Rose D'Albret; or, Troublous Times.

by G. P. R. James

"I do!" replied Estoc; "though I know not what you are afraid I should interfere with. But as I come here for a fixed purpose, when that is accomplished, I will go."

"Well, then, march on!" said the Count; "and we, as mourners for my brother, will bring up the rear."

The order was accordingly given, and the funeral train was once more put in motion. The party of the Count, with the exception of father Walter, who remained in front, paused till the rest had passed, and then fell in behind; but, on a word from Monsieur de Liancourt, one of his attendants quitted the line, and at a quick pace sped up the hill to the spot where the coach, containing poor Rose d'Albret, was still standing. Had Estoc been aware of whom that vehicle contained, it might have changed the fate of many an after day; but as yet he had not perceived it at all; and following the corpse of his old leader with a slow and heavy step, while a thousand memories of other days, associated with the very building he was now entering, pressed sadly on his mind, he ascended the slope with his eyes bent down upon the ground, till the body passed the low arch of the gate, and he found himself in the outer court, so long familiar to his footsteps.

The priest, in the meantime, sped on into the chapel, in order to receive the body with the usual ceremonies; and, dismounting from their horses, the soldiers who had followed the old commander to the field of Ivry, soon thronged the space before the altar, with their armed forms falling into fine but sombre groups, as the last faint rays of the setting sun streamed through the stained glass window on the western side, and cast their long shadows across the floor, covered with many a monumental stone and inscription. The Count de Liancourt and Chazeul stood behind, with their followers and attendants; and even when the ceremony was over, they lingered still, as if to see the old soldier and his comrades quit the chapel.

Estoc looked round more than once in the hope that they were gone. Perhaps he wished to give way to the feelings of sorrow and regret that were strong in his heart, without the presence of colder witnesses. Perhaps he wished to have some private conversation with the priest before he departed. But the Count and his companions remained where they were; and finding that they had no intention of retiring, he at length turned to the priest, saying, "Monsieur de la Tremblade, I have now to ask you, on behalf of him who is gone, first, to say one hundred masses for the repose of his soul."

The priest bowed his head, replying, "It shall be done right willingly, my son."

And Estoc proceeded, "Secondly, to keep vigil this night and to-morrow by the body, till the hour of matins."

"It is unusual, my son," answered the priest, "except in the case of very high personages; but still, as you require it, it shall be done."

"I beseech you in charity to do so, father," replied Estoc: "and I know that which you promise you will accomplish."

"Without fail," answered father Walter, and Estoc, turning from the chapel led his men back into the court. The first object his eyes fell upon was a carriage, apparently just arrived and surrounded by several armed men, bearing the green scarfs of the League. The door of the coach was open, and a lady in the act of alighting; and the next moment Rose d'Albret held out her hands to the old soldier, exclaiming, "Ah! good Estoc!"