those lips would 
 make me your slave !" 
 
 "Ha! ha! a pretty priest!" laughed the 
 Maid of Honour, as she sprang towards an 
 opposite door, and darted out of the saloon. 
 
 As Francis, somewhat disconcerted, was 
 turning round the nearest column, he ran 
 against Bsme, who had just stolen forth 
 from the ante-chamber. 
 
 " Can this be you, Cardinal V 9 cried the 
 monarch. "Ha! a stranger! speak, Sir, I 
 command you !" 
 
 " The King !" cried Esme. And, sinking
 
 THE COUNTESS. 137 
 
 on his knee, he added, " Your pardon, my 
 liege. I am no Churchman, but the Che- 
 valier Bayard's orderly, Esme Noel." 
 
 " I understand," said Francis, good- 
 naturedly. " You came here to visit the 
 Lady Mirandola, to whom you have been 
 playing the faithful esquire. Well, well, in 
 consideration of your good service, I shall 
 not betray you ; but mark me ! there must 
 be no more of these adventures. Now, 
 begone." 
 
 Leaving Esme to retire, he raised the 
 drapery of the state ante-room, and pre- 
 sented himself before the Duchess and her 
 companions. 
 
 " I am your grace's poor beadsman," he 
 said, in a feigned voice, replying to Louise's 
 interrogation "Friar Barnabas, the astro- 
 loger." 
 
 " Audacious !" exclaimed Cardinal Lor- 
 raine. " Friar Barnabas is here !"
 
 138 THE KING AND 
 
 " Where T returned Francis, looking al- 
 ternately at the Cardinal and Barnaby. 
 " Out upon you, you wolves in sheep's 
 clothing ! You, astrologers 1" 
 
 " What does this mean V cried Louise, 
 amazed. 
 
 " It means, gracious Madam, that you 
 are imposed upon," said Francis. " These 
 men are neither astrologers nor friars ; and 
 one, I am sure, is more used to a robe of 
 scarlet than a shirt of hair." 
 
 " Avaunt, fiend !" retorted the Cardinal, 
 in a faltering voice. " With these holy beads 
 I defy thee 1" 
 
 " A Capuchin with a gold rosary !" cried 
 Francis. " This is wonder upon wonder. 
 But command him to disclose his face, 
 Madam ; and you will find it no strange 
 one. See, my charms work upon him. Jean 
 de Lorraine, throw back your cowl !" 
 
 " Speak to him, my liege," said the Car-
 
 THE COUNTESS. 139 
 
 dinal : but Barnabj, whose help he invoked, 
 had vanished. 
 
 " If you would disprove this good man's 
 words, Sir," said Louise, angrily, " doff your 
 cowl." 
 
 " The King shall answer for me, gracious 
 Madam," replied the Cardinal. " He is in 
 the saloon, and I will request his attend- 
 ance. May our Lady guard you !" And 
 he made a precipitate retreat from the 
 room. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha !" laughed Francis, throw- 
 ing off his cowl. " Your grace must forgive 
 my frolic, though it has been partly at your 
 expense. I have avenged you on the Car- 
 dinal, who was the designer of it, and now 
 his presumption must be forgotten. Ha! 
 ha! I believe he set me down for the 
 arch-fiend himself." 
 
 " Your jests are beyond endurance, Sir," 
 returned the Duchess. " I think you might
 
 140 THE KING AND 
 
 break them on some more suitable person 
 than your parent." 
 
 " Nay, my mother, do not be offended. 
 It was not you, but your fair hostage, whom 
 we intended to surprise, but, I believe, she 
 has out-manoeuvred us. There, I see, you 
 pardon me ; and now let me lead you to 
 your closet; for I have something of mo- 
 ment to impart to you." 
 
 Louise suffered him to take her hand, and 
 he conducted her from the room.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 141 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Angel of death ! 'tis Hassan's cloven crest ! 
 
 BYRON. 
 
 IN a chamber of the castle of Mezieres 
 sat the Chevalier Bayard, resting on his 
 hand a pale and wasted cheek, too plainly 
 expressive of suffering. It was many hours 
 since he had tasted food ; continual watch- 
 ing had inflamed his eyes; strength and 
 hope were both wavering ; but his devotion 
 to France was unshaken. His first and last 
 thought were for her. 
 
 " The sally-party has assembled/' said 
 Montmorenci, entering ; " but you will pro- 
 bably alter their destination; for the enemy 
 seems preparing to storm the breach."
 
 142 THE KING AND 
 
 " It is ready for them," replied Bayard. 
 "You will be able to hold it for another day." 
 
 " I ? Am I not to command the sortie 1" 
 
 " No ! your country imposes on you a 
 harder duty that which Leonidas rendered 
 Sparta. If succours do not arrive to-morrow, 
 you must perish in the breach." 
 
 " And you V 
 
 " I go with the sortie." 
 
 " Never to return," said Montmorenci. 
 " My friend my brother, can you do me 
 this wrong 1" 
 
 " Ma foil" replied Bayard, shrugging his 
 shoulders, " what would you have I I shall 
 die only a few hours before you." 
 
 " What may not happen in those few 
 hours ! "When death stares us in the face, 
 they are years. They may be your preser- 
 vation. Besides, this command is my right ; 
 and to take it on yourself, is to degrade me." 
 
 " Not when I bequeath you a post so
 
 THE COUNTESS. 143 
 
 honourable : therefore, say no more, as my 
 resolution is fixed. Hark \" 
 
 "It is the cannonade," said Montmorenci. 
 
 " Well, we know our duty !" replied Ba- 
 yard. "Adieu!" And the two friends 
 embraced. 
 
 Montmorenci repaired to the breach, now 
 assailed by the enemy's guns, covering a 
 column of stormers, who advanced unmo- 
 lested as far as the moat. Here, however, 
 they were swept by a cross fire from the 
 ramparts, directed with such precision that 
 every ball seemed to tell ; and Bayard, 
 dashing out of the sally-port, attacked their 
 rear, causing instant confusion. Many were 
 killed, or disabled, in the onslaught ; but 
 being all picked men, and emboldened by 
 their superior numbers, the main body ral- 
 lied, and continued the conflict. This was 
 of the most desperate character, and main- 
 tained on both sides with the utmost ardour.
 
 144 THE KING AND 
 
 The French, especially, though a mere hand- 
 ful, fought like giants ; and Bayard flew 
 from file to file, stimulating, by his presence 
 and example, the courage of all. But 
 wherever a momentary advantage was 
 gained, and the Imperialists driven back, 
 fresh forces appeared, and renewed the 
 combat, while every moment diminished the 
 numbers of the French. Thus, in a short 
 time, half the enemy's army were on the 
 spot, commanded by the General in person, 
 the Count of Nassau. 
 
 " Surrender, Chevalier !" he cried, con- 
 fronting Bayard. "You have done enough!" 
 
 " Never shall you take me alive," an- 
 swered the good Knight. " Courage, my 
 hearts ! courage !" 
 
 " Then, you must die !" shouted Nassau. 
 
 Bayard, though scarcely able to keep his 
 saddle, met him manfully, and, by a dex- 
 trous blow, struck the sword from his hand.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 145 
 
 A dozen weapons rose in its place, and a 
 trooper seized his horse, cutting him off 
 from assistance, while his broken ranks, no 
 longer animated by their General, were as- 
 sailed with new vigour. All seemed lost, 
 when a tremendous shout, rising above the 
 din of the fray, echoed the proud watch- 
 word of " France ! France ! a Bourbon !" 
 
 The effect was electric. Both French 
 and Imperialists caught up the cry, and on 
 every side was heard that victorious name, 
 mingled with a murmur of " He comes !" 
 
 Bourbon and his men-at-arms alighted on 
 the spot like an avalanche, driving the com- 
 batants into one promiscuous mass. The 
 Imperialists fled so precipitately, that in 
 their retreat, Bayard and his soldiers were 
 swept along with them ; and the good 
 Knight remained in as much danger as be- 
 fore. He was extricated by Esine Noel, 
 who was among the foremost of Bourbon's 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 THE KING AND 
 
 followers, and had quickly espied his old 
 commander. A furious charge was then 
 made on the flying Imperialists, which again 
 carried Esme away, and he was soon side 
 by side with Bourbon. A bugle in the rear, 
 sounding the recall, caused them to rein up. 
 
 " Can you see who they are V cried 
 Bourbon, looking towards a small body of 
 horsemen, who were galloping round the 
 front of the castle. 
 
 " It is the King, my Lord," answered 
 Esme ; " I can distinguish the oriflamb." 
 
 In fact, it was now clear that one of the 
 party bore aloft the three-tailed banner of 
 flaming silk, called the oriflamb of St. Denis, 
 which is said to have fallen from Heaven, 
 and was only carried before the sovereign. 
 
 " He must be obeyed/' said Bourbon. 
 "Recall! recall!" 
 
 The bugle, repeating his order, brought 
 up Bayard.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 147 
 
 " How am I to make my acknowledg- 
 ments to you, my lord 1" he cried. " It is 
 little to preserve my life, but you have once 
 more saved France." 
 
 "It is to you, my comrade, that our 
 country owes her safety/' replied Bourbon, 
 grasping his hand. " If this advantage 
 were followed up, we should rid her of these 
 invaders." 
 
 " Then why did you order a recall ?" 
 
 " It was sounded by the King, not me. 
 But look ! is not the enemy forming for 
 battle r 
 
 " Decidedly," said Bayard, perceiving that 
 numerous columns were occupying the ground 
 before the river. 
 
 "He has discovered that our army is close 
 behind me," answered Bourbon ; " and yon- 
 der they come." 
 
 " Yes," cried Bayard, joyously, as dense 
 bodies of men began to deploy over the 
 
 H 2
 
 148 THE KING AND 
 
 plain, on the flank of the town. " There 
 they are ! The invasion is over." 
 
 Here Francis galloped up, attended by 
 his staff. " "We must not push forward so 
 fast, my Lord Constable," he said tartly. 
 " Our forced marches have exhausted the 
 troops, and they must have rest. Ha ! my 
 Chevalier ! I joy to see you again. It is 
 a good, good day's work to place you in 
 safety/ 1 
 
 " I thank you, Sire," answered Bayard ; 
 " but it will be a nobler one to destroy the 
 enemy. If we do not press on at once, the 
 favorable moment will be lost." 
 
 "We must recover it to-morrow, then," 
 replied Francis ; " and Alenyon shall begin 
 the attack with the vanguard at day-break." 
 
 " I ask leave to remind you, Sire, that, 
 as Constable of France, I alone can claim 
 <the privilege of leading the vanguard," said 
 Bourbon.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 149 
 
 " It seems to be your privilege to claim 
 everything, mon frere" replied Francis. 
 "However, for once, you must give way, 
 for I am under a pledge to Alen^on, and 
 will not break it. Come, let us to the 
 castle." 
 
 All followed as he rode off, with the ex- 
 ception of Bourbon, who remained sta- 
 tionary. 
 
 " Mon frere ! mon frere !" he said, 
 half aloud. "Nay, Sir King, we have 
 done with that ; and I know your terms of 
 love too well to trust them. But spur not 
 too hard, or you may be thrown." 
 
 "My lord/' cried Esme riding up, "I 
 think the enemy is preparing to retreat." 
 
 "You are right," answered Bourbon, 
 casting his eye over the hostile camp ; 
 "but as the King will not engage till to- 
 morrow, they must go, if they will. Mean- 
 while, tell me whether I can do aught for
 
 150 THE KING AND 
 
 your advantage, for I owe you some acknow- 
 ledgment. I would I could keep you among 
 my own retainers." 
 
 " If so, my lord, consider that you have 
 enrolled me, for my service with the King 
 has ceased, and I desire nothing so much as 
 to enter yours." 
 
 "Then we are agreed," said Bourbon. 
 "No more now, but rest to-night in my 
 quarter." 
 
 Night set in before the several divisions 
 of the French army could effect a junction. 
 They were then ordered to bivouac on the 
 ground, in which course, judging from nu- 
 merous watch-fires, they were imitated by 
 the enemy, though Bourbon remained of 
 opinion that Nassau intended to retire. 
 
 Next morning Francis rose with the dawn, 
 after sleeping in the open air, and was soon 
 surrounded by the principal officers, report- 
 ing the mortifying intelligence that Nassau
 
 THE COUNTESS. 151 
 
 had effected a retreat, and with such adroit- 
 ness that hardly a vestige of his camp 
 remained. As the King was giving orders 
 for a pursuit, a courier approached and pre- 
 sented him with a sealed packet. 
 
 "This is sad tidings," he said gravely, 
 after perusing it : " but what we have long 
 expected. The Queen is dead !" 
 
 Exclamations of sympathy broke from the 
 persons around, and more than one mur- 
 mured a prayer for the good Queen's soul. 
 
 "You, too, seem to have heavy news, 
 cousin," said Francis to Bourbon, " for your 
 black look imports as much." 
 
 "Your highness reads it aright," an- 
 swered Bourbon. " You and France have 
 lost a Queen, and I am threatened with the 
 loss of my duchy. Your serene mother has 
 discovered that it belongs not to me, but to 
 her." 
 
 And, regardless of the muttered wonder
 
 152 THE KING AND THE COUNTESS. 
 
 his vords elicited from the circle around, he 
 turned a disdainful glance on Francis, and 
 strode away. A few rapid steps brought 
 him to Esme. 
 
 " Now, to horse !" he said. " Make all 
 haste to Paris, and give this ring, as a token, 
 to my Secretary Lurcy. Tell him 'THE 
 
 TIME HAS COME !' " 
 
 END OF THE FIRST BOOK.
 
 tfje 
 
 MIGHT AGAINST RIGHT. 
 
 H 3
 
 THE KING AND THE COUNTESS. 155 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Love bears within its breast the very germ 
 Of change ; and how should this be otherwise ? 
 
 That violent things more quickly find a term 
 Is shown through nature's whole analogies : 
 
 And how should the most fierce of all be fixed ? 
 
 No sooner had Francis and his army 
 quitted Rheims, than the Duchess d'Angou- 
 leme repaired to Paris, and fixed her abode 
 at the Louvre. 
 
 A few weeks had elapsed, and Louise was 
 seated, one morning, in a chamber of the 
 palace, at a little distance from a recess 
 formed by a window, in which sat Corinna 
 and Mademoiselle de Pisselieu, with another 
 maid of honour, named Adele Brissac.
 
 156 THE KING AST) 
 
 Louise was conversing in low but earnest 
 tones with her daughter, Marguerite de 
 Valois, Duchess of Alencon, but better 
 known to posterity by a later title. 
 
 In person, Marguerite was a brilliant re- 
 flection of Louise. Her beauty, however, 
 was of a softer, as well as higher character ; 
 and full, dark eyes, at once tender and ani- 
 mated, rendered the expression and general 
 
 
 
 effect of her face more feminine. So fault- 
 less was her form, that she had acquired the 
 name of the Fourth Grace ; and a mind 
 harmonizing with these charms, and mirrored 
 in many productions of its own, won her the 
 appellation of the Tenth Muse. To rare en- 
 dowments she united the most amiable and 
 engaging qualities. In an age of universal 
 license, her conduct was irreproachable ; and 
 she forsook the pleasures and gaiety of the 
 Court for the society of learned men, en- 
 couraging them as much by this distinction
 
 THE COUNTESS. 157 
 
 as by her munificent bounty. Imbued with 
 profound sentiments of religion, her piety 
 was never obtrusive, but was seen chiefly in 
 that divine trait which " covers a multitude 
 of sins ;" and, though an orthodox Catholic, 
 she frequently encountered personal hazard 
 to protect the advocates of the Reformed 
 Faith, at this time exposed to fearful perse- 
 cution. She saw no attraction in power, 
 except as a means of doing good ; and her 
 unbounded influence over Francis was exer- 
 cised only for the relief of the oppressed, 
 and the advantage of her country. 
 
 " It is not of the poor Queen I would 
 speak, Madam," she said, in reply to an ob- 
 servation from Louise ; " but an affair of 
 greater urgency a painful one to me ; and 
 not less so, I am sure, to you." 
 
 " In that case, I must beg you not to 
 breach it," said Louise, coldly ; " I am 
 sufficiently harassed already."
 
 158 THE KING AND 
 
 " Were I silent, Madam, you could not 
 remain long ignorant of what is the talk of 
 all Paris. Nor dare I look on, and hear 
 and see what passes, without warning my 
 loved mother of the dangers around us." 
 
 " You allude to the thousand-and-one 
 reports about Bourbon, I suppose ? Is it 
 possible, Marguerite, that such idle things 
 can alarm you t" 
 
 " True or false, they show the subject of 
 all men's thoughts, and therefore cannot be 
 termed idle, especially as they refer to such 
 eminent persons as yourself and the Con- 
 stable. Duty constrains me to tell you, the 
 claim you assert to the Duchy of Bourbon 
 is denounced in the public streets by people 
 of every condition ; and that, wliile your 
 name is coupled with severe reflections, the 
 wildest schemes of vengeance are attributed 
 to the Duke. These, my mother, are not 
 matters to be despised."
 
 THE COUNTESS. 159 
 
 " Do you mean his vengeance, or the 
 public scandal 1" said Louise, carelessly. 
 
 " Both ; but, waving the last, think what 
 peril we incur in making so wide a breach 
 between him and the King. The removal 
 of such a pillar may endanger the throne." 
 
 " You greatly overrate his power. It 
 depends chiefly on the Barons ; and the 
 clamour he raised against their rights of 
 seignory has estranged them from him. A 
 few, indeed, from mere habit, still cling to 
 him ; but, as soon as we can produce evi- 
 dence of his designs, they too will come over 
 to us." 
 
 " You are speaking only of courtiers, who 
 would abandon the King, if the tide turned, 
 as readily as they have him. He has power- 
 ful Barons for vassals, bound to him both by 
 interest and affection. These you will never 
 bring over." 
 
 " But they are known, and watched so
 
 160 THE KING AND 
 
 close, that the Government is informed of 
 their lightest action. We are even aware 
 that, some weeks ago, he dispatched a mes- 
 senger from the army, to assemble his prin- 
 cipal friends in Paris ; and, from the diffi- 
 culties thrown in the way, they have not 
 yet been able to reach it. Judge, then, if 
 there is any ground for uneasiness." 
 
 "I cannot deny that your precautions 
 are wise ; but they will prove ineffective. 
 Bourbon is no ordinary antagonist, and, 
 however his resources are curtailed, remains 
 formidable. In the Commons alone lie pos- 
 sesses a host. He has many adherents in 
 the army, exclusive of personal followers, 
 forming the flower of the troops. In a word, 
 he can at any time raise a revolt at home, 
 while the King is engaged in foreign war." 
 
 " That danger, too, has been foreseen, my 
 prudent Marguerite," said Louise with a 
 complacent smile. " Intelligence has arrived,
 
 THE COUNTESS. 161 
 
 that the armistice I told you of was con- 
 cluded yesterday ; and the King is expected 
 in Paris before night. He will then treat 
 with the Emperor's commissioners for a per- 
 manent peace." 
 
 " What you tell me, Madam, may defer 
 the collision ; but, be assured, there is only 
 one way of avoiding it. Justice points out 
 the course to be pursued, when your claim 
 has so long slept ; and gratitude impels me 
 to intercede with you for Bourbon. Know- 
 ing how I differ with you, I approach 
 the subject with reluctance ; but the 
 great services he has rendered France 
 the obligations he has imposed on the King 
 his attachment to the Crown, and his 
 noble character demand from, me this con- 
 sideration. I trust, my appeal will not be 
 made in vain." 
 
 " You are a child," cried Louise angrily. 
 " Were all you say true, his services have
 
 162 THE KING AND 
 
 been liberally, even munificiently rewarded. 
 Would yon have me forego my revenge 1 " 
 
 " Yes. It is a passion unworthy of my 
 gracious mother." 
 
 "It is life to me hope, everything!" 
 exclaimed Louise vehemently. " No ; I will 
 not forego it. Rather would I pour out my 
 heart's blood ! And you would abandon 
 the duchy, too, my right and inheritance, 
 as certified by the ablest lawyer in France." 
 
 "By the judge who decides the cause, 
 you mean, Madam/' said Marguerite, mourn- 
 fully. " Alas ! is this justice 1 " 
 
 " You had better appear in court as his 
 advocate," cried Louise, with a furious 
 glance. " If scandal speak true, you would 
 have wished to be his wife." 
 
 Marguerite's face was suffused with a 
 deep blush, in which anger mingled with 
 shame, but filial love forbade retort. 
 
 " I entertain no sentiments towards him
 
 THE COUNTESS. 163 
 
 that do not become me," she said. " As a 
 child of France I must venerate her soldier ; 
 and leave jour grace to consider whether 
 I have spoken unreasonably." 
 
 Louise suffered her to retire without 
 reply ; and for a few minutes remained lost 
 in reflection. Arousing herself, she sum- 
 moned Corinna. 
 
 " Padre Stephano has informed you, I 
 suppose, that you are no longer a captive," 
 she said, as the fair hostage presented herself. 
 
 "He has, Madam/' answered Oorinna, 
 " but was unable to tell me any particulars, 
 and I am afraid from this unexpected occur- 
 rence, that my father's illness has increased." 
 
 " Do not alarm yourself on that account. 
 You owe your emancipation to a more 
 agreeable circumstance, though, I may men- 
 tion privately, you only exchange one bon- 
 dage for another." 
 
 Corinna looked perplexed.
 
 164 THE KING AND 
 
 "You do not understand me," pursued 
 Louise, in her most insinuating tones. " Tell 
 me," and she fixed a searching glance on 
 the young girl " is there no cavalier whom 
 you have thought of endowing with your 
 heart 1 the treasure our sex so often 
 barter for misery and neglect!" 
 
 " None, Madam," replied Corinna, covered 
 with blushes. 
 
 " Are you sure ? " cried Louise, in sur- 
 
 * 
 prise and with marked emphasis. "Do 
 
 you answer me frankly ? " 
 
 "Believe me, Madam, I do," said 
 Corinna. 
 
 " I am rejoiced to hear it ; for I appre- 
 hended from the rumours abroad, that you 
 entertained a partiality for one you have 
 met in France a needy adventurer, named 
 Noel." 
 
 " Is it possible such a thing could be 
 reported \ " asked Corinna.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 165 
 
 " It is mere Court gossip, and, now that 
 I know the truth, it shall be effectually con- 
 tradicted. Nay, compose yourself. The 
 affair is too ridiculous to be treated 
 seriously, and should rather excite your 
 mirth. It probably originated with Noel 
 himself, but his fine dreams will soon come 
 to an end. He is now engaged in a plot 
 against tie King, which will assuredly bring 
 him to the scaffold." 
 
 An expression of dismay rose to Co- 
 rinna's lips, but the flashing eye of Louise 
 prevented its utterance. 
 
 "Enough of him!" she resumed. "Do 
 you feel no curiosity respecting the engage- 
 ment you are about to enter \ " 
 
 "I have not clearly understood your 
 grace," answered Corinna. 
 
 " Certainly, I appear to have completely 
 mystified you," smiled the Duchess, "yet 
 my tidings may be made plain enough.
 
 166 THE KING AND 
 
 Your father's ransom has been paid ; and 
 your kinsman, Count Strozzi, may be 
 expected here every hour, to convey you to 
 Madrid. Arrived there, he is to be 
 rewarded with your hand." 
 
 Corinna changed colour, but made no 
 remark. 
 
 " This news has discomposed you, I see," 
 resumed Louise more kindly. " Take a 
 stroll on the terrace, and recover yourself. 
 The maitre d' hotel shall see everything 
 arranged for your departure." 
 
 It was with faltering steps that Corinna 
 reached the garden, a prey to the most de- 
 pressing thoughts. The prospect of a union 
 with Strozzi made her sensible, for the first 
 time, that she was not indifferent to Esme, 
 and thus rendered her situation more com- 
 pletely miserable. But, though the Count 
 appeared every moment more odious, duty 
 and principle alike opposed her growing
 
 THE COUNTESS. 167 
 
 preference for the Englishman. It was not 
 till after a severe struggle that they tri- 
 umphed. 
 
 Full ^f sad forebodings, she entered a 
 grove of tall and umbrageous limes, when 
 she suddenly encountered the King, who 
 with a contempt for display habitual to him, 
 had come unattended from the camp, and, 
 alighting at a private postern, was proceed- 
 ing across the gardens to the palace. 
 
 " Ah ! my Lady Mirandola !" he cried, 
 " I am fortunate to meet you alone. It was 
 to see you that I have hastened to Paris." 
 
 " Indeed, Sire," murmured Comma in 
 accents of alarm, for she had been much 
 harassed by his gallantries. 
 
 " Yes, I have thought of you often since 
 I saw you last, when your cruelty drove 
 me distracted. You remember, I could 
 not prevail on you to share even one 
 coranto."
 
 168 THE KING AND 
 
 " I was much pained that I could not obey 
 your commands, Sire ; and, therefore, felt as- 
 sured that you would graciously excuse me." 
 
 " Ah ! why say commands, when niy 
 earnest entreaties were refused ? But I 
 come not to reproach, but to sue. This 
 time, I trust, my request will be granted." 
 
 "My liege!" 
 
 "Wherefore so pale, dearest Lady 1 Yet 
 I could wish your cheeks were always thus, 
 had I never seen them blooming : then their 
 loveliness is transcendant!" 
 
 " These compliments distress me, Sire ; 
 I am sure, therefore, you will not continue 
 them." 
 
 " Inexorable beauty ! But I will no 
 longer offer homage which you scorn. It 
 shall remain buried in my heart, enslaved 
 by your charms, and robbed by you of its 
 cheerfulness. Yet hear my last request : 
 you must not deny me that."
 
 THE COUNTESS. 169 
 
 Corinna turned a supplicating glance 
 upon him, but instantly dropped her eyes, 
 and was silent. 
 
 " Now, you are relenting, I hope," con- 
 tinued Francis, " and the moment may be 
 farorable to my suit; but do not suppose 
 that it is so momentous at least to you, for 
 I confess it is of much importance to myself." 
 
 " Your highness may command me in 
 all things, as far as my poor ability ex- 
 tends," said Corinna, without looking up. 
 
 " Then I beg you to remain in Paris a 
 few weeks longer. You have hitherto seen 
 it at disadvantage the Court in mourning, 
 and myself continually absent. For the 
 future, I promise one round of diversions 
 and revels." 
 
 "You are most generous, Sire, but you 
 ask what it is not in my power to grant. 
 My heart is at the bed side of my father, 
 and there alone I can be happy." 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 THE KING AND 
 
 "Do you refuse my invitation my en- 
 treaty ?" 
 
 "Pardon me, my liege," said Corinna 
 imploringly. " I dare not neglect the sum- 
 mons of my father, were it ever so unwel- 
 come. I should be even now preparing 
 to depart, and so take my leave of your 
 highness." 
 
 "Not yet! not yet, dear lady!" said 
 Francis, and, unexpectedly seizing her arm, 
 she was surprised into a cry. 
 
 A footstep was heard, and they were con- 
 fronted by Esme. 
 
 " Ha !" exclaimed Francis, affecting not 
 to recognise him ; " who is this 1 How 
 dare you, Sir, enter the private gardens 
 of the palace I Begone !" and he half drew 
 his sword. 
 
 Esine's heightened colour foreboded a 
 retort, but he checked himself. 
 
 " I obey your highness," he said. " You,
 
 THE COUSTESS. 171 
 
 Madam, have nothing to fear, as the Duchess 
 of Alengon, I perceive, is approaching." 
 
 " Marguerite !" muttered Francis, dis- 
 cerning her in the vista. "You shall answer 
 for this insolence another time, Sir." And, 
 turning into the opposite walk, the trees hid 
 him from view, though not before he had 
 been espied bj his sister. 
 
 "Oh! fly," said Corinna to Esme, "or 
 you are lost. I see the Duchess is followed 
 by her mother, and my kinsman, Strozzi." 
 
 " It is too late," answered Esme ; " they 
 are here." 
 
 The words were scarcely spoken, when 
 Louise stepped up. 
 
 ""What man is this, Madam 1 ?" she de- 
 manded of Corinna. " But I need not ask. 
 You have dissembled with me, and are here 
 to meet the traitor, Noel." 
 
 "Noel!" exclaimed Strozzi, glaring fiercely 
 at the Englishman. "Leave him to me, 
 
 12
 
 172 THE KING AND 
 
 your grace. I will call the guard, and have 
 him secured." 
 
 " Forbear, Sir," said Marguerite. " This 
 cavalier," and she exchanged a rapid look 
 with Esme, " is not the traitor you take him 
 for, but one for whom I will be responsible. 
 Say, Rowland, what has happened, for, 
 unless I mistake, some one called for help V 
 
 " It was so, Madam," said Corinna, ti- 
 morously. "I was seized with a sudden 
 alarm, which I could not resist, but am now 
 ashamed of." 
 
 " And the cry brought this gentleman to 
 your assistance 1" smiled Marguerite. "Ay, 
 ay. There needs no further explanation. 
 You may retire now, Rowland." 
 
 .Stealing a glance at Corinna, Esme hurried 
 away, and, making for the gate by which he 
 had obtained admission, through the favor 
 of an old comrade, who was captain of the 
 guard, effected his escape from the gardens.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 173 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 I gave myself over for a dead man, seeing the 
 horrid fright the necromancer was in. The boy 
 placed his head between his knees, and said, " In 
 this posture will I die; for we shall all surely perish." 
 I told him that all those demons were under us, and 
 what he saw was smoke and shadow. 
 
 BEXYENUTO CELLINI. 
 
 IN a turret of the Louvre, converted by 
 the Duchess d'Angouleme into an observa- 
 tory, the glimmering light of a lamp fell on 
 a venerable-looking man, having a worn and 
 pallid countenance, from which a long white 
 beard descended to his bosom. He was 
 strangely attired, in a black robe, girded by 
 a zone of silk, wrought with hieroglyphics ; 
 and an amulet, enclosing a sacred relique, 
 hung by a chain of gold from his neck. His
 
 174 THE KING AND 
 
 lofty forehead leant on a thin, bony hand, 
 and his elbow was resting on a black book, 
 of remarkably antique appearance, and 
 clasped with iron, of which it was currently 
 reported, among the credulous, that the 
 leaves were formed of dead men's skin, in- 
 scribed with characters of blood. 
 
 The table was covered with a confused 
 array of telescopes, crucibles, cylinders, and 
 other chemical and astronomical instruments, 
 mingled with cabalistic parchments, and 
 rare manuscripts, containing secrets which 
 the art of Caxton was never to divulge. 
 Nor was the chamber deficient in more 
 startling features. Odious reptiles were ex- 
 posed to view, swimming in huge bottles ; 
 and a stuffed serpent was twisted along the 
 floor, having the semblance of life. Oppo- 
 site was a skeleton, holding in its grisly 
 hand a javelin ; and behind the astrologer's 
 seat, curtains veiled a necromantic mirror
 
 THE COUNTESS. 175 
 
 a favorite agent of the reigning Magi, who, 
 by long practice, had brought their art to 
 amazing perfection, insomuch that it would 
 be impossible to credit the relations handed 
 down, of the feats they performed, though 
 resting on otherwise unquestionable autho- 
 rity, if modern science had not made known 
 the mysteries of natural magic, then heigh- 
 tened by the marvellous aids of ventrilo- 
 quism, optic illusion, and every kind of 
 jugglery. 
 
 The old man was apparently absorbed in 
 reading a manuscript, spread out before him, 
 when the Duchess d'Angouleme entered, 
 and, supposing herself unobserved, regarded 
 him for some moments in silence. 
 
 " My daughter," cried the Astrologer, at 
 length, without raising his eyes, " what seek 
 you r 
 
 Louise started. 
 
 " I am in trouble, Agrippa," she said.
 
 176 THE KING AND 
 
 " Your predictions daunt me ; and I come 
 to ask if you may not, by some inadvertence, 
 hare been led into error." 
 
 " Impossible," replied Cornelius Agrippa. 
 " Surely, you must be sensible from the 
 past, that my calculations never err." 
 
 " It is tine. But admitting your skill 
 which, indeed, I cannot doubt you may in 
 this case, wish to deceive me." 
 
 " Am I an impostor, or a hireling, that 
 I should fabricate lies 1" cried Agrippa, with 
 warmth. " Am I wont to pervert the noble 
 art I profess to such base and sordid pur- 
 poses "? See, my daughter, how unjust are 
 your suspicions, springing from the corrup- 
 tion of our self-willed nature, so bent on 
 its own inclinations, that the warnings of 
 Heaven itself appear interested !" 
 
 " Not so. Heaven seems to sanction my 
 cause ; for everything invites me to pursue 
 it. You alone urge me to desist."
 
 THE COUNTESS. 177 
 
 " I !" exclaimed Agrippa. " Do you take 
 me, then, for Fate ? Do I declare my own 
 judgment, or that of the immutable stars \ 
 Daughter, you are unreasonable ; and ex- 
 pect me not to interpret, but to change 
 Destiny." 
 
 " This is not what I require ; but I know 
 your opinions to be favourable to Bourbon, 
 and your prediction accords with them. I 
 do not forget that you are under obligations 
 to him light ones, I admit, compared with 
 those you owe me, your mistress and pro- 
 tector; but still you may be swayed by 
 them. You say, inclination blinds me ; 
 may it not have the same effect on your- 
 self r 
 
 " No ; for when I contemplate those di- 
 vine luminaries, I feel none remember none. 
 Looking on their prodigious revolutions, I 
 forget myself who am less than an atom, 
 smaller than a speck. Then I see the fool- 
 
 I 3
 
 178 THE KING AND 
 
 ishness of man's wisdom the meanness of 
 his greatness. Think you, when my eyes 
 read the fearful handwriting, in those vast 
 and stupendous chambers, that they can be 
 dazzled by earthly grandeur 1 When my 
 heart and soul quake with consternation, 
 can I imagine a lie 1" 
 
 Still " 
 
 "In short," interrupted Agrippa, "you 
 are still incredulous. What you wish you 
 will believe : all that is distasteful, reject. 
 This it is to be human I" 
 
 " Dread man I" cried Louise, awed by his 
 solemn manner : " will you not help me ? 
 It is little to foresee dangers, if you cannot 
 avert them or will not !" 
 
 " These are beyond my power ; but, 
 though not to be controlled, they may be 
 shunned. You doubt me ! Have you cou- 
 rage to test my words to hear them con- 
 firmed from BENEATH !"
 
 THE COUNTESS. 179 
 
 " "What do you mean T said Louise, be- 
 coming deadly pale. 
 
 " I will summon a spirit," answered 
 Agrippa ; " and, by a potent spell, enforce 
 him to say what will happen." 
 
 The Duchess trembled violently, and for 
 a moment was speechless. 
 
 " Call him !" she then said, in a tremulous 
 voice. " I will listen." 
 
 Agrippa arose, and, throwing some herbs 
 into a furnace, in front of the mirror, the 
 chamber was filled with a rich fragrance. 
 The light afforded by the lamp grew dim, 
 and then gradually assumed a blue tint, 
 heightening the ghastly effect of the ob- 
 jects around. Louise's terror increased, 
 as Agrippa, planting himself before the 
 furnace, pronounced some mystic words 3 
 waving his wand to and fro ; on which 
 a column of smoke shot up, and quickly 
 clearing away, discovered on the curtain
 
 180 THE KING AND 
 
 of the mirror the hideous figure of a 
 demon. 
 
 " Horror !" screamed Louise, burying her 
 face in a scarf. 
 
 " Fear not, and you are safe," whispered 
 Agrippa. " What would you learn first V 
 
 The Duchess made a scarcely audible 
 reply. 
 
 " Do I hear you aright T said Agrippa, 
 amazed. " Why, if you think of espousing 
 him, are you so bent on his ruin 1" 
 
 Louise was silent. 
 
 "Strange, inscrutable woman!" murmured 
 the Philosopher : and, raising his wand, he 
 cried " Speak, Spirit ! Shall Louise of 
 Savoy become the wife of Charles do 
 Bourbon 1" 
 
 " Does the eagle mate with the kite ?" 
 replied the Demon, in tones that made 
 Louise shudder : " the Lion with the fox ? 
 Not more possible is this conjunction !"
 
 THE COUNTESS. 181 
 
 " Will she succeed in her other designs 1" 
 inquired Agrippa. 
 
 "Fate has pronounced them accursed. 
 They will blast both herself and her race." 
 
 " By whose hand V demanded Agrippa. 
 
 " Behold !" cried the Demon, vanishing. 
 
 As Louise involuntarily looked up, the 
 curtain flew aside, disclosing through a cloud 
 of silvery vapour, the dark framework of 
 the mirror, in the centre of which stood an 
 apparition of Bourbon. So perfect was the 
 resemblance so life-like the form and 
 aspect, that Louise could hardly believe 
 that it was not the Constable himself. 
 
 "Traitor! perjurer!" she cried, fear giving 
 way to rage, "is it you who threaten? 
 Fool! I laugh at your plots, though the 
 fiend himself should aid them ! Ay, frown 
 if you will ! but you shall find me as stern 
 as yourself. I will either be your wife or 
 your evil genius." And, without speaking 
 to Agrippa, she flung out of the room.
 
 182 THE KING AND 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Oh ! think what anxious moments pass between 
 The birth of plots and their last fatal periods. 
 
 ADDISON. 
 
 GREAT was the excitement in Paris, as 
 the day approached for deciding, by course 
 of law, whether Bourbon was to retain pos- 
 session of the broad territories and princely 
 reyenues of his duchy, or surrender them to 
 the Duchess d'Angouleme. 
 
 Circumstances were not favorable to a 
 demonstration of public opinion on the 
 question. Ever since the accession of Louis 
 XL, the citizens had gradually become more 
 and more enslaved more apathetic, more 
 helpless ; and withal, were so accustomed to 
 suffer themselves from the excesses of arbi-
 
 THE COUNTESS. 183 
 
 trary power, that sympathy was not easily 
 aroused by a persecution of their superiors. 
 Indeed, the Barons were more odious from 
 their rapacity and tyranny than the Govern- 
 ment itself; and the Rights of Seignory, which 
 invested them with enormous privileges, and 
 almost irresponsible authority, constituted 
 the greatest grievance of the people. From 
 this system arose a state of society which 
 surpasses the imagination of more civilized 
 times. Murders, assassinations, robberies, 
 and abductions were perpetrated in the 
 open day, in the most public streets of 
 Paris ; and the most notorious offenders 
 escaped unpunished. Police there was 
 none ; justice was a name ; and the very 
 office of judge was bought and sold. There 
 was no security for property but little for 
 life ; and, in fact, the united oppression 
 of the King, Barons, and Clergy, almost 
 deprived life of value.
 
 184 THE KING AND 
 
 It was at this moment of national dis- 
 organization that Bourbon had stepped for- 
 ward as the protector of the Commons, to 
 whom his heroic character, love of justice, 
 and profuse generosity had already endeared 
 him. From being a favorite, he became 
 their idol ; and, when the tide of per- 
 secution set in, his wrongs were more can- 
 vassed than their own. In spite of long 
 habits of sufferance in defiance of a large 
 armed force, which constantly patrolled the 
 streets, they grew bold in his cause, and 
 more than one troop of soldiers felt the 
 effects of their resentment. If these at- 
 tempts at riot were insignificant, public 
 opinion was seen more plainly in the por- 
 tentous murmurs of immense mobs, dis- 
 persing without resistance on the first 
 appearance of the authorities, to assemble 
 the next moment in another place, and, 
 from the order and unanimity that pre-
 
 THE COUNTERS. 185 
 
 vailed, it was clear that they were ranged 
 under able leaders. Bourbon, by the King's 
 command, remained with the army on 
 the frontier of Flanders ; and all persons 
 known to be in his interest were beset with 
 spies, who made the Goyernment acquainted 
 with their every movement. 
 
 Such was the position of affairs, when, 
 one evening, soon after dusk, some four or 
 five persons were lounging in a cabaret, 
 which rejoiced in the sign of the Dolphin, 
 and was situated in that part of the capital 
 called the Ville de Paris. They were con- 
 versing with the host, who, as well as his 
 daughter, a coquettish grisette, sought to 
 entertain them, at one and the same time, 
 with good liquor, and the news of the 
 day. 
 
 "It's all stuff, Pierre Leroux," said the 
 host, "and no one in his senses would believe 
 it. The Constable marching on Paris ! Ah !
 
 186 THE KING AND 
 
 mon ami, this intelligence, I trow, was 
 devised, like mj jerkin and doublet, at jour 
 own board." 
 
 " Morbleu ! " cried a roguish-looking 
 batelier, with a wink at the grisette, " this 
 is a perfect wonder. I have heard of 
 tidings being borne by a pigeon, but it is 
 new to have them from a goose." 
 
 "Liable! do you dare to doubt my 
 word 1" cried the tailor, in a furious tone. 
 
 "Not your word, but your invention, 
 gossip," replied the host. 
 
 "I tell you, it is the common talk of 
 Paris, and is believed by every one," 
 affirmed the tailor, snappishly. 
 
 " I know better than that," cried a but- 
 cher ; " for I heard quite another story to- 
 night, as I came along ; and what's more, 
 folks say it's true." He paused to frown at 
 the batelier, who was becoming somewhat 
 tender with the grisette ; and then added,
 
 THE COUNTESS. 187 
 
 " To jour health, Mistress, and wishing you 
 a good husband/' 
 
 " You find her killing, I warrant you, 
 master butcher," cried the batelier, with a 
 second wink. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! I cry you mercy, good gal- 
 lants," laughed the damsel ; " but you will 
 make me something presently." 
 
 The butcher was meditating a furious 
 retort on the batelier, when a stranger, 
 muffled in a long brown cloak, stepped up to 
 the counter. 
 
 " A fair even to you, Sir Host," he said, 
 "I come to sup with the Abbe d'Hou- 
 mont." 
 
 "Monsieur 1'Abbe awaits you, Sir," replied 
 the host. And, admitting him behind the 
 counter, he whispered, "Will you sup in 
 the cloak?" 
 
 " To sup is the cloke" answered the 
 stranger.
 
 188 THE KING AND 
 
 While these words passed, the grisette 
 adroitly diverted the attention of the by- 
 standers, with the exception of a clownish- 
 looking peasant, whom she deemed un- 
 worthy of notice. Five other guests arrived, 
 and were received in the same way, and, 
 after an interchange of whispers, conducted 
 to an inner room. This number appeared 
 to be all that were expected ; for the host, 
 who had previously been somewhat restless, 
 now became easy again, and rejoined the 
 circle round his daughter. 
 
 "Good!" muttered the seeming peasant, 
 who was a sergeant-de-ville, in disguise : 
 " six men to sup with the Abbe d'Houmont, 
 all muffled in cloaks, and giving a pass- 
 word." And he slunk out of the cabaret. 
 
 Meanwhile, the mysterious guests had 
 entered a private apartment, accessible only 
 by a secret passage, approached through 
 by what appeared to be a cask of wine, but
 
 THE COUNTESS. 189 
 
 which a concealed spring opened like a 
 door. Here they were received by Lurcy, 
 Bourbon's secretary. 
 
 " One, two, three six!" he said, as the 
 last person entered ; "we are all here, now." 
 
 "All," cried the Count de St. Vallier ; 
 "and I, for one, am impatient to learn what 
 you have to tell us." 
 
 " First, let us be certain that there is no 
 chance of our being interrupted," said the 
 Seigneur de Lalieres ; " for it has taken me 
 more than a week to elude my spies, and I 
 cannot be sure now that they have not 
 followed me." 
 
 " It is impossible, if you attended to my 
 directions," said Lurcy. 
 
 " I confess, such a round would bewilder 
 a ferret," laughed Lalieres ; " but it is said, 
 that a watch has been placed on every house 
 of entertainment, and therefore they may 
 have observed us coming in."
 
 190 THE KING AND 
 
 "Well, the Abbe d'Houmont and bis 
 guests will be forthcoming, if required/' said 
 Lurcj. " They arrived yesterday." 
 
 " Ho ! ho !" and there was a general laugh. 
 
 "Let us be serious awhile," said St. 
 Vallier. " Lurcy, you have heard from my 
 Lord Constable 1 " 
 
 "Yes. He directed me to call you 
 together, and announce his intention to 
 take up arms, if any attempt is made to 
 infringe his rights. I am to ascertain 
 whether you will support him." 
 
 " With my last drop of blood," exclaimed 
 St. Vallier. 
 
 " And I !" " and I !" cried Lalieres and 
 Autun, together. 
 
 " I will live or die with him," said the 
 Seigneur Tausannes. 
 
 " In short, we are all of one mind," ob- 
 served Matignon, the Seneschal of Xor- 
 mandy. "But, I confess, as far as I can
 
 THE COUNTESS. 191 
 
 judge, this proceeding is quite uncalled for ; 
 and, to me, the Constable's determination 
 appears premature. The cause is not yet 
 decided, and may be given in his favor." 
 
 "I am precisely of your opinion," re- 
 marked the Seigneur d'Argouges. "When 
 his right is so clear, why should we doubt 
 that it will be allowed?" 
 
 " Because the judge is his personal enemy," 
 said Lurcy. 
 
 "More than that," cried St. Vallier: "it 
 was with this judge that the pretended 
 claim of the Duchess d'Angouleme originated, 
 and so it has already secured a verdict." 
 
 " But his lordship can appeal to the King," 
 urged D'Argouges. 
 
 "As a minister of peace," observed 
 Autun, " I would counsel that course, if 
 experience did not show that it would be 
 perfectly useless. We know how the King 
 has treated him."
 
 192 THE KING AND 
 
 " It is the reproach of our country," 
 remarked Tausannes. 
 
 " Then, what are we to do 1" said the 
 Seneschal Matignon, uneasily." " Revolt V 
 
 There was a pause. 
 
 " I only require you to prepare, my Lord," 
 Lurcy then said. " I am to assure you, 
 from the Constable himself, that before he 
 resorts to force, every effort shall be made to 
 preserve peace. You are not asked to 
 strike, but to arm." 
 
 " I am satisfied," replied Matignon. "This 
 is but reasonable." 
 
 "Our first care must be to secure the 
 Commons," resumed Lurcy. " They are 
 well enough disposed : but will only take 
 arms on condition that great privileges 
 are accorded them, in a written engagement 
 from the Constable. Here lies our greatest 
 difficulty." 
 
 "Howl" inquired St. Vallier.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 193 
 
 " The unwashed rascals, I suppose, ask 
 too much ;" observed d'Argouges. 
 
 " No wonder/' returned Lalieres . " Jacques 
 Bonhommie could swallow a whale." 
 
 " It is not that," said Lurcy ; " but they 
 require the charter to be under his lordship's 
 hand and seal. A trusty messenger has 
 been despatched to him, and will doubtless 
 procure it; but, meanwhile, the leaders of 
 the Commons grow impatient. They expect 
 to receive it to-morrow night, when they 
 will assemble at the quarry, and I fear from 
 the difficulty incurred in communicating 
 with his lordship, that it will not arrive." 
 
 " In that case, you must only put them 
 off," said Matiguon, shrugging his shoulders. 
 
 " But they think that I am trifling with 
 them, and it is necessary that some noble 
 person, known to be in my lord's interest, 
 should attend, and assure them that their 
 demands shall be conceded." 
 
 VOL. i. K
 
 194 THE KING AND 
 
 "And who will fulfil this mission?" asked 
 D'Argouges, " I do not care for the danger 
 it involves, but, having no eloquence, cannot 
 pretend to it." 
 
 " If eloquence is essential, who so fit as 
 my Lord Bishop?" said Matignon, with a 
 slight sneer. 
 
 " We will not cavil about it, my lords," 
 cried St. Vallier. "I have no gift of words, 
 but my noble suzerain shall not want a 
 representative. I will undertake the task." 
 
 " And, to show that I would not shrink 
 from it, I will accompany you," said the 
 Bishop of Autun. 
 
 " Let us consider, then, what is to be said 
 to them," suggested Lurcy. 
 
 While this was passing, the host and his 
 daughter, who had gradually got rid of their 
 company, were surprised by the entrance of 
 a sergeant-de-ville. 
 
 " Ah ! Monsieur ! the honour of this visit
 
 THE COUNTESS. 195 
 
 overwhelms me," said the host, with a 
 profound bow. 
 
 " Silence," replied the sergeant, presenting 
 a pistol. "You have in jour house six persons, 
 who have come to sup with the Abbe 
 d'Houmontr 
 
 " Monsieur is right, and a merry set they 
 are, as ever entered a cabaret. Just listen, 
 Monsieur!" As he spoke a loud burst of 
 merriment was heard. 
 
 "Mark me," said the officer. "The 
 cabaret is surrounded by musketeers. Not 
 a mouse can leave it. Now, to save your 
 own neck, confess that this supper is a ruse 
 de guerre; and your pretended guests, con- 
 spirators." 
 
 " Conspirators ! Monsieur will kill me with 
 fear. If you do but know the Abb6 
 d'Houniont " 
 
 " I am his parishioner, and know him 
 well." 
 
 K2
 
 196 THE KING AND 
 
 "You shall be satisfied, then, Monsieur. 
 But you will pardon my preceding you to the 
 room, as his guests are students of the 
 University." 
 
 "Students of treason, more likely. You 
 are practising a trick upon me." 
 
 " Monsieur can judge for himself," returned 
 the host, drawing back. "I would only 
 avoid bloodshed, if it could be done." 
 
 " Lead on," said the sergeant. " If 
 treachery is attempted, I will blow out your 
 brains." 
 
 Notwithstanding this threat, it was with 
 manifest reluctance that he followed the 
 obsequious host. From their number and 
 desperate character, the students of Paris 
 had become too powerful for the ordinary 
 officers of the law ; and, being subject to no 
 jurisdiction but that of the colleges, com- 
 mitted the most flagrant crimes with impu- 
 nity. An affront offered to one was taken
 
 THE COUNTESS. 197 
 
 up and avenged by the whole body, and only 
 a short time had elapsed since the Mayor of 
 Paris haying ordered a student to be hanged 
 for murder, had been compelled to make a 
 public atonement for his offence, walking in 
 solemn procession through the city to kiss 
 the murderer's corpse. 
 
 In the chamber which the host entered, 
 seven persons were seated at a table, gar- 
 nished with a goodly array of goblets and 
 stoups of wine, mingled with the relics 
 of a feast. The party was of a most 
 heterogeneous description, the jovial-look- 
 ing Abbe having invited no two guests of 
 the same country, so that, lolling in his 
 presidential chair, he was saluted in one 
 breath with the varied accents of England, 
 Germany, and Spain, Scotland, Wales, and 
 Ireland. 
 
 " Pardon me, brave gentlemen and most 
 reverend Abbe," cried the host, " but here
 
 198 THE KING AND 
 
 is one would speak with, you a sergeant 
 de ville." 
 
 " A sergeant de ville !" exclaimed the 
 German. "Turn him out of jour house, 
 gossip ! " 
 
 ' Kick him out !" said the Englishman. 
 
 " Throw him out of the window !" cried 
 the Welshman. 
 
 " Break his bones! " roared the Irishman. 
 
 " Canna' you fetch him a box o' the lug, 
 man ?" drawled the Scot. 
 
 " Stab him ! " cried the Spaniard. 
 
 " Roast him!" said the Abbe. 
 
 "But he is your parishioner, Monsieur 
 1'Abbe," interposed the host ; " and has the 
 honor of your reverence's acquaintance." 
 
 " Oh ! that's another thing," said the 
 German. 
 
 " Entirely," said the Irishman. 
 
 "Altogether," agreed the Abbe. "Let 
 him enter."
 
 THE COUNTESS. 199 
 
 " I thank you, Monsieur 1' Abbe/' said the 
 sergeant, respectfully, as he stepped in. 
 " Now that I see you I am satisfied, and 
 could not for a moment doubt the honest 
 intentions of your brave guests. It is com- 
 pany of another stamp I seek. Each man 
 wore a cloak, and gave a password as he 
 entered." 
 
 As these words were uttered, the Abbe's 
 six guests sprang up, disclosing on the back 
 of every chair a brown cloak, which they 
 instantly wrapped round their persons. 
 
 " Now for the password !" cried the Abbe. 
 " Will you sup in the cloak ?" 
 
 " To sup is the cloke? answered the six 
 guests together. 
 
 " It is the same," cried the sergeant. "I 
 ask no more." 
 
 And, before any one could interpose, he 
 vanished from the room. 
 
 "By'r Lady, a most subtle invention,"
 
 200 THE KING AND 
 
 cried the priest, amidst a peal of laughter. 
 " Now, more wine, master host ; we'll drink 
 a health to the good Constable."
 
 THE COUNTESS. 201 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 I tell thee Jack Cade, the clothier, means to dress 
 the Commonwealth, and turn it, and set a new nap 
 on it. 
 
 So he had need, for 'tis threadbare. Well, I say 
 it was never merry world in England since gentle- 
 men came up. 
 
 HENRY vi. 
 
 ON the brow of a hill at Montmartre, 
 overlooking Paris, "was a vast quarry, which, 
 from its wild and gloomy aspect, had the 
 reputation of being haunted. Not even a 
 bramble or a patch of verdure was seen near 
 the spot ; and in a sweep of several miles, 
 there was no trace of human habitation. 
 Wherever the eye turned, all was silent, 
 solitary and dismal. 
 
 Emerging for a moment from dark scud- 
 
 K3
 
 202 THE KING AND 
 
 ding clouds, which seemed ready to fall, the 
 moon shed a feeble light on the scene, show- 
 ing the figures of two men, so disguised that 
 no one could distinguish their features. They 
 had just gained the ascent, and halted be- 
 fore a tall crag, at the side of the quarry. 
 
 " We seem to be in good time, Admiral," 
 said one. "Are you sure that we have 
 come to the right place 1" 
 
 "It was this spot that D'Argouges 
 named/' answered Bonnivet, " and I have no 
 doubt that he has correctly informed me. 
 But we must have a little patience, mon ami." 
 
 " I cannot be patient with these rascally 
 bourgeois, who cheat us all day, and come 
 here to rail against us at night," replied Mar- 
 shal Lautrec. " Nor, to tell the truth, do I 
 clearly understand why we are pursuing this 
 round about policy, when it would be so 
 easy to bring down a few troopers, and carry 
 the whole batch to prison."
 
 THE COUNTESS. 203 
 
 " Precisely the thing we wish to avoid," 
 rejoined Bonnivet. " Our object is not to 
 scotch the snake but to kill him, and that 
 can only be done by striking at Bourbon." 
 
 " But I thought you had taken measures 
 to intercept young Noel with the Constable's 
 manifesto V 
 
 " True ; but to-night's meeting will give 
 us further information ; and we shall learn 
 who are his friends, and what they intend 
 to do." 
 
 " In my opinion, we should save ourselves 
 a great deal of trouble if one of his dema- 
 gogues were stretched on the rack." 
 
 " I would not resort to torture when a 
 little finesse renders it unnecessary. In- 
 deed, such a course would frustrate our 
 design, which is to effect a breach between 
 him and the Barons. There are men among 
 them, you are aware, who will not put faith 
 in extorted confessions."
 
 204 THE KING AND 
 
 " Hist !" said Lautrec, suddenly ; " there 
 is a light !" 
 
 They stepped behind the crag, and shortly 
 afterwards, seven or eight men, lighted by 
 a torch, appeared on the further side, and 
 descended into the quarry. They were 
 soon joined by others, and every moment 
 received fresh accessions, till more than a 
 hundred had assembled. Several of a su- 
 perior condition arrived on horseback ; but 
 few were above the rank of citizens, or far- 
 mers ; and the light of three or four flam- 
 beaux, which flickered in the wind, gleamed 
 on faces still marked with the day's toil. 
 To these persons, a stout burly-looking 
 bourgeois, whose sleek velvet dress spoke 
 him a man of substance, was an object of 
 especial veneration; and, indeed, the good 
 notary, Pierre Vauban, was even an impor- 
 tant person in the eyes of their superiors. 
 
 " 'Tis a fair sight to see you here, Master
 
 THE COUNTESS. 205 
 
 Notary," said Jean Barbezieux, a substantial 
 water-carrier ; " and, I warrant, we shall 
 not lack cunning counsel ; for they would be 
 sharp eyes that could catch you stumbling." 
 
 " Ay, I promise you, they won't catch 
 Master Vauban asleep," laughed a grimy 
 charcoal-burner, pleased to find himself in 
 such good company, and ready to agree 
 to anything that might be said. 
 
 " For my part, I think we're all asleep, 
 or we should never have come to this pass/' 
 said a sturdy farmer. " Let them kill us, 
 if these wrongs are to go on ; for we had 
 far better be dead." 
 
 " That's true, forsooth," concurred the 
 charcoal-burner. 
 
 " There, hold your peace !" cried the 
 notary Vauban. " You know as much what 
 you are talking of as my stick. Peace, and 
 listen to these worshipful nobles, here, who 
 have come from the Lord Bourbon."
 
 206 THE KING AND 
 
 " Bravely spoken, faith," observed the 
 charcoal-burner. 
 
 " Hold jour tongue, willa' 1" growled an 
 herculean blacksmith. " Here's the Count 
 St. Vallier." 
 
 " Vive le Oomte !" was the general cry, 
 as St. Vallier and the Bishop of Autun rode 
 into the throng. 
 
 " Thanks, thanks, rny friends !" answered 
 the Count. 
 
 " Friends 1 good !" muttered the charcoal- 
 burner. " This is something, neighbour 
 Colin, to be friends of a Count." 
 
 " Willa be still !" growled the black- 
 smith. 
 
 " Do you bring us good news, Noble 
 Count," demanded Henri Dolbert, a wealthy 
 goldsmith. " Worshipful Master Lurcy, 
 your servant. I hope to-night will close 
 our bargain." 
 
 " The Count will answer you, Master
 
 THE COUNTESS. 207 
 
 Dolbert," replied Lurcy. " He stands here 
 for my Lord Duke." 
 
 " Yes," said St. Vallier, " I come to 
 greet you in his name to promise attention 
 to all your wishes. The ties which bound 
 him to you are strengthened. Hitherto, he 
 has been the champion of the oppressed 
 now he is oppressed himself." 
 
 Murmurs broke from the assembly, but 
 instantly subsided. 
 
 " He has shed his blood for France," pur- 
 sued St. Vallier, " devoted to her his strength 
 and wealth ; and now, because he will not 
 help to enchain her, he is to be stripped of 
 his birthright. If they do this to him, what 
 may be expected for us T 
 
 " I know not, indeed," cried Paul de 
 Varons, a sober merchant ; " for even now 
 we seem at the worst. It was but yesterday 
 that the Chancellor's minions came to my 
 stores, and carried off ten bags of florins by
 
 208 THE KING AND 
 
 force, for the King's use, without a word 
 said or done." 
 
 " A pretty pass, truly, when a man's goods 
 arc not safe in his own house," cried the 
 smith. "Is not this against the law, 
 Master Notary 7 ?" 
 
 " The good Cwr^will tell you it is against 
 the Commandments," answered the Notary ; 
 " but law is another thing." 
 
 " I warrant you," concurred the smith, in 
 a tone more significant than agreeable. 
 
 " The law we live under is that of might," 
 resumed St. Vallier. " It is the strong 
 man's arm, and the rich man's gold ; but 
 the Lord Constable will make it just and 
 impartial. I speak thus positively, being 
 acquainted with his purpose." 
 
 " This is all well, noble Count," cried the 
 notary. " We hold Paris in our hands, 
 and will not despair." 
 
 " You have but to secure the city for the
 
 THE COUNTESS. 209 
 
 Constable, when he gives the signal," said 
 St. Vallier ; " and all you demand shall be 
 jours." 
 
 " Softly awhile, noble Count," answered 
 Vauban. " We all love my Lord Con- 
 stable ; but, before we draw the sword, you 
 must show us what it is for. In short, we 
 must have the declaration I have talked of, 
 under his lordship's own hand and seal." 
 
 " Do you doubt his plighted word 1" 
 
 " Not if he were here to pledge it, though 
 even then we should need a writing." 
 
 " Ay," said the merchant, " or, when our 
 cause is gained, the Barons may oblige him 
 to neglect us." 
 
 " That they could not do, when you had 
 his word," answered St. Vallier. 
 
 " But have you not brought us a writing, 
 Count V inquired the notary. " By Master 
 Lurcy's promise, we were to have one to- 
 night."
 
 210 THE KING AND 
 
 " He has done his utmost to procure it." 
 replied St. Vallier, " and cannot be blamed 
 for the delay. The messenger sent to the 
 Constable has not yet arrived." 
 
 These words were followed by a pause, 
 evincing the disappointment of the assem- 
 bly, when the silence was suddenly broken 
 by the tramp of a horse, approaching 
 at full gallop. In a moment afterwards, 
 Esme rode up ; and made his way to St. 
 Vallier. 
 
 "From my Lord Constable, Count," he 
 cried, presenting a folded paper, " I should 
 have been here before, but was intercepted 
 at the Barriere Blanche, and only escaped 
 by a miracle." 
 
 "Ha!" said St. Vallier. "But we will 
 speak of this anon." He glanced for a 
 moment at the paper, and then added 
 " Here, good Yauban, is the declaration you 
 desired. The Constable enumerates your
 
 THE COUNTESS. 211 
 
 grievances, and promises to redress them, 
 Listen!" 
 
 The document was read, amidst profound 
 silence, succeeded, at the conclusion, by a 
 burst of applause. 
 
 " This is all we need," cried Vauban, re- 
 ceiving the paper from St. Vallier ; " and, 
 by'r Lady, it is bravely writ. Here, too, 
 are the good Duke's own hand and seal. 
 Right nobly has he sealed it." 
 
 " Nay, if it be his own hand, let us all 
 have a sight of it," cried Bonnivet, in a 
 feigned voice. 
 
 The proposal gave general satisfaction, 
 and accordingly the important document 
 was handed round, while the principal leaders 
 conferred for a few moments apart. Their 
 plans being arranged, St. Vallier required it 
 to be given up to Vauban, but, to the con- 
 sternation of all, it was not to be found.
 
 212 THE KING AND 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Justice herself, that sitteth wimpled 'bout 
 The eyes, doth it not because she will take 
 No gold, but that she would not be seen blushing 
 When she takes it : the balances she holds 
 Are not to weigh the right of the cause, but 
 The weight of the bribe. 
 
 LILLY. 
 
 THE Supreme Justiciary Court of France 
 held its sittings at an ancient table, formed 
 of white marble, which stood in the palace 
 of the parliament, and hence the tribunal 
 was designated " The Table of Marble." 
 
 On one side, in front of the table, sat the 
 Duchess d'Angouleme, attended by a bevy 
 of maids of honour ; and on the other 
 stood Bourbon, with his secretary, Lurcy,
 
 THE COUNTESS. 213 
 
 and Monthelon, his lawyer. Du Prat, as 
 chancellor, occupied the presidential bench. 
 
 The pleadings on both sides had given 
 place to a pause, during which nothing was 
 heard but the low whisperings of the judges, 
 as they conferred with each other, watched 
 anxiously by the spectators, who, though 
 only the nobility and chief courtiers had 
 been admitted, crowded every part of the 
 great hall. Their consultation being ended, 
 a profound silence ensued, which was broken 
 by the deep, sonorous voice of Du Prat. 
 
 " The Court has considered this case," 
 he said. " Her grace, Louise, Duchess 
 d'Angouleme, as representative of the male 
 line of Bourbon-Beaujeu, claims the titles, 
 dignities, lands and revenues appertaining 
 to the late Louis, Duke de Bourbon, now 
 held and enjoyed by Charles de Bourbon, 
 Lord Constable, in right of his wife Suzanne, 
 only child and heir of the said Louis ;
 
 214 THE KING AND 
 
 also, as successor of the eldest female line 
 of Bourbon, in right of descent. Louise 
 Duchess d'Angouleme, you are required to 
 answer whether this is jour plea 1" 
 
 "Her grace affirms by me that your 
 lordship's record is true," said the notary, 
 Gierardin, 
 
 " The said Charles de Bourbon," resumed 
 Du Prat, "urges, as rejoinder, first, the 
 prior right of his wife Suzanne, and, secondly, 
 the settlement of Duke Louis, sanctioned by 
 our late sovereign lord, Louis the Twelfth 
 Charles de Bourbon, Lord Constable, you 
 are required to answer whether this is your 
 plea?" 
 
 " You have stated it truly, Sir Chan- 
 cellor," replied Bourbon. 
 
 " The judgment of the Court," resumed 
 Du Prat, in less distinct tones, though he 
 darted a vindictive look at Bourbon, " is, that 
 Louise, Duchess d'Angouleme, is the lawful
 
 THE COUNTESS. 215 
 
 heir of the late Louis, Duke de Bourbon ; 
 and, accordingly, mj Lord Constable is re- 
 quired and commanded to surrender all the 
 titles, dignities, lands, and revenues, afore- 
 said, formerly held by the said Duke ; and 
 which are henceforward vested for ever in 
 the said Duchess d'Angouleme." 
 
 .A murmur of surprise, mingled with 
 exclamations, broke from the audience, 
 amidst which Bourbon arose, wearing a look 
 of haughty and stern indifference. 
 
 " You have proclaimed your decision, Sir 
 Chancellor," he said. " I have now to make 
 mine." 
 
 " Stay, my Lord !" cried Du Prat hesi- 
 tatingly. " The Court, aware of the hard- 
 ship of your case, and desirous to prevent 
 further stir in this dispute, recommends the 
 union of the adverse interests, considering 
 that in such a transaction each party should 
 be guided less by inclination, than by con-
 
 216 THE KING AND 
 
 cern for the common weal. Being, therefore, 
 so empowered by you, we will make it our 
 humble suit to the Duchess d'Angouleme to 
 merge your joint rights in a contract of 
 
 marriage." 
 
 " On no account would I impose so much 
 trouble upon you," replied Bourbon. " As 
 her grace is to have my estates, they shall 
 go to her unencumbered." 
 
 Regardless of the sensation excited by 
 the words, he walked proudly out of the 
 hall without even looking at Louise, whom 
 rage and shame had rendered speechless. 
 
 The Count of St. Paul, Bayard, and the 
 veteran Marshal La Palisse hastened to 
 follow him, but were overtaken in the cor- 
 ridor by Bonnivet and Lautrec. 
 
 " A word with you, my Lords," cried the 
 Admiral. " I have something very impor- 
 tant to communicate." 
 
 "It is what will change your minds,
 
 THE COUNTESS. 217 
 
 if you are seeking Bourbon," added Lau- 
 tree. 
 
 " I have heard all you can urge, Marshal," 
 replied Bayard ; " and must now tell you 
 plainly, you cannot fasten this quarrel 
 on me." 
 
 " Forgive me, Chevalier," said Lautrec ; 
 " but am I to think that you will support 
 the demands which Bourbon claims for the 
 Commons ? w 
 
 " In short, will you aid in pulling down 
 our order, my good Lords'?" asked Bon- 
 nivet. 
 
 "I have told you repeatedly, Admiral, 
 that I do not side with the Constable ou 
 this point," answered Bayard. " At the 
 same time, it must be owned that the Com- 
 mons are grievously ill-used." 
 
 " Some of their burdens ought, no doubt, 
 to be reduced," said St. Paul. " This is all 
 my kinsman seeks." 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 THE KING AND 
 
 " It had been better not to stir such a 
 question," observed La Palisse. " As it is, 
 the Constable, I am sure, intends only to 
 allay the general discontent, and will not 
 infringe the rights of the Barons." 
 
 " So you have said again and again, 
 Marshal," cried Bonnivet, "and I have 
 warned you conjured yon, not to be thus 
 blinded. It is now in my power to make 
 you see the truth, and you shall own your- 
 self mistaken. Read this ! " 
 
 " And observe, my Lords," said Lautrec, 
 as they took the proffered paper, " it bears 
 the signature and seal of the Constable ; and 
 is his own manifesto to the Commons." 
 
 " Perdition ! " exclaimed St . Paul. "Would 
 he abolish the Rights of Seignory ? " 
 
 "The Commons to tax themselves!" 
 cried La Palisse. "Ma foil they will 
 soon shift their burdens from their own 
 shoulders to our's."
 
 THE COUNTESS. 219 
 
 " The Chevalier is silent," said Bonnivet, 
 "and probably thinks still that the Con- 
 stable means fairly." 
 
 "Do what you will, my Lords/' cried 
 Bayard sorrowfully. " I see by this paper 
 that I am not made for Courts, and should 
 not stir in their factions. To-night I shall 
 return to the camp. 
 
 " Hark ! " said Lautrec. " The Constable 
 has joined his friends." 
 
 The tremendous shouts which excited his 
 remark were elicited by Bourbon's appear- 
 ance in the vestibule, before which a vast 
 crowd had congregated, and were with 
 difficulty kept back by a strong force of 
 soldiers. As the Constable passed to his 
 horse, a man^in the garb of a priest, who 
 had contrived to penetrate the crowd of 
 attendants, sidled up to him. 
 
 " They have made you a beggar," he said in 
 a low voice. " Will you listen to me now 1" 
 
 L2
 
 220 THE KING AND 
 
 "The Sieur de Beaurein!" exclaimed 
 Bourbon in astonishment. 
 
 " Hush ! My august master, the Emperor, 
 has sent me to renew his proposals to you. 
 Shall I follow to your hotel ? " 
 
 Bourbon replied in the affirmative, and 
 rode off at the head of his retinue, just as 
 Triboulet, the jester, reached the spot, 
 hoping to hear something which might be 
 acceptable to his intriguing patron, Du 
 Prat,
 
 THE COUNTESS. 221 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Here comes a pair of very strange beasts, which 
 in all tongues are called fools. 
 
 Salutation and greeting to you all. 
 
 Good, my lord, bid him welcome. This is the 
 motley- minded gentleman that I have so often met 
 in the forest. 
 
 As You LIKE IT. 
 
 TEIBOULET looked around on every side 
 for the person who had spoken with Bour- 
 bon, and whose appearance had excited his 
 suspicions ; but he was nowhere to be seen ; 
 and mentally execrating his ill-fortune, the 
 jester pushed through the crowd towards 
 the Louyre. Arrived there, he proceeded 
 to the lower hall, which was appropriated 
 to the inferior domestics, jabbering to him-
 
 222 THE KING AND 
 
 self in the most vehement and excited 
 manner. 
 
 Servants of both sexes and every des- 
 cription, from the maitre d'hotel to the 
 scullion, were dispersed around, engaged in 
 their avocations, or sauntering idly about ; 
 and on one side was a group consisting of 
 the butler, a portly personage, with a highly 
 inflamed complexion, the concierge, a prim, 
 and antiquated dame, evidently having a 
 great opinion of her own consequence, and 
 two or three soubrettes. They were listen- 
 ing with eager wonder to the observations 
 of one of those corrupt offshoots of the 
 Church of Rome, called Pardoners, who, at 
 this period, gained an easy, and even 
 luxurious subsistence, by the sale of indul- 
 gences, as well as fabricated reliques, and, 
 as Chaucer's deathless verse too clearly 
 testifies, had from their abandoned character 
 long been regarded with disgust by pious
 
 THE COUNTESS. 223 
 
 Catholics, though, their affectation of sanctity 
 and egregious falsehoods continued to im- 
 pose on the credulous vulgar. 
 
 " These buckles belonged to the blessed 
 St. Francis Xavier," said the Pardoner, 
 taking the article referred to from his open 
 box. " They were worn in his contest 
 with the fiend ; and possess the admirable 
 quality of never wearing out. You see, 
 they are as bright as if they were made 
 yesterday. Just look at them, master 
 butler." 
 
 " Oh ! I see them, holy Pardoner," said 
 the butler, shuffling a pace or two further 
 off. " Our Lady keep us ! are these the 
 self-same buckles ? " 
 
 "The very same," answered the Par- 
 doner. "And you see that black mark 
 there V 3 
 
 "A sort of scratch, like," said the 
 butler.
 
 224 THE KING AND 
 
 "But more like a scorch" returned the 
 Pardoner ; " for the fiend making a kick at 
 the good Saint, just as he had him down, 
 his toe struck the buckle, quite burning off 
 the polish, and there the mark remains to 
 this day." 
 
 " "Wonderful ! " cried the butler and a 
 majordome together. 
 
 The soubrettes crossed themselves, and 
 drew closer to the Concierge, who regarded 
 the sacred relique with dignified awe. 
 
 " Have no fear of them," said the Par- 
 doner ; " for, owing to their share in the 
 Saint's conflict, nothing evil can ever come 
 where they are no, not even in limbo ; and 
 any pious purchaser might carry them there 
 in his coffin. They are worth ten crowns, 
 at least." 
 
 "Psln!" cried Triboulet, coming up, 
 " you may buy a gold pair for that ; and, 
 by my troth, these look scarcely old enough
 
 THE COUNTESS. 225 
 
 for the Saint's. But take them to ray 
 cousin, Henry of Navarre ; and see what 
 price he will rate them at." 
 
 " I will none of him, or of thee, fool," 
 replied the Pardoner. " Our Lady help us, 
 I say ! for we live in an awful age. Scoffers 
 now may go abroad openly mouthing their 
 jests at everything good. What say you 
 to this ear-ring, pretty mistress \ It is a 
 rare amulet." 
 
 " It belonged, then, to some devout lady, 
 I suppose," replied Minna, whom he had 
 addressed. 
 
 " You may well say that," answered the 
 Pardoner, with that condescending smile 
 which implies superior knowledge. " It has 
 dangled in the ear of Eutochia, who was one 
 of the seven Sleepers of Ephesus." 
 
 " And pray, who were they, holy Sir ? " 
 inquired Minna. 
 
 " Ah !" cried the butler :" it is some wond- 
 
 L3
 
 226 THE KING AND 
 
 rous history, I warrant you; for Master 
 Pardoner deals not in common wares." 
 
 " Why, it is true, I can tell some strange 
 things," concurred the Pardoner, compla- 
 cently ; " but there are few tales will match 
 this. In sooth, it might be doubted now-a- 
 days, if it did not rest on good evidence, 
 and, among other things, this very ear-ring 
 is attestation of it. You must know, then, 
 that the Seven Sleepers were Christian vir- 
 gins, who being ordered by the Emperor 
 Dacian to sacrifice to idols, fled to a cave in 
 mount Celyon, where they fell asleep, and 
 did not wake up till the reign of Theodosian, 
 two hundred and eight years afterwards." 
 
 " Wonderful ! " repeated the butler and 
 majordome, with their former unanimity. 
 
 " More wonderful than true, mayhap," 
 cried Triboulet. 
 
 " Again, thou scoffer \ " exclaimed the 
 Pardoner, with a frown. "But to speak
 
 THE COUNTESS. 227 
 
 wisdom to thee, is to cast pearls before a 
 hog. If thy wit equalled thy craft, such a 
 miracle would seem a small thing, when 
 greater ones pass before our very eyes." 
 
 "Ay, marry !" laughed Triboulet, "when 
 such a rogue as thou canst pass for a saint." 
 
 " Say you !" shouted the Pardoner, fiercely. 
 
 "Do you deny the miracles 1" 
 
 "Neither he nor any other can deny 
 them," said the Concierge. " I heard of one 
 last night, in the Faubourg. St. Denis, that 
 is truly marvellous." 
 
 " Did you, though ? " exclaimed the butler. 
 
 " Perchance, 'tis but an old woman's tale," 
 remarked the majordome. 
 
 "Old woman's tale, quotha!" said the 
 Concierge, bridling up. 
 
 " Old woman's, or old man's, it is true," 
 said the Pardoner ; " and I can give you 
 the best relation of it. A drunken wretch, 
 who had gambled away his last sous, coming
 
 228 THE KING AND 
 
 up the Rue des Hosiers, cursing and blas- 
 pheming, stopped before the shrine of our 
 Lady, and, in his fury, plunged a dagger 
 into the image. Blood spouted forth from 
 the wound, striking him dumb with horror ; 
 and, being taken before the Sorbonne, he 
 confessed his guilt, and is ordered to be 
 burnt," 
 
 " Liar !" exclaimed one of the bystanders. 
 
 " All started round, and the Pardoner 
 recoiled, thinking the voice supernatural ; 
 but his dark flabby face purpled with rage 
 the next moment, when he discovered the 
 speaker, who was a man of middle age, hav- 
 ing a sharp, stern countenance, and grey 
 eyes, beaming with fanatical enthusiasm. 
 One of the primitive converts of the re- 
 formed faith, he presented a striking con- 
 trast to the unworthy agent of the Church 
 of Rome, whose coarse features were marked 
 in broad and legible characters, with hypo-
 
 THE COUNTESS. 229 
 
 crisj and fraud, joined to traces of habitual 
 intemperance. 
 
 " Yea, thou knowest it is a lie," continued 
 the reformer ; " and I tell thee that a day 
 is coming, when thy false gods shall be 
 pulled down from their high places, and 
 idolatry rooted out of the land. Persecu- 
 tion may pile her faggots, and the fires of 
 martyrdom be kindled, but the light they 
 give forth, shall show Rome in all her de- 
 formity. Woe to the sink of abomination ; 
 for her downfall is at hand." 
 
 " Hear you the scoffer the blasphemer 1" 
 exclaimed the Pardoner. "But do I not 
 know him \ By'r Lady, yes ! it is Lc Clerc, 
 the heretic of Meaux. Sergeant ! I command 
 you to seize him, in the name of the Syndic 
 Bedier." 
 
 " Take me, take me to him," cried the 
 enthusiast. " I will defy his tortures ; and 
 glory in condemnation."
 
 230 THE KING AND 
 
 "Peste!" exclaimed the Sergeant, seiz- 
 ing him by the throat, while a cry of execra- 
 tion burst from the auditors : " this is rank 
 heresy, or I'm a Turk." 
 
 "Now, Mr. Sergeant, stand off !" cried a 
 fine athletic fellow, wearing the colours of 
 the Duchess of Alengon. " The stranger is 
 protected by the Duchess, and no one shall 
 molest him." 
 
 "Say you so, Clement Marot 1 ?" replied 
 the Sergeant, twirling his moustache. " Well, 
 I will not meddle against her grace ; but, 
 parbleu ! I must have satisfactiou from you, 
 Sir, Peste! we must cross swords before 
 I sleep." 
 
 " When you will, Sergeant," rejoined the 
 future poet, coolly. 
 
 " It is well," said the son of Mars. 
 " MorUeu ! I must have blood for this." 
 
 "Blood is crying aloud against you, 0, 
 Amalek !" shouted Le Clerc. " My voice "
 
 THE COUNTESS. 231 
 
 " Nay, Sir, it must be hushed here," said 
 Marot. "Come, I must take you away." 
 And he drew the gospeller out of the hall. 
 
 " The lower regions are going distracted," 
 said Triboulet. "We have war, discord, 
 and heresy, and this pretty lass will make 
 us a perfect pandemonium." 
 
 He threw his arm round Minna, and at- 
 tempted to kiss her : but a female of Amazon- 
 ian proportions, grotesquely attired, rushed 
 with a scream between them. 
 
 " Ah ! villain have I found you ? she 
 cried with hysterical vehemence. "Is this 
 the way you treat me 1 I'll tear your eyes 
 out, I will." 
 
 And to the amusement and wonder of the 
 bystanders though no, one could be more 
 astonished than Triboulet himself, she hand- 
 led the jester so roughly, that he called out 
 for mercy, blending his cries with furious 
 exclamations.
 
 232 THE KING AND 
 
 " Yes, you're a pretty fellow, truly," cried 
 the Amazon, " to run away from your wife, 
 and swear at her in this manner." 
 
 "His wife!" exclaimed Minna. "Are 
 you indeed his wife !" 
 
 " His loving and faithful wife, my pretty 
 dear." 
 
 " The false varlet ! He asked me to 
 marry him." 
 
 " Shame ! shame ! " cried several voices, 
 amidst a peal of laughter. 
 
 " What do you all mean 1 " screamed 
 Triboulet. " Think you, I'd marry such an 
 old hag as this an outlandish tigress 1 " 
 
 " Fye on you to abuse the poor woman," 
 said Minna. 
 
 " Bless your pretty mouth, for saying so," 
 cried the disowned lady. And, seizing her 
 round the waist, she pressed her lips with 
 masculine fervour. 
 
 " Help !" said Minna, breaking from bn,
 
 THE COUNTESS. 233 
 
 and covering her heightened color with a 
 laugh. 
 
 "No harm done, my dear," said the 
 Amazon. " As for you, villain, you think to 
 break my heart, I know ; but I'll first break 
 your bones." 
 
 " He ought to be tossed in a blanket," 
 said Minna, " he ought ! " 
 
 The sentiment was received with ap- 
 plause, and echoed on all sides, which so 
 terrified the jester, that he retreated towards 
 the door. But the fair claimant of his 
 hand arrested him ; and they were sur- 
 rounded by the servants, laughing and jeer- 
 ing at the luckless Triboulet, till he was 
 almost mad. A blanket was then produced, 
 and, in spite of his entreaties, threats, and 
 curses, he was thrown into it, and tossed in 
 the air. But one of his tormentors drop- 
 ping his hold, at one corner, he managed, at 
 last, to scramble to the floor, and darted,
 
 234 THE KING AND 
 
 amidst roars of laughter, out of the hall. 
 Inquiries were made for his wife ; but 
 Barnaby for it was he who personated 
 Madame Triboulet, had disappeared.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 235 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The man who pauses on the paths of treason, 
 Halts on a quicksand, the first step engulphs him. 
 
 HILL. 
 
 IN proceeding from the Court of Justice 
 to the Hotel du Petit Bourbon, his residence 
 in Paris, the Constable's every thought was 
 occupied by the communication of Beaurein. 
 Loyalty to the Crown, devotion to France, 
 and his high sense of duty, which had in- 
 duced him to submit to so many provocations, 
 now vanished like a mist from his mind. 
 The headstrong passions aroused in his bo- 
 som by this crowning act of injustice knew 
 no restraint, and, setting aside the nobler
 
 236 THE KING AND 
 
 sentiments of his nature, they discovered 
 the dawn of that revenge which previously 
 had been seen in dim and flitting glimpses. 
 The last injury had been inflicted on him, 
 and his resolve was taken. 
 
 Full of bitter reflections, he reached the 
 hotel, where, in accordance with a previous 
 arrangement, St. Vallier and the Seneschal 
 Matignon were awaiting him. 
 
 " The Chancellor has pronounced his de- 
 cree," he said, in answer to their look of 
 inquiry ; " and it is what I expected. They 
 have stripped me of everything." 
 
 " Not of your sword," replied St. Vallier, 
 significantly. 
 
 " They have left me enough in that to 
 do myself right with," rejoined Bourbon-; 
 " and the day has come for righting both 
 myself and France." 
 
 " I would shed my best blood in your 
 cause," said Matignon, though he had turned
 
 THE COUNTESS. 237 
 
 deadly pale ; " but I counsel you to think 
 well before you draw the sword." 
 
 " I have done so," answered Bourbon. 
 " Now I will think no more, but act." 
 
 "I admire your resolution," cried St. 
 Vallier ; " though it would, in truth, be 
 proper to do nothing rashly. Let us even 
 temporize a little, so as to gain sufficient 
 time to collect your resources. Our enemies 
 will, if they can, prevent your doing so, and 
 for this purpose, I doubt not, will seize your 
 various castles as soon as possible. There 
 is but one way of frustrating their design in 
 our present condition, and you may not 
 consider it an agreeable one." 
 
 o 
 
 " Name it," said Bourbon. 
 
 " Appeal to the tyrant himself, and de- 
 mand a bed of justice." 
 
 Bourbon coloured, and bit his lip ; but his 
 agitation was only momentary. 
 
 " You speak wisely and kindly," he said ;
 
 238 THE KING AND 
 
 "and wherefore should I not follow your 
 advice ? Must the dissimulation be all on 
 their side, as well as the wrong? Am I 
 alone to publish my intentions to the world 1 ? 
 No ! you behold me now, my lords, an 
 altered man one whose natural character 
 is distorted ; no longer confiding and open, 
 but wary, close, and designing. The appeal 
 shall be made to-day, and I will instruct 
 Monthelon to prepare it." 
 
 "This will give breathing time for our 
 preparations," observed St. Vallier. "The 
 citizens are ripe for revolt, but our arrange- 
 ments are not matured. Neither can your 
 grace's vassals be assembled without a 
 month's delay." 
 
 " But you mean not, surely, to grant the 
 citizens these new privileges that are talked 
 of T said Matignon. " If so, the Barons 
 will be ruined." 
 
 " I will only grant them what is right,"
 
 THE COUNTESS. 239 
 
 returned Bourbon. " As things are, they 
 are worse than slaves. Their labor, pro- 
 perty nay, their very lives are claimed by 
 others ; and they are subject to a hundred 
 masters. I have promised to do them justice, 
 and must keep my word." 
 
 " Your sentiments are my own, my lord," 
 said St. Vallier, " and I will steadfastly sup- 
 port your purpose ; but we must bear in 
 mind that it will increase the number of our 
 enemies." 
 
 " Be it so," answered Bourbon ; " and I 
 will take care that our friends do not fall 
 short. Let me tell you, for your private 
 ear, that overtures have been made to me 
 from the Emperor." 
 
 " Hold, my lord," cried St. Vallier, while 
 an expression of surprise broke from Ma- 
 tignon. " We are interrupted." 
 
 The door opened and admitted a page, 
 who, receiving Bourbon's permission, intro-
 
 240 THE KING AND 
 
 duced the Lord of Beaurein, in his disguise 
 of a priest ; but perceiving two strangers, 
 the envoy drew back. 
 
 " Do not be alarmed," said Bourbon ; 
 " these are my friends, and you may unfold 
 your mission with safety." 
 
 " It may be so," answered Beaureiu ; 
 " but my life is at stake, and I can only 
 speak with your grace alone." 
 
 " Leave us, then, my lords," cried Bour- 
 bon. " You shall soon know all." 
 
 " I will go to the King," resolved Ma- 
 tignon, mentally, as he and St. Vallier re- 
 tired, " and tell him what is passing. This 
 is a secret agent of the Emperor." 
 
 " You can now speak unreservedly," said 
 Bourbon to Beaurein ; " but I must tell you 
 beforehand that I can only treat with the 
 Emperor as an equal." 
 
 " The compact may be easily concluded," 
 replied Beaurein, "as I am invested with
 
 THE COUNTESS. 241 
 
 unlimited powers. Since I first made pro- 
 posals to you, our project has become more 
 matured, and we have obtained the adhe- 
 sion of the King of England. I am em- 
 powered to treat with you by him, as well 
 as my august master." 
 
 " And the conditions T 
 
 " They vary little from what I urged 
 before. My royal master and the king's 
 grace respectively engage to secure you 
 the crown of France, with the hand of 
 the Emperor's sister, Queen Eleanora of 
 Portugal, in marriage, provided you raised 
 a revolt, and within two mouths' time, 
 appear with three thousand men-at-arms 
 before Paris." 
 
 " I pledge myself to do so, conditionally 
 that the Emperor, within the same period, 
 marches an army on the French possessions 
 in Italy, and thus causes a diversion of the 
 tyrant's forces." 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 THE KING AND 
 
 "It shall be done. Is there aught else 
 you would stipulate 1 ?" 
 
 Some minor arrangements -were mooted, 
 leading to further conversation, when the 
 contract of alliance was definitively agreed 
 on, and signed and sealed by both par- 
 ties. 
 
 " I will now make all haste to the 
 Emperor, in Flanders," said Beaurein. "But 
 pardon me a moment. I never go forth twice 
 in the same disguise." 
 
 Turning the inside of his cassock out- 
 wards, it appeared as a Jew's gown, in 
 which he arrayed himself, and completed 
 his disguise by appending a false beard 
 to his chin. Then, bidding farewell to 
 Bourbon, who could not repress a smile, 
 he departed. 
 
 At the gate of the hotel, he was suddenly 
 surrounded by a party of musketeers, who 
 all grappled him at once ; but without
 
 THE COUNTESS. 243 
 
 offering any resistance, he loaded them with 
 abuse, in the jargon and accents of a 
 genuine Israelite. 
 
 "Hold!" cried an officer, laughing. "It 
 is a priest we are to look for. Let Moses 
 adrift. 5 ' 
 
 Beaurein was accordingly set at liberty, 
 and moved off, amidst the jeers of the 
 soldiers, whom he continued to execrate as 
 long as he could be heard. 
 
 M 2
 
 244 THE KING AND 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 They did not know how hate can burn 
 In hearts once changed from soft to stern ; 
 Nor all the false and fatal zeal 
 The convert of revenge can feel. 
 
 SIEGE OF COBINTH. 
 
 ON returning to the Louvre, after the 
 public refusal of her hand by Bourbon, 
 Louise of Savoj sought her closet, being 
 desirous both to avoid observation, and 
 meditate measures of revenge. 
 
 Wild and overpowering were the feelings 
 awakened in her bosom, from shame, morti- 
 fication, and wrath. Her expected triumph 
 had proved a humiliation, and victory had 
 loaded her with dishonour. She found no 
 satisfaction in the unjust decree of Du Prat,
 
 THE COUNTESS. 245 
 
 though endowing her with the government 
 and revenues of whole provinces since it 
 failed to bend or humble Bourbon. He to 
 whom she had knelt sacrificing pride, 
 ambition, self-respect, still met her advances 
 with disdain, preferring indigence and obscu- 
 rity to all the wealth, honours, and powers 
 her hand could bestow. 
 
 Hatred deep, relentless hatred, of the 
 man she had so basely injured, now became 
 her ruling sentiment; and reflection rather 
 strengthened, than mollified the feeling. 
 But it brought with it a self-inflicting retri- 
 bution, representing continually the marked 
 contrast between her own character and his; 
 and she was reminded every moment of his 
 superiority, and her debasement. 
 
 These bitter thoughts were interrupted by 
 the entrance of Francis. 
 
 "I have come to congratulate you on your 
 success, Madam," he said; "and I do so with
 
 246 THE KING AND 
 
 more pleasure, as Bourbon's renewed inso- 
 lence must entirely have estranged your 
 regard." 
 
 "You have heard it, then!" exclaimed 
 Louise, her face flushing with rage. " But, 
 yes ! it is now the talk of all Paris the 
 jest of every unwashed churl and babbling 
 slut. Yet I live, and have my senses ; and 
 am not avenged." 
 
 " Is it not revenge to reduce your enemy 
 to beggary, and enrich yourself with the 
 spoil 1 What more can you require 1" 
 
 " His blood," answered the Duchess, in a 
 tone that made Francis shudder. 
 
 " Nay, I will not consent to that ; and, to 
 say the truth, I think we have gone too far 
 already. You start, Madam ; but really we 
 must act with great caution in this business. 
 Bourbon will probably send me a formal 
 appeal against the Chancellor's judgment, so 
 couched as to oblige me, in vindication of
 
 THE COUNTESS. 247 
 
 my honour, to grant his demand of a bed of 
 justice ; and it may even be found expedient 
 to give him back part of his possessions/' 
 
 " Rash, misguided man, you surely cannot 
 meditate such a purpose. I will not dwell 
 on the insults he has offered you, in my 
 person ; but for the sake of your own peace 
 nay, for your safety, I charge you to 
 beware. Remember who it is you have pro- 
 voked I may say, to desperation. Look 
 for him in the assassin's dagger, in the 
 poisoned banquet, and on that pillow which 
 he will make one of thorns. Your very 
 dreams should be of Charles de Bourbon." 
 
 " Be assured, Madam, I will not make 
 such a bugbear of him." 
 
 "Then send him to the oubliettes of 
 Loches. The secret information of D'Ar- 
 gouges, and the paper brought off by Bon- 
 nivet from Montmartre, furnish sufficient 
 evidence to convict him of treason."
 
 248 THE KING AND 
 
 " You are mistaken. It is but his old 
 design against the barons ; and, for my 
 part, I should be glad to see their privileges 
 curtailed, though not by his hand. Believe 
 me, I have as little love for him as yourself; 
 but am warned on all sides not to press him 
 too hard." 
 
 "Marguerite is your counsellor," cried 
 Louise vehemently ; " but you will find, 
 when too late, that she is misleading you." 
 
 Here an attendant entered, ushering in 
 the Seneschal Matignon. 
 
 "You are surprised, Sire, at my im- 
 patience to speak with you," said the Sene- 
 schal ; " but it is to denounce a traitorous 
 conspiracy, which endangers the throne." 
 
 And without waiting to be questioned, he 
 informed them of what had passed at the 
 Hotel de Bourbon, and his belief that the 
 reputed priest was an emissary from the 
 Emperor.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 249 
 
 " Now, you \vill believe me," said Louise 
 to Francis, in an exulting tone. "If you 
 do not crush the traitor instantly, he will 
 make off to the Bourbonnois, and there can 
 defy you/' 
 
 " Let us proceed on safe grounds," said 
 Francis, shrinking from that contest which 
 his mother sought to hasten; "for, after all 
 we have little here but a few vaunting 
 words, spoken in the heat of passion. As 
 for this priest, you should have waited till 
 lie came forth, Matignon, and then ar- 
 rested him." 
 
 '' I have anticipated your commands, my 
 liege, for though I came in all haste to the 
 palace myself, I posted a party near the 
 Constable's hotel, with instructions to de- 
 tain the priest till my return." 
 
 " You have done well," rejoined Francis. 
 " Go, now, and see if he is secured. Mean- 
 time, I will order the arrest of St. Vallier." 
 
 M 3
 
 250 THE KING AND 
 
 "It is Bourbon you should arrest," cried 
 Louise, as Matignon departed. " Strike 
 the tree at the root, if you would fell it to 
 the ground." 
 
 " I will summon him to attend me, and 
 question him myself," replied Francis. 
 
 Thus speaking, he quitted the room, 
 leaving Louise to resume her reflections. 
 
 After an interval of about an hour, he 
 hastily re-entered. 
 
 " This wily priest has escaped," he said ; 
 " and Bourbon has privately gone off, no 
 one knows whither." 
 
 " Unfortunate !" exclaimed Louise. "But 
 send out parties in every direction. Pos- 
 sibly he may be overtaken."
 
 THE COUNTESS. 251 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Slow, from charm' d wonder, woke at last the 
 King. 
 
 SIB. E. B. LTTTON. 
 
 As soon as an appeal to Francis against 
 the decision of Du Prat had been delivered 
 at the Louvre, Bourbon, resolving to make 
 immediate preparations for resistance, di- 
 rected Esme Noel to await him outside the 
 city, with a small party of retainers; and 
 following alone, under cover of evening? 
 passed unnoticed through the gates, and 
 overtook them. Riding the whole night, 
 they came next day to his palace of Mou- 
 lins, in the Bourbonnois. 
 
 A horseman who rode in advance gave 
 notice of their approach ; and though ar- 
 riving only a few minutes before them,
 
 252 THE KINO AND 
 
 prepared everything for their reception. 
 Five hundred gentlemen of the household, 
 attired in dresses of the richest velvet, and 
 each wearing a chain of gold round his 
 neck, met them in the avenue ; and passing 
 on, they found the vast hall lined with 
 inferior retainers. Knights and men-at-arms 
 mingled with the throng, presenting in their 
 buff suits and coats of mail a stern contrast 
 to the gorgeous costume of ushers and pages. 
 The walls, wainscotted with polished oak, 
 were adorned with banners and trophies, 
 won on many a memorable field, and ranged 
 side by side with portraits of the race of 
 Bourbon, from the first Count of Paris to 
 the last of Montpensier. 
 
 Idolized by his adherents, Bourbon was 
 greeted on every side with acclamations, but 
 he heard them with seeming indifference, 
 though revealing no trace of the fierce and 
 unruly passions at work in his mind.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 253 
 
 He passed up the hall to his closet, giving 
 the Chamberlain an especial charge con- 
 cerning Esme, who was accordingly mar- 
 shalled into a stately suite of apartments, 
 where servants attended with refreshments. 
 After reposing himself, he went over the 
 palace, and examined with admiration its 
 numerous rarities and treasures. Then lie 
 sauntered into the park, which covered 
 several miles, embracing the most charming 
 variations of dell and upland, richly wooded, 
 adorned with numberless fountains, statues, 
 and hermitages, and watered by the clear 
 and tranquil Allier. 
 
 Seated at the foot of an oak, whose giant 
 arms held a leafy canopy above, rustled 
 gently by the breeze, while a thousand birds 
 filled the air with harmony, Esine's eye 
 roamed from point to point of the enchanting 
 scene, alighting continually on new beauties. 
 It was such a place as melancholy Jacques
 
 254 THE KING AND 
 
 would have loved ; and Esme was not insen- 
 sible to its influence. 
 
 Memory involuntarily reverted to his last 
 rencontre with Corinna, awaking the liveliest 
 tenderness for her, mingled with resentment 
 towards Francis. Yet reflection made him 
 sensible of the extravagant folly he had 
 committed, in fostering a passion so wild 
 and chimerical, and which he was now un- 
 
 i 
 
 able to eradicate. In spite of better reason, 
 his mind turned continually on its object, 
 and by degrees, associated her with every 
 hope and wish. Dazzled by beauty, he had 
 been lured on by smiles, charmed by an 
 engaging affability, infatuated by his own 
 thoughts. Absence now broke the spell, 
 but did not loosen his chain. Gloom and 
 sadness took the place of joy ; imagination 
 gave way to reality ; but his love was con- 
 stant, rooted, and immovable. 
 
 The incident was one of those stern les-
 
 THE COUNTESS. 255 
 
 sons of life, which are to be learned on its 
 threshold, when the enthusiasm and self- 
 reliance of youth receive their first check. 
 Depressed a moment, the spirit springs up 
 like a giant to renew its race, only to meet 
 fresh reverses ; and discover the melancholy 
 truth that merit and misfortune are often 
 companions. Such was the conclusion forced 
 upon Esme ; and rising, he returned to the 
 palace a sadder and a wiser man. 
 
 Early on the following morning, he was 
 summoned to attend Bourbon ; and from 
 this moment was constantly in requisition, 
 being engaged in confidential communica- 
 tions with the principal vassals of the Duchy, 
 forwarding the secret levies, and collecting 
 arms and munitions. 
 
 Meanwhile, Bourbon received the most 
 encouraging reports from his adherents in 
 Paris, and everything seemed to augur suc- 
 cess. All at once, however, their letters
 
 256 THE KING AND 
 
 ceased, and the messengers lie dispatched to 
 them, never returned. 
 
 Amidst the alarm arising from these cir- 
 cumstances, he received a citation to appeal- 
 before Francis, for the alleged purpose of 
 having his appeal against Du Prat's judg- 
 ment decided. For no consideration would 
 he thus consent to place himself again in the 
 King's power ; but suspecting a trap for his 
 destruction, and being still unprepared for 
 hostilities, he excused his non-attendance on 
 the ground of illness. Rumours COD firming 
 this statement were industriously circulated ; 
 and to give them an air of credibility, he 
 secluded himself in his chamber, and only 
 appeared abroad under cover of night. 
 
 A fortnight had elapsed, when, as Esme 
 was returning from the Constable's castle of 
 Chantelle, an incident occurred of a more 
 significant character. 
 
 Day was drawing to a close as he entered
 
 THE COUNTESS. 257 
 
 a wood, on the outskirts of the Bourbonnois ; 
 and jaded with hard riding, halted in a 
 little dell, sinking through wooded slopes to 
 a brook. While his horse drank at will of 
 the stream, he sat down on the bank, in- 
 dulging a lover's musings, but which were 
 soon interrupted by a dull, heavy sound, like 
 the tramp of a large body of men ; and, 
 springing up, he climbed the eminence to 
 reconnoitre. 
 
 Screened from view by the thicket, he 
 discerned, at a little distance, a strong 
 brigade of men-at-arms, wheeling into an 
 open space before him. The setting sun 
 was reflected on a forest of glittering lances 
 behind ; and a halt being sounded, the 
 whole area became completely filled with 
 troops. 
 
 A small party of horse drew up close by ; 
 and Esrae perceived, to his surprise, that 
 they were headed by the King.
 
 258 THE KING AND 
 
 " Now, Admiral," said Francis, " I will 
 
 _ 
 
 leave you* to secure the roads ; and La 
 Palise and Lautrec, must scour the country, 
 so as to intercept Bourbon's couriers. I will 
 on to Moulins ; and, I think, we have so 
 laid our toils, that the lion cannot escape 
 us." 
 
 " We shall find, Sire, that he has nothing 
 of the lion, but the skin," said Bonnivet. 
 
 " By my faith, you do him wrong," cried 
 Francis. " Be watchful, or he will even 
 now slip the snare." 
 
 Bonnivet's reply was inaudible ; but Esine 
 had heard enough to apprise him of Bour- 
 bon's danger ; and recovering his horse, he 
 made his way through brake and bush to 
 an open glade, where he pushed forward at 
 the utmost speed, determined to reach 
 Moulins before the King.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 259 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Thou hast prevaricated with thy friend, 
 By under-hand contrivances undone me ; 
 And while my open nature trusted in thee, 
 Thou hast stepp'd in between me and my hopes, 
 And ravish' d from me all my soul held dear. 
 Thou hast betray'd me ! 
 
 HOWE. 
 
 THE Duchess d'Augouleme's suspicion 
 that the sentiments of Francis towards 
 Bourbon had latterly been influenced by 
 his sister, Marguerite, was not without 
 ground. That Princess had undertaken, in 
 the eleventh hour, the task so often fulfilled 
 by Queen Claude, and laboured diligently to 
 reconcile him to his injured subject. 
 
 The time she selected for her mediation
 
 260 THE KING AND 
 
 was most opportune. Bourbon's secret de- 
 parture from Paris had filled the public 
 mind with gloomy forebodings ; the people 
 manifested their sympathy for him in the 
 most open and unequivocal manner ; and at 
 every point the monarch saw danger and 
 alarm. Week after week passed by, and 
 the ferment, instead of abating, increased, 
 while the Constable's protracted stay at 
 Moulins, and evasion of the royal citation, 
 continually gave rise to renewed appre- 
 hensions. 
 
 Such was the state of affairs when the 
 Emperor, Charles the Fifth, received an in- 
 timation that his league with Bourbon had 
 been discovered ; and, misled by this false 
 intelligence, poured an army into Savoy, 
 then occupied by the French, hoping still to 
 take Francis by surprise. England also 
 assumed a menacing attitude ; and began to 
 muster an armament at Portsmouth, under
 
 THE COUNTESS. 261 
 
 the Duke of Suffolk, as an evidence that her 
 hostility would not be confined to threats. 
 
 Francis was not deficient in great quali- 
 ties ; and though, for many years of his long 
 reign, love of ease and abandonment to 
 pleasure, kept them out of view, they were 
 brought into play by the exigencies of the 
 passing crisis. He took instant measures 
 for the defence of the kingdom, and relief 
 of Savoy ; and by means of forced loans, 
 recruited his exhausted exchequer. Prepa- 
 rations were made for war with extraordi- 
 nary diligence and secresy ; and, all being 
 completed, his first care was to secure him- 
 self from domestic commotions. Bourbon's 
 messengers to the metropolis were inter- 
 cepted ; the persons most zealous in his 
 interest thrown into prison ; the frontiers so 
 vigilantly guarded, that he could receive no 
 communications fiorn abroad ; and the army 
 destined for Savoy, headed by Francis him-
 
 262 THE KING AND 
 
 self, was advanced by rapid marches on 
 Moulins. 
 
 But, while adopting these precautions, 
 Francis was not slow to remember that, in 
 such times of peril, Bourbon's arm had 
 hitherto been his staff of support his name 
 the watchword of victory ; and the recol- 
 lection of memorable services, aided by the 
 persuasions of Marguerite, deadened for the 
 moment that jealousy of the Constable's 
 renown, which had first provoked his dislike. 
 He had made him feel his power ; and both 
 policy and inclination now moved him to 
 clemency. At the same time, he resolved to 
 take signal vengeance on St. Vallier, whom 
 Louise and Bonnivet had represented as 
 Bourbon's most active adherent, and, previ- 
 ously to leaving the capital, he issued orders 
 for his immediate trial, directing that no effort 
 should be spared to secure his condemnation. 
 
 In passing up the avenue of Moulins to
 
 THE COUNTESS. 263 
 
 the palace, he saw nothing to intimate that 
 the surprise designed to attend his visit 
 would not have effect. The guard at the 
 vestibule, it is true, turned out at his ap- 
 proach; but this was a courtesy always 
 rendered to strangers of distinction ; and 
 only the usual attendants were collected at 
 the door. He alighted, therefore, in the 
 full persuasion that Bourbon was unprepared 
 for his arrival. 
 
 As his foot touched the ground, the re- 
 port of a cannon boomed overhead. In- 
 stantly, as if by magic, the court before the 
 palace was thronged with armed men ; 
 officers and pages came in troops to the 
 door ; and attendants in sumptuous liveries, 
 crowded the hall. Yet, in this astonishing 
 display, there was nowhere visible the 
 slightest trace of confusion, but every one 
 fell at once into his appointed place, an 
 evidence of the military precision, as well as
 
 264 THE KING AND 
 
 the power of his lord. Francis could not 
 repress an exclamation of amazement, and 
 for the first time hesitated. 
 
 " Sire, you have ventured too far," 
 whispered the Seigneur de Warty, who was 
 one of his train. " You have placed your- 
 self in your enemy's hands." 
 
 " It is too late to repent of it," answered 
 Francis. 
 
 He turned to Bourbon's Chamberlain, who 
 at this moment appeared, and inquired for 
 his master. 
 
 " My lord would be here, Sire, to offer you 
 his duty," replied the Chamberlain ; " but is 
 unhappily prevented by sickness, and sends 
 me to attend you." 
 
 " It would have pleased me better to see 
 himself," replied Francis ; " but lead me to 
 his chamber." 
 
 Bending deferentially, the Chamberlain 
 conducted him to Bourbon's presence.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 265 
 
 The windows, screened by curtains, 
 admitted but a dim light, showing the Con- 
 stable stretched on a bed of state, and 
 wearing every appearance of the illness he 
 feigned. Confinement, indeed, had blanched 
 his cheek ; anxiety and constant application 
 given a haggard look to his once cheerful 
 countenance; and his frame had suffered 
 from neglect. Still his eye retained its 
 haughty glance, and in spite of the imposi- 
 tion he was practising, turned with defiance 
 on Francis. 
 
 "You give me but poor welcome, kinsman," 
 cried the King ; " but I am not the less 
 sorry to find you in this straight." 
 
 "Ah! sire," replied Bourbon, "those 
 gracious words cannot restore me health, 
 though it was your lips took it from me. 
 What welcome can I offer, when I know not 
 but your presence here is to turn me 
 houseless on the world T 
 
 VOL. i. N
 
 266 THE KING AND 
 
 " Perish such a thought !" exclaimed 
 Francis. " It does me foul injustice." 
 
 " Is it not warranted bj what has 
 passed ? Conscience will tell you, sire, that 
 I have no great cause to expect any other 
 result." 
 
 " You speak in anger, cousin. It is true, 
 I have been hasty with you, but, surely, all 
 the fault is not mine. There have been 
 doings on your side also, more than needs be 
 told. But I have not come here to recrimi- 
 nate. Only say, when you appealed against 
 the Chancellor's decree, why did you not 
 wait patiently for my decision V 
 
 " I have already told you, my liege ; and 
 did not lack other reasons, if you wish to 
 know them. Your highness no longer 
 looked on me with favour, and my adversary 
 was your mother. Could a disgraced and 
 fallen man wait for generosity, when denied 
 justice 1"
 
 THE COUNTESS. 267 
 
 "Better do that than foment rebellion, 
 and arm your vassals against your King." 
 
 " Self-preservation owns no laws, sire. I do 
 confess that I have been taking such measures 
 as you hint at, but only to defend my own 
 territories/' 
 
 "Whatever your motive, to levy arms 
 against my authority is treason; and, as 
 such, must be punished." 
 
 " Say you T cried Bourbon, half springing 
 from the bed. 
 
 "Yes, kinsman. And your punishment 
 shall be, that I, your King, against whom you 
 would have rebelled, here and now restore 
 all your possessions, give you back your titles, 
 revenues, and pensions ; and pronounce the 
 
 verdict of the Table of Marble null and void." 
 
 i 
 " My lord, and King!"/ cried Bourbon. 
 
 "Are we friends'?" asked Francis. 
 "Am I not your subject, sire?" said 
 Bourbon, evasively. 
 
 N 2
 
 268 THE KING AND 
 
 "Then you will accompany me into Italy 1 ?" 
 
 " I fear it will be long, before I am equal 
 to such a journey. For what purpose do 
 you go thither 1" 
 
 "Do you not know, then, that the 
 Emperor has violated the treaty of peace, 
 and overrun Savoy?' 
 
 "By my honour, no!" exclaimed Bour- 
 bon, surprised and enraged at the Emperor's 
 precipitation. " Would that I could sit my 
 horse, and he should soon see me in the 
 field." 
 
 " If you would really do me a service, 
 cousin, let the world see that we are recon- 
 ciled. Come with me to the army, though 
 it be in a litter." 
 
 For a moment Bourbon hesitated touch- 
 ed by the King's earnestness, and yielding to 
 the natural generosity of his disposition. 
 But recollecting his wrongs reflecting how 
 deeply he had compromised himself with
 
 THE COUNTESS. 269 
 
 the Emperor and his friends, and remem- 
 bering the uncertainty and fickleness of the 
 King's character, his determination returned. 
 "Alas, sire! at present it is impossible," 
 he replied. " A few days may recruit my 
 strength, and I will then, if it please you, 
 moye by easy stages towards the frontier." 
 
 "Be it so, if it cannot be helped," re- 
 turned Francis, biting his lip. "I shall 
 leave a trusty officer here, to attend you on 
 the way, and will await your coming at 
 Lyons. Now, farewell 1 " 
 
 He extended his hand, which Bourbon 
 would have pressed to his lips, but sud- 
 denly stepping forward, Francis embraced 
 him. 
 
 "Remember!" he then said; and quit- 
 ted the room. 
 
 " Yes, yes, I will remember !" cried Bour- 
 bon, starting up, " And when we next meet, 
 false King ! you, too, shall have a fresher
 
 270 THE KING AND 
 
 memory. I shall not need to tell you what 
 are my grievances/' 
 
 " The present is the moment for action," 
 said the Bishop of Autun, stepping from 
 behind a screen. " When the bird flies in, 
 the fowler closes his net." 
 
 " David did not thus with Saul," answered 
 Bourbon. " No ! he has ventured himself 
 within my doors, and here I must be his 
 protector. But where is my esquire ? With- 
 out, there !" 
 
 Esme, whom he had ordered to be in 
 waiting, immediately appeared. 
 
 " This place cannot be defended, if we 
 should be attacked," Bourbon then said : 
 " so spur back to Chantelle, and see that 
 it is put at once into a good posture. I will 
 follow to-night, if this spy, whom the king 
 has left behind, can be over-reached." 
 
 Replying with a bow, Esnae set forth on 
 his errand.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 271 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Slave, do thine office ! 
 
 Strike as I struck the foe ! Strike as I would 
 Have struck those tyrants ! Strike deep as my curse ! 
 Strike and but once ! 
 
 DOGE OF VENICE. 
 
 THE Court of the Marble Table was again 
 in session. Now, however, it sat with closed 
 doors ; and the great hall, before filled with 
 jewelled dames and gay courtiers, contained 
 only the grave and stern-looking judges, 
 their sombre attendants, and a prisoner. 
 
 The last was a tall, slight man, of vene- 
 rable appearance, and bearing on his fore- 
 head the broad impress of a noble and 
 elevated character. His face was pale, but 
 composed ; his lips were compressed ; and
 
 272 THE KING AND 
 
 he listened with profound attention to the 
 oration of the Procureur de Roi, setting 
 
 ' O 
 
 forth the crime of which he was accused. 
 The arraignment concluded, he was ad- 
 dressed by Du Prat. 
 
 " Count de St. Vallier," said the unprin- 
 cipled Chancellor, "you have heard what 
 weighty matters are alleged against you 
 especially the conspiring with Charles, late 
 Duke de Bourbon, to levy war on the King's 
 grace, and holding treasonable correspond- 
 ence with his perfidious enemy, the Emperor 
 of Germany ; and now I entreat you, for con- 
 science' sake, as these things are incontest- 
 ably true, that you will humbly on your 
 knees acknowledge the same, asking pardon 
 of God and man, that so our Lord the King 
 may be moved, in compassion, to spare your 
 miserable body the mutilation enjoined by 
 the law, when your life is rendered up on 
 the block."
 
 THE COUNTESS. 273 
 
 " Mj Lord," was the firm answer of St. 
 Vallier, " if you can prove me guilty of these 
 heavy charges, I shall have no claim to the 
 King's clemency. But before I am sen- 
 tenced, I must be convicted, and justice will 
 require the clearest evidence. Call your 
 witnesses, then ; and let me hear their 
 testimony." 
 
 " Clerk, read the depositions," cried Du 
 Prat. 
 
 " Nay, nay, my Lord," exclaimed St. 
 Vallier, " I ask for your witnesses, not for a 
 record, whether true or false, of what they 
 have said. I am not to be condemned by 
 hearsay, but tried fairly, legally, and openly. 
 Confront me with my accusers, and I have 
 no fear but I shall prove my innocence. 3 ' 
 
 " The evidence against you is conclu- 
 sive, and indisputable," remarked the Pro- 
 cureur de Roi, " and admits of no question. 
 It is attested by two of your associates, 
 
 N3
 
 274 THE KING AND 
 
 the Seneschal Matignon, and the Seigneur 
 D'Argouges " 
 
 "False traitors, both!" said St. Vallier. 
 
 " Thou art thyself the traitor," interposed 
 Du Prat, with a furious gesture, " and one 
 deserving to die bj the cord, rather than by 
 the headsman." 
 
 "And thou art an upright judge, Sir 
 Chancellor," answered St. Vallier, calmly. 
 
 "These noble gentlemen," pursued the 
 Procureur, resuming his narrative, "each 
 respectively testify that you and others did, 
 in their presence, at a meeting held clandes- 
 tinely at a certain auberge, in the Ville de 
 Paris, plan, arrange, and order a general 
 revolt of the Commons : that on another 
 occasion to wit, the day following, you 
 attended a second secret meeting, held at 
 Montmartre, where you met delegates from 
 the various quarters of the city, and ad- 
 dressed them on the part, and in the name
 
 THE COUNTESS. 275 
 
 of Charles, late Duke de Bourbon, then and 
 there reading a treasonable proclamation 
 from that traitorous and outlawed felon. 
 The said proclamation is now in court." 
 
 " Can you disprove these things 1 " 
 cried Du Prat. " Say, Sir, have we enough 
 treason here for your strong digestion, or 
 shall we look for more 1 " 
 
 " More remains, if it be needed," observed 
 the Procureur. 
 
 " You have yet to make it appear that 
 what is adduced against me amounts to 
 treason," returned St. Vallier. "I confess 
 to having attended the meetings to reading 
 the manifesto ; but deny that we meditated 
 evil against the King. Our design was, 
 first, to assist the Duke de Bourbon in the 
 maintenance of his rights, and, secondly, to 
 pray the King's highness to extend the 
 privileges of the Commons. * My crime can 
 be pushed no further."
 
 276 THE KING AND 
 
 " It goes far enough to carry you to the 
 scaffold," cried Du Prat. "We ask no 
 evidence but your own admissions, and these 
 would condemn you twice over. What is 
 your judgment, my lords \ is the prisoner 
 guilty, or not guilty \ " 
 
 St. Vallier turned an earnest glance on 
 the bench, but saw there no trace of the 
 divine lustre of justice, and he beheld only 
 servile and unscrupulous courtiers, who had 
 mounted the bench of judgment by barter, 
 and converted it into an engine of tyranny 
 and corruption. 
 
 " GUILTY/' said the Judges, with one 
 voice. 
 
 "You hear the verdict, prisoner," said 
 Du Prat : " and the sentence of the Court 
 is, that you be removed to the place from 
 which you came, and that, in three days 
 from this time, you be taken thence to the 
 scaffold, where your head shall be severed
 
 THE COUNTESS. 277 
 
 from jour body your body disembowelled, 
 and cut into four quarters, and a quarter 
 hung up over each barrier of the city. This 
 is your sentence, and now the trial is 
 finished." 
 
 He arose ; and seeing that it would be 
 useless, St. Vallier made no reply, but suf- 
 fered himself to be removed from the dock. 
 
 Immured in the Prison de FAbbaye, in 
 a narrow and low-roofed chamber, grated 
 and barred, and precluded from all inter- 
 course with his friends and the world, the 
 Count did not waste in fruitless repining 
 the few short hours of existence which the 
 iron hand of tyranny had doled out to him. 
 Anticipating condemnation, he had pre- 
 viously put his affairs in proper order; 
 and nothing now remained but to prepare 
 for that valley of the shadow of death, al- 
 ready visible to his mind's eye, and soon to 
 become a reality.
 
 278 THE KING AND 
 
 The fond father, snatched from his loved 
 and loving child the high-minded patrician, 
 contemplating the dishonour of his name 
 the proud and sensitive soldier, awaiting the 
 ignominy of a public execution, he could 
 not but feel acutely all the painful and 
 humiliating circumstances of his miserable 
 fate. His youth of golden promise, his 
 manhood of honourable fame, his revered and 
 tranquil age, on which none could ever cast 
 reproach, were to come to this opprobrious 
 end ! All the great events of his career 
 crowded into minutes, recalling to memory 
 their long-forgotten hopes, fears, and asso- 
 ciations. He saw again, in imagination, 
 his early companions, his martial comrades, 
 his later and more select friends. He 
 thought of his first love, his young and 
 cherished bride, and the sacred pledge of 
 their affection, purchased too dearly with 
 its mother's life. Now that his hours
 
 THE COUNTESS. 279 
 
 his very moments were numbered, how 
 cheerfully could he have met death, restoring 
 him to the fellowship of that dear and 
 lamented being had it not been the death 
 of shame ! 
 
 But these reflections, though continually 
 obtruding, could not divert him from the 
 solemn offices of religion, or the severe self- 
 scrutiny dictated by his situation. He did 
 not attempt to move the clemency of the 
 King, being too surely informed that the 
 Camarilla around him had vowed his des- 
 truction, and that no plea he could urge 
 would prevail against them. Nor would he 
 suffer his daughter, the beautiful Diane, 
 afterwards the far-famed Duchess of Valen- 
 tinois, to share his prison, deferring till the 
 latest moment the sad duty of consoling her, 
 ere he bade her an eternal adieu. 
 
 The last night had arrived; but it brought 
 him no terrors, no vain regrets, no dread of
 
 280 THE KING AND 
 
 the morrow. He felt, in the language of the 
 great contemporary of every age and man, 
 how dull, flat, stale, and unprofitable are all 
 the uses of this world ; he seemed to experi- 
 ence already the divine serenity of the future, 
 awaiting his entry within its portals ; and 
 how could he even fear the reproach of a 
 shameful end, when contemplating the 
 sufferings of his Saviour, whose blood 
 blotted out his transgressions. 
 
 The good Christian, of whatever persua- 
 sion, in those last awful moments, is never left 
 comfortless ; and a small, still voice within 
 soothes, strengthens, and inspires him. As 
 a Catholic, St. Vallier was unacquainted 
 with the sublime consolations of the Scrip- 
 tures, but in receiving the final rites of the 
 Church, a spirit akin to them filled liis 
 heart, making him confident in that won- 
 drous and abiding love for his creatures, 
 declared by the Prophet from God himself,
 
 THE COUNTESS. 281 
 
 " Can a woman forget her sucking child, 
 that she should not have compassion on the 
 son of her womb 1 Yea ; she may forget ; 
 yet will I not forget thee !" Such was the 
 assurance which that night sealed his eyes in 
 a calm and refreshing sleep. 
 
 Morning dawned brightly, and gradually 
 spread forth its most dazzling effulgence, as if 
 to smile on a bridal rather than a scaffold. 
 But as St. Vallier arose, and knelt in prayer 
 before a crucifix, a more shining light beamed 
 in his bosom that of a good man's soul, 
 rising to meet its Maker. 
 
 Suddenly the door opened ; there was a 
 cry of agony ; and Diane, bathed in tears, 
 and with her long hair falling dishevelled 
 over her bosom, threw herself into his arms. 
 Both father and child were silent. 
 
 "My Diane!" exclaimed St. Vallier, at 
 length, " be comforted. We part, but it is 
 not for ever. Something assures me we
 
 282 THE KING AND 
 
 shall meet again, as well as your long-lost 
 mother, where man shall have no power to 
 separate us/' 
 
 " Oh ! where can we fly from the tyranny 
 of man 1 ? cruel, cruel man!" sobbed Diane, 
 clinging closer to his bosom. 
 
 " To God," said St. Vallier, solemnly. 
 
 "I have prayed, and God has not heard 
 me," said Diane "no ! though every word 
 was choked with my tears. My father my 
 dear, dear father is to die to be murdered!" 
 
 " It is His wise providence, and, the good 
 Pere tells us, a seeming calamity often veils 
 a mercy. Let us not murmur, then, my 
 child. Heaven has granted me a long life 
 of prosperity, honour, and happiness ; and 
 though it ends like a criminal's, you will not 
 have to blush for my name. Low as my 
 head will fall, it will not fall unhonoured." 
 
 " My father ! my father ! Oh ! must I, 
 then, be torn from you T
 
 THE COUNTESS. 283 
 
 "Dear child, this is my only sorrow. I 
 bleed more at your tears, than I shall 
 beneath the headsman's axe." 
 
 " Oh ! is it I who wound you ? I who 
 embitter your last sad hours ? Selfish that I 
 am ! but up to this moment, I have hoped to 
 avert my fate hoped to save you, dear 
 father !" 
 
 "How could you so deceive yourself? 
 But you knew not my enemies were so 
 powerful, and so relentless." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! for I besought their mercy as 
 I would God's, on my knees, and with tears ; 
 but in vain. It was my mistress that I 
 relied on. She promised me that you 
 should not die." 
 
 " Dear, noble lady, she would have saved 
 me if she could," cried St. Vallier; "and the 
 thought that I leave you in the care of the 
 good Duchess of Alenon is my dearest 
 consolation. Now, take courage, dear Diane.
 
 284 THE KING AND 
 
 That bell announces the sad moment has 
 come. Let us part." 
 
 As he spoke, his chaplain appeared, 
 followed by the officers of the law ; but the 
 unhappy Diane was unconscious of their 
 presence. Nature had given way before the 
 terrible shock ; and drooping on her father's 
 bosom, she swooned. 
 
 St. Vallier turned one glance on her pale 
 face, kissed her wet and death-like cheeks, 
 pressed her once more to his heart ; and 
 then, with a repressed groan, placed her in 
 the arms of her attendant, who had entered 
 with the others. He seemed shaken, but 
 it was only for a moment, and he imme- 
 diately assumed the same calm look he had 
 worn before. 
 
 Firm and erect, he took his place in the 
 procession which was to escort him to the 
 scaffold. With measured pace it moved 
 through the vaulted passages of the prison,
 
 THE COUNTESS. 285 
 
 reached the massive and frowning gates, and 
 poured into the street. 
 
 Only for the great bell of St. Germain des 
 Pres, which tolled forth at intervals a 
 sonorous knell, the city would have been as 
 still as at midnight. Columns of troops 
 lined the way, as a precaution against rescue, 
 but it seemed unnecessary ; for the shops and 
 marts were all shut, and the streets deserted, 
 save by a few straggling citizens, though 
 crowds of sad faces appeared on the house- 
 tops, and at every window. 
 
 But the scene changed in the Place de 
 Greve, where, reckless of personal danger, a 
 concourse had assembled round the fatal 
 platform. Their voices hushed as the pro- 
 cession was seen to approach ; and when St. 
 Vallier mounted the scaffold, every head was 
 uncovered. Then he felt that the shame 
 and opprobrium of his death rested, not on 
 himself, but on his destroyers.
 
 286 THE KISTG AND 
 
 He knelt down and joined the priest 
 in prayer, all around repeating the re- 
 sponses. Rising, he was accosted by Rouge- 
 Croix. 
 
 " Seigneur, a sad task is imposed upon 
 me," said the herald. " I am to demand 
 from you the collar of Saint-Esprit." 
 
 " It was a reward for good service, but 
 take it," said St. Vallier, removing the de- 
 coration from his neck. 
 
 " I have now to take from you the spurs 
 of knighthood, Seigneur." 
 
 St. Vallier changed colour. " They were 
 said to have been gallantly won," he re- 
 marked ; " and I would fain have died 
 with them on." 
 
 " It cannot be, Seigneur, or I would not 
 have required them from you.' 3 
 
 "Let them go, then," said the Count. 
 
 The spurs were removed ; and he took 
 leave of the priest, and the principal func-
 
 THE COUNTESS. 287 
 
 tionaries around, when the executioner knelt 
 and asked his forgiveness. 
 
 These proceedings were watched by the 
 spectators with the most painful, but intense 
 interest ; and as St. Vallier approached the 
 block, a murmur of sorrow broke from all. 
 It went to the good man's heart ; and, rais- 
 ing his cap, he looked around, and bent his 
 silvered head in gratitude. 
 
 " Farewell, my friends," he said. " May 
 God bless you." 
 
 Again his head was bent, but it was to 
 lay it on the block. The stillness of death 
 pervaded the square. Not a breath seemed 
 drawn not a heart was unmoved not an 
 eye free from tears, but one : St. Vallier's 
 own ! 
 
 There was a low buzz, then a cry, then a 
 cheer, and the word spread, and rose, and 
 rang through the Place, uttered by every 
 voice, bursting from every heart, in one loud,
 
 288 THE KING AND 
 
 long, thrilling shout, "REPKIEVE! REPRIEVE! 
 he is saved ! " 
 
 As the sea opened before the rod of 
 Moses, when the flying Hebrews passed dry 
 shod through its waters, so the multitude 
 fell back ; and a horseman appeared, hold- 
 ing aloft a scroll, which he waved overhead. 
 On he came through the crowd, his steed 
 flaked with foam, till, drawing nearer, he 
 exclaimed, in hurried tones, " Ho, there ! in 
 the King's name ! " 
 
 The scroll was handed to the Intendant, 
 who eagerly tore it open. 
 
 " It is true, Seigneur," he said to St. 
 Vallier, who had stepped up to him. " Your 
 sentence is commuted to imprisonment for 
 life." 
 
 " Be it so," replied St. Vallier, bending 
 his head. 
 
 Marguerite of Valois had kept her word : 
 he was not to die !
 
 THE COUNTESS. 289 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The Tartar lighted at the gate, 
 But scarce upheld his fainting weight ; 
 His swarthy visage spake distress, 
 But this might be from weariness ; 
 His garb with sanguine spots was dyed, 
 But this might be from his courser's side. 
 
 THE GIAOUR. 
 
 DE WARTY, the officer left behind by 
 Francis, had really, as conjectured, been 
 imposed on Bourbon more as a spy than a 
 guide ; and one better qualified for the task 
 could not have been selected. Having 
 posted his attendants in such a manner as 
 to command the various outlets of the 
 palace, he moved from room to room, with a 
 scrutinising eye, observing whatever passed, 
 
 VOL. i. o
 
 290 THE KING AND 
 
 addressing, now and then, a word to the 
 domestics, and letting all understand that 
 the surrounding country was occupied by 
 Francis, and every road guarded. 
 
 Night had set in, when he was attracted 
 by an unusual stir in the hall. Attendants 
 hurried to and fro ; and officers and pages 
 collected in knots, exchanging anxious whis- 
 pers, to which the appearance of Bourbon's 
 physician, hastening past, gave peculiar 
 significance. While De Warty was wonder- 
 ing what had happened, he was surprised to 
 hear his own name pronounced, and found 
 himself confronted by the Chamberlain. 
 
 " Is it possible to overtake the King, Sir ? " 
 the Chamberlain asked. 
 
 " My lord has had a sudden relapse ; 
 and, before he dies, would fain see his high- 
 ness." 
 
 " Is his death so near 1 " inquired De 
 Warty, in amazement.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 291 
 
 " All hope is gone," exclaimed the Cham- 
 berlain. "But if you hasten after the 
 King, he may arrive in time to take leave of 
 him." 
 
 " I am commanded not to leave the 
 palace, unless in his lordship's company," 
 answered De Warty, with sudden suspicion. 
 
 " Then, my lord will be denied his last 
 wish," said the Chamberlain ; " for, I sup- 
 pose, our messenger will meet so many ob- 
 stacles on the road, that he will not reach 
 his highness till it is too late." 
 
 " That may be remedied. Bring him to 
 me, and he shall be furnished with a pass." 
 
 Writing materials were produced, and the 
 important document prepared, while the 
 Chamberlain proceeded in search of the 
 messenger. When he appeared, De Warty 
 beheld a tall, athletic man, having a black 
 patch over his brow, and his face buried in 
 a profusion of beard and whiskers ; but ad- 
 
 o2
 
 292 THE KING AND 
 
 vancing to survey him more closely, the 
 adjacent flambeau, sconced in the wall be- 
 hind, suddenly went out, leaving an imper- 
 fect light, though it seemed sufficient to 
 satisfy his scruples. 
 
 " You will find his highness at Lyons if 
 you ride fast," he said. " This paper will 
 pass you through all the videttes." 
 
 The man made a gruff reply, and mount- 
 ing a charger which waited at the porch, 
 rode off. 
 
 The night was cold and cheerless ; the 
 dark expanse above was unbroken by a 
 single star ; and the wind swept in gusts 
 round the palace, like the meanings of a 
 troubled spirit. Regardless of these things, 
 the horseman dashed across the court, co- 
 vered the long avenue beyond, and gained 
 the road. 
 
 Here he seemed to increase his speed, and 
 the horse's feet barely touched the ground.
 
 THE COUNTESS. 293 
 
 Tall trees, peering through the darkness, 
 flew past like phantoms ; and objects were 
 no sooner seen, than they were left behind. 
 
 Now he mounted a steep hill, and then 
 cleared a valley ; now skirted a champagne, 
 or bleak moor, and, again, pushed through a 
 sleeping village. On, on ! never once check- 
 ing the rein, never once looking round. 
 
 A grey light appeared in the east, spread- 
 ing by imperceptible degrees further and 
 further, till gradually, the full radiance of 
 morning shone forth. 
 
 Bourbon for the horseman was no other, 
 was now entering on a vast plain, where 
 he could just distinguish the lofty donjon of 
 Chantelle ; but when the haven was thus 
 near, his horse dropped from exhaustion. 
 After vainly attempting to raise it, he left 
 the gallant animal on the road, and plunged 
 into a thicket, resolving, as the immediate 
 neighbourhood of the castle would be more
 
 294 THE KING AND 
 
 strictly guarded than the open country, to 
 remain there till nightfall, and then resume 
 his way on foot. 
 
 Some time had elapsed, when he was 
 aroused by shouts, and climbing a tree, dis- 
 covered a troop of cavalry encompassing the 
 wood, and a soldier leading a horse, appa- 
 rently from its limping gait, his own, and 
 which, having been discovered close by, had 
 doubtless pointed out his retreat. Seeing 
 that it would be impossible to pass forth, he 
 remained in the tree, although, as the foliage 
 was very scanty, there was little hope of 
 escaping observation ; and it was clear that 
 the thicket was undergoing a thorough 
 search. 
 
 At this juncture, another squadron of 
 horse was discerned coming from the direc- 
 tion of Chantelle ; and Bourbon perceived 
 that they were led by Esme, who, alarmed 
 that he did not arrive, according to his ap-
 
 THE COUNTESS. 295 
 
 pointment, had sallied out to reconnoitre. 
 Descending from the tree, Bourbon was 
 threading his way towards him, when a voice 
 called to him to stop, and an arrow whizzed 
 past ; but receiving no hurt, he hurried on, 
 and reached the road. Loud acclamations 
 greeted him, and he found himself in the 
 midst of a chosen troop of retainers, ready 
 to die in his defence. 
 
 As he mounted a fresh charger, De Warty 
 rode up. 
 
 "My lord, this is not honourable/' he 
 cried angrily. "You lead me to suppose 
 that you are dying, and then steal privily 
 away. Such a deception is unworthy of 
 you/' 
 
 " The part you play is more degrading, 
 Seigneur," answered Bourbon, contemptu- 
 ously. " War and policy justify stratagem, 
 but a spy is always despicable. Moreover, it 
 is a new thing for me to account for my
 
 296 THE KING AND 
 
 actions, and when called upon for such a 
 
 reckoning, I can only answer with this " 
 
 And he touched his sword. 
 
 " I understand you, my lord. It is need- 
 less to reply to your insinuation ; but you 
 are no doubt aware that I am ordered by 
 the King to attend you." 
 
 " Do not give yourself this trouble any 
 longer. I release you from it." 
 
 " My orders are imperative to conduct 
 your lordship to his highness's presence." 
 
 " What if I refuse to accompany you 1" 
 
 " Then a painful duty will devolve upon 
 me ; and I shall be compelled to attach your 
 person." 
 
 " With your present force, that will be 
 difficult ; and if we come to blows, you are, 
 methinks, more likely yourself to be made 
 prisoner than I am." 
 
 " Your lordship does not mean to resist 
 the King's commands V
 
 THE COUNTESS. 297 
 
 " To the death ! Go tell him so : and if 
 he needs further explanation, let him seek 
 me yonder." 
 
 So saying, he turned away, without heed- 
 ing the remonstrances of De Warty ; and 
 led his followers to Chantelle. Here he was 
 received on the drawbridge by the Seneschal 
 and Wardens, who conducted him into the 
 castle. 
 
 END OP VOL I.
 
 
 
 

 

 
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