Bonnie Prince Charlie

by G. A. Henty

  “Bid your father, too, to have a care for himself and your mother. Remember that violence is common enough, and there are few inquiries made. An attack upon a lonely house and the murder of those within it is naturally put down as the act of some party of discharged soldiers or other ruffians. Tell him therefore he had best get a few trusty men around him, and be on guard night and day against a treacherous attack. Those who stand in the way of powerful men in France seldom live long, so he cannot be too careful.”

  A quarter of an hour later Ronald was on horseback. He had already provided himself with a pass to leave the city after the usual hour of closing the gates, and he and Malcolm were soon in the open country. As they rode along Ronald repeated the warning that the marshal had given him.

  “He is quite right, Ronald, and you cannot be too careful. We have against us, first, this vindictive Duc de Chateaurouge, who, no doubt, has poisoned the king's mind. In all France there is no one whom I would not rather have as a foe. He is powerful, unscrupulous, and vindictive; he would hesitate at nothing to carry out anything on which he had set his mind, and would think no more of obtaining the removal of one whom he considered to stand in his way than of crushing a worm. Even as a young man he had a villainous reputation, and was regarded as one of the most dangerous men about the court. To do him justice, he is brave and a fine swordsman, and for choice he would rather slay with his own hands those who offend him than by other means. Though he was but three-and-twenty at the time I first left France he had fought half a dozen duels and killed as many men, and several others who were known to have offended him died suddenly. Some were killed in street brawls, returning home at night, one or two were suspected of having been poisoned. Altogether the man was feared and hated in those days, although, of course, none spoke their suspicions openly.

  “From what I have heard those suspicions have stuck to him ever since. He has not been engaged in many duels, because in the first place edicts against duelling are very strict, and in the second because his reputation as a swordsman is so great that few would risk their lives against him. Still all who stood in his way have somehow or other come to a sudden end. We must therefore be on our guard night and day. He is, of course, your most dangerous foe; but besides him must be numbered all those who hope to obtain your mother's estates. The heirs of the marquis doubtless feel perfectly safe from interference. There is no chance whatever of the king dispossessing them in favour of a foreigner, so we need not count them among your foes.

  “It is just as well, Ronald, that we started tonight instead of waiting till tomorrow. The duke is pretty certain to learn that the king's answer will be sent this evening, and may possibly have made preparations for you on the road; but he will hardly expect that you will start before the morning. However, in order to be on the safe side I propose that we shall presently turn off from the main road and avoid all large towns on our way down to Poitiers.”

  “Do you think the danger is as great as that, Malcolm?”

  “I do not think there is much danger, Ronald, just at present, though I do in the future.”

  Travelling by byways Ronald and Malcolm arrived at Poitiers without adventure.

  “I have brought you the king's answer, mother,” Ronald said as he alighted; “but before you open it I may tell you that it is unfavourable, though I am ignorant of the precise nature of its contents. But you must not be disappointed. Marshal Saxe bade me tell you that he considers his honour engaged in seeing you righted, and that whenever an opportunity occurs he will endeavour to move the king's mind in your favour. How is my father?”

  “He suffers grievously from rheumatism, Ronald, and can scarce move from his couch.”

  As soon as they joined the colonel the countess opened the king's letter. It was brief. “The Countess Amelie de Recambours is hereby ordered to withdraw at once to her estate of La Grenouille and there to await the king's pleasure concerning her.”

  The king's signature was affixed.

  “Well, that is not so very bad,” the countess said. “At any rate my right to one of my mother's estates is recognized. La Grenouille is the smallest of them, and contains but three or four farms. Still that will suffice for our wants, and as it lies but twenty miles from Bordeaux the air will be warm and soft for you, Angus.”

  “Is there a chateau on it, mother?”

  “Yes, there is a small chateau. I was there once as a girl. It has never been modernized, but is still a castle such as it was two hundred years ago.”

  “All the better,” Ronald said; and he then gave Malcolm's reasons for their being on the watch against any sudden attack.

  “He is quite right, Ronald,” Colonel Leslie said. “The duke is capable of anything. However, we will be on our guard, and if, as your mother says, it is a fortified house, we need have no fear of any sudden attack.”

  “I would suggest, colonel, that I should ride to Tours,” Malcolm said, “and hire two of the men who escorted madame's carriage. They have served in the wars and can be relied upon. They would not need high wages, for most of the discharged soldiers have trouble enough to keep body and soul together. With a couple of men of this kind, and two or three of the men on the estate, I think, colonel, you need fear no sudden attack.”

  The colonel approved of the suggestion, and a week later, Malcolm having returned with the two men, a carriage was hired to convey the colonel and his wife, and so they journeyed quietly down to La Grenouille. On arriving there they found that they were expected, the old steward in charge having received a letter from the royal chancellor, saying that he was to receive the countess as the owner of the estate.

  The old man, who had known her mother well and remembered her visits as a child, received the countess with respectful joy. The chateau was, as Amelie had said, really a castle. It was surrounded by a moat filled with water, from which the walls rose abruptly, with no windows in the lower stories and only small loopholes in those above. Although the steward was ignorant when his mistress might be expected, he had already caused great fires to be lighted in all the rooms and had temporarily engaged two of the farmer's daughters to wait upon the countess, and three stout men as servitors.

  “What are the revenues of the estate?” the countess asked the steward that evening. “My mother's other estates have not been restored to me as yet, and I have only this to depend upon, and I do not know what establishment I can afford to keep up.”

  “The revenue amounts to twelve thousand francs,” he said. “There are three large farms and four small ones. Twelve thousand francs are not much, countess, for your mother's daughter; but they go a long way here, where one can live for next to nothing. We have a garden which will provide all the fruit and vegetables you require, and your poultry will cost you nothing. The vineyard attached to the chateau furnishes more than enough wine, and the cellars are well filled, for every year I have put aside a few barrels, so that in fact it will be only meat you have to buy.”

  “So that you think I can keep the two men I have brought with me and the servants you have engaged?”

  “Easily, madam, and more if you wished it.”

  “Do you think five men will be sufficient?” the countess said. “I ask because I have powerful enemies, and in these lawless times an attack upon a lonely house might well be carried out.”

  “With the drawbridge drawn up, madam, five men could hold the chateau against a score, and the sound of the alarm bell would bring all the tenants and their men down to your assistance. I will answer for them all. There were great rejoicings last week when I sent round the news that you were expected. The memory of your mother, who once resided here for a year, is very dear to all of us, and there is not a man on the estate but would take up arms in your defence. The sound of the alarm bell would bring thirty stout fellows, at least, to your aid.”

  “Then we need not trouble on that score, Amelie,” the colonel said cheerfully. “Malcolm will see to the drawbridge tomorrow; probably it has not been raised f
or years.”

  “I have already been examining it,” Malcolm —who had just entered the room —said. “It only needs a little oil and a bolt or two. I will have it raised tonight. Things look better than I expected, colonel, and I shall be able to return to Paris without having any anxiety upon your score.”

  “But you are not thinking of going back, Ronald?” the countess asked anxiously. “If there is danger here for us, there must be surely danger for you in Paris. And I want you here with us.”

  “I will stop for a few days, mother, and then Malcolm and I will be off. As I have Marshal Saxe's protection I need fear no open enmity from anyone, and as I shall be with the regiment I shall be safe from the secret attacks; besides, my sword can guard my head.”

  “You have taught him to defend himself —eh, Malcolm?” Colonel Leslie said.

  “I,” Malcolm repeated —“I can use my sword in a melee, colonel, as you know, and hold my own against Dutchman or German when I meet them on the field; but Ronald is a different blade altogether. He was well taught in Glasgow, and has practised under the best maitres d'armes in Paris since, and I am proud to say that I do not think there are ten men in France against whom he could not hold his own.”

  “That is good, that is good, indeed,” the colonel said, delighted. “Malcolm, I feel my obligations to you more and more every day. Truly I had never even hoped that if my son were ever to be restored to me, I should have such cause to be proud of him.”

  “But why do you think you had better return to Paris, Ronald?” his mother inquired.

  “Because, mother, it will not do to let your enemies have entirely their own way now that you have been so far restored. Doubtless your family will be the more inclined to aid you with their influence, but there must be somebody to urge them to do so.”

  “Besides, Amelie,” the colonel put in, “we must not cage the lad here at your apron strings. He has already won Saxe's regard and protection by his conduct in the field, and can now accept a commission in the old regiment. He has begun well, and may yet live to command it. No, no, my love. I should like to keep him here as much as you would, but in every way it is better that he should go out and take his place in the world. To you and me, after our long imprisonment, this place is life, freedom, and happiness, and we are together; but for him it is a dreary little country chateau, and he would soon long for a life among men.”

  And so, after three weeks' stay at the chateau, Ronald and Malcolm rode back to Paris, and the former received a week later a commission through Marshal Saxe in the Scottish Dragoons. That regiment had returned from the frontier, and Ronald at once took his place in its ranks, and was heartily received by all the officers, to whom he was formally introduced by Colonel Hume as the son of their former commanding officer.

  A short time afterwards it became the turn of duty of the Scottish Dragoons to furnish guards for a week at Versailles, and Colonel Hume took down two troops for that purpose. That to which Ronald belonged was one of them. Ronald, knowing that for the present he was not in favour with the king, begged the colonel to put him on duty as often as possible, so that he might avoid the necessity of being present at the king's audiences with the other officers.

  He was one day walking with the colonel and several other officers in the grounds at a distance from the palace, when they came, at the turn of the walk, upon the Duc de Chateaurouge and three other gentlemen of the court. The former stopped abruptly before Colonel Hume.

  “I had the honour, Colonel Hume, to speak to you some time since of a volunteer in your regiment who chose to call himself the name of Leslie. I understand he is now an officer. I see by the lists in the courtyard that a Cornet Leslie is now on duty here. Where does he hide himself, for I have been seeking in vain to meet him?”

  “Cornet Leslie is not one to balk any man's desire that way,” Colonel Hume said gravely. “This is Cornet Leslie.”

  Ronald stepped forward and looked the duke calmly in the face.

  “So this is the young cockerel,” the duke said contemptuously. “A worthy son of a worthy father, I doubt not.”

  “At any rate, my lord duke,” Ronald said quietly, “I do not rid myself of my foes by getting those I am afraid to meet as man to man thrown into prison, nor by setting midnight assassins upon them. Nor do I rely upon my skill as a swordsman to be a bully and a coward.”

  The duke started as if struck.

  “I had made up my mind to kill you, young sir,” he said, “sooner or later; but you have brought it on yourself now. Draw, sir!” And the duke drew his sword.

  Colonel Hume and several others threw themselves before Ronald.

  “Put up your sword, sir. Duelling is forbidden, and you know the consequence of drawing within the precincts of the palace.”

  “What care I for ordinances!” the duke said furiously. “Stand aside, gentlemen, lest I do you harm!”

  “Harm or no harm,” Colonel Hume said sternly, “my young friend shall not fight in the palace grounds. I protest against his being forced into a duel at all; but at any rate he shall not fight here.”

  The duke looked for a moment as if he was about to spring upon Colonel Hume, but he saw by their faces that his companions also were against him. For the consequences of drawing a sword within the precincts of a palace were so serious, that even the most powerful nobles shrank from braving them.

  “Very well,” he said at last, thrusting his sword back into its scabbard. “It is but ten minutes' walk to the boundary wall, I will let him live till then.”

  So saying he started off with rapid strides down the walk, followed at a slower pace by the rest.

  CHAPTER XII: The End of the Quarrel.

  “This is a serious business, Leslie,” the colonel said in a low voice. “If it had been anyone but you I should have ordered him to the barracks at once under pain of arrest, and have laid the matter before the king, for it would have been nothing short of murder. But I can trust you to hold your own even against the Duke of Chateaurouge. And, in truth, after what has been said, I do not see that you can do other but meet him.”

  “I would not avoid it if I could,” Ronald said. “His insults to me do not disturb me; but I have my father's wrongs to avenge.”

  “Forbes,” the colonel said to one of the other officers, “do you go straight to the barracks, bid Leslie's man saddle his own horse and his master's instantly, and bring them round outside the wall of the park. If Leslie wounds or kills his man he will have to ride for it.”

  The officer at once hurried away.

  “Ronald, I will tell you a piece of news I heard this morning. The young Chevalier left Paris secretly five days ago, and I have received certain private information this morning that he has gone to Nantes, and that he is on the point of sailing for Scotland on his own account. I am told that this plan of his is known to but five or six persons. If you get safely through this business mount and ride thither at all speed. They are more likely to pursue you towards the frontier or the northern ports, and will not think you have made for Nantes. If you get there before the prince has sailed, present yourself to him and join his expedition. The king will be furious at first, both at the loss of his favourite and the breaking of the edicts; but he must come round. The gentlemen here with the duke are all honourable men, and were, I could see, shocked at the insult which the duke passed on you. Therefore I can rely upon them to join me in representing the matter in its true light to the king. Before you return, the matter will have blown over, and it may be that the removal of your father's most powerful enemy may facilitate an arrangement. In any case, my dear boy, you can rely upon the marshal and myself to look after your interests.”

  They had now reached a wicket gate in the wall of the park. The duke was standing a few paces distant, having already removed his coat and turned up the shirt sleeve of the sword arm.

  “You will act as second, marquis?” he said to one of the gentlemen.

  The latter bowed coldly.

&n
bsp; “I act as second to my friend Leslie,” Colonel Hume said. “And I call upon you all, gentlemen, to bear witness in the future, that this encounter has been wantonly forced upon him by the Duc de Chateaurouge, and that Cornet Leslie, as a man of honour, has no alternative whatever but to accept the challenge forced upon him.”

  Ronald had by this time stripped to his shirt sleeves. The seconds took the two swords and compared their length. They were found to be as nearly as possible the same. They were then returned to their owners. A piece of even turf was selected, and a position chosen in which the light was equally favourable to both parties. Then both fell into position on guard, and as the rapiers crossed Colonel Hume said solemnly:

  “May God defend the right!”

  An instant later they were engaged in deadly conflict. It lasted but a few seconds. The duke, conscious of his own skill, and believing that he had but a lad to deal with, at once attacked eagerly, desirous of bringing the contest to a termination before there was any chance of interruption. He attacked, then, carelessly and eagerly, and made a furious lunge which he thought would terminate the encounter at once; but Ronald did not give way an inch, but parrying in carte, slipped his blade round that of the duke, feinted in tierce, and then rapidly disengaging, lunged in carte as before. The blade passed through the body of his adversary, and the lunge was given with such force that the pommel of his sword struck against the ribs. The duke fell an inert mass upon the ground as Ronald withdrew the rapier.

  An exclamation of surprise and alarm broke from the three gentlemen who had accompanied the duke, while Colonel Hume said gravely:

  “God has protected the right. Ah! here come the horses! Mount and ride, Leslie, and do not spare the spurs. I should advise you,” he said, drawing him aside, “to take the northern route for a few miles, so as to throw them off the scent. When you get to Nantes search the inns till you find the Duke of Athole, he is an intimate friend of mine, and it was from him I learned in strict secrecy of the prince's intentions. Show him this ring, he knows it well, and tell him I sent you to join him; say nothing at first as to this business here. Your own name and my name will be enough. He will introduce you to Prince Charlie, who will be with him under a disguised name. May God bless you, my lad! We will do our best for you here.”