CHAPTER XVI.
The night was as black as Acheron. The rain poured down in torrents. The melting of the snow rendered the roads in the lower parts one mass of mud and water, while the higher ground, where the temperature was colder, afforded nothing but a slippery and uncertain footing for the horses, over which they had the greatest difficulty in making their way. There was no possibility of seeing more than four or five yards in advance; the wind blew the falling deluge in the eyes of the whole party; and the heart of Louis de Montigni sank, when he thought of all that Rose d'Albret was exposed to for his sake. He strove to cheer her, however, as she rode beside him; he guided and supported her horse in all the more difficult parts of the way; and often he expressed his fears and apprehensions regarding her, almost regretting that any inducement had led him to bring her forth in such a night as that.
Rose spoke little in return, for her heart was too full of manifold sensations, her mind too busy with thought for many words; but all that she did say was kind, and even cheerful; for she perceived clearly his deep anxiety for her, and strove to lighten the load as much as possible. She assured him that she did not mind the tempest, that she was accustomed to endure such things frequently, that her jennet was the most sure-footed beast on earth, that she doubted not the sky would soon clear; and when she saw how he reproached himself for all that she was enduring, she reassured him by expressing her joy and thankfulness at having escaped from an union, which every moment's thought rendered more odious in her eyes. Thus they rode on for nearly an hour and an half, sometimes slowly, sometimes rapidly, according to the nature of the ground: the horsemen who accompanied them, keeping as close around them as possible, for even such a dark and stormy night was not without dangers of another kind, from the state of turbulent anarchy into which the country was plunged.
At length, however, the rain suddenly ceased; the air became hot and sultry; the wind died away; and Rose, turning to her lover, exclaimed, "I told you, Louis, it would be finer soon."
Almost as she spoke, a bright blaze flashed over the whole sky, illuminating the prospect on every side, which had before been hidden under the dark veil of night. The trees of the forest on the right, the wide undulating country on the left, the village and the spire in the distance, the valley into which they were descending in front, were all seen for a single instant, as clearly as if the day had suddenly dawned; while, across the very midst of the glare which blazed over the whole heaven, was seen a thin and quivering line of more intense light, beginning near the zenith, and ending apparently at a tree, some two or three hundred yards in advance, several large limbs of which, were seen falling to the earth, with a rending and a crashing sound, just as the darkness swept over the sky again, and all was night once more.
The horses started at the blaze; and Rose d'Albret covered her eyes with her hand, while Louis de Montigni checked the speed at which they were proceeding, saying, "We must go more slowly, dear Rose. This is unfortunate indeed."
"It may be so, Louis," replied his fair companion, "but storm, and tempest, and the fierce turbulence of such a night as this, are nothing in my eyes, compared with the slow and lengthened misery of, a home without affection, and the living death of, a marriage without love."
"Look! look, Sir! look!" cried one of the men, pointing forward to the sky: but the eyes of his master, and of all the party were already fixed on the same spot, where, in the midst of the heaven, one of the most extraordinary phenomena of nature was suddenly presented to them. For a space of several degrees the clouds seemed to have rolled back, and were seen piled up, in enormous masses on either hand, like the scenes flanking a wide stage, while between them spread out an expanse of pale whitish light, with a red wavy streak below, resembling a plain which has caught the purple rays of the setting sun. On either hand, from amongst the masses of vapour, appeared to dash forth bodies of fiery combatants, horse and foot mingled together, rushing, charging, overthrowing each other, now mixed in furious combat, now separating for a moment, now chasing each other over the field. Again and again the squadrons met, as if in deadly shock, and balls of fire, as of some unearthly cannonade, crossed the sky in the midst of that strange scene, till at length, while the fight seemed still going on, the clouds once more rolled over the whole, and all returned to darkness.[[1]]
"This is very strange," exclaimed Louis de Montigni: "I have heard of such a thing; but I never believed it before."
"We shall have a battle soon, Sir," said one of the men. "I wish we could have seen which party won the day."
"The King's, to be sure," replied another; "did you not see how he drove them back?"
"And which do you call the King's?" asked the young Baron, smiling to see how readily imagination had seized upon the strange sight they had beheld, to turn it to the purposes of superstition.
"That on the right, Sir," answered the man. "The King has the right, I am sure; and besides, I saw him in the front rank with a large plume in his casque."
"My eyes were not so good," said De Montigni. "Did you ever see the King, Hugh?"
"Not I, Sir," replied the attendant; "but I am certain that was he, and his horse was as red as blood."
His master said nothing in return, but rode on slowly, conversing in a low tone with Rose d'Albret, while from time to time the lightning flashed across their path, but less vividly than before; and ere long the rain began to fall again, and the thunder ceased.
Now came the most fatiguing part of the journey, for the narrow path which they were following entered the hilly and wooded country about Montlandon and Champrond en Gatine, and they were forced to climb and descend continually, over a road on which the snow was but half melted and the mud up to the fetlocks of their horses, while still the torrents poured down from the sky, drenching their garments through and through. The wind had totally ceased, but the air was more sultry and close than ever; and both horses and riders suffered much from its oppressive warmth.
Rose d'Albret became silent from fatigue, for the agitation of the last twenty-four hours now had its full effect upon her; and fears lest her bodily strength should give way, added to what she suffered. There is a calm and persevering endurance which goes far; there is a light-hearted and hopeful energy which carries one through innumerable evils; but the greatest burden upon all exertion is the fear of failing--if once we let apprehension take possession of us. Rose knew that it is so, and she strove hard, for De Montigni's sake, to banish all such alarm; but the time seemed very weary, the way interminably long. She looked anxiously for the first, grey light of morning. More than once--when at the bottom of a hill--she thought she saw some streaks of light over the brow; and as often she was disappointed, till at length, as they issued forth from a thick forest that then lay between Marolles and the edge of La Beauce, her lover exclaimed gladly, "There, there is the daylight, Rose;" and looking forward, she perceived distinctly the faint hues of coming day stretching over the eastern sky, and the dark walls and towers of the castle of Montlandon on its wooded height, standing out in strong relief.
That castle offers now nothing but a picturesque ruin to the eye of the passing traveller; but, at the time I speak of, it was inhabited; and a beacon fire on one of the turrets, waning in lustre with the rising light, told that its owner took part for one side or the other in the civil war.
"If I remember right," said Louis de Montigni, speaking to the man who acted as their guide, "that is Montlandon; cannot we get shelter there?"
"No, Sir, oh no!" replied the soldier. "We must change the colour of our scarfs if we do; for Monsieur de Montlandon is furious for the Union, and a great friend of Monsieur de Chazeul's."
"That is unfortunate indeed," said De Montigni. "Alas! dear Rose, I fear you are well nigh exhausted. Can you go on, my beloved?"
"Oh, yes!" answered Rose, in as cheerful a tone as she could assume; "for another hour, Louis--or two, should it be needed."
"It will not be safe to stop, Mademoiselle, till we get to Les Châtelets," observed the attendant, who was one of the old followers of the good Commander de Liancourt, "and that is near three leagues; but the road is better here in Beauce; and we can go faster in the daylight. But we had better use speed, Sir, and pass this village and Champrond before the people are awake, or we may find enemies."
"With all my heart," cried Rose d'Albret; "this slow travelling in the darkness is more fatiguing far than a quick pace;" and putting their horses into a brisk canter, they hurried through Montlandon, before any of the cottage windows showed signs of waking life. When they reached Champrond, however, a good many of the villagers were standing out under the shelter of their doors. The greater part, indeed, seemed more terrified at the sight of the body of horsemen, than desirous of impeding their progress, and retreated into their houses as soon as the white scarfs appeared. But one stout blacksmith stood before his forge, and shouted as they passed, "What news from the armies?"
"The King has taken Dreux," replied one of the attendants, in the same loud tone, "and is marching upon Chartres."
"Curses on the Maheutre!" cried the blacksmith, and retired grumbling into his dwelling.
No opposition, however, was offered to their passage; and at a quick pace they hurried on; but the anxious eye of De Montigni saw that Rose's cheek was very pale, her fair head bent down, and the hand which held her bridle resting on the pommel of the saddle, as if she could hardly manage her reins.
"Ah, dearest girl," he said, "let us stop at the first cottage. You are faint,--you are ill."
"No, no," she answered; "I can go on, Louis. I am somewhat tired, but I can go on," and in about five minutes more their guide exclaimed,
"There is the Eure! We shall soon be safe!"
Such words of encouragement revived the poor girl's strength for a few minutes longer, till a hamlet, containing some half dozen houses, appeared a little to the left, and De Montigni, without further question, turned his horse's head thither, sprang to the ground at the door of the first cottage, and, throwing his arm round his fair companion, lifted her from the saddle.
Rose leaned upon his bosom, for she could not support herself; and, raising her in his arms, he carried her into the hut, where they found a peasant and his young wife taking their early meal. The good people of this place seemed to know little, or care little, of Royalists and Leaguers. They were of the best party, the party of human nature; and the young woman rose eagerly from the table, with expressions of kindly compassion, to assist poor Rose d'Albret, laid her upon her own bed, all dripping as she was, and insisted upon making her put on some of her own apparel, while she dried the lady's wet garments at the fire. Fatigue and exhaustion, however, were the greatest evils under which Rose was suffering; and De Montigni eagerly asked for wine, as her pale cheeks and bloodless lips showed him how faint she felt.
"Here is cyder," said the peasant, "but that is poor stuff for such a lady; and wine we have none."
"Run, Victor, run down to the priest's," cried his wife; "you will get wine there."
"Or at Master Leger's," answered the cottager; "he has better wine than the priest."
"I will go myself," cried De Montigni. "Come with me, good man; and, while we are gone, your wife can undress the lady and assist her to bed. A few hours' repose will do her much good."
"I am better now, Louis," said Rose d'Albret, stretching out her hand to him; "do not leave me long. I am afraid of some one coming while you are gone."
"I will be but an instant, dearest Rose," replied her lover, "and in the meanwhile our people shall remain round the house. You had better take off your wet clothes, dear one;" and he added, with a faint smile, "I have no title to be present at your toilette yet."
The colour came faintly into her cheeks again; and, once more promising not to be many minutes absent, the young nobleman hurried away with the peasant, closing the door behind him, and bidding the attendants remain on guard before the house till he returned.
At the end of the little straggling hamlet stood a house with a projecting pole, from which was suspended a withered bush, giving clear indication that there was the place where village festivals, marriages, and merry makings, usually were celebrated. Here some tolerable wine was easily procured, and, hurrying back with it, De Montigni was soon by the side of her he loved, who, now stretched on the low bed of the good peasants, had already somewhat recovered the rosy look of health, and spoke cheerfully to him of being soon able to proceed.
But De Montigni did not feel so confident of Rose's powers, and inquired anxiously of the peasants, whether any carriage or litter could be procured in the neighbourhood. Nothing of the kind, however, was to be heard of, and they assured him that to seek any conveyance but a horse or a mule nearer than Chartres or Dreux, was quite out of the question. He then proposed to construct a litter in haste, but Rose would not hear of it, declaring, that in an hour's time she would be quite ready to pursue her journey on horseback; and, indeed, she seemed so eager to go on, and so fearful of being overtaken, that she would fain have risen even before an hour was over, declaring that she had had rest enough. De Montigni, however, persuaded her to remain for half an hour longer; and, going out of the door with their young host, he made some inquiries regarding the state of the country in the neighbourhood, and the best road he could follow towards Dreux.
The replies he received were not altogether satisfactory. Several large bodies of men, the peasant said, had passed through the village the day before; but whether they were Royalists or Leaguers he could not well tell, as he took no great heed of such things, and the soldiers had passed on without stopping, even to drink. One corps had taken up its quarters for the night, he heard, in a village about a league and a half farther on; but every fact he mentioned showed the young nobleman that it would be needful to use every precaution, during their onward journey, in order to avoid falling into the hands of the Leaguers. For this purpose, he determined to send forward one of the attendants, with directions to keep about half a mile in advance of the rest of the party, while another preceded them by about three hundred yards, so that early intelligence might be obtained of any approaching danger. A man, too, was left to follow at a little distance behind, for the purpose of guarding against being overtaken suddenly by any party of pursuers from the Château of Marzay, though De Montigni had good hope that the speed with which they travelled, had removed all risk of such an event.
Everything being prepared, all orders given, the horses refreshed and fed, and Rose d'Albret dressed in the clothes which had been dried before a large wood fire, she was once more placed upon the back of her jennet, and, at a slower pace than before, they again set out upon their journey, after De Montigni had amply paid for all that he had taken. At a distance of about a mile from the village, the man who had been thrown forward, returned to say, that the ropes of the ferry-boat over the Eure had been cut by the soldiers, as they passed on the preceding day, and that they must go further up the stream to seek a ford.
The weather, however, had become somewhat finer. The rain had ceased, except a few drops from a flying cloud, now and then. Rose looked and spoke cheerfully, and seemed really to have recovered from the fatigue she had undergone; the fear of being overtaken had grown fainter with every league they had advanced; and though the Eure was somewhat flooded by the rains that had fallen, they soon found a ford. The marks of horses' feet showed that some persons had passed not long before, and, causing the whole of his little troop to keep on the left, in order to break the force of the water, De Montigni led over the lady's jennet, without much difficulty, and gained the opposite bank.
This obstacle overcome, they proceeded for half an hour more without encountering any fresh impediment; and, giving way to hope and love, they talked of future happiness and bright days to come, and gave way to all the dreams that visit the young heart in the season of fancy and expectation, and clothe the coming years with all the glittering garments of imaginary joy. They were both too young, they were both too inexperienced not to feel the heart rise the moment that danger and apprehension ceased; and, to say truth, though Hope may be--as she is often too justly called--an untiring deceiver, yet, even in the midst of her false promises, she confers real and inestimable benefits, giving us strength to endure and courage to go on, which none of the truer and more substantial things of life can afford.
Thus the happy dreams in which Rose d'Albret and her lover indulged, during that brief half hour, comforted and refreshed her more than the repose she obtained at the cottage; but the pleasant moments were soon interrupted. At the end of the time we have named, the man who was farthest in advance rode back at speed to the one behind him, and, taking his place, sent him back to tell De Montigni that a body of some two hundred horse were moving over the country before them, in the direction of Tremblay. The first soldier had halted; and, riding up with the man who served them as guide, De Montigni asked him, with some anxiety, if he had been seen. The reply was in the negative; and a consultation was held as to what course should now be pursued, in order to avoid encountering the party which he had observed. It was at length determined to take the cross roads to the east, and, once more the Eure, to endeavour to reach the King's camp at Dreux, from the side of Paris.
"We shall have better roads there, Sir," said their guide, "and shall run less risk; for the country about Hauteville, Poigny, Epernon, and Maintenon generally holds for the King."
"It will lengthen the way," replied De Montigni; "and I fear for Mademoiselle d'Albret."
"Oh, do not think of me, Louis," exclaimed Rose; "if it is a safer road, it will seem to me a shorter one."
"Besides, Monsieur le Baron," rejoined the guide, "we can rest as long as we like at Nogent Leroy, for it has always been loyal; and, though little more than a village, it defended itself against the Chevalier d'Aumale and three hundred of the League. We can reach it in less than two hours."
"Then let us thither with all speed," answered De Montigni; "for there we shall find safety and repose combined, dear Rose."
This plan was accordingly followed; and, in less than the time mentioned Nogent Leroy was reached, without any further peril or impediment. Though, as the guide had described it, the place was in fact but a village, yet gates, and freshly erected barricades gave it at that time the air of a town; and the marks of musket-balls, in the wood-work of the palisade, showed that it had been fiercely attacked and had shown a gallant resistance. The little party was stopped for a moment at the barriers, but the white scarfs worn by De Montigni's men, and the answer of "Vive le Roi!" to the "Qui vive?" of the guard, soon obtained them admission; and, riding on down the street, they reached a small but clean and neat looking inn, over the door of which was written the usual inscription, "Lodging for man and horse."
The host came out to meet them, showed them into a room strewed with rushes, called forth his wife in eager and imperative tones to wait upon the lady, and began in the same breath to ask tidings of his guests, and to communicate all the information which he himself possessed. The intelligence he afforded indeed was much more important than any that De Montigni could supply in return; for the very first news he gave imported, that a battle might be expected every hour, that the two armies must be within a few leagues of each other, and that parties of Leaguers and Royalists were hurrying up from every quarter to swell the ranks of Mayenne and the King.
These tidings somewhat startled De Montigni and his fair companion; but the host, who was an eager Royalist, spoke so confidently of the certain defeat of the League and the triumph of the King, that the apprehension of fresh dangers and difficulties, which the intelligence had at first produced, soon died away; and De Montigni, turning to her he loved as soon as they were alone, pressed her hand in his, saying, "God send the King good success, dear Rose: but even if it should be otherwise, which I will not believe we can but pursue our flight somewhat further, and the very hurry and confusion of such events will serve to conceal us from the eyes of those we have most cause to fear."
Rose indeed could scarcely view the matter so cheerfully; but she would not show her apprehensions, and only asked what course her lover would pursue, if it should be found that a battle had been fought and lost by the King, before they reached his camp.
"That cannot well be, dear Rose," replied De Montigni; "for I trust we shall reach his camp to-night. They say he has raised the siege of Dreux, and is now at Annet. You can take three or four hours' rest here, and yet reach that place before dark. We must do so, if possible; for in case of success we shall then be free from danger: and in case of reverse we shall have the means of judging in what direction to turn our steps. If further flight should be necessary, which heaven forbid! I know that my own dear Rose will not hesitate to give me her hand at once, to remove all chance of separation; and I would fain obtain the King's written sanction to our union, to obviate all difficulties, before a battle takes place--the event of which is always doubtful."
He held Rose's hand in his as he spoke; and, though she bent down her eyes under his eager gaze, she gave no sign of hesitation or reluctance. Yet he could not be satisfied without full consent; and he asked, "Shall it not be so, dear Rose? Will you not be mine at once?"
"I am yours, De Montigni," replied Rose d'Albret in a low tone. "You will never ask ought that is wrong, I am sure; so that I may well promise to grant whatever you do ask. But I hope we shall find the King, and that he will win the day, and then I may be yours openly and happily, and not in flight, and dread, and concealment."