Rose D'Albret; or Troublous Times. Read online

  CHAPTER III.

  By the reader's good leave, we must go up for a moment or two to theramparts of the Ch?teau of Marzay, and introduce him to the partythere, before the new comers arrive. Nay, more, we must return fornearly an hour, and listen to the conversation which was taking placewhile all the events we have just narrated were occurring in the woodthat lay beneath the eyes of those upon the castle walls, though itmust be premised, that those events had been completely hidden fromtheir sight by the thin veil of forest boughs, as the various turns offate, upon which the fortunes of our whole future life depend, areoften going on close by us, concealed from our gaze, whether anxiousor unconscious, by the ripple of an idle current of trifling thingsthat affect us not permanently in any way.

  The Baron de Montigni, though five or six years had elapsed since helast saw any of the party there assembled, had, by his previousknowledge of the circumstances, divined aright the names of thepersons of which it was composed. About an hour and a half beforesunset, a very beautiful girl of eighteen or nineteen had come forthupon the walls for her afternoon walk, having on one hand a gentlemandressed in the height of the extravagant fashions of the day, with ahigh starched ruff, or _fraise_, as it was called, which made his headlook like that of John the Baptist in a charger, and with a slashedand laced pourpoint of yellow velvet, stiffly embroidered with silver.His shoes were of white satin, enriched with a rosette of yellow; andin his girdle hung a small dagger knife, with a fretted hilt of gold,while far behind hung his sword, as if put out of reach of his handlest he should use it too frequently. His beard was pointed, andneatly trimmed; his hair curled, and turned back from his face; and onthe top of his head he wore a small velvet toque, with a single longfeather. In person he was tall, and not ungraceful, though somewhatstiff; and his features were all good, though there was certainlysomething in the disposition of them which gave a sinister andunpleasant expression to his countenance. Perhaps this effect wasproduced by the closeness of the eyes and the narrowness of the brows,which produced a shrewd and confined look, though his face mightotherwise have been prepossessing.

  Though dressed with such scrupulous care, his air and manner was notthat of a fop. It was not easy and unrestrained, indeed, but it wasbold and confident; and if one might judge--as we almost all dojudge--from manner and appearance, pride, rather than vanity, was hisprevailing folly; shrewd ambition, rather than levity, thecharacteristic vice. Yet, as we shall see, he was not withoutlightness, too; but it was often used in those days as a means to anend, and covered too frequently intense selfishness under an air ofidle indifference.

  On the other side of the young lady walked, to and fro with her uponthe rampart, a man considerably passed the middle age, dressed in thehabit of the clergy. His hair was almost white, though here and therea streak of a darker hue showed that it had been once jet black. Hisfeatures were fine, though apparently worn with care and thought; andthe expression of his countenance was grave, calm, and almost stern.His large dark eyes were, indeed, full of light, but it was not ofthat kind which illuminates what is within for the gaze of others, butit rather fell dazzling upon those who were his companions for thetime, searching the secrets of their hearts, and displaying none ofhis own. His lips were thin and pale; his cheek delicate and hollow,but with a slight tinge of red, which by its varying intensity, fromtime to time gave the only indication to be obtained of strongemotions in his bosom.

  But we must speak of the lady, for truly she deserves some notice,were it but for her beauty. There were, however, other things to beremarked in her besides the fine and delicate features, the gracefuland rounded limbs, the bright complexion, the fair skin, the tanglesof her luxuriant dark brown hair, the heaving bosom, or the perfectsymmetry of the neck and shoulders. In the large, soft hazel eyes,under their jetty fringes, on the warm arching lips, and in the dimpleof the cheek, shone forth a gay and bright spirit, which, perhaps,under some circumstances might have been full of playful jest andlight-hearted merriment; but, as it was, the light was subdued andshaded almost to sad thoughtfulness. It seemed as if cares andanxieties, if not sorrows and misfortunes, had come upon her young; oras if those with whom her early years had been spent, had laboured torepress, rather than moderate, the joyous buoyancy of youth, and hadbrought a cloud over the sunshine of girlhood.

  It was not exactly so, indeed; but living in troublous times, when themind became familiar with great but tragic acts, and every day broughtsome subject for deep and anxious thought, and passing her life incomparative seclusion with people older than herself,--not verywise nor very considerate, though not actually domineering andaustere,--her cheerfulness had been repressed, though notextinguished, and a shade of sadness brought over her demeanour,rendering it various and changeful like an April day. Her dress wasrich and tasteful, according to the fashion of the times, but more inthe style of the fair and unhappy queen of Scotland, than of the harshand masculine Elizabeth. There were no gaudy colours; indeed there wasno great display of embroidery; but the lace which waved over her fairbosom and rose round her snowy neck, was of the finest and most costlykind; and the black velvet of her dress was here and there looped withpearls.

  When first she came forth, by a door that led over a small bridge tothe inner parts of the dwelling, she paused at the edge of the wallfor a moment, and gazed over the scene around. Youth is generally morefond of contemplating nature's handiwork than age. Mature life isusually spent in dealing with man and man's acts; the face of naturecomes upon us then as an impression rather than a subject ofcontemplation. To the young, it is full of interest and of wonder;imagination robes it in her own garmenture of light, peoples eachshady dell, fills the forest with her own creations, and calls up ineach village or church or tower a wild and agitated throng of feelingsand sensations, of hopes and fears, all the beings of the fancy,ephemeral though bright, confused though lively, impalpable thoughvivid. Youth sees more than the landscape,--age, sees it as it is; theone has its own sun-shine, to adorn all it looks upon; the other viewseverything under the shady cloud.

  Rose d'Albret stopped to gaze; then, notwithstanding the chilliness ofthe wintry air, she turned her eyes to the east over the gray lines,where the vanguard of the night was marching forward over the sky, andthen looked round to the west, where the rear of day was allglittering with golden light. What made her sigh? what made her fixher eyes upon a thin white film of mist that rose up from the deeperparts of the forest, like the smoke of a heath-burner's fire? Who cansay? who can trace along the magic chain of association, link by link,and tell how the objects within her sight connected themselves in hermind with her own situation, and made her remember that she had muchto regret?

  "You are thoughtful to-night, Rose," said the Marquis de Chazeul.

  "And may a woman never be thoughtful, Chazeul?" asked Rose d'Albret."If such be your creed, pray seek another wife, for you will oftenfind me so, I assure you."

  "Nay," replied Chazeul, "I would not disappoint you so for the world,sweet Rose; it would break your little heart if I were to take you atyour word."

  "No, indeed," replied the young lady, with perfect calmness; "you arequite mistaken, Chazeul, my heart is not so easily broken; and, as fordisappointment, it would be none at all; I am in that happy state,that, whatever be the event, I can bear it with calmness."

  "Or at all events, with affected indifference," replied her companion,a little nettled, "is it not so, Rose?"

  "Not at all," she answered; "you never saw me affect anything that Idid not feel. Here is father Walter, who has known me as long andbetter than yourself, can witness for me. Did you ever see me pretendto anything that is not real, Monsieur de la Tremblade?"

  "Never, my dear child," replied the priest; "and I should thinkMonsieur de Chazeul should be very well content to see you willing togive your hand to him according to your guardian's commands. In thefirst place, it shows that obedient disposition, on which so much of ahusband's happiness depends; and in the next place, it leaves him thesweet task
of teaching you to love him."

  "That is, if he can," said Rose d'Albret, with a smile; "but do youknow, my good father," she continued, "I would draw another inferencefrom the facts, which is simply this, that it would be better forMonsieur de Chazeul to give me longer time to learn that same lessonof love, and not to press forward this same marriage so hastily."

  "Nay, on my life," answered Chazeul, "it is Monsieur de Liancourt'sdoing, not mine; but I will acknowledge, sweet Rose, that my eagernessto possess so fair a flower may make me anxious to gather it withoutdelay, though my impatience may make me prick my fingers with thethorns, as I have done just now."

  "Well, I am in the hands of others," said Rose d'Albret; "I havenothing to do but to obey; and doubtless, in hurrying this matterforward, my guardian does what he thinks best for me."

  "He may have many reasons, dear daughter," said the priest, "he isold; times are troublesome and dangerous; none can tell what a day maybring forth; and it is a part of his duty to see you married and underthe protection of a younger and more active man than himself, beforehe is called to quit this busy scene."

  "Oh, I think, good father, I could protect myself," replied Rosed'Albret. "Those thorns my cousin De Chazeul talks of, would be quitehedge enough, I should imagine,--but hark, there are guns in thewood--and there again!"

  All listened, and two or three more shots were distinctly heard.

  "I thought we had a truce here?" said Rose d'Albret.

  "True, amongst ourselves," answered the Marquis de Chazeul; "but wecannot get others always to observe it; and 'tis not unlikely thatthese are a party of Henry de Bourbon's heretic soldiers wanderingabout, and committing some of their usual acts of violence andplunder. He is now besieging Dreux, I find."

  "Why, I have always heard," said Rose d'Albret, "that the King isstrict and scrupulous in restraining his soldiers from such excesses."

  "The King?" exclaimed Chazeul, with his lip curling. "Pray call himsome other name, sweet Rose. He may be a king of heretics, but he isno king of mine, nor of any other Catholics."

  "Hush, hush!" cried Walter de la Tremblade, "you must not let Monsieurde Liancourt hear you make such rash speeches. He acknowledges him asKing of right, though not in fact,--his religion being the only bar."

  "And that an insurmountable one," said the Marquis; "if he were toprofess himself converted to-morrow, who would believe him? I am surenot I."

  "Nay, cousin," replied Rose d'Albret, "one who is so frank and free,so true to all men, so strict a keeper of his word as the King isreported to be, would never falsify the truth in that. Remember, too,I am his humble cousin; for the counts of Marennes come from the samestock as the old kings of Navarre."

  "Ay, a hundred degrees removed," said Chazeul; "I have no fear, dearRose, of your blood being contaminated by his."

  "Well, it matters not," replied Rose d'Albret, with a laugh; "I intendto fall in love with him whenever I see him."

  "It might be better," observed Chazeul, "to try that with yourhusband."

  "Oh no," cried his fair companion, gaily; "that would be quitecontrary to all rule, Chazeul, especially amongst the ladies andgentlemen of the League. As far as I have heard, they have done awaywith all such foolish old customs; and loyalty to their king, or lovebetween husband and wife are amongst the errors of the past, whichthey quite repudiate." Chazeul bit his lip, and she went on, "I shouldlike to see this King, he is so gallant and so noble, I am sure Ishould love him--is he very handsome, Monsieur de Chazeul?"

  "I never saw him, Mademoiselle," answered the Marquis, somewhatbitterly, "except at such a distance that one could discover nothingbut the white plume in his hat, and on his horse's head."

  "I have seen him often, long ago," said the priest, "when he was amere youth, at the court of the Queen Mother; and then he was ashandsome a boy as ever my eyes lighted upon, with a skin so delicatelysoft, and such a warm colour in his cheek, one would have thought himlittle fitted for the rough, laborious, and perilous life he has sinceled."

  "Hark! there are guns again," exclaimed Rose d'Albret; and a suddencloud came over her brow. "I hope these people," she continued, aftera moment's pause, "are not attacking my cousin De Montigni."

  "They will soon make an end of him if they do," said Chazeul; "atleast I should suppose so."

  "You seem very indifferent to the matter," observed the lady quickly;"why do you imagine so?"

  "Simply because a book-read student, who has been passing the bestpart of his life within the walls of a college, can be no match formen of courage and of action," replied Chazeul.

  "Fie," replied Rose d'Albret, warmly; "Louis de Montigni has as muchcourage as any one. I can remember him before he went abroad, a wildrash boy, who used to frighten me by the daring things he did. But ifyou had any kindness in your nature, Chazeul, you would go out to helphim--in case it be he who is attacked. He must be on the road evennow; I wonder he is not arrived."

  "I will go and speak with Monsieur de Liancourt about it," repliedChazeul; and leaving the priest and the lady together, he retired fora short time from the walls.

  "Let us listen," said Rose d'Albret; and, leaning her arm upon thestone-work, she turned her ear towards the wood, bending down herbright eyes upon the ground, while the priest advanced, and standingbeside her gazed at her for a moment, and then looked out over thecountry beyond.

  During the whole conversation which had taken place, he had watchedher closely; and, well acquainted with her character from infancy, hehad read aright all that was passing in her mind. He saw that thecoldness which she displayed towards the man selected for her futurehusband was no assumed indifference, none of the coquettish excitementwhich many a woman learns too early to administer to the passion of afavoured lover, none of that holding back which is intended to leadforward; none of that reluctance which is affected but to be overcome.He perceived clearly enough that she was indifferent to him, andperhaps somewhat more; that she felt for him no respect--but littleesteem; and, though accustomed for some years to his society from timeto time, and habituated to look upon her marriage with him as an actthat was to be, that she now began to feel repugnance as the timeapproached for performing the contract, which had been entered into byothers without her knowledge or consent. In short, he saw that, thoughshe would obey, it would be unwillingly.

  The priest regretted that it was so; for he felt no slight affectiontowards her, though, as too often happens, he was ready to do all hecould, from other considerations, to promote a sacrifice which mightdestroy the happiness of one he loved almost as a child. The knowledgethat she was indifferent towards Chazeul might grieve him, but it didnot in the least induce him to pause in the course he had determinedto pursue; and he proceeded, after a few moments given to thought, todraw forth her sentiments further, while, at the same time, heendeavoured to work some change in her opinions.

  "He is certainly very handsome," said the priest abruptly; "do you notthink so?"

  "Who?" cried D'Albret, with a start. "Oh! Chazeul! Yes, perhaps he is;and yet not handsome either."

  "Indeed," said Walter de la Tremblade, "I think I never saw finerfeatures, or a more graceful form."

  "No, not graceful, surely," said the young lady. "Well-proportioned,perhaps, and his features are all good, it is true; but yet, father,there is something that makes him not handsome."

  "What?" asked the priest.

  "Nay, I cannot well tell," answered Mademoiselle d'Albret; "perhaps itis that his eyes are too close together--but I was thinking of DeMontigni, good father; I hope no mischance has befallen him."

  "Oh! I trust not!" answered her companion. "And so, Rose, this is theonly fault you can find with your lover's beauty, that his eyes aretoo close together! I can assure you, sweet lady, that the fair damesof Paris do not perceive that defect, and that you may have sometrouble to keep the heart you have won."

  "I wish--" said Rose d'Albret, but then she broke off suddenly,leaving the sentence unconcluded, and beginning again afresh, shead
ded, "Heaven knows, good father, that I took no pains to win hislove; and perhaps the best way to retain it when I am his wife, ifever that happens, will be to take no pains to keep it."

  "It will then be a duty to take pains," answered the priest, somewhatsternly; "we are not born, my daughter, in this life, to seek nothingbut our own pleasure and happiness. We are here to fulfil theimportant tasks assigned us by the Almighty, and clearly pointed outto us by the circumstances in which we are placed. To neglect them issinful, to perform them coldly is reprehensible; and it is ourgreatest wisdom, as well as our strictest duty, to labour that ourinclinations may go hand in hand with the performance of that whichGod has given us to do."

  "Nay," said Rose, laying her hand gently on the sleeve of his gown,"you speak severely, good father. I do not see how it is so clearlypointed out that I should marry Nicholas de Chazeul; and I do wishthat the ceremony were not hurried in this way. However, if I do wedhim, depend upon it I shall follow your counsel, and do my best tolove him. At all events," she added, raising her head somewhatproudly, "you may be sure, that under no circumstance will I forgetwhat is due to him and to myself. I may be an unhappy wife, but I willnever be a bad one."

  "That I doubt not, that I doubt not," said the priest warmly; "butwhat I wish to point out to you is, the way to happiness, daughter;and depend upon it you can but find it in doing your duty cheerfully."

  "I know it, my excellent friend," answered Rose, "and it shall be myendeavour so to act; but I could much desire before I take a vow tolove any one, that I had some better means of knowing how far I canfulfil it."

  "Oh! if you have the will to do so," answered father Walter, "it mayeasily be done."

  "What!" she cried eagerly, "easy to love a man one cannot esteem orrespect! I say not that such is the case in the present instance,father," she continued, seeing her companion fix his eyes upon herwith a look of surprise and inquiry; "I only state a case that mightbe. Suppose I were to find him cold, selfish, heartless, cruel,vicious, base, how should I love him then?"

  "But Monsieur de Chazeul is none of these," rejoined the priest.

  "I say not that he is," answered Rose d'Albret; "I only say he may befor aught I know. I knew him not in youth; and in manhood I have seenhim twice or thrice a year in circles where all men wear a mask. Iwould fain see him with his face bare, good father."

  "Few women ever so see their lovers," rejoined the priest; "love isthe greatest of all hypocrites."

  "Perhaps that is true," said Rose; "yet time, if a woman's eyes beunblinded by her own feelings, does generally, soon or late, draw backthe covering of the heart, so far as to show her some of the features.I have seen little: I would see more; for what I have seen makes medoubt."

  "Indeed!" exclaimed her companion, "what have you perceived to raisesuspicions? Some casual word, some slight jest, I warrant you; such ashe spoke just now about his cousin. Idle words, daughter! idle words,upon which you must put no harsh interpretation."

  "How often idle words betray the spirit within!" said Rose. "They arethe careless jailers which let the prisoner forth out of his secretdungeon. They have cost many a king his crown, if history be true;many a woman reputation, aye, and perhaps, many a lover his lady'shand. But what I wish is to hear more than idle words, to see morethan a masked face; and, I do beseech you, aid me to delay thismarriage for a time. Why was I not told earlier? Why was all arrangedwithout my knowledge? Louis de Montigni has been summoned back morethan a month, and yet I have had but one week, one poor week, allowedme to prepare my thoughts, to nerve my heart for the great change ofwoman's existence. Marriage, to man, is but a pageant, a ball, afestival. To us, it is one of the sole events. It is birth or death towoman. I do beseech you, father, if you have ever loved me, if youhave watched over my youth, counselled me rightly, enlightened andinstructed my mind, led me on in honour, virtue, faith--I do beseechyou, aid me but to delay this ceremony. I feel not rightly here," andshe laid her hand upon her bosom.

  "I cannot promise to do so, my sweet child," replied the priest. "Themarriage is decided; your guardian's word is given; and I cannot butthink it may be well for all, that the final seal be put to theengagement as soon as may be."

  "Do you?" said Mademoiselle d'Albret; but there she stopped, for atthat moment Chazeul appeared again at a little distance; and Walter dela Tremblade advanced towards him. The next moment, however, shemurmured to herself, "They have gained him; and I am alone!"

  A change came over her from that instant, and when, after speaking aword together, the other two rejoined her, she was cheerful if notgay.

  "The Count declares it is some loose party stealing the deer," saidChazeul, as he approached; "and thought it needless to send out tosee, as, in these days, when one can hardly secure the corn of one'sfields, or the fruits of one's vineyard, it were a vain hope to keepthe game of one's woods."

  "Well, he knows best," replied Rose d'Albret; "and now, good cousin ofChazeul, do tell me, what is to be the fate of France? How often isyour great friend the Duke to be defeated, before he succeeds incrushing heresy, excluding the King from the throne, and putting someone on that thorny seat instead?"

  "He will be defeated, as you term it, no more, fair lady," answeredthe Marquis; "for if report speaks true, he is even now marchingagainst Henry of Bourbon with a force that shall crush him and hisapostates, as men tread down an ants' nest."

  "Indeed?" asked his fair companion; "then there will be a battlesoon?"

  "Within three days, men think," replied Chazeul.

  "And of course you will be present?" said Rose d'Albret.

  But the colour rose in her lover's cheek while he replied, "Nay, Icannot quit my bride and give up my bridal for any cause."

  "True! men would say it was an ungallant gallantry," she replied; "andyet ladies love heroic acts I have heard. God help us! We women, Ibelieve, but little know what we would have."

  "That is very true," said the priest; "and, therefore, fair daughter,it is wisely arranged that others should decide for them."

  "Perhaps so," answered the lady; "but one thing is certain, they woulddo so, whether it were better for us or not."

  They then walked on once or twice along the whole range of the rampartwithout speaking, each seemingly busy with thoughts which they did notchoose to utter; till at length the lady resumed the conversation on anew theme: "Methinks, cousin of Chazeul, the court in its days ofsplendour, must have been a gay place."

  "It was, indeed," replied the Marquis, glad of a subject which enabledhim to speak more freely; "I know nought so brilliant on the face ofthe earth as was the court of Henry of Valois, some five years beforehis death; but I trust ere long we shall see a monarch who will holdas bright a one, without displaying his weaknesses; and then I trustRose de Chazeul will shine amongst the very first in splendour, and inbeauty."

  "I am determined," she answered, with a smile, "if ever I appear atthe court, to have a coronet of diamonds fashioned into roses, to bearout my name."

  "Oh trust to me," cried Chazeul, "trust to me, to find devices whichshall make you outshine the Queen."

  "Ha! there come a party over the hills," cried Mademoiselle d'Albret."It is De Montigni, I am sure;" and running forward to the edge of therampart, she looked forth; but, as she did so, she murmured, "Do theythink to buy and sell me for a goldsmith's toy?"

  Her two companions joined her in a moment; and, as the partyapproached, she waved her hand as we have before related, gailybeckoning her cousin. He did not raise his eyes, however; and with anair of some mortification, she said, "He will not look up!"

  "He is bashful," said Chazeul; "too much study makes but a timidgentleman."

  "So they say," replied Rose d'Albret; "but let us in and meet him atall events."