La Dame de Monsoreau (81 page)

The natural result of these cries, all springing from the same

cause and having the same object, was, as we have seen, a frightful tumult in the streets, and many of the crowd that ran out of doors to discover what was the matter were beaten black and blue by the warriors, who, in their terror, were making the most violent efforts to force a passage through their inquisitive fellow-townsmen.

It was at this moment that the noise of the uproar reached the castle, where, as we have said, the Due d'Anjou was sampling the black bread, sour herrings, and dried cod of his partisans.

Bussy and the prince made inquiries ; they were told that the entire disturbance was created by three demons in human guise from Paris. '

" Three men!" said the prince ; " go and see who they are, Bussy."

" Three men ! " repeated Bussy; " come along with me, monseigneur."

And the two started, Bussy in front, the prince prudently following him, and accompanied by a score of horsemen.

They arrived just as the citizen soldiers were about to execute the manoeuvre of which we have spoken, to the great detriment of the skulls and shoulders of the curious.

Bussy stood up in his stirrups, and his eagle eye soon recognized the long face of Livarot.

" Mort de ma vie ! Come on, monseigneur ; it is our friends of Paris who are besieging us."

" No! " answered Livarot, in a voice of thunder; " it is, on the contrary, your friends of Anjou who are having a fling at us."

" Down with your weapons ! " cried the duke ; " down with your weapons, knaves ; these are friends."

" Friends ! " cried the ill-treated, bruised, and wounded warriors. " Friends! Then why has not the watchword been given to them ? For a full hour we have been treating them like pagans, and they have been treating us like Turks."

And the retreat of the citizen soldiers was now accomplished in regular order.

Livarot, Antraguet, and Blbeirac marched triumphantly into the space left vacant by the retreat of their antagonists, and hurried eagerly to kiss the hand of his highness; after which, each in his turn embraced Bussy.

" Monseigneur," whispered the latter in his master's ear, " count the number of your soldiers present."

" For what purpose ? "

" Oh, no matter. I don't want you to count them one by one, but try and guess at the number."

" I suppose there might be a hundred and fifty, at least."

"At least —yes."

" Well, what do you mean ? "

" I mean that they must be a rather strange sort of soldiers, since three men beat them."

" Quite true," said the duke. " What follows ? "

" ,What follows ? You would n't think of venturing out of the city with such a rabble-rout as that ! ''

"Yes," answered the duke, "for I'll make sure to take with me the three men who have beaten them."

"Ugh!" murmured Bussy to himself. "I had never thought of that. Your dastard is your only true logician.'-'

CHAPTER LX.

ROLAND.

THANKS to the arrival of these three partisans, the Due d'Anjou was enabled to make investigations in every quarter outside the walls of his city.

Accompanied by the friends who had arrived at such an opportune moment, he moved about surrounded by all the pomp of war, to the immense pride of the honest citizens, although a comparison between the well-mounted, well-equipped gentlemen in his train and the urban militia, with its splintered and rusty armor, would hardly redound to the advantage of the latter.

First he reconnoitred the ramparts ; then the gardens bordering on the ramparts ; then the country bordering 011 the gardens; lastly the castles scattered over this country. And he expressed his contempt, in his most arrogant manner, for the woods that had lately been such objects of terror to him, or, rather, which Bussy had rendered such objects of terror to him.

The Angevine gentlemen who had arrived had plenty of money.

They enjoyed at the court of the Due d'Anjou a freedom they were far from experiencing at the court of Henri III. ;

they could not fail, therefore, to lead a joyous life in a city which was disposed — as is, indeed, the duty of every capital that respects itself to do — to rifle the purses of its guests.

Before three days had slipped by Antraguet, Kibeirac, and Livarot had become intimate with such of the Angevine nobles as had a partiality for the modes and fashions of Paris.

It is hardly necessary to state that these worthy lords were married and had young and pretty wives.

So it was not for his own individual pleasure, as might have been supposed by those acquainted with the selfishness of the Due d'Anjou, that he created the splendid pageants and cavalcades that became now common in the city. Oh, 110.

These processions were a source of pleasure to the Parisian gentlemen who had joined him, to the Angevine nobles, and, above all, to the Angevine ladies.

God must have taken especial delight in them, for the cause of the League was also God's cause.

On the other hand, they must have, undoubtedly, exasperated the King.

But what matter ? The ladies were delighted.

So the great Trinity of the period was duly represented: God, the King, and the ladies.

The general joy was at its height when twenty-two riding-horses, thirty carriage-horses, and forty mules, with litters, carriages, and wagons, were seen to enter Angers, all for the special service of his highness the Due d'Anjou.

The entire equipment had been purchased at Tours for the trifling sum of fifty thousand crowns, which the duke had laid aside for this purpose. ,

We must admit that, though the horses were saddled, the saddles were not paid for; we must also admit that, though the coffers had magnificent locks, arid had been locked with great care, the coffers were empty.

It is but fair to point out, however, that the last circumstance was greatly to the prince's credit, since he might have filled them by the employment of extortionate measures.

Still, it was not in his nature to take things openly; he preferred to purloin them.

Nevertheless, the entrance of this long train produced a magnificent effect in Angers.

The horses were sent to the stables, the carriages to the coach-houses.

The coffers were carried by the prince's most trusty confidants.

It would have been worse than madness to confide to unsafe hands the sums they did not contain.

At length, the palace gates were shut in the face of an excited multitude, convinced by this far-seeing plan that the prince had just brought two millions into the city, while, on the contrary, the empty coffers, if they could speak, would say that they expected to leave the city with something like that amount.

The Due d'Anjou's reputation for opulence was, from that day forward, solidly established ; and the whole province was positive, after the spectacle it had witnessed, that he was rich enough to make war on all Europe, if he chose.

This confidence was a great help to the citizens in enabling them to bear patiently the new taxes which, by the advice of his friends, the prince had decided to levy on the Angevines.

We never regret the money we lend or give to the rich.

The King of Navarre, with his reputation for poverty, would never have obtained a quarter of the success which the Due d'Anjou obtained through his reputation for wealth.

But let us return to our duke.

The excellent prince was living like a patriarch; in fact, living on the fat of the land, and every one knows Anjou is a fat country.

The highways were covered with horsemen galloping to Angers to make their submission to the prince or offer him their services.

M. d'Anjou, on his side, did not conceal the fact that all his explorations had in view the finding of some treasure or other.

So Bussy took good care that none of these explorations should be pushed as far as the castle inhabited by Diane.

There was a treasure there that Bussy reserved for himself alone, a treasure which, after defending itself in due form, had at last surrendered at discretion.

Now, while M. d'Anjou was exploring in hopes of finding a treasure, and while Bussy was guarding his, M. de Mon-soreau, mounted on his hunter, was drawing nigh the gates of Angers.

It was about four in the afternoon, and, to arrive at that hour, M. de Monsoreau had ridden fifty-four miles.

So, his spurs were red; and his horse, white with foam, was half dead.

Those who came to the city gates now had no difficulty in passing through; in fact, the worthy burghers had grown so proud and scornful that they would have let in a battalion of Swiss without making the slightest objection, though these Swiss were commanded by the brave Crillon himself.

M. de Monsoreau, who was not a Crillon, rode straight through, merely saying:

" I am going to the palace of his highness the Due d'Anjou."

He did not wait for the answer of the guards who shouted their answer after him.

His horse kept on his legs, the marvellous equilibrium of the animal being apparently due to the speed at which he was travelling. The poor beast held his ground, but it looked as if he should fall as soon as he came to a stop. He halted at the palace; M. de Monsoreau was a splendid equestrian, his steed was a thoroughbred ; both horse and rider remained standing.

" M. le Due ! " cried the grand huntsman.

"His highness has gone with a reconnoitring party," answered the sentry.

" Where ? " asked M. de Monsoreau.

" In that direction," said the sentry, pointing to one of the four cardinal points.

." The devil! " said Monsoreau, " what I had to say to the prince cannot be delayed. What am I to do ? "

" Put your horse in the stable," was the answer, " for, if you don't prop him against a wall, he'll drop."

" Your advice is prudent. Where are the stables, my good fellow."

" Down below, monsieur."

At this moment a man approached the gentleman and gave him his name and rank.

It was the major-domo.

M. de Monsoreau, in turn, told his name, surname, and rank.

The major-domo bowed respectfully ; the grand huntsman's name was well known in Anjou.

" Monsieur," said he, " have the goodness to enter and take some repose. His highness went out about ten minutes ago, and will not be back before eight to-night."

" Eight to-night," rejoined M. de Monsoreau, biting his mustache. " I should have to lose too much time. I am the bearer of

important intelligence which the prince must know at once. Can you furnish me with a horse and guide ? "

" A horse! you can have ten, monsieur," said the major-domo ; " but as for a guide, it is a different matter. Monsei-gneur has not told any one where he is going, so a guide could do nothing for you ; besides, I should not care to lessen the number of soldiers in the garrison. I have been specially charged by his highness not to do so. 7 '

" Ah ! " exclaimed the grand huntsman, " so you are not safe here ? "

" Oh, monsieur, there is always safety in the company of such men as Messieurs Bussy, Livarot, Eibeirac, and Antraguet, without counting our invincible prince, his highness the Due d'Anjou ; but you understand "-

" Yes, I understand that, when they are absent, there is less security."

" Undoubtedly, monsieur."

" Then I shall take a fresh horse from the stable and try to come up with his highness by making inquiries."

" There is reason for hoping that, by doing so, you may come on the track of his highness."

" Did the cavalcade gallop when it started ? "

" No, it went slowly."

" Very well, that settles it; show me the horse I am to take."

" Go into the stable, monsieur, and choose for yourself; they all belong to his highness."

" Very well."

Monsoreau entered the stable.

Ten or twelve of the finest and freshest horses were feeding at mangers filled with the most palatable grain and provender to be found in Anjou.

" There they are," said the major-domo, " you can choose."

Monsoreau looked at the animals with the eye of a connoisseur.

" I '11 take that brown bay," said he; " have him saddled."

" Roland ? " asked the major-domo.

" He is 'called Roland, then ? "

" Yes, he is the favorite horse of his highness, who rides him every day; he was given to him by M. de Bussy, and, certainly, you would not have found him in the stable to-day only that his highness wished to try some new horses he has received from Tours,"

" Well, you see I am not a very bad judge."

A groom approached.

" Saddle Roland," said the major-domo.

As to Monsoreau's own steed, he had entered the stable of his own accord and lain down on the litter without waiting until his harness was taken off.

Eoland was saddled in a few seconds.

Monsoreau leaped lightly 011 his back and inquired a second time in what direction the cavalcade had started.

" It started through that gate and followed yonder street," answered the major-domo, pointing in the direction already indicated by the sentry.

" Upon my word," said Monsoreau, on perceiving that, when he slackened the reins, the horse took that very road, " Roland acts as if he were following the scent."

" Oh, do not be uneasy," said the major-domo. " I heard M. de Bussy and his physician, M. Reiny, say that Roland is the most intelligent animal in existence. As soon as he catches the odor of his comrades, he will join them j see what beautiful legs he has — a stag might envy them."

Monsoreau leaned over to look at them.

" Magnificent," said he.

In fact, the animal started off without waiting for whip or spur, and passed deliberately out of the city; he even took a short cut, before reaching the gate, at a point where the road was bifurcated, the path to the left being circular, that to the right straight, and thus abridged the distance.

While giving this proof of his intelligence, the horse shook his head is if to escape from the bridle which weighed on his lips; he seemed to be saying to his rider that compulsion was entirely unnecessary, and, the nearer he approached the city gate, the more rapid was his pace.

" Really," murmured Monsoreau, " he deserves all the praise he has received; very well, as you know your way so perfectly, go on, Roland, go on."

And he dropped the reins on the horse's neck.

When Roland reached the outer boulevard he hesitated a moment to consider whether he should turn to the right or left.

He turned to the left.

A peasant was just then passing.

" Have you seen a company of horsemen, my friend ? " asked Monsoreau.

" Yes, monsieur," answered the rustic. " I met them yonder, in front of you."

The peasant pointed exactly in the direction which Roland had taken.

" Go on, Roland, go on," said the grand huntsman, slackening the reins of his steed, who broke into a trot that, if continued for an hour, would carry him ten or twelve miles.

The horse, after following the boulevard for some time, suddenly wheeled to the right and entered a flowery lane, which cut across the country.

Mbnsoreau was in doubt whether he should stop Roland or not, but the animal appeared to know his business so thoroughly that he decided not to interfere with him.

According as the horse advanced, he grew more and more lively, passed from a trot to a gallop, and, in less than a quarter of an hour, the city had vanished from the eyes of his rider.

Monsoreau, too, seemed to recognize the localities, the farther he advanced.

" Why," said he, on entering a wood, " it looks as if one were going to Meridor. Can his highness have ridden in the direction of the castle ? "

And his face grew black at the thought which had now entered his mind for the first time.

" Ah!" he murmured, " I who came first to see the prince, and put off my visit to my wife till to-morrow! What if I should have the happiness to see them both at the same time ? "

A terrible smile passed over the lips of the grand huntsman.

The horse never slackened his pace, always keeping to the right with a tenacity that showed how perfectly he knew the direction in which he was going.

"Why, upon my soul," thought Monsoreau, "I am sure now that I cannot be very far from the park of Meridor."

At this moment the horse began to neigh.

There was immediately a responsive neigh from the depth of the foliage.

" Ah," said the grand huntsman to himself, " apparently Roland has found his comrade."

The horse now went with double speed, passing like a flash under the tall trees.

Suddenly Monsoreau saw a wall and a horse fastened near the wall.

This horse neighed, and Monsoreau knew it was the same horse that had neighed before.

" There is some one here !" said he, turning pale.

CHAPTEE LXI.

WHAT M. DE MONSOREAU CAME TO ANNOUNCE.

THERE was a renewal of M. de Monsoreau's amazement at every turn; the wall of Meridor, suddenly revealed to him as it were by enchantment, and yonder horse's acquaintance and friendliness with the horse he rode, were circumstances certainly calculated to raise suspicions in the most sceptical soul.