Mary of Burgundy; or, The Revolt of Ghent

by G. P. R. James

"Ere I go," he thought--"ere I go, I will see her myself; and assure myself of her feelings before I quit the city. Then, if I find that she hates him, as I believe, that she looks upon him as the wolf he really is, I will take sufficient means to guard her from his importunities during my absence."

The determination was no sooner formed than he prepared to execute it; and, while he despatched a messenger to the palace to demand an audience of the princess previous to his departure, which was fixed for the next day, he gave a multitude of necessary orders, and as soon as his horse was ready, set out himself to seek an interview, which the consciousness of having brought about the death of Mary's counsellors, and the banishment of her friends, made him dread even while he courted it.

But, as those who are young in deceit generally do, he forgot, for the time, that the dark secrets of his heart were confined to his own bosom; and that the policy he had pursued, and the bold ambition that prompted it, were unknown to her who had most suffered by it. In truth, the feelings of Mary were very different from those which he had anticipated. The broad and simple facts only reached her ear. She knew that the young citizen had taken no part in the trial or the judgment of Imbercourt, and that he had not even been present at his execution. The order for the immediate removal of the Duchess Dowager and Ravestein, also, had been issued in the name of the states: and perfectly unconscious of the wild hopes and ambitious dreams of Albert Maurice, she believed that if he had at all mingled in those proceedings, it was but most unwillingly, and from a strong, though mistaken impression of duty and patriotism. Deprived, too, of the counsellors in whom she had always most trusted, and of the friends whom she had most loved, the unhappy girl felt inclined to cling to any one who seemed disposed to treat her with kindness and tenderness; and the only one who remained was Albert Maurice. He had always been gentle; he had always seemed to advocate her interest; he had never asked her for gift, or honour, or dignity; and even his very animosity towards Imbercourt and the Chancellor, had first arisen in the support which he gave to the princess, in her reluctant struggles against the hard and painful policy her ministers had dictated. The dignity of his demeanour, the high qualities of his mind, the independence of his character, and the apparent disinterestedness of his conduct, had gained her esteem; and the respectful gentleness of his manners towards herself, as well as his constant and zealous advocacy of the line of policy dictated by her wishes as a woman, had won her gratitude and her confidence.

A gleam of pleasure brightened the gloom around her when she heard that he was coming; and, in order at once to attach him more strongly to her interests, to express her thanks for his supposed services, and to detach him totally from the burgher faction, whose influence had already worked so much evil, she directed one of the officers of the palace to draw up, immediately, letters of nobility in favour of the young citizen, and to bring them to her with all speed. Gentle by nature and by habit, the only arms which Mary ever employed against her rebellious subjects were favours and mildness, and she fondly fancied, that, in this step towards Albert Maurice, she had devised a deep stroke of policy. The secretary's task was almost completed when Albert Maurice arrived; and the evident pleasure with which Mary received him, in the midst of all her griefs, extinguished for the time remorse and apprehension in the blaze of hope and joy, and once more nerved him for the bold career of ambition in which he had started against such fearful odds.

The princess was pale and shaken with all the agitation, terror, and grief of the day before; but the light that shone up in her eyes, and the smile which played about her lips as he approached, made her appear a thousand times more lovely in the eyes of the young burgher than she would have seemed in all the pride of state, security, and happiness. In the unconscious simplicity of heart, too, all her words gave encouragement to feelings that she little dreamed of; and when, on the announcement of his approaching departure, she pressed him to stay, and to abandon his design; when she assured him that he was the only one she could now trust, since her faithful servants had been put to death and her kindred had been banished, and beseeched him not to leave her without a counsellor, or without a friend, Albert Maurice, knowing the passions that animated his own bosom, could not but hope that in some degree she saw them too; and, while habitual respect cast a deep reverence over all his words and actions, which served to deceive her as to his feelings, his love and his ambition caught a new fire from the confiding esteem she expressed towards him. He assured her that in six days he would be once more in Ghent; and he hoped, he said, to lay some laurels at her feet. In the meantime, he added, it might be necessary to think of her security against all intrusion.

"Oh, for the love of Heaven, provide for that!" exclaimed the princess; "I fear that base, that dreadful Duke of Gueldres. Even the shelter of my own apartments is no security against him; and his influence with the people, they tell me, is becoming fearfully great. Speak, Margaret," she added, turning to one of her attendants, "what was it you heard the people crying but now?"

"Fear not, your Grace," replied Albert Maurice, without waiting to hear from the princess's lady a repetition of words which had already made his blood boil. "The career of the Duke of Gueldres draws towards its end! If I judge rightly, his own ambition will be a stumbling-block sufficient to bring his speedy overthrow. But if not, sooner than you should suffer from insolent daring, he shall find that Albert Maurice does not wear a sword in vain."

"Oh, use it not against him, sir," replied the princess; "there may be other ways of ridding the city of his presence. Too much blood has been shed already. Nay, do not look sad, Lord President. I know that it was without your will. I know that you were not even present. But while you are absent from the city, if your absence be unavoidable, I beseech you to take measures to guard me against his intrusion. When you return," she added, with a deep crimson blush, which rose from feelings that would have damned all the young citizen's presumptuous hopes for ever, could he have divined them--"when you return, I would fain speak with you, on taking such measures for the defence of the state as may obtain for it permanent security. A woman's hand, I see, cannot hold the reins of such a land as that which I am unhappily called to govern; and it is time for me to yield them to some one who can better guide the state than I can. But more of this hereafter. We will not speak more now."

The heart of the young citizen throbbed as if it would have burst, but it throbbed with joy; and probably he might have replied, notwithstanding the prohibition of the princess, in such a manner as would have ended the delusion of both; but, at that moment, according to the orders he had received, the secretary of the chancery of Burgundy brought in the letters-patent, which he had been drawing up in haste.

The princess presented them to him for whom they were destined with her own hand, leaving him at liberty to make them public, or to preserve them unemployed till such time as he should think fit: and while she gave them, she added her thanks for his obedience to the wishes she had expressed when last they met. Though the subject was too painful for the princess even to mention the name of the two faithful servants she had lost, yet Albert Maurice felt that she alluded to her petitions in their behalf. For a single instant he thought she spoke in irony, and his cheek turned red and pale by turns; but a moment's reflection called to his mind the simple, candid character of her who spoke, and what she had before said on the same subject; and he saw that she deceived herself in regard to the part he had taken. There was a natural rectitude in his heart which might have made him, at any risk, avow boldly his approval of, if not his participation in, the bloodshed which had been committed--had the love of Mary of Burgundy not been at stake. But he who knew not what fear is, under other circumstances, had learned to become as timid as a child in her presence; and though, while kneeling to kiss her hand in thanks for the honour she had just conferred, his whole frame trembled both with the agitation of deep love, and the knowledge that he was acting a deceitful part, yet he found it impossible to utter those words which he well knew would have pronounced his own condemnation to the ears of Mary of Burgundy.