CHAPTER XLVIII.
Many are the perils of greatness, but among them all, there are few more disastrous than that of being subject continually to influences the most corrupt, which poison the stream of human action almost at the fountain-head. False representations, sneers, innuendoes, mis-statements, are ever fluttering about the heads of princes, guard themselves how they will against them; and I have seen the base, the treacherous, the coward, and the fool raised to office, honor, and emolument; the good, the wise, the just, and the true rejected, neglected, and despised by men, not feeble-minded, not corrupt themselves, but strong in intellect, clear of sight, and with the highest and the noblest purposes. Princes and powerful men can but, as others do, judge and decide from what they see and hear, and the very atmosphere around them is misty with falsehood, their very closet is an echo which repeats little else but lies.
There was a great hall in the château of Felard, and in it, about nine o'clock, were assembled many of the prime nobility of France. Gay habits were there, and handsome forms; and, being so numerous, the party of course comprised some who were good and wise. It consisted principally of men, indeed; but there were ladies likewise present--the queen herself, Agnes Sorel, several high dames of Berri, and ladies attending upon the court. The young king, graceful and handsome, stood at the upper end of the hall, by the side of his wife; and various guests from time to time advanced, spoke a few words to him, and passed on. All seemed gay and smiling. The news had spread around that the principal conditions of a treaty of accommodation with the late rebels had been signed, and joy and satisfaction at a result so greatly to be desired, yet which had been so little expected, spread a cheerfulness like sunshine over all. Little did he who had first suggested the steps which had led to such a conclusion, and had principally contributed to their adoption, dream at that moment of the evil that awaited himself.
Jean Charost, after several persons of higher station than himself had passed the king's presence, advanced with a grave air from the end of the circle near which he stood. His countenance was calm and well assured, though thoughtful, and his eyes were raised direct to the monarch. He could see a dark cloud suddenly come upon Charles's face, and La Trimouille, who was at some little distance from the king, immediately drew nearer to him. The king bowed his head somewhat ungraciously in answer to the young nobleman's salutation, and then, seeing him pause without passing on, said, harshly, "What is it, Monsieur de Brecy? Speak, if you have any thing to say."
De Brecy instantly divined that the king had been prepossessed; but that ancient spirit in him, which had led him, when a mere boy with the Duke of Orleans, to speak his mind plainly, had not been beaten out of him, even by all the hard blows of the world, and he replied, with one glance at his mother and Agnes, who stood at a little distance from the queen, but whom he could have well wished absent, "I have something to say, sire, which I would not venture to say at present, had you not yourself appointed me this as my hour of audience."
The king slowly nodded his head, as if directing him to proceed; and Jean Charost continued, "To-night, by your commands, I took part in a conference at Pressavoix, and gladly found that your majesty was disposed to be most gracious to a number of your vassals and subjects who had ventured to take arms upon very shallow pretexts against your authority. Although no motive was necessary to explain your clemency, the motive which Monsieur La Trimouille did express, was to reunite all Frenchmen in the service of the country. One solitary exception was made in this act of grace and goodness, and that exception was against a nobleman who, whatever may have been his faults lately, has, in times past, served the crown with zeal, skill, and courage."
The frown was darkening more and more heavily on Charles's brow every moment; but he did not speak, and Jean Charost went on boldly, "I have ventured to believe, sire, that you might be led to mitigate the severity of your just anger against the constable, and to consider former services as well as present faults, to remember how useful he has been, and may be still to France, and might be even induced to extend to him the same grace and favor which you hold out to his comrades in offense."
"Did you hear my will expressed by Monsieur La Trimouille?" demanded the king, sternly, and in a loud tone.
"I heard what he was pleased to say was your will, sire," replied De Brecy; "but I presumed to differ with Monsieur La Trimouille, and to believe that by proper representations to your majesty, which I imagined had not been made, you might be brought to reconsider your decision, and be gracious in all, as well as in part."
"And you expressed that difference at the council-table?" said Charles.
"I did, sire," replied De Brecy, "judging it necessary to the safety of France to do so."
"For which, sir," said the king aloud, and using the imperious plural representing the many powers united in a king; "for which, sir, we banish you from our court and presence, and make you share the punishment of the fault you have defended. You did your best to frustrate our purposes intrusted to the execution of our minister. You nearly rendered abortive his efforts to bring about a pacification, necessary to the welfare of the country; and it is probable that, had you remained on the spot, that pacification would not have been accomplished. We would have you know, and all know, that we will be obeyed. We have punished his rebellion in the Count of Richmond more leniently, perhaps, than his offense required, taking into full consideration his former services, but weighing well the fact that he was the head and leader, the chief and instigator of the conspiracy, in which the rest were but his deluded followers. Unwarned by his example, you thought fit to oppose our will at our very council-table, and we therefore inflict on you the same punishment as on him. The only grace we can grant you is to leave you the choice of your retreat, within ten miles of which, wherever it may be, we require you to limit your movements. Say whither you will go."
The first part of the king's speech had surprised and confounded De Brecy; but he gradually recovered himself as the monarch went on. He had long seen that Trimouille had sought to establish an almost despotic authority over the court of France, and he easily divined that Charles was not speaking his own sentiments, but those of his minister. This was some consolation, and he had completely recovered himself before the king ended. It was more by chance, however, than any thing else that, thus suddenly called upon, he fixed on a place of retreat. "By your majesty's permission," he replied, "I will retire to Briare. I have, however, some weighty business to conclude, having been too much engaged in your majesty's service to visit De Brecy for several years. May I have permission to remain yet a few days in this part of the country?"
"We give you three days," said the king, coldly inclining his head.
"It will need every exertion to accomplish what I have to do in the time," answered Jean Charost, with much mortification in his tone. "I will, therefore, beg leave to retire to De Brecy this very night. Come, my dear mother--come, Agnes," he continued, taking a step back.
"Hold!" cried the king. "Madame De Brecy, of course we do not oppose your departure with your son; but as for this young lady, we have had reason to believe very lately, that the right to her guardianship exists in us, rather than in Monsieur De Brecy. She must remain at our court, and under the protection of the queen, till such time, at least, as the matter is inquired into."
A red, angry glow spread over De Brecy's face; and Agnes herself was starting forward, as if to cling to him in that moment of anguish and indignation; but Agnes Sorel laid her hand upon her arm and held her back, whispering eagerly, "Do not oppose the king now. If you refrain, all may yet be well. Resist you can not, and opposition will be destruction."
"He has brought her up from her infancy, my lord the king," said Madame De Brecy, in an imploring tone. "I know of no one who could have so good a right to her guardianship as himself."
"Dare he venture to say that he has any right to her guardianship at all?" asked the king; "that that guardianship is his by blood, or that he has received it from one competent to give it?"
"Perhaps not, sire," replied De Brecy, boldly. "But I know of no one who has a better right than myself."
His eyes were flashing, his face heated, his whole frame trembling with emotion; and, with his free and possibly rash habit of expressing his thoughts, it is impossible to tell what he might have said; but Dunois and Juvenel de Royans took him by the arms, and forcibly drew him away from the king's presence toward a door at the end of the line of ladies and gentlemen, on the king's right hand.
As this painful and exciting scene had proceeded, the open space before the monarch had been gradually crowded, the ring around had become narrower and narrower, and De Brecy was soon lost to the monarch's eyes in the number of persons about him. Dunois paused for a moment there, urging something to which Jean Charost gave no heed; but nearly at the same instant a small hand was laid upon his arm, and the voice of Agnes Sorel said, in a low, earnest tone, "Leave her to me, De Brecy; leave her to me. I know all you fear; but, by my Christian faith, I will protect her, and guard her from all evil. Here, here--give your mother your arm; and, for Heaven's sake, for your own sake, for her sake, do not irritate the king."
De Brecy heard no more; but, with the heaviest heart that had ever rested in his bosom, suffered Dunois to lead him from the hall.
Juvenel de Royans followed, and, when they leached the vestibule beyond, he wrung De Brecy's hand hard, saying, "This is my fault--all my foolish chattering. But, by the Lord, I will set it right before I have done, or I will cut my cousin Trimouille's heart out of his body;" and with those words he turned sharply and re-entered the hall.