Having said this, he left them to see that all was properly prepared; and in a few minutes more Marie de Clairvaut, with the girl who accompanied her, were placed in one of the rude but roomy chaises of the country, and with six horses to drag it through the heavy roads, was rolling away in the direction of Limoges, followed by Charles of Montsoreau, and a party of five or six servants on horseback.
[CHAP. VIII.]
The autumn was far spent, an early winter had set intensely in, frost once more covered the ground, the last leaves had fallen from the trees, and looking round upon the thick tapestry that covered the walls, and the immense logs of wood which blazed in the deep arched fire-place, the tenant of a splendid room in the old château of Blois smiled when he thought of where he had last passed a similar frosty day: in arms in the open field against the enemies of the land.
Now, however, the appearance of Henry Duke of Guise was in some degree different from that which it had ever been before. Loaded with honours by the King, adored by the people, gratified in every demand, ruling almost despotically the state, the height to which he had risen had impressed itself upon his countenance, and added to that expression of conscious power, which his face had ever borne, the expression also of conscious success. His dress, too, was more splendid than it had ever been--not that he had adopted the silken refinements of Epernon or Joyeuse; not that his person was loaded with jewels, or that his ear hung with rubies: but every thing that he wore was of the richest and most costly kind; and as he now stood ready dressed to go down to hold the table of grand master of the King's household and generalissimo of the armies of France, at which Henry himself, and all the great nobles of the Court were that day to be present, it would have been difficult, throughout all Europe--nay, it would have been impossible, to match his princely look, or to excel in taste his rich apparel. One single star gleamed upon his bosom, the collars of manifold orders hung around his neck, the hilt of his sword was of massy gold, and thin lines of gold embroidery marked the slashings of his green velvet doublet, where, slightly opening as he moved with easy dignity, the pure white lining below appeared from time to time. There were no jewels on his hands, but one large signet ring. He wore no hat, and the brown hair curling round his forehead was the only ornament that decked his head. There was a jewel in his belt, indeed, a single jewel of high price, and the pommel of the dagger, which lay across his loins, was a single emerald.
From time to time, while he had been dressing;--indeed we might say almost every minute, some messenger, or page, or courier appeared, bearing him news or letters from the various provinces of the realm. His secretary stood beside him, but every line was read first by the Duke's own eye; and then he handed them to Pericard, either with some brief comment or some direction in regard to the answer to be returned.
"Ha!" he said, smiling, after reading one epistle. "There is a curious letter from good Hubert de Vins. Hubert loves me as his own brother, and yet to read that letter one would think he respected me but little. There is no bad name he does not give me down to Maheutre and Huguenot, because I trust in King Henry, who, he says, is as treacherous as a Picardy cat."
"I think with Monsieur de Vins, your Highness," said Pericard, who had been reading the letter while the Duke spoke, "'that trusting in the semblances of the King's love, you expose your life every hour as if it were neither a value to yourself or your friends or your country.'"
"You mistake, Pericard," replied the Duke; "I trust not in Henry's love at all. Whether it be feigned or whether it be real for the time, matters not a straw. If it be feigned, it does me no harm, but, on the contrary, daily gives me greater power; if it be true, I receive the benefits thereof for the time, well knowing that to-morrow or the next day it will change completely into hate. I'll tell you what it is I trust to, Pericard: not to the King's love, but to his good sense; for were I dead to-morrow he could be ten times worse than he is to day. I am he who stands between him and destruction!--Ah! who have we hear?" he continued, as the door again opened. "From Provence;"--and taking the letter from the hand of a dusty courier, he read it over attentively and threw it to Pericard, saying, "That is good news surely, Pericard! In the room of the two deputies who were so difficult to manage that we were obliged to stuff them with carp and truffles till they both fell sick and fled, we have got two steady Leaguers not to be shaken by threats or moved by choice meats. If we could dislodge that viper, Epernon, from Angoumois, all would be clear before us till we reached the confines of Henry of Navarre. But Epernon is raising troops, I hear----" he added, although he saw that some one had entered the room and was approaching him.
"Which he will soon disband. Monsieur de Guise," said the stranger, "as I am charged by the King to set out to-morrow morning to give the Duke his commands to that effect."
"By my life, Monsieur Miron," said the Duke, "you will have soon to lay aside altogether the exercise of your esculapean powers, at least upon his Majesty's person. You show yourself so skilful in healing the wounds of the state, and curing the sickness of the body politic."