Lord Montagu's Page: An Historical Romance

by G. P. R. James

  CHAPTER XV.

  It was late in the afternoon of a bright, warm day, when three strangersto the city of Nantes took their way across the magnificent Cour St.Pierre,--one of the most beautiful public places in Europe,--somewhathurrying their pace when they saw the number of gay groups with whichthat part of the town was crowded.

  "This way,--this way, sir," said the seemingly tall, lean peasant, whocarried a good-sized bundle on his arm. "I know the house exactly; andthe sooner we are out of this the better."

  "On my soul, a pretty little wench!" exclaimed one of a group ofgay-looking gallants who were lounging about at the upper end of thesquare. "Let us take her from that young boor. My pretty maid, will youhonor some poor gentlemen with your company to take a cool glass ofwine?"

  "Stand out of the way, sir, and let my sister pass," said EdwardLangdale, in French, speaking as coolly as he could, for he knew thedanger of a brawl in that place and at that moment.

  "Ha!" said the other, with a cool stare: "though you speak mighty goodFrench for a peasant of the Marais, yet I think we shall have to teachyou some better manners, boy. Do you presume to push against agentleman? This must give you a lesson." And he raised the cane hecarried, as if to apply it to Edward's shoulders.

  The lad's hand was instantly on the dagger concealed under the flaps ofhis broad-cut brown coat. But he had no occasion to use it; for, at thevery moment when blood was on the point of being shed, a man ofgentlemanly appearance, dressed altogether in black and without anyarms, stepped in between Edward and his antagonist, saying, in a deeptone, "Hold!"

  The uplifted cane had nearly descended upon his head; but the moment theyoung coxcomb beheld the face of the intruder his countenance changed,the color came into his face, and he turned the descending blow away,though he could not stop it entirely.

  "I have seen all that has passed, Monsieur des Louches," said thestranger in black: "be so good as to retire into the chateau. HisMajesty, as you know, is determined to stop all insolent brawls. It willbe my duty to report your conduct to these two young people as soon as Ireturn; and you shall hear the result."

  The young gentleman said something about his only having said a word ortwo to some peasants of the Marais; but the other cut him short,observing that the treatment of the peasantry by the _petite noblesse_was at that very time attracting the royal attention.

  "Petite noblesse, sir! Petite noblesse!" cried Monsieur des Louches,with a face as red as fire: "do you call me of the petite noblesse?"

  "Certainly," replied the other; "but, as you do not retire as I havetold you, it will be better that you should go in a different manner.Guard!" And he raised his hand toward the bridge of the chateau, wheretwo or three of the king's soldiers were standing.

  Two of the guard instantly ran up; but, before they arrived, Monsieurdes Louches was moving sullenly toward the gate, and the stranger inblack, without taking any further notice of him, turned to those who hadgathered round, saying, "Have the goodness to disperse, gentlemen. Iwill take care of these young people."

  The gay gallants of the French court might possibly have indulged insome merriment at the expense of the elderly gentleman who had taken ayoung girl out of their companion's hands; but there were at that momentsome sinister rumors hovering about the city of Nantes, which a gooddeal depressed the courtly circle, although the courtiers endeavoredstill to keep up an air of sprightly carelessness, and sometimes,probably, overacted their part in public. On the present occasion,however, they dispersed quietly, one giving the good-day to the strangerby the name of Monsieur Tronson. As soon as the rest had passed away,the face of the stranger cleared, and, looking at Edward and Lucettewith a good-humored smile, he asked, "And now, young people, where is ityou want to go to?"

  "To the Auberge du Soleil," answered Edward, using as few words aspossible, for he remembered, perhaps a little too late, that hislanguage and his dress did not correspond, and that, though his garb wasthat of the Marais, his tongue was not at all imbued with the jargon ofits inhabitants.

  Monsieur Tronson took no notice, however, and said he would show themhow to find it; but, in walking slowly and soberly along, he began tochat about many things, asked if ever they had been in Nantes before,and not only proposed to show them some of the objects most worthy ofattention in the place, but actually, as he admitted, led them a littleout of their way to point out the crosses of Lorraine which had beenscattered over one of the faces of the chateau when it was in the handsof the League. The cathedral, too, with its stunted towers and giganticnave, he must needs show them; and he asked so many questions, waitingfor replies, that both Edward and Lucette were forced to speak much moregood French than was at all desirable.

  At length a slight twinkle in their good companion's eye, and a littlecurl of the upper lip, led Master Ned to the complete certainty thatthey were discovered; and, taking a moment when M. Tronson, who seemedto be determined to know the whole party, was speaking with Pierrot,Edward suddenly bent down his head and whispered a few words in Englishto Lucette. "We are discovered, I fear," he said. "If any questions areasked, remember the words of the safe-conduct I showed you: tell how wewere stopped in trying to quit Rochelle, and say that when the abbey wasburned we escaped in a boat as best we could and came on here."

  Lucette was about to remind him that she could no longer pass for thepage named in the safe-conduct; but Monsieur Tronson finished his briefconversation with Pierrot and turned to the young people again, saying,with his placid air, "Now we will turn this way, and you will soon be atyour resting-place. So I suppose you two are the children of some goodrich proprietors of the Marais, and have got leave to come and see theworld now the court is at Nantes?"

  "No, sir, we are not," answered Edward, with perfect calmness; for hehad now determined upon his course.

  "Then, in Heaven's name, what are you, young people?" asked theircompanion. "Yours are not peasants' manners, nor peasants' tongues; butlet me tell you that it is somewhat dangerous to be masquerading herejust now."

  "Very likely, sir," replied Edward; "but we shall not masqueradelong,--if we are doing so at all. As to who we are, I shall have toexplain that to a very high personage shortly, and to ask him if he willsuffer his name and handwriting to be set at naught. I shall not showhim so little respect as to talk to any one else about the affair beforeI talk to him, as I must see him, if possible, before I quit Nantes."

  "You are discreet," said M. Tronson, leading the way through a streetwhich ran down to the Loire at the back of the chateau. "There, whereyou see that tall pole and bush, is the Soleil; but, if you would takemy advice, you would choose another auberge. That is not fit for yourstation; and, besides," he added, with a shrewd smile, "you will findnobody there who speaks any thing but the _patois des Marais_; and Isuspect that would puzzle you."

  Edward persisted, however, and the next moment their companion stoppedat the door of a heavy stone house of small size, the back of which musthave nearly touched the ditch of the old castle. "Here I stop," he said:"you see the inn. Good-evening."

  They gladly bade him adieu, and hurried on down the street, Pierrotthanking Heaven that they had got so well out of his clutches. "He is aspy, I am sure," said Pierrot; "but, if we order the coach we weretalking of, to be at the door by daybreak, we can get through the gatesand be off before he has time to get his orders."

  "His orders from whom?" demanded Edward, in some surprise.

  "From the cardinal, to-be-sure," replied the other. "Do you not knowthat----" But by this time the three had reached the door of the Aubergedu Soleil, and Edward had paused, not at all satisfied with the look ofthe place. There was an air, not exactly of discomfort, but of loose,disorderly carelessness about it which pained him to think of inconnection with Lucette. She herself entered the passage without a word,but she looked sad and, as it were, bewildered; and the sallow walls,the dirty tiles of the floor, and various noises of singing and riotfrom neighboring rooms, did not serve to reassure her. Edward was at herside
in a moment, and, laying his hand gently upon her arm, he said,"Lucette, this will not do. We must seek some other place."

  The appearance of the landlord, who now presented himself, was not atall calculated to change this resolution; and, as he was somewhatinclined to be uncivil when he found that his guests were likely to goelsewhere, Edward left him to the management of Pierrot, and turnedtoward the door. There, however, he found, looking in, a servant in thelivery of the court, with two men in military garb; and the formerimmediately saluted him civilly, saying, "I am ordered by my master torequest your presence with the young lady and your servant."

  "And who may be your master?" asked Edward, not at all liking the lookof the guard.

  "Monsieur Tronson, sir, secretary of the king's cabinet," replied theman.

  "It is enough, sir," replied Edward: "we will accompany you if you willlead the way."

  The servant bowed, and preceded them, and the two guards followed; butnow Lucette and Edward found the great advantage of speaking twolanguages. Few were the minutes which they had to spare; but those fewminutes were filled with words upon which, though their companionscomprehended them not, depended their safety, and perhaps the life ofone of them.

  "We shall assuredly be asked, dear Lucette," said Edward, "how you camefirst to travel with me as a page, and since then have resumed yourwoman's apparel. May I, dear girl, say, in case of need, that we soughtto be married in a foreign land because our friends at home thought ustoo young? Your liberty and my life may be perilled by any othercourse."

  "Yes, say so; say so," replied Lucette. "Good Clement Tournon told metwice that if the Catholics caught me they certainly would shut me up ina convent till I adopted their faith."

  "But what name shall I give you?" asked the youth, just as they reachedthe door of the house into which M. Tronson had turned.

  "Call me Lucette de Mirepoix," answered the young girl: "it is one of mynames, so that I have a right to take it."

  "This way, sir," said the valet: "Monsieur Tronson is in the castle."And, passing the door, he led the way through a narrow building whichfrom the street seemed like an ordinary dwelling-house, but which inreality was merely a sort of outwork of the chateau, with which it wasconnected by a bridge over the fosse.

  Edward saw the two guards following; but he merely said, with a coldair, "Are you taking us to prison, sir?"

  "No, monsieur; I am taking you to Monsieur de Tronson," replied thevalet. "Please to step into this room." By this time they had passed thebridge and had taken some half-dozen steps along a dark passage throughthe thicker part of the outer walls; and, as the man spoke, he openedthe door of a small room with one of those deep windows which almostformed another chamber within the first. The room was quite vacant, and,as soon as the travellers had entered, the servant left them with thedoor partly open, showing them the soldiers without as if upon guard.Poor Lucette trembled a good deal, but she lost not her presence ofmind; and another hasty consultation took place between herself, Edward,and Pierrot, in the course of which their plans were finallysettled,--as far as any plans can be settled when the events againstwhich they are provided are still uncertain. They remained undisturbedfor some five minutes, and then the servant reappeared with someglasses, a bottle of apparently very old wine, and a page carrying somecakes and comfits on a salver. These were hardly placed on the tableand some seats drawn round, when Monsieur de Tronson himself appearedwith a smiling countenance, and desired his young friends to sit down,as if they were honored guests. "Retire, and wait without," he added,turning to the valet and page: "we can serve ourselves. Take that goodman with you, and see that he be well attended to. Now, Monsieur Apsley,have the kindness to taste this wine after I have helped the young lady,and tell me whether you could find any as good at the poor littlecabaret where you were inclined to bestow yourself. My auberge is thebest of the two, believe me."

  "While we are treated with so much courtesy, sir," replied Edward,filling his glass. "But may I ask what has led you to believe that myname is Apsley?"

  Monsieur de Tronson, who was pressing some of the confectionary uponLucette, did not answer for a moment, but then, turning round, said,with his usual placid smile, "What was that? Oh, how I knew you? Why, mygood sir, we have been expecting you for some time. His Eminence hasletters for you, and very nearly a thousand crowns in gold, which a goodman, called Jacques Beaupre, brought in about ten days ago. How I knowyou? Why, my young friend, do you suppose any thing is unknown at thiscourt?"

  He paused and looked straight in Edward's face. But the young man hadpassed through scenes which had given him a resolute firmness ofcharacter not easily discomposed; and he answered at once, without achange of countenance, "True, you may have known that Sir Peter Apsleywas about to visit Nantes,--though that could be but a guess, for I didnot intend to come this way till I was compelled; but it must have beena still shrewder guess to lead you to suppose a young man dressed as apeasant of the Marais to be an English gentleman."

  "Guesses are good things," said Tronson: "in fact, almost every thingthat man knows, or thinks he knows, is a mere guess. But, when we havegood hooks to hang them on, we can shape them almost into certainties.You have heard of birds who when they hide their heads fancy their wholebodies hidden. Now, my young friend, when next you want to hide yourselfin a peasant's dress, take the air as well as the garb; have somethingof the patois, and do not speak English to a fair companion when thereare sharp ears near. Our good friends of the Marais speak littleEnglish, and when they walk they carry their shoulders round, and theirheads somewhat slouching,--so." And he imitated the air of one of thepeasants so well that even Lucette could hardly refrain a smile.

  "Besides," continued their companion, "you hinted that you wished to seethe cardinal before you quitted Nantes. Now, putting a good number ofother facts to those I have just mentioned, it was easy to divine thatyou were the personage Jacques Beaupre was in search of."

  "True," replied Edward; "and probably I should have taken more care if Ihad wished to be concealed much longer. But, as you say, sir, I must, ifpossible, have the honor of seeing his Eminence the prime minister. Whendo you think I can be so favored?"

  "It will be somewhat difficult just now," said the other, with a muchgraver countenance than he had hitherto borne. "The cardinal is full ofvery serious and painful business. Certainly you cannot see himto-night."

  "Then," said Edward, in a firm and confident tone, "we had better retireand seek some good inn, and I can send and crave an audience to-morrow."

  "Nay, you will have to wait close at hand and snatch your audience whenyou can get it," replied Monsieur de Tronson,--adding, laughingly, "myauberge is the best for your purpose, depend upon it. But tell me,Monsieur Apsley, why did you disguise yourself at all, when, I have beentold, you have a proper safe-conduct?"

  "You mean, sir, why we put on Breton dresses?" replied Edward. "That wasdone for the best reason in the world:--because we had none other fit towear. My whole baggage was lost, and one of my servants stopped, when itpleased some good officers near Mauze to turn me from my straight roadand send me toward Nantes. I trust Master Jacques has brought ourclothing with him. If not, we must purchase more."

  "I cannot tell," replied Monsieur de Tronson, gravely: "all he did bringis in the hands of his Eminence."

  A consciousness that what the man had brought might prove hisdestruction, perhaps, induced Edward to imagine that M. Tronson laid aparticular emphasis on the words "in the hands of his Eminence;" butstill he lost not his coolness, and he replied, "Well, then, we hadbetter proceed to our inn,--if you will recommend us to one; for that wesaw but now will certainly not suit us. It is growing dusk, and I shallscarcely have time to-night to purchase clothing fit to appear in beforethe cardinal."

  As he spoke, he rose; but the secretary of the king's cabinet repeatedwhat he had before said:--"This is the best auberge for your purpose;and I will send for one of those tailors who always follow courts torelieve you from your unseemly att
ire. The young lady, too, had betterhave other clothing. That, too, shall be attended to."

  Edward now saw that nothing but a direct question would bring forth thetruth as to whether he was to consider himself a prisoner or not; and heput it much in the same words as he had used to the officer near Mauze.

  "You have been very discreet with your answers, my young friend," saidMonsieur Tronson, still smiling: "let me advise you to be as discreetwith your questions. But I can excuse a little anxiety, and thereforetell you that you must look upon yourself as a prisoner or not, just asyou please. You will not be treated as such further than being lodged inthis chateau, with a slight hint that you had better not try to leave ittill you have seen his Eminence. If you will give me your word as anEnglish gentleman not to make the attempt, you shall have all theliberty possible, and you shall be only like one of your good Englishlords kept in-doors by a fit of gout. You shall have as good a table atleast as any auberge here could furnish, and you will save money byliving at the king's expense. But if you do not make me that promise Iam afraid there must be such things as keys sent for, and a turning oflocks which might be disagreeable to the ear."

  "I understand, sir," replied Edward, "and, of course, make the promise;but I certainly did not expect that when I came here furnished with apass from his Eminence, it would imply so little."

  "Let me see the pass," said the secretary, somewhat abruptly: "have youit with you?"

  "Yes, it is here," answered Edward, drawing it forth. "As it is my onlysecurity in the present unfortunate state of affairs between the twocountries, I have taken care not to lose that."

  Tronson took it from his hand and carried it to the window to seebetter, saying, after he had gazed at it for a minute or two, "Yes, itis in due form. That is the signature of his Eminence, beyond all doubt.Here are mentioned Sir Peter Apsley, a page, and two serving-men. Am Ito presume that mademoiselle is or was the page? Why, here are no end oftransformations, it would seem."

  People talk of blushing like a rose,--a very bad figure indeed. Roses donot blush. Their gentle color knows no sudden change. The soft emotionof the heart which sends the tell-tale blood into the cheek they neverfeel, but, as an image of eternal health, keep the same hue unchanged.No: Lucette blushed like the morning sky when, conscious of the comingof the sun, the whole face of heaven grows rosy and more rosy.

  "May I ask you, sir," continued the secretary, "if you are married tothis young lady? is she your wife? is she your sister?"

  "Neither, sir," replied Edward,--"neither as yet. She may be some day mywife: till then she is to me as a sister. But, Monsieur Tronson, if I amto submit to interrogatories at all, I should prefer that they be put byhis Eminence the cardinal himself."

  "One more, and I have done," said the secretary. "How happens it thatyou two have been so long on the road? Could you find no means of comingto Nantes sooner?"

  "If you know the time we have spent on the road, sir," replied Edward,"you should know likewise that Mademoiselle de Mirepoix's illnessdetained us."

  "Mademoiselle de Mirepoix!" said De Tronson, with an air of surprise:"this is altogether a somewhat strange affair. But, as you say, it willbe better all reserved for the cardinal himself. But as MademoiselleMirepoix is neither your wife nor your sister, Sir Peter, it will benecessary to place her under a lady's care while here."

  "But," said Edward, fearing a longer and stricter separation fromLucette than he had calculated upon; but Monsieur de Tronson cut himshort, gravely. "No buts, my young friend. It must be now as I say," hereplied. "Wait here, mademoiselle: I will send some women to you in afew minutes. You, sir, follow me, and I will show you your apartment."

  Resistance, of course, was not to be thought of; but Edward could notpart from Lucette coldly, and, before going, he took her in his arms andkissed her warmly, whispering in English the first real words of lovewhich had yet been spoken between them. "Love me, Lucette," he said;"love me, whatever befalls."

  The tears rose in her beautiful eyes; but it was a moment when she feltthere could be no coyness. "I do; I will," she murmured.

  "Ho! ho!" said the secretary, with a smile: "is it so far gone?" And heled the youth from the room.

  Passage after passage seemed to Edward to be placing a terrible distancebetween him and her he loved, and cold and dreary appeared, and indeedwas, his walk through the palace of the king. At length, however,Monsieur de Tronson opened a door at the foot of some steps, and there,in a short sort of long vestibule, appeared the first human beings theyhad seen since they quitted the room of the secretary. The first personthey beheld was the valet whom Edward had before seen; but at the otherend of the corridor, near a heavy iron-plated door, was a guard with ahalberd on his shoulder.

  "The room is quite ready, sir," said the valet, addressing Monsieur deTronson, and at the same time opening a door on the right. "I lightedthe fire, as the chamber has not been occupied since Monsieur de Lavalleft."

  "That was well," replied Tronson; "and you will remember to attenddiligently upon this gentleman and see he has all he wants. You can puthis own servant a bed in the dressing-closet, and let a tailor be sentfor as soon as may be. And now, Monsieur Apsley, I will leave you forto-night. You can, when you desire exercise, take your walk in thispassage and the neighboring rooms on that side; but a gentleman so welleducated will, I know, remember that this is a palace, and not carry hisperegrinations too far. On that side your walks will be impeded by thesentinel. Can I send you a book or any thing to amuse you?"

  "If you have got a copy of Homer or Horace," said Edward.

  Monsieur de Tronson shook his head with a laugh. "I fear you are toolearned for us," he answered; "but I will see, and send you something,at all events. The room looks cheerful enough, does it not? and in thedaytime there is a fine view over the Loire. The moon is late to-night.You had better bring more candles, Guillaume." And, with these words, heleft the young Englishman, who, though the room was indeed a cheerfulone and bright with lights and a warm fire, could not but feel that hewas a prisoner.