The Constable De Bourbon

“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.

While thus slumbering, he fancied he heard the trampling of horses in the court, but he did not disturb himself on that account, as he felt certain no one could get out of the castle without his aid. After he had slumbered on for nearly two hours, he was aroused by the entrance of the warder.

“I have brought the keys, monseigneur,” said the man.

“You have come for them, you mean, sirrah,” rejoined Warthy, ascertaining that the bunch of keys was hanging from his girdle.

“I mean what I say, monseigneur,” returned the warder, laying down the keys before him.

“What, then, are these?” cried Warthy, holding up the other bunch.

“Those are not the keys of the castle gate,” returned the other.

“Ha! I have been duped!” cried Warthy, the truth beginning to flash upon him. “Answer me, villain,” he roared. “You have not allowed the Demoiselle d’Herment and her attendants to depart?”

“Yes, I have. I concluded they had your lordship’s full permission,” replied the warder, trembling. “They brought the keys with them, and told me to unlock the gate. I am sorry if I have done wrong, but I fully believed they had your sanction, and so did the guard, or we should have stopped them.”

“Fool! idiot!” roared Warthy. “You have allowed the Constable de Bourbon to escape. How long have they been gone?”

“Upwards of an hour,” replied the warder.

“Time enough to allow him to get fairly off,” cried Warthy. “But I must start at once in pursuit. Order my horse instantly – instantly, d’ye hear, sirrah? – and bid twenty archers get ready to attend me. The rest will remain here.”

The warder rushed forth to obey the order, and in less than five minutes Warthy had quitted the castle with twenty men.

His last words to the guard were: “Hold this eastle for the king, till his majesty’s pleasure shall be known, and keep the Seigneur de Lallières a close prisoner.”

XIII. THE MOUNTAIN HOSTELRY

Having got clear of the eastle by the stratagem just described, the fugitives, apprehensive of immediate pursuit, dashed down the mountain, and, on reaching the valley, speeded along it as fast as their horses could carry them. Nor did they slacken their pace for more than an hour. They then paused to listen, but hearing nothing behind them, they went on somewhat more leisurely. They were all well mounted, for Lallières had given them the best horses in his stables.

Hitherto no plans had been fixed. Bourbon would fain have persuaded D’Herment and his courageous sister to leave him, but they refused, D’Herment insisting upon acting as the Constable’s guide throughout the night, lest he might miss his way among the mountains, and fall into the hands of his enemies.

After some consideration it was decided that they should proceed to the Chateau de Montbrison, which could be reached by daylight, and where Bourbon might halt, if circumstances permitted, for a brief space, and then continue his course towards the south. With this design, the party journeyed throughout the night, and, after crossing a chain of mountains just as day began to dawn, came in sight of the ancient towers of Montbrison.

Bourbon’s purpose, however, of sheltering himself in the castle, was at once abandoned as he perceived a large troop of armed men, numbering three or four hundred, riding towards Montbrison through the valley. Evidently, the leader of this troop was about to take possession of the fortress, and it was fortunate for the Constable that he was outside its walls.

Under these circumstances, it would have been dangerous for D’Herment and his sister to proceed thither, so the party still kept together, but as their horses were dead beaten, it was absolutely necessary to give the wearied animals rest. The fugitives were therefore compelled to enter a small village among the mountains, where a hostelry promised them all they required.

The little inn was kept by an old couple and their son, Hugues. The latter took charge of the horses, while the old man and his wife attended to their guests, and quickly set before them the best their house afforded. Bourbon, having to support the character of a servant, went with Hugues to the stable, and, on entering it, was glad to perceive several strong horses in the stalls.

“My master wants to reach Vienne without delay, friend,” he said to Hugues, “and I am sure he would be glad to hire horses from you to proceed thither.”

“Your master shall have the horses, sir,” replied Hugues, showing by the profound respect of his manner that he had recognised the person who addressed him. “If you desire it,” he added, significantly, “I will go with you myself to Vienne.”

“I perceive you know me, friend,” rejoined Bourbon, “so I will not attempt further concealment with you. You are aware of the peril in which I am placed?”

“I am aware that ten thousand golden crowns of the sun are offered for your highness’s capture,” replied Hugues; “but were the reward ten times as great, it would not tempt me to betray you. I am sorry to see your highness here. I hoped you were already out of France.”

And he then proceeded to explain to the Constable that the whole country was alarmed by the royal proclamations, and that a large body of men had just passed through the valley from Lyons to take possession of Montbrison.

“I saw them,” replied Bourbon. “But do you think there is danger in proceeding to Vienne? I want to get across the Rhone.”

“I know not how to advise your highness,” said Hugues. “The shortest road out of France is the safest you can pursue. By the time you have breakfasted, the horses shall be ready, and you can then go whithersoever you list.”

Bourbon then returned to the hostel, and, sitting down at a table apart from the others, a modest repast was set before him by the old dame. Impatient to be gone, as soon as he had despatched his breakfast the Constable went forth again, and found that the horses were in readiness. By this time the old host had learned who was his guest, and professed as much devotion for him as his son had done.

“I only wish I could attend your highness in person,” said the old man. “But take my son with you – take my horses – and may Heaven guard you on your way!”

“I shall not forget your zeal, my good friend,” replied Bourbon, much moved; “and I trust I shall one day be able to requite you.”

During breakfast, it had been arranged that the party should now separate. D’Herment and his sister proposed to return to their château, while the Constable and Pom-perant resolved to make the best of their way to Vienne.

Hasty adieux were exchanged at the door of the little hostelry.

“Farewell, prince!” said Marcelline to Bourbon. “May you re-enter France at the head of an army! It will give me new life when I hear you have crossed the frontier.”

“Have no fear for me,” rejoined Bourbon. “Rest assured that I shall baffle my enemies. But I trust you may not suffer for your zeal in my behalf.”

“If the king should imprison me and my brother, your highness must come and deliver us,” she replied.

“That I engage to do,” replied Bourbon.

The parting between Pomperant and Marcelline was brief, but it was evident that the former felt it deeply. The young seigneur had already become passionately enamoured of the fair damsel who had saved his life.

“Farewell, Marcelline,” he said. “We shall meet again.”

“I trust so,” she replied.

Bourbon did not attempt to mount till Pomperant was in the saddle, but as soon as his supposed master had ridden off, he followed with Hugues.

Often and often did Pomperant turn to gaze at Marcelline, till her figure was lost in the distance.

XIV. THE MILL AT SAINT-SIMPHORIEN

Compelled to avoid the public roads, the fugitives, on reaching the valley, traversed an extensive marshy plain, which would have been impassable without a guide, forded the Loire about half a league above Montrond, and after a toilsome journey through a wild and mountainous district, drew near Saint-Simphorien about an hour before midnight. As they could not put up at an auberge, Hugues proposed that they should seek a lodging at a mill which he pointed out on an eminence a short distance from the road.

“I think Maître Benoit, the miller, will take us in,” he said. “He is kind-hearted and hospitable, and his daughter Madelon is the prettiest girl in Saint-Simphorien, and as good as she is pretty.”

“You know her?” said Bourbon.

“I persuade myself I do,” replied Hugues, “I have given my heart to her keeping, and hope one day to make her my wife – that is, if we can obtain Benoit’s consent to the marriage.”

“In that case we will go to the mill,” said Bourbon. “You can answer for the miller’s daughter, if not for the miller and his wife.”

“I can answer for all three,” replied Hugues. “I will stake my life that your highness shall be safe at the mill – provided we can only get in; and what is more, we shall have a good stable for the horses.”

They then rode towards the mill. Close beside it was Benoit’s dwelling – a substantial-looking tenement, which showed he must have thriven in his trade. A little to the rear of the house were a large barn and stable.

As the party approached the miller’s abode, the alarm was given by the barking of a couple of fierce dogs in the stable-yard, and just as Hugues, who had dismounted for the purpose, was about to knock against the door with his whip, a chamber window was opened, and Benoit, thrusting forth his head, which was adorned with a tall bonnet de nuit, called out in a gruff voice:

“Hola! my masters, what do you mean by disturbing honest folk at this time of night? Go about your business.”

“Our business is to procure a lodging beneath your roof, père Benoit,” rejoined Hugues. “Don’t you know me, my good friend?”

“What! is it Hugues?” cried the miller. “What brings you here, boy, and who have you got with you?”

At this juncture, Pomperant thought proper to interpose, declaring he was a captain of the royal guard of archers, on the way to Vienne, to intercept the flight of the Constable de Bourbon.

The explanation did not appear very satisfactory to honest Benoit, for he rejoined in a sullen tone:

“Pardieu! I shan’t disturb myself for you, captain. You must go to the auberge. Good night!”

And he was about to shut the casement, when Hugues called out to him:

“Hold! père Benoit. You are mistaken. We are all friends of the Duke de Bourbon.”

“Since you give me that assurance, Hugues, I am content,” said the miller. “But no enemy of Bourbon shall set foot in my dwelling, if I can prevent it.”

“By Saint Louis! I am glad to hear you say so, good Benoit,” cried the Constable. “Admit us without fear. Bourbon has no better friend than myself.”

“That voice!” exclaimed Benoit. “Oh, if it should turn out to be the Constable in person!”

“You have not made a bad guess, père Benoit,” rejoined Hugues. “Come down as quickly as you can, and, meantime, let me have the key of the stable.”

“Here it is,” replied the miller, throwing him the key from the window. “But wait till Madelon can go with you, for the dogs are loose.”

“Oh, I’ll wait. I don’t want to be torn in pieces,” said Hugues, laughing, as he picked up the key.

Benoit then disappeared, and his voice was subsequently heard from within calling to his wife and daughter to get up immediately. Madelon was already astir, having recognised her lover’s voice, and ere many minutes opened the door, and as she held a light in her hand, it could be seen that Hugues had not overrated her beauty. Nothing daunted by the presence in which he stood, her lover clasped her in his arms, and snatched a few hasty kisses. Disengaging herself as quickly as she could from his embrace, the blushing damsel turned to the others, both of whom had dismounted and fastened their horses to a rail, and begging them to enter, ushered them into a large plainly-furnished but comfortable-looking room. At the same moment, the miller and his wife, each carrying a light, came down an oak staircase which communicated with the rooms above.

Feeling that disguise was unnecessary, and that he could safely trust the worthy miller, Bourbon had re moved his hood, and no sooner did Benoit look upon him than he exclaimed:

“Ay, there stands the Duke de Bourbon. I knew his voice the moment I heard it. Look, wife, ‘tis he! – ‘tis his highness!”

So saying, he threw himself at the Constable’s feet, and his dame followed his example. So demonstrative were they in their devotion, that Bourbon could scarcely persuade them to rise. When they regained their feet, Madelon came forward to pay him like homage.

“No, no, that must not be, my pretty damsel,” said Bourbon, checking her. And he added, with a smile, “Go with Hugues to the stable. He needs your protection from the dogs.”

“Ay, take a lantern and go with him, Madelon,” said her father. “Show him where to find food for the horses.”

As the young couple departed, the miller’s wife, Margot, a comely, middle-aged woman, threw a heap of wood on the hearth, and in a few minutes a blazing fire cast a cheerful glow around. While she was thus employed, an active-looking female servant, about Madelon’s age, and not without some pretension to good looks, tripped down the staircase, and hastened to spread a snow-white cloth upon the table, and make other preparations for supper. Babet, for so she was named, took Bourbon for a serving-man, and would have assigned him a place at the lower end of the table, but her mistress soon set this matter right, and ere long the two fugitives were seated opposite each other, discussing a very substantial repast.

By this time Madelon and Hugues had returned from the stables, and the young man took his seat at a respectful distance from his superiors. Before he had finished his supper, Babet, who had gone up-stairs with her mistress, came down again, and made the satisfactory announcement that chambers were ready for the guests, whereupon Bourbon and Pomperant immediately arose, and prepared to retire, intimating their intention of departing an hour before dawn.

The females having likewise retired, Benoit and Hugues drew near the fire, and fell fast asleep, but they were speedily roused from their slumbers by the fierce barking of the dogs. Both started to their feet in great alarm, as the trampling of horses, mingled with the clank of arms, was heard outside, and left no doubt that a troop of cavalry was at hand.

Without a moment’s delay, Benoit extinguished the lamp which unluckily had been left burning on the table, and rushed up the staircase to warn the fugitives.

In another minute a loud knocking was heard at the door, and an authoritative voice demanded immediate admittance. Hugues, however, made no reply, but reconnoitring the party through the window, perceived that it consisted of some twenty mounted men-at-arms, whose leader was knocking against the door with the handle of his sword.