One in a Thousand; or, The Days of Henri Quatre

by G. P. R. James

"Most warlike and joyful news, by a most peaceful messenger!" exclaimed Mayenne. "Spain sends us a thousand men, Aumale, within three days! Most joyful news, indeed! and not the less acceptable from being conveyed to us by a minister of our holy religion."

"Glad am I to hear you say so, my noble and princely son," answered the priest; "for his Highness of Parma, when he over persuaded me to quit my little flock at Houdaincourt, because he fancied a cassoc would pass more safely with the tidings than a buff belt, did mention something about a vacant stall in the cathedral church of Cambray, and the great love and reverence of our father, the Bishop, for your Highness, and all your illustrious family."

"Well, well, your good service, father, in the cause of the faith shall not go without reward," replied Mayenne; "but you are just come in time to do us another good service. Have you any objection to read the marriage service here, and win a rich benefice for your pains?"

Eugenie had heard everything that passed, as if in a troubled dream; and when the Chevalier d'Aumale had related the arrest of the confessor, a momentary hope of reprieve had crossed her mind. The last words of Mayenne, however, and the ready assent of the priest, instantly extinguished it. The next moment it revived again, as she heard the somewhat strangely chosen missive of the Prince of Parma observe, "But the lady seems to be weeping! what is the cause of that?" and a vague purpose of beseeching him not to join in the oppression which was exercised towards her entered her thoughts. Ere she could execute such a design, however, Mayenne, in a low voice, directed the Count d'Aubin to take the priest out of the room, and explain to him, as he thought best, the circumstances of the case, promising him what reward he judged right to stop all troublesome inquiries.

As the door opened and closed, Eugenie looked fearfully around; and feeling that the last hope of moving any one to pity lay in the temporary absence of him whom she regarded as her most determined persecutor, she rose, intending to cast herself at the knees of Mayenne, and to beseech him, by all that was noble and chivalrous in his nature, to become her protector against the violence of others, rather than to join in oppressing her himself. During the last two days, however, she had undergone more mental suffering than her corporeal frame could endure. The efforts of the last few minutes had poured the drops of overflowing into the cup; and though by great exertion she staggered to the spot, where Mayenne remained standing, after speaking to the Count d'Aubin, she could not utter a word, but fell fainting at his feet. At the same moment D'Aubin returned; and there was a slight interval of confusion and uncertainty, some calling for water and essences, some proposing to bear her to her own apartment. But D'Aubin interfered. "Let us seize the present moment," he said, "to carry her to the chapel, where we can find means of restoring animation. One great difficulty will then be got over, and we can proceed with the ceremony at once."

"I have often heard," said Madame de Montpensier, "that yours is a determined nature, Monsieur d'Aubin, but I did not know how determined till to-night."

Without noticing the sneer by any reply, D'Aubin raised the senseless form of Eugenie de Menancourt in his arms, and followed by the rest, bore her down one flight of stairs to the chapel, which, as usual in many of the principal hotels of Paris at that time, was attached to the dwelling, and independent of the parochial clergy. During his short absence, the Count had taken care that his own followers and those of Mayenne should clear that part of the house of the attendants of the unhappy object of his persecution, so that, by the way, he met with neither opposition nor inquiry. The chapel was reached, and all was found prepared, with the priest standing at the altar.

The situation of Eugenie instantly called his attention, however, and he exclaimed, "I cannot go on till the lady has recovered."

"Nobody wishes you, sir priest," exclaimed D'Aubin, sharply. "Some one bring water; quick!"

This command was rendered unnecessary, however; for by this time Eugenie was beginning to regain that miserable consciousness of the evils that surrounded her, from which even temporary insensibility had been a relief. Madame de Montpensier raised her head; Mayenne, in broken and scarcely intelligible terms, endeavoured to speak a few words of comfort; and, being lifted up before the altar, the vain ceremony of her marriage with the Count d'Aubin was begun by the priest, in hurried and not very distinct tones.