Chapter IV: Book II: The Flight (2)

By noon both the Grand-Master and the Duke de Longueville had quitted Moulins with their men, and were marching towards La Palisse. Saint-Vallier accompanied them. Warthy, however, remained, and Bourbon submitted to the annoyance of his frequent visits. If Jean de l'Hôpital could be believed, no improvement had taken place in the Constable's health.

Three days passed in this manner, but, on the morning of the fourth, Warthy made his appearance in a riding-dress, booted and spurred, and informed the Constable, who was lying on his couch as usual, and attended by his physicians, that he was about to set out for Lyons to make a report in person to the king.

“Express my profound regrets to his majesty that I am not able to join him,” said Bourbon, secretly overjoyed by the anticipated departure of his tormentor, “As you yourself must have perceived, I am rather worse than better, and my physicians tell me--and indeed I myself perceive--that there is no prospect of immediate improvement, I would pray the king, therefore, not to wait for me longer, but to set out on his expedition.”

“I will convey your highness's message,” replied Warthy. “But I know the king will be grievously disappointed.”

“My own disappointment is greater than his majesty's can be, sir. I pray you assure him so,” rejoined Bourbon.

A slightly incredulous smile passed over Warthy's shrewd features at this observation. However, he made no remark, but, taking leave of the Constable, set out on his journey, mounted on a fleet steed, which soon carried him several leagues on his way.

No sooner was Bourbon freed from the restraint imposed upon him by the importunate spy, than he commenced preparations, and despatched a body of men with arms and ammunition, under the command of Captain Saint-Saphorin, to his château of Chantelle, instructing them to put that fortress at once into a state of complete defence.

“I shall be there myself in a few days,” he said to Saint-Saphorin. “Moulins, I find, is quite untenable.”

This state of repose was not of long continuance. Warthy, who had been provided with relays of the fleetest horses, was back again in an incredibly short time, and Bourbon, to his infinite annoyance, was obliged to resume his couch. He received the spy in a very ill humour, but Warthy did not appear to heed his displeasure.

“Highness,” he said, “the king is much offended. He will not believe you are so ill as you represent. And he commands you, on your allegiance, to join him without delay.”

“That is wholly impossible, sir,” interposed Jean de l'Hôpital. “The Lord Constable is far too ill to travel. I fear you have not explained fully his dangerous condition to the king.”

“I have reported all I have seen,” replied Warthy. “But his majesty will take no more excuses.”

“Excuses, sir!” cried Bourbon, fiercely. “Dare you insinuate----”

“I but repeat the king's message to your highness,” replied Warthy. “His majesty, as I have said, is highly offended, and declares he will no longer be trifled with. He peremptorily orders you to join him at Lyons without delay. If you fail to do so----” And he hesitated to proceed.

“Well, sir--what if I fail?” demanded Bourbon, slightly raising himself, and fixing a stern glance on the messenger, “His majesty will send the Grand-Master and Marshal de Chabannes with three thousand lansquenets to fetch you,” rejoined Warthy.

“Mort-Dieu! am I to be told this?” cried Bourbon.

And he would have sprung from the couch, if the two physicians had not thrown themselves upon him, and held him forcibly down.

“You will betray yourself if you give way thus,” whispered Jean do l'Hôpital. “I pray your highness to be calm.”

Yielding to the advice, the Constable controlled himself by a great effort.

There was a pause, during which the spy remained intently watching the Constable.

“What answer shall I return to his majesty?” asked Warthy, at length.

“Say I will come,” replied Bourbon.

“Highness, it is not possible that you can travel,” said Jean de l'Hôpital. “His majesty cannot desire your death.”

“It would seem as though he did,” rejoined Bourbon. “But, be the consequences what they may, I will set out to-morrow. Tell his majesty so,” he added to Warthy. “When do you return to Lyons?”

“Within an hour,” was the reply. “I am charged to come back instantly, and, as I have relays of horses, I shall not be long on the road. His majesty will be well content with your highness's determination.”

And, with a profound bow, he quitted the room.

“May the devil go with him!” exclaimed Bourbon, as he sprang from his couch. “If I detain this spy,” he thought, “the king will execute his threat, and send the Grand-Master and Chabannes to take me. Here, in this château, I can offer no resistance, but in Chantelle I may stand a siege, and hold up till I can obtain reinforcements. I must proceed thither without delay.”

As soon as Warthy had departed, a conference was held between Bourbon and his followers, in which it was agreed on all hands that it would not be safe to remain longer at Moulins, and it was therefore decided to remove to Chantelle, a fortress in Auvergne, which the Constable considered impregnable. This decision being arrived at, preparations for departure were made with all possible despatch.

Determining to take with him all his treasure and valuables, Bourbon emptied his coffers, and caused their contents, amounting to more than thirty thousand golden crowns of the sun, to be sewn up in stout leathern bags. In like manner his jewels and other valuables were removed from their caskets, and packed up in valises. Could he have done so, he would have carried off his silver drinking-vessels and plate as well. These preparations made, the majority of the conspirators, escorted by a troop of three hundred men-at-arms, fully equipped, quitted the chateau at nightfall, and proceeded towards Auvergne. The bags containing the gold pieces were entrusted to veteran soldiers. The young seigneurs took charge of the jewels.

Bourbon's object being to gain time, he did not accompany the troop, but tarried till the following morning, when, pretending that he was about to join the king at Lyons, he entered his litter, and attended by his physicians, and by a small escort commanded by Pomperant, proceeded along the beautiful valley of the Allier towards La Palisse, where he rested for the night.

Next day he continued his journey across a hilly tract of country to a small town, all the time keeping close within his litter. On the third day he reached Changy, and here his physicians gave out that the journey had seriously aggravated his malady, and that it was utterly impossible for him to proceed farther at present. Bourbon's design was to wait at Changy till he could obtain intelligence of the king's movements from secret agents whom he had despatched for the purpose to Lyons.

Before these messengers could return, Warthy made his appearance at Changy, and, being informed of the Constable's increased illness, to which he attached little credence, sought an interview with him, This was granted without difficulty, and the spy found the duke in bed, with his physicians in attendance upon him.

“You see, sir,” he remarked to Warthy, “I have made every effort to comply with his majesty's commands, but my strength has entirely failed me. However, I feel somewhat better to-day, and to-morrow I hope to reach Roanne. I pray you return to the king, and tell him how you have found me.”

“My orders are not to quit your highness,” rejoined Warthy; “and if I return without you, I am persuaded his majesty will put his threats into execution, and order your immediate arrest.”

“His majesty will act as he deems best. I must decline further discourse with you,” said Bourbon, turning from him.

Warthy felt almost certain he was duped by the Constable and his physicians, but as some doubts still lingered in his mind, he determined to return to Lyons, where he arrived early next morning. From the report given him by the spy, François felt convinced of the Constable's duplicity.

“He is playing me false,” he said. “But I will baffle his schemes. Return to him at once, and do not leave him again. If any further difficulties arise, despatch messengers to me, and I will send the Grand-Marshal and the Marshal de Chabannes to seize him.”

IX. CHANTELLE.

|The indefatigable Warthy departed on his mission. On arriving at Changy his worst suspicions were verified. The sick man and his attendants were no longer there. But instead of pursuing his route towards Lyons, as he had promised, the Constable had turned back towards Moulins.

Despatching a messenger to the king with this information, Warthy rode on to La Palisse, and thence to Varennes, where, it appeared, the Constable had laid aside all disguise, and, abandoning his litter, had mounted a charger, and ridden off with his suite to the Château de la Chantelle, in Auvergne. Disregarding the risk he might incur in following him, Warthy despatched a second messenger to the king, and started in pursuit. He was only a few hours behind the Constable, and being well mounted, hoped to overtake him before he arrived at Chantelle.

Speeding across the wide plain of the Allier, skirted on the east by the mountains of Forez, he soon reached the small town of Saint-Pourçain, where he obtained a fresh horse, and ascertained, at the same time, that the Constable and his attendants were only two or three leagues in advance of him. From Saint-Pourçain he entered the vale of the Sioule, and, pursuing his course by the side of the river, soon found himself among the mountains of Auvergne.

The region he had now gained was highly picturesque, but Warthy noted little of its beauties, being engrossed by the thought of the dangerous errand on which he was bent. But, though fully aware of the risk he incurred, Warthy did not shrink from it.

After tracking the sinuous course of the river through the mountains, whose funnel-shaped cones and rifted sides proclaimed them to be extinct volcanoes, and remarking several ancient strongholds, perched on commanding points, he emerged into a broad plain watered by the Sioule, whose course he had hitherto followed. He now plainly descried the lordly château of Chantelle, about two leagues off situated on a rocky eminence, the base of which was washed by the river. It was a vast and strongly-built fortress, and from its position seemed well capable of standing a siege.

As Warthy's eye ranged over the intervening district he caught sight of a troop of horsemen, whose arms were glittering in the sunbeams, and entertaining no doubt that the cavalcade consisted of Bourbon and his attendants, he set spurs to his charger and galloped on. But swiftly as he speeded, to overtake the Constable was now impossible, and he was still half a league off, when he beheld the train pass through the outer gates of the castle.

As he approached yet nearer to the fortress, he plainly perceived that it had been put into a state of defence, the ramparts and bastions being armed with ordnance of large size, and the towers with culverins and falconets. Sentinels were pacing to and fro on the battlements, and a guard was stationed on the outer gate. From the summit of the donjon floated Bourbon's haughty standard, which had been unfurled immediately after his arrival. The din of martial instruments resounded from the outer court of the castle, and when Warthy, after some little delay, obtained admittance, he found the enclosure full of armed men.

Bourbon had not thrown off his riding-cloak, and was Conversing with Tansannes, Saint-Saphorin, and others, in a great hall with a roof supported by rafters of chesnut, and walls adorned with trophies of the chase--huge antlers, skins of bears, wolves, foxes, wild cats, and marmots, with which the adjacent mountains abounded---when the arrival of the king's messenger was announced.

The Constable ordered him to be at once admitted, and on his appearance, said to him, in a jocular tone, “What! here already, Messire de Warthy! You spur me hard, my friend.”

“Your highness must have better spurs than mine, since you have got here first,” replied Warthy, in the same tone. “I am glad to find you can ride so well. You can now have no reasonable excuse for disobeying the king's injunctions. I hope you will accompany me to Lyons.”

“A truce to this, sir!” cried Bourbon, changing his manner. “I have come hither to be free from the persecution to which I have been subjected. Unless I have the king's written promise to restore me my possessions, I will not stir from this castle. If he refuses my just demand, there will be a war in France more dreadful than any the kingdom has yet endured.”

“I grieve to hear your highness threaten rebellion, for I can only so construe your words,” replied Warthy, courageously. “It is not for me to predict what his majesty's reply will be to your demand, but I fancy it will be conveyed by the Grand-Master and the Marshal de Chabannes, at the head of an overwhelming force.”

“I am of opinion that the king will return a very different answer, sir,” said Bourbon. “He knows he has treated me unjustly, and when he finds I am in a position to obtain redress, he will offer it. But be his decision what it may, I am prepared.”

“I would fain remonstrate with your highness before you take this terrible step,” said Warthy. “Powerful as you are, you cannot resist the king.”

“That remains to be seen, sir. I am resolved to have justice, which has been so long denied me.”

“Then at the hazard of my life I must perform mv duty,” rejoined Warthy, boldly. “I now proclaim to all your followers that if they shall aid you in holding this castle against their sovereign lord and king, to whom, and not to you, they owe fealty and homage, they will be guilty of lèse-majesté, and will be treated as rebels and traitors.”

“Will your highness allow this insolent fellow to brave you thus?” cried Pomperant, furiously. “Order his instant execution.”

Warthy did not blench, though he felt he was in a most critical position.

“Remember, I am sent hither by the king,” he said.

“The king cannot save you!” cried Tansannes.

“No, but he can avenge me,” replied Warthy, resolutely.

“The audacious spy deserves a dog's death,” cried François du Peloux. “Let him be hanged at once.”

“Or flung from the battlements,” said Saint-Saphorin.

“No,” said Bourbon; “he has given his tongue unwarrantable license, but he has come hither as the king's messenger, and his person is safe. You must be content to remain here till to-morrow, Messire de Warthy, when you will take a letter from me to the king. The Bishop of Autun, who is here, shall accompany you, in order that he may explain my conduct to his majesty.”

“I must perforce remain as long as your highness chooses,” replied Warthy.

“You ought to thank me for detaining you,” said Bourbon. “You must want rest after your journey. See that all care be taken of him,” he added to an attendant.

Upon this Warthy withdrew.

After inspecting the garrison, Bourbon proceeded to examine the defences of the fortress, to make sure of its capability of resisting a siege. The examination was very carefully conducted, and occupied several hours. At its conclusion, he held a private conference with all his chief adherents, at which it was unanimously agreed that the place was not strong enough to hold out against the powerful army which would infallibly be sent to besiege t by the king.

“If it should fall before I can be reinforced, my cause will be ruined,” said Bourbon; “and the German lanz-knechts enrolled by the Archduke Ferdinand, though already assembled in the Franche-Comté, will not dare to enter France while the king remains at Lyons. For my own part,” he continued, “I am satisfied that his majesty is too much alarmed to quit the kingdom at present, and if he should decide on crossing the Alps, he will assuredly leave behind him an army of six or seven thousand men. The presence of such a force will prevent the contemplated rising, and the nobles of Auvergne, whom I had summoned by the arrière-ban to unite at Roanne, will disperse without striking a blow. What is to be done under these circumstances? Shall we retire to Carlat? Though more inaccessible, that castle is no better able to stand a siege than the fortress we now occupy.”

“To be shut up amid the mountains might be fatal,” remarked Tansannes. “Let us make the best of our way to the Franche-Comté, where your highness can put yourself at the head of the German lanz-knechts.”

“The lanz-knechts are already commanded by two able leaders, the Counts Wilhelm and Felix de Furstenberg,” replied Bourbon. “I will not become a fugitive from my own territories while there is a chance of holding them. A few days will now decide. My letter, which will be conveyed to the king by Warthy, will bring the matter to a crisis. If, as I fear, his majesty should abandon his expedition to Italy, nothing will be left for us but flight.”

Next day, Warthy left the castle, accompanied by the Bishop of Autun. On the farther side of La Palisse they encountered the Marshal de Chabannes and the Grand Master, who were marching at the head of a large force, consisting of light horsemen and fantassins, to seize the Constable. On discovering this force, the bishop contrived to send off a messenger to warn Bourbon.

The bishop himself was arrested, and sent on to Lyons with a guard, under the charge of Warthy.

X. HOW THE BISHOP OF AUTUN AND THE COMTE DE SAINT-VALLIER WERE ARRESTED.

|On a plain, outside the fair city of Lyons, was encamped the army destined for the expedition to Italy. In the midst of the camp stood the royal tent. Thither the Bishop of Autun was taken by Warthy. François had just returned from inspecting his troops. His towering figure was sheathed in glittering steel, but he had taken off his plumed helm and given it to a page, at the moment when the bishop was brought in.

After glancing at the Constable's letter, which was delivered to him by Warthy, François tore it in pieces, exclaiming furiously, “Does the audacious traitor venture to treat me as an equal, and propose terms to me! Foi de gentilhomme! I will lower his pride. Hitherto I have acted too leniently towards him, but now he shall feel my power. I have striven to save him, but since he is insensible to my kindness, and will rush upon his ruin, e'en let him perish!”

“Your majesty forgets that you have driven the Constable to desperation,” said the Bishop of Autun. “Could he have placed faith in your promises, he would be with you now. I implore your majesty to make terms with him, and, by so doing, avoid a most disastrous war.”

“My lord bishop,” said the king, sternly, “I will not hear a word in the traitor's behalf. He can expect no grace from me, and, by Saint Louis! he shall have none. He thinks himself safe in Chantelle, but I will take it in a week; and if he seeks refuge in the mountains of Auvergne, I will hunt him down like a wild beast. I will proclaim him as a rebel and traitor throughout the realm, and set a price of ten thousand golden crowns upon his head. All who shall harbour him, or assist him or any of His followers, shall be held guilty of treason. And now, my lord bishop, a word with you. You are concerned in this conspiracy, and, if you would obtain grace and restoration to my favour, you will not hesitate to reveal all you know respecting it.”

“I have nothing to reveal, sire,” replied the bishop.

“You are the depositary of the Constable's secrets, my lord,” remarked François, sternly.

“Whatever his highness may have confided to me under the seal of confession, is sacred, sire,” rejoined the bishop.

“That excuse will not avail you, my lord. You are bound to disclose a conspiracy against your sovereign. By Saint Louis! I _will_ have the truth. All those who are in any way implicated in the plot, or suspected, shall be immediately arrested. One of the chief conspirators is already in my power. I will interrogate him at once. Bring the Comte de Saint-Vallier before me,” he added to Warthy. “You will find him in the adjoining tent, with his daughter, the Comtesse de Maulévrier.”

“Am I to arrest him, sire?” demanded Warthy.

The king replied in the affirmative, and Warthy departed on his errand, returning presently with Saint-Vallier, who was guarded by two halberdiers.

Just as François was about to interrogate the prisoner, Diane de Poitiers rushed into the tent, and threw herself at the king's feet, exclaiming:

“My father has been unjustly accused, sire. He is no traitor.”

“I trust he may be able to clear himself, madame,” rejoined the king, raising her gently. “But as it will be painful to you to listen to his examination, I must pray you to retire.”

“You have disobeyed my injunctions in coming hither, Diane,” said Saint-Vallier, reproachfully. “Your presence adds to my trouble. Go, I implore you!”

“No, no, I will not leave you,” she rejoined. “I may be able to plead your cause. I can show his majesty that he has not a more loyal subject than yourself--that you are incapable of the crime with which you are charged--and that if there should be a conspiracy headed by the Duke de Bourbon, which I cannot--will not--believe, you have no part in it.”

“Can the Comte dc Saint-Vallier himself give me such assurance, madame?” said the king.

“Undoubtedly, sire,” replied Diane. “Speak, father! You have no share in any plot?”

“I know of no plot,” rejoined Saint-Vallier. “But I am well aware that I have many enemies, who would not hesitate to accuse me falsely. Who charges me with conspiracy against your majesty?” he added to the king.

“I do,” replied Warthy. “I charge you with leaguing with the king's enemies, and I will bring proof of what I assert.”

“I defy you to do so,” replied Saint-Vallier; “and if the combat be permitted me by his majesty, I will force you, at the point of the sword, to confess that you have accused me falsely.”

“You must establish your innocence by other means than the combat,” rejoined the king. “You have long been Bourbon's confidential friend and adviser. You have been staying with him at the Château de Moulins. Is it not certain, then, that you must be privy to his designs?”

“Presumption is no proof, sire,” said Saint-Vallier. “If the Constable de Bourbon has any such designs as your majesty attributes to him, he has carefully concealed them from me.”

“You abuse my patience by these idle prevarications,” cried the king, angrily. “By an immediate avowal of your guilt, and by a disclosure of all you know respecting this conspiracy, you might merit my forgiveness.”

“And think you, sire, that if I were leagued in such a plot, I would purchase safety by betraying my associates?” rejoined Saint-Vallier. “No, I would rather perish on the scaffold.”

“Such will be your fate,” said the king, sternly. “But torture shall extort the truth from you.”

“Oh! sire,” exclaimed Diane, again flinging herself at the king's feet, “do not have recourse to such terrible measures. Spare him the torture!--spare him!”

“Let him confess his guilt, then--let him reveal all he knows regarding the plot,” rejoined François.

“Torture will not force me to speak,” said Saint-Val-lier, resolutely. “I should be unworthy of the name I bear if I could betray iny friends. Cease to intercede for me, Diane,” he added to his daughter.

“Remove the prisoners,” said François to Warthy, “and let them be taken with a strong escort to Paris, and lodged in the Conciergerie, there to be kept till commissioners shall be appointed for their trial by the Parliament.”

“Sire,” said Diane, “I crave your majesty's permission to attend my unhappy father to Paris. My presence will be some consolation to him.”

“I cannot grant your request, madame,” replied the king, in an inflexible tone. “You must remain here with the Comtesse de Châteaubriand, Take leave of your father, and let him depart.”

Half distracted, Diane flung herself in her father's arms. While straining her to his breast, Saint-Vallier said, in a low voice:

“Stay not here. Depart instantly for Normandy. Promise me this, and I shall die content.”

“You shall not die, father,” she cried. “I will obtain your pardon. I will not cease to supplicate the king till he yields.”

“I forbid it,” rejoined Saint-Vallier, authoritatively. “Obey me, as you would know peace hereafter.”

Diane made no reply. Overcome by her emotion, she had swooned in his arms.

Female attendants were instantly summoned from the adjoining tent, which was appropriated to the Comtesse de Chateaubriand and her ladies, and Saint-Vallier having committed his daughter to the charge of these women, quitted the tent with the Bishop of Autun and Warthy.

The king's injunctions were promptly carried into effect. While the two prisoners were despatched with a guard strong enough to prevent, any attempt at rescue, to Paris, and lodged in the Conciergerie, there to await, their trial, officers were sent forth to all the principal towns in the Lyonnois, the Borbonnois, Auvergne, Bourgogne, and Dauphiné, to proclaim by sound of trumpet the Constable de Bourbon a rebel and a traitor, and to offer in the king's name a reward of ten thousand golden crowns of the sun for his capture. Orders were at the same time issued that all the southern frontiers of the kingdom should be strictly guarded, so as to prevent his flight.

By such means the alarm was spread far and wide with inconceivable rapidity, and it seemed scarcely possible that Bourbon could escape.

Meanwhile, the Grand-Master and the Marshal de Chabannes had marched, without opposition, to Chantelle. There was no necessity to summon the fortress to surrender. The gates were thrown open by Saint-Sa-phorin, who was left in command, on the approach of the assailants. But the Constable and his chief adherents were gone, and, as far as could be ascertained, had taken refuge amid the mountains of Auvergne. The two leaders, therefore, having compelled the garrison to lay down their arms, arrested Saint-Saphorin, took possession of the fortress in the king's name, and despatched several bodies of men in pursuit of the fugitives.

Warthy was also on Bourbon's track, having sworn to effect his capture.

XI. MARCELLINE D'HERMENT.

|Late at night, the messenger despatched by the Bishop of Autun to warn Bourbon of his danger, reached Chantelle, and before dawn the Constable had quitted the fortress, attended by his principal adherents. His escort comprised a hundred well-armed men, to twelve of whom were entrusted the leathern bags containing the treasure.

After traversing a long mountainous defile, remarkable for its grand and savage scenery, he reached Montaigut, where he dismounted, and entering the church, performed Lis devotions, and besought Heaven's aid in his difficulties.

Leaving Montaigut, he soon became involved in a range of volcanic mountains, and after a long ride through this extraordinary region, he came to the Château Lafayette--an old feudal stronghold, built on a vast lava current, which had issued in bygone ages from the crater of the Puy de Come.

Riding up to its gates, he was heartily welcomed by the châtelain, who hospitably entertained him and his train, cheering them with a liberal supply of the generous wine for which the district is renowned.

Lafayette would fain have persuaded Bourbon to tarry with him, but the Constable declined, alleging that he intended to pass the night at the Château d'Herment.

Again the fugitive's way led him through mountainous defiles, and night overtook him long before he reached his destination. Harbingers had been sent on to announce his approach, and as he and his followers climbed the steep and dangerous ascent to the fortress, a number of men, carrying blazing pine-wood torches, issued from the gates, and lighted them on their way. At their head was the young châtelain, who greeted Bourbon with profound respect, and placed his castle and all within it at his disposal.

The Seigneur d'Herment was a young man of some two or three-and-twenty--tall, powerfully built, and handsome. He was habited in a green hunting-dress and buff boots, and wore a broad-leaved grey felt hat, ornamented with a white feather, on his head. With him were two large shaggy hounds, which had pulled down many a lordly stag, torn in pieces many a wolf, had engaged more than one bear, and would not have hesitated to attack any other wild animal.

D'Herment dwelt in his lonely castle with his sister Marcelline, whose beauty and courage were the theme of admiration throughout that wild district. Marcelline was nearly five years younger than her brother, whom she strikingly resembled in feature, and even in character. Though her pursuits were masculine, and though her time was passed among horses and hounds, though she could manage a hawk better than her own falconer, though she could tire out the most energetic horseman, though she never missed the mark with arbalest or petronel, there was nothing in Marcelline's manner unbecoming the gentlest damsel. Her features, it is true, had a resolute expression, not often met with in a maiden of eighteen, her mouth and chin being proudly cut, and her fine nostrils often distended like those of a deer. Her complexion was embrowned by the sun, her eyes large, bright, and blue, and her luxuriant tresses of a lovely auburn. Her attire, though savouring little of court fashion, and boasting few ornaments, became her well, and displayed her tall and symmetrical figure to the greatest advantage. Her black velvet toque was adorned with the plume of an eagle which she herself had shot.

Such was the damsel who greeted Bourbon and his companions as they entered the great hall of the castle. Her remarkable beauty could not fail to strike the young nobles who were now presented to her by her brother, but she seemed insensible to the admiration she excited, and entirely occupied in attending to the Duke de Bourbon, whom she conducted to the upper table. She made no apology for the repast which was set before the Constable and his followers, and, indeed, it needed none, for though the viands were homely they were abundant, and the appetites of the guests, sharpened by their long ride, enabled them to do ample justice to the substantial dishes with which the board was loaded. Moreover, the wine was excellent, and plentifully supplied.

At the close of the repast Marcelline arose, and as the Constable led her forth he thanked her for her hospitality, and bade her adieu, stating that he should depart long before daylight.

In consideration of the fatigue they had undergone, and the extraordinarily early hour at which it had been arranged that they were to depart, most of the Con stable's attendants now retired to rest; but, before seeking his chamber, Bourbon had an hour's private conference with D'Herment, at which Pomperant and Tansannes were present.

Just as the castle clock struck two, torches flashed in the great court, and showed the enclosure filled with horsemen. Shortly afterwards the chief part of the Constable's adherents made their appearance, and mounted their steeds. Ere many more minutes, Bourbon, attended by the châtelain, descended into the court, muffled in a heavy riding-cloak, doubtless to protect him from the fresh morning air. After taking leave of D'Herment, and casting a hasty glance around to ascertain that the men to whom the bags of treasure had been confided were there, he rode out of the gateway, followed by his train.

On gaining the valley he struck spurs into his steed, and the whole troop proceeded at a quick pace in the direction of the Château de Carlat, whither they were bound. Thus they passed on through a wild district, the volcanic mountains looking singularly fantastic in the gloom. Bourbon rode on in front alone, and seemed buried in thought.

At last, when day began to dawn, and the cones and craters of the mountains became more distinct, the leader of the party checked his horse, and signed to the troop to halt. The order was instantly obeyed. But what was the surprise of the young seigneurs, and indeed of the whole cavalcade, when their chief facing them, and throwing aside his cloak, disclosed the features of Tansannes!

Exclamations of surprise and anger arose on all sides.

“What is the meaning of this? Where is the Lord Constable? Has he deserted us?” cried several voices.

“He is on his way to the Franche-Comté,” replied Tansannes. “Instead of retiring to rest, he quitted the Château d'Herment at midnight, disguised, and attended only by Pomperant. His aim is to gain Saint-Claude with as much expedition as possible, and we are to join him there.”

This announcement caused great discontent among the young seigneurs, and they gave loud utterance to their anger.

“Pardieu! the Constable has done ill to desert us,” cried Peloux, “We would all have shed our last drop of blood for him. He had better have died with his friends than be captured ingloriously.”

“The Constable will never be taken alive,” said Tansannes.

“But he should not have left us without a word,” said Saint-Bonnet. “It looks as if he could not trust us.”

“He felt you would refuse to leave him,” said Tansannes.

“Why, so we should,” rejoined Desguières. “I, for one, would never have left him.”

“It was the conviction that a large escort must necessarily increase his risk, that caused him to abandon you,” said Tansannes. “But he trusts you will rejoin him at Saint-Claude. He confides his treasure to your charge.”

“Nothing, then, is left us but to cry 'Sauve qui peut,' and disperse,” said Peloux. “Let each man make the best of his way to the frontier.”

“Agreed,” replied the others.

“Saint-Claude must be our rendezvous,” said Tansannes. “A week hence, if all be well, we will meet there. Vive Bourbon!”

“Vive Bourbon!” exclaimed the others, and the shout was echoed by the whole troop.

The young seigneurs then bade each other adieu, and rode off in different directions, each taking with him a bag of gold, and a guard of a dozen soldiers.

XII. THE CHATEAU DE LALLIÈRES.

|Notwithstanding what Tansannes had asserted, Bourbon had not quitted the Château d'Herment, but had remained in his chamber while his followers rode away. The only persons taken into his confidence besides the châtelain, were Pomperant and Tansannes, the former of whom remained to attend his lord and aid his escape, while the latter undertook to personate him. The Constable was loth to separate from his devoted followers, but D'Herment convinced him that if he retained so numerous a suite he would inevitably be tracked and captured. In this opinion Tansannes and Pomperant concurred, and at last Bourbon yielded to their arguments. It was also thought advisable, for greater security, that the Constable should disguise himself as a serving-man, and for this purpose a doublet and hose of russet serge were procured for him. A short mantle of knitted worsted, with a hood attached to it, enabled him partially to conceal his features.

All being arranged, after an early meal D'Herment rode forth from his castle, with the ostensible purpose of trying some newly-manned hawks, He was accompanied by his sister and Pomperant, and the trio were followed by Bourbon, disguised as before mentioned, and by a couple of falconers, each having a hawk upon his wrist.

After more than an hour's ride among the mountains, they came to a lake formed by the damming up of a river by a tremendous stream of lava which had flowed from the side of a lofty volcanic mountain.

The lake was of some extent, and its borders were in places fringed by trees, while the shallower parts were full of reeds, bulrushes, and aquatic plants. Marcelline now took a hawk from one of the falconers, and a heron shortly afterwards rising from the reeds, she quickly unhooded the hawk, and cast it off. On perceiving its danger, the heron flew swiftly upwards, followed with equal swiftness by the hawk, and to such a height did they soar, that they looked like specks, and eventually almost vanished from sight. When they reappeared, the hawk was uppermost, and soon stooped upon her prey, and ere another minute the heron fell dead within a few yards of Marcelline.

A bittern was next roused, but the party were prevented from continuing the sport by the appearance of a troop of horsemen coming from the direction of the chateau. No doubt could be entertained that this troop, which consisted of a dozen men and a captain, were in pursuit of the Constable. There was no time for deliberation, but Marcelline was equal to the emergency.

“Ride on with the prince,” she said to her brother. “Let the Seigneur Pomperant go with me. They will take him for the Constable. We can make our way across the mountains to the Château de Lallières. If you can baffle pursuit, you will find us there.”

To this bold proposition D'Herment at once agreed, and the courageous damsel, calling upon Pomperant to follow her, dashed up the rugged side of the mountain. At the same moment, D'Herment, followed by Bourbon and the falconers, galloped off along a road which skirted the banks of the lake.

The movements of the parties were of course descried by Captain Florae, the leader of the troop. As had been foreseen by Marcelline, he mistook Pomperaût for Bourbon, and started in pursuit with a couple of men, despatching the rest of the troop after the other fugitives, While mounting the hill, Marcelline and her companion remained in sight of their pursuers, but soon after gaining the summit they were lost to view.

On reaching the same point, Florae found that they were descending a precipitous road into the valley on the opposite side of the mountain, and, notwithstanding the danger of the course, he unhesitatingly followed with his men, and reached the valley in safety.

The chase continued for more than a league along a narrow defile, when all at once Marcelline and her companion stopped, and, on seeing this, Florae pressed on more vigorously than ever.

The stoppage of the fugitives had been caused by the appearance of a body of armed men riding towards them from the farther end of the defile. Uncertain whether these were friends or foes, but fearing they might prove the latter, Pomperant hesitated to proceed, halting for a brief space to consider what course lie should pursue.

Marcelline proposed to take refuge in the fastnesses of the mountains, and undertook to guide him to a secure retreat, and, without waiting for his reply, forced her horse up a steep acclivity. Pomperant followed, but, ere he had climbed half the ascent, Florae and his men came up, and two shots were fired, one of which struck Pomperant's horse, and the wounded animal, after a plunge and a struggle, rolled down the precipice, dragging his rider with him.

Pomperant, though much bruised, tried to disengage himself, but, ere he could do so, Florae had dismounted, and holding him down, presented a poniard at his throat.

“I arrest your highness in the king's name,” cried Florae. “You are my prisoner.”

“Why do you address me by that title?” demanded Pomperant. “For whom do you take me?”

“For Charles de Bourbon, Constable of France, a rebel and a traitor to the king,” rejoined Florae. “Fortune has, indeed, favoured me. I shall obtain the ten thousand gold crowns offered by his majesty for your highness's capture.”

“You will obtain no reward for my capture,” said Pomperant. “I am not Bourbon.”

“This denial will not avail with me, prince,” rejoined Florae. “I know you too well. Yield yourself my prisoner, or----”

“Never!” exclaimed Pomperant, seizing his antagonist's wrist, and preventing him from using the poniard.

A desperate struggle then ensued between them. Florae was a very powerful man, and, being uppermost, had a great advantage over Pomperant, who, moreover, could not extricate himself from his horse.

The issue of the conflict could not therefore be doubted especially as the troopers were preparing to aid their leader, when at this juncture a sharp report was heard from above. A well-directed bullet pierced Florae's brain, and he sank an inert mass upon Pomperant's breast.

Looking up, the troopers perceived Marcelline on the edge of a rock, with a smoking petronel in her hand.

The fate of their leader caused a momentary irresolution in the men, and this allowed Pomperant time to free himself from his dead antagonist and spring to his feet. In another moment he had possessed himself of Florae's steed, and, charging the troopers, hewed down one of them. Panic-stricken, the other galloped off, but he did not escape. Pomperant rode after him, and being better mounted, speedily came up with him, and by a tremendous blow cleft him almost to the girdle.

The poor wretch had ridden in the direction of the troop, whom we have described as advancing along the ravine, and who were now not far from the scene of action, hoping they might succour him--but he shouted to them in vain. Had they been so minded, they could not have lent him aid, but they might have avenged him, for the victor did not attempt to fly, but tranquilly awaited their coming up. Pomperant anticipated no molestation, for he had recognised in the leader of the troop a friend--the Seigneur de Lallières.

Meanwhile, Marcelline had descended from the heights and riding up, received Pomperant's congratulations on the courage she had displayed. While thanking her for the important service she had rendered him, he added, with a look that bespoke the depth of his gratitude, “You have saved my life. I shall never forget the debt I owe you.”

A greeting then took place between Pomperant and Lallières, and after explanations had been given by the former, Lallières ordered half a dozen of his retainers to convey the bodies of Florae and the two troopers to a monastery in the mountains, and there cause them to be interred, taking care to have masses said for their souls.

The château belonging to Lallières proved to be about three leagues off and on arriving at it, he consigned Marcelline to the care of his wife, and then taking Pomperant to his own private chamber, proceeded to anoint his bruises with a sovereign balsam, which he affirmed would speedily heal them, and which afforded the sufferer almost immediate relief. Lallières then left his guest, but presently returned with his intendant, an old and trusty servant, who brought with him a basket containing cold viands and wine. Having satisfied his hunger, Pomperant threw himself on a couch, and, being much fatigued, slept soundly for several hours, when he was awakened by the opening of the chamber-door, and by the light of a silver lamp burning on the table, beheld his host, who was accompanied by the Constable and D'Herment. Bourbon informed his follower that he and D'Herment had only just reached the château, having been compelled to take a circuitous road among the mountains, in order to elude their pursuers; and he added, that it would be necessary to depart before daybreak, as the château was certain to be visited in the morning by some of the numerous bands of armed men scouring the country.

“I am ready to set out now, for the few hours' sound sleep I have enjoyed have completely restored me,” said Pomperant. “But your highness has been in the saddle since early morning, and must need rest.”

“I need meat and drink more than rest,” replied Bourbon. “D'Herment and I have fasted more rigorously than hermits through out the day.”

“In an hour I shall be ready,” added D'Herment. “I cannot engage to satisfy my appetite in less than that time. I never felt the pangs of hunger so keenly as now.”

“You shall have wherewithal to allay them, I promise you,” observed Lallières. “Come with me to the banqueting-hall.”

“Nay, there is plenty here,” said Bourbon, glancing at the viands left on the table by Pomperant. “Fall to without ceremony, I pray you,” he added to D'Herment. “Regard me only as your comrade, not as your prince.” They then sat down and attacked the provisions with great vigour. Seeing the havoc they were making, Lallières sought a fresh supply of meat and wine, and it was well he did so, for the appetites of his guests appeared insatiable. At length, however, they declared themselves satisfied, and arose from the table.

“I think your highness need not depart till morning,” said Lallières; “but if you are resolved to go, I will order horses for you.”

“Do so, my good friend,” replied Bourbon. “If I remain, my retreat may be cut off.”

Lallières then quitted the chamber to give the necessary orders, and Bourbon was discussing his route with the others, when their host reappeared, his looks proclaiming alarm.

“What has happened?” demanded the Constable.

“The Seigneur Perot de Warthy is at the castle gate and demands admittance in the king's name,” replied Lallières. “He has a troop of archers with him.”

“Warthy here!” exclaimed Bourbon, turning pale. “Then there is good reason for apprehension.”

“How will your highness have me act?” said Lallières. “You have only to command. I am ready to lay down my life for you. Shall I refuse him admittance?”

“No,” replied Bourbon, after a moment's reflection. “Escape would then be impossible. I know the man. He will post himself before the castle, and allow no one to pass forth from the gates. Admit him. You can find some place of concealment for us.”

“Easily,” replied Lallières. And touching a spring in the oak wainscoting a secret panel flew open, disclosing a narrow passage constructed within the wall. “That passage will lead you to a chamber known only to myself and my intendant, where you will be perfectly safe. I will come to you anon.”

“Enough,” replied Bourbon. And, taking up the lamp, he passed through the secret door with the others.

Lallières then summoned the intendant, and bidding him remove all evidences of the repast, descended to the outer court, and ordered the gates to be thrown open.

Warthy rode into the court-yard at the head of his troop, and dismounting, said, in a stern authoritative voice to the châtelain, “I require the keys of the castle to be delivered to me.”

“By what right do you make the demand?” rejoined Lallières.

“As the king's representative,” replied Warthy.

The keys were then brought him by the warder, and having seen the gate locked, and placed two of his own men on guard beside it, he thrust the bunch of keys in his girdle, and returned to Lallières, by whom he was conducted to a large hall on the ground floor. The attendants kept at a respectful distance, so that what passed between them was unheard.

“Seigneur de Lallières,” said Warthy, “I have reason to believe that the arch-traitor, Charles de Bourbon, has sought shelter beneath your roof. Those who screen him share his guilt. Deliver him up, and I will save you from all ill consequences. Attempt to shield him from justice, and you will incur the severest displeasure of the king.”

“Search the castle, and if you find the prince, take him,” replied Lallières, sternly.

“Then you do not deny that he is here?” said Warthy.

“I neither deny it, nor admit it,” rejoined Lallières. “Search the castle, I say. I shall not hinder you. I have no other answer to make.”

“Your answer is insolent, seigneur, and shall be reported to the king,” said Warthy.

“Be it so,” rejoined Lallières.

Warthy called the intendant, whom he recognised by his wand, and ordered him to conduet him over the castle. The old man did not dare to refuse compliance. But though the châtelain's private room was visited in the course of the perquisition, no discovery was made.

“Are you satisfied, sir?” inquired Lallières, as Warthy returned to the hall, after his unsuccessful search.

“I am satisfied that Bourbon is hidden somewhere in the château,” replied Warthy, “but he shall not escape me. To-morrow I will institute a more rigorous search. I understand you have some guests in the chateau. Where are they?”

“The only person now here is the Demoiselle Marcelline d'Herment,” replied Lallières. “The others are gone.”

“Who are gone?” demanded Warthy.

“Those you seek. They departed on foot.”

“At what time?” said Warthy.

“Scarce half an hour before your arrival,” returned Lallières. “I counselled them not to stay, and I am thankful they took my advice.”

“Was Bourbon one of them?” demanded Warthy.

Lallières remained silent, and Warthy repeated the question yet more authoritatively.

“I refuse to answer,” replied the châtelain. “I have said that the persons who came hither are gone. That is all I choose to tell you. Follow them, if you think proper, or remain here. You do not expect me to put you on their track.”

“You are bound to aid in capturing rebels and traitors,” rejoined Warthy. “But I will not talk longer with you now. To-morrow I shall have more to say.”

“To-morrow I will speak freely,” returned Lallières, “for then my friends will be out of your reach. Meantime, it shall not be said that I neglected the rites of hospitality. Will you sup before you retire to rest?--or shall my intendant conduct you at once to a sleeping-chamber?”

“I do not mean to retire to rest,” replied Warthy. “I shall visit the guard in person throughout the night, to assure myself that strict watch is kept. Let supper be served here.”

Lallières then withdrew. Left alone, Warthy took a few turns in the great hall, and then flung himself into a chair. While doing so, he found that the keys incommoded him, so, removing them from his girdle, he laid them upon the table.

Presently afterwards a chamberlain appeared, followed by four serving-men, charged with the materials of a plentiful repast. While serving the dishes to Warthy, who ate all that was offered him, and emptied several goblets of wine, the chamberlain remarked the keys lying on the table, and it instantly occurred to him that he might be able to secure them.

While replenishing Warthy's goblet he threw a napkin over the keys, and immediately afterwards took it up again so cautiously that no sound was audible, and then quitted the hall, ostensibly for the purpose of fetching another flask of wine.

Warthy was too much engaged with his repast to remark what had taken place, and he was still sedulously occupied when the chamberlain returned, bringing with him another flask of wine, and also a second bunch of keys--somewhat resembling those he had carried off--and while moving about he let them drop on the floor.

“Ha! give me those keys!” cried Warthy, angrily.

And taking them from the chamberlain, who apologised for the inadvertence, he thrust them into his girdle.

Just then Lallières entered the hall, accompanied by Marcelline.

“This lady has desired me to bring her to you, sir,” said the châtelain. “She has a favour to ask of you.”

“Indeed!” exclaimed Warthy, rising and bowing. “I trust it may be in my power to grant it.”

“It is merely that I may be permitted to quit the castle,” said Marcelline.

“Alone, fair lady, at this hour?” rejoined Warthy. “I have too much consideration for you to grant the request.”

“Were I to depart alone, I should have no fear,” she replied, “but I shall have three attendants with me.”

“This is a stratagem to get Bourbon out of the castle,” thought Warthy. “But I will defeat it and secure my prey at the same time. When do you desire to depart?' he added to Marcelline.

“An hour hence,” she replied.

“Well, you have my permission. You have three attendants, you say?”

“Yes, three,” she answered. “You can see them before they quit the castle.”

“Of course I shall see them,” he returned. “They cannot depart till I am satisfied. Go fetch the warder,” he added to an attendant.

Presently the personage in question entered the hall, and Warthy told him he had granted permission to the Demoiselle d'Herment to quit the château with three attendants.

“To-night?” asked the warder.

“Ay, to-night, at any hour she pleases,” said Warthy.

The warder bowed, and retired.

“I am much beholden to you, messire,” said Marcelline.

“Nay, fair lady, I am happy to oblige you,” he returned, gallantly.

Marcelline then withdrew, accompanied by Lallières, both looking well pleased.

“I have him now,” thought Warthy, as he was left alone. “It is needless to give any further instructions to the warder. He cannot unlock the gate without coming to me,” he added, satisfying himself that the keys were safe.

He then resumed his seat and finished his repast, and when the table had been cleared by the serving-men, he reclined back in his chair, and presently fell into a doze.