CHAPTER IX.
THE REBELLION OF HERODIAS' DAUGHTER
"And I suppose I am to bait the trap, as usual?"
"You forget, Valentine, that I am your uncle and a grandee of Spain."
It was the usual beginning of their quarrels, of which they had had manyas they posted along the Bordeaux road Pariswards. The Marquis Osoriowas travelling on a secret mission to Paris, a mission which had nothingto do with the crowned and anointed King of France, now in uncertainrefuge at Blois.
King Philip had sent for him, and the Demon of the South had been ingood humour when he gave the stout Leonese gentleman his instructions.He had just heard of the Day of the Barricades, and the success of theDuke of Guise.
The Marquis had stood up before the master of two worlds, bronzed, haleand bearded: not too clever, but just shrewd enough to please the King,and certainly indomitable in doing what he was told. He had very muchthe air of a free man and good subject, with his flat travelling cap inone hand and the fingers of the other gripped staunchly about hissword-hilt.
"The iron is hot on the anvil," said the King, "strike, Osorio! It is agood job that the Duke of Err is out of the way. The pressure of thetimes was too much for him. His poor old brain rocked. His Duchess hastaken him off somewhere to feed with spoon-meat. Olivarez, whom I havesent to follow him, will give you no trouble. He will occupy himselfwith King Henri and the Medici woman. The League and Guise--these areyour game--especially Guise. I suspect him to be a wind-bag, but put himunder your arm, and the wind in him will bravely play our music, like apair of Savoyard bagpipes. And hark ye, Osorio, listen to the Jesuitfathers, especially Mariana--a very subtle man, Mariana, after mine ownheart. And also (here he sank his voice to something mysterious), aboveall take with you your--your niece--Valentine?"
"Valentine la Nina!" ejaculated the King's representative, with a quick,startled look at his master.
"Even so," said Philip, casting his eyes through the slit behind thehigh altar of the Escorial to see what the priests were doing; "even so;our Holy Mother Church is in danger, and if any love father or mother,son or daughter more than her, he is not worthy of her!"
So by royal command Valentine la Nina rode northward with her uncle, andthough these two loved one another, they wrangled much by the way.
Claire and her cavalcade were reaching Blois, when the uncle and nieceentered Angers by the Long Bridges of Ce.
The cause of the girl's outbreak of petulance had been a harangue of theenvoy, in which he had explained, amongst other things, the reasons forkeeping their mission a secret. The King of France must not hear of it,because their Philip did not want to show his hand. Henry of Navarremust not hear of it, or he might send men to harry the Cerdagne andAran. Besides, what was the use of making a show in Paris, when thevery shop-tenders and scullions there played King Philip's game? Wasnot the Sorbonne packed with wise doctors all arguing for Spain? Wildmonks and fanatic priests proclaimed her as the only possible saviour ofthe Faith. At the back of Guise stood King Philip. Remained therefore(according to the envoy) to push Guise forward, to use him, to emptyhim, and then--let the Valois and the Medici have their will of him.There was no reason for Spain to appear in the matter at all. Guise mustbe induced to go to Blois, and--his enemies would do the rest.
It was then that Valentine la Nina burst forth in indignation.
She would not be the lure, she said, even for a king--a bait dangledbefore an honest man's eyes--no, not even for her uncle!
"I am an Osorio," the envoy answered her sternly, "the head of thefamily, you can surely trust me that nothing shall be asked of you whichmight cast a stain on the name----"
"Not more than was asked of my mother!" she retorted scornfully, "onlyto sacrifice herself and her children--a little thing for so good aking--his people's father!"
"And for the Faith!" said the Marquis, hastily, as if to escapediscussion. "Listen, Valentine! The famous Father of the Gesu, Mariana,will be in Paris before us. He has been reporting to the King, and he itis who has asked for your presence. None can serve the Church so well asyou."
"I know--I know," cried the girl, "fear not, I have been well drilled.My mother taught me that the whims of men were to be called either highpolicy or holy necessity. It little matters which; women have to besacrificed in either case. Let us ride on to Paris, Uncle Osorio, andsay no more about it!"
They lighted down in the empty courtyard of the Spanish ambassador'shouse, which was next to the hotel of the Duke of Guise. A shoutingcrowd had pursued them to their lodging. For the Spaniards were popularin the city, and the arrival of so fine a cavalcade had rightly enoughbeen interpreted to mean the adherence of Philip of Spain to the neworder of things.
"Had Spain been for the King, this envoy would have hied him to Blois,"said De Launay, the old provost of the merchants. "But since Philipsends his ambassador direct to the good city of Paris, why, then, itfollows that he is of the mind to put down Valois, to set aside Navarre,and to help us to crown our only true king, the King of Paris and ofFrance, the King of the Faith, and of his people's hearts--Guise, thegood Guise!"
Because, even thus early, the habit of municipal eloquence had beenformed and its pattern set for all the ages. De Launay was considered agood practitioner.
The windows of Valentine Osorio's chambers looked on the garden of theHotel of Guise--a shady orchard close where in the evening the Dukeoften walked with his gentlemen, and specially with his handsome youngbrother, the Duke of Bar.
On an evening of mackerel cloud, pearl-grey and flaky gold vaulting sohigh overhead that the sky above the small smokeless Paris of 1588seemed infinite, Valentine sat gossiping with her maid Salome.
To them, with the slightest preface of knocking, light as a bird,entered a priestly figure in the sombre robes of the Society of Jesus--alittle rosy-cheeked man, plump and dimpled with good living, and, as itseemed, good nature.
But at the sight of him a nervous shudder passed through the body of theyoung girl. So in a school, when the master returns before his time,playing scholars draw unwillingly with downcast, discontented eyes tosterner tasks. Yet the Jesuit was kindly and tolerant in manner,prodigal of smile and compliment. There was nothing of the Inquisitorabout the famous father Mariana, historian and secret politician.
"Fairer than ever, Mistress Valentine," he murmured, after he hadexchanged a glance with the maid Salome, "ah, the blessed thing which isbeauty when used for sanctified ends! Seldom is it thus used in thisworld of foolish women! But you are wise. The Gesu are under deepobligations, and the King--the King--ah, he will not forget. He has sentyou hither, and has commissioned me to speak with you. Your good, yourexcellent uncle, Osorio, knows some part of King Philip's plans, but notall--no, not all. He is too blunt an instrument for such fine work. But_you_ can understand, and shall!"
The girl struck her hands together angrily and turned upon him.
"Again--again!" she said, "is it to be treachery again?"
"Not treachery, dear lady," cooed the father; "but when you go to tickletrout, you do not stand on the bank and throw in great stones. You worksoftly underneath, and so guide the fish to a place from which theycannot escape."
"Is it Guise?" demanded the girl, breaking fiercely through these dulcetexplanations.
"As you say," smiled the Jesuit; "himself and no other."
"And what is to be my particular infamy?"
"Child, beware of your speech," said the Jesuit; "there is no infamy inthe service of Holy Church, of the Society, and of your King."
"To a well-known air!" said the girl, sneeringly; "well, I will sing thesong. I know the music."
And she went and placed herself by the window which overlooked thepleasaunce of the Duke of Guise.
"Salome," she said, "come hither and comb out my tresses!"
And with the graceful ease of strong young arms, she pulled out atortoise-shell pin here and a mother-of-pearl fastening there till aflood of hair escaped, falling down her back, with dark, cop
pery lightsstriking out of the duskier coils, and the lingering sunset illuminatingthe ripples of fine-spun gold.
"Thus goes the exercise," she said with a cold anger, "the Holy Societytrains us well. But for this, and all else, God will enter into judgmentwith you and your like!"
But, heedless of her words, the priest was already stooping and peeringbehind the curtain.
"There they go," he whispered eagerly, "Guise and Mayenne together, Barand the Cardinal behind--ah, there, it takes! Gripped--netted--what didI tell the King? He has his kerchief out. Quick, Valentine, yours! What,you have left it behind? Here is mine. Twice--I tell you, twice--andyour hand upon your heart. Ah, he salutes! He will soon call upon theenvoy of the King of Spain now. I wager we shall have him here in themorning before breakfast! Ah, what news this will be to send by thecourier to-night to your--to King Philip! He will sleep sound, Iwarrant. And remember, to-morrow, speak him fair when he comes. Alldepends on that. I shall not be far away. I shall know and report to theKing. It shall not be well with you otherwise. Guise must go toBlois--to the King of France. He must take his gentlemen with him. Nosulking in his own territories. To Blois, and face it out--like a man."
The girl rose from the window and came back into the chamber. She openedthe door, and with a gesture of proud weariness indicated the darkcorridor without.
"Your turn is served," she said, "now go!"
But Mariana, a cunning smile on his face, held out his hand.
"Give me first my kerchief!" he said.
The girl crushed the embroidered linen into a ball in her hand, holdingit at her side and slightly behind. Then she threw it out of the windowwith a gesture of contempt. The next moment the door slammedunceremoniously in Father Mariana's face. But the church historian wasnot in the least put out. He laid his finger slowly to the side of hisnose and smiled stilly.
He descended the stairs to the entresol, and there from a window whichoverhung the court he looked forth in time to see the Duke of Guisestooping to pick up something white from the ground.
He saw him kiss it and thrust it into the breast of his black velvetdoublet.
And the worthy Jesuit chuckled softly, saying to himself, "There arethings in this world which are cheap even at the loss of my bestbroidered kerchief!"
* * * * *
As Mariana had foretold, the Duke of Guise and his brother the young DeBar called upon the Marquis Osorio the following day. That morning theDuke had made the life of his valet a burden to him while dressing, andhe now appeared gorgeous in a suit of dark blue velvet trimmed with goldlace. A cape of silk was over one arm, and he carried Mariana'sembroidered kerchief carefully in his hand.
In his most stately fashion the Marquis Osorio received the head of theLeague. He presented his credentials as to a reigning monarch, and beganto talk of revolutions of Holy Church, concerning the culpable laxnessof the Pope in his own interests, and the fidelity of the King of Spainto his ideals and to his allies. It was evident, however, that Guisepaid but scant heed. His ears were elsewhere. As for De Bar, he staredinsolently about him, now at the ambassador, now at the tapestry on thewalls, and again and most often out at the window. But his brotherlistened, almost without disguise, to a slight noise, which cameoccasionally into the room from without. There was, for instance, therustling of a woman's silken robe in the passage. Voices also, thatsounded faint, pleading, expostulatory, cut into the even rise and fallof Castilian diplomacy.
"For these reasons my royal master judged it expedient to send me as hisrepresentative, charged with----"
Guise twisted impatiently this way and that in his black oaken chair, invain efforts to catch what was going on outside. De Bar observed hisbrother's uneasiness, and as the Lorraine princes went at that time inconstant fear of assassination, it did not cost him two thoughts, evenin the house of the Spanish ambassador, to rise and throw the door wideopen.
Then through the wide Romanesque arch of the audience chamber ValentineOsorio entered, as a queen comes into a throne room.
At sight of her the envoy stayed his speech to make the presentation inform. Guise instantly dropped all interest in the goodwill of KingPhilip and his views upon state policy. He crossed over to thewindow-seat, where Valentine had seated herself.
Mariana had followed, and the next moment the Marquis resumed hisinterrupted speech, addressing himself to the Jesuit and De Bar, whoseears were rigid with listening to what was going on in the window, butwho feared his brother so much that he dared not follow his movementswith a single lift of his eyelids.
"My lady," said Guise, as he stood before Valentine, "I judge that Ihave the privilege of restoring to you a kerchief which you dropped byaccident last night into my garden--we are neighbours, you know."
Valentine la Nina did not flush in the least. She said only, "It is noneof mine. If you will throw it behind the curtain there, my maid Salomewill see that it goes to the wash."
Guise stood staring at her, internally fuming at his own stupidity inthus attempting to force the situation.
Valentine la Nina was dressed in a vaporous greenish lawn, which addedvalue to the clearness of her skin, the coiled wealth of her fair hair,and the honey-coloured eyes which looked past the great Duke as if hewere no more than a pillar between her and the landscape.
Manifestly Guise was piqued. He was a man of good fortunes, and of latethe Parisians had spoiled him. He was quite unaccustomed to be treatedin this fashion.
"Countess," he said at last, after long searching for a topic, "I amfrom the north and you from the south. Yet to look at us, it is I who amthe Spaniard and you the Frank!"
"My father was a Flamand!" said Valentine la Nina calmly.
"And, may I ask, of what degree?"
"Of a degree higher than your own!" said Valentine, turning her greateyes indolently upon him.
Guise looked staggered. He had not supposed that the world held anysuch.
"Then he must have been a reigning prince!" he stammered.
"Well?" said Valentine, looking at him with direct inquiry.
"I had not understood that even so ancient a house as the Osorios----"
"I never said that my father was an Osorio!"
"Ah!" said the Duke, "then I ask your pardon. I was indeed ignorant."
He scented mystery, and being a plain, hard-hearted, cruel man of thetime, thrust into a commanding position by circumstances, he resentedbeing puzzled, like a very justice of the peace.
"If you do not believe me----" Valentine began.
"Most noble princess," he protested, bending nearer to her as she sat onthe low seat looking straight up at him; "not once have I dreamed----"
"Go to my native country of Leon and ask the first gentleman you meetwhether Valentine la Nina be not the honest daughter of a king. Only donot, if you value your life, express such disbelief as you did just now,or the chances are that you will never again see fair Lorraine!"
She looked about her. What she had expected all along had happened. Theywere alone. By some art of the Jesuit father, subtly piloting the courseof events, Osorio had gone to the private parlour to find certainpapers. Mariana and De Bar had followed him.
Instantly the girl's demeanour changed. Half rising, she reached out herhand and clutched the astonished Guise by the cuff of his black velvetsleeve.
"Do not trust the King of France," she whispered, "do not put yourselfin the power of the King of Spain. Do not listen to my uncle, Osorio,who does his bidding. Keep away from Blois. Make yourself strong in yourown territories--I, who speak, warn you. There is but a hair's breadthbetween you and death. Above all, do not listen to Mariana the Jesuit.Do not believe him on his sworn oath. His Order seeks your death nowthat you have served their turn, and--I do not wish harm to come to abrave man."
Had Valentine's eyes been upon the door she would have seen it openslightly as if a breeze were pushing it.
"And pray, princess," said Guise, smiling, well content, "would it bethe act of a
brave man thus to shun danger?"
"The lion is not the braver for leaping into the prepared pit with hiseyes open. He is only foolish!"
Guise laughed easily.
"If I were to take you at your word, princess," he said, "I should hearno more of you in my dull Lorraine. I could not carry you off to cheerme at Soissons. But here in Paris I may at least see you daily--hearyour voice, or if no better, see you at the window as I walk in mygarden----"
"Ah," cried Valentine, thrusting out her hand hastily, palm outward, "donot think of me. I am but the snare set, the trap baited. I am not myown. I can love no man--choose no man. I belong to Those Unseen----"
She cast her hand backward towards Spain, as if to indicate infinitemalign forces at work there. "But I warn you--get hence quickly, avoidBlois. Do not trust the King, nor any king. Do not listen to my uncleOsorio, and, above all, do not listen to Mariana the Jesuit."
And with a rapid rustle of light garments she was gone. Guise attemptedto take her hand in passing, but it easily evaded him. Valentinevanished behind the arras, where was a door which led directly to thewomen's apartments.
A moment Guise stood pulling at his moustache sourly enough, ruminatingon the warning he had received and, in the sudden disappointment, halfinclined to profit by it. To him entered the Jesuit, smiling and dimpledas ever.
"My Lord Duke, I find you alone," he began courteously, "this is illtreatment for an honoured guest. Permit me----"
"That lady," demanded Guise, brusquely, "who is she?"
"The niece of the Marquis Osorio," murmured the Jesuit, "my old scholar,dear to me as the apple of mine eye, almost a daughter."
"Is she of royal blood?" said Guise, who, though he had to be upon hismanners with Valentine herself, saw no reason for mincing matters with amere Jesuit scribbler.
"As to that it were well to consult her uncle," said Mariana, verysoftly, "we of the Society do not concern ourselves with matters purelysecular. In any case, be assured that the family honour is quite safe inthe Marquis's hands!"
"I did not doubt it," said Guise, tossing his silken cape over his armand evidently about to take flight. Mariana accompanied him to the footof the stairs, murmuring commonplaces, how that there would likely be athunderstorm which would clear the air, and that he would take it uponhim to make the adieux of his Grace of Guise to the Marquis Osorio, hisgood friend and kinsman.
But just at the last he glided in his dart.
"And by the way, we may not see you again, unless you too are goingsouth. We start to-morrow for the Blois, where the Queen Mother holdsher court. She has written most graciously to the Countess Valentineoffering her hospitality, and the gaiety which young folk love, amongher maids of honour!"
And as he tucked up his soutane in order to remount the stairs, theJesuit chuckled to himself. "And that, I think, will do--if so be I knowthe blood of the breed of Guise!"
The White Plumes of Navarre: A Romance of the Wars of Religion Page 10