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

by G. P. R. James

He was silent then, and a few minutes more brought them back to St. Cloud, which exhibited all the usual marks of a small place in which some great event has happened. The eager faces; the gliding up and down of important-looking persons; the whispering groups at every corner, and at every house-door; the loud-tongued politicians, demonstrating to their little assemblage of hearers the events that were to follow, or the events that were past; and here and there the mercenary soldier, sauntering indifferently through the streets, and caring not who died, or who survived, provided that his pay was sure, and that the blessed trade of war was not brought to an untimely end.

Monsieur de Sancy and St. Real drew up their horses at the first group of respectable persons they met with, and demanded news of the king. The reply was favourable: "the monarch was better," the people said; "the surgeons apprehended no evil; and the consequences of the crime had fallen upon the head of him who perpetrated it."

After receiving this answer, St. Real and De Sancy separated, each well pleased with the other, and promising mutually to meet again before night, whatever might be the result of the events which had brought them first together.

St. Real then directed his course up the road towards the small auberge, in which he had hired the only apartments that on his first arrival were to be found vacant in the village, and at which he had left a part of his attendants to prepare for his return. The door of the inn, like that of every other house in the place, was surrounded by its own little group, discussing the events of the time; and as St. Real approached, he distinguished amongst the crowd his dwarf page Bartholo, together with the handsome Italian boy, who had been left in his service by Henry of Navarre. The young marquis--whose mind was not of that indifferent cast which looks with philosophical coolness upon the dangers or discomforts of every person except its own particular proprietor--had been not a little anxious for the fate of the fair delicate youth amidst the troubles and perils of the capital and its environs, and was in no slight degree rejoiced to see him in safety in a spot where he could afford him protection.

Leonard de Monte sprang forward as soon as he beheld his lord, and welcomed him on his arrival, with all that peculiar grace which we have before had occasion to notice in his demeanour. There was something in his manner that expressed a willingness to serve and to obey; but, at the same time, it appeared to be the willingness of a free and generous mind to perform that which depended solely upon its own volition. There was a dignity withal in his tone and demeanour, that made his obedience seem a condescension rather than a duty; and yet, as we have said, it was all so cheerfully done, that St. Real, although he felt more as if he were speaking to a friend or a younger brother, than to one who was bound to obey, nevertheless did not feel the difference disagreeable, but rather looked with more interest upon a person whose demeanour was so superior to that of others in his station.

"I have had some fears for you, my good boy," said St. Real, "since I heard that you had come hither to seek me."

"Oh, never fear for me, sir!" replied the youth, speaking with that confidence in his own fortune, which is one of the many happy deceits whereby the human heart beguiles itself to forget the weariness, and the difficulties, and the dangers of the long and perilous path of life; "oh, never fear for me, sir! In my short day, I have passed through so many scenes, where others have found every sort of danger and tribulation, without receiving so much as a scratch of my hand, that I begin to believe myself enchanted against peril: besides, I had the two stout fellows you gave me to accompany me from Maine; and if I had met with any danger, I should have left them to fight it out, and have slipped away, finding safety under cover of my littleness."

"Well, well, we must not try your fortune too far, my good Leonard," replied the young noble. "But come hither with me, Bartholo, seek me wherewithal to write; and bid Martin and Paul hold themselves ready to set out in half an hour to Senlis. Have you seen the Count d'Aubin?"

"I saw him not half an hour ago," replied Leonard de Monte, ere the dwarf could answer. "He was riding forth with a gay company to the Pré aux Clercs."

"That is unfortunate!" observed St. Real; "I would fain have spoken with him. But hark! there is the drum beating to arms, and the clarions sounding a march! See what that may mean, Leonard."