Lord Montagu's Page: An Historical Romance

by G. P. R. James

  CHAPTER XXXIX.

  There was a loud knocking in the old castle of Rohan Rohan abouthalf-past four o'clock in the morning, and then various other sounds,which seemed to indicate that people had been roused from their beds bysome unusual summons. Horses' feet were heard stamping in thecourt-yard, too, and two or three persons talking below the windows; andEdward rose up, pulled on his boots, and lighted another candle in oneof the sconces which was nearly extinguished. In those days people weremore matutinal in their habits than in our times; but still half-pastfour was a somewhat early hour, and Edward had not slept well or long.He was bathing his face and head, however, in cold water, to waken uphis sleepy faculties, when some person knocked at the door of his room.He bade them come in; and old Matthew, with the inevitable candle in hishand, entered, introducing a young man in military attire, who, havingsatisfied himself of Edward's name, presented a letter bearing hisaddress.

  Edward opened it, and, approaching the light, read the contents:--

  "M. de Lude begs to inform Monsieur de Langdale that the cardinal willreceive him this morning half an hour before daybreak. The bearer willbe his guide to the quarters of his Eminence."

  "We have hardly time," said Edward.

  "Oh, yes," answered the other, with a smile. "The cardinal sometimeskeeps people waiting; and I took the liberty of ordering your people andyour horses to be brought forth, wherever they might be."

  "Thanks for the precaution," said Edward, looking at his watch, andshrewdly suspecting that the messenger had somewhere dallied on the way."It wants now a quarter to five o'clock. I will not detain you a moment,sir." And, catching up his beaver and his cloak, and a few otherarticles that lay about the room, he descended to the court-yard, takingan opportunity of slipping some money into the hand of the old servant.

  Pierrot was already there with two horses, and Jacques Beaupre appearedthe instant after, leading the other. No time was lost, and Edward wasimmediately in the saddle. Three or four troopers followed; and thewhole party set out down the steep streets from the castle toward thePont de Cosse.

  Edward asked no questions as to the course in which their ride wasdirected; and hardly a word passed between him and his companion as theytrotted rapidly on. The fact was, the young man's mind was full of thecoming interview. On some points his determination was formed; but uponothers he was doubtful. To tell all that happened at Coiffy he wasresolved, and to demand redress; but, turn it in his thoughts as hewould, he could fix upon no way beforehand of introducing his proposedvisit to Rochelle, and in the end he was obliged to leave it to chanceand circumstance.

  Very little of the country did he see as they rode on, for the moonlightwas checkered with cloudy shadows; and faint gleams, and deep shades,and hazy hollows, and brown knolls, were all that caught the eye as thetravellers passed along.

  At length, after several miles' ride, a gleam of light rested for aminute or two upon a little elevation, and on the walls of an oldcastle, not unlike that of Rohan Rohan; and the young officer byEdward's side pointed forward, saying, "There is Mauze, where hisEminence has passed the last four days."

  "How far is it?" said Edward.

  "About two miles," replied the young man; "but we shall soon be there.The road is good and even."

  The light passed away, and Edward caught no other distinct view of thechateau till, about twenty minutes after, they began to ascend thelittle slope. He then perceived a red and garish glow ascending fromamidst some old walls, and in a minute more was in the court-yard,where a number of torches were burning and several men and horses werecollected.

  "Stay here," said the young officer. "I will go and announce you." And,leaving him there, he entered the chateau.

  He had not been gone two minutes, however, when there was a bustle onthe steps of the great hall, and some six or seven persons came forth,with a tall, fine-looking man at their head, habited certainly more inmilitary than ecclesiastical costume; for, though he had a loose scarletrobe thrown over his shoulders, there was the gleam of a cuirassunderneath, and he bore a heavy sword by his side. Edward pushed hishorse forward, seeing at once it was the cardinal; but the greatminister was evidently fully occupied. He spoke a few words to one ofthe little crowd which surrounded him, gave some papers to another,listened for a moment to a third, and then mounted a powerful chargerwhich was held for him at the foot of the steps. His fine but somewhatstern face was full of thought, and the glare of the torches gave iteven a look of harshness, which Edward had never remarked there before.His eye turned upon everybody around, and rested longer perhaps on theface of Edward Langdale than upon that of any other. But he did not seemto recognise him, and probably only remarked him because he remained onhorseback while all the rest were on foot.

  "Follow!" said Richelieu, and rode away; while a faint tinge of graybegan to spread itself through the dark sky, announcing the comingsunrise.

  As the party rode on, Edward remarked that Richelieu spoke a few wordsto those immediately about him; and presently after one of them fellback to his side and asked if his name were Langdale. He answered in theaffirmative; and the gentleman then told him to ride up near hisEminence. Edward did so; but the cardinal took no notice, and continuedto push on at a quick pace till they reached the top of one of thoseabrupt little eminences which are scattered over the flatter ground uponthe western coast of France. Upon the very summit Richelieu pulled inhis horse; and by this time the pale bluish twilight had gainedsufficient strength to show the brown moors and yellow sands, and thetowers and pinnacles of Rochelle, with a gleam of the sea beyond. Anodor of seaweed also came sweeping up from the northwest, and a saltishtaste was felt upon the lips of those who sat there and gazed.

  "Edward Langdale!" said Richelieu, after a moment or two; and Edwardspurred his horse up to his side.

  "You have kept your word in coming back," said the cardinal; "but I didnot expect you so soon."

  "That was because your Eminence did not know all the circumstances,"answered the young man, with that mixture of frankness and respect whichis always well pleasing to the great.

  Richelieu raised what was then called a perspective glass--a very feeblesort of telescope--to his eye, and gazed toward Rochelle, the long linesof which were becoming more distinct every moment. Edward was silent,seeing that the mind of the great minister was fully occupied; and noone spoke a word for nearly ten minutes. Then occurred one of thosephenomena by no means uncommon, and easily accounted for in these days,but to which the superstition of old times lent a significance they donot now possess. Away out to the east the sun began to rise, somewhatpale and sickly in look, and with a whitish glare around him; while inthe west, rising over the sea, appeared another sun, exactly of the sameaspect and keeping as it ascended the same height in the sky.

  "Two suns in the same heaven!" exclaimed Richelieu, with an accent ofsurprise.

  "Yes, your Eminence," replied Edward. "But one is much brighter than theother, and its light will last after the other has gone out."

  Richelieu turned suddenly round and gazed in his face with an inquiringlook, as if he thought there might be something beneath his words moresignificant than the words themselves; then, bowing his head with awell-pleased smile, he said, "True, true! one is fading already."

  Whether Edward had spoken to his thoughts or not must be always amystery; but it is certain that minds of great fire and eagerness, evenwithout much fancy, will snatch at images supplied by external natureto figure forth without danger thoughts, dreams, purposes in their ownhearts which they dare not utter. The parable is always a resource ofambition, and often a resource of love. Certain it is, too, that therewere at that time two suns in the sky of France, and that one wasalready fading into an obscurity becoming darker and more dark till thefaint figure of the dying monarch was hardly seen or felt, while theother was destined to go on increasing in splendor and power till it setforever. Here the comparison may be supposed to halt; for some may saythat the real sun was fading while the false one wa
s increasing insplendor. But that depends, after all, upon how men appreciategreatness,--whether genius or birth be the real sun.

  However that may be, it is certain that Louis XIII. was at all eventsendowed with military genius; but even in the splendor of that mostdazzling--to the eyes of men--of human gifts, his rays were palingbefore the superior endowments of his minister. Sickness, weariness,disgust, despondency--we know not well what--had already induced him towithdraw from the siege of Rochelle, and to leave Richelieu to carry onthe operations with a force, an energy, a talent, which would have wonfame for the most distinguished general or engineer. The cardinal mightwell, therefore, apply the words of Edward Langdale to himself, feelingthem a compliment which, like the misty light of a summer's day, was themore warm because it was in some degree indefinite. Richelieu did notwish to have it otherwise, and, without further words, turned his eyesonce more upon the scene before them. A small battery opened its fireupon the walls of the devoted town as they sat there and gazed; butnobody could see whether it produced any effect or not. Richelieu, atall events, paid little attention to it, and only murmured to himself,"Waste of saltpetre!" Shortly after, he sent off two gentlemen onhorseback with messages written in pencil on small scraps of paper, andthen turned to gaze again. Some five minutes after, a man on horsebackcame back, galloping up from the rear, and gave him some information ina low voice. For a short space his brow contracted as if with anger;but the emotion lasted evidently only a moment, and the next instant hesmiled almost gayly, and he said, aloud, "Well, one may have too manyrats in a rat-trap. Monsieur Langdale, come hither."

  Edward rode close up, and the cardinal asked, "Do you know any thing ofthe Duc de Rohan?"

  "No, your Eminence," replied Edward; "I have not seen or heard of himfor nearly nine months."

  "You did not see him last night?" said Richelieu.

  "The Duc de Rohan!" exclaimed Edward, in a tone of surprise. "I passedall last night, sir, in the Chateau de Fontenay; but the duke certainlywas not there, to my knowledge."

  "Nevertheless," said Richelieu, in a quiet tone, "he passed from rightto left of our army in the rear with his whole force: so I understand."

  "Now I comprehend what I saw last night," said Edward; and he detailedall he had observed from the window of the chateau.

  "It was no phantom," said Richelieu, gravely; "but it is as well. Iwonder if there were other people in the town or castle who took men forshadows as well as you. How long are you from Savoy, where I last heardof you?"

  "A long time, may it please your Eminence," replied the youngEnglishman; "but only eleven days from the Chateau of Coiffy,--whenceyou certainly should have heard of me if they had not debarred me theuse of pen and ink and kept me a close prisoner for months."

  "Ha!" said the minister, with a grave, stern face, "Monsieur deBourbonne thinks he can play with me, does he? and now he fancies he hasgot his reward. But we must talk more of this when I have some leisure.At present, that little black line there," he continued, pointing towardRochelle, "occupies much of my thoughts. The battery has not yet ceasedfiring. These men of trumpet and broad-sword, Monsieur Langdale,attribute more virtue to gunpowder and cannon-balls than I do. There aremuch more efficient elements in war."

  "Indeed, your Eminence!" exclaimed Edward: "may I ask what?"

  "The impudent young cur," said one of the old officers near, to another,in a low voice, "talks to the cardinal as if he were hisbottle-companion."

  Richelieu answered calmly, but with emphasis, "A pickaxe and a shovel,followed up by the movements of those two great officers, Pestilence andFamine. When you announced in Rochelle, Master Langdale, the coming ofLord Denbigh's fleet, and those wise men of the East refused to receiveit in their port, they little thought, I ween, that those two mightycommanders would be so soon amongst them. But how was it," he continued,changing his tone and speaking rapidly, "that they dared, in suchperilous circumstances, to send away King Charles's ships upon thepretext that they had not been warned, when you yourself had warnedthem?"

  "Your Eminence's pardon," answered Edward; "but Master Jargeau, who ofcourse told you all this, should also have said that I had not been anhour in Rochelle before I had my head broken, and lay for nearly a weekincapable of delivering any of my letters. It was a pretext, as yourEminence calls it; but the Rochellois had really not been warned whenLord Denbigh's fleet arrived."

  "You are mistaken, young man," said Richelieu, with a slight curl of thelip: "you jump at your conclusions too rapidly. There have been moreJargeaus than one in Rochelle; and this one, though a very serviceablefellow, I am told, never saw me in his life. Ay, it is a pity that hewould not keep his neck out of the noose; but he forced us to hanghim,--which was a severe loss to the king's service. He was in the caseof those men who, as the Scriptures say, are exceedingly fond of servingboth God and mammon. God abandoned him, and mammon could not save him;for though he offered Bassompierre the whole value of a cargo of fish hehad contrived to get into Rochelle,--and every fish was worth an ounceof gold, be it remarked,--Bassompierre, whose intelligence is very good,seized the gold where he had hidden it, and hanged him according toproclamation."

  All this was said with much coolness and deliberation; and from time totime the great minister raised his glass to his eye and gazed at thebattery, which had not yet ceased firing. He waited about ten minutesmore, and then beckoned up some of the superior officers round him,asking if they thought his messenger had not had time to reach thelines. They all agreed that there had been plenty of time; but one ofthem added, in a careless tone, "It is possible, your Eminence, that hemay not have carried either his head or his message with him. There hasbeen a puff or two of smoke from the walls, and nobody can tell wherethe shot may have gone. A man may have a tierce major in his favor andyet lose the game after all."

  "Possibly," replied Richelieu, and then resumed his watch. During somefive minutes after, the line of the battery showed no more smoke orfire; the wreaths of sulphurous vapor curled away; the town also ceasedfiring, the whole scene lay quiet and peaceful beneath their eyes, andnothing was seen but a few horsemen riding about, with one apart fromthe rest, galloping quickly up toward the hill on which they were.

  The cardinal waited his arrival and put some questions, which EdwardLangdale, who had fallen a little back, did not hear.

  "In five days, your Eminence," replied the officer, aloud. "He says thatat present no boat bigger than a cockle-shell can get in or out, and,unless there be a very high tide or a gale of wind, the place will besealed up as tight as a bottle of old Burgundy."

  "Well," said Richelieu; "it is well. Have they made no attempt tointerrupt the works?"

  "None whatever, your Eminence," replied the other: "they are trusting toGod's good providence and a high tide,--doubtless praying in all theirtemples for storm and tempest with profound devotion; but the devil andthe wind do not seem inclined to help them, and the poor creatures whomthey drove out have been received into the town again to eat them up, sothat they cannot hold out many weeks longer."

  The cardinal smiled, and, turning his horse, rode slowly back toward theChateau of Mauze, without saying a word to any one, and seemingly buriedin profound thought.

  Edward Langdale followed, not knowing well what to do; and not one worddid Richelieu speak to him or any one till they reached the gatesleading into the court-yard. The cardinal dismounted and entered thebuilding, followed by some of his immediate attendants. The military menscattered in different directions, each to his own quarters, withouttaking any notice whatever of the young stranger; and Edward remainedupon his horse in the court-yard, while a curious smile upon the lip anda raising of the eyebrow of Jacques Beaupre read an unpleasantcommentary upon his disappointed expectations.

  "You must seek lodgings in the little town, Pierrot," said LordMontagu's page. "Get the best you can,--though bad, I fancy, will be thebest,--and make some arrangement for obtaining food. We must havesomething to eat,--though the poor folks in Rochelle are wo
rse off thanwe, it would seem."

  "It is a small place, Mauze, sir, and quite full of soldiery," saidPierrot. "But I will do my best, and get something at all events; for Iknow some of the people here, who, I think, would kill a hog for me, ifwe can do no better. But I am afraid quarters will be worse to find thanrations."

  "We must seek for both," answered Edward, "and something for the horsestoo."

  He was turning toward the gates again, to ride down the slope into thelittle town, or rather village,--for it was no better then,--when a mandressed in a dark suit and bearing somewhat the appearance of a servantcame down the steps and approached the young gentleman's horse. "HisEminence the Cardinal de Richelieu," he said, in a low, sweet voice,"has commanded me to tell Monsieur de Langdale that he will see him assoon as the business of the day is over,--about nine o'clock to-night.In the mean time, I will show Monsieur de Langdale a chamber,--somewhathigh up, it is true; but the castle is very full. Monsieur de Langdalewill take his meals with the officers of the cardinal's guard. Hisservants must provide for themselves in the village, as we have no room.The cardinal allows them a crown a day as livery."

  Edward dismounted and followed him to a chamber convenient enough,though very near the top of the main tower; and, knowing the policy ofsaying as little as possible in such places, he only asked if at nineo'clock he should present himself before the cardinal, or if hisEminence would summon him.

  "He did not say," replied the man. "But monsieur had better go to theante-chamber at that hour and speak with the almoner, whom he will findthere." Thus saying, he left him, seemingly as much indisposed to say aword more than was necessary as Edward could be himself.

  The reader may probably have no great opinion, from the facts alreadyrelated in this true history, of Edward Langdale's prudence; but, as Ihave shown, he had been undergoing for the last nine months a course ofdiscipline under which he had greatly improved. Much was at stake atthat moment, and he resolved to act as cautiously as possible; andduring the whole morning he never quitted the chamber which had beenassigned to him,--passing the time partly in sleep, partly in deepmeditation over the character of the great minister, which had nowappeared to him in a new point of view. The coldness, the somewhatsarcastic indifference with which Richelieu had spoken of the hanging ofthe unfortunate Jargeau and of the miseries of the people of Rochelle,would have given the impression that he was merely a hard, selfishpolitician, had it not been for the deep emotions which had stirred himin the case of Chalais and the lighter and more graceful feelings whichEdward had seen him display in their first interview.

  It was matter of study for the young man; but, as he thought over hisown conduct, he determined to make no change. He had hitherto followedthe promptings of the moment; and he had acquired a conviction that withthe cardinal unpremeditated frankness was the best policy.

  He was still indulging in this strain of thought, when a servant came toinform him that the officers of the cardinal's guard were at dinner, andled him to the great hall, where he found a seat reserved for him at thetable. There was no sympathy, however, between him and those with whomhe had to associate for a few minutes: they were civil,--which was allhe could expect; and hardly ten words passed his lips before he retiredonce more to his chamber.