'Before acceding to your request, Monseigneur, we demand to know whether Hercule François of Valois, Duc d'Alençon et d'Anjou, is an honourable man, and possessed of sufficient goods to ensure that Madame Jacqueline de Broyart et de Morchipont, Duchesse et Princesse de Ramèse, d'Espienne et de Wargny, continue to live as she hath done hitherto and in a manner befitting her rank.'
Whereupon Messire de Balagny made reply:
'His Royal Highness is a prince of the House of France; he defended our city in the hour of her gravest peril and saved her from destruction and from the fury of our Spanish foe. He is in every way worthy to have our ward for wife.'
'Wherefore, most honourable seigneurs,' continued the governor solemnly, 'I do desire by your favour to grant the hand of Madame Jacqueline to him in marriage.'
'This request we would grant you, Monseigneur,' rejoined the Chief Magistrate, 'but would ask you first how it comes that the bridegroom himself is not here to claim his bride.'
'The bridegroom,' replied d'Inchy, slowly and loudly, so that his voice could be heard, clear and distinct, in every corner of the great courtyard. 'The bridegroom is even at this hour within sight of our beleaguered city. He is at the head of his armies and only waits a favourable opportunity for demanding from the Spanish commander that the latter do give him battle. The bridegroom, I say, hath sent us a token of his goodwill and an assurance that he will not tarry. He hath asked that Madame Jacqueline do plight her troth to him before the assembled people of Cambray, so that they may know that he is true and faithful unto them and take heart of courage against his speedy coming for their deliverance.'
A murmur—it could not be called a cheer, for voices were hoarse and spent—went the round of the crowd. There were nods of approval; and a gleam of hope, almost of joy, lit up many a wan face and many a sunken eye. After so many deceptions, so much weary waiting and hope deferred, this was at least something tangible, something to cling to, whilst battling against the demons of hunger and disease which so insidiously called for surrender.
The Chief Magistrate, who together with Monseigneur had been chiefly instrumental in engineering the present situation, waited for a moment or two, giving time for the governor's cheering words to soak well into the minds of the people. He was a tall, venerable-looking old burgher, with a white beard clipped close to his long, thin face, and a black velvet bonnet, now faded to a greenish hue by exposure to all weathers, set upon his scanty hair. He drew up his bent shoulders and threw back his head with a gesture expressive both of confidence and of determination, and he allowed his deep-set eyes beneath their bushy brows to wander over the populace, as if to say: 'See how right I was to bid you hope! Here you have an actual proof that the end of your sufferings is in sight, that the deliverance for which you pray is already at your gate!' After which, he turned once again to d'Inchy and said loftily:
'Monseigneur the governor! the people of Cambray here assembled have heard with profound respect the declaration which you have deigned to make, as to the intentions of His Royal Highness the Duc d'Anjou et d'Alençon. On their behalf and on the behalf of the States of this Town and Province whom I represent, I hereby affirm most solemnly that we have the weal of our city at heart; that we will resist the armies of the Duke of Parma with the whole might of our arms and our will, awaiting tranquilly and with fortitude the hour of our deliverance. We trust and believe that he who defended us so valiantly four months ago will soon return to us, and rid us once and for ever from the menace of our foe.'
Once more a murmur of approval went round the Place. Wearied, aching heads nodded approval; firm lips, thin and pale, were set with a recrudescence of energy. All the stoicism of this heroic race was expressed in their simple acceptance of this fresh term of endurance imposed upon them, in their willingness to hope on again, to wait and to submit, and in their mute adhesion to the profession of faith loudly proclaimed by their Chief dignitary: 'awaiting tranquilly and with fortitude the hour of our deliverance.'