CHAPTER XXVII.
SECOND COUNCIL OF WAR
"You are late, Count Raphael," said a tall lady, presiding over a littlegathering of men and women in the upper hall of the Castle of Collioure.The Duchess of Err was a Spanish lady who had dwelt some time at theCourt of Paris in the time of Francis II. and Mary of Scotland. And eversince she had posed as one who could innovate if she would, so that theancient customs of Spain would not know themselves again when she haddone with them. As, however, she took good care to keep this carefullyfrom King Philip's ears, nothing very remarkable came of it.
But, nevertheless, the Duchess of Err had a certain repute fororiginality and daring, which served her as well then as at any otherperiod of the world's history. Her husband accompanied her, but as thatdiplomatist "abode in his breaches" and confined his intercourse withthose around to asking the major-domo once a day what there was fordinner, his influence on his wife was not great. His trouble was spokenof, leniently, as "a touch of the sun."
"Our host comes from a rendezvous, doubtless," put in the CountessLivia, with a bitter intention, glancing, as she did so, at afair-haired girl with wide-open eyes who sat listless and very quiet atthe seaward window. A priest, playing chess with a robust,country-faced man, looked up quickly from his ivory pieces. But the girlsaid nothing, and Raphael Llorient was left to answer for himself.
This he did by turning towards her who had not spoken, or even looked inhis direction.
"Mademoiselle Valentine," he said, "will you not defend a poor man who,having but one vineyard, must needs sometimes trim and graft with hisown hands?"
Momentarily, the girl rested her great eyes, of the greenish amber ofpressed clover honey, full upon him. Her face was faintly flushed likethe blonde of meadow-sweet, but quite without pink in the cheeks. Herlips, however, were full, red, and more than a little scornful.
"The Lord of Collioure can surely please himself as to his comings andgoings," she said; "for the rest, is not my ghostly uncle here toconfess him, if such be his need?"
"Valentine la Nina," cried the Duchess, "is there nothing in the worldthat will make you curious? Only twenty-five, and reputed the fairestwoman in Europe. Yet you have outlived the sin of Eve, your mother! Itis an insult against the laws of your sex. What shall we do to her?"
"Make her confess to her uncle," said the Countess Livia, who also nevercould forgive in any woman the offence-capital of beauty.
"My niece Valentine has her own spiritual adviser," said the priest,looking up from his game, with a smile which had enough of curiosity init to make up for his niece's lack of it. "A Pope may, if he will,confess his nephews, but a poor Brother of the Society had betterconfide the cure of his relatives' souls to the nearest village priest.Otherwise he might be suspect of conspiring against the good of thestate. The regular clergy may steal horses, while a Jesuit may not evenlook over the wall!"
The ladies rose to say good-night. Like a careful host, Raphael tookfrom the table a tall candelabra of two branches, in order to conductthem severally to the doors of their apartments. The Duchess of Errconveyed away her husband with her, holding up her long silken trainwith one hand and giving the ex-diplomat a push on before her with theother, as often as he needed it. The Duke had forgotten that he had oncealready partaken of supper, and craved another. He even shed a fewtears. Yet he had his good points. His emotion showed a sympatheticnature, and besides, the ladies were there under his escort andprotection. The Duchess said so, so it must be true. Meantime, however,she propelled him to bed.
The Countess Livia gave Raphael her hand to kiss, saying at the sametime, "To-morrow I will find your village maid for you!"
On the way the Duchess divided her attention between making sure thather husband took the right turning in the long corridors of the castleof Collioure, and reproaching Raphael for not building a new and elegantchateau "after the manner of Chenancieux or Cour Chevernay--light,dainty, fit for a lady's jewel-case."
At this Raphael laughed, and, holding the candelabra high in his hand,begged them to look up and mark upon the lintels of the narrow windowsthe splintering of the cannon shots and the grooves made by the inrushof the arbalast bolts.
"My Lady Duchess," he answered, "I would be glad to do yourbidding--first, if I had the security; second, if I had the river;third, if I had the money. But I have no money, alas, save what Igather hardly enough from my vines and the flocks on the hillside yonder(see that faithful man guarding my interests--I never had a herder likehim). Besides, I am here between three fires, or it may be four--ourgood King Philip, the step-father of his people, the King of France, theBearnais, and, may be before long, the Holy League also. Bullets maysoon be whistling again at Collioure, as they have whistled before, andI would rather that they encountered these ten-foot walls, and mortar ofexcellent shell-lime, than the moulded sugar and plaster of theseladies' toys along the Loire!"
"Ah, you will not move with the times!" cried the Duchess, propellingher husband severely into his dressing-room to make sure that he, atleast, moved with the times--a little faster even--"if you had been aslong in France as I--well, but there--I forgive you. You are a goodCatholic, and a subject of King Philip. Therefore you cannot help it,and our lord the King sees to it that you have something else to do withyour money than to build castles wherein to entertain ladies.Sea-castles for the English robber dogs to batter with shot, andland-castles to hold down the Hollander frontier, are much more to hisliking!"
At this point the Duke of Err created a diversion by turning in histracks at the sight of the dark sleeping-chamber, through the openwindow of which came the light sap and clatter of the sea on the beachfar below.
"My supper--my supper!" he muttered; "I want to go to the supper-room!"
The Duchess was not a lady of lengthy patience, and domestic mannerswere simple in those days. She merely gave the ex-diplomatist a soundbox on the ear, and bade him get into bed at once.
"It takes all his family just like that before the age of fifty," shesaid; "I am a woman much to be pitied, with such a babe on my hands.Good-night, Don Raphael; you must build me that chateau to comfort me assoon as the wars are over----"
"When God wills, and the purse fills!" said the Lord of Collioure,bowing to the ground.
A little farther along the corridor they came to the chambers of theCountess Livia and the niece of the Jesuit doctor. The Countess, withher eyes on her companion, gave Raphael her fingers to kiss, butValentine la Nina swept past both with the slightest bow.
"No man can serve two masters," said the Countess, smiling after herwith meaning; "you must give up your shepherdess!"
"What do you mean?" Raphael demanded, in a low tone.
"My brother Paul will tell you to-morrow, when he comes back fromPerpignan. He, too, was on the hillside to-day--near to the valley----"
She paused long enough to give him time to ask the question.
"What valley?" said Raphael, in complete apparent forgetfulness.
"The Valley of the Consolation! An excellent name!" answered theCountess Livia, with a low laugh of malice.
She turned and went within. She found Valentine la Nina standing by theopen window looking out upon the sea. Her large, amber-coloured eyeswere now black and mysterious. She did not show the least trace ofemotion. She was as one walking in a dream, or perhaps, rather, like oneupheld by a will not her own.
The Countess Livia looked at the girl awhile, and then, with a vexedstamp of her foot, she pulled Valentine round, so that the light of thelamp fell on her face.
"Oh!" she cried, "was there ever a woman like you? As the Duchess said,you care for nothing. You are the most beautiful girl in the world, andit is nothing to you. No wonder a dairy-maid can supplant you. Why, if Ihad a tenth of your beauty--I would have kings and emperors at my feet!"
Valentine la Nina looked at her without smiling, or the least show offeeling.
"It is likely," she said; "you are free, I am bound. When I receive myorders, I shall obey t
hem."
"You are a strange creature," cried the Countess. "Orders--who is tocommand you? Bound--what chains are there that a suitable marriage willnot break?"
"Those!" said Valentine la Nina, opening her robe at the throat, andshowing to the astonished eyes of the Countess Livia the black crucifixand the hair shirt of discipline.
The White Plumes of Navarre: A Romance of the Wars of Religion Page 28