The news which had been brought by Paul Verdun, and the certainty that, at the time of his departure from the Burgundian camp, no battle had been fought, spread rapidly amongst the citizens, and was received by every different individual with different feelings, as he was well or ill affected to the reigning family. The certainty, however, that an immediate struggle was about to take place between Charles the Bold and his determined and hitherto successful adversaries, the Swiss, of course kept the minds of the people of the city in a state of agitation and excitement; a state the most detrimental, morally and physically, that it is possible to conceive for any town or any people. Business was neglected, if not suspended; political gossipings supplied the room of activity and industry; anxiety, suspicion, and irritation took the place of calm labour and tranquil enjoyment; the slightest piece of news, whether false or true, was sought and received as a boon; the wildest tale found some to believe it; and a small lie, by the industrious augmentation of many, soon swelled into a mountain of falsehood.
Towards evening the Princess Mary arrived at the palace; and while the good people of Ghent proceeded to distort amongst themselves the news of her return in every different way that suited their fancies--some saying that she had come back with only a single squire, some that she had brought with her a force of a thousand men-at-arms--that fair girl herself, after dismounting in the court-yard, together with exactly the same train which had accompanied her during the whole course of her progress, ran lightly up the wide flight of steps which conducted to the apartments of her amiable step-dame, and in a moment after was in the arms of Margaret of York.
"Bless thee, my sweet child! bless thee!" said the fair Englishwoman, pressing her husband's daughter to her bosom; "thou art come to comfort me; for I am very sad, and my heart is full of forebodings."
"Nay, nay, madam, never fear," replied the princess; "you are sad and anxious because you know my lord and father is likely to risk a battle, and I, of course, am anxious too; but still we must not despond. Remember, madam, how often he has fought and conquered."
"It is not for the battle that I fear," replied Margaret of York; "my early days, and my early recollections, have been, and are, of nothing but stricken fields, and battles lost and won; and the tidings of approaching strife would give me no apprehensions, did not those who are on the spot breathe doubts and suspicions which have sadly shaken my hopes, dear Mary. In a word, with the duke's letters, received last night, came a despatch to the good Lord of Imbercourt from the Count de Chimay. He speaks vaguely and doubtingly; but he evidently apprehends treason, and as evidently points to Campo Basso as the traitor--your father's most trusted and favourite servant."
"I would fain see the letters," replied the princess: "may I beseech you, madam, to let the Lord of Imbercourt be sent for?"
The desire of the princess was immediately obeyed; and in a short time, Imbercourt returned to the palace. His words were few, and tended merely to express his congratulations on the princess's safe return, without touching upon the fears which had been more openly spoken by the Duchess of Burgundy. There was, however, a degree of settled gloom upon his countenance, and a restless anxiety in his eye, which showed that his apprehensions were perhaps greater even than her own. He immediately laid before the Princess Mary the letters which he had received the night before, and which, as far as positive fact went, merely stated that the Burgundian army, in great force, lay in a strong position beneath the walls of Nancy; that a small army of Swiss and Germans were encamped opposite to them, and that a battle was likely soon to take place. The duke's letter was short and general; that of the Count de Chimay was more particular; and Mary read over both with deep and eager attention.
"There is much matter for fear," she said, as she laid them down, "in both these despatches. May God defend us, and avert the dangers that threaten!"
"That there is much to raise apprehension in the letter of Monsieur de Chimay, I acknowledge, madam," replied the Lord of Imbercourt; "but I see nothing in that of our noble sovereign the duke which should give us any alarm."
Mary raised her eyes with a timid glance towards the face of Margaret of York, as if fearful of causing her pain, or of increasing her alarm. But the Duchess instantly perceived her hesitation, and exclaimed: "Speak, speak, dear Mary! let us not have a thought concealed from each other."