CHAPTER X.
It was evident, from the manner in which La Tour and the old lady, whom we called Dame Marguelette, received me, that they had been already made acquainted with the fact of my being there; and, therefore, there was no degree of astonishment whatever in their countenances, though much joy. I thought they would have devoured me; but when the first expressions of gladness and satisfaction were over, I remarked a great change in the appearance of the good old pastor. The few months that I had been absent seemed to have worn and broken him more than several years had done at a preceding period; and there were also lines of much care and thought about his brow and eyes, together with a melancholy expression round his mouth, which was very painful to me to behold. Nor was my good old friend Dame Marguelette as well-looking or as hale as when I left her. Such were my impressions; but they, on the other hand, could hardly find words to express how much improved I appeared to them in personal appearance since I had quitted the chateau.
After a few minutes given to mutual gratulations, my next question, of course, was, where was the baron, and what brought them there.
"Alas! my son," replied La Tour, "where the baron is I cannot well tell you; but I much fear that he is in the hands of the enemy. I trust not with his own consent; but I fully believe with the consent and by the arrangement of the woman whom he has so madly made his wife. But I have a long story to tell you, Henry, which will explain the whole; and I had better tell it you at once. Alas! you little know what a change has taken place since you were at Blancford."
He then went on to tell me all that had occurred, drawing a sad picture of a wretched and miserable family. The baroness he depicted as harsh, haughty, and unprincipled--capricious to such a degree that there was no calculating upon any determination for a whole day, and only checkering the most idle and licentious levity with occasional fits of violent passion or long hours of gloomy sullenness. The baron, on his part, evidently both contemned and despised her; and yet, as we so frequently see, the woman who had acquired a tie upon him by his passions and his vices, ruled him like a slave by his weaknesses, even after his passions had been sated. The conduct of both to the children of the late baroness was anything, La Tour said, but what it should be, though towards Louise, the old man added, her father displayed strong affection, and sought her society when he seemed to fly from that of any one else. As to the religion of the baroness, the Protestant minister declared his solemn belief that she had none; but if ever she had a leaning either way, it was towards papistry. He feared very much too, he added, he feared very much that the baron himself was wavering in his faith. "And that fear," he added, "has induced me to cast every other consideration behind me, and to remain with the poor children, still to guard their minds from perversion as far as possible."
The time since my departure thus passed, he said, in the most comfortless state of discontent on all parts, until at length the baron had declared, that if he could not obtain a safe conduct to reside unmolested in Paris with his whole household, he would take arms and join the Protestant forces.
It was the policy of the court of France at that time, by every sort of bribe, by every promise of immunity and inducement that could be held out, to prevent the lukewarm Protestants from joining the more zealous ones in arms. The words of the baron were speedily noised abroad; and with no greater space of time than was necessary for a courier to travel post-haste from Bordeaux to Paris and from Paris to Bordeaux, a safe conduct for the baron, and every one whose name he chose to insert in it, arrived at the Chateau de Blancford, with the sole condition annexed, that he should present himself at the court as speedily as possible, where every sort of honour and distinction, the document said, awaited him.
"His resolution was taken in a moment," continued La Tour; "and he proposed to me, ungraciously enough indeed, that my name should be put into the list. For the children's sake, and especially for dear Louise's sake, I suffered it to be done: and we advanced by slow journeys altogether till yesterday morning, when the baroness declared that, by pushing forward to Chatelherault, and thence to Leselle, they would put the Vienne and the Creux between them and the contending armies, and thus pass on to Paris without interruption. All the heavy baggage, and several of the servants and retainers, together with the old men and women, such as myself and Dame Marguelette, were to follow more slowly; but I yesterday heard the baroness speaking with one of the guides who had been hired to conduct their party not long before they went, in such a manner as to convince me that she at least would not be ill pleased to fall into the hands of the Catholic army. They went on; and though they promised to send back a messenger to tell us when they had safely passed the Vienne, none has ever come near us; and this morning we fell in with the baggage of our own army, and came on with it, thinking that we should be in greater security."
"But where is Louise?" I cried immediately. "Have they taken her on with them?"
"Alas! yes, my son," replied the pastor. "All the young people have gone on; and I do not believe that the baroness will at all grieve that they should be separated from those who have hitherto had the charge and direction of their youth."
The tidings that I heard made me, I acknowledge, very uneasy; and I meditated for some time without making any reply, revolving in my mind some plan for gaining more certain information regarding my relations. I judged that if they had followed the road towards Chatelherault and been taken, they must have fallen in with some of the troops of the Duke of Anjou's left wing, probably under La Vallette; and I therefore made up my mind to make an excursion on my own right, if possible, the next morning, and attempt to carry off some prisoners, who might give me information. I found that the baggage of the baron and all his old servants were in the immediate neighbourhood of the spot where they had erected my tent, and I took care that everything should be done to make the people comfortable.
I was somewhat uneasy, however, at not seeing good Martin Vern and his nephew, who I knew must have remained with the baggage when the Prince de Condé advanced. I accordingly sent out Andriot and one or two others to find them, which was, perhaps, a difficult task; as the wagons, and carts, and horses, and tents which formed my encampment were spread over a very large space of ground. They were found at length, however, in company with the Prince de Condé's intendant, wandering about at the extreme end of the encampment, not choosing to trust themselves without a guide in the wide chaos of all sorts of rascals and lumber that it contained. Good Martin Vern seemed not a little discontented with his expedition, and declared that, as soon as he had seen the Prince de Condé on the following morning, and had settled with him the business that brought him thither, he and his nephew would make the best of their way to Paris.
I now bethought me that if, by the mistake or rascality of the guide, the baggage of the Protestants had fallen into the hands of the enemy, my whole little fortune would have been also swept away, and that I should have been left almost in the same condition as that in which I had joined the army. How to remedy this, and to put my treasure beyond the chances of war, I did not know; but to consult good Martin Vern seemed the surest plan of obtaining advice, and he immediately proposed that I should place it in his hands, which, as he explained to me, was the common custom with those who had floating sums of money which they wished to put in security.
As, from all I had seen, I had not the slightest doubt of the good man's integrity, I acceded without the slightest hesitation, but only asked, "Are you not more likely to lose it in travelling through the country, unprotected, than even I am in the midst of an army?"
"Not a single crown of it," he said, laughing, "Will ever go out of this camp. The Prince de Condé will have it all, and glad to get it. He is to receive two hundred thousand crowns at Niort from a Jewish house with whom you yourself have had some dealings; part of the sum is on my account, and gold and silver plate to the full amount is by this time in my brother's hands in Paris. He will be glad enough to have your six thousand crowns in ready money instead of my bill upon Niort, which is the only way I should pay him. I give you an acknowledgment for the money, payable on demand; and if you should want it, or any part of it, you have nothing to do but to show my acknowledgment to any banker or merchant, and draw upon me what is called a bill of exchange. Were it not for these bills, my good young friend, in such troublous times as the present, no merchant would venture to stir out of his own city, for fear of being skinned alive on account of the money on his person."
On this explanation, the money was soon sent for and readily found; for my baggage had all been collected together round the tent, and the ground in the immediate vicinity was kept clear by my own people. After paying over six thousand crowns to Martin Vern, deducting the sum that I had sent him for the redemption of the knife, there still remained in my hands nearly five hundred crowns; and, with many thanks, I repaid to the good pastor the sum I had borrowed from him on quitting the Chateau of Blancford.
"I would not take it from you, my son," he said, "but I see your exertions have been blessed with success, and that you have already become what I may well consider enormously rich."
I would not tell him how changed my estimation of enormous riches was, as I could not explain to him--perhaps not even to myself--the causes of that change; but, even while we were speaking upon this subject, a messenger from the Prince de Condé came to the tent, seeking his intendant and Martin Vern, who accordingly sped away in all haste to confer with that general.
"Will you let some of your men carry this gold for me?" said Martin Vern, adding, with a smile, "This will ensure me a mighty warm reception from his highness."
Taking care that he should have a sufficient escort, I turned when the merchant was gone to his nephew, and asked him how he relished the thoughts of this immediate journey to Paris, and whether his military ardour was or was not at an end. To my surprise, however, I found that he was as much changed in some of his feelings as I was in some of mine; and for the first time I learned the cause of his whole conduct.
"You must know," he said, "That when I was living in Bordeaux, not long before my father's death, we became acquainted with a merchant's widow and her daughter, so well to do in the world that it was proposed I should marry the young lady. She was very beautiful, and I fancied myself in love with her. Indeed, I believe I was so; but she had got her head filled with ideas of battles and military glory; and though she coquetted with me a good deal, and gave me every encouragement, so as to raise my passion to the highest pitch, yet she declared that she would never give her hand to any one but a soldier, or one, at least, who had seen some service. If I would go and fight, she said, for two or three campaigns, she liked me well enough to promise to marry me; but she would not upon any other conditions. My father was so enraged that he broke off the match altogether; and, dying shortly after, left me under the charge of my uncle, who was even more averse to it than himself.
"Of course I could not see with their eyes at first, and thought of nothing but how beautiful she was; but afterward, when I had done quite enough to show that it was not fear prevented me from being a soldier, and was lying at Angoulême in sickness and in pain, I began to think that she must have been a very selfish and inconsiderate person, to wish me to expose myself to such things for the mere gratification of her vanity. If she loved me at all, she ought to have loved me sufficiently as I was--plain Martin Vern; and if she did not love me as I was, and could love nothing but a soldier, why, a soldier let her have. As time went by--and I had plenty of opportunity of thinking, as you know--I began to find out that I had not loved her as much as I thought; and not at all doubting that the quality she most loved in a soldier was a slashed pourpoint and the feather in his cap, I began to think the only quality I had liked in her was a pair of rosy lips and a pink and white complexion; and therefore, as soon as my uncle proposed it, I expressed myself quite satisfied to go on with him to Paris."
There was something amusing to me in the sort of debtor and creditor account the young man seemed to keep with his own heart; but as it was now beginning to wax late, I did my best to provide accommodation for all the friends around me; and telling La Tour that I had a scheme for gaining some information the next morning concerning the baron and his party, I led him to another tent, leaving good Dame Marguelette where she was, and for my own part took a station by one of the watch-fires for the night.
The complete knowledge that we have of any little stratagem that we attempt makes us always fear more than necessary that it will be suspected by others; but on the present occasion I was not wrong in supposing that an attempt might be made to discover the amount of our force upon these heights. It was even probable that the extent of ground which we occupied might create suspicion, as the position of the admiral and the Prince de Condé was accurately known; and it was not probable that they should weaken themselves by making a large detachment occupy that hill. However, I caused a number of saddled horses and armed men to wait at the point where our camp was most easily approached, and I remained by the side of the fire, wrapped in my cloak, dozing perhaps a little, but more frequently gazing upon the red embers, and thinking of the fate of my sweet cousin Louise.
Moric Endem, who had kept watch there during my absence, left me in about half an hour, to get some refreshment. It was long ere he returned; and, indeed, I cannot say that good Moric was ever famous for shortening his potations. When he did come back, he cast himself down at the other side of the fire, and fell as sound asleep on the hard ground, in the face of the enemy, as if he had been it the warmest bed of a well-fenced chateau. About five o'clock in the morning, having no more wood to trim the fire, which was beginning to grow very dull, I rose up and went out beyond the barricade which we had constructed, gazing up at the stars, which were shining in all the clear brightness of a frosty night.
As I so gazed I thought I heard sounds from below; and, looking down the slope, I clearly saw a body of horse and foot advancing slowly and silently towards our little camp. Going back quietly, but in haste, I woke Moric Endem, got the men together without any noise, stationed the arquebusiers among the carts and wagons, with directions for no one to fire till the general order should be given; and then causing my troopers to mount, I brought them close to the spot by which they could issue forth upon the enemy. I could there also see the Catholics as they approached; and, suffering them to advance till within the distance of sixty yards from the camp, I stood a little forward, like a sentinel, and challenged them. They made no answer, but only quickened their pace; but then, instead of discharging my arquebus, and leaving any one who liked it to follow my example, as a common sentinel would have done, I gave the word to fire, and in a moment a line of sharp flashes ran along the face of the carts and wagons, and, springing on my horse, I led out the men, and charged the advancing body down the hill. As well as I could see, I singled out their commander, with the hope of making him prisoner, for the body was evidently nothing more than a reconnoitring party, and not much stronger numerically than my own.
The surprise--for they had not calculated upon such a reception--the darkness, to fight in which they were altogether unaccustomed; and, as I imagine, a want of complete knowledge of the ground, rendered the resistance of the enemy but momentary; and we drove infantry and cavalry down the hill together at the point of the spear, bearing to the Catholic camp, and to Martigue, who had sent them, a somewhat exaggerated account, I have a notion, of the strength upon the hill. I somehow missed the commander in the dark; but I struck one man from his horse as he fled with the staff of my lance, and then pointing the iron to his throat, made him surrender, rescue or no rescue, and gave him into the hands of the people who followed. We pursued the reconnoitring party as far, or perhaps farther, than it was prudent; and then returning, had the prisoner brought up to a somewhat better lighted fire than the one I had been sitting at, and asked him the questions which I had proposed.
I found that he was a common soldier, though of good family; and on my inquiring strictly in regard to the Baron de Blancford and his party, he said that he had heard a report in the corps to which he belonged of that nobleman having either come in and surrendered himself, or being made prisoner, with a promise of safety, by some of the roving parties of the left wing. He described to me pretty accurately the part of the camp where he imagined the baron to be lodged; and as his own regiment could not be far from the spot, I took it for granted that he was right. I then put him at a small ransom for the sake of the men, and let him go upon parole; having taken especial care that he should see nothing around him but the grim faces of steel-clad horsemen, and the lighted matches of the arquebusiers.
By the time that all this was accomplished the eastern sky was beginning to grow gray, and a faint buzzing, murmuring sound seemed to me to indicate some early movement in the enemy's camp, although the light was not yet sufficiently strong for any eye to discern what was taking place. The murmur increased and grew louder; but of course I could make no attempt under such circumstances without orders, and I sent down a messenger immediately to tell the Prince de Condé what had occurred, and to ask for his instant commands. The reply was short, and written on a scrap of paper with a piece of black chalk.
"I think the enemy are decamping," it said: "if it should prove so, take what men you have as soon as it is daylight, and hang upon the rear. You shall be joined by fifty more as speedily as possible--all under your command. But be not too rash; for it is now determined not to risk a battle till the season is more advanced."
Before the messenger with this notification reached me, what the Prince de Condé had foreseen had become evident. By the gray light of the morning I could see the spears of the retreating army already winding along the opposite hill, within two miles of the outposts of the admiral. There was a thick, white mist in the valley, however, which covered the Catholic camp, and prevented me from perceiving what had taken place there; but I judged, from the distance at which the cavalry were now seen, that their retreat might be considered as secure.
Giving orders to Moric Endem to get every man that he could muster under arms as fast possible, I ran to the tent of good old La Tour, and besought him not to quit the army till my return, promising to bring or send some news of the baron and his family, if possible. Martin Vern I had not an opportunity of seeing, though I trusted, as he had all my little wealth, and had not even given me such a receipt as he had promised, that I should find him on my return. Not that I in the slightest degree doubted his honesty or honour, but that I knew I might have need of a part of what I had given him at a moment's notice. No time, however, was now to be lost; and, getting into the saddle as speedily as possible, I put myself at the head of my men and of the horse arquebusiers, and dashed down into the enemy's camp at full speed. A portion of the baggage, and that in some degree valuable, was left; and Moric Endem, whom I had christened the plunder-master-general, as he conducted all that part of our military proceedings, made a goodly booty in less than half an hour.
Ere we reached the end of the valley in pursuit, a body of fifty more spears joined us, sent, according to his promise, by the Prince de Condé, from whom I received, by their leader, an order to follow the enemy as far as possible, and not to leave them, unless I was compelled, till they were two days' march from their former camp. I had neither tents nor any other kind of baggage with me, and for a moment thought of sending back to bid the servants and horseboys follow; but recollecting of how much importance it was to lose no time, I urged on the pursuit, and speedily overtook a small body straggling from the rear-guard, whom we drove in upon the rest at the point of the spear.
The appearance of the horse-arquebusiers behind us, for they had not been quite so rapid in their movements as we were, gave the idea of a much more considerable body of pursuers than really followed the enemy; and a small troop of cavalry faced about and charged. Among them was one who seemed a mere youth; but the whole were routed in a moment, and the lad, thrown to the ground, was absolutely under my horse's feet. How he escaped unhurt I do not know; but I helped him to rise, and, scarcely thinking what I did, but looking on him as a mere child, I bade him remount his horse and get back to his own people as fast as he could. He took me at my word, and I did not see him again, though more than once during the rest of the day we met a body of the enemy in pretty sharp encounter.
On that night I slept at a small village somewhat in the rear of the enemy, and on the following day found it necessary to follow the pursuit somewhat more cautiously; for here we were, in all not one hundred and twenty men, nearly thirty miles distant from the Protestant army, and without anything to fall back upon nearer than that. To cut off stragglers, therefore, was all that we could do; but towards evening we took some prisoners, from whom I learned tidings that I was anxious to obtain.
The Duke of Anjou had by this time halted and encamped for the night; and the prisoners informed me that they belonged to the regiment of Monsieur de la Valette. On questioning them concerning the Baron de Blancford, one of them, who seemed their leader, informed me that that gentleman and all his family were detained as prisoners by the Duke of Montpensier. He seemed a somewhat willing prisoner, the man added, and was not guarded at all strictly, but left under the eyes of the Marquis de la Valette and his regiment. Their tents, he said, were on the extreme verge of the camp, to the right of the line of march; and the ease of carrying off the whole party seemed to me so great, that I determined to make the attempt that night.
We were still at some distance from the camp; but, to make the attempt more secure, I retired a little farther still, to a village called Scorbe, and there remained quiet, waiting with not a little impatience for the first hour of night, which, as I well knew, is of all others the time when a camp is left most exposed; when the men, first feeling themselves relieved from the vigilance, activity, and labour of the day, are thrown more completely off their guard than at any other period.
Here, in the mean time, I made all my arrangements with Moric Endem and the leader of the arquebusiers. The prisoners were safely locked up in a barn belonging to a neighbouring farm, and their horses, appropriated to our use, were destined to act a part which will speedily be seen.