He who knows by frequent trial the fallibility of human judgment, and how often the best calculations are proved false by the unexpected turns of fate, judges as surely as he can by the light of reason, acts resolutely when his decision is formed, and leaves the rest to the will of God, thanking Him who alone gives success, if his efforts prove effectual, bowing, without self-condemnation, if disappointment follows. But the young cannot do this; for it is the invariable fault of youth to attribute too much to human powers. We only discover their feebleness when we have tried them; and this is one of the first lessons of earthly existence, the great school wherein we learn, or, at least, may acquire, the knowledge that fits us for a higher state of being. The world is a school, and we are but school-boys, and all that we obtain is destined for another scene.
The night which De Montigni first passed as a prisoner, was without repose, as it well might be. Had his busy thoughts permitted sleep to visit his eyelids during the first five hours of the night, the noises which rose up from below would have effectually banished the gentle guest; but those sounds were hardly heard by the captive, and, long after his servant had left him, he sat and mused; now reviewing the past; now forming airy schemes for the future, destroyed as soon as raised; now pondering over the bitter present with unavailing anger and regret. Shortly after daylight, he was up and dressed; and, when his servant again appeared, he sent him at once to the Duke of Nemours to know when he would fix his ransom, according to the custom of the day. The answer was cold and formal, "That Monsieur de Nemours would see the Baron de Montigni in the course of the morning, and would then inform him of his intentions."
This was all that the man had been able to obtain; and, for many another impatient hour, De Montigni paced his narrow chamber, giving way to every dark and painful imagination, till, at length, a step, different from that of the guard at the door, was heard without, about an hour after noon, and the voice of the Duke of Nemours was instantly recognized by the prisoner, telling the soldier he might retire to the room below.
They were words of good augury to the young nobleman, who mentally said, "He comes to name my ransom;" and the impression was farther confirmed by the cheerful and courteous countenance of the Duke, who entered the moment after, more with the air of an old acquaintance than a captor.
"Well, Monsieur de Montigni," he said, "how have you passed the night? By heaven, they have assigned you but a paltry lodging here. 'Tis none of my doings this. La Bourdasière should have known better."
"The lodging matters little, my Lord," answered De Montigni, "it is the imprisonment that is painful;" and, resolved to follow the determination he had formed the day before, and cast himself and Rose upon the generosity of the Duke, he added. "Nor is it my own captivity that is the most grievous to me. It is the imprisonment of the lady you found with me."
"But she is not a prisoner, Monsieur de Montigni," replied Nemours; "therein you have made a mistake."
"She is worse than a prisoner, my Lord Duke," said the young nobleman, "if you send her back to the Château of Marzay.--Nay, hear me out, my Lord. I have ever heard that the Duke of Nemours is the flower of the French nobility for chivalrous generosity. His name has reached me even in Italy, where I have so long sojourned, and if when I entered France I had been asked on whom I would soonest rely for aid and protection in any honourable enterprise, I should have answered, 'on Monsieur de Nemours.' Now, my Lord, I will tell you the plain truth regarding the situation of myself and Mademoiselle d'Albret, and if your own heart will suffer you to send her back to the captivity in which she is held at Marzay, I am much mistaken."
He then proceeded to relate the circumstances in which he had found Rose on his return from Italy; the arts that had been employed to deceive them both; and the recourse which they had had to flight as the only means of delivering the lady from the position in which they had placed her. Nemours listened with a varying countenance, but without any interruption. At one moment De Montigni thought he was touched; at another, a heavy frown came upon his brow; at another, a look of impatience passed over his face, as if he were tired of the tale; and when the young nobleman had ended, he replied in an indifferent tone--"All very lamentable, Monsieur de Montigni; but still, unless you were prepared to subscribe to the Holy Catholic Union, I should not be justified in retaining Mademoiselle d'Albret from her guardian. Even if you were, indeed, it would still be a consideration whether the long services of Monsieur de Chazeul would not require us to bestow the hand of the lady upon him, rather than upon a fresh and uncertain convert."
"What!" exclaimed De Montigni, hastily, "the contract with her father, her own inclination, and my undoubted right to count for nothing!"