Rose D'Albret; or Troublous Times. Read online

  CHAPTER II.

  On the confines of Normandy, towards that part of Maine which joinsthe Orleanois, and nearly on a straight line between Mortagne andOrleans, lies a track of wild common land, unfit for cultivation. Itis now covered with low bushes, stunted trees, gorse, fern, andbrushwood, though often presenting patches of short grass, which serveas pasture-ground for the sheep and cattle of the neighbouringvillages, which are few and far between.

  The extent of this somewhat dreary district is about five miles in onedirection and six in another, and it is broken by hill and dale, deeppits and quarries, rushy pools and swamps, over which at night hoversthe will-o'-the-wisp, while every now and then a tall beech or widespreading oak attests the existence in former days of an extensiveforest, now only traditionary. On one of the hills towards Chartresappear the ruins of an old castle, which, though not referable to anyvery remote period, must have been a place of some strength, and belowis a little hamlet, with a small church, containing several curiousmonuments, where knights are seen stretched in well sculptured armour,and leaguers in starched ruffs and slashed pourpoints, lie recumbentin grey stone.

  Here, however, in times not very long gone, stretched one of thoseforests for which France was once famous, though the woods had beencut down some years before the Revolution, and, converted into gold,had furnished many a luxurious banquet, or been spent in revelry andostentation. It never, indeed, was very extensive, when compared withmany of the forests that surrounded it, but still, towards the end ofthe sixteenth century it possessed scenes of wild beauty rarely to bemet with, and some of the finest trees in the country. Through aportion of the wood ran one of the many windings of the river Huisne;and the ground being hilly, as I have said, from the principaleminences, the winding course of that stream might be discovered forseveral miles, while here and there many a ch?teau, or _maison forte_,appeared in sight, filled with branches of the families of Sourdis,Estr?es, Chazeul, de Harault, Liancourt, and others.

  One or two village spires also graced the scene, but the eye couldcatch no town of any great magnitude, which was probably one of thereasons why that district had suffered less severely during the warsof the league than almost any other in France. Several causes,however, had combined to obtain for it this happy immunity. NoProtestants were to be found in the immediate neighbourhood, andthough all the gentlemen possessing property on the banks of the riverwere steady Catholics, yet they were in general attached to the causeof order and loyalty, and, while withheld by a feeling of bigotry fromsupporting in arms a monarch whom they considered a heretic, wereunwilling to give the slightest aid to a faction, which they well knewhad anything at heart but the maintenance of a religion which theyused as a pretext for rebellion.

  Thus the tide of war had rolled up the valleys of the Seine and of theLoire; Orleans had been a scene of strife and bloodshed; Alen?on hadbeen taken and retaken more than once; Dreux and Chartres had seenarmies frequently under their walls; but the track I speak of, withthe country round for several miles, had escaped the scourge of civilcontention, and a truce, or convention, existed amongst the noblemenof that part of the country, by virtue of which each enjoyed his ownin peace with his neighbours, and feared little the approach ofhostile armies, as the ground was unfavourable to military evolutions;and nothing was to be obtained by marching through a country where nowealthy cities afforded an object either to cupidity or ambition.

  When any great event was imminent, indeed, and the fortunes of Franceseemed to hang upon the result of an approaching battle, small bandsof armed men hurrying up to join this force or that, would cross thedistrict, carefully watched by the retainers of the different lords inthe vicinity of the forest in order to prevent any outrage, and oftenthe little village church would be thronged with soldiery, who in afew days after left their bones upon some bloody field; or at othertimes the wild hymns of the Huguenots would rise up at nightfall fromthe woodlands, in a strain of strange and scarcely earthly harmony.Then too, in the open field, the Calvinistic preacher would haranguehis stern and determined brethren in language full of fieryenthusiasm, and often the Roman Catholic peasant would pause tolisten, and go away almost convinced that the traditions to which hehad so long clung were false and superstitious.

  Few acts of violence, however, were heard of; and when any of the manybands of plunderers, who taking advantage of the anarchy of the times,scoured the country, pillaging and oppressing both parties alike,appeared in the woods and fields, the gentry, making common causeagainst them, soon drove them out to carry on their lawless tradeelsewhere. Some severe acts of retribution too had been practised onthose who were taken, and sometimes for weeks the old oaks weredecorated with the acorns of Tristan the Hermit, as a warning toothers of the same class to avoid the dangerous vicinity.

  It was not wonderful, therefore, that, on a cold clear day, of thefrosty spring of the year 159-, a stout, homely man, about forty yearsof age, dressed in a plain brown peasant's coat, with a black cloakand large riding boots, should ride along upon a strong bay horse,apparently quite at his ease, though night was not far distant. Hisdress and his whole appearance bespoke him a farmer well to do in theworld; but farmers in those days were not above any of the actsrequired by their calling; and over the crupper of the horse wasthrown a large sack of corn, either for sale or for provender.

  I have said that the good peasant appeared quite at his ease, and soindeed he was, utterly unconscious of danger; but that did not implythat he went unprepared for defence, for those were times when suchprecautions had become habitual with all men. The very labourer wentto the field with pike, or large knife, or arquebuse, if he could getit, and the good man we speak of had a long, broad, straight sword,with iron hilt and clasps, by his side, and two pistols at hissaddle-bow. He was a strong, and seemingly an active man, too,though of no very bulky proportions, and somewhat short in stature;and there was an air of determination and vigour about him which wouldhave made a single opponent think twice before he attacked him.Moreover, his countenance displayed a good deal of cool self-possessed_nonchalance_, if I may be permitted for once to use a foreign word,which showed that he was not one to sell either his corn or his lifevery cheap, and he rode his horse like one well accustomed to itsback, and who found no difficulty in managing it at his will.

  The evening, though, as I have said, very cold, was beautifully clear;the western sky was all gold and sunshine, the blades of grass, andthe leaves that still hung upon the branches--which, like theungrateful world, had cast off so many of their green companions inthe dull moment of adversity--were all white with frost, and the road,though somewhat sandy in its materials, was as hard as adamant.

  With a quick habitual motion of the eyes, the farmer glanced fromright to left, marking everything around him as he advanced, and once,where the scene was more open and unencumbered with trees, halted foran instant and looked round. He still showed the careless confidenceof his heart by humming from time to time snatches of a common song ofthe day, and once or twice laughed lightly at some thoughts which werepassing in his own mind. His features were good, though somewhat toostrongly marked, his eyes bright, and clear, his complexion ruddy withhealth and exposure, and his limbs well knit and strong from labourand hard exercise.

  At length the worthy man, trotting on at no very quick pace, began todescend the side of one of the hills of the forest and entered a sortof wild dell, where small broken spots of turf were interspersed withclumps of younger trees, principally ashes and elms, while the oldertenants of the wood hung upon the slopes higher up. At the bottom wasa small stream of very clear water, flowing on towards the Huisne,through water-cresses and other plants of the brook, but now nearlyfrozen over, though towards the mid-course the quickness of thecurrent, and perhaps the depth from which the fountain rose at nogreat distance, kept the water free from ice. A little wooden bridgespanned it over, leaving room for two horses abreast, but the old andcongealed ruts at the side showed that the carts, which occasionallycame along the road,
passed through the stream itself; and somevehicle which had traversed the valley not long before had so farbroken away the frozen surface of the rivulet, that the traveller hadclear space to let his horse drink, before he crossed the bridge.

  As he paused to do so, however, and slackened his rein for thatpurpose, he gazed round, and his eyes were quickly attracted by thesight of some objects not very pleasant to contemplate for a wayfarerin those days. About two hundred yards farther down the stream sat aparty of some eight or nine men, with their horses tied by the foot,and feeding on the frosty grass as well as they could. Though thenumber was so small, a cornet, or ensign of a troop of cavalry, restedagainst a tree, for the ground was too hard to plant it in the earthin the usual manner; and the steel caps, corslets, and arms which eachman bore, plainly showed the farmer that one of the wandering bands ofsoldiery, who were constantly marching hither and thither, to plunderor to fight, as the case might be, was now before him.

  From the force they seemed to muster, the good farmer at onceconcluded that such an inefficient body was more likely to be engagedin a marauding expedition than in a march to join either the army ofthe King or the Duke of Mayenne; but the green and red scarfs whichthey wore evinced that, when engaged in regular military operations,it was to the party of the latter they were attached, though thedistrict in which they now were generally favoured the royal cause.

  However, as he himself, whatever his private opinions might be, boreno distinctive signs of either faction about him the traveller hopedthat he might be suffered to pass unmolested, especially as his dressand appearance offered no great show of wealth; and, therefore,without displaying the slightest concern or apprehension, he sufferedhis horse to conclude his draught, and then was preparing to resumehis journey, when, after a brief consultation, one of the soldiersadvanced at a quick pace on foot, and planted himself on the oppositeside of the bridge, while another ran higher up the hill, and the restrose slowly from the ground, and began to untie their horses.

  All these movements were remarked by the traveller; but still hemaintained his air of easy carelessness till the soldier who hadplaced himself opposite advanced a step or two towards him,exclaiming, in an impatient tone, as if irritated by his apathy, "_Quivive?_"

  The farmer was not without his reply, however, though, to say "Longlive the king," which he might be inclined to do, would have been adangerous experiment, and he therefore replied, without the leasthesitation, "_Vive la France!_"

  "Come, come, master peasant, that will not do," exclaimed the other,advancing upon him, pistol in hand; "thou art some accursed _Politic!_Are you for the Holy Union or Henry of Bourbon?"

  "Nay, good Sir, do not be angry," replied the farmer; "I am a poor manof no party. I have nothing to do with these matters at present, andmind only my own concerns."

  "If thou art of no party," said the soldier, "thou art an enemy toboth. So, get off thy horse; I have a fancy for him."

  "Nay, I pray you," cried the other, "do not take my beast. How am I tocarry my corn?"

  "We will save you that trouble," rejoined the soldier, with thecourtesy usual on such occasions; "and if you have any weight of goldupon you, we will deliver you of that burden also. So, get off atonce, Master What's-your-name, or I will send you off with apistol-shot."

  "My name is Chasseron," answered the peasant, "and a name well knownfor wronging no man; but if I must get off and part with my poorbeast, I pray you help me down with the corn, for I cannot dismounttill it is away.--But if you will leave me the nag," he added, "I willpay you his full value, if you will come to my place. He and I havebeen old friends, and I would fain not part with him."

  "Get down! get down!" cried the soldier impatiently. "Clumsy boor,can't you dismount with a sack behind you?" and at the same moment hecame nearer and laid his hand upon the load.

  The instant he did so, the farmer thrust his strong hand between hiscuirass and his neck, half strangling him with his large knuckles; andwith his right drawing a pistol from his saddle-bow, he brought themuzzle close to his ear, exclaiming, "Now, master, I see you have somecommand, by your scarf. So if the way be not cleared very speedily,you shall go up or down as the case may be, without any brains in yourskull. I've got one life under my fist, and they can but take one inreturn, so now we shall see how they love you. Don't struggle, or youshall soon struggle no more; but turn round, tell them to get out ofthe way, and then march on with me to the top of hill."

  "I can't turn," said the soldier, in a rueful tone.

  "Oh, then, I'll turn you," answered Chasseron with a laugh; andwithout quitting his hold, he whirled his adversary round withprodigious strength, lifting him nearly off the ground as he did so."Now drop your pistol," he continued. "Drop it this instant!"

  The man did so; and, touching his horse gently with his heel, thestout farmer put him into a slow walk, while several of the maraudersran forward to see what was going on.

  "Bid them back!" cried Chasseron, jogging his companion's head withthe muzzle of his weapon. "Bid them back, or you are a dead man,without shrift."

  "Keep off! keep off, Beauvois," cried his adversary. "Keep off, LaMotte, or by the Holy Virgin he will kill me!"

  "That I will," muttered Chasseron heartily; and the soldiers haltedfor an instant as if to consult. But your good companion of those dayswas not very careful of a comrade's life; and it seemed to be soonagreed that the insolence of the farmer was not to be tolerated out ofany consideration for the gentleman in his hands. There was,therefore, some cocking of pistols and looking at pans, with variousother indications of coming strife.

  Chasseron, however, continued to advance, dragging his captive along,and keeping a watchful eye upon all the proceedings of the enemy,while the poor fellow in his hands shouted again and again to the hardears of his companions to hold back for God's sake. They on their partpaid little attention to his petitions; and, in a moment or two,several of the soldiers began to creep closer, in order to get withinpistol-shot, while the rest mounted their horses as if to make anattack on the rear of the enemy. No sooner had the foremost of thoseon foot reached a fitting distance, than he began to take a deliberateaim at the horseman; but the latter, muttering to himself, "This isunpleasant, Pardie!" turned suddenly towards him, withdrew the pistolfrom the ear of the fellow whom he held, levelled it at the other, andfired. The man went down in a moment, his weapon discharging itself inthe air as he fell.

  At the same time the captive struggled hard in the hands of Chasseron,and, by a sudden effort, grasped his dagger to stab him before hecould resist. But the farmer was still quicker in his movements, hisother pistol was drawn in an instant and once more at his friend'shead, and while two shots from the enemy passed close to him, onegrazing his arm, the other going through his hat, he exclaimed, "Throwdown the _dague_, or you are a dead man!"

  The order was obeyed in an instant; but it was repeated with regard tothe sword, which was also cast to the ground at a word; and then tothe surprise of the Leaguer, he was instantly set free.

  "Now," cried Chasseron, "I give you your life. Run back as hard as youcan to your comrades; and, if you have any command over them, bid themleave off attacking a man, who never did them any harm."

  His prisoner required not two biddings to take to his heels; and thegood farmer, setting spurs to his horse, galloped up the hill as hardas he could go, while the men who had mounted pursued him, at fullspeed, firing at him as he went, and the soldier, who had at first ranon upon the road, cast himself in the way, prepared to stop hisadvance.

  As it was now a flight and pursuit, one moment was a matter of lifeand death to the farmer; and as he rode on upon the enemy before him,he leveled his remaining pistol and fired. Though now at full speed,his aim was not less true than before; but the ball striking hisadversary's steel cap in an oblique direction, glanced off withoutwounding him, and the soldier fired in turn without effect. Drawinghis sword, the farmer galloped on; but he had to do with a resoluteand powerful opponent in the man who barre
d the way; the others werecoming up at a furious pace, and the life of poor Master Chasseron wasin no light peril, when suddenly a party of four horsemen, wellmounted and armed, appeared on the top of the hill, riding quickly, asif attracted by the report of the firearms.

  Now they might be friends, or they might be enemies; but Chasserondetermined to look upon them as the former, till they provedthemselves otherwise; and, waving his hand towards them, he cried,"Help! help! Hurrah!" and, as his antagonist in front turned to seewho they were, he let fall a blow on his cap, which brought him on hisknee. The farmer was obliged instantly to wheel, however, to defendhimself against those who followed; and with wonderful strength andagility he crossed swords with one, threw his discharged pistol at theface of another, knocking out some of his front teeth, and watched athird, who was somewhat behind.

  However unequal might be the combat, he maintained it gallantly, whilethe appearance of the fresh party, now galloping down at full speed,made his enemies hesitate in their operations. Nor was the cry of"Vive le Roy!" which came from the advancing cavaliers, nor the sightof the white scarfs with which they were decorated, calculated toreassure the Leaguers. The men who had remained below on foot,however, now rushed up; and, withdrawing from the attack upon thefarmer to meet the more honourable adversaries who were by this timeclose upon them, they attempted to give some little array to theirfront, and to recharge their pistols.

  But before this could be done, the new comers were amongst them;Chasseron turned to give his powerful aid; white scarfs and green weremingled together in a moment; and, after a brief struggle, theLeaguers were driven down into the valley with the loss of two oftheir number. After attempting to make a stand at the bridge they wereput to flight; and springing from their horses, the men who hadmounted followed the example of those on foot, and took refuge in thewood, whither the victors did not think fit to pursue them. As soon asit was clear that resistance had ceased, the successful party haltedby the stream, surrounding the good peasant with whom the strifebegan; while he, on his part, hat in hand, thanked them heartily forhis deliverance.

  "Parbleu!" he exclaimed, "if you had not come up, Monsieur, I shouldhave lost my wheat and my money too. I had killed one of them, andmight have got the better of two more; but I do not think I could havemanaged all the seven."

  These words were addressed to a young gentleman apparently not morethan one or two and twenty years of age. His complexion was pale, butclear; his eyes dark and thoughtful; his deep brown hair waving fromunder his hat, for he wore no defensive arms, and his short beardcurling round his mouth and chin. All the features of his face wereremarkably fine and delicate, but the forehead was broad and high, andthe eyebrows strongly marked. His whole air, and the expression of hiscountenance, were grave and thoughtful; and although he had led theothers in their charge with gallant determination, yet it had beenwith calm coolness which displayed not the slightest sign of vehemenceor emotion. The quick-eyed farmer had remarked also that he hadcontented himself with driving back the enemy, and defending his ownperson, without striking at any one or using the pistols with whichhis saddle-bow was garnished. In person he was tall and well made,though neither much above the ordinary height, nor apparentlyparticularly robust. His carriage, however, was graceful; and he sathis horse with ease and power, managing it during the combat as ifwell accustomed to the tilt yard if not to the battle field, anddrawing it suddenly up by the side of the stream when he saw that theother party had betaken themselves to the wood.

  To the address of the good countryman he replied briefly, saying, "Youare very welcome, my good Sir; though I am not fond of such affairs,nor much habituated to them. Neither are you, I should suppose; andyet you seem to have defended yourself skilfully and vigorously.--Areyou not hurt?"

  "Not a whit!" answered the farmer; "and as to defending myself, that'san old trade of mine; I have borne arms in my day, though I have giventhat occupation up for the present; but there is many a man in thearmy remembers Michael Chasseron. I did not wish to hurt any one, ifthey would have let me pass quietly; so what they have got is theirown fault. And now we may as well see to their baggage: there may becurious things amongst it."

  "That you may do if you like," replied the young gentleman; "neither Inor my servants can have anything to do with plunder."

  "Nor I either," answered the farmer; "I am always content with my own,if I could but get it; but these good men may have other things uponthem besides gold and silver. Papers, young gentleman, papers whichmay be serviceable to the King; and for those, by your good leave, Iwill look, begging you to stand by me for a minute or two, lest ourfriends come out from their hiding-holes again."

  "Willingly, willingly," said his companion, "that is a laudableobject, and in that we will help you." Thus saying he dismountedhimself, and bidding two of his servants do the same, proceeded withChasseron to search the bodies of those who had fallen, three horseswhich remained tied to a tree, and some baggage which had been left onthe ground where the Leaguers had been sitting.

  In a small leather bag buckled on the back of one of the chargers wasfound a packet of letters and papers regarding the movements ofvarious bodies of men, which the good farmer examined with a curiouseye. He then handed them to the young gentleman, who had come down tohis assistance, saying. "You had better take them to the King, Sir."

  "Nay," replied the stranger, "take them yourself, my good friend; I amnot going to the camp; and if this intelligence be of importance youmay get rewarded."

  The farmer shook his head, laughing. "His Majesty," he said, "hasscarcely money, I hear, to buy himself a dinner. But I will take them,for if I don't go myself, I will ensure that he gets them; and now letus look at that fellow I cut over the head upon the hill, if we leavehim there, he will be frozen to death tonight, and that would bescarce christian."

  On approaching the spot where the man lay, they found him still alive,though bleeding and stunned by the blow he had received. After someconsultation they took him up and placed him across one of theLeaguers' horses; and Chasseron then laid his hand upon his brow,saying thoughtfully, "Where shall we take him? The nearest place isMarzay, M. de Liancourt's ch?teau; but I don't rightly know whetherthey will give me shelter there for the night; and this business hasstopped me so, that I shall not be able to get to Marolles beforedark."

  "Oh I will answer for your welcome, my good friend," replied the younggentleman, "I am going to Marzay myself; M. de Liancourt is my uncle."

  "Well then, we will come along," replied the farmer, mounting hishorse again; and, the wounded man being given into the charge of oneof the gentleman's servants, they rode on up the hill, Chasseronkeeping in front with the leader of the party.

  After they had gone about two hundred yards at a slow pace, the farmerturned towards his companion, who had fallen into a silent reverie,and looking in his face for a moment he said, "I could almost swear Ihave seen you somewhere before; but yet I know that can't be, for itis some fifteen years ago."

  "I must have been a child then," replied the cavalier, "for I have yetto see three-and-twenty."

  "It was your father, I suppose," continued Chasseron, "he was then ayoung man, and you are as like him as one leaf on a tree is toanother."

  "What might be his name?" asked the stranger, with a faint smile;"give me that, and I will soon tell you if it was my father."

  "That is easily done," replied the farmer; "his name was Louis de laGrange, Baron de Montigni. He was a good soldier, and a good man."

  "You are right," said the young gentleman; "such was my father's name,and such was his character; but he has been dead now more than tenyears."

  "Ah so I heard," answered Chasseron; "we must all die, and the greatreaper generally takes the best ears, and leaves the worthless onesstanding. I am glad to see his son, however.--But how comes it, Sir,that you are not with the King? Many a man younger than you fought atArques, I believe."

  "That is not improbable," replied De Montigni; "but my uncle sent meto Pa
dua to study, and laid his injunctions on me to remain there.Neither, to say the truth, did I feel much inclination to take part inall this strife, at least so long as the present King was in armsagainst his sovereign."

  "Parbleu! I do not see how he could help it," cried Chasseron; "if hecould not believe the Catholic doctrines, and they held a dagger tohis throat and bade him swear he did believe them, he had but onechoice, either to tell a lie, or knock the dagger out of their hands."

  "I do not blame him," replied the young nobleman, "and for that veryreason I felt unwilling either to take arms for my King or againsthim. Besides, I have friends on both sides, am not very fond ofshedding blood, and, to tell the truth, my friend, I found bettersociety amongst the dead than amongst the living. I mea--"

  "Oh, I understand what you mean," answered the farmer: "you mean youloved your books better than hard blows."

  The young gentleman's cheek grew somewhat red; "I am not afraid ofblows," he said, "and I think you have had no occasion to suppose so."

  "Pardie, no!" replied Chasseron frankly; "and I should not blame youif you were. I am a very peaceable man myself, when men will let mealone; and I desire nothing but to enjoy my own in tranquillity; so ifyou could find peace at Padua with Horace, and Cicero, and Virgil, youwere quite right to take it."

  "You seem to know something of such studies," said the young Baron deMontigni, with a smile.

  "Oh yes," replied Chasseron: "I see you judge by externals alone, myyoung friend; and because I am here a poor cultivator of the soil, youthink that I am a mere peasant; but I am of gentle blood likeyourself--hold my own land, what is left of it; and your friend Virgilshould have taught you that there is no degradation in agriculture; sothat, though I have for a time beaten my sword into a reaping-hook, Iam not a bit the worse gentleman for that."

  "Nay, God forbid," replied the young gentleman, "I hold it one of themost honourable employments a man can follow; but you must not censureme for seeking occupation in my books, as you say, while you seekoccupation in your fields."

  "There is some difference, however," replied Chasseron; "in livingwith the dead as you say, you cut yourself off from doing good to theliving, which ought to be the great object of each man's life. You maytell me, that amongst those great men, those sages of antiquity, youcan best learn how to live, and gain precepts to be applied to yourfuture conduct; but there is a danger in being too long a learner;and, in studying precepts all your life, you may forget ever to applythem. Each man has duties, and those of busy times like these areactive ones. One's king, one's country, one's friends, one'srelations, one's fellow-citizens, all have claims upon us which thedead have not; and the exercise of our abilities affords lessons forour conduct, to which all the maxims of philosophers and moralists arebut bubbles."

  "Methinks," replied De Montigni, "that the cultivator of the soil isnot much more called into active life than the cultivator of letters."

  "Your pardon, your pardon, worthy Sir," answered the farmer; "he isalways mingling with his fellow-creatures; he is ever ready to takehis part with the rest when need shall be; he is daily benefitingmankind, and not spending his life in studying how; he is stilllearning more, even while he is enacting much; and, by the practice ofwhat is right, he learns to do it well."

  The young gentleman smiled gaily, but changed the subject, saying,"Perhaps you are right; but now tell me, as you seem to have studiedall these things deeply, and most likely have lived with your eyesopen to all that has taken place, what has been doing here of late,and what is the real state of France? for, but imperfect and maimedaccounts reach us in foreign lands, perverted by the prejudices ofmen, and coloured by all the passions of the relators. Nor have Iindeed paid much attention to what I heard, till I was summoned backby my uncle; for the only tidings that reached us, came through theLeague, except once or twice, when some Royalists passed by Venice."

  "Your question is a wide one," replied Chasseron, "and I should haveto write a history to tell you. It is but needful to say, that Franceis growing tired of the League; men are recovering from the feverwhich had driven them mad. The King, now with many, now with few, isstill gaining ground on his enemies; but his friends are sometimesmore mischievous to him than his foes. Half the Catholics serve himcoldly, intrigue in his very camp, his court, and at his table,because he is a heretic. The Huguenots murmur and complain because heis obliged to buy, bribe, and reward their adversaries. Both fightwell when there is a battle or a siege, but both are well inclined toleave him when he is obliged to spend his time in those slow anddifficult movements, which are no less necessary in a campaign thanthe combat or the storming party. In the meanwhile, fed with foreigngold, supported by foreign troops, confederated with the implacableenemies of the land, and slaughtering Frenchmen with the swords of theSpaniard, the only hold which the League have upon the people ofFrance is the frail pretext of religion, the almost incurable anarchyinto which they have thrown the country, and the possession of anumber of towns and fortresses, lands, governments, and territories,which those who have grasped them are unwilling to resign and knowthey can only retain so long as this great serpent of the Leagueremains uncrushed."

  "But let me hear," rejoined the young baron, "if you can tell me why,when the King had Paris at his mercy, he did not make himself masterof it. If I have been informed aright, he could have taken it in anhour?"

  "Perhaps he might," replied Chasseron, "and yet he did not. I think itwas very foolish of him, for my part; but still there would have beenterrible bloodshed, many thousands of good citizens would haveperished, the capital would have been a scene of slaughter, violence,and devastation, such as the world has seldom witnessed. After all,perhaps it is as well for a King not to do all that a King can do; andyet the Parisians deserved no great mercy at his hands. But he, poorfoolish man, chose rather to wander about fighting here and fightingthere, sleeping hard, sometimes half starved, and working day andnight, than take their beds from under these rebellious citizens, orgive their wives and daughters up to his soldiers."

  "And he was right," cried De Montigni warmly, "and God will bless himfor it. If I am not much mistaken, that act will set him firmly on thethrone of France."

  "Perhaps so," said the farmer, "but old soldiers get hardened to suchthings, and men do marvel and grumble too, that when he could haveterminated this long and desolating war by one bold and severe stroke,he should have hesitated for the sake of the most rebellious race inFrance. There is much to be said on either side, and I am inclined tothink myself that the King was wrong, though I was of a differentopinion at the time."

  "Indeed!" exclaimed his young companion, "what has made you changeyour views so quickly then?"

  "Thought," answered the farmer, "thought, which may be as often thecomrade of the soldier in the camp or on the march, or of the farmerin the field, if he likes to seek it, as of the pale student over hisbook. No man need be without thought; and the active man, the man oflife and movement, acquires often a power of rapid but no less certaincalculation, which the slow ponderer of the cabinet can never gain. Inow believe, Monsieur de Montigni, upon farther consideration, thatthough there might have been much bloodshed in the streets of Paris,had it been taken when it was besieged, though even the Catholicsoldiers would have been difficult to restrain, and the Huguenotswould have remembered St. Bartholomew, yet the amount of slaughterwill be greater,--nay, perhaps has been greater already, by theprotraction of the war, than if Henry had blown the gates open, andled his army into the heart of the capital."

  "It was an amiable weakness, if it was one," replied De Montigni; "butsee, what a splendid scene we are coming upon, while the evening sunpours such a flood of purple over the grey waves of the wintryforest."

  "Ay, indeed, it is a lovely land, this France," said Chasseron, "andrich as it is lovely, if men would but be content to enjoy thebounties which God gives, without carving out for themselves miseriesand contentions which frustrate all the benevolent purposes of theMost High. Who that looks o
ver such a prospect as that would thinkthat, in every village and in every field, in the wood and in theplain, is strife and bloodshed, anarchy and crime, sown by thevirulent passions and intolerant bigotry of those for whose especialblessing such glories were created? Out upon it! it almost makes one amisanthrope. However, there stands Marzay, not half a mile distant,with people walking on the ramparts. Who may they be, I wonder?"

  "I can divine without seeing their faces," answered the young baron;"there are the garments of a lady, and a priest's robes, and apourpoint, on the gold lace of which the sun's setting rays areglistening. They are sweet Rose d'Albret, daughter of the Count deMarennes, who was killed at Poictiers, and good father Walter de laTremblade; and either my uncle De Liancourt or the good old commander,or, more likely still, my cousin Chazeul."

  "Well," rejoined Chasseron, after a short pause, "I trust to yourwarranty, Monsieur de Montigni; for I am not very sure that my havingkilled a Leaguer or two will be my best recommendation; no, nor,_ventre saint gris_, your white scarf the surest passport to favour inMarzay. Your uncle is one of those we call _Politics_, who are moreafraid to espouse openly a cause they know to be just, than theLeaguers to uphold one they know to be unjust; and, as for Monsieur deChazeul, why he is one of the pillars of the Holy Union."

  "I'll be your surety," replied De Montigni, who was beginning to takeno slight pleasure in the conversation of his frank companion. "Theyshall give you a hearty welcome, or I will hardly take one for myself,which they would not like; so never fear."

  "Nay, I fear not," answered his companion, drily: and they accordinglyrode on towards the gates, which lay straight before them.

  De Montigni, however, fell into a fit of deep musing as theyapproached, and bent his eyes stedfastly upon the ground, though thepersons who were walking on the ramparts above stopped as he drewnear, and a fair lady waved her hand as if in welcome.