Mary of Burgundy; or, The Revolt of Ghent

by G. P. R. James

"I am very sorry for it, then," answered Mary of Burgundy; "for the matter on which I desired to see you, sir, would be much better transacted with men and statesmen than with a weak women like myself."

"Your pardon, madam!" exclaimed Albert Maurice. "If what you would say refers to the city of Ghent and its present state, much more may be done by your own commands, expressed personally to myself, than by an oration of the wisest minister that ever yet was born. Statesmen, madam, are often too cold, too prudent, too cautious, to deal with the frank multitude, whose actions are all passion, and whose motives are all impulse. But, oh! madam, there is a natural, generous, gentle feeling about all your demeanour, from your lightest word to your most important deed, which is well calculated to make our hearts serve you, as well as our heads or our hands."

The young burgher spoke with a fervour and an enthusiasm that called the blood up for a moment into Mary's cheek. But as the chivalrous courtesy of the day often prompted expressions of much more romantic admiration, without the slightest further meaning than mere ordinary civility, Mary of Burgundy saw nothing in the conduct of the young citizen beyond dutiful and loyal affection. The possibility of her having raised a deeper or more tender feeling in the bosom of her subject never once crossed her thoughts. It was to her as a thing impossible; and, though she certainly felt gratified by the fervent tone of loyalty in which Albert Maurice expressed himself, she dreamed not for a moment that that loyalty could ever become a warmer feeling in his breast.

"I trust, sir," she replied, "ever to merit the opinion you have expressed, and to keep the love of my good people of Ghent, as well as that of all my subjects. But, indeed, the conduct that they are now pursuing evinces but small regard either for my feelings or my interest, nor much gratitude for the first willing concession that I have made in their favour. You say, sir, you know little that has passed in the city since an early hour, listen, then to the tidings that have reached me."

Mary then recapitulated all that she had heard concerning the tumults in different parts of the city; and a conversation of considerable length ensued, which--from all the important and interesting circumstances discussed, from the free and unceremonious communication which it rendered necessary, and from the continual bursts of high and generous sentiments, upon both parts, to which the great events they spoke of gave rise--brought all the feelings of the young citizen within the circle of the one deep, overpowering passion which had been long growing up in his bosom. If he came there doubting whether he loved Mary of Burgundy, before he left her presence his only doubt was, whether there was anything else on earth worth living for but the love he felt towards her.

Such thoughts had their natural effect both on his appearance and demeanour. He still maintained that tone of deep respect due from a subject to his sovereign; but there was a free grace in all his movements, a brilliant energy in all he said, a spirit of gentle, chivalrous loyalty in all his professions, inspired by the great excitement under which he spoke, that raised the wonder and admiration of Mary herself, though still no one dream of bolder aspirations ever crossed her imagination.

The chamber in which this conference was held was turned towards the river, rather than to the square before the palace; and the shouts which had made themselves loudly audible in the apartments from which Mary had just come, had hitherto been less distinctly heard where she now stood. But, in a moment after, the multitudes which had assembled in other places seemed directing their course over a bridge that lay a little higher up the stream; and the sounds came with redoubled force. Shouts, cries, and songs of every kind were borne along with the wind, to the chamber in which the princess was standing; and, pointing to the casement, she bade the young citizen open it, and hearken to what was passing without.

Albert Maurice did so, and, in listening, his cheek became alternately pale and red; his brow knitted, and his eye flashed; and, turning to the princess, he replied, "I know not, madam, what they have done, or what they are about to do, but certainly some sort of insanity seems to have seized upon the people. However, I will this instant go forth, and, as I live, if they have committed the crimes of which I am led to fear they are guilty, from some of the cries I have just heard, the perpetrators shall meet the punishment they deserve."

He turned towards the door as he spoke, but Mary desired him to pause. "Stay, stay, sir, a moment," she said: "Alice, bid the page see that the way is clear."

The young lady opened the door, and whispered a few words to the boy, who waited in the passage beyond, and who instantly proceeded to ascertain that no change had taken place to obstruct the burgher's egress from the palace. Scarcely was he gone on this errand, however, when a pale reddish glare began to pour through the open window, waxing stronger each moment; and Mary, whose face was half turned towards it, started forward, exclaiming, "Look, look! Good Heaven, they have set fire to the city!"