CHAPTER XXXVII.
Albert Maurice sat alone, after an evening of such fearful excitement, as few have ever passed upon this earth--after having seen his own life, and power, and hopes, in momentary danger--after having controlled and concealed his own passions, and bridled, and governed, and guided those of others--after having overthrown his enemies, slain his betrayer, secured his authority, and taken all but one small easy step to the very summit of his ambition. Oh, what a host of mingled sensations crowded rapidly on his heart! and how dizzily his brain whirled for the first few brief moments, while remembrance rapidly brought before him all the multiplied events of the last two hours; and out of the smoke of memory rose the giant consciousness that he was successful--triumphantly successful!
For an instant his lip curled with a proud and satisfied smile; and everything was forgotten, but that bright bubble--success. But, as he sat, a sort of lassitude came over him; his eye fell casually on the spot where the druggist Ganay had lain, convulsed in the agonies of death; and, by a caprice of the imagination, the same face which had then appeared streaked with ghastly blood, and contorted with the pangs of dissolution, was presented to his memory, as he had seen it in former days, speaking the words of hope to his own ear, and cheering him on the path of enterprise and ambition.
Touched by the magic wand of association, the splendid objects which he had just been contemplating began to change their form and lose their brightness. A dull weight of thought seemed to fall upon him, and his utmost efforts would not throw it off. It seemed as if some fiend, in bitter mockery, resolved to conjure up the faces of the dead, and to torture his heart with painful recollections, even in the hour of triumph. To the form of the druggist, next succeeded, before the eye of fancy, that of the Duke of Gueldres, dyeing the green sward with his blood; and then, the shifting picture of the mind presented the same prince as when first, with buoyant joy, he came to thank him for his liberation. Next appeared Imbercourt and Hugonet, bending to the stroke of the executioner: and then, he beheld them as they had appeared at the council, when he had been examined on the accusation of the Prevot; while the calm, grave, noble countenance of Imbercourt was seen pleading eagerly in exculpation of him, who had since worked out the death of his defender.
"So many, in so short a time!" thought Albert Maurice. "Yet have they died, each for his own misdeeds; and I have sacrificed them--ay, and with pain--for the good of my country alone!"
He almost started at the vehemence with which conscience gave the lie to so base a delusion. "For the good of my country alone!" he thought again. "Nay--nay--nay--for my own ambition. What--what act have I done yet, for the good of my country alone? None, alas! none! and even now, perhaps--even now, when ambition has swallowed up all--when I have reached the very pinnacle of success--perhaps the only one I have suffered to escape--perhaps yon Duke of Cleves is even now plotting to deprive me of the only reward that can wipe away every evil memory, repay every effort, tranquillize every pain, and render success a blessing indeed. But he shall plot in vain; and if he dare to plot, by the Lord that lives, he shall die!"
"Ho! without there!" he continued, aloud. "Bring me a hat and cloak! Oh, good Matthew Gournay--I had forgot," he added, as he saw who it was that answered his summons--"this very night your noble lord shall be set free. But I must see him myself; I have tidings for him which will glad his heart. You, too, shall not be forgotten; and though I know, gold can never pay such services as yours, yet there are other means within my power. This very night we will set free your lord. In all the turbulence of the past evening, I had forgot what I should have remembered. No, no, boy"--he added, to the page who brought him a high-plumed bonnet and richly decorated cloak--"these vestments I have on are all too fine already. I must conceal my rank--my station in the city, I should say. Get me some servant's cloak and hat. Be quick! 'Tis nearly ten."
The President mused thoughtfully till the boy returned; and honest Matthew Gournay, seeing that deep and agitating thoughts were engrossing all his attention, stood quietly gazing on the spot where he had slain the unhappy Ganay, and wondering that any man should take the trouble of poisoning another, when he might rid himself of his enemy so easily by the dagger or the sword.
At length the hat and cloak were brought; and Albert Maurice drew the one round his person, and the other over his brow. "Now, Matthew Gournay," he said, "take five-and-twenty men, and bid them follow me by separate ways to the palace. There wait till I come. I will be in the square almost as soon as you; and after I have spent some ten minutes in transacting business which admits of no delay, we will go on and liberate your good lord."
The ring which Matthew Gournay had received from his young lord, acted with the magic effect of some talisman in an Eastern tale; and whatever commands he received from Albert Maurice, he obeyed at once, with unquestioning alacrity. The five-and-twenty men were soon summoned--for the whole force of the free companions had been poured into the town of Ghent, during the evening, by means of the gate which, as we have seen, the followers of the President had secured on his first entering the city. A few brief words directed them by different ways to the palace; and--passing through the various crowds which had been gathered together for the entertainment in the square, and which were now discussing, in eager tones, the events that had taken place in the town-house--the men selected to accompany, or rather to follow, the young citizen, soon made their way to the gates of the palace. That part of the town was nearly deserted, and the little square before the Cours du Prince was void and solitary, except where, nearly in the midst, a tall, dark figure, with its arms crossed upon its chest, stood gazing up at the building. All was quiet, and calm, and dark, along the facade of the palace, except where, here and there, from some of the long narrow windows, a stream of tremulous light broke upon the night.
For several minutes the figure continued to gaze, apparently fixing its glance earnestly upon one part of the building. But at length perceiving the number of soldiers collecting before the gate, Albert Maurice--for he it was, who had outwalked his followers--advanced, and after speaking a few words to Matthew Gournay, demanded admission from the warder of the fortified gate. He gave his name and station, and urged business of importance as an excuse for the lateness of his visit. The warder replied in a tone of humble deference, which circumstances had compelled the proud soldiers of Burgundy to learn in speaking to the once contemned burghers of Ghent, telling him that he would willingly admit him, but that, as his orders had been very strict for the last week, he must detain him at the gate while he caused the princess to be informed of the fact.
Albert Maurice made no objection, and remained, musing with a downcast countenance, across which the shadows of many emotions were passing, that he would not willingly have shown to the eye of open day. As calm and tranquil as a summer's morning, he had sat his horse in the midst of battle and conflict. Calmly, too, he had remained beside the man who was mixing a cup of poison for his lip, and preparing the dagger if the cup should fail. But now every nerve thrilled, and his heart beat like a coward's, though he was but to meet a fair and gentle girl, whose fate might almost be said to rest in his own hands. He had hoped, and he had dreamt, through many a long day; and various circumstances had combined to give those hopes and dreams a tangible foundation and a definite form. But now that the moment approached when they were to be realized or destroyed for ever, they faded all away into fears and anxieties.
The warder returned and bowed low, while the gates were thrown open. The soldiers within the court did military honours to the President of Ghent; and, assuming a firmer step and a prouder air, Albert Maurice passed on within the precincts of the palace, followed by the train who had met him according to his appointment. At the entrance-hall his followers paused; and he himself, ushered forward by one of the domestic attendants of the princess, ascended the steps towards a smaller chamber, adjoining the great hall of audience.
In the ante-room he cast off his hat and cloak, and remained in the rich dress in which he had descended to the banquet in the town-house; and as he passed on towards the door which the servant threw open, his eye fell upon a Venetian mirror, and perhaps he gained another ray of hope, from feeling that, in appearance as well as mind, he was not unfitted to move through those lordly halls, in the high station for which his ambition strove.
The chamber that he entered was but dimly lighted; and it was evident that the preparations for receiving him there had only been made upon the sudden announcement of his arrival. His eye, however, instantly rested upon Mary of Burgundy, as she sat surrounded by a number of her women; and the sweet smile with which she welcomed him so thrilled through his heart, that he felt the resolution which had brought him thither shaken, lest, by seeking for deeper happiness, he should lose even the joy of that sweet smile itself.
"Welcome, my lord," she said, "most welcome back again to Ghent. For though we had great joy from your victories and successes, the first that have ever yet blessed our cause, yet we have much needed your presence in the city."
"I hope, lady," replied the young citizen, with a tone of deep interest in all that concerned her immediate happiness, "I hope that you have suffered no personal annoyance; for, believe me, before I went, I took every means to guard you from the importunity of the Duke of Gueldres, or the intrusion of any one else."
"From the Duke of Gueldres," replied Mary, "who, I hear, unhappy man, has fallen in some of the late conflicts, I have, indeed, suffered nothing; nor have I truly to complain of any one else. Though my good cousin of Cleves does, perhaps, press me somewhat unkindly to a union, which is little less fearful in my eyes than the other. Doubtless, he deems it for my good, and strong are the reasons he urges; but having taken on myself to decide, and having told him that decision, I would fain be spared all further discussion."
The cheek of Albert Maurice reddened with anger; and he answered hastily, "Fear not, dear lady; his importunities shall not press upon your Grace much longer. The city of Ghent and the states of Flanders have this night armed me, thank God! with sufficient power to sweep--to--to----"
Albert Maurice paused and hesitated; for the bold and ambitious words that had been just springing to his lips, he felt must not be rashly uttered in the ear of one whose love was to be gained and fixed, and whose hand, although it was the crowning object of all his ambition, though it was the motive for every energy and endeavour of his bosom, would at once become vain and valueless, if unaccompanied by her heart. He paused, and then continued, "have armed me with sufficient power, at once to guide the state, I trust, to permanent security and peace; and to sweep away from your domestic life every pain, anxiety, and fear."
The last words were spoken low and slowly; and as he pronounced them, he dropped his eyes to the ground; while the warm conscious blood rose up into his cheeks, and spoke far more than his lips. The words he uttered, it is true, had no very definite meaning, and might be taken up in a very general sense; but the tone, the manner, the hesitation, the flushing of the cheek, the timid glance of the eye, gave emphasis and purpose to the whole. For the first time, a suspicion of what was passing in his bosom flashed across the mind of Mary of Burgundy, and inspired her, for the moment, with a feeling of terror which approached very nearly to despair. She turned deadly pale, and trembled violently, as, with rapid thought, she ran over the circumstances of her situation, and found how helpless she was, if that suspicion were well founded. It was but for an instant, however, that she gave way to apprehension. From the first, she had appreciated the general character of Albert Maurice, especially its finer points, by a sort of instinctive comparison with her own. She knew that he was generous, high-spirited, noble-minded; and, though she might now find that her estimate of his ambition had been far below that which it should have been, yet she trusted to the better parts of his disposition to deliver her from the consequences of the worse. She knew that she was in his power. She felt that his will was law, in all the country that surrounded her; and that, if he chose, he could blast her hopes and happiness for ever. But, at the same time, she felt there was some resource, though the only one, in the native generosity of his heart; and she determined to appeal to it boldly as her sole refuge from despair. It is true that a union with Albert Maurice, whose splendid qualities she could not but acknowledge, might, were such feelings susceptible of any very marked shades of difference, and had it been possible for her to dream for one moment of such a union, might have been less repugnant to her, than the marriages which had been proposed with the drivelling boy of France, with the coarse and brutal son of the Duke of Cleves, or with the cruel and unnatural Duke of Gueldres. But still, the simple fact existed, she loved another with all the deep sincerity of a woman's first affection, and the very thought of any other alliance was abhorrent to every feeling of her heart.
Nothing could have balanced those feelings in her bosom, but her strong sense of duty to the nation she was called upon to govern and protect. She could, indeed, and would, have sacrificed everything for her country and her people; but that people themselves had rejected the only alliance that could have benefited them; and, in the present instance, no such object could have been gained by her marriage with the President of Ghent, as that which the French alliance might have accomplished, even could she have entertained the thought of bestowing the hand of the heiress of Burgundy on an adventurous and aspiring citizen, a thought from which all Mary's feelings revolted, not the less strongly for the natural gentleness of her character. Had time for reflection been added, the discovery or the suspicion of his love might have afforded a key to all the conduct of the young citizen, and, by showing to what deeds his passion had already betrayed him, might have increased a thousand-fold the terror of the unhappy princess; but, luckily, the consideration of her own situation, and of the means of averting the consequences she dreaded, engrossed her wholly, and thus guarded her from worse apprehensions.
The first effect of his speech, and of the sudden conviction which his manner, more than his words, produced, was, as we said, to turn her deadly pale; and while a thousand new anxieties and painful considerations crossed her mind, she remained gazing on him so long, in silence, that she felt he must see that he was understood. The silence of her own embarrassment then becoming painful to her, as well as to him, the blood rushed up into her face, and yet she could not reply; so that both remained completely mute for several moments, after words had been spoken, which, to the by-standers, seemed perfectly simple.
At length she answered--"Oh! Sir President, if such power has been granted to you by the states, use it nobly, and Heaven will bless you."
"As far, lady, as my poor judgment can extend, I will use it nobly," replied Albert Maurice, over whose heart an icy chill had come, he knew not well why. "But," he added, "as I would fain use it for your happiness--believing it to be inseparable from that of the people--let me crave a few words with you in private, that I may ascertain more fully how that happiness may be best consulted."
He spoke slowly and calmly; but, from the quivering of his lip, it was evident that each word cost him a painful struggle to pronounce. On the other hand, Mary was herself embarrassed by his request, which was not a little contrary to the etiquette of her situation; and yet he who requested, she knew, might command; and she felt that, perhaps, it might be better for both that they should be alone.
After a moment's pause, then, she gave the necessary order for her attendants to withdraw into the ante-chamber, and then resumed her seat. Albert Maurice stood beside her, with his eyes still bent upon the ground; and for a moment, after the suite had quitted the chamber, he remained silent, striving to master all the emotions which were agitating his heart. It was a painful struggle, but at length he succeeded; and then raising his head with some degree of proud consciousness in his aspect, he looked calmly on the princess.
"Madam," he said, in a firmer voice than he had hitherto commanded, "your general welfare, and that of your people, is undoubtedly one great, and ought to be one paramount, object with me in all I strive for; but, at the same time, believe me--oh, believe me! that your individual happiness is no less a deep and overpowering consideration in my mind. Lady, I know, and feel painfully, that the great difference of rank and station between us, may prevent you from conceiving fully how dear your interests are to me. Nay, turn not pale, madam!" he added, with watchful and somewhat irritable pride, softened by deep and sincere affection--"Nay, turn not pale! No word shall you hear from my lips, that may offend your ear or wound your heart. Lady, the ambitious, misproud citizen may have as elevated, perhaps more devoted, ideas of true affection, than the noble, whose pride and arrogance are his right of birth; and may be able to crush his own heart, to sacrifice more than life--hope, blessed hope itself, to serve the being that he loves. And do you weep?" he continued, seeing the tears roll rapidly over the fair cheek of Mary of Burgundy. "And do you weep? Then I have said too much. Yet, hear me a little. I see you agitated, far more agitated than anything which has passed hitherto should have occasioned, unless the words we have spoken, whose import seems but small, may have touched some fine strung cord within your heart, and made sadder music than I dreamed of. However, in this land of Flanders I have now no small power, which may last God knows how long. But fear not that the power I do possess will ever be used to thwart one wish of your heart. Whatever it may cost me, it shall be employed to serve you with deep and true attachment. There is," he added, his emotion almost mastering his calmness; "there is one question I would ask, which is hard to put, and may be painful to answer. Yet, let me speak it quickly and briefly, lest I should fail."
He paused for a moment, and looked down; while his hand became clenched fearfully tight, as if in the struggle to suppress some deep feelings that would fain have burst forth, but, after a single moment, all was again vanquished, and he proceeded:--"Some months have now passed since your father's eyes were closed in death; your dominions are invaded, your people are distracted by different parties, and your nobles are leaguing together to snatch one from another the blessing of your hand. It is time, lady, that you should make a choice; and although I know no one, on all the earth, that is worthy of the happiness within your gift, yet, if there be any one to whom you can give your heart, I will--I will--Yes!" he added, more firmly, "I will do all that mortal man can do, to render you happy in your love!" He paused; and although an indefinable something in the conduct and demeanour of Mary of Burgundy through that night, had already shown him that one half of his dreams were dreams indeed; yet hope--persevering hope--lingered still, and whispered, "If she love none else, she may still be mine."
Mary of Burgundy's conduct was already determined; but nevertheless she trembled in every limb; and long, long was it, ere she could reply. At length she answered--"You have, indeed, put to me a question, which makes me feel most painfully how different is the station of princes from the happy and modest retirement of private life. Nay, do not think I blame you, sir; I blame but my hard fate. You are most kind; and, amidst a base and interested crowd, who would fain make me the slave of their wild ambitions, I shall ever remember you with gratitude, as the only one--who--with more power than all the rest to command my fate, was willing to cast self away, and--and to seek my happiness alone. Feeling thus; believing from my heart that in your generous nature I may perfectly rely, I answer your question as distinctly as it is put. There is, I believe, but one man to whom I can conscientiously give my hand. 'Tis now near two years ago, that, by my father's command, I plighted my faith in writing, and pledged thereto a ring, to one, whom I had been taught, during some months of happy intimacy, to look upon as my future lord--Maximilian, Archduke of Austria--"
"And you love him! and you love him!" cried Albert Maurice, starting forward, and, forgetful of all restraint, grasping her firmly by the wrist. The princess started up alarmed, and a cry of terror at his sudden vehemence, had nearly passed her lips. But she stifled it ere it was uttered; and the next moment Albert Maurice had recovered himself, and was kneeling at her feet.
"Pardon me! pardon me, princess of Burgundy!" he said. "Give me, oh, give me your forgiveness! The dream is gone, the vision is over, and Albert Maurice, the humblest of your subjects, is ready to pour out his blood, to atone for all that he has done amiss. Madam," he added, rising, "I have been living in a dream; and, I fear me, when I come to look upon it steadily, I shall find it a sad one. But no more of that: at present I am, if that be not a dream also, President of the states general of Flanders, and armed with greater power than any other man in the land. What can I do to sweep all obstacles from before your wishes? Tell me quickly how I can serve you. Let me at least work out your happiness, before the memory of the past turn my brain."
"Oh, speak not so wildly, sir!" cried Mary. "You have great powers and noble energies, which will guide you to the height of fame; and yet, I trust, to the height of happiness. Indeed, sir, I cannot speak farther, while you seem so moved."
"Madam, I am perfectly calm," replied Albert Maurice. "Those energies and those powers your Grace is pleased to speak of, may last a longer or a shorter time, according to God's will; and I am most anxious to wipe out any offence I have committed, by employing them vigorously in your service. Let me beseech you to speak. Shall I send off immediate messengers to the Archduke?"
"No, no! Oh, no!" cried Mary; "I fear too much has been done already in that course, by my kind step-dame, the Duchess Margaret, and my good cousin of Ravestein; for I hear--for I hear--that the Archduke is already on his way to Brussels."
"Ha!" cried Albert Maurice; "ha!" but he said no more, and the princess proceeded.
"Yet, sir," she said, "I have many fears; for I know that the Duke of Cleves has not only sent forth messengers to forbid his approach, but also I learn from my dear foster-sister, Alice of Imbercourt, who is now with the good Lord of Hannut, that a hundred men, bearing the colours of the house of Cleves, have passed through Brussels; and, there is reason to believe, they waylay the road from the Rhine."
"Indeed! This must be seen to!" said the young citizen, in the same abstracted manner. "But your Grace was about to add----"
"Merely this, sir," replied Mary, with that calm, impressive gentleness that is more touching than any vehemence; "that the man to whom I believe myself plighted by every tie but the final sanction of the church, is, I am told, on his road hither, slenderly accompanied--for the avarice of the emperor is well known; and his son now journeys with hardly ten attendants. He has strong enemies on the way and I leave you to judge, sir, of the feelings that I experience."
The lip of Albert Maurice quivered; but he still retained command over himself, and replied in a low but distinct voice, though, in every tone, the vehement struggle he maintained to master the agony of his heart was still apparent: "To calm those feelings, madam, shall be my first effort; and, as I have received timely information, entertain not the slightest apprehension of the result. I will serve you, madam, more devotedly than I would serve myself; and the last energies that, possibly, I may ever be able to command, shall be directed to secure your happiness. I have now detained you long. Night wears, and time is precious. I humbly take my leave. May Heaven bless you, madam! May Heaven bless you! and send you happier days to shine upon your reign, than those with which it has begun."
He bowed low, and took two or three steps towards the door, while Mary gazed upon him with eyes in which compassion for all she saw that he suffered, and woman's invariable sympathy with love, called up an unwilling tear. "Stay, sir, one moment," she said at length; "it may be the last time that ever I shall have the power to thank you, as Duchess of Burgundy, before I resign my sovereignty with my hand to another. Believe me, then, that as far as the gratitude of a princess towards a subject can extend, I am grateful to you for all that you have done in my behalf. Believe me, too, that I admire and esteem the great qualities of your mind, and that I will, as far as in me lies, teach my husband"--and she laid a stress upon the word--"to appreciate your talents and your virtues, and to honour and employ them for our common benefit. Take this jewel, I beseech you," she added, "and wear it ever as a token of my gratitude."
"Oh! madam!" exclaimed Albert Maurice, as he advanced to receive the diamond she proffered. He took it slowly and reverentially; but as her hand resigned it, his feelings overpowered him, and pressing the jewel suddenly to his heart, he exclaimed, "I will carry it to my grave!" Then turning, without farther adieu, he threw open the door and quitted the apartment.