“With high treason!” exclaimed the Queen.—“With high treason!” echoed Pauline, clinging still closer to De Blenau’s arm, which she held encircled by both her own.
“He is charged with high treason,” repeated the Officer; “and I must fulfil my duty.”
“Were he charged with all the crimes which disgrace humanity,” replied the Bishop, “here he is sanctuarized; and I command you, on pain of excommunication—you, Sir Officer, and your soldiers, to quit the church. I stand not here to see this altar violated, whatever be your authority.”
The Officer paused a moment, uncertain how to act. “Well, holy Father,” replied he at length, “I obey; but I shall take especial care to guard every door of the church; so that if there be any blame, it does not fall on me.” And muttering between his teeth the discontent he did not dare to vent aloud, he slowly withdrew his men.
The eye of Anne of Austria watched them intently till the last soldier had passed through the door which communicated with the Palace. Then turning quickly to the Count, she exclaimed, “Fly quick, De Blenau, up that staircase, cross the jube, through the monks’ gallery round the choir. You will find a door on the right that leads into the King’s cabinet. Wait there till I send—Quick, fly—I desire—I command you.”
“Oh fly, Claude, fly!” reiterated Pauline, “they will murder you surely this time, if you do not fly.”
“Pardon me, your Majesty—pardon me, dear Pauline,” replied De Blenau; “it cannot be. There is no man in France more innocent, in deed, word, or even thought, of treason against his King and Country than I am; and Claude de Blenau flies from no one, so long as his honour and integrity remain by him: when these fail, then he may become a coward. But to these will I now trust, and instantly surrender myself to his Majesty’s warrant. I did not interfere while Monseigneur defended the rights of the sanctuary, for he did but the duties of his high office; nor indeed was I willing to yield my sword to a servant of Cardinal Richelieu. Take it, Henry,” he continued, unbuckling it from his side, and giving it to the Page; “take it, and keep it for your master.”
“De Blenau, you are an obstinate man,” said the Queen. “I will urge nothing; but look at this pale cheek, and fancy what the feelings of that sweet girl must be.” And she pointed to Pauline who stood by with the tears chasing each other down her face.
Notwithstanding the firmness with which he spoke, there had been many a bitter pang struggling in De Blenau’s breast. The appeal of the Queen, and the sight of Pauline’s distress, overcame his calmness; and starting forward, he caught her in his arms and pressed an ardent kiss upon her lips. “Dear, dear Pauline,” he exclaimed, “all will go well, be assured. My innocence will protect me.”
Pauline shook her head mournfully, but her heart was too full to reply.