Thus saying, he took the hand of the queen in his own, and was retiring from the room, the group around him only moving to give him passage, except one gentleman, who sprang to open the door. Two persons were left in the midst of the little crowd, not exactly isolated, but in circumstances of some awkwardness. Agnes Sorel, notwithstanding all her influence at the court, notwithstanding all her power over the mind of the young king, felt that the bonds between herself and those who now surrounded her were very slight, and that there were jealousies and dislikes toward her in the bosoms of many present. But she was relieved from a slight embarrassment by the unvarying kindness of Marie of Anjou. Ere Charles and herself had taken six steps through the hall, the queen turned her head, saying, with a placid smile, "Come with us, Agnes. I shall want you."
"Marvelous, truly!" said a lady standing near Jean Charost, speaking in a low tone, as if to herself. "Were I a queen, methinks I would have the vengeance Heaven sends me, even if I did not seek some for myself."
At the same moment, Tanneguy du Châtel laid his hand upon Jean Charost's arm: "You must come with me, De Brecy," he said. "You shall be my guest in the château. I have room enough there where I lodge. Wait but a moment till I speak a word or two with these good lords. We must not let the tide of good fortune ebb again unimproved. The royal name alone is a great thing for us; but it may be made to have a triple effect--upon our enemies, upon our friends, and upon the king himself. By my life, this is no time to throw one card out of one's hand."
He then spoke for several minutes in a low tone with Dunois, La Hire, Louvet, and others, and, returning to the side of Jean Charost, led him down to the outer court, on his way to that part of the building which he himself inhabited. There, patiently waiting by the side of the mule, they found the son of the landlord at Puy. The boy was dismissed speedily, well satisfied, with directions to send up the young gentleman's horse to the castle the next morning; and the rest of the evening was spent by Jean Charost and Tanneguy du Châtel almost alone. It was not an evening of calm, however; for the excitable spirit of the prévôt; was much moved with all that had passed, and with his prompt and eager impetuosity he commented, not alone upon the news that had been received, but upon all their probable consequences. Often he would start up and pace the room in a deep revery, and often he would question his young companion upon details into which the king himself had forgotten to inquire.
"The happy moment must not be lost," he said. "The happy moment must not be lost. The young king's mind must be kept up to the tone which it has received by this intelligence. Would to Heaven I could insure half an hour's conversation with the fair Agnes, just to show her all the consequences of the first great step. But I do not like to ask it; and, after all, she needs no prompting. She is a glorious creature, De Brecy. Heart and soul, with her, are given to France."
"Yet there be some," said Jean Charost; "some, even in this court, who seem not very well disposed toward her. Did you hear what was said by a lady near me just now?"
"Oh, Joan of Vendôme," cried Tanneguy, with a laugh; "she is a prescribed railer at our fair friend. She came to Poictiers two years ago, fancying herself a perfect paragon of beauty, and making up her mind to become the dauphin's mistress; but he would have naught to say to her faded charms--not even out of courtesy to her husband; so the poor thing is full of spleen, and would kill the beautiful Agnes, if she dared. She is too cowardly for that, however: at least I trust so."
Jean Charost meditated deeply over his companion's words, and whither his thoughts had led him might be perceived by what he next said.
"Strange," he murmured, "very strange, the conduct of the queen!"
"Ay, strange enough," answered Du Châtel. "We have here, within this little château of Espaly, De Brecy, two women such as the world has rarely ever seen, both young, both beautiful, both gentle. The one has all the courage, the intellect, the vigor of a man; and yet, as we see, a woman's weakness. The other is tender, timid, kind, and loving, and yet without one touch of that selfishness which prompts to what we call jealousy. By the Lord, De Brecy, it has often puzzled me, this conduct of Marie of Anjou. I do believe I could, as readily as any man, sacrifice myself to the happiness of one I love;[[3]] but I could not make a friend of my wife's lover. There are things too much for nature--for human nature, at least. But this girl--her majesty, I mean--seems to me quite an angel; and the other does, I will say, all that a fallen and repentant angel could to retain the friendship which she fears she may have forfeited. All that deference, and reverence, and humble, firm attachment can effect to wash away her offense, she uses toward the queen; and I do believe, from my very heart, that no counsel ever given by Agnes Sorel to Marie of Anjou has any other object upon earth but Marie's happiness. Still, it is all very strange, and the less we say about it the better."