The girl obeyed the orders she received, and then, by her mistress's direction, left her. The moment she was gone, however, Rose shook her head sadly, and burst into tears, exclaiming, "Alas, that they should thus fill me with suspicion! I am bought and sold like the goods of a market. No one comes near me that is not bribed or corrupted by some means. I have nowhere to turn for advice or sympathy or consolation. What is the meaning of all this? Am I to believe that it is poor Rose d'Albret, he seeks? No, no, he would take other means to win love, if love were all he wanted. But I will know, I will see into the bottom of his heart before I give him my hand.--Give him my hand? Oh God! to think that the day is coming so soon!--But I will have some better insight; and if they use such art with me, surely I may be excused for practising some with them."
Rose d'Albret leaned her head upon her hand, and thought long and bitterly; but her mind was now pursuing another course; the image of De Montigni had risen up before her. Nor would it be banished, though she was afraid to look upon it steadily. "He is very little changed," she said to herself; "I can trace all the features of the boy in the man. He has lost his gay, light-hearted laugh, however--his cheerful look that spread light around him. He has grown grave and stern. Can he have suffered? Disappointed love, perhaps, has done its sad work upon his heart. Oh, that I could comfort him!"
She thought again, and other images seemed to present themselves; for, after a moment's silent musing, she started up, crying "God forbid! God forbid! Ah! what would come of it, if it were so? Ruin, destruction, desolation to all perhaps!--Would I had resisted firmly from the first! Yet I have promised nothing. I have been but passive in the hands of others. I have heard my fate announced, and made no answer.--'Tis a vain fancy after all. He hardly spoke to me, looked cold and askance--perhaps he is offended--no not offended; grieved, mortified, disappointed, perhaps. Heaven! where are my fancies leading me? And yet I often thought when my eyes met his, that there was a look of tenderness, almost of pity in his face, mournful yet affectionate. Would that I knew what is passing in his heart! Yet what would it avail?--I know not.--It might perhaps avail to save us both from misery--or plunge us into greater. 'Tis useless to think of such things; I will leave fate to take its course, and shape my own as opportunity occurs. But I may at least strive to gain some knowledge of this man's character and objects; and, if I do assume a spirit different from my own to fathom the depth of his, surely it may be forgiven when the cause is so powerful. I fear--I much fear that I am wedding cold deceit, and treachery, and wretchedness. I will sooner die first--sooner resign all I have, hide me in a convent, if needs must be, and spend my life in prayer. But I will read his heart first. Perhaps I do him wrong. His motives may be generous and noble for aught I know; and yet I cannot but doubt it. If they were so, why such shrewd steps to surround me by those who do nought but praise him? There is a want of truth and nature in it, that brings suspicion whether I will or not. De Montigni's very coldness has more of love in it.--Poor De Montigni, what can have changed him so? I'll find some means of speaking to him, and, if I can, will give him consolation. He used to love me much when we were both young; and, if he have any deep grief at his heart, it will sooth and comfort him to hear words of sympathy from the lips of Rose d'Albret. I loved him, too, always; and I could love him still--if it were right."
But there she paused, and would not think how much she might love him. She was like a child who comes to the precipice's edge, peers over, and runs away in haste, lest he should see the full danger, and, with giddy brain, fall over.
"Hark," she continued, "there is Chazeul singing in the rooms below. I will put out the light, and hie to bed. He is like the night-raven that fancied himself a nightingale. But I can stop my ears;" and, undressing hastily, she retired to bed: but sleep was far from her; and, for many an hour, she lay revolving plans of what she would say and do on the morrow. Still, thoughts she was afraid of, would intrude; still, before she was aware of it, her fancy was busy with De Montigni; still her repugnance to the union with Chazeul grew more and more strong, and it was not till half the night was spent, that at length she closed her eyes in sleep. She heard Blanchette come late into the ante-room where the maid's bed was placed; she heard her breathe hard soon after, in the dull sleep of selfish content; she heard sound after sound in the château, indicating that all were seeking repose; and at length, when every other noise was still, the deep bell of the clock first striking one, then two. But the third hour did not find her senses waking.
It was daylight the next morning, though it was her habit to rise early, when her maid called her; and Rose at once perceived that there was a tale behind the meaning look on the girl's face. "Well, Blanchette," she said, "what is it? You have got something to tell. Speak it quickly, girl, I do not love to wait."
"Ah seigneur! Mademoiselle," replied the maid, "I have heard such high words just now in the hall between the Count, and Monsieur de Chazeul, and Monsieur de Montigni."
The colour fled from the cheek of Rose d'Albret; but she strove hard to ask in a calm and indifferent tone, what the dispute was about.
"That I cannot tell, Mademoiselle," replied the girl, who, like so many people in her station, only gathered sufficient information to alarm, but not enlighten; "All I know is, Monsieur de Liancourt looked very angry, and spoke very high, and the Marquis too; and Monsieur de Montigni replied coldly to my Lord, saying, 'I must hear that from her own lips, Sir, with no one present to restrain her.' But when Monsieur de Chazeul said something I did not hear, the Baron turned upon him like a lion, and answered 'Silence, Sir! or I shall forget you are my cousin. You have heard my answer. Be it as you like. I seek not the conference you seem so afraid to grant, but without it, I sign away no right that I possess;' and then the Marquis replied, with a scornful air, 'you are mistaken, Sir; I fear no conference between a lady who loves me and a boy like you. There is no great rivalry to dread. So, to keep peace in the house, you shall have this interview, and that right soon;' and then he turned round and came towards the door, behind which I stood, and so I came away."
"Hark!" cried Rose d'Albret, "there is some one knocking at the ante-chamber door, see who is there! Say I am not dressed, but will be so soon."