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

by G. P. R. James

"Not I," answered the boy, seriously, and with a sigh; "not I, my lord!--I have a vow against it. Faith, I think that heretic Du Plessis Mornay has converted even me; and I hold, that for hundreds of honest men to shed each other's blood, for the sake of making their favourite sit in a great ivory chair, wear a gilt cap with a tassel, and call himself king, is not only a folly, but a madness, and not only a madness, but a crime. Be not offended, my lord," he added, seeing a slight cloud come over St. Real's brow, as he listened to doctrines very different from those which his own bold and chivalrous heart entertained; "be not offended, nor doubt me either; for you may well rest sure that, should danger threaten you, or misfortune overtake you, when I am your follower, this heart--though not so bold as a falcon's--would find courage for the time; this hand--though not so strong as a giant's--should do its best to defend or aid you."

"I believe you in that, at least, my good Leonard," replied St. Real; "yet, nevertheless, I have always held that life is valueless without honour, and that the drops of our heart's best blood can never be weighed against the service of our country, our king, or our friend. However, you are not my sworn soldier, so I shall not try you; and, to speak of matters whereon we shall better agree, tell me--for, amongst all your wanderings, you must have heard--how go men's opinions upon the events that are taking place here?"

"Opinions!" cried the youth. "They go, my lord, as the waves of the sea. Looked at from a distance, and at first sight, they seem innumerable, and all distinct one from the other; but when one examines a little more closely, they are found to be nothing but one great flow of the same things, following the first that comes forward and dashes upon the shore. I know not well what the word opinion used to mean in the days of old, but now, I know it means the portrait of every man's selfishness, painted as he likes it to appear. One man has a strong desire to be governor of Dijon, and he represents it under the form of a sincere admiration of the Catholic faith; another wishes to be made marechal of France, and he displays his wish under a full approbation of the murder of the Guises."

"It is wonderful," said St. Real, with a smile, "how soon, in the camp and in the court, the wisdom of the brow of sixty years finds its way down to the curly head of sixteen! Do you know, Leonard, I have just heard this morning from Monsieur de Sancy the same fine sarcastic character of the good folks around me that you have given me now?"

"Then you have heard the truth from two people in one day," replied the boy gravely. "It is worth marking with white chalk! and, though you think that I ape the sententiousness of wiser persons than myself, you will find, that one who has lived amongst these scenes from his earliest years knows the characters that appear in the mystery as well as one of themselves. At all events, my lord, hope not to find Spartan virtues even in your dearest friend; or, if he do possess such jewels as patriotism, and firmness, and integrity, happy--thrice and fully happy, is he in this place; for nothing is so saleable here as virtue and a tolerably good reputation."

"Spartan virtue in my dearest friend!" said St. Real, repeating the words on which the youth had laid the strongest emphasis. "What mean you by that, Leonard? Tell me, are you frank and honest? If so, you have some meaning! Now, make it a plain one!"

The boy coloured a good deal, and, for a moment, seemed struggling between two emotions; but at length he replied, "I am frank and honest, sir, and I will make my meaning plain, feeling sure that you will not let my candour hurt me. When I spoke as I did speak, I thought of your noble cousin; for it is the common report of camp and city, that a large dower, and a lady's unwilling hand, will soon convert the Count d'Aubin from a bold Royalist to a zealous Leaguer."

It was now St. Real's turn to feel troubled, and the blood irrepressibly mounted to his cheek. "I trust that the camp and the city are both mistaken," he replied, at length; "and that Philip d'Aubin, if he do change his party, which may, perchance, happen, will have nobler motives to assign than any selfish advantages. One thing, however, is certain, no lady's unwilling hand can be the object, for no man will or can force her inclination."

The boy shrugged his shoulders. "These are times, sir," he replied, "when men can do anything; but, nevertheless----"

Ere he could finish his sentence, the door of the little saloon in which he stood was thrown quickly open; and, as so often occurs, the very object of the conversation which had just passed appeared, and put an end to any farther observations. The boy, indeed, coloured deeply, and glided out of the room; but St. Real, whose consciousness of upright purpose and integrity of heart had restored his calmness and confidence in himself, turned to greet his cousin kindly, and prepared to speak with him upon the great events of the day, avoiding, as far as possible, those subjects which might renew any painful feelings between them. "I heard that you had gone to the Prés aux Clercs," he said, looking at his cousin's dusty garb; "but you are not armed, I see."