THE LIBRARY OP THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA AT CHAPEL HILL ENDOWED BY THE DIALECTIC AND PHILANTHROPIC SOCIETIES r HISTORICAL ROMANCES. THE TWO DIANAS. Vol. II. Digitized by the Internel : Arch ive in 2014 https://archive.org/details/twodianas02duma THE TWO DIANAS. BY ALEXANDRE DUMAS. IN THREE VOLUMES. Vol. II. LONDON: J. M. DENT & CO. BOSTON- LITTLE, BROWN, & CO. University Press: John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U. S. A. CONTENTS. Chapter Page I. In which Divers Occurrences artfully fall OUT TOGETHER 1 II. How Arnauld du Thill caused Arnauld du Thill to be hanged at Noyon ... 12 III. Arnauld du Thill's Bucolic Dreams ... 30 IV. ^The Arms of Pierre Peuquoy, the Ropes of Jean Peuquoy, and the Tears of Ba- bette Peuquoy 44 V. Sequel to the Misfortunes of Martin- Guerre 58 VI. In which Martin-Guerre's Character be- gins to be Rehabilitated 69 VII. A Philosopher and a Soldier 78 VIII. Wherein Mary Stuart's Loveliness flits across the Course of the Story with as . Transient a Gleam as it casts upon the History of France 92 *3 IX. The Other Diane 100 q X. A Grand Scheme for a Great Man . . . 108 XI. Glimpses at Divers Men of the Sword . . 116 •» XIT. The Cleverness of Stupidity 131 vi CONTENTS. Chapter Page XIII. December 31, 1557 140 XIV. During the Bombardment 151 XV. Within the Tent . . . . . 161 XVI. Small Craft sometimes save Large Men- oe-War 173 XVII. Obscuri sola sub Nocte 186 XVIII. Between Two Chasms 194 XIX. Arnauld du Thill, though Absent, con- tinues TO EXERT A FATAL INFLUENCE ON the Destiny oe Poor Martin- Guerre 201 XX. Lord Wentworth at Bay 211 XXI. Love disdained 221 XXII. Love requited 231 XXIII. Le Balaere 241 XXIV. Partial Denouement 253 XXV. Happy Omens 266 XXVI. A Quatrain 282 XXVII. The Vicomte de Montgommery . " . . . 296 XXVIII. Joy and Anguish 307 XXIX. Precautionary Measures ...... 314 XXX. The Secret Prisoner 321 XXXI. The Comte de Montgommery 327 XXXII. The Knight-Errant 336 XXXI1L In which Arnauld du Thill appears once more 348 XXXIV. Justice in a Quandary 357 THE TWO DIANAS. CHAPTER I. IN WHICH DIVERS OCCURRENCES ARTFULLY FALL OUT TOGETHER. Three weeks had elapsed. The last days of September were at hand ; and no change of moment had taken place in the respective situations of the different characters represented in this tale. Jean Peuquoy had paid to Lord Wentworth the trifling sum at which he had shrewdly had his ransom fixed. More than that, he had obtained leave to settle at Calais. We ought to say, however, that he seemed to be in no haste to commence operations. He seemed to be of a very inquisitive and yet careless disposition ; in fact, the honest burgher might be seen from morning till night sauntering about on the walls, and talking with the soldiers of the garrison, while apparently thinking no more about the weaver's trade than if he were an abbe or a monk. Nevertheless, he had either not tried or not been able to induce his cousin Pierre to be his companion in this life of idleness; and the skilful armorer had never turned out more or more finely executed work. Gabriel's melancholy increased from day to day. He received nothing but general news from Paris. France vol. it. — 1 2 THE TWO DIANAS. was beginning to breathe again. The Spaniards and English had wasted too much precious time in besieging and reducing places of no importance ; thus the country had had an opportunity to recover its balance, and it seemed as if both France and the king would be saved. This news, to which the heroic defence of St. Quentin had had no small share in imparting such a favorable character, no doubt was cheering to Gabriel ; yet he heard not a word of Henri II., of Coligny, of his father, or of Diane ! That reflection cast a shadow upon his brow and made it impossible for him to respond, as he might have done at another time, to Lord Wentworth's friendly overtures. The easy-going and unreserved governor seemed really to have taken a great liking to his prisoner. His ennui, and a little feeling of chagrin daring the last few days, had no doubt had their share in arousing this feeling. The society of a young and clever gentleman of the French court was an invaluable distraction in stupid Calais. Thus it was that Lord Went worth never allowed two days in succession to go by without calling upon Yicomte d'Exmes, and insisted upon his dining with him three times a week at his own table. This excessive affection was rather oppressive to Gabriel, all things considered; for the governor laughingly swore that he would not release his hold upon his captive till the last extremity ; that he would never consent to let him go on parole ; and that until the last crown of Gabriel's ransom should be well and truly paid, he would not yield to the cruel necessity of parting from so dear a friend. After all, this might well be only a refined and courtly way of expressing suspicion of him, so Gabriel did not dare to persist in his excuses ; besides, his delicacy led him to suffer uncomplainingly while awaiting the con- DTVERS OCCURRENCES. 3 valescence of his squire, who, it will be remembered, was to go to Paris to procure the sum of money agreed upon as the price of Vicomte d'Exmes's liberty. Eut Marti n-Guerre — we should say, his substitute Ar- uauld du Thill — was very deliberate in his convalescence. After a few days, the surgeon who had been called to look after the wound, which the scamp had sustained in a scuffle, had ceased to visit him, announcing that his task was done, and his patient entirely restored to health. A day or two of rest, and the excellent nursing of pretty Babette, Pierre's sister, would be quite sufficient to com- plete the cure, if indeed it were not already completed. Upon receiving that assurance, Gabriel had informed his squire that he must start for Paris on the next day but one without fail \ but when the morning of that day arrived, Arnauld complained of dizziness and faintness, which made him likely to fall if he took but a few steps without Babette's accustomed support. Thereupon two days' more of delay were asked and granted. At the end of that time a sort of general debility caused poor Arnauld's arms and legs to become perfectly useless ; and this new symptom, w T hich was caused doubtless (so he said) by the excessive pain he had suffered, had to be treated with hot baths and a very rigid diet. But this last regimen gave rise to such utter weakness that more delay was considered indispensable, to give the faithful fel- low time to build himself up once more with tonics and generous draughts of wine. At least his nurse Babette de- clared to Gabriel, with tears in her eyes, that if he required Martin-Guerre to set out at once, he would expose him to the danger of dying of inanition on the road. This extraordinary convalescence was thus prolonged to much greater length than the illness itself, in spite of the tender care of Babette, — a malicious person might say, 4 THE TWO DIANAS. thanks to that same tender care, — until two weeks had elapsed since the surgeon had pronounced him cured, and it was nearly a month since Gabriel's arrival at Calais. This could not be allowed to go on forever. Gabriel finally lost his patience; and even Arnauld du Thill, who at first had sought and found all manner of expedients with the best grace in the world, now announced, with a very self-sufficient and triumphant air, to poor broken- hearted Babette, that he could not afford to make his master angry, and that, after all, his best course would be to start at once so that he might the sooner return ; but Babette's red e} T es and downcast look proved that she hardly understood that kind of reasoning. The evening before the day when, according to his formal announcement, Arnauld proposed finally to take his departure for Paris, Gabriel took supper with Lord Wentworth. The governor seemed to have even more melancholy than usual to shake off, for he carried his gayety almost to the point of madness. When he left Gabriel after escorting him to the court- yard, lighted at that hour only by a lamp which was already flickering, the young man, just as he was w T rap- ping himself in his cloak before going out, saw one of the doors opening into the courtyard partly ajar. A woman, whom Gabriel recognized as one of those employed in the house, glided up to him, with a finger on her lips, and holding a paper toward him with the other hand, said in a low voice, — " For the French gentleman whom Lord Wentworth entertains so often." She handed him the folded paper ; and before Gabriel had recovered sufficiently from his stupefaction to ques- tion her, she was already gone. DIVERS OCCURRENCES. 5 The youth, in his perplexity, being naturally of an in- quiring mind, and perhaps a little rash, reflected that he had a quarter of an hour's walk to take in the dark be- fore he would be able to read the note at his ease in his own room ; and that seemed a long while to w 7 ait for the key to a riddle which piqued his curiosity. So without more ado he determined to ascertain at once if anything was required of him. He looked about, and seeing that he was quite alone, drew near the smoking lamp, unfolded the note, and read, not altogether unmoved, the following words : — " Monsieur, I do not know you, nor have I ever seen you; but one of the women who wait upon me tells me that you are a Frenchman, and are, as I am, a prisoner. This gives me courage to appeal to you in my distress. You are doubtless held for ransom. You will probably soon return to Paris. You can see there my friends, who have no idea what has be- come of me. You might tell them where I am; that Lord Wentworth is holding me a prisoner without allowing me to communicate with a living, soul, and refusing to name any price for my liberty; and that, shamefully abusing the cruel privilege which my unfortunate position gives him, he has the effrontery every clay to speak to me of a passion which I re- pulse with horror, but which my very scorn and his certainty of impunity may excite to the use of force. A gentleman, and above all, a fellow-countryman, will surely come to my aid in this wretched extremity ; but I still have to tell you who I am for whom — " The letter came to an end there, and was unsigned. Some unexpected interruption or sudden accident had probably caused her to break off thus abruptly, and yet she had chosen to send the letter, even though it were unfinished, so that she might not lose any precious op- portunity, and because, although not complete, it still (5 THE TWO DIANAS. said everything that she wished to say except the name of the lady who was being subjected to such odious restraint. That name Gabriel did not know, nor could he recog- nize the trembling, hurried handwriting ; and yet a strange feeling of anxiety, an extraordinary presentiment, crept into his heart. Pale with emotion, he drew near the lamp again to read the letter once more, when another door behind him opened, and Lord Wentworth himself came out, preceded by a little page, and crossed the court- yard on his way to his sleeping apartment. As he recognized Gabriel, to whom he had said good- night some time before, the governor stayed his steps in surprise. " Are you still here, my friend 1 " he said, approaching him with his customary friendly manner. " What has detained you ] Xo mishap, I trust, or sudden illness 1" The straightforward young man, without replying, simply held out to Lord Wentworth the letter that had been handed him. The Englishman cast his eye upon it, and became even paler than Gabriel ; but he succeeded in maintaining his presence of mind, and while pretending to read it, was really making up his mind how to deal with the matter. " What an old fool she is ! " said he, crumpling the letter in his hand and throwing it on the floor in well- feigned contempt. Xo words could have served to throw Gabriel off the scent more quickly or completely, for he was continually absorbed in his own thoughts, and had already begun to lose interest in the unknown. However, he did not abandon his suspicions at once, but responded rather evasively, — " You don't tell me who this prisoner is whom you are detaining here against her will, my Lord 1 " DIVERS OCCURRENCES. 7 " Against her will, indeed!" said Wentworth, in a perfectly unembarrassed tone. " It is a kinswoman of my wife, — a little crack-brained, if any one ever was, — whom her family wished to send away from England, and who has, much to my disgust, been put in my charge in this place, where it is easier to keep an eye on lunatics as well as on prisoners. However, since you have pene- trated this family secret, my dear fellow, I think I might as well tell you the whole story on the spot. The par- ticular mania of Lady Howe, who has read too many of the poems of chivalry, is to imagine, despite her fifty years and her gray hairs, that she is an oppressed and persecuted heroine ; and she tries to interest in her behalf, by fables with more or less foundation in fact, every good-looking young cavalier who comes within her reach. Upon my soul, Gabriel, it seems to me as if my old aunt's romancing has enlisted your sympathy for her. Come-! confess that her billet-doux did cause you a little anxiety, my poor fellow % " " It 's a strange story that you tell me, my Lord, you must agree," said Gabriel, coldly ; " you have never spoken to me of your kinswoman that I remember." " No, to be sure I have not," rejoined Lord Went- worth ; " for one does not ordinarily care to admit strangers into one's confidence as to private family matters." " But how does she come to say that she is French 1 " asked Gabriel. " Oh, to arouse your interest more successfully, in all probability," was Wenfrworth's reply, with a smile which began to be rather forced. " And this passion which she claims that you inflict upon her, my Lord 1 " " The delusion of an old woman who mistakes ancient 8 THE TWO DIANAS. memories for new hopes," rejoined Wentworth, who was beginning to grow restive. " Is it to avoid being laughed at, my Lord, that you keep her out of everybody's sight]" " Ah, how many questions you ask ! " exclaimed Lord Wentworth, frowning darkly, but still without any out- burst. "I had no idea you were of such an inquiring mind, Gabriel. But it's quarter to nine, and I have your agreement to be in your own quarters before the curfew sounds ; for your freedom as a prisoner on parole does not extend so far as to allow r any infringement of the police regulations of Calais. If Lady Howe interests you so deeply, we can return to the subject to-morrow. Meanwhile, I beg you will say nothing about these deli- cate family matters ; and I have the honor to wish you good-evening, Monsieur le Vicomte." Thereupon the governor saluted Gabriel, and re-entered the house. He desired to retain his self-control to the end, and feared that he might become too much excited if the conversation were to continue. Gabriel, after a moment's hesitation and thought, left the governor's mansion to return to the humble abode of the armorer. But Lord Wentworth had not remained so entirely master of himself to the last as to do away with all suspicion in Gabriel's heart ; and the young man's doubts, which were added to by his secret instinct, assailed him anew on his way through the streets. He determined to say nothing more on the subject to Lord Wentworth, who was not likely to give him any information, but to watch and make inquiries, and to find out if he could whether the fair unknown was really a country woman of his own, and the English- man's prisoner. " But, mon, Dieu! even if that is proved to demonstra- DIVERS OCCURRENCES. 9 tion," thought Gabriel, " what can I do then % Am I not myself a prisoner here 1 Are not my hands bound, and has not Lord Went worth a perfect right to call upon me for my sword, which I wear only by his favor and at his pleasure 1 There must be an end to this state of things ; and I must be able to have matters on a different footing, in case of need. Martin-Guerre must absolutely and without, more trifling be off to-morrow. I will tell him so myself this very evening." So when the door had been opened to Gabriel by one of Pierre Peuquoy's apprentices, he went up to the second floor, instead of stopping, as he generally did, at his own room on the first floor. Probably everybody in the house was asleep at that hour, Martin-Guerre no doubt like the others. ,If so, Gabriel concluded to awaken him and make known to him his firm determination. He noiselessly approached the room occupied by his squire, so that he might disturb nobody's slumbers. The key was in the outer door, which Gabriel softly opened ; but the inner door was closed, and Gabriel could hear through the partition bursts of laughter and the clinking of glasses. Thereupon he knocked with some force, and announced himself in an imperious voice. The noise ceased abruptly ; and as Gabriel only called the louder, Arnauld du Thill hurriedly opened the door to his master. In fact, he made too much haste, and failed to allow sufficient time for a fluttering dress, which was vanishing through an opposite door, to disappear com- pletely before Gabriel came in. He took it to be some little love-making with the house- maid ; and as he was not very prudish in his ideas, he could not refrain from smiling as he reprimanded his squire. " Aha, Martin," said he, " I think you must be much better than you pretend ! A table all set, three bottles, 10 THE TWO DIANAS, and two covers ! I seem to have frightened away your companion at the banquet. Never mind ! I have seen now very decisive proofs of your recovery, aud T am more than ever free from hesitation about ordering you to s t art t o-m o rro w . " ' " That was my intention, you know. Monseigneur," said Arnauld, rather abashed : K and I was just saying my adieus — " "To a friend? Oh. yes! 1 ' said Gabriel, "that shows your kind heart : but friendship must not make us forget our duty, and I must insist that you be on your way to Paris before I rise to-morrow. You have the governor's safe-conduct : your outfit has been ready for some days : your horse is as thoroughly rested as yourself ; your purse is full, thanks to the confidence of our good host, who has only one regret, worthy man. and that is that he is unable to advance the whole of my ransom. You lack nothing. Martin : and if you start early in the morning you ought to be in Paris in three days. Do you remem- ber what you are to do when you are safely there ? " " Yes. Monseigneur. I am to go at once to the house in the Rue des Jardins de St. Paul, to inform your nurse of your safety : to ask her for the ten thousand crowns required for your ransom, and three thousand more for your expenses and debts here : and as takers of my authority, I am to show her this line from you. and your ring." " Useless precautions. Martin, for my good nurse knows you well, my faithful fellow ! but I have yielded to your scruples. Eemember to see that this money is got together as quickly as possible, do you understand \ " " Never fear, Monseigneur. When I have the money, and have handed your letter to Monsieur l'Amiral, J am to come back even faster than I went away.'' DIVERS OCCURRENCES. 11 " No wretched quarrels on the way, above all things ! " " There is no danger, Monseigneur." " Well, then, adieu, Martin, and good luck to you ! " " In ten days yon will see me here again, Monseigneur, and at sunrise to-morrow I shall be a long way from Calais." On this occasion Arnauld kept his promise. He al- lowed Babette to go with him next morning to the city w T alls. He embraced her for the last time, swearing sol- emnly that she should see him again very soon ; then he drove his spurs into his horse, and w 7 as off in high spirits like the rascal that he was, and speedily disappeared at a bend in the road. The poor girl made haste to get back to the house be- fore her terrible brother should have arisen ; but she had to send word down that she was ill, so that she might indulge her grief alone in her chamber. Thereafter it would not be easy to say whether she or Gabriel awaited the squire's return the more impatiently. They were both doomed to wait a long while. 12 THE TWO DIANAS. CHAPTER II. HOW AKNAULD DU THILL CAUSED ARNAULD DU THILL TO BE HANGED AT NO YON. During the first day Arnauld du Thill had no unfortu- nate encounter, and pursued his journey with reasonable celerity. He met parties of the enemy from time to time along the road, — German deserters, disbanded English- men, and Spaniards insolent in the pride of conquest ; for there were more foreigners than Frenchmen at this time in our poor debased France. But to all questioners Arnauld proudly exhibited Lord Wentworth's safe-conduct ; and all of them, not without some regretful grumbling, thought best to respect the signature of the -governor of Calais. Nevertheless, on the second day, in the neighborhood of St. Queu tin, a detachment of Spaniards undertook to get the better of him by claiming that his horse was not included in the safe-conduct, and that they might conclude to confiscate him ; but the false Martin-Guerre was firm as a rock, and demanded to be taken to their commander, whereupon they released the sharp fellow and his horse without more ado. However, the adventure served as a useful lesson to him, and he resolved henceforward to avoid as far as pos- sible all meetings with armed bands. But it was a diffi- cult matter ; the enemy, although they had gained no decisive advantage by the capture of St. Quentin, nev- ertheless occupied all the surrounding country. Le Cate- let, Ham, Noyon, and Chauny were in their hands; and ARNAULD DU THILL HANGED. 13 when Arnauld found himself before Noyon, on the even- ing of the second day, he made up his mind that his best plan was to avoid the town by a detour, and not put up for the night until he came to the next settlement. In order to do this he had to leave the high-road. Ar- nauld, being but little acquainted with the country, lost his way ; as he was trying to get back into the right road again, he suddenly found himself at a turn in the path in the midst of a detachment of armed men, who likewise seemed to be in search of something. It is easier to imagine than describe Arnauld's intense satisfaction when he heard one of them cry out as soon as he caught sight of him, — " Hallo ! If here is n't that miserable Arnauld du Thill now ! " " Arnauld du Thill on horseback 1 " said another of the party. " Great Heaven ! " said the squire to himself, turning pale, 61 1 seem to be known hereabouts ; and if I am really recognized, it's all over with me." It was too late, however, for him to turn about and make his escape, for the soldiers were all around him. Fortunately it was already pretty dark. " Who are you, and where are you going 1 99 one of them asked him. " My name is Martin-Guerre." replied Arnauld, trem- bling with fear ; " I am the squire of Vicomte d'Exmes, now a prisoner at Calais, and I am on my way to Paris to procure the money for his ransom. Here is a safe- conduct signed by Lord Wentworth, governor of Calais." i The leader of the troop called one of his men, who carried a torch, and began with very serious mien to examine Arnauld's pass. " The seal is all right," said he ; " and the pass seems 14 THE TWO DIANAS. to be genuine. You have told the truth, my friend ; and you may go on about your business." " Thanks/' said Arnauld, breathing again. " One word more, my friend. You have not chanced to meet on your way a man who had the appearance of a fugitive, a rascally gallows-bird, who answers to the name of Arnauld du ThilU" " I don't know any such man as Arnauld du Thill," was Arnauld du Thill's hasty reply. " Perhaps you don't know him, my friend ; but you might have met him among these by-paths. He is about your height, and as well as one can judge in this darkness, of somewhat the same build. But he is by no means so well dressed as } t ou, I must admit. He w r ears a brown cape, round hat, and gray leggings, and he should be in hiding somewhere in the direction that you came from. The villain ! Oh, if he but fall into our hands just once more, that devilish scoundrel ! " 6 4 What has he done, pray?" inquired Arnauld, hesitatingly. " What has he done ? This is the third time that he has escaped from us. He claims that we made his life too hard for him. I think he 's right too ! When he ran away the first time he carried off his master's light o' love. Surely that deserved punishment. Then he had nothing to pay for his ransom. He has been sold over and over again, and has passed from hand to hand, and w T as the property of anybody who wanted him. It was no more than fair that since he could be of no value to us, he should entertain us ; but that made him proud, and he didn't choose to do it any longer, so he ran away again. Now, this makes the third time that he has done it, and if we catch the blackguard again ! " u What will you do to him ? " asked Arnauld, again. ARNAULD DU THILL HANGED. IS " The first time we beat him ; the second time we half killed him ; and the third time we will hang him ! " " Hang him ! " echoed Arnauld, in alarm. "To the nearest tree, my good fellow; and without trial. He is ours. To hang him will amuse us, and teach him a lesson. Look to your right, my friend. Do you see that gallows ] Well, we shall string up Arnauld du Thill on that very gallows the moment we succeed in capturing him." " Oh, indeed ! " said Arnauld, with rather constrained merriment. " It 's just as I tell you, my friend ! so if you meet the rascal, just take him in hand, and bring him to us ; w y e will not forget the service. Until then, farewell." Thereupon they were leaving him, but he, feeling im- mensely relieved, called them back. " Pardon me, masters, but one good turn deserves an- other ! ~ I am completely astray, you see, and have not the slightest idea where I am ; so just set my compass right for me, will you % " " That 's very easily done, my friend/' said the trooper. " Those walls behind you and the postern-gate that you can just distinguish in the darkness are part of Noyon. You are looking too far to the right, toward the gal- lows ; look more to the left, where you see the pikes of our comrades glistening, for our company is doing guard- duty to-night at that postern. Now, turn about and you have in front of you the road from Paris through the 'wood. About twenty paces from here the road forks. You may turn to the right or left, as you think best. The roads are of equal length, and come together at the ferry over the Oise about a fourth of a league from here. Having crossed the ferry, bear always to the right. The first village is Auvray, a league from the ferry. Now 16 THE TWO DIANAS. you know as much as we do, my friend. A pleasant journey to you ! " " Thanks, and good-evening/' said Arnauld, putting his horse to a trot. The directions they had given him were very accurate. Twenty paces away he came to the fork, and left the selection to his horse, who chose the left-hand road. The night was very dark, and the forest doubly so. However, in about ten minutes Arnauld arrived at a clearing in the woods ; and the moon, breaking through the clouds, cast a feeble and uncertain light upon the road. At that moment the squire was thinking of the fright he had had, and of the strange adventure which had put his sang-froid to the test. Though his mind w T as at ease as to the past, he could not contemplate the future without misgiving. u This must be the real Martin-Guerre, whom they are hunting under my name," he thought. " But the gal- lows-bird has got away ! I shall find him at Paris as soon as I get there myself, very likely, and a fine contest I shall have on my hands in that case. I know that nothing but impudence can carry me through ; but it may be my destruction. Why need the blackguard have escaped ? He is getting to be a great nuisance cer- tainly ; and it would be a great kindness to me if those brave fellows would hang him. He is decidedly my evil genius." This edifying monologue was yet unfinished wdien Arnauld, who had a very keen and practised sight, saw or thought he saw, a hundred paces or so ahead of him, a man, or more properly speaking, a shadow, which, as he drew near, suddenly disappeared in a ditch. " Hallo! another ill-timed meeting, — an ambush per- haps," thought the prudent Arnauld. ARNAULD DU THILL HANGED. 17 He tried to plunge into the woods, but the ditch was impassable for horseman and horse. He waited a few moments, then ventured to look around. The phantom, which had raised its head, disappeared as quickly as before. " Can it be that he is as much afraid of me as I am of him ? " said Arnauld to himself. " Are we equally anx- ious to avoid each other 1 Well, I must do something, since this infernal undergrowth prevents my going across through the woods to the other road. Must I go back to the fork in the road ! That would be the surest way. May I not bravely put my horse on the run and pass my man like a flash 1 That would be the shortest way to do. He is on foot, and unless a shot from an arquebuse — but no, I won't give him time for that." No sooner resolved than carried out. Arnauld drove both spurs into his horse's sides, and went by the man in ambush or hiding like a streak of lightning. The man did not stir. That rather lessened Arnauld's terror; he pulled up his horse, and even went back a few steps, acting upon a thought that had suddenly occurred to him. Still the man gave no sign of life. Thereupon all Arnauld's courage came back to him ; and now, almost certain that he was righ in his conjecture, he rode straight up to the ditch. But at this juncture, and before he had time even to utter an exclamation, the man gave one leap, and releas- ing Arnauld' right foot from the stirrup with a sudden movement, and throwing it roughly over the saddle, he cast the squire from his horse, fell to the ground upon him, and seized him by the throat with his knee on his chest. All this took place in less than twenty seconds. vol. ii. — 2 18 THE TWO DIANAS. " Who are you % What do you want 1 " asked the victor of his fallen foe. " Let me get up, I beseech you ! " said the almost strangled voice of Arnauld, who felt that he had met his master. " I am a Frenchman ; but I have a safe- conduct from Lord Went worth, governor of Calais." "If you are a Frenchman," said the man, — " and in truth you seem not to have an accent like all these demons of foreigners, — I have no need of your passport. But what made you approach me in such an extraor- dinary way % " " I thought that I saw a man in the ditch," said Arnauld, as the pressure on his chest was somewhat relaxed ; " and I was coming to see if it was n't a wounded man, and if there was n't something I could do for him." " Your purpose was good/' said the man, withdrawing his hand and taking away his knee. " Come, get up, comrade," he added, extending his hand to Arnauld, who was soon on his feet. " I gave you rather a — rather a rough welcome ; but you must excuse me, because I have no mind just now to have anybody interfering with my affairs. But you are a fellow-countryman, which is a very different matter ; and far from injuring me, you may do me a great service. Let us get to know each other first. My name is Martin-Guerre ; and yours 1 " "Mine? Mine? It's Bertrand," said Arnauld, with a start ; for being alone with him at night, and in that dense forest, this man, whom he ordinarily ruled com- pletely by virtue of his cunning and shrewdness, now quite as completely had him in his power by virtue of his strength and courage. Fortunately for Arnauld, the darkness assured his remaining unrecognized, and he did his best to disguise his voice. ARNAULD DU THILL HANGED. 19 " Well, friend Bertrand," continued Martin-Guerre, " let me tell you that I am an escaped prisoner, and that I got away this morning for the second time (my captors say for the third) from these Spaniards and English and Ger- mans and Flemings ; in short, from this whole catalogue of foes who have settled down upon our poor land like a swarm of locusts. For may I be hanged if France is not at this moment another Tower of Babel ! For the last month I have belonged, just as you see me now, to twenty jabber- ers of different nationalities ; and each patois was always harsher and more outlandish to listen to than the last. I was tired to death of beiiig harried from village to village, which was done to me so much that I began to think they were simply making sport of me, and amusing themselves by tormenting me. They were forever blackguarding me about some pretty little witch named Gudule, who was supposed to have fallen in love with me so madly apparently as to have run away with me." " Aha ! " ejaculated Arnauld. " I am just telling you what they told me. Well, their raillery tired me so much that one fine morning I took to my heels, all alone, however. As bad luck would have it, they caught me, and pounded me so that I had to pity myself. But what was the good of it all 1 They threatened to hang me if I did it again, but that only made me all the more anxious to attempt it ; and this morning, seizing a favorable opportunity while they w T ere arrang- ing their quarters at Noyon, I gave my tyrants the slip again finely. God knows how eagerly they have been hunting for me to hang me ! But as I am strongly opposed to that conclusion of the affair, I have been perched up in a tall tree here in the woods all day, wait- ing for night to come ; and I could n't help laughing, 20 THE TWO DIANAS. although rather feebly, to see them pass right under my feet, cursing and swearing. When it became dark, I left my observatory. Now, in the first place, T have lost my- self in the woods, having never been here before \ and in the second place, I am dying of hunger, not having had a morsel between my teeth for twenty-four hours, except a few leaves and roots, which do not make a bountiful meal. That is why I fell down from weakness, as you can easily understand." "Phew!" said Arnauld. "I didn't understand it that way just now ; on the contrary, you seemed to me, I must confess, to be quite vigorous." "Oh, yes," said Martin, "because I pommelled you a little. However, don't be angry about it. It was the fever of hunger that lent strength to my arm. But now you are my Providence ; for you, being a fellow- countryman, surely will not let me fall into the hands of those fellows again, will you 1 " " No, to be sure I will not, if I can help you in any way," replied Arnauld du Thill, who was reflecting in his shrt s vd way upon what Martin had said. iu.e began to see light on the subject of regaining his advantage, which had been put in some peril by the strong grasp of his double. " You can do a great deal for me," Martin-Guerre went on ingenuously. "Are you not somewhat ac- quainted with this neighborhood 1 " " I belong in Auvray, a quarter of a league from here," said Arnauld. " Are you on your w r ay there ? " " No, I am j.ust coming from there," replied the crafty knave, after a moment's hesitation. " Does Auvray lie in that direction, then 1 " asked Martin, pointing toward Noyon. ARNAULD DU THILL HANGED. 21 " Exactly so," replied Arnauld ; " it is the first village out of Noyon on the road to Paris." "On the road to Paris!" cried Martin; " well, just see, then, how a man may get turned around in the woods ! I fancied that my back was turned to Noyon, whereas I was really coming back to it ; that I was going toward Paris, whereas I was really getting farther away. The cursed country is entirely strange to me, as I was just telling you. So it seems that I must travel in the direction from which you came to avoid walking into the wolfs jaws." " You are quite right, Master ! I am going to Noyon ; but walk with me a few steps. We shall find at the ferry over the Oise, close by, another road which will take you to Auvray more directly." " I am very much obliged, friend Bertrand," said Martin \ " to be sure, I want to be as sparing of my steps as possible, for I am very tired and very weak, having, as. I was telling you, about as little sustenance in me as I well could have. You don't happen to have anything to eat about you, friend Bertrand, do you ] If you have, you will have saved me twice over, — once from the English, and again from starvation, which is quite as terrible as they." " Alas ! " was Arnauld's reply, " I have n't a crumb in my haversack ! But if you care for a draught of good wine, w 7 hy, my calash is quite full." In fact, Babette had taken care to fill her unfaithful swain's calash with vin de Chypre, — a very potent wine of the period ; and Arnauld up to that time had in- dulged very sparingly, so as to retain his rather easily upset reasoning powers amid the perils of the road. u I think I should be more than glad of a drink !" 22 THE TWO DIANAS. cried Martin-Guerre, enthusiastically. "A draught of wine is sure to enliven me a bit." " Well, then, take it and drink away, my good fellow ! " said Arnauld, offering him his calash. " Thanks ! And may God requite you ! " said Martin, who set to work unsuspiciously to drown his sorrows in the wine, which was as treacherous as he who offered it, and whose fumes almost immediately began to work upon his brain, which was easily affected on account of his long abstinence from food. "Well, well," said he, hilariously, "this light wine of yours does n't lack fire ! " " Oh, 7)ion Dieu ! it 's quite harmless ! " said Arnauld ; " I drink two bottles at every meal. But as the evening is very fine, let us sit here on the grass awhile ; and do you take a good rest, and drink at your leisure. I have time enough ; and I shall be all right if I reach Noyon before ten o'clock, which is the hour for closing the gates. But you, although Auvray still flies the standard of France, are nevertheless likely to meet with trouble- some patrolling parties if you follow the high-road so early ; while if you leave it, you will lose your way again. The best course will be for us to stay here awhile, and quietly talk matters over. Where were you made prisoner % " " I don't quite know," said Martin-Guerre, " for there are two contradictory versions of that matter, just as there are of almost the whole of my unfortunate life, — one which I believe myself, and another which I hear from others. For instance, I am assured that it was at the battle of St. Laurent that I surrendered at discre- tion ; while my own idea is that I was not present on that occasion, and that it was somewhat later than that ARNAULD DU THILL HANGED. 23 that I fell into the hands of a party of the enemy all by myself. " " What do you mean V 1 asked Arnauld, feigning incre- dulity. " Have you two histories, pray 1 Your adven- tures seem very interesting and instructive, to say the least of them. I must confess that I am extravagantly fond of such tales. Just take a good drink to freshen up your memory, and tell me something of your life. You are not from Picardy ? " " No," replied Martin, after a pause, which he occu- pied in drinking three fourths of the contents of the calash ; " no, I am from the South, — Artigues." " A fine country, they say. Is your family there 1 " " My wife and children, my good friend," replied Mar- tin, who had become very expansive and confidential under the influence of the Chypre. Being stimulated partly by Arnauld's questions and partly by his constant libations, he began to narrate with great volubility his whole history, even to its least de- tail, — his youth, his love-affairs, and his marriage ; that his wife was a very charming woman, notwithstanding a slight failing in regard to her hand, which was too quick and too heavy at once. In truth, a blow from a woman was no dishonor to a man, although it was rather tire- some in the long run. That was w 7 hy Marti n-Guerre had left his too-emphatic wife. Then followed a circumstan- tial account of the causes, details, and sequel of the rup- ture between them. However, he loved her stdl at heart, — his dear Bertrande ! He still wore on his finger his iron marriage-ring, and over his heart the two or three letters which Bertrande had written the first time they ever were separated. As he told of this, the honest fellow wept. It was decidedly tender-hearted w T ine. He would have liked to go on with the details of everything 24 THE TWO DIANAS. that had happened to him since he entered the service of Yicorate d'Exmes ; that a demon had pursued him ; that he, Martin-Guerre, was double, and did not recognize himself at all in his other existence. But this portion of his narrative seemed less interesting to Arnauld du Thill, who kept luring him back to talk of his childhood and his father's house, of his friends and kinsfolk at Artigues, and of Bertrande's charms and failings. • In less than two hours the treacherous Arnauld, by dint of skilful £;ad persistent questioning, knew all that he cared to know about the former habits and the most private concerns of poor Martin-Guerre. At the end of two hours Martin, with his head on fire, rose, or rather tried to rise ; for as soon as he moved, he stumbled and fell heavily back onto his seat. " Well, well, what 's the matter 1 " said he, with a loud laugh which was a long while dying out. " Upon my soul, your saucy wine has done its work ! Give me your hand, pray, my friend, so that I may be able to stand up." Arnauld courageously went about hoisting him up, and at last succeeded in getting him on his legs, but not in a posture of classical equilibrium. " Hallo, there ! what a number of lanterns ! " cried Martin. il Oh, what a fool I am ! I took the stars for lanterns." Then he began to sing at the top of his voice, — " Par ta foy, envoyras-tu pas Au vin, pour fournir le repas Du meilleur cabaret (Tenfer Le vieil ravasseur Lucifer ? " 1 1 11 Old Lucifer, tliou libertine, Wilt thou not send some wine From Acheron's best caharet To grace this feast of mine 1 99 ARNAULD DU THILL HANGED. 25 u Don't make such an infernal noise ! " cried Arnauld ; " suppose some party of the enemy should be passing near, and hear you 1 " " Basta ! I'm not afraid of them/' said Martin; " what could they do to me? Hang me? It must be very fine to be hanged. You have made me drink too much, comrade. I, who am commonly as sober as a judge, don't know how to fight against drunkenness, and then, besides, I had been fasting, and I was almost starved; now I am thirsty. " ' Par ta foy, envoyras-tu pas — ' " " Be still ! " said Arnauld. " Come, try to walk. Don't you mean to put up for the night at Auvray % " "Oh, yes, I want to put up for the night," said Mar- tin, " but not at Auvray ; down here on the grass, beneath God's lanterns." " Yes," retorted Arnauld ; " and to-morrow morning some Spanish patrol will come along and discover you, and send you to take up your quarters with the Devil." "With Lucifer, the old rake?" said Martin. "No, I prefer to pull myself together a bit, and drag myself as far as Auvray. It 's this way, is n't it 1 Well, I 'm off." But it w 7 as absurd for him to talk about pulling him- self together : for he described such marvellous zigzags that Arnauld saw clearly that without some help from him, Martin would speedily lose his way again, — that is to say, he would very likely be safe for the time ; and that was just what the villain did not want. " Come," said he to poor, drunken Martin ; " I have a kind heart, and Auvray is not so very far away. I will go there with you. Just let me unhitch my horse ; then I can lead him by the bridle, and give you my arm." "Ma foil I gladly accept," rejoined Martin ; " I am not proud, and between ourselves I confess that I believe 26 THE TWO DIANAS. I am a little tipsy. I am still of the opinion that that light wine of yours does not lack strength. I am very happy, but just a little tipsy." ''Well, let's be off; it's getting late/' said Arnauld du Thill, starting off on the road by which he had come, with his double leaning on his arm, and heading straight for the postern gate of Noyon. " But to beguile the time," he added, "are you not going to tell me another amusing story about Artigues 1 " " Shall I tell you the story of Papotte % 99 said Martin- Guerre. " Ah, poor Papotte ! " The epic of Papotte was rather too incoherent for us to undertake to reproduce here. It was almost finished when these two Dromios of the sixteenth century arrived in rather indifferent trim before the Noyon gate. " There ! " said Arnauld ; " I have no need to go any farther. Do you see that gate ? Well, that is the gate of Auvray. Knock there, and the watchman will open for you ; you tell him that you are a friend of mine, and he will point out to you my house, only two steps from the gate. Go there, and my brother will welcome you and give you a good supper and a good bed. Now, comrade, let me shake your hand once more, and adieu ! " " Adieu ! and many thanks," said Martin. " I am only a poor devil, and in no condition to realize all that you have done for me. But never fear, the good Lord, who is a just God, will know how to requite you. Adieu, my friend." Strangely enough, these drunken predictions made Ar- nauld shudder, though superstition was not among his faults ; and for a moment he thought of calling Martin back. But he was already knocking lustily at the postern. " Poor devil, he is knocking at the door of his tomb ! ,; thought Arnauld ; " but, bah ! this is childishness." ARNAULD DU THILL HANGED. 27 Meanwhile Martin, with no suspicion that his fellow- traveller was spying him from a distance, was shouting at the top of his voice, — "Hallo there, watchman! Hallo, Cerberus! open the gate, blockhead ! It is Bertrand, worthy Bertrand, who has sent me." " Who goes there % 9i demanded the sentinel from within. " It 's too late to come in. Who are you to be making such an uproar]" " Who am I % You drunkard, I am Martin-Guerre, or Arnauld du Thill, if you please ; or the friend of Ber- trand, if you like that better. I am several people all at once, especially when I am in liquor. I am twenty rakes or so, who are going to give you a good sound drubbing if you don't open the gate for me at once." " Arnauld du Thill ! You are Arnauld du Thill % " asked the sentinel. - " Yes, I am Arnauld du Thill, twenty thousand cart- loads of devils ! " said Martin-Guerre, hammering away at the gate with feet as well as fists. Then there was a noise behind the gate as of troops assembling at the call of the sentinel. A man with a lantern opened the gate ; and Arnauld du Thill, crouching behind the trees at a little distance, heard several voices crying out together in surprise, — " Upon my word, it 's he ! It 's he indeed, upon my soul ! " Poor Martin-Guerre, recognizing his tyrants, uttered a cry of despair, which struck upon Arnauld's heart in his hiding-place like a malediction. Then he judged from the trampling and yelling that brave Martin, seeing that everything was lost, was mak- ing a stout fight for liberty ; but he had only two fists 28 THE TWO DIANAS. against twenty swords. The noise grew less, then died gradually away until it ceased altogether. They had dragged Martin away, blaspheming and cursing. " If he expects to smooth matters over with insults and blows — "said Arnauld, rubbing his hands. When he could hear nothing more, he gave himself up to reflection for a quarter of an hour ; for he was a very deep rascal, this same Arnauld du Thill. The result of his meditation was that he penetrated three or four hundred paces into the woods, tied his horse to a tree, laid his saddle and blanket upon the dead leaves, wrapped himself in his cloak, and in a few minutes was sleeping the deep sleep which God makes much easier for, the hardened villain than for the innocent. He slept eight hours without stirring. Nevertheless, when he awoke it was still dark ; and he knew from the position of the stars that it must be about four o'clock in the morning. He rose and shook himself, and without disturbing his horse, crept softly out toward the high-road. On the gallows which they had pointed out -to him the night before, the body of poor Martin-Guerre was swinging gently to and fro. A hideous smile flickered upon Arnauld's lips. He approached the body without a quiver ; but it was hanging too high for him to touch. Then he climbed up the gallows-post, sword in hand, and when he had reached the necessary height, cut the cord with his sword. The body fell to the ground. Arnauld came down again, removed an iron ring hardly worth the taking from the dead man's finger, searched in his breast and there found some papers which he care- fully put away, put his cloak on again, and coolly walked away, without a look, without a prayer for the poor ARNAULD DU THILL HANGED. 29 wretch whom he had worried so during his life, and whom he thus robbed in death. He found his horse in the underbrush, saddled him, and started off at full speed toward Aulnay. He was well satisfied, villain that he was, for Martin no longer was an object of fear to him. A half-hour later, just as the first glimmer of day be- gan to appear in the east, a wood-cutter, chancing to pass that way, saw the gallows-cord cut, and the body lying on the ground. He drew near, fearful and curious at the same time, to the dead man, whose clothes were in disorder, and the cord loose around his neck ; he was wondering whether the weight of the body had broken the cord, or if some friend had cut it, too late, no doubt. He even ventured to touch the body to make sure that it was really lifeless. To his unbounded alarm, the body moved its head and hands, and raised itself upon its knees ; and the terrified wood-cutter fled into the woods, crossing himself over and over again, and commending his soul to God and the saints. 30 THE TWO DIANAS. CHAPTER III. ARNAULD DU THILL'S BUCOLIC DREAMS. THEConstable de Montmorency, who had only returned to Paris the night before, after paying a royal sum by way of ransom, had presented himself at the Louvre to ascertain how the land lay ; but Henri had received him with forbidding coolness, and had indulged himself in the highest encomiums upon the administration of the Due de Guise, who had so arranged matters, he said, as to diminish, if not altogether to amend, the misfortunes of the kingdom. The constable, pale with anger and jealousy, thought that he might at least hope to find some comfort from Diane de Poitiers. But the favorite also received him very coldly ; and when Montmorency complained of such a reception, and gave voice to his fear that his absence had been a very bad thing for him, and that some more fortunate man than he had succeeded him in the good graces of the duchess, Madame de Poitiers rejoined impertinently, — "Dame! of course you know the new by-word of the Parisian populace ? " " I arrived but now, Madame ; and I do not know," the constable began hesitatingly. " Oh, well ! they say now, this scandal-loving popu- lace, ' This is the motto of St. Laurent : he who forsakes his post, loses it.' M ARNAULD DU THILL'S BUCOLIC DREAMS. 31 The constable, with a blanched face, saluted the duch- ess, and left the Louvre with death at his heart. When he reached his hotel and was alone in his own room, he cast his hat violently on the floor. " Oh, these kings and these women ! " he cried. " An ungrateful lot they are ! They care for nothing but success." " Monseigneur," said his valet, " there is a man asking leave to speak to you." " Let him go to the devil ! " retorted the constable. " I am in fine condition to receive visitors ! Send him to Monsieur de Guise." "Monseigneur, this man begged me to tell you his name, which he says is Arnauld du Thill." " Arnauld du Thill ! " exclaimed the constable, "that 's a different matter. Show him in." The valet bowed and withdrew. " This fellow Arnauld," the constable reflected, " is clever, cunning, and avaricious, — more than that, he has no scruples and conscience. Oh, if he could only help me to be revenged on all these people ! To be revenged, do I say ] But what should I gain by that 1 He might possibly help me to make my way back into favor ! He knows many things. It has already occurred to me to make use of my knowledge of this Montgommery affair ; but it would be much better if I might learn something from Arnauld which would enable me to dispense with doing that." At this moment Arnauld du Thill was ushered into the room. Joy and impudence were struggling for the mastery in the rascal's expression. He bowed to the ground before the constable. " I thought you were a prisoner," said Montmorency. 32 THE TWO DIANAS. " So I was, Monseigneur, just as you were." "But you seem to have got out of the difficulty/ 7 rejoined the constable. " Yes, Monseigneur ; I paid them in my money, — that is to say, I laughed at them instead. You used your money and I used my wits ; and here we are both at liberty," "Ah, you are an impudent scoundrel," said the constable. "No, Monseigneur," rejoined Amauld, " it was just my modest way of saying that I am out of money, that 's all." " Hum ! " grumbled Montmorency ; " what do you want of me ? " " Money, since I have none, Monseigneur." "And why should I give you money?" "Why, to pay me, Monseigneur," replied the spy. " Pay you for what, pray ? " "For the intelligence I bring you." " Tell me your news." " Let me see your crowns." " Villain ! suppose I were to have you hanged 1 " " A most contemptible way that of loosening my tongue, Monseigneur, to stretch my neck." " He is so very audacious," thought the constable, "that he must know that I can't do without him." "Well, fellow," he said, aloud, "I have no objection to making some slight further advance to you." "Monseigneur is very kind," said Arnauld ; "and I will not fail to remind him of his generous promise when he has settled up his outstanding debt to me." "What debt?" asked the constable. " Here is my account, Monseigneur," said Arnauld, producing the famous document which we have seen him at work on so often. ARNAULD DU THILL'S BUCOLIC DREAMS. 33 Anne de Montmorency cast his eyes over it. " Yes," said he, u this paper contains, besides services which are entirely fanciful and imaginary, others which might have been very useful to me at the time when you rendered them, considering my situation at that time, but which at present serve no purpose except to make my regrets all the more poignant." " Bah, Monseigneur ! it may be that you exaggerate the extent of your disgrace," said Arnauld. " What's that?" said the constable. " Do you know, then, pray, does everybody already know, that I am in disgrace % " " People suspect as much ; and so do I, Monseigneur." " Very well, then, Arnauld," Montmorency rejoined bitterly; "you may very well suspect too that it is of no use to me at present that Vicomte d'Exmes and Diane de Castro were separated at St. Quentin, since in all probability the king and the grande senechale are no longer willing to give their daughter to my son." " Mon JDieu, Monseigneur!" was Arnauld's response. " I imagine that the king would very gladly consent to give her to you if you could give her back to him." " What do you mean % " " I say, Monseigneur, that our sire, Henri II., ought to be very sad at heart at this moment, not only because of the loss of St. Quentin and the battle of St. Laurent, but also because of the loss of his dearly loved daughter Diane de Castro, who disappeared after the siege of St. Quentin without leaving any traces by which it is pos- sible to tell what has become of her ; for there have been twenty contradictory and inconsistent reports about her disappearance. Having only returned yesterday, of course you know nothing of all this, Monseigneur ; I did n't know it myself until this morning." VOL. II. — 3 34 THE TWO DIANAS. " I had so many other things to think of," said the constable, " it was quite natural that I should be thinking of my present disgrace rather than of my past favor." "Very true!" said Arnauld; "but would not that favor How back in your direction if you should say to the king something like this, for instance : ' Sire, you are sorrowing for your daughter, and searching for her everywhere, and asking news of her from every one you see ; but I alone know where she is, Sire ' ? " "Do you mean to say that you know, Arnauld?" asked Montmorency, eagerly. " My trade is to know things," said the spy. " I told you that I had news to sell ; and you see that my goods are not of poor quality. You should reflect on that, Monseigneur." " I reflect," said the constable, " that kings have a way of remembering the defeats of their servants, but not their merits. When I have restored Henri's daugh- ter to him, he will be beside himself with delight at first; all the wealth and all the honors in his whole realm would not be enough to requite me in the first flush of his gratitude. Then Diane will w 7 eep, and say that she would rather die than give her hand to any but her dear Vicomte d'Exmes ; and the king, being entirely under her control, and dominated by my bitter foes, will remember the battle that I lost, and forget the child I have restored to him. So all my efforts will be pushed out of sight to accomplish the happiness of Vicomte d'Exmes." " In that case it will be necessary," said Arnauld, with a smile of sinister meaning, " that Vicomte d'Exmes should disappear at the moment that Madame de Castro reappears. Ah, that would be a fine game, eh 1 " "Yes; but I am reluctant to resort to such extreme ARNAULD DU THILL'S BUCOLIC DREAMS. measures," said the constable. " I know that your hand is sure, and your tongue discreet ; but — " "Oh, Monseigneur' entirely mistakes my intention!" cried Arnauld, assuming an air of injured innocence. " Monseigneur does me great injustice ! Monseigneur believed that I wished to get rid of this youth by a — violent process." (He made an expressive gesture.) " No, a thousand times no ! I have a much better plan than that." " What is it, pray 1 " asked the constable, with un- feigned interest. " Let us first arrange our own little matters, Mon- seigneur. Suppose that I tell you the place where the lost damsel is to be found. I insure the absence and silence of your son's dangerous rival, at least for the length of time necessary to conclude his marriage. These are two notable services, Monseigneur. Now, in return, what will you do for me % " " What do you ask ? " " You are reasonable, and I will be the same," rejoined Arnauld. " In the first place, you will settle, will you not, without haggling, the little account for past services, which I had the honor to present to you just now? " " Very well," replied the constable. " I knew that we should have no difficulty on this first point, Monseigneur. The total is an insignificant sum, and the whole amount is hardly enough to cover the expenses of my journey, and for certain gifts which I expect to buy before I leave Paris. But then, money is n't the only thing in the world." " What ! " said the astonished and almost alarmed constable, " can it really be Arnauld du Thill who says that money is n't the only thing in the world % " " Even Arnauld du Thill, Monseigneur, but no longer 36 THE TWO DIANAS. the needy raid avaricious Arnauld du Thill whom you formerly knew. Xo ; another Arnauld, content with the moderate fortune he has — earned, and no longer de- sirous, alas ! of anything except to pass the rest of his life in peace in the country where he was born, under his paternal roof-tree, and amid the friends of his childhood, in the bosom of his family. That was always my dream, Monseigneur ; and I have ever looked forward to that as the peaceful and delightful termination of my — troubled life." "Yes,' 1 said" Montmorency, "if it is necessary to go through the tempest in order to enjoy calm weather, you will surely be happy, Arnauld. But have you made your fortune ] " " Only a moderate one, Monseigneur, — only a mod- erate one. Ten thousand crowns is a fortune for a poor devil like me, especially in my humble village, and in the bosom of my modest family." "Your family ! your village ! " rejoined the constable; " you whom I supposed to be without home or kinsfolk, and to be living on your wits in a second-hand coat, and under an assumed name." " My real name is Martin-Guerre, Monseigneur, and Arnauld du Thill an assumed one, in truth. I was born at the village of Artigues, near Rieux, where my wife and children now live." " Your wife ! " echoed old Montmorency, more and more bewildered. " Your children ! " " Yes, Monseigneur," replied Arnauld, in the most comically sentimental tone imaginable ; " and I ought to notify you, Monseigneur, not to count upon any further services from me, and that these two suggestions which I have just made will be the very last I can undertake to carry out. I am going to withdraw from business, ARNAULD DU THILL'S BUCOLIC DREAMS. 37 and lead an honest life henceforth, surrounded by the affectionate regard of my people, and the esteem of my fellow-citizens." " That 's all very fine ! " said the constable; "but if you have become so modest and pastoral that you don't care to talk about money any more, what price do you ask for these secrets which you say that you possess ^ " " I ask for something more, and yet less, than money, Monseigneur," replied Arnauld, this time in his natural tone ; " I ask for an honor, — not for honors, of course, but just a little honor, of which I am very much in need, I confess." " Explain yourself," said Montmorency, " for you are speaking in enigmas." " Well, then, Monseigneur, here it is : I have had a writing prepared which attests that I, Martin-Guerre, have been in your service for so many years as — as squire (we must draw on our imagination a bit) ; that during all that time I have conducted myself as a trusty and faithful and most devoted servant ; and that this devotion, Monseigneur, you have desired to repay by giving me a sufficient sum to enable me to pass the rest of my life in comfort. Place your seal and your signa- ture at the foot of that document, Monseigneur, and we shall be quits." " Impossible ! " was the constable's response. " I should render myself liable to a charge of forgery — that is to say, to be branded as a forger and a felon — if I signed such a mass of lies." " They are no lies, Monseigneur, for I have always served you faithfully, according to my own lights \ and I assure you that if I had saved all the money I have obtained from you heretofore, it would amount now to more than ten thousand crowns. So you do not expose 38 THE TWO DIANAS. yourself to any charge of falsifying ; and besides, do you think that I don't render myself liable to very grave penalties in order to bring about the happy result of which you have only to reap the fruits % " " Wretch ! Such a comparison — " " Is perfectly fair, Monseigneur," Arnauld retorted. " Each of us is in need of the other, and equality is the daughter of necessity. The spy restores you your credit, so you must do as much for the spy. Come, no one hears us, Monseigneur, so no false shame ! Eatify the bargain ; it is a good one for me, but even better for you. Give and take, you know. Sign, Monseigneur ! " " No, not till afterward," rejoined Montmorency. " Give and take, as you say. In the first place, 1 must know the means you propose to use to arrive at this two- fold result which you promise me. I must know what has become of Diane de Castro, and what will become of Vicomte d'Exmes." " Very well ! Except as to some minor details, I am ready to satisfy you on these two points, Monseigneur ; and you will be forced to agree that chance and myself together have arranged things excellently well for your interest." " Go on ! " said the constable ; " I am listening." " As far as Madame de Castro is concerned, she was neither slain nor carried away, but simply made prisoner at St. Quentin, being included among the fifty notable persons who were to be held to ransom. Now, why has not the one into whose hands she has fallen made public his capture ] How is it that Madame de Castro herself has not sent any information of her whereabouts] As to that, I am entirely in the dark. To tell the truth, I thought she was already free, and expected to find her here in Paris when I arrived. It was only this morning ARNAULD DU THILL'S BUCOLIC DREAMS. 39 that I learned from the public reports that nothing was known at court of her whereabouts, and that this fact was by no means the least of Henri's causes of anxiety. It may be that in these troublous times Madame Diane's messages may have been misdirected or gone astray ; or perhaps some other mystery may be hidden under this delay. But at all events, I can put at rest all doubt, and say positively where, and in whose hands, Madame de Castro is." " That information would indeed be very valuable," said the constable. " Where is the place, and who is the man?" " Wait a moment, pray, Monseigneur ! " said Arnauld. " Have you no wish to be equally well informed as to Yicomte d'Exmes] For although it is a good thing to know the whereabouts of our friends, it is even more advantageous to be posted as to those of our enemies." 06 Oh, a truce to your proverbs ! " said Montmorency. " Where is this D'Exmes 1 " " Also a prisoner, Monseigneur," replied Arnauld. " Who is there who has n't been a prisoner more or less in these times 1 It has been quite the fashion. Well, Vicomte d'Exmes has followed the fashion, and he is a prisoner." " But he surely will be at no loss to let his where- abouts be known," was the rejoinder of the constable. " He must have friends and plenty of money ; no doubt he will procure the wherewithal to pay his ransom, and will be down upon us very soon." " You are quite right in your conjectures, Monseigneur. Yes, Yicomte d'Exmes has money ; and he is very impa- tient to be at liberty, and proposes to pay his ransom at the earliest possible moment. In fact, he has already 40 THE TWO DIANAS. sent a messenger to Paris to procure the price of his free- dom and hasten back to him with it." " What can we do, then ? " asked Montmorency. " Fortunately for us, though unfortunately for him," Arnauld continued, "the person whom he has sent to Paris in such hot haste is myself, Monseigneur, — no other than myself, who am in Yicomte d'Exmes's service as squire, under my real name of Martin-Guerre. You see that you can call me a squire without falsehood." " And have you not executed your commission, you blackguard?" said the constable. "Have you not your pretended master's ransom already in your pocket % " " Indeed I have, Monseigneur, you may be quite sure, for one does n't leave such things on the ground. Con- sider, too, that not to take the money would be to arouse suspicion. I took it to the last crown, — for the good of the undertaking. But don't be alarmed ! I shall put off taking it to him for a long while, on one pretext or another. These ten thousand crowns are just what I need to help me to pass the rest of my life piously and honestly ; and I should be supposed to owe them to your generosity, Monseigneur, on the strength of the paper you are going to sign." "I will not sign it, you villain ! " cried Montmorency. " I will not knowingly become the accomplice of a thief." " Oh, Monseigneur," said Arnauld, " what a harsh name that is to apply to a stern necessity, which I submit to so that I may do you a service ! What ! I allow my devotion to you to stifle the voice of my conscience, and you recompense me thus for it? Oh, well, so be it ! Let us send Vicomte d'Exmes this sum of money, and he will be here as soon as Madame Diane, if not before her. Whereas, if he should not receive it — " ARNAULD DU THILL'S BUCOLIC DREAMS. 41 " Well, if he should not receive it ? " said the constable, " We should gain so much time, Monseigneur. In the first place, Monsieur d'Exmes will wait patiently a fort- night for my return. There is naturally some delay about procuring ten thousand crowns; in fact, his nurse did n't hand them to me till this morning." " Did that poor creature trust you, then 1 " " She trusted me, supported as I was by the viscount's ring and handwriting, Monseigneur. Besides, she knew me perfectly well. Well, then, we will say a fortnight of patient waiting, a week of anxious waiting, and another week of hopeless waiting. It will be a month, or a month and a half, before Vicomte d'Exmes will send another mes- senger in search of the first. But the first will be hard to find ; and if it is not easy to get together ten thou- sand crowns, it will be almost impossible to get ten thou- sand more. Thus you will have ample time to marry your daughter twenty times over, Monseigneur ; for Vicomte d'Exmes will be as completely out of sight as if he were dead for more than two months, and will not reappear, living and furious with rage, before the beginning of the new year." " Yes, but he will come back ! " said Montmorency ; "and the very first day he will set about finding out what has become of his good squire, Martin-Guerre, will he not?" "Alas, Monseigneur," rejoined Arnauld, piteously, " the answer to be made to him, I regret to inform you, will be that faithful Martin-Guerre, on his way back to his master with the ransom which he had been sent after, unluckily fell into the hands of a party of Span- iards, who, having probably rifled his pockets and robbed him, cruelly hanged him at the gates of Noyon to assure his silence." 42 THE TWO DIANAS. " What 's that 1 Do you mean to be hanged, Arnauld 1 " " I have been, Monseigneur ; see how zealous I am in your service. It will only be as to the date of the execu- tion that the various versions of the story will differ somewhat. Eut can one believe plundering soldiers who are interested in concealing the truth 1 Come, Mon- seigneur ! " continued the audacious fellow, gayly but with determination in his tone ; " believe that my precau- tions have been very carefully taken, and that with an experienced blade like myself there is not the slightest danger that your Excellency will ever be compromised. If prudence were banished from earth, it would take refuge in the heart of a hanged man. Besides, I say again, you will only be declaring what is true. I have served you for a long while, as a number of your people can bear witness as well as yourself; and you have given me quite ten thousand crowns in all, be sure of that. Do you want me to give you a receipt for it ] " added the scamp, magnificently. The constable could not restrain a smile. " Yes," said lie, "I do, varlet ; if at the end of the account — - " Arnauld interrupted. "Come, come, Monseigneur," said he ; "you are only quibbling about the form now, and what do superior minds like ours care for form ] Just sign without any more ado." He spread out upon the table before Montmorency the document which needed only his signature. " But in the first place, the name of the city where Diane de Castro is confined, and of the man whose prisoner she is 1 " " Name for name, Monseigneur; put yours at the foot of this paper, and you shall have the others." ARNAULD DU THILL'S BUCOLIC DREAMS. 43 " Very good," said Montmorency. He dashed off the bold scrawl which served him for a signature. " And the seal, Monseigneur 1 " " There it is ; now are you satisfied 1 " " As thoroughly as if Monseigneur had given me the ten thousand crowns." " Well, then, where is Diane] " " In the hands of Lord Wentworth at Calais," replied Arnauld, trying to grasp the document from the hand of the constable, who still held on to it. " One moment," said he; "andVicomte d'ExmesV' " At Calais, in the hands of Lord Wentworth." " Then he and Diane see each other 1 " "No, Monseigneur; he lives at the house of an armorer, one Pierre Peuquoy, while she is an inmate of the governor's house. Vicomte d'Exmes has no more idea than you, I am willing to swear, that she is so near him." u I must hasten to the Louvre," said the constable, relaxing his hold on the paper. " And I to Artigues," cried Arnauld, in triumph. " Good luck, Monseigneur ! Try not to be a constable who is laughed at again." " Good luck, blackguard ! and try not to be hung for good." Thereupon each went his way. 44 THE TWO DIANAS. CHAPTER IV. THE ARMS OF PIERRE PEUQUOY, THE ROPES OF JEAN PEUQUOY, AND THE TEARS OF BABETTE PEUQUOY. Nearly a month elapsed at Calais without bringing about any change in the situation of those whom we left there to their great regret. Pierre Peuquoy was always working away diligently at his armor; Jean Peuquoy had begun to weave again, and in his leisure moments finished some ropes of extraordinary length ; Babette Peuquoy was always weeping. Gabriel's waiting had gone through the various phases sketched by Arnauld du Thill to the constable. He had waited patiently the first fortnight, but had began then to grow impatient. He now visited Lord Wentworth only on very rare occasions ; and his calls were always very brief. There had been coolness between them ever since Gabriel had rashly interfered in the fictitious family affairs of the governor. The latter too, we take great pleasure in saying, grew more and more gloomy from day to day ; but the cause of his uneasiness was not the three messages which had been sent at short intervals since Arnauld 's departure, from the King of France. All three made, as may well be imagined, the same demand, — the first politely, the second sharply, and the third with threats : they de- manded the liberty of Madame de Castro for such ransom as the governor of Calais chose to name. But to all three THE ARMS, ROPES, AND TEARS OF PEUQUOY. 45 he had made the same reply, — that he proposed to keep Madame de Castro as an hostage to be exchanged in case of need during the war for some prisoner of importance, or to* be returned to the king without ransom when peace should be concluded. He was strictly within his rights ; and intrenched behind his strong walls, he defied Henri's anger. So it was not the royal anger which worried him, although he could but ask himself how the king had learned of Diane's captivity ; the real source of his anxiety was the indifference, every day more contemptu- ous, of his fair prisoner. Neither humility nor assiduous attention had availed to lower the proud and disdainful spirit of Madame de Castro. She was always the same — calm and sad and dignified — before the passionate gov- ernor ; and whenever he ventured to utter a word of his love (although it must in justice be said that he never violated the bounds which his title as a gentleman im- posed upon him), an expression, at once mournful and haughty, broke poor Lord Went worth's heart and wounded his pride. He did not dare to speak to Diane either of the letter she had written to Gabriel or of the attempts made by the king to procure his daughter's liberty, so much did he dread a bitter word or a satirical reproof from those lovely but cruel lips. Diane had noticed that the servant who had dared to undertake to deliver her billet was no longer to be seen about the house, and fully understood that that desperate chance had failed her. However, she did not lose her courage , the pure and noble girl w r aited and prayed. She trusted in God, and in death, in case of need. On the last day of October, which Gabriel had fixed on in his own mind as the limit to his term of waiting for Martin-Guerre's return, he determined to call upon 46 THE TWO DIANAS. Lord Wentworth and ask, as a favor, his leave to send another messenger to Paris. About two o'clock he left the Peuquoy house, where Pierre was polishing a sword, Jean weaving one Of his enormous ropes, and where for several days past, Babette, with eyes red from weeping, had been wandering from room to room, unable to speak, and betook himself straight to the governor's mansion. Lord Wentworth was busy about something or other at the moment, and sent word to Gabriel begging him to wait five minutes, when he would be entirely at his service. The hall to which Gabriel had been shown looked out upon an interior courtyard. Gabriel drew near the win- dow to look out into the court, and mechanically ran his fingers back and forth over the panes. Suddenly, be- neath his very fingers, his attention was attracted by let- ters drawn upon the glass with a diamond ring. He looked at them more closely, and was able to make out with perfect distinctness these words : Diane de Castro. It was the signature which w T as missing at the end of the mysterious letter he had received the month before. A film came over Gabriel's eyes, and he had to lean against the wall to avoid falling. His presentiments had not lied, then ! Diane ! It was indeed Diane, his fiancee or his sister, whom this dissolute Wentworth actually had in his power ! It was to her, the pure and lovely creature, that he dared to speak of his passion. With an involuntary gesture Gabriel carried his hand to the hilt of his missing sword. At that moment Lord Wentworth came in. As he had done on the first occasion, Gabriel, without uttering a word, led him to the window, and pointed out to him the accusing signature. THE ARMS, ROPES, AND TEARS OF PEUQUOY. 47 At first Lord Went worth turned pale ; then asserting that mastery over himself which he possessed in an eminent degree, — "Well," said he, "what is it?" " Is that not the name of the mad kinswoman whom you are obliged to hold under restraint here, my Lord ] " said Gabriel. "It may be so; what then?" retorted Lord Went- worth, haughtily. " If it be the case, my Lord, I know this kinswoman of yours, — a very distant relative, no doubt. I have seen her very often at the Louvre. I am her devoted slave, as every French gentleman should be of a daugh- ter of the house of France." "And then']" said Lord Wentworth. " Then, my Lord, I demand of you an explanation of your reason for retaining and treating as you do a prisoner of her station % " " And suppose I refuse, Monsieur, to oblige you with an explanation, as I have already refused the King of France 1 " " Refused the King of France ! " echoed Gabriel, in amazement. "To be sure," replied Lord Wentworth, with un- failing self-possession. " An Englishman, it seems to me, owes no explanation of his actions to a foreign mon- arch, especially when his own nation is at war with that monarch. So, Monsieur d'Exmes, what if I decline to be called to account by you as well V 9 " I should demand that you give me satisfaction, my Lord," cried Gabriel. " And you would hope to kill me, no doubt," replied the governor, " with the sword which you only wear by 48 THE TWO DIANAS. my leave, and which I have the right to demand of you at this moment." " Oh, my Lord ! my Lord ! 99 cried Gabriel, in a fury of passion, "you shall pay me for this too." " So be it, Monsieur," replied Lord Wentworth ; " and I will not deny my debt when you have settled yours." " Powerless ! " fairly shrieked Gabriel, wringing his hands, — " powerless at the very moment when I should like the strength of ten thousand men ! " "It is really pretty hard for you," Lord Wentworth continued, " that propriety and law alike bind your hands ; but you must confess that it would be altogether too convenient a way for a prisoner of war and a debtor to obtain his freedom and discharge his debt simply by cutting the throat of his creditor and his foe." " My Lord," said Gabriel, struggling to recover his self-controT, " you know that I sent my squire to Paris a month since to procure the sum of money which causes you so much anxiety. Can Martin-Guerre have been wounded or slain on the road, in spite of your safe- conduct 1 Has he been robbed of the money he was bringing me? That is what I cannot say. The sad fact is that he does not return ; and I had just come to beg you to let me send another messenger to Paris, since you have no faith in the word of a gentleman, and have never offered to let me go myself to procure my ransom. Now, .my Lord, you no longer have the right to refuse me what I ask, or rather I have the right now to say that you fear to have me at liberty and that you don't dare to give me back my sword." " To whom would you say that, pray," said Lord Wentworth, " in an English city under my immediate authority, and where you should be looked upon in no other light than as a prisoner and an enemy]" THE ARMS, ROPES, AND TEARS OF PEUQUOY. 49 " I would cry it aloud, my Lord, to every man who has sense and feeling ; to every man who has a noble heart or a noble name ; to your officers, who under- stand affairs in which honor is involved ; to your work- men even, whom their instinct would enlighten. And all would agree with me against you, my Lord, that in not granting me the means of leaving this place, you have shown your unfitness to be the commander of gallant soldiers." " But you don't reflect, Monsieur/' was Lord Went- worth's cold response, " that rather than let you spread the spirit of mutiny among my men, I have only to say the word, only to raise my hand, to have you cast into a dungeon where you could accuse me only to the deaf and speechless walls." " Alas ! that is too true, ten thousand tempests ! " muttered Gabriel, with compressed lips and clinched fists. The man of sensibility and emotion was being shat- tered against the impassibility of the man of iron and brass. But a single word changed the whole face of affairs, and at once put Gabriel and Wentworth on an equal footing again. "Dear Diane! dear Diane!" said the younger man, in his anguish ; " to be able to do nothing for you in your hour of need ! " " What did you say, Monsieur 1 " asked Lord Went- worth, trembling. "You said, I think, 'dear Diane I ' Did you say it, or did I misunderstand you] Can it be that you too love Madame de Castro ] " " Well, then, if I must say it, I do indeed love her ! " cried Gabriel. " You love her too, you say ! But my love is as pure and devoted as yours is base and VOL. II — 4 50 THE TWO DIANAS. cruel. Yes, before God and His angels I love her to adoration." " What was all that you said, then, about the daughter of France, and the protection that every French gentle- man owed to such an one in misfortune'?" rejoined Lord Wentworth, quite beside himself. " Ah ! you love her, do you ] And you are the man whom she loves, no doubt ; and whose memory she invokes when she wishes to torment me. You are the man for love of whom she despises mine ! the man without whom she might love me perhaps ! Ah ! are you the man whom she loves % " Lord Wentworth, but a short time before so mocking and disdainful, now regarded the man who was honored by Diane's affection with a sort of respectful terror ; while Gabriel, on hearing his rival's words, raised his glad and triumphant face ever higher and higher. "Ah, indeed she does love me, then ! " cried he; "she still thinks of me ! She calls for me, you say ? Oh, well, if she calls for me, why, I will go to her, — yes, help her and rescue her. Come, my Lord, take my sword, gag me, bind me, imprison me, and I shall still find a way to help her and save her, since she still loves me, my saintly Diane ! Since she still loves me, I dare you and defy you ; and though you have arms in your hands and I am unarmed, I am sure of overcoming you, with Diane's love for my buckler." " True, true ; I can well believe it," muttered Lord Wentworth, overwhelmed. " Thus it would no longer be generous in me to chal- lenge you to single combat," said Gabriel ; " so call your guards and tell them to confine me, if you choose. To be in prison near her and at the same time would be of itself a sort of happiness." A long silence ensued. THE ARMS, ROPES, AND TEARS OF PEUQUOY. 51 At last Lord Wentworth said, with much apparent hesitation, " You asked me, I believe, to allow a second messenger to set oat for Paris to procure your ransom]" " Such was my purpose, my Lord, when I called upon you." " In your discourse you seem to have reproached me," continued the governor, "for not having had faith in your honor as a gentleman, and for refusing to allow you to go yourself to procure your money, with your word for my security ] " €t Very true, my Lord." " Well, Monsieur," said Wentworth, "you may set out to-day ; the gates of Calais will be opened to you ; your request is granted." " I understand," said Gabriel, bitterly, — " you wish to separate me from her. But suppose I refuse to leave Calais now ] " " I am master here, Monsieur," was Lord Wentworth's reply ; " and it is not for you to refuse or to accept my commands, but to submit to them." u Very well, then," said Gabriel, " I will go, my Lord, but without any especial gratitude for your generosity, I warn you.'* Ci Nor have I any need of your thanks, Monsieur." " I will go," said Gabriel ; " but be sure that I shall not long remain your debtor, and that I shall soon come back, my Lord, to pay all my debts at once. * Then I shall no longer be your prisoner, nor will you be my creditor, and there will no longer be any reason why the sword which I w T ear should not cross with yours." "I might refuse this combat, Monsieur," said Lord Wentworth, rather gloomily; " for the chances between us would not be equal. If I should kill you, she would hate me all the more bitterly ; whereas if you should kill me, 52 THE TWO DIANAS. the result would be to make her love you the more dearly. But uo matter, I must and do accept. But are you not afraid," he added sombrely, " of driving me to extremities 1 When almost all the advantage is with you, might I not be justified in making an unfair use of those which I can still call my own 1 ?" " God on high and the nobility of every country on earth would be your judges, my Lord," said Gabriel, shuddering, " if you should be such a coward as to wreak your vengeance upon those whom you are unable to van- quish, by oppressing those who are unable to defend themselves." After a pause, Lord Went worth said, — " It is three o'clock, Monsieur, and you have until seven — the hour when the inner gates are closed — to make your preparations and leave the town. I will mean- while give my orders that you be allowed to pass free.'' " At seven o'clock, my Lord, I shall have left Calais." " And be sure," resumed Wentworth, " that you shall never re-enter it again alive, and that even if you should succeed in slaying me in single combat without the walls, my precautions will be taken, and well taken (you may trust my jealousy for that), so that you shall never possess — nay, you shall never even see Madame de Castro again." Gabriel had already taken some steps on his way from the room; he stopped at the door on hearing these last words. " What you say is quite impossible, my Lord," he re- joined ; " for it is very necessary that I should see Diane again, sooner or later." " However, it shall not be, Monsieur, I swear to you, if the will of the governor of a city or the last w T ords of a dying man are to be respected." THE ARMS, ROPES, AND TEARS OF PEUQUOY. 53 " It shall be, my Lord, — I know not - how, but I am sure of it." " In that case, Monsieur," said Wentworth, with a scornful smile, " you will have to take Calais by assault." Gabriel reflected a moment. " I will take Calais by assault, my Lord," said he. " Au revoir / " He saluted and left the room, leaving Lord Wentworth as if turned to stone, and in doubt as to whether he ought to smile or be alarmed. Gabriel returned at once to the house of Pierre Peuquoy. He found Pierre polishing the hilt of his sword, Jean making knots in his rope, and Babette sighing. He repeated to his friends the conversation he had had with the governor, and announced his approaching de- parture. Not even did he conceal from them the pos- sibly reckless remark with which he had taken leave of Lord Wentworth. Then he said, — " Now I am going to my room to make my prepara- tions, and I leave you to your swords, Pierre • you, Jean, to your ropes ; and you to your sighs, Babette." He went, as he had said, to put everything in order for his departure in all haste. Now that he was free, time seemed to creep along until he could get to Paris to rescue his father, and return to Calais to rescue Diane. When he left his room half an hour later, he found Babette on the landing. " Are you going, Monsieur le Yicomte ] " she asked. " Shall you no more ask me why I weep so much 1 " " No, my child ; for I hope that when I come back you will have ceased to weep." .34 THE TWO DIANAS. " I hope so too, Monseigneur," said Babette. u You ex- pect to come back, then, do you, in spite of the governor's threats 1 " " I promise you that I will, Babette.'' " And your squire, Martin-Guerre, too, I suppose I n " Yes, to be sure." "Are you sure that you will find Martin-Guerre at Paris, however. Monsieur d'Exmes?" rejoined the young girl. " He is not a dishonest man, is he 1 Of course he hasn't appropriated your ransom? He is not capable of an act of — infidelity i " " I would be willing to take my oath to his loyalty," said Gabriel, rather surprised at these questions. " Mar- tin has an uncertain disposition, especially since a short time ago : and it is as if there were two different men in his body, — one simple-minded, and very quiet in his ways : the other crafty and noisy. But aside from this variable character, he is a trusty and faithful servant. " " And no more likely to betray a woman than to de- ceive his master, is he?" "Oh, that is another matter." said Gabriel; "and I confess that I would not answer for him there." " Well, then, Monseigneuiy" said poor Babette, turn- ing pale, " will you be kind enough to hand him this ring? He will know from whom it comes and what it means." ,; I will give it to him, Babette," said Gabriel, recalling the last evening before his squire's departure, — "I will give it to him : but the person who sends it knows, I pre- sume, that Martin-Guerre is married." "Married!" shrieked Babette. " Then, Monseigneur, keep the ring. — throw it away, do anything with it, rather than give it to him." " But, Babette — " THE ARMS, ROPES, AND TEARS OF PEUQUOY. 55 " Thanks, Monseigneur, and adieu ! " whispered the poor child. She made her escape to the second floor, and had hardly got to her chamber and fallen upon a chair when she fainted. Gabriel, grieved and anxious over the suspicion which then first crossed his mind, descended the staircase of the old house, deep in thought. At the foot of the stairs he met Jean Peuquoy, who came up to him with a very mysterious air. " Monsieur le Vicomte," said the burgher, in a low voice, "you are continually asking me why I am making ropes of such length. I cannot allow you to depart, after your admirably worded farewell to Lord Wept worth, without imparting to you the key to the riddle. By joining together with small transverse cords two long, strong ropes, as the one I am making, Monseigneur, one obtains a ladder of great length and strength. This ladder, when one is a member of the civic guard, as Pierre has been for twenty years, and I for three days, can easily be conveyed in sec- tions and placed under the sentry-box on the platform of the Octagonal Tower. Then, some dark morning in De- cember or January, just for curiosity's sake, we might when on sentry duty attach an end of each rope firmly to these pieces of iron when they are cemented into the battlements, and let the other ends drop into the sea, some three hundred feet below, where some hardy boatman might chance to find himself at that moment." " But, my dear Jean — " interrupted Gabriel. " Never mind that, Monsieur le Vicomte," rejoined the weaver. " But if you will excuse me, I should like be- fore you leave to give you something as a souvenir of your devoted servant, Jean Peuquoy. Here is a sort of plan of the walls and fortifications of Calais. I have 56 THE TWO DIANAS. made it for my own amusement, during those everlasting walks that have surprised you so. Hide it under your doublet, and when you are at Paris look at it now and then for my sake, I beg you." Gabriel tried to interrupt again, but Jean gave him no time ; pressing the hand which the young man held out to him, he took his leave with these words : — " Au revoir, Monsieur d'Exmes. You will find Pierre waiting at the door to pay his respects to you ; they will supplement mine." Pierre was standing in front of his house, holding Gabriel's horse by the bridle. " Thanks for your kind hospitality, Master," said the viscount. " I shall very soon send you, even if I do not bring it myself, the money which you have been polite enough to advance me, I will add to it, if you please, a slight gratuity for your people. Meanwhile, be good enough to offer your dear sister this little brilliant on my behalf." " 1 accept it for her," said the armorer, "on the condi- tion that you will accept in return something in my line, — this horn which I have hung to your saddle-bow. I made it with my own hands ; and I should recognize its blast even over the roaring of the stormy ocean, — for in- stance, on any of the mornings of the 5th of each month, when I am on guard from four o'clock to six, on the Oc- tagonal Tower, which faces the sea." " Thanks ! " said Gabriel, pressing Pierre's hand in a way which showed that he understood him. "As to these arms, which you have wondered to see me making in such great quantities," continued Pierre, " I am inclined to be sorry that I have such a large stock on hand ; for if Calais should be besieged some day, the faction among us which still sympathizes with France THE ARMS, ROPES, AND TEARS OF PEUQUOY. 57 might get possession of these arms, and make a dangerous diversion in the very heart of the city." " Very true ! " cried Gabriel, pressing the brave citizen's hand with still greater warmth. "With this I wish you a pleasant journey and good luck, Monsieur d'Exmes," said Pierre. " Adieu, and to our speedy meeting ! " " To our speedy meeting ! " said Gabriel. He turned and waved a last farewell to Pierre as he stood upon his threshold ; to Jean, who had his head out of a window on the first floor ; and to Babette too, who was watching his departure from behind a curtain on the second floor. Then he put spurs to his horse, and was off at a gallop. Orders had been sent to the city gate by Lord Went- worth, and no objection was made to the departure of the prisoner, who soon found himself well on the road to Paris, alone with his anxiety and his hopes. Would he be able to effect his father's deliverance on his arrival at Paris ; or Diane de Castro's on his return to Calais? 58 THE TWO DIANAS. CHAPTER V. SEQUEL TO THE MISFORTUNES OF MARTIN-GUERRE. The roads of France were no safer for Gabriel than for his squire; and he was obliged to exert all his wit and quickness of intellect to avoid obstacles and delays. In fact, it was not till the fourth day after leaving Calais, notwithstanding all his haste, that he finally reached Paris. But the dangers of the journey caused Gabriel less anxiety, on the whole, than his uneasiness with regard to its termination. Although he was not naturally much addicted to dreaming, his lonely journey almost forced him to think unceasingly of his father's captivity and Diane's, of his means of rescuing those dear and cherished beings, of the king's promise, and of what he must do if Henri failed to keep it. But no ! It was not to such an end that Henri II. was the first gentleman of Christen- dom. The fulfilment of his oath was, no doubt, painful to him ; very likely he was awaiting Gabriel's return to remind him of it before issuing his pardon to the old count ; but surely he would pardon him. And if he did not? Gabriel, whenever that desolating thought crossed his mind, felt as if a sword were piercing his heart. He would drive his spurs into his horse, and put his hand to his sword ; and generally it was the sad and sweet thought of Diane de Castro which would remove his anger and soothe his troubled soul. THE MISFORTUNES OF MARTIN-GUERRE. 59 It was with a mind harrowed by doubt and anguish that he at last reached the gates of Paris on the morning of the fourth day. He had travelled all night ; and the pale light of dawn was just beginning to break as he rode through the streets in the neighborhood of the Louvre. He drew rein before the royal mansion, still closed and silent, and asked himself whether he should wait there or go on ; but his impatience made him loathe the thought of doing nothing. He determined to go at once to his own house, Rue des Jardins St. Paul, where he might at least hope to hear some tidings of what he feared at the same time that he longed to know. His road thither took him by the frowning turrets of the Chatelet. He stopped for a moment before the sinister portal. A cold perspiration bedewed his forehead. His past and his future lay hidden behind those humid walls; but Gabriel was not the man to allow his feelings to monopo- lize much time which he might usefully devote to action. He therefore shook off his gloomy thoughts, and went on his way, saying simply, " Allons I " When he reached his home, which he had not seen for so long a time, a light was shining through the windows of the lower hall. The zealous Aloyse was already astir. Gabriel knocked, uttering his name at the same time. Two minutes after he was in the arms of the worthy soul who had been like a mother to him. " Ah ! is it really you, Monseigneur 1 Is it really you, my own dear boy 1 " She could find strength to say no more than that. Gabriel, having embraced her most affectionately, drew back a step Or two, the better to look at her. 60 THE TWO DIANAS. There was in his look an unspoken question clearer than words could make it. Aloyse understood, and yet she hung her head, and made no reply. " Is there no news from the court, then ]" the viscount asked at length, as if not content with the answer implied by her silence. "Nothing, Monseigneur," replied the nurse. " Oh, I expected as much ! If anything had occurred, good or bad, you would not have failed to tell me at the first kiss. Do you know nothing V "Alas! no." " I see how it is," rejoined the young man, bitterly. " I was a prisoner, — dead perhaps ! One does not pay his indebtedness to a prisoner, much less to a dead man. But I am here now, alive and free, and there must be a reckoning with me : whether willingly or by force, it must and shall be ! " "Oh, be careful, Monseigneur!" cried Aloyse. " Have no fear, nurse. Is Monsieur TAmiral at Paris 1 " " Yes, Monseigneur. He has called and sent here ten times to learn if you had returned." " Good ! And Monsieur de Guise % " " He also has returned. It is to him that the people are looking to repair the misfortuues of France and the suffering of the citizens." "God grant," said Gabriel, "that he find no sufferings for which there is no remedy ! " "As to Madame de Castro, who was supposed to be dead," continued Aloyse, hurriedly, "Monsieur le Conne- table has discovered that she is a prisoner at Calais ; and they hope soon to effect her release." "I knew it, and, like them, I hope so," said Gabriel, THE MISFORTUNES OF MARTIN-GUERRE. 61 meaningly. " But," he resumed, "you say nothing of the reason why my captivity has been so prolonged, — nothing of Martin-Guerre and his delayed return. What has become of Martin, pray ? " " He is here, Monseigneur, the sluggard, the dolt ! 99 " What ! Here ? How long has he. been here ? What is he doing ? " " He is upstairs, in bed and asleep/' said Aloyse, who seemed to speak of Martin with some bitterness. " He says that he is not very well, pretending that he has been hanged ! " " Hanged ! " cried Gabriel. " For stealing the money for my ransom, — is that it?" "The money for your ransom, Monseigneur? You just say a word to that threefold idiot about the money for your ransom ! You will see what answer he will make. He will not know what you mean. Just imagine, Monseigneur, he arrived here, very eager, and in great haste ; and after reading your letter, I counted out to him ten thousand beautiful crowns. Away he went again, without losing a moment. A few dajd later whom should I see coming back but Martin-Guerre, crestfallen and with a most pitiful expression. He claimed that he had not received a sou from me. Hav - ing been taken prisoner himself some time before the fall of St. Quentin, he had no idea, he said, of your where- abouts for three months past. You had intrusted no mission to him. He had been beaten and hung ! He had succeeded in making his escape, and had just re- turned to Paris for the first time since the w^ar. Such are the romances with which Martin-Guerre entertains us from morning till night when your ransom is mentioned." u Explain yourself, nurse," said Gabriel. " Martin- Guerre could not have appropriated that money, I would 62 THE TWO DIANAS. take my oath. He surely is not a dishonest man, and be is loyally devoted to me." M No, Monseigneur, he is not dishonest ; but he is mad, I am afraid, — so mad that he hasn't an idea or a mem- ory ; sufficiently insane to require care, believe me. Al- though he may not be vicious yet, he is dangerous, to say the least. I am not the only one who saw him here either, for all your people overwhelm him with their tes- timony. He really received the ten thousand crowns, which Master Elyot had some difficulty in getting to- gether for me at such short notice." 66 Nevertheless/' said Gabriel, " Master Elyot must get together as much more, and even more quickly : indeed, I must have a still larger sum. But we need not worry about that at present. It is broad daylight at last. I am going to the Louvre now to speak with the king. ,, " What, Monseigneur ! without a moment's rest I " sard Aloyse. " Besides, you forget that it is only seven o'clock and that you would find the doors closed ; they are barely opened at nine." " That's true," said Gabriel, — "two hours more to wait ! Give me the patience to wait two hours, 0 Lord, as I have already waited two months ! At all events, I shall be able to find Monsieur de Coligny and Monsieur de Guise," he continued. " No, for in all likelihood they are at the Louvre," said Aloyse. "Besides, the king doesn't receive before noon, and you cannot see him earlier than that, I fear. So you will have three hours to converse with Monsieur l'Amiral, and Monsieur le Lieutenant-General of the kingdom, — that, you know, is the new title with which the king at the present grave crisis has clothed Monsieur de Guise. Meanwhile, -Monsieur, you surely will not re- fuse to eat something, and to receive your old and faith- THE MISFORTUNES OF MARTI N-GUERRE. 63 fill servants, who have so long wished in vain for your return." Just at this moment — as if to occupy the young man's mind and effectually beguile his weary waiting — Martin- Guerre, apprised doubtless of his master's arrival, burst into the room, paler even from joy than from the suffer- ing he had undergone. " What ! Is it you % Is it really yourself, Mon- seigneuH" he cried. "Ob, what happiness!" But Gabriel gave a very cold reception to the poor squire's transports of delight. " If by good luck I am here at last, Martin," said he, "you must agree that it is not by your efforts; for you did your very best to leave me a prisoner forever." " What ! you too, Monseigneur ! " said Martin, in consternation. " You too, instead of putting me right at the first word, as I hoped, accuse me of having had those ten thousand crowns. Who knows what will come next % Perhaps you will even go so far as to say that you com- missioned me to receive them and bring them to you % " " Of course I did," said Gabriel, quite stupefied with surprise. " So, then," rejoined the poor squire, in a dull voice, "you believe me, Martin-Guerre, to be capable of basely appropriating money which did not belong to me, — money designed to procure my master's liberty ] " " No, Martin, no," replied Gabriel, earnestly, touched by the tone in which his faithful servant spoke. " My suspicions have never, I swear, led me to suspect your honesty; and Aloyse and I were just saying that very thing. But the money was stolen from you or you lost it on the road when you were coming back to me." "Coming back to you !" echoed Martin. "But where, Monseigneur'? Since we left St. Quentin together may 64 THE TWO DIANAS. God strike me dead if I know where you have been ! Where was I to come back to you ! " " At Calais. Martin. However light and foolish your brain may be, you surely can't have forgotten Calais ! 13 " How in the world could I forget what I never knew? " said Martin-Guerre, calmly. " Why, you miserable wretch, do you mean to perjure yourself in that matter 1 " cried Gabriel. He said in a low voice a few words to the nurse, who thereupon left the room. Then he approached Martin. " How about Babette, Migrate!" said he. "Babette! What Babette 1" asked the wondering squire. " The one you ruined, villain." " Oh, yes ! — Gudule ! " said Martin. " You are wrong about the name. It is Gudule, Monseigneur, not Babette. Oh, yes, poor girl ! But I tell you honestly that I did not lead her astray ; she had fallen before. I swear to that." " What ! still another! " rejoined Gabriel. " But this last one I know nothing about ; and whoever she may be, she can have no such cause of complaint as Babette Peuquoy." Martin-Guerre did not dare to lose his patience ; but if he had been of equal rank with the viscount, he would not have kept himself so well in hand. " One moment, Monseigneur," said he. " They all say here that I am mad ; and by Saint Martin ! I verily believe I shall go mad just from hearing myself called so. However, I still have my reason and my memory, or the deuce take me ! And in case of need, Monseigneur, al- though I have had to undergo harsh treatment and misery sufficient for two, — still, in case of need, I will narrate to you faithfully from point to point everything THE MISFORTUNES OF MARTIN-GUERRE. 65 that has befallen me during the three months that have elapsed since I parted from you. At least," he has- tened to add, " so much of it as I remember in my own person." " To tell the truth, I should be very glad to hear how you account for your extraordinary conduct," said Gabriel. " Very well ! Monseigneur, after we left St. Quentin together to join Monsieur de Vaulpergues's relieving party, and after we had separated, each to take a different road (as you must remember), events happened just as you had foreseen. I fell into the hands of the enemy. I tried, as you had enjoined upon me, to pay my way with im- pudence ; but a most extraordinary thing occurred, — the soldiers claimed to recognize me as having been their prisoner before ! " " Come, come ! " said Gabriel, interrupting him; "see how you are wandering already ! " " Oh, Monseigneur," resumed Martin, " in the name of mercy, let me tell my story as I know it ! It is diffi- cult for me to understand matters myself. You may criticise when I am done. As soon as the enemy recog- nized me, Monseigneur, I confess that I resigned myself to my fate; for I knew — and in reality you yourself know as well as I, Monseigneur — that there are two of me, and that very often, and without giving me any warning whatever, my other self makes me do li is pleas- ure. Perhaps I should say, then, ' We accepted our fate ; ' for hereafter I shall speak of myself — of us, that is — in the plural. Gudule — a pretty little Flemish girl, whom we had carried off — also recognized us, which cost us, I may say parenthetically, a perfect hailstorm of blows. Truly, we ourselves alone failed to recognize ourselves. To tell you all the misery which followed, and into the VOL. II. — 5 66 THE TWO DIANAS. hands of how many different masters, all endowed with different dialects, your unfortunate squire fell, one after the other, would take too long, Monseigneur." " Yes ; pray shorten your self-condolence." " I pass over these and worse sufferings. My number two, I was informed, had already escaped once ; and they beat me almost to a jelly for his fault. My number one — whose conscience I have in my keeping, and whose martyrdom I am relating to you — succeeded in escaping once more, but was foolish enough to allow himself to be caught, and was left for dead on the spot, notwithstand- ing which I ran away a third time ; but being entrapped a third time, by the double treason of too much wine and a chance acquaintance, I showed fight, and laid about me with all the fury of despair and drunkenness. In short, after having mocked me and tortured me most of the night in most barbarous fashion, my executioners hanged me toward morning." " Hanged you ! " exclaimed Gabriel, believing that the squire's mania was surely becoming hopeless. " They hanged you. Martin! What do you mean by that V\ " I mean, Monseigneur, that they hoisted me up be- tween earth and sky at the end of a hempen cord, which was firmly attached to a gibbet, otherwise called a gal- lows ; and in all the tongues and patois.with which they have belabored my ears that is commonly called being hanged, Monseigneur. Do I make myself clear 1 " " None too clear, Martin ; for to tell the truth, for a man that has been hanged — " "I am in pretty good condition now, Monseigneur, — that 's a fact ; but you have not heard the end of the story yet. My suffering and my rage, when I saw myself being hanged, almost made me lose my consciousness. When I came to myself, I was stretched on the fresh grass, with THE MISFORTUNES OF MARTIN-G (JERRE. 67 the cord, which had been cut, still about my neck. Had some soft-hearted passer-by, moved by my plight, chosen to relieve the gallows of its human fruit] My misan- thropy actually forbade my thinking that. I am more inclined to believe that some thief must have longed to plunder me, and cut the cord so that he might go through my pockets at his ease. The fact that my wedding-ring and my papers had been stolen justify me, I think, in making that assertion without doing injustice to the human race. However, I had been cut down in time ; and despite a slight dislocation of my neck, I succeeded in escaping a fourth time, through woods and across the fields, hiding all day, and travelling with the greatest care at night, living on roots and wild herbs, — a most unsatisfactory diet, to which even the poor cattle must find great difficulty in getting accustomed. At last, after losing my way a hundred times, I succeeded in reaching Paris at the end of a fortnight, and in finding this house, where I arrived twelve days since, and where I have received rather a less hearty welcome than I ex- pected, after such a rough experience. There is my story, Monseigneur." " Well, now," said Gabriel, " as an offset to this story of yours, I can tell you quite a different one (entirely different, in fact), the details of which I have seen you perform with my own eyes." "Is it the story of my number two, Monseigneur V 9 asked Martin, coolly. " Upon my word, if I may make so bold, and if you would be so kind as to tell it to me in a few words, I should be only too glad to hear it." " Do you mock me, scoundrel? " said Gabriel. " Oh, Monseigneur knows my profound respect for him ! But, strangely enough, this double of mine has caused me a vast deal of trouble, has he not ? He has 68 THE TWO DIANAS. led me into some cruel plights. Well, in spite of all that, I don't know why, but I am greatly interested in him. I believe, upon my word of honor, that in the end I shall be weak enough to love the blackguard ! " " Blackguard indeed ! " said Gabriel. The viscount may have been about to enter upon a catalogue of Arnauld du Thill's misdeeds ; but he was interrupted by his nurse, who returned to the room, fol- lowed by a man in the garb of a peasant. " Well, what does this mean ? " said Aloyse. " Here is a man who claims that he was sent here to announce your death, Martin-Guerre ! " MARTIN-GUERRE'S CHARACTER REHABILITATED. 69 CHAPTER VT. IN WHICH MARTIN-GUERRE's CHARACTER BEGINS TO BE REHABILITATED. "My death!" ejaculated Martin, turning pale at Dame Aloyse's terrible words. " Oh, God be merciful unto me ! " cried the peasant, as soon as he cast his eye upon the squire. " Can it be that my other self is dead 1 God be praised ! " said Martin. " Am I at last relieved from this continual changing back and forth 1 Bah ! On the whole, upon reflection, I should be a little sorry if it is so, but still reasonably satisfied. Why don't you speak, friend 1 Speak ! " he added, addressing himself to the bewildered peasant. " Ah, Master," replied the latter, when he had looked closely at Martin and touched him with his hands, " how does it happen that you are here before me 1 I swear to you, Master, that I came as quickly as a man could come to do your errand, and earn the ten crowns ; and unless you came in the saddle, Master, it is absolutely impossible for you to have passed me on the road, and in that case I must have seen you." " To be sure ; but, my good fellow, I never saw you before," said Martin-Guerre ; " and yet you talk as if you knew me ! " " As if I knew you ! " said the stupefied peasant. t( Do you mean to say that you did n't send me here to say that Martin-Guerre had been hanged and was dead]" 70 THE TWO DIANAS. " What ! Martin-Guerre ! Why, I am Martin- Guerre." " You 1 Impossible ! How could you have told of your own hanging'?" rejoined the peasant, " But why, where, and when did I tell you of such an atrocity 1 " asked Martin. " Must I tell you the precise facts now ? " said the peasant. " Yes, everything.'' " Notwithstanding the fact that you made up a story for me to tell." " Yes ; never mind that now." " Well, then, since your memory is so short, I will tell you everything. So much the worse for you if you force me to do it ! Six days ago, in the morning, I was at work hoeing my field — " " Before you go any further, where is your field 1 " asked Martin. " Do you want me to tell you the real truth, Master % " said the peasant. " W 7 hy, of course I do, you beast ! " " Well, then, my field is behind Montargis ! I was at work when you came along the road, with a travelling- bag on your back." " 1 Well, well, my friend/ said you, ( what are you do- ing ? Come, why don't you speak ] ' " ' 1 am hoeing, Master. I am ready to answer your questions.' " 4 How much does this work of yours pay you V " ' Year in and year out, about four sous a day.' " 6 Would you like to earn twenty crowns in two weeks ? ' " 6 Oh, oh ! ' " ' Say yes or no.' martin-guerre's character rehabilitated. 71 " ' Yes, indeed, I should/ " 6 Well, you must go at once to Paris. By making good speed, you will arrive in five or six days, at the latest. Ask your way to Eue des Jardins St. Paul, and find the house of Vicomte d'Exmes. It is to that house that I want you to go. The viscount will not he there ; hut you will find a good old soul called Aloyse, his nurse ; and this is what you must say to her. Now, listen carefully ! You will say : "I am from Noyon " (Noyon, you under- stand, not Montargis). — "I am from Noyon, where one of your acquaintances was hanged a fortnight since. His name was Martin-Guerre." (Be sure to remember that name Martin-Guerre). " Martin-Guerre has been hanged, after being robbed of the money he had about him, so that he might not complain of the robbery. But before he was taken to the gallows Martin-Guerre had time to beg me to come and let you. know of his ill-fortune, so that, as he said, you might provide a new supply of money for his master's ransom. He promised me that you would give me ten crowns for my trouble. I waited until he was hanged, and then I came away." " ' There, that is what you are to say to the good woman. Do you understand]' you asked me. "'Yes, Master," I replied; 'only you said twenty crowns in the first place, and now you only speak of ten.' " 4 Fool ! ' said you, ' here are the other ten in advance.' '"Very good/ I rejoined. 'But suppose this Aloyse asks me to describe the appearance of Martin-Guerre, for I never saw him, and I ought to be able to tell how he looks.' " 6 Look at me.' " I looked at you. 72 THE TWO DIANAS. " ' Very well ; now you can describe Martin-Guerre, as if it were myself.' " "How strange ! " muttered Gabriel, who bad been lis- tening to this narration with most profound attention. "Now," continued the peasant, "I am here, Master, ready to repeat the lesson you taught me (for you said it to me twice, and I know it by heart), and I find you here before me ! It is very true that I loitered on the road, and drank up your ten crowns in the roadside caba- rets, because I expected 'soon to have the other ten in my pocket ; but at all events I am within the time you fixed. You gave me six days, and it was just six days ago that I left Montargis." " Six days ! " said Martin-Guerre, sadly and thought- fully. " I came through Montargis six days ago ! I was on the road to my own province six days ago ! Your story is extremely probable, my friend/' he continued, " and I believe it implicitly." " But no ! " Aloyse eagerly interposed, " this man is evidently a liar, when he claims to have talked with you at Montargis six days ago, for you have not been out of these doors for twelve days." " Yery true," said Martin ; "but my number two — " "Then again," continued the nurse, "he says that it is only a fortnight since you were hanged at Noyon ; while according to your own words it was a month ago." " Yes, it certainly was," said the squire ; " I was think- ing when I woke this morning that it was just a month to-day. However, my other self — " " Oh. nonsense ! " cried the nurse. "It seems to me," Gabriel interposed, "that this man has finally put us upon the right track." " Oh, indeed you are not mistaken, kind sir," said the peasant. " Shall I receive my ten crowns % " martin-guerre's character rehabilitated. 73 "Yes," said Gabriel; "but you must leave your name and address with us. We may have need of your testimony some day. I begin to detect some very evil doings, although my suspicions are not yet clearly defined." " But, Monseigneur — " Martin began to remonstrate. Gabriel interrupted him sharply. " Enough of that ! " said he. "Do you see to it, good Aloyse, that this man goes his way content. This matter shall be attended to in due time. But, do you know," he added, lowering his voice, " that I may perhaps have to take my revenge for treachery to the master before I deal with the treachery to the squire." " Alas ! " muttered Aloyse. "It is now eight o'clock," continued Gabriel. "I shall not see my good people until my return ; for I must be at the doors of the Louvre when they are opened. Even though I may not be able to obtain an audience of the king until noon, I can at least have some conversa- tion with the admiral and Monsieur de Guise." "And when you have seen the king, you will return here at once, will you not % " asked Aloyse. " At once ; don't you be anxious about me, my good nurse. Something seems to tell me that I shall come out victoriously from all these dark plots which intrigue and impudence are weaving around me." "Indeed you will, if God heeds my earnest prayer," said Aloyse. " I go," rejoined Gabriel. " You remain here, Martin, for I must go alone. Come, come, my good fellow, w r e shall justify you and deliver you from your other self in good time ; but you see I have another justification and another deliverance to accomplish first of all. To our speedy meeting, Martin ! au revoir, nurse ! " 74 THE TWO DIANAS. Each kissed the hand which the young man extended. Then he left the house, alone and on foot, wrapped in a great cloak, and with a grave and haughty mien directed his steps toward the Louvre. " Alas ! " thought the nurse, " even so I once saw his father depart, and he never returned." Just as Gabriel, after crossing the Pont au Change, was walking through the Place de Greve, he noticed a man, enveloped like himself in a cloak, which was how- ever of coarser material, and more carefully held in place than his own. More than that, this man w 7 as evidently trying to conceal his features beneath the broad brim of his hat. Gabriel, although he thought at first that he recognized the figure and carriage of a friend, nevertheless pursued his way \ but the unknown, as soon as he saw Vicomte d'Exmes, gave a sudden start, and after seeming to hesitate for a moment, stopped suddenly and said very cautiously, " Gabriel, my friend!" At the same time he half disclosed his face, and Gabriel saw that he had not been mistaken. " Monsieur de Coligny ! " he exclaimed, without however raising his voice. "You here! and at this hour ! " " Hush ! " said the admiral. " I confess that just at this moment I have no desire to be recognized and spied upon and followed. But when I saw you, my dear friend, after so long a separation, and so much anxiety on your account, I could not resist the temptation to accost you and grasp your hand. How long have you been in Paris V 9 " Only since this morning," said Gabriel; "and I was on my way to see you at the Louvre first of all." " Oh, well," said the admiral, " if you are not in too martin-guerre's character rehabilitated. 75 great haste, just walk a few steps with me. You must tell me what you have been about during your long absence." " I will tell you all that I can tell the most loyal and devoted of friends," Gabriel responded. " But first, Monsieur l'Amiral, I know you will allow me to ask you a question on a subject which is of more interest to me than anything else in the world." " I can imagine what that question will be," said the admiral. " But ought you not to be quite as well able to forecast my reply to it, my dear friend ] You propose to ask me, do you not, whether I kept my promise to you, — whether I told the king of the glorious and indispensable part which you had in the defence of St. Quentinl" " No, Monsieur FAmiral," Gabriel replied ; " really that is not what I was about to ask you ; for I know, and have learned to trust in your word, and I am perfectly certain that your first thought on your return to Paris was to fulfil your promise, and to declare generously to the king, and to the king alone, that my efforts counted for something in St. Quentin's long resistance. In fact, I have no doubt that you exaggerated my small services in your narration to his Majesty. Yes, Monsieur, I know all that without asking. But what I do not know, and what it is of the greatest moment that I should know, is the reply of Henri II. to your kind words." "Alas! Gabriel," said the admiral, " Henri made no other reply than to ask me what had become of you. I was very much puzzled what to tell him. The letter you left for me on your departure from St. Quentin was very far from explicit, and only reminded me of my promise. I told the king that I knew you had not fallen, but that you had been made prisoner in all probability, and from 76 THE TWO DIANAS. a feeling of delicacy had not wanted to inform me of it." " And to that the king — 1 " asked Gabriel, eagerly. " The king said, my dear friend : ' That is well ! ' and a smile of satisfaction hovered upon his lips. Then, when I was enlarging upon the magnificence of your feats of arms, and upon the obligations which you had laid upon France and her king, ' Enough of that ! ' Henri in- terposed, and haughtily changing the subject of conversa- tion, compelled me to speak of something else. ,, "Yes, that is just as I supposed it would be," said Gabriel, with bitter irony. "Courage, my friend!" rejoined the admiral. " Do you not remember that at St. Quentin I warned you that it was not safe to rely upon the gratitude of the great ones of the world 1 " " Oh, yes ! " said Gabriel, threateningly ; " it was all very well for the king to choose to forget when he hoped that I was dead or in prison ; but when I remind him of my rights, as I propose to do veiy soon, he will find that he has got to remember." " And suppose his memory persists in being defec- tive?" Risked Monsieur de Coligny. "Monsieur l'Amiral," said Gabriel, " when one has undergone an insult, one applies to the king to see jus- tice done. When the king himself offers the insult, one has no resource but to apply to God for vengeance." " I imagine, too," the admiral rejoined, " that if it should be necessary, you would constitute yourself the instrument of the divine vengeance." " You have said it, Monsieur." "In that case," Coligny resumed, " there is no better place nor time than the present to remind you of a con- versation we once had on the subject of the persecuted MARTIN-GUERRE ? S CHARACTER REHABILITATED. 77 religion, when I spoke to you of a sure means of punish- ing kings, while serving the cause of truth at the same time." "Oh, yes! our conversation was just in my mind," said Gabriel. " My memory does not fail me, you see. I may at some time resort to your means, Monsieur, — against Henri's successors perhaps, if not against him- self, since your remedy is equally efficacious against all kings." " That being so," the admiral continued, " can you give me an hour of your time now ? " " The king does not receive till noon ; my time belongs to you until that hour." " Come with me where I am going, then," said the ad- miral. " You are of gentle birth, and I have seen your character put to the proof, so I will demand no oath from you. Promise me simply that you will preserve absolute silence as to the people you are about to see, and the things that you hear." " I promise not to lisp a word," said Gabriel. "Follow me, then," said the admiral, "and if you meet with injustice at the Louvre, you will at least have your revenge in your own hands in advance ; follow me." Coligny and Gabriel crossed the Pont au Change and the Cite, and were swallowed up in the labyrinth of lanes and alleys which then existed in the neighborhood of Rue St. Jacques. : 78 THE TWO DIANAS. CHAPTEE VII. A PHILOSOPHER AND A SOLDIER. Coligny stopped at the beginning of Rue St. Jacques, before the low door of a house of mean exterior. He knocked : first a wicket in the door was opened, and then the door itself, when the invisible sentinel had recognized the admiral. Gabriel, following in the steps of his noble guide, passed through a long dark passage-way, and ascended three flights of worm-eaten stairs. When they were almost under the roof, Coligny knocked three times with his foot at the door of the highest and most wretched-looking apartment in the whole house. The door opened, and they went in. They found themselves in a room of considerable size, but gloomy, and quite bare. Two narrow windows — one looking upon Rue St. Jacques, and the other upon a back alley — admitted only a very uncertain light. There was no furniture save four stools and an oak table with twisted legs. At the admiral's entrance, two men, who seemed to be expecting him, rose to greet him ; a third remained discreetly apart, standing at the front window, and merely bowed low to Coligny from that distance. " Theodore," said the admiral to the two men who had welcomed him, " and you, Captain, I have brought with me to present to you a friend, who is at all events to be your friend — our friend — hereafter, if he cannot yet be so called." A PHILOSOPHER AND A SOLDIER. 79 The two strangers bowed silently to Vicomte d'Exmes. Then the younger, he who was called Theodore, began to talk with Coligny in a low tone, and with much anima- tion. Gabriel walked away a few steps to leave them more at liberty, and was thus able to scrutinize at his leisure the men to whom the admiral had presented him, but whose names even he did not know. The captain had the strongly marked features and de- termined bearing of a man of resolution and action. He was tall and dark and sinewy. One needed not to be a keen observer to read audacity in his expression ; eager, burning zeal, in the fire of his eyes ; and an energetic, forceful will, in his sternly compressed lips. The companion of this haughty adventurer was rather more like a courtier ; he was a graceful cavalier with a well-formed and jolly face, a keen glance, and refined and easy bearing. His dress, which was strictly in accord with the latest fashion, was in strong contrast with the garb of the captain, which was simple almost to the point of austerity. As for the third individual, who had remained standing at some distance from the others, his striking countenance could but attract notice despite his attitude of reserve ; his broad forehead and the piercing keenness of his eye were enough to indicate to the least observant the man of thought, and, let us say at once, the man of genius. Coligny, having exchanged a few words with his friend, drew near Gabriel. " I beg your pardon," said he ; " but I am not the only master here> and I had to consult my associates before disclosing to you where and in whose company you are." " Am I to know now?" asked Gabriel. " If you wish, my friend." 80 THE TWO DIANAS. " Where am T, pray 1 " " In the poor chamber where the son of the cooper of Noyon, Jean Calvin, held the first secret meetings of those of the Reformed religion, and whence he almost had to march to the stake. But to-day he is at Geneva, tri- umphant and almost omnipotent ; the crowned heads of the world have to reckon with him ; and the memory of him alone is enough to make the damp walls of this wretched hole more glorious than the golden arabesques of the Louvre." At the mention of the great name of Calvin, Gabriel bared his head. Although the impetuous youth had hardly concerned himself hitherto about matters of reli- gion or morals, yet he would have been far behind his age if the austere and toilsome life, the sublime and awe-inspiring character, the bold and imperious doctrines of the law-maker of the Reformed religion had not more than once engrossed his thoughts. However, he rejoined calmly, — " And who are these whom I. see around me in the venerated master's chamber 1 " " His disciples," was the admiral's reply, — " Theodore de Beze, his pen ; La Renaudie, his sword." Gabriel saluted the charming writer who was to be the historian of the Reformed Church, and the adventu- rous soldier who was to be the abettor of the Tumulte d'Amboise. Theodore de Beze returned Gabriel's salutation with the courteous grace which was natural to him, and said with a pleasant smile, — " Monsieur le Vicomte d'Exmes, although your intro- duction here has been accompanied with so many pre- cautions, pray do not look upon us as very dark and dangerous conspirators. I hasten to assure you that if A PHILOSOPHER AND A SOLDIER. 81 the leaders of our sect meet secretly here three times a week, it is only to exchange information as to the reli- gion, and to receive, it may be, a neophyte, who, as he believes in our principles, asks to share our perils ; or some man whom on account of his personal qualities we are anxious to win over to our cause. We are obliged to the admiral for bringing you hither, Monsieur le Vi- comte, for you are surely one of the latter class." "And I, gentlemen, am of the former," said the stranger, who had thus far stood aloof ; and as he spoke, he came forward rather shyly and modestly. " I am one of those humble dreamers upon whom the light of your principles has fallen in his darkness, and who longs for a closer view of them." " But it will not be long, Ambroise, ere you will be numbered among the most illustrious of our brother- hood," said La Kenaudie, speaking for the first time. " Yes, gentlemen," he continued, turning to Coligny and De Beze, " he whom I now present to you, still an humble practitioner, it is true, and still young, as you see, will nevertheless be in due time, I will answer for it, one of the bright and shining lights of the religion, for he is a great worker and a profound thinker ; and we may well exult that he has sought us out of his own will, for we shall point with pride to the name on our rolls of the surgeon Ambroise Pare." " Oh, Monsieur le Capitaine ! " exclaimed Ambroise. " By whom has Master Ambroise Pare been instructed in our principles % " asked Theodore de Beze. "By Chaudieu the minister, who introduced me to Monsieur de la Eenaudie," Ambroise replied. " And have you already made the solemn abjuration V " Not yet," replied the surgeon. " I desire to be entirely sincere, and not to take any vows except upon VOL. II. — 6 82 THE TWO DIANAS. thorough acquaintance with the matter. T confess that I still have some doubts ; and certain points are still too obscure forme to be able to join you irrevocably and without reservation. It is to have these cleared away that. I have longed to meet the leading men of the religion, and have made up my mind to go, if necessary, to Calvin himself ; for truth and liberty are the ruling passions of my life." " Well said ! " cried the admiral ; " and be assured, Master, that no one of us could ever wish to strike a blow at your rare and proud independence of thought." " What did I tell you 1 " rejoined La Renaudie, trium- phantly. "Will he not be an invaluable conquest for our faith ] I have seen Ambroise Pare in his library; I have seen him at the bedside of the sick (yes, I have seen him too on the battlefield) ; and everywhere, whether combating error and prejudice, or caring for the wounds and sufferings of his fellow-creatures, he is always thus, — calm, cool, superior to the vicissitudes of fortune, always master of others and of himself." Gabriel here interposed, much moved by what he saw and heard. " May I be allowed one word 1 I know now where I am ; and I can imagine what motive induced my generous friend, Monsieur de Goligny, to bring me to this house, where are met those whom King Henri calls his heretics, and looks upon as his mortal enemies. But I have cer- tainly more need to be educated in the faith than has Master Ambroise Pare. Like him, I have been a man of action ; but, alas ! I have done but little thinking, and he would be doing a great service to a new inquirer into all these new ideas, if he would consent to enlighten me as to the reasons or motives which have inclined his noble intellect to the Reformed sect." A PHILOSOPHER AND A SOLDIER. 83 " No interested motive at all," replied Ambroise Pare ; "for to succeed in my profession it would be for my interest to conform to the belief of the court and the princes. So it is not interested motives, but the force of reason, Monsieur le Vicomte, as you suggest : and if the illustrious persons before whom 1 am now speaking- authorize me so to do, I will try to set forth my reasons in a few words." "Goon! go on!" cried Coligny, La Renaudie, and Theodore de Beze at once "I will be brief," rejoined Ambroise, "for my time does not belong to me. In the first place, I tried to disentangle the leading idea of the Reform from all theories and formulas. The brushwood once cut away, these are the principles which I laid bare, for which I would most assuredly submit to persecution in every form." Gabriel was listening with admiration which he made no attempt to conceal, to this disinterested expounder of the truth. Ambroise Pare continued. " Religious and political domination, the Church and royalty, have hitherto substituted their regulations and their laws for the will and reasoning of the individual. The priest says to every man, i Believe this ; ' and the prince, * Do thus and so.' Now, matters have gone on in this way so long that men's minds remained as the minds of babes, and had perforce to lean upon this double discipline to make their way through life. But now we feel that we are strong, and hence we are. Nevertheless the prince and the priest, the Church and the king, are unwilling to lay down one jot of the authority which has become a principle of existence with them. It is against this anachronism of iniquity that the Reformed 84 THE TWO DIANAS. religion protests, in my view. Hereafter let every soul examine carefully its belief, and reason out its submission to this domination ; and then I believe we shall see the regeneration to which our efforts are devoted. Am I wrong, gentlemen 1 " " No, but you go too far and too fast," said Theodore de Beze ; " in this bold way of mingling politics and moral questions — " " Ah ! it is that very boldness which attracts me." Gabriel interrupted. " But it is not boldness ; it is logic ! " rejoined Ambroisa Pare. " How can that which is fair and just in the Church not be equally so in the State 1 How car you disavow as a rule of action that which you admit as a rule of thought 1 " "There is the spirit of revolution in the bold words you have uttered, Master," cried Coligny, thoughtfully. " Of revolution ? " Ambroise coolly rejoined. " Why, I am talking about revolution." The three leaders looked at one another in surprise. Their looks seemed to say, " This man is much stronger even than we supposed." Gabriel did not forget for a moment the engrossing anxiety of his whole life ; but he was now applying to it what he had just heard, and was lost in thought. Theodore de Beze said most earnestly to the outspoken surgeon, — "It is absolutely necessary that you should join us. What do you ask ? " " Nothing more than the privilege of conversing with you now and then, and of submitting to your intelligence and knowledge such difficulties as I still encounter. n " You shall have more than that," said Theodore de Beze; "you shall correspond directly with Calvin." A PHILOSOPHER AND A SOLDIER. 85 " Such an honor for me !" cried Ambroise Pare, flush- ing with delight. " Yes, it is essential that you should know him, and he you," rejoined the admiral. " Such a disciple as you are deserves a master like him. You hand your letters to your friend La Eenaudie, and we will see that they reach Geneva. We will also hand you his replies. They will not be long in coming. You have heard of Calvin's extraordinary powers of application ; and you will be satisfied." " Ah," said Ambroise Pare, " you give me my reward before I have done anything to merit it. How have I deserved so great a favor]" "By being what you are, my friend," said LaRenaudie. " I knew that you would win their hearts at the first stroke." " Oh, thank you, thank you a thousand times ! " Am- broise responded. "But," he added, "I regret to say that I must leave you, there are so many patients awaiting me." ' ' Go, go ! " said Theodore de Beze ; " your reasons are too sacred for us to try to keep you. Go ! Do what is right as you believe what is true." " But as you leave us," Coligny interposed, " rest as- sured that you leave none behind you but friends, or, as we say of those of our religion, ' brothers. 7 " Thus they took leave of him heartily and cordially ; and Gabriel, warmly pressing his hand, was not behind- hand in this friendly parting. Ambroise Pare went his way, with joy and pride in his heart. ** Truly one of the elect ! " cried Theodore de Beze. "What scorn for the commonplace!" said La Eenaudie. 86 THE TWO DIANAS. "What uncalculating, unreserved devotion to the cause of humanity ! " said Coligny. "Alas!" rejoined Gabriel, "how paltry must my selfishness appear beside such self-abnegation, Monsieur FAmiral ! I do not, like Ambroise Pare, subordinate facts and persons to ideas and principles ; but on the contrary, ideas and principles to facts and persons. The Reformed religion will be for me, as- you know too well, not an end, but a means. In your noble, unselfish struggle I should take part to serve my own purposes. I feel that my motives are too personal and selfish for me to dare to defend so pure and holy a cause, and you would do very well at this moment to spurn me from your ranks as unworthy to serve therein." " Surely you traduce yourself, Monsieur d'Exmes," said Theodore de Beze. " Even though you should obey less exalted impulses than those of Ambroise Pare, still the ways of the Lord are many, and one does not find the truth by travelling on one road to the exclusion of all others." " Yes," said La Eenaudie, " we very seldom listen to such professions of faith as that you have just heard, when we address to those whom we wish to enlist in our cause the question, 6 What do you ask 1 ' " " Oh, well," Gabriel responded with a sad smile ; " to that question Ambroise Pare answered : 6 I ask whether justice and right are really on your side.' Do you know what my reply would be 1 " " No," Theodore de Beze replied ; " but we are ready to answer you on every point." " T should ask," Gabriel rejoined, " ' Are you sure that you have on your side sufficient material power and sufficient members to make a good fight, even if not to conquer 1 ' " A PHILOSOPHER AND A SOLDIER. 87 Once more the three enthusiasts exchanged looks of wonder. But their wonder had not the same meaning as before. Gabriel looked at them in gloomy silence. Theodore de Beze, after a pause, replied, — " Whatever may be the feeling that prompts that in- quiry, Monsieur d'Exmes, I agreed in advance to answer you on every point, and I will keep my promise. We have with us not only common-sense, but strength as well, thank God ! The progress of our principles has been rapid and undeniable. Three years ago a Reformed church was founded at Paris ; and the great cities of the kingdom — Blois, Tours, Poitiers, Marseilles, and Rouen — all have churches of their own. You can see for your- self, Monsieur d'Exmes, the enormous crowds which are attracted by our meetings at the Pre-aux-Clercs. People, nobility, and courtiers give up their pleasure-making to come and sing with us Clement Marot's French hymns. We intend next year to determine our numbers by a public procession ; but at the present time, I venture to say that we have a fifth of the population with us. We may therefore without presumption call ourselves a party, and may reckon, I think, upon inspiring our friends with confidence, our enemies with dismay." " That being so," said Gabriel, coolly, " I may very possibly before long enrol myself among the former and assist you to combat the latter." " But suppose you had found us not so strong ? " asked La Renaudie. " Then I confess that I should have sought other al- lies," replied Gabriel, still firmly and calmly. La Renaudie and Theodore de Beze both made a movement of astonishment. a Ah ! " cried Coligny, "do not judge him, my friends, 88 THE TWO DIANAS. too hastily or too harshly. I have seen him at work at the siege of St. Quentin ; and when one puts his life in peril, as he did there, it bespeaks no ordinary soul. But I know that he has a holy and terrible duty to perform, which leaves no part of his devotion at his own disposal." " And in default of my devotion, I would like to offer you at least my sincerest aid," said Gabriel. " But in very truth I cannot give myself up to your service abso- lutely and without consideration ; for I am devoted to a necessary and formidable task, which has been imposed upon me by the wrath of God and the wickedness of man, and while that task remains unfinished, I beg you to pardon me, for I am not the arbiter of my own fate. The destiny of another takes precedence of mine at all times, and wherever I may be." " One may devote oneself to a man as well as to an idea," said Theodore de Beze. "And in such a case," added Coligny, " we shall be happy, my friend, to serve you, just as we shall be proud to avail ourselves of your services." " Our good wishes will go with you ; and we will stand ready to assist you in case of need," said La Renaudie. " Ah ! you are heroes and saints as well/' cried Gabriel. " But take care, young man," said the stern La Re- naudie, in his familiar and yet noble language, — " take care, when once we have called you our brother, to be worthy of the name. We may admit a private devotion into our ranks ; but the heart sometimes deceives itself. Are you perfectly certain, young man, that when you be- lieve yourself to be entirely devoted to thoughts of an- other, no personal consideration whatever has its influence on your actions'? In the object which you are striv- ing to accomplish, are you absolutely and truly disinter- A PHILOSOPHER AND A SOLDIER. 89 ested ] Are you, in short, urged on by no passion of your own, though it may be the most generous and wor- thy of passions ] " " Yes," added Theodore de Beze, " we do not ask for your secrets ; but search your heart, and tell us that if you were justified in revealing to us all its feelings and all its plans, you would not feel the least embarrassment in so doing, and we will believe your word." " In speaking thus, my dear friend," said the admiral, in his turn, " it is to impress upon you that a pure cause must be upheld with clean hands ; otherwise one would only bring misfortune upon his cause and himself." Gabriel listened to and looked at the three men one after another, who were as stern to others as to them- selves, and who, standing around with keen, serious mien, were questioning him as friends and judges at once. At their words he turned pale and red by turns. He questioned his own conscience. Being a man of impulse and action, he was doubtless too little accus- tomed to reflect and inquire into his own motives. At this moment he asked himself in alarm, whether in his filial devotion his love for Madame de Castro was not an element of very great weight ; whether he was not at heart as anxious to learn the secret of Diane's birth as to procure the old count's liberty ; whether, in short, in this matter of life or death he was really as unselfish as he must be according to Coligny to deserve God's favor. Fearful doubt! — whether by some selfish mental reser- vation he might not compromise his father's welfare in the sight of God. He shuddered in anxious uncertainty. A circum- stance, seemingly unimportant, awoke his nature to action, once more. 90 THE TWO DIANAS. Eleven o'clock struck from the church of St. Severin. In an hour he would be in the king's presence. With a firm voice he said to the leaders of the Re- formed sect : - — "You are men of the Golden Age; and those who are most irreproachable in their own sight find their self- esteem debased and saddened when they compare them- selves with your ideal. Yet it is not possible that all of your party should be such as you are. That you, who are the head and the heart of the religion, should keep a close and strict watch upon your purposes and your acts is necessary and beneficial \ but if I throw myself into your cause, it will not be as a leader, but as a common soldier simply. Stains upon the soul only are indelible ; those upon the hand may be washed away. I will be your hand, — that 's all. I venture to ask, Have you the right to refuse the aid of this bold and daring hand V 9 " No," said Coligny ; " and we accept it here and now, my friend." " And I will stake my life that it will rest upon the hilt of your sword as pure and unstained as it is valiant," added Theodore de Beze. "The very hesitation," said La Renaudie, "which our rather rough and exacting words caused in your scrupu- lous heart is our sufficient guarantee. We know how to judge men's characters." "Thanks, gentlemen," said Gabriel, — "thanks from my heart for not depriving me of the confidence of which I am so much in need in the hard task which I have be- fore me ; thanks to you especially, Monsieur 1'Amiral, who have thus, as you promised, furnished me in advance with the means of punishing a breach of faith, even if committed by an anointed king. Now I am obliged to leave you, gentlemen, and I will say, not adieu, but au A PHILOSOPHER AND A SOLDIER. 91 revoir. Although I may be of those who obey the coarse of events rather than abstract ideas, I believe, neverthe- less, that the seeds you have sown to-day will bear fruit hereafter." " We hope so. for our own sakes," said Theodore de Beze. "I must not hope so for my sake," rejoined Gabriel; " for, as I have avowed, it will be only bitter misfortune which will drive me to adopt your cause. Adieu once more, gentlemen ; I must now go to the Louvre." "I will go with you," said Coligny. "I must repeat to Henri II. in your presence what I have already told him once in your absence. Kings have but short memo- ries ; and we must not allow this one to forget or to deny. I will go with you." " I should not have ventured to ask this favor of you, Monsieur TAmiral," cried Gabriel ; " but I accept your offer most gratefully." " Let us go, then," said Coligny. As soon as they had left Calvin's chamber, Theodore took his tablets, and wrote these names : — Ambroise Pare, Gabriel, Vicomte d'Exrnes. " It seems to me," said La Renaudie, " that you are a little hasty in enrolling these two men among us. They have made no promises whatever." " They are ours," replied De Beze. " One is in search of the truth, and the other fleeing from injustice. I tell you they are ours, and I shall write Calvin to that effect." " This will have been a great day for the religion, then." " Indeed it will," said Theodore; " we shall have made the conquest of a profound philosopher and a valiant soldier, — a mighty brain and a strong arm, a winner of battles and a sower of ideas. You are right ; it is really a great day." 92 THE TWO DIANAS. CHAPTEE VIII. WHEREIN MARY STUART'S LOVELINESS FLITS ACROSS THE COURSE OF THE STORY WITH AS TRANSIENT A GLEAM AS IT CASTS UPON THE HISTORY OF FRANCE. When Gabriel, accompanied by Coligny, reached the portals of the Louvre, he was overwhelmed by the first words that reached his ears. The king did not receive that day ! The admiral, notwithstanding he held that high rank and was the nephew of Montmorency, was too gravely suspected of heresy to have much credit at court. As for Gabriel d'Exmes, the captain of the Guards, the ushers of the royal suite had had ample time to forget his face and his name. The two friends were rewarded for their trouble only by being permitted to pass beyond the outer doors. Within it was still worse. They wasted more than an hour in parleying and bribing and threatening. As rap- idly as they succeeded in inducing one halberdier to allow them to pass, another barred their way. All the varieties of dragon, more or less formidable, which watch over the safety of kings seemed to be multiplied tenfold to impede their passage. But when by sheer persistence they had succeeded in penetrating as far as the great gallery which led to the king's closet, they found it impossible to go farther ; the orders were too strict. The king, closeted with the constable and Madame de Poitiers, had given express MARY STUART. 93 instructions that he was not to be disturbed on any pretext. It was necessary that Gabriel should wait till evening if he wished for an audience. Waiting, weary waiting, when he believed that he was about to reach the goal which he had been striving for through so much difficulty and suffering ! The few hours still to be passed seemed to Gabriel more terrible and more to be dreaded than all the perils which he had hitherto defied and overcome. Without listening to the kind words with which the admiral sought to console him, and to urge patience upon him, he stood at the window looking gloomily at the rain which had begun to fall from the sombre sky, a prey to anger and anguish, restlessly feeling the point of his sword. How to overturn and pass by the stupid guards who pre- vented him from making his way to the king's apartment, and perhaps to his father's liberty? Such thoughts filled his brain, when suddenly the curtain before the door of the royal antechamber was lifted, and a fair and bloom- ing figure seemed to the saddened youth to light up the gray, rainy atmosphere. The little queen-dauphine, Mary Stuart, was passing through the gallery. Gabriel, as if by instinct, uttered a cry, and stretched out his arms toward her. " Oh, Madame ! " he said, hardly conscious of what he was doing. Mary Stuart turned, recognized Gabriel and the admiral, and came up to them with her ever-ready smile. " So you have returned at last, Monsieur le Vicomte d'Exmes," said she. " I am very glad to see you again $ 94 THE TWO DIANAS. I have heard much talk about you of late. But what are you doing at the Louvre at this early hour, and what is your wish 1 " " To speak to the king ! to speak to the king, Madame ! " Gabriel replied in a stifled voice. " Monsieur d'Exmes," it was the admiral who spoke, "has really much need to speak to the king without de- lay. It is a very serious matter for him, and for the king as well ; but all these guards prevent his entering, and attempt to put him off till this evening." 6 1 As if I could wait till evening ! " cried Gabriel. " I believe," said Mary Stuart, " that his Majesty is just finishing some important despatches. Monsieur le Connetable de Montmorency is still with the king, and really I am afraid — " A piteous glance from Gabriel prevented Mary from finishing her sentence. " Well, we will see," she resumed. " I will take the risk." She made a sign with her little hand. The guards respectfully fell back, and Gabriel and the admiral were at liberty to pass. " Oh, thanks, Madame ! " said the eager youth. " Thank you, who, in every respect like an angel, always appear to comfort or to aid me in my suffering." " The way is clear," responded Mary Stuart, smiling. " If his Majesty is very angry, do not betray the angel's share in your entrance, except at the last extremity, I beg of you." She inclined her head graciously to Gabriel and his companion, and was gone. Gabriel was already at the door of the king's cabinet. There was in the last antechamber one more usher who undertook to oppose their entrance. But just then the MARY STUART. 95 door opened ; and Henri himself appeared on the thresh- old, just giving some last instructions to the constable. The king's distinguishing characteristic was not reso- lution. At the sudden appearance of Vicomte d'Exmes, he recoiled, and even forgot to be angry. Gabriel's great virtue was firmness. He bowed low before the king in the first place. "Sire," said he, " deign to accept my most respectful homage." Then turning to Monsieur de Coligny, who was follow- ing him, and whom he wished to relieve from the embarrassment of speaking first, — " Come, Monsieur l'Amiral," said he, " and in ac- cordance with the kind promise you made me, be kind enough to remind his Majesty of the part that I took in the defence of St. Quentin." "What is all this, Monsieur?" cried Henri, beginning to recover his self-control. " How is it that you intrude yourself thus upon us, without authorization or announce- ment 1 How do you dare to call upon Monsieur l'Amiral in our presence " Gabriel, who was as bold at such momentous crises as he was before the enemy, and who well understood that it was no time to lose his courage, replied in a perfectly respectful but determined tone, — " I thought, Sire, that your Majesty was always ready when justice was to be done, even to the meanest of your subjects." He had taken advantage of the king's backward move- ment to walk boldly into the cabinet, where Diane de Poitiers, pale as death, and half reclining upon her couch of carved oak, watched the actions and words of the auda- cious young man, without power to speak a word, so great was her anger and surprise. 96 THE TWO DIANAS. Coligny had entered also upon the heels of his impetu- ous friend, and Montmorency, as much stupefied as the others, had followed his example. There was a moment of silence. Henri turned to his mistress with an inquiring look ; but before he had re- solved upon any course for himself or she had had time to suggest one to him, Gabriel, who knew well that at that moment he held a very advantageous position, said again to Coligny with an imploring and at the same time dignified accent, — " I beseech you to speak, Monsieur l'Amiral ! " Montmorency quickly shook his head at his nephew, but brave Gaspard took no note of it. " Indeed I will speak," said he, "for both my duty and my promise require me to do so. " Sire," he resumed, addressing the king, " I here repeat to you, in brief, and in presence of Monsieur le Vicomte d'Exmes, what I thought it my duty to tell you in greater detail before his return. It is to him, and to him alone, that we owe the prolonged defence of St. Quentin, even beyond the time fixed by your Majesty." The constable made a meaning movement. But Co- ligny, looking steadily at him, nevertheless went calmly on, — "Yes, Sire, three times and more Monsieur d'Exmes saved the town, and had it not been for his courage and energy, France, beyond a doubt, w r ould not have been at this hour on the road to safety, in which we may hope that she may henceforth be able to maintain herself." " Come, come ! you are too modest or too obliging, my nephew ! " cried Monsieur de Montmorency, utterly unable to restrain his impatience any longer. " No, Monsieur, I am just and truthful," said Coligny, "nothing more. I contributed my own share and with MARY STUART. all iny strength to the defence of the town which was intrusted to me. But Vicomte d'Exmes rekindled the courage of the people, which I looked upon as already dead beyond redemption ; he succeeded in throwing into the town reinforcements which I had no idea were in the neighborhood; last of all, he frustrated a surprise at- tempted by the enemy, which I had not foreseen. I say nothing of the way in which he bore himself in the melee ; we all did our best. But what he did with his own hand and brain, the enormous share of glory that he won for himself on that occasion, may well lessen or even render vain and illusory all of mine, — that I proclaim aloud." Turning to Gabriel, the brave admiral added, — " Is it thus that I ought to speak, my friend % Have I carried out my agreement to your satisfaction ! Are you content with me " " Oh, I thank and bless you from the bottom of my heart, Monsieur FAmiral, for your loyalty and virtue," said Gabriel, deeply touched, and pressing Coligny's hands. "I expected no less of you. But look upon me, T beg, as bound to you forever. Yes, from this hour, your creditor has become your debtor, and will remember his debt, I swear to you." Meanwhile the king, frowning and with downcast eyes, was beating his foot impatiently on the floor, and seemed deeply vexed. The constable gradually approached Madame de Poitiers, and exchanged a few words with her in an undertone. They seemed to have come to some decision, for Diane began to smile ; and her diabolical and feminine grimace made Gabriel shudder, as he happened to be looking at the beautiful duchess at that moment. VOL. II. — 7 98 THE TWO DIANAS. However, Gabriel found strength to add, — " I will keep you no longer, Monsieur l'Aniiral. You have done more than your duty toward me ; and if his Majesty will deign now to grant, as my first reward, the favor of a private interview — " " Later, Monsieur, later ; I do not say no," said Henri, quickly, "but just now it is impossible." " Impossible ! " cried Gabriel, sorrowfully. " Why impossible, Sire ? " Diane interrupted pleasantly, to Gabriel's great surprise, and the king's as well. " What ! do you think, Madame — 1 " stammered Henri. " I think, Sire, that a king's most pressing duty is to render to each one of his subjects that which is his due. Now, your debt to Monsieur d'Exmes is one of the most well-founded and sacred of all debts in my opinion." "No doubt, no doubt ! " said Henri, who began to read the signals in the favorite's eyes ; " and I wish — " " To hear at once what Monsieur d'Exmes has to say," Diane finished his sentence. " That is right, Sire, and no more than justice." " But his Majesty knows," said Gabriel, more and more lost in amazement, " that it is essential that I should speak with him alone 1 " "Monsieur de Montmorency was just about to retire as you came in, Monsieur," rejoined Madame de Poitiers ; " and you have yourself taken the trouble to tell Mon- sieur l'Amiral that you would detain him no longer. As for myself, as I was a witness of the contract the king made w T ith you, and can even, if need be, remind his Majesty of its exact terms, perhaps you will allow me to remain." " Most assuredly, Madame ; I ask you to do so," mur* mured Gabriel. MARY STUART. 99 " My nephew and myself will take our leave, then, of his Majesty and of you, Madame," said Montmorency. He made a sign of encouragement, as he passed, to Diane, of which she seemed in no need, however. For his part Coligny ventured to press Gabriel's hand ; then he followed his uncle from the room. The king and the favorite remained alone with Gabriel, who was in a state of alarm at the unexpected and mys- terious protection accorded to him by Diane de Castro's mother. 100 THE TWO DIANAS, CHAPTER IX. THE OTHER DIANE. In spite of his marvellous self-control, Gabriel could not prevent the blood from leaving his cheeks nor his voice from quivering when after a moment's pause he said to the king, — " Sire, it is in fear and trembling, and yet with implicit confidence in your kingly word, that I venture, having only yesterday escaped from captivity, to recall to your Majesty's mind the solemn engagement that you deigned to enter into with me. The Comte de Montgommery still lives, Sire ; otherwise you would long ago have stayed my voice." He stopped with a terrible oppression at his heart. The king remained motionless and mute. Gabriel resumed : " Well, then, Sire, since the Comte de Montgommery still lives, and since according to Monsieur l'Amiral's testimony, I did prolong the resistance of St. Quentin beyond the limit fixed by your Majesty, I have more than kept my promise ; now I beg you to keep yours. Sire, give me back my father ! " " Monsieur ! " said Henri, hesitatingly. He looked anxiously at Diane de Poitiers, whose tran- quillity and self-possession seemed to be quite undisturbed. Nevertheless, it was a difficult position for the king. Henri had grown used to thinking of Gabriel as dead or in captivity, and had not prepared himself with a reply to his terrible demand. THE OTHER DIANE. 101 In the face of this hesitation Gabriel's heart was torn with anguish. " Sire," he continued, in an almost despairing tone, "it is impossible that your Majesty has forgotten ! Your Majesty must remember our solemn interview ; what I undertook to do in the prisoner's behalf, and your Maj- esty's reciprocal undertaking with me." The king was touched in spite of himself at the grief and alarm of the noble youth ; the generous instincts in him awoke. " I remember it all," he said to Gabriel. " Ah, Sire, thanks ! " cried Gabriel, with eyes shining with delight. But Madame de Poitiers at this moment calmly interposed, — " Doubtless the king remembers it all, Monsieur d'Exmes ; but you yourself seem to have forgotten." A flash of lightning from a cloudless sky could not have terrified Gabriel more than these words. " What have I forgotten, Madame, pray 1 " the young man murmured. "One half of your task, Monsieur," Diane replied. "You said to his Majesty, — and if these are not your exact words, I at least give their sense, — ' Sire, to pur- chase the freedom of the Comte de Montgommery, I will arrest the enemy in his triumphal march toward the heart of France.' " " Well, did I not do it 1 " asked the bewildered Gabriel. "Oh, yes!" replied Diane, "but you added: 'And even, if it be necessary, the assailed shall become the aggressor, and I will seize one of the towns of which the enemy is in possession.' That is what you said, Monsieur. Therefore it seems to me that you have done but half of what you agreed to do. What answer have you to 102 THE TWO DIANAS. that ? You held St. Quentin for a certain number of days j it was well done, I do not deny. You have shown us the town defended as you promised ; but where is the town taken % " " Oh, mon Dieu, mon Dieu! " It was all Gabriel in his utter despair could find strength to say. " You see, " Diane resumed with the same sang-froid, " that my memory is even better and more at my com- mand than yours. Yet I venture to hope that now you remember. " " Yes, it is true, I do remember now ! " cried Gabriel, in bitterness of spirit. " But when I said that, I meant simply to say that in case of need I would accomplish the impossible ; for is it possible at this time to take any town from the hands of the Spaniards or the English ] Is it, Sire ? Your Majesty, by allowing me to go, tacitly accepted the first of my offers, without giving me to un- derstand that after such an heroic effort and a long term of captivity I should be called upon to carry out the second. Sire, it is to you — to you — that I appeal ; one town for the freedom of one man, — is not that enough % Will you not be content with such a ransom ; and must it be that on account of a mere foolish word which es- caped me in the exaltation of my spirit, you will impose upon me, a weak human Hercules, another task a hundred times harder than the first, — yes, Sire, even impossible, and understood to be so V 9 The king made a motion of his lips, as if to speak, but the grande senechale made haste to forestall him. " Is it, pray, any easier and more practicable, is there any less of danger or of madness, despite your promises, in setting free a dangerous prisoner, who was guilty of the crime of leze-majeste ? You offered to do the impossible in order to obtain the impossible, Monsieur d'Exmes ; and THE OTHER DIANE. 103 it is not fair that you should demand the fulfilment of the king's word when you have not kept your own prom- ise in full. The duties of a sovereign are no less weighty than those of a son; enormous, nay, superhuman services rendered the State can alone produce such a condition of things as would justify his Majesty in nullifying the laws of the State. You have a father to save, — very well ; but the king has France to protect." And with a look which was a fit commentary to her words, Diane reminded Henri of the great danger of al- lowing the old Comte de Montgommery and his secret to rise from the tomb. But Gabriel, making a last effort, stretched out his hands to the king, and cried, — " Sire, it is to you — to your sense of right, to your kind heart — that I appeal. Sire, hereafter, aided by time and circumstance, I bind myself to win back a town for my country, or to die in the attempt. But mean- while, Sire, for very pity's sake, let me see my father ! " Henri, taking counsel from the penetrating gaze of Diane and her whole demeanor, responded, steadying his voice, — " Keep your promise to the end, Monsieur ; and I swear before God that then, and then only, will I fulfil mine. My word is worth as much as yours." " That is your last word, Sire?" asked Gabriel. " That is my last word." Gabriel bent his head for a moment, overwhelmed and vanquished, and altogether beside himself from his fear- ful repulse. In one moment he revolved in his mind a whole world of thoughts. He would be revenged upon the ungrateful king and his perfidious favorite ; he would throw in his lot with 104 THE TWO DIANAS. those of the Reformed religion ; he would accomplish the destiny of the Montgommeries ; he would strike Henri a mortal blow, even as Henri had struck the old count ; he would cause Diane de Poitiers to be banished from court in disgrace, and bereft of all her honors. Hence- forth that should be the one aim of his will and his life ; and far removed and impossible as its accomplishment might seem to be for a simple gentleman, he would find a way to accomplish it. And yet his father meanwhile might die twenty times over. The avenger was very well ; but the savior was better. In his position, it was hardly more difficult to capture a town than to punish a king; but the former end was holy and glorious, the other criminal and im- pious : in the one case he would lose Diane de Castro for- ever ; in the other who could say that he might not win her ? Everything that had happened since the fall of St. Quentin passed before Gabriel's eyes like a flash. In one tenth of the time that it takes us to write all this the gallant and ever-ready heart of the young man had begun to throw off its depression. He had made a resolution, formed his plan, and thought that he could see in the distance a favorable result. The king and his mistress marvelled, and were almost afraid, as they saw him raise once more his pallid but tranquil face. " So be it," was all he said. " You are resigned, are you 1 " asked Henri. " I have made my decision," Gabriel replied. "How? Explain yourself," said the king. " Listen to me, Sire. Any attempt that I should make to put into your hands a town to pay for the one which the Spaniards have taken from you would seem to you hopeless, impossible, the act of a madman, would it not? THE OTHER DIANE. 105 Be frank with me, Sire, and you too, Madame, — is not this really your opinion V 9 " It is true," Henri replied. " I fear so/' added Diane. " In all probability this attempt will cost me my life, and produce no other result than to cause me to be looked upon as an absurd fool," Gabriel continued. " It was not I who proposed it to you," said the king. " Doubtless, your wisest course would be to give it up," Diane rejoined. " I have told you, however, that I have resolved upon it," said Gabriel. Neither Henri nor Diane could restrain an admiring exclamation. " Oh, be careful ! 99 cried the king. "Of what? — of my life V 9 retorted Gabriel, laughing aloud. " I sacrificed that long, long ago. But, Sire, there must be no misunderstanding and no subterfuges this time. The terms of the bargain we are making together before God are now clear and precise. I, Gabriel, Vicomte d'Exmes, Vicomte de Montgommery, will bear myself in such fashion that by my means some town which is to- day in the power of the Spaniards or the English shall fall into your hands. This town shall be no paltry vil- lage or hamlet, but a strong place, of as much impor- tance as you can desire. There is no ambiguity there, I think." " No, truly not," said the king, uneasily. "And you," Gabriel resumed, "Henri II. , King of France, do also on your part bind yourself to open the doors of my father's dungeon, at my first demand, and to give up to me the Comte de Montgommery. Do you so bind yourself 1 Is it done 1 " 106 THE TWO DIANAS. The king noticed Diane's incredulous smile, and said, — " I give you my word." " Thanks, your Majesty. This is not all, however. You can well afford to give one guarantee more to this poor maniac, who is hurling himself into the abyss before your very eyes. You must be indulgent to those who are about to die. I ask of you no signed writing, which might com- promise you, — doubtless, you would refuse it ; but here is a Bible, Sire ; place your royal hand upon it, and take this oath : fc In exchange for a town of the first class, the recovery of which I shall owe to Gabriel de Montgom- mery alone, I pledge myself upon the holy gospels to re- store Vicomte d'Exmes's father to liberty ; and I declare in advance that if I prove false to this oath, said viscount is freed from all allegiance to me and mine. I say that whatever he may do to punish me for my false swear- ing will be well done, and absolve him before God and man for any crime against my person/ Take that oath, Sire. ,, " By what right do you ask it of me ] " said Henri. " I told you, Sire, by the right of one who is soon to die." The king still hesitated ; but the duchess with her dis- dainful smile made a sign to him that he might take the required oath without fear. She really believed that for the moment Gabriel had lost his reason; and she shrugged her shoulders in pity. "Very well; I consent," said Henri, with a fatal impulse. With his hand on the gospel, he repeated the words of the oath which Gabriel dictated. " At least," said the young man, when the king had THE OTHER DIANE. 107 done, " this will suffice to spare your remorse. Madame Diane is not the only witness to our new contract, for God also has witnessed it. Now, I have no more time to lose. Adieu, Sire. In two months from now I shall be no longer among the living, or my father will be in my arms." He bowed low before the king and the duchess, and left the room in haste. Henri, in spite of himself, remained for a moment thoughtful and grave ; but Diane laughed merrily. " Come, why don't you laugh, Sire % " said she. " Surely you see that this madman is lost, and that his father will die in prison. You may safely laugh, Sire." " I am laughing," said the king, suiting the action to the word. 108 THE TWO DIANAS. CHAPTER X. A GRAND SCHEME FOR A GREAT MAN. The Due de Guise, since he had borne the title of Lieutenant-General of the kingdom, occupied apartments in the Louvre itself. The ambitious chief of the house of Lorraine thus slept, or rather lay awake, every night in the royal dwelling of the kings of France. What waking dreams did he have beneath that chimera-haunted roof? His dreams had taken a great stride forward since the day when he confided to Gabriel, in his tent before Civitella, his designs upon the throne of Naples. Would he be content now 1 Being a guest in the royal palace, would he not say to himself that be- fore long he might well become its master 1 Did he not already feel vaguely the pressure of a crown about his temples? Did he not with a complacent smile contem- plate the good sword which, more powerful than the magician's wand, might transform his hopes to reality ? W T e may imagine that even as early as this, Francois de Lorraine did harbor such thoughts ; for consider ! Did not the king himself, by calling him to his assistance in his distress, justify his wildest ambition ? To intrust to him the welfare of France at such a time was to recognize him as the first captain of his age ! Francois I. would not have been so modest ! No, he would have girded on the sword of Marignan. But Henri II., al- though of great personal courage, lacked the will to command and the force to execute. A GRAND SCHEME FOR A GREAT MAN. 109 The Due de Guise said all this to himself ; but he also told himself that it was not enough to be able to justify his rash hopes in his own eyes, but that he must justify them in the eyes of France ; that he must by glorious services and signal success purchase his right and carve out his own destiny. The fortunate general who had had the opportunity to arrest the second invasion of Charles V. at Metz knew very well that he had not yet accomplished so much that he could venture to try for the whole. Even when at this time he had driven back to the frontier the Spanish and the English, still it was not enough. In order that France might throw herself into his hands, or allow hirn to take her to himself, he must not only repair her losses, but must make conquests for her. Such were the- reflections which had preoccupied the great mind of the Due de Guise since his return from Italy. He was going over them again on this very day when Gabriel de Montgommery was concluding his new, appar- ently insane, yet sublime agreement with Henri II. Alone in his room, Francois de Guise, standing at the window, was looking into the courtyard with eyes that saw not, and mechanically thrumming upon the glass with his fingers. One of his people knocked softly at the door, and upon receiving the duke's permission to enter, announced Vicomte d'Exmes. " Vicomte d'Exmes ! " said the Due de Guise, who had a memory like Caesar's, and who also had the best of reasons for remembering Gabriel. " Vicomte d'Exmes ! My young companion in arms of Metz and Eenty and Valenza ! Show him in, Thibault ; show him in at once ! " 110 THE TWO DIANAS. The valet bowed and left the room to introduce Gabriel. Oar hero (we surely have the right to give him that name) had not hesitated. With the instinct which illuminates the brain at critical moments, and which if it shines throughout the ordinary extent of one's life is called genius, Gabriel, on leaving the king, as if he had foreseen the secret thoughts which the Due de Guise was fondling in his mind at that moment, betook himself at once to the apartments of the lieutenant-general. He was perhaps the only living man who could understand and assist him. Gabriel might well have been touched by the reception which he met with from his former commander. The Due de Guise went quite to the door to meet him, and folded him in his arms. " Ah, you are here at last, my hero ! " he said effu- sively. " Whence have you come 1 What has become of you since St. Quentin 1 Ah, how often I have thought of you and spoken of you, Gabriel ! " "Have I really kept any place in your memory, Mon seigneur 1 " " Pardieu ! he has the assurance to ask me such a question ! " cried the duke. "As if you hadn't ways of your own of making yourself remembered by people. Coligny, who is worth more alone than all the rest of the Montmorencys together, has told me (but in very am- biguous terms, for some unknown reason) a part of your exploits at St. Quentin; nevertheless, from what he did say, I should judge that he said nothing regarding the greater portion of them." " Yet I did too little ! " said Gabriel, with a sad smile. " Ambitious boy ! " said the duke. " Indeed I am ambitious ! " was Gabriel's response, with a mournful shake of the head. A GRAND SCHEME FOR A GREAT MAN. Ill " But, thank God, you have returned ! " rejoined the Due de Guise. "Once more we are together, my friend ; you remember what plans we made together in Italy ! Ah, poor Gabriel, France needs your valor more than ever now. To what dire extremity have they reduced our country ! " " All that I am, and all that I have," said Gabriel, " is consecrated to her support ; I only await your signal, Monseigneur." " Thanks, my friend," the duke responded; "be sure that I will avail myself of your offer, and you will not have long to wait for my signal." " Then it will be for me to thank you, Monseigneur," cried Gabriel. "To tell the truth, however," the duke continued, " the more I look around me, the more embarrassing and serious do I find the situation. I had to hasten at first to the point where the greatest urgency existed, to organize effective means of resistance in the neighbor- hood of Paris, and to present a formidable defensive front to the enemy, — to stop his progress, in short. But all that amounts to nothing. He has St. Quentin ; he has the North ! I ought to be at work, and I long to be. But in what direction ] " He stopped, as if to consult Gabriel. He knew the young man's breadth of view, and he had on more than one occasion found his advice worth following ; but now Yicomte d'Exmes spoke not a word, carefully watching the duke, and letting him approach the subject in his own way, so to speak. Francois de Lorraine thereupon continued : — " Do not reprove me for my sloth, my dear friend. I am not one of those who hesitate, as you know ; but I am of those who reflect. You will not blame me for it ; for you 112 THE TWO DIANAS. are like me, — determined and cautious at the same time. The pensiveness of your young face," the duke added, " seems to me of a severer cast than formerly. I hardly dare to ask you about yourself. You had stern duties to perform, I remember, and formidable foes to discover. Have you other misfortunes to deplore than those of your country 1 I fear so ; for when I last saw you, you were only serious, and now I find you sad." " Let us not speak of myself, Monseigneur, T beg," said Gabriel. " Let us speak of France, and then we shall be speaking of my hopes." " So be it," rejoined the duke. " I will tell you with perfect frankness my thoughts and my anxiety. It seems to me that the most essential thing at this moment is to raise the spirits of our people, and restore our former glorious reputation by some striking blow ; to change our defensive attitude to an offensive one; and, finally, not to content ourselves with repairing our defeats, but to atone for them by some glorious success." "That is precisely my opinion, Monseigneur," cried Gabriel, eagerly, surprised and delighted at a coincidence so in line with his own schemes. " That being your opinion," resumed the Due de Guise, " doubtless, you have thought more than once of our country's peril and of the means of extricating her from it?" " Indeed, I have often thought of it," said Gabriel. "Well, then," continued Francois de Lorraine, "have you, my friend, gone any further than 1 1 Have you looked this serious difficulty in the face 1 Where, when, and how to attempt so brilliant a stroke, which we both deem so essential % " " Monseigneur, I think I know." u Can it be?" cried the duke. "Oh, speak, speak, my friend ! " A GRAND SCHEME FOR A GREAT MAN. 113 " Mori Dien ! perhaps I have spoken too soon, after all," said Gabriel. " The proposition I have to make is one of those which will certainly require long prepara- tion. You are very powerful, Monseigneur ; but the project I have to suggest may seem impracticable even to you.'' "I am not generally subject to vertigo," said the duke, smiling. " Never mind, Monseigneur," rejoined Gabriel. "At first sight, my plan will — I fear, and I forewarn you — seem extraordinary, insensate, nay, even impossible ; really, however, it is only difficult and dangerous." " But that only makes it more attractive," said Fran- cois de Lorraine. " Well, Monseigneur, it is agreed, then, that you will not, in the first place, be horrified. I say again, there will be great risks to be run ; but the means of success are in my power, and when I have unfolded them, you yourself will agree with me." " If that be so, I beg you to speak, Gabriel," said the duke. "But who comes to interrupt us now?" he added impatiently. " Is that you knocking, Thibault % " " Yes, Monseigneur," said the valet, entering the room. " Monseigneur ordered me to let him know when the hour for the council to assemble had arrived, and it is now striking two. Monsieur de Saint-Bemy and the other gentlemen will call for Monseigneur directly." "True, true," rejoined the duke; "there is a council- meeting to be held now, and an important one too. It is indispensable that I should be present. Very well, Thi- bault. Leave us ; show the gentlemen in when they ar- rive. You see, Gabriel, that my duty calls me to the king's side. This evening you can unfold your plan to me at your leisure, — and it must be a noble one, since it comes from your brain ; meanwhile I beseech you to 114 THE TWO DIANAS. satisfy my curiosity and my impatience in a few words. What do you mean to do, Gabriel]" " In two words, Monseigneur, take Calais" said Gabriel, calmly. "Take Calais ! " almost shouted the Due de Guise, fall- ing back in surprise. " You forget, Monseigneur," said Gabriel, with the same tranquil air, " that you promised me not to be horrified at the first impression." " Oh, but have you considered this carefully 1 " said the duke. " Take Calais, defended by a strong garrison, by impregnable fortifications, and by the sea! — Calais, which has been in the power of England more than two cen- turies ! Calais, guarded as carefully as the very key of France ! 1 love an audacious scheme ; but will this not be a rash one % " " Yes, Monseigneur," Gabriel replied; "but it is just because it is such a rash undertaking that no one would ever dream of it or suspect it that it has a better chance of success." " In truth, that is very possible," said the duke, thoughtfully. " When you have listened to me, Monseigneur, you will say, 6 It is certain !' The rule of conduct to be ob- served is clearly marked out for us in advance, — to keep it in most absolute secrecy, to throw the enemy off the scent by some false manoeuvre, and to appear before the town unexpectedly. In a fortnight Calais will be ours." " But," the duke rejoined earnestly, " these general in- dications are not sufficient. Your plan, Gabriel, — you have a plan 1 " " Yes, Monseigneur ; it is simple, but sure — " Gabriel had not time to conclude, for at that moment A GRAND SCHEME FOR A GREAT MAN. 115 the door opened and the Comte de Saint-Remy entered, attended by a number of nobles attached to the Guise party. " His Majesty awaits the lieutenant-general of the kingdom at the council-board," said Saint-Remy. " I am at your service, gentlemen," rejoined the duke, saluting the new-comers. Then turning quickly to Gabriel, he said in a low voice, — " I must leave you now, my friend, as you see ; but the unspeakably magnificent scheme which you have thrown into my brain will not leave me the whole day, I promise you. If you really think such a project can be executed, I believe I am capable of understanding you. Can you return here this evening at eight We shall have the whole night to ourselves without fear of interruption. " " I will be prompt to the hour," said Gabriel, "and I will make good use of my time meanwhile." " I makje bold to remind Monseigneur that it is now after two," said the Comte de Saint-Remy. " I am here ; I am quite ready ! " the duke responded. He took a few steps toward the door, then turned and looked at Gabriel, and approaching him once more, as if to be sure that he had understood him aright, — " Take Calais 1 " he said again in a low voice, and with a sort of questioning inflection. And Gabriel, bowing his head affirmatively, replied with his sweet, calm smile, — " Yes, take Calais." The Due de Guise went to attend the council, and Gabriel followed him from the room and left the Louvre. 116 THE TWO DIANAS. CHAPTER XI. GLIMPSES AT DIVERS MEN OF THE SWORD. Aloyse was standing at the lower window of the house anx- iously awaiting Gabriel's return. When she finally espied him, she raised to heaven her eyes filled with tears ; but tears of happiness and gratitude they were this time. She ran and opened the door with her own hands to her beloved master. " God be praised that I see you once more, Mon- seigneur ! " she cried. " Do you come from the Louvre ? Have you seen the king 1 99 " Yes, I have seen him," Gabriel replied. "Weill" " Well, my good nurse, once more I have to wait." " More waiting ! " Aloyse exclaimed, wringing her hands. " Holy Virgin ! it is very hard and very sad to wait." " It would be impossible," said Gabriel, " if I had not work to do meanwhile. But I will work with a will, and thank God, I can beguile the tedium of the journey by thinking steadfastly of the goal." He entered the parlor, and threw his mantle over the back of a couch. He did not see Martin- Guerre, who was sitting in a corner plunged in deep reflections. " Come, come, Martin, you sluggard, what are you about 1 99 cried Dame Aloyse to the squire. " Can't you even help Monseigneur to take off his cloak 1 " GLIMPSES AT DIVERS MEN OF THE SWOKD. 117 u Oh, pardon ! pardon ! 19 Martin exclaimed, rousing himself from his re very, and leaping from his seat. " All right, Martin, don't disturb yourself/' said Gabriel. " Aloyse, I wish you would not trouble poor Martin ; his zeal and devotion are more necessary to me than ever at this moment, and 1 have some very serious matters to talk over with him." Vicomte d'Exmes's slightest wish was sacred to Aloyse. She favored the squire with her sweetest smile, now that he was restored to grace, and discreetly left the room, to leave Gabriel more at liberty to say what was in his mind. "Martin," said he, when they were alone, " what were you doing there ] What were you thinking about so deeply V 9 "Monseigneur," Martin-Guerre replied, " I was cudgel- ling my brain to solve in some degree the enigma of our friend this morning." " Well, how have you succeeded?" asked Gabriel, smiling. " Very indifferently, alas ! Mon seigneur. If I must confess it, I have been able to see nothing but darkness, however widely I have opened my eyes." " But I told you, Martin, that I thought I could see something better than that." " What is it, Monseigneur % I am almost dead trying to find out." "'The time has not come to tell you," said Gabriel. " You are still devoted to me, Martin ? " " Does Monseigneur put that as a question % " u No, Martin, I say it by way of commendation. Now I appeal to this devotion of which I speak. You must for a time forget yourself, forget the shadow which dark- ens your life, and which we will drive away hereafter. I promise you. But at present I need you, Martin." 118 THE TWO DIANAS. " So much the better ! so much the better ! so much the better ! " cried Martin-Guerre. " But let us have uo misunderstanding," said Gabriel. " I have need of your whole being, of your whole life, and all your manhood ; are you willing to place yourself in my hands, to postpone your private troubles, and devote yourself solely to my fortunes 1 " " Am I willing ! " cried Martin ; " why, Monseigneur, it is not only my duty to do so, but will be my greatest pleasure. By Saint Martin ! I have been separated from you only too long, and I long to make up for lost time ! Though there be a legion of Martin- Guerres in- side my clothes, never fear, Monseigneur, I will laugh at them all. So long as you are standing there in front of me, I will see nobody but you in the world." " Brave heart ! " said Gabriel. "But you must con- sider, Martin, that the enterprise in which I ask you to engage is full of danger and pitfalls." " Basta I I will leap over them ! " said Martin, snap- ping his ringers carelessly. " We shall hazard our lives a hundred times over, Martin." " The higher the stake, the better the sport, Mon- seigneur." "But this terrible game, once we engage in it, my friend, cannot be laid aside until it is finished." "Then none but a fine player should take part in it," rejoined the squire, proudly. " Not so fast ! " said Gabriel ; " despite all your resolu- tion, you do not appreciate the formidable and extraordi- nary peril which may attend the almost superhuman conflict into which you and 1 are about to plunge ; and after all, our efforts may be unrewarded, — remember that ! Martin, consider all this carefully ; the plan which I GLIMPSES AT DIVERS MEN OF THE SWORD. 119 must carry out almost makes me afraid myself, when I examine it." " Very good ! Danger and I are old acquaintances," said Martin, with a very self-sufficient air ; " and when one has had the honor of being hanged — " " Martin," Gabriel interrupted, " we must defy the ele- ments, exult in the tempest, laugh at the impossible ! " " Indeed we will ! " said Martin-Guerre. " To tell the truth, Monseigneur, since my hanging, the days which have passed over my head have seemed to me like days of grace ; and I am not inclined to find fault with the good Lord for that portion of the surplus which He has seen fit to allot to me. Whatever the merchant lets you have over and above the bargain, there is no need to account for ; if you do, you are either an ingrate or a fool." " Well, then, Martin, it 's agreed, is it? " said Vicomte d'Exm&s; "you will go with me and share my lot?" " To hell itself, Monseigneur ! so long as you don't ask me to set Satan at defiance, for I am a good Catholic." " Have no fear on that score," said Gabriel. " By go- ing with me you may perhaps endanger your welfare in this world, but not in the next." " That is all that I care to know," rejoined Martin. " But is there nothing else than my life, Monseigneur, that you ask of me 1 " " Yes," said Gabriel, smiling at the heroic ingenuousness of that question ; "yes, indeed, Martin-Guerre, there is another great service that you must render me." " What is it, Monseigneur % " " I want you, as soon as possible, — this very day, if you can, — to find me a dozen or so companions of your mettle, daring and strong and resolute, who fear neither fire nor sword, who can endure hunger and thirst, heat 120 THE TWO DIANAS, and cold, who will obey like angels, and fight like devils. Can you do it 1 " " That depends. Will they be well paid ] " asked Martin. " A piece of gold for every drop of their blood," said Gabriel. " My fortune causes me the least concern, alas ! in the holy but perilous task w 7 hich I must carry through to the end." " At that price, Mon seigneur," said the squire, " I will get together in two hours that number of dare-devils, who will not complain of their wounds, I assure you. In France, and in Paris especially, the supply of that sort of blackguard never fails. But in whose service are they to be?" " In my own," said Yicomte d'Exmes. " I am going to make the campaign which I now have in mind as a vol- unteer, and not as captain of the Guards ; so I need to have retainers of my own." "Oh ! if that is so, Monseigneur," said Martin, "I have right at my call, and ready at any moment, five or six of my old comrades in the Lorraine war. They are pining away, poor devils, since you disuiissed them. How glad they will be to be under fire again with you for their leader ! And so it is for yourself that I am to enlist recruits % Oh. well, then, I will present the full comple- ment to you this evening." " Very good," said Gabriel. " You must make it an essential condition of their employ ment that they be ready to leave Paris immediately, and to follow me wher- ever I go, without question or comment, and with- out even looking to see whether we are marching north or south." " They will march toward glory and wealth, Mon- seigneur, with bandaged eyes." GLIMPSES AT DIVERS MEN OF THE SWORD. 121 " Well, then, I will reckon upon them and upon you, Martin. As for yourself, I will give you — " " Let us not speak of that, Monseigneur," Martin interposed. " On the contrary, we will speak of it. If we survive the fray, my brave fellow, I bind myself solemnly, here and now, to do for you what you will then have done for me, and in my turn to assist you against your enemies, never fear. Meanwhile, your hand, my faithful friend.' , " Oh, Monseigneur ! " Martin-Guerre exclaimed, respect- fully kissing his master's extended hand. "Come, now, Martin," continued Gabriel, " set about your quest at once. Discretion and courage ! Now I must be alone for a time." " Pardon ! but will Monseigneur remain in the house % " asked Martin. " Yes, until seven o'clock. I am not to go to the Louvre until eight." "In that case," rejoined the squire, "I hope to be able to show you, before you leave, some specimens of the make-up of your troop." He saluted and left the room, as proud as a peacock, and already absorbed in his important commission. Gabriel remained alone the rest of the day, study- ing the plan which Jean Peuquoy had handed him, making notes, and pacing thoughtfully up and down his apartment. It was essential that he should be able to answer satisfactorily every objection that the Ducde Guise might raise. He only broke the silence from time to time by repeat- ing, with a firm voice and eager heart, — "I will save you, dear father! My own Diane, I will save you ! " 122 THE TWO DIANAS. About six o'clock, Gabriel, yielding to the insistence of Aloyse, was just taking a little food, when Martin-Guerre entered, very serious and stately. "Monseigneur," said he, " will it please you to receive six or seven of those who aspire to the honor of serving France and the king under your orders 1 " " What ! six or seven already 1 " cried Gabriel. " Yes, six or seven who are strangers to you. Our old Metz companions will make up the twelve. They are all delighted to risk their necks for such a master as you, and accept auy conditions that you choose to impose upon them." " Upon my word, you have lost no time," said Vicomte d'Exmes. " Well, let me see the men ; show them in." " One at a time, shall I not 1 " rejoined Martin. " Mon- seigneur can form a better opinion of them then." " Very well, one at a time," said Gabriel. " One word more," added the squire. " I need not tell Monsieur le Vicointe that all these men are known to me either personally or through reliable information. Their dispositions and their peculiarities are varied ; but they have one characteristic in common, — namely, a well- proved courage. I can answer to Monseigneur for that essential quality, if he will only be indulgent toward some little peccadilloes of no consequence." After this preliminary discourse, Martin-Guerre left the room a moment, and returned almost immediately, fol- lowed by a tall fellow with a swarthy complexion, a reckless, clever face, and very quick of movement. " Ambrosio," said Martin, introducing him. " Ambrosio ! that 7 s a foreign name. Is he not a Frenchman 1 " asked Gabriel. " Who knows 1 " said Ambrosio. " I was a foundling ; and since I grew up, I have lived in the Pyrenees, one GLIMPSES AT DIVERS MEN OF THE SWORD. 123 foot in France and the other in Spain ; and, upon my word ! I have, with a good heart, taken advantage of my double bar-sinister, without any ill feeling either against God or my mother." " And how have you lived 1 " Gabriel asked. "Well, it's just like this," said Ambrosio. "Being entirely impartial as between my two countries, I have always tried, to the best of my poor ability, to break down the barriers between them, and to open to each the advantages of the other, and by this free exchange of the gifts which each of them owes to Providence, to con- tribute, like a pious son, with all my power to their mutual prosperity." " In a word," put in Martin-Guerre, " Ambrosio does a little smuggling." "But," Ambrosio continued, "being a marked man by the Spanish as well as the French authorities, and unap- preciated and hunted by my fellow-citizens on both sides of the Pyrenees at once, I concluded to evacuate the neighborhood, and come to Paris, the city which is over- flowing with means of livelihood for brave men." " Where Ambrosio will be happy," interjected Martin, " to place at the disposal of Vicomte d'Exmes his dar- ing, his address, and his long experience of fatigue and danger." " Ambrosio the smuggler, accepted ! " said Gabriel. " Another ! " Ambrosio took his leave in great delight, giving place to a man of ascetic appearance and reserved manners, clad in a long dark cape, and with a rosary of great beads around his neck. Martin-Guerre introduced him under the name of Lactance. " Lactance," he added, "has already served under the 124 THE TWO DIANAS. orders of Monsieur de Coligny, who was sorry to lose him, and will give Monseigneur a very favorable account of him. But Lactance is a devout Catholic, and was very averse to serving under a commander who is tainted with heresy." Lactance, without a word, signified his assent by mo- tions of his head and hands to what Martin had said, who thereupon continued : — " This pious veteran will, as his duty requires, put forth his best efforts to give satisfaction to Vicomte d'Exmes ; but he asks that every facility may be granted him for the unrestricted and rigorous practice of those religious observances which his eternal welfare demands. Being compelled by the profession of arms which he has adopted and by his natural inclination to fight against his brothers in Jesus Christ, and to slay as many of them as possible, Lactance wisely considers it essential to atone for these unavoidable deeds of blood by stern self-chastise- ment. The more ferocious Lactance is in battle the more devout is he at Mass ; and he despairs of counting the number of fasts and penances which have been imposed upon him for the dead and wounded whom he has sent before their time to the foot of the Lord's throne." " Lactance the devotee, accepted ! " said Gabriel, with a smile. Lactance, still silent, bowed low, and went out, mum- bling a grateful prayer to the Most High for having granted him the favor of being employed by so valiant a warrior. After Lactance, Martin-Guerre brought forward, under the name of Yvonnet, a young man of medium height, of refined and distinguished features, and with small, well- cared-for hands. From his ruffles to his boots, his attire was not only scrupulously clean and neat, but even rather GLIMPSES AT DIVERS MEN OF THE SWORD. 125 jaunty. He made a most courteous salutation to Gabriel, and stood before him in a position as graceful as it was elegant, lightly brushing off with his hand a few grains of dust from his right sleeve. "This, Monseigneur, is the most determined fellow of them all," said Martin-Guerre. " Yvonnet, in a hand-to-hand contest, is like an unchained lion, whose course nothing can arrest ; he will cut and thrust in a sort of frenzy. But he shines especially in an as- sault ; he must always be the first to put his foot on the first ladder, and plant the first French banner on the enemy's walls. 99 "Why, he is a real hero, then ! " said Gabriel. " I do my best," rejoined Yvonnet, modestly ; " and Monsieur Martin-Guerre, doubtless, rates my feeble efforts somewhat above their real worth." "No; I only do you justice," said Martin, "and I will prove it by calling attention to your faults, now that I have praised your virtues. Yvonnet, Monseigneur, is the fearless devil that I have described only on the battle- field. To arouse his courage he must hear drums beat- ing, arrows whistling, and cannon thundering ; without those stimulants and in every-day life Yvonnet is retiring, easily moved, and nervous as a young girl. His sensi- tiveness demands the greatest delicacy ; he does n't like to remain alone in the darkness, he has a horror of mice and spiders, and frequently swoons for a mere scratch. His bellicose ardor, in fact, shows itself only when the smell of powder and the sight of blood intoxicate him." " Never mind," said Gabriel ; "as we propose to escort him to scenes of carnage, and not to a ball, Yvonnet the scrupulous is accepted." Yvonnet saluted Yicomte d'Exmes according to all the rules of good-breeding, and took his leave, smiling 126 THE TWO DIANAS. and twirling the ends of his fine black mustache with his white hand. Two huge blonds succeeded him, of quiet demeanor, and stiff as ramrods. One appeared to be about forty ; the other could scarcely have passed his twenty-fifth year. " Heinrich Scharfenstein, and Frantz Scharfenstein, his nephew," Martin-Guerre announced. " The deuce ! Who are these ] " said Gabriel, in amaze- ment. " Who are you, my good fellows ? " " Wir versteen nur ein wenig das franzosich" ("We only understand French a little"), said the elder of the giants. " What ? " asked Gabriel. " We understand French poorly," the younger Colos- • sus replied. "They are German re'itres" said Martin-Guerre, — "in Italian, condottieri ; in French, soldats. They sell their arms to the highest bidder, and hold their courage at a fair price. They have already served the Spaniards and the English ; but the Spaniard did n't pay promptly enough, and the Briton haggled too much. Buy them, Monseigneur, and you will find you have made a great acquisition. They will never discuss an order, and will march up to the mouth of a cannon with unalterable sang-froid. Courage is with them a matter of bargain and sale ; and provided that they receive their wages promptly, they will submit without a word of complaint to the dangerous, it may be fatal, chances of their kind of business." " Well, I will retain these mechanics of glory," said Gabriel ;