Part 10

As soon as he heard a step entering the room, the stranger turned partially round and half rose from his seat; but a momentary glance was sufficient to show him that the person who appeared was unknown to him; and, turning towards the table again, he pursued his occupation. The young count advanced slowly to the fire, and drawing a settle near, stretched out his feet to warm himself, turning his back to the stranger so as to avoid any air of scanning his proceedings. Gondrin and the other attendants came and went, asking him questions and directions as he thus sat; and from time to time the writer turned round his head and examined their movements and appearance, but without uttering a word. The aubergiste himself at length approached the fireplace, in order, it seemed, to consult with the young gentleman regarding his supper. There was but little, he said, in the house, and at that late hour it was impossible to procure much more. However, he would do his best, he added, and assured his new guest of at least giving him good wine.

Charles of Montsoreau informed him that he was easily satisfied, and doubted not that every thing would be good and abundant. But somewhat to his surprise--for such things were not at all customary in that day--the aubergiste proceeded to demand whether he would not prefer having a chamber apart to sup in, rather than take his meal in the common hall. He was in the act of replying in the negative, when the voice of the stranger who was writing at the table made itself heard for the first time, exclaiming, in an authoritative tone, "Pierre Jean."

The innkeeper instantly flew to his side, and the other addressed him in a low tone, to which the innkeeper replied almost in a whisper.

"As you will, Maître Henri, as you will," said the landlord in conclusion. "But I think it very strange they have not come."

The other merely nodded his head in reply, and then folding up the paper he had written, he put it in his pocket, and approached the fire with an air of being quite at home. He was a man of about six or seven and thirty years of age, and, as he now stood before Charles of Montsoreau at his full height, appeared to the eyes of the young nobleman one of the most powerful men he had ever beheld. His chest was at once broad and deep, his limbs muscular and long, the head small, the flanks thin, and the foot and hand well formed. Every indication was there of great strength and great activity, and the countenance also harmonised perfectly well with the figure, the broad high forehead giving that air of a powerful and active mind which we are all, whether physiognomists or not, inclined by nature to see in the expanse which covers and seems to represent the great instrument of the human intellect. He wore the mustachio somewhat long, and the beard pointed, but small. The eyes were large and fine, the eyebrows strongly marked, the nose was beautifully formed, displaying the wide expansive nostril, generally reckoned a sign of generous feelings; and though there was a cut upon his brow scarcely healed, and a deep scar in his cheek of a more remote date, yet they did not at all detract from the handsomeness of the countenance, which, notwithstanding the plainness of his dress and appearance, was peculiarly striking and attractive.

"This is a cold night, young gentleman," he said, as he approached the fire, "and you ride out somewhat late for a traveller in these parts of the world."

"Oh, I fear not the cold," replied Charles of Montsoreau; "and though I certainly prefer not the night to travel in, yet, when I must betake myself to it, I do so without much discomfort or hesitation."

"Ay; but there are other things sweep over this country besides the wind," said the stranger, "things more cutting and more sharp, I can assure you."

"Oh, against those I go pretty well prepared also," replied Charles of Montsoreau; "every French gentleman is a soldier, you know; and we are not unwilling or unable to make use of our arms when it may be needful."

"You have served, I suppose," said the stranger, "perhaps at Coutras, with the Duke of Joyeuse, or with Harry of Navarre and his Huguenots."

Charles of Montsoreau looked up with a smile. "If we begin talking of where we served, and on what causes, good sir," he said, "we shall have our worthy host, Pierre Jean, requiring us to give up our swords into his safe keeping till we set out again, as indeed he is bound by law to do."

"Oh, no fear, no fear," replied the stranger, laughing. "We shall not quarrel and cut each other's throats, depend upon it. You are here, a young lord, with, it seems to me, a dozen or two of attendants, and I am alone, a poor Escribano, by name Maître Henri, as you just heard."

"And yet," replied Charles of Montsoreau, "the poor Escribano, I should judge, had seen some service in his day, and that not very many years ago either."

"Oh, you judge from that cut upon my forehead. That is but the scratch of a cat."

"Well, then," answered Charles, "if you will tell me sincerely whether that cat's claw was a reiter's estramaçon, or the spear of a De la Mark, I will tell you whether I drew my sword at Coutras, and on what part."

The stranger gazed at him for several moments, with an inquiring and yet half laughing-glance.

"You are as keen," he said at length, "as a Gascon; perhaps, for aught I know, as ambitious as a Guise, as hardy and obstinate as a La Mark, and as politic and secret as a Brisson. The last, at least, I am sure of; and I can tell you, my good youth, if I judge right, we are not likely to part so soon as we both expected when you entered this room."

"Perhaps not, Maître Henri," replied Charles of Montsoreau; "for, if I judge rightly, and you are, as you say, alone, I am not likely to leave you till I see you safe on the other side of Rheims. There lie a strong body of reiters on the Chalons road; and there is one man in France for whom I have much love and respect, but who is somewhat too famous for exposing himself unnecessarily. I have but few men with me; but, well led, and with a great purpose, those few may do much."

The expression which the stranger's countenance assumed, as he listened to this speech, was strange and mingled. There was a smile came upon it, as if half amused, half touched; and yet there was a degree of doubt hung wavering upon his brow, while he first scrutinised the countenance of his companion closely, and then, casting down his eyes, fell into a deep fit of thought. After a short pause, however, he replied,--"You fought at Coutras, sir, neither for Henry of Navarre nor Anne of Joyeuse, that is clear. Am I not right?"

"Quite, Maître Henri," replied the young count, with an air of indifference and a smile; "I fought neither for the heretics, because, Heaven be praised, I am a good Catholic, nor for the minions, because the hero of Jarnac and Montcoutour has passed away into a lover of pet puppies and a pedant in cosmetics."

A sarcastic smile curled the lip of his companion while he spoke. "Two good, wise, and sufficient reasons," he said, "such as a notary may approve of. But tell me, young gentleman, have we ever met before?"

"Never," answered Charles of Montsoreau, "unless we met before we were born. But, however, Maître Henri, to put an end to all doubts, that I see are in your mind, my name is Charles of Montsoreau, Count of Logères, whom you may have heard of, perhaps, though he has yet to make a name in history, and hopes to do so with his sword."

The stranger instantly extended his hand to him, exclaiming, "Indeed, young friend, indeed! How came you here? What brought you to this part of the world?"

"I came for two purposes," replied Charles of Montsoreau. "In the first place, it is long since I have seen Logères; my tenantry need my presence; and it is time that I should take the management of those estates out of the hands of underlings, and defend, protect, and direct them myself."

While he spoke, several of his attendants returned to the room, accompanied by the host, to make preparation for the visiter's supper, and the stranger instantly resumed the position he had at first been standing in, after he approached the fire, while Charles of Montsoreau went on, taking a hint to be cautious from his companion's eyes. "In the next place," he continued, "my second purpose was to visit the good Duke of Guise, who, I understand, is at Soissons, or in that neighbourhood."

"He was at Nancy but a week or two ago," replied the other; "but, after all, you may very likely find him at Soissons, for he is continually moving about the country; and there was a report not long ago, that he was to hold a private conference one of these days with Monsieur de Bellievre, sent on the part of the king. But there is little trust in this Henry, and Heaven knows whether he will send or not.--Shall we sup together, sir?"

"With all my heart," replied the young count, not a little to the surprise of some of his attendants who were in the room, and who did not at all comprehend how their lord, whom they were themselves accustomed to treat with much reverence and respect, came to sit down with a person of such plain apparel.

Their astonishment was not less when they beheld the young nobleman, after supper had been placed upon the table, wait till the other was seated, before he took his own place. The only one who seemed to understand the whole was the boy Ignati, who said, in an under voice, to Gondrin, "He has forgotten himself, master huntsman! Or is Maître Henri gone for to-night?"

"And who is Maître Henri?" demanded Gondrin, in the same tone.

"I could tell, if I would," answered the boy, "but our lord knows him, if you do not."

Before he had well ended, a servant, dressed like his master, in grey, entered the room in haste, and placed a written paper in the hands of Maître Henri, who read it with attention, and then bending over the table towards Charles of Montsoreau, demanded, in a low tone, "How many men have you with you, my young friend?"

"Only seven," replied Charles of Montsoreau, "besides myself and the page. But they are all well-armed, resolute, and determined, and I, the eighth, trust not to be behind any of them."

"Eleven!" said his companion, musing. "We should but muster eleven if we were to set off this moment; for though we counted six amongst us when I arrived, I have sent off three to a distance, and they cannot be back ere the morning. No, we had better wait till daylight. I must give them till twelve o'clock, too, to see if they will keep their word with me: though, by these tidings, it seems to be broken already.--Hark ye," he continued, speaking to the servant who had brought him the paper, and who still stood beside his chair--"hark ye; bend down your ear."

The man did as he was bidden; and, after whispering to him for several minutes, the stranger added, in a louder tone, "If you go by Les petites Loges, you will pass them. Tell him that fifty will do. I want no more, and we must not leave any point weak."

After he had thus spoken, he tore off a bit of the paper he had received, wrote a few words down upon it in a careless way, and tossed it over to Charles of Montsoreau. Those words were, "Schelandre, who you know is as brave as a lion and as cunning as a fox, is looking out for me, with two squadrons, on the road by Hautvilliers. He has got news of my coming by some means--very likely from Henry himself."

Charles turned an inquiring look upon his companion's face, as if to ask, what is to be done? But the other glanced his eye over his shoulder towards the attendants, and proceeded with his supper, commenting upon the landlord's good cheer, praising his wine, and laughing and talking gaily, as if there were no such thing as peril upon the earth.

CHAP. X.

It was in the grey of the morning on the following day that a party of horsemen, now amounting in all to the number of fifteen or sixteen, was seen winding through the little wood, which at that time occupied the ground in the neighbourhood of Chaumizy, a spot which in the present day sends forth many an excellent bottle of sparkling wine, to warm the hearts of many a distant potator.

To any eye which watched the progress of that party from a height--and there was an eye which did so--the movements of the band might seem complicated and curious,--now turning to the east, now winding to the west--now marching on straight forward to the north. One thing, however, was evident, that those horsemen affected by-paths and shady roads, never crossing a hill where they could take their way through the valley, never choosing the open ground where they could go through the wood. Sometimes the eye which, as we have said, watched them from the most elevated ground in the neighbourhood, lost them for several minutes amongst the trees and vineyards, sometimes saw them emerge when it least expected them, sometimes was baffled altogether in regard to a conception of their onward course, by the strange turns and windings which they took.

Nevertheless the band still continued to advance in its own way, winding amidst the brown leafless woods, with Charles of Montsoreau completely armed at its head; Gondrin, little less formidably equipped by his side on the right hand, and the boy Ignati, now dressed completely as a page, with pistols at his saddlebow, and a strong dagger on his thigh, upon the left hand of the young nobleman. Then came, mixed together, the attendants of the Count--all as we have described them before, strongly armed;--two or three strangers of military appearance, clothed in general in grey suits with a double black cross observable on some parts of their garments; and two or three hardy spirits from the little village of Mareuil, who had been hired to swell the numbers of the Count's train, as they passed across the dangerous part of the country between Chalons and Rheims.

Amongst the rest of the persons thus mixed together, might be observed Maître Henri, dressed precisely as he had been the night before, though most of the other personages in grey had contrived to purchase in the village of Mareuil several pieces of defensive and offensive armour, such as steel caps, called salads, breast plates, and the large heavy swords then in use against cavalry, which, like the attendants of Charles of Montsoreau, they bore naked in their hands.

Very few words were uttered as the band rode along: sometimes an order was given in a low voice by the young count, sometimes, while the rest continued to advance, he rode back, to speak to some one in the rear, sometimes he addressed a few words to Gondrin or the page; but in general all passed in silence.

"Are you sure you know your way?" he demanded at length of the boy Ignati, on their suddenly taking a path which appeared more than usually out of the direct course.

"As well as I know the lines on my own hand, sir," replied the boy in the Italian language, which he had discovered that his master understood. "I would rather lose my eyes than lead you or him a step wrong."

"Who do you mean by him?" demanded Charles of Montsoreau, in the same tongue.

"I mean him with the scar," replied the boy.

"Why, what is he to thee?" asked his master.

"Why, he is the only one in all the land," replied the boy, "that ever was kind to me before yourself; and I remember seven months ago, when they made me dance and sing at a great banquet in the town of Nancy, he patted my head, and called me a good youth, and while all the rest showered money into the box my master carried round, he gave me a broad piece, and told me it was for myself. They took it from me afterwards: but he did not know that."

"Then recollect him, and you know him?" demanded his master.

"Grey cloth and brown baize will not hide him from me," replied the boy, with an intelligent smile, "though when I saw him, it was crimson velvet and gold. The heart has its eyes, dear lord, as well as the head, and the heart's eyes never forget."

"Well then, Ignati," replied the Count, "in case of any attack--which we cannot be sure will not take place--you attach yourself to his side, quit him not for a moment, serve him in every thing; but in the very first place guide him on towards Rheims, by the safest paths that you know."

"But must I leave you?" demanded the boy--"must I leave you in the hands of the enemy?"

"Never mind me," replied his master--"I will defend myself, good Ignati. Besides, they can scarcely be called my enemies, as I have taken no service against them."

Just as he spoke, the band issued forth from the little by-path which they had been pursuing, into one of the main roads through the wood, and saw before them, at the distance of about a hundred yards, an old grey stone cross, raised upon several steps, in the very centre of the road, marking the spot where two ways crossed. When first they came within sight of that memento of past years, the ground around it was completely solitary: but before they reached it, five or six heavy armed horsemen came at a quick pace up the road leading to the left and planted themselves round the cross. The moment they reached it, one of their party took off his steel cap, and waved it in the air, looking at the same time down the road by which he had come, as if giving a signal to some persons who followed him.

To the eyes of Charles of Montsoreau and his companions these indications wanted no explanation, nor was any consultation necessary; for it was evident that there was but one thing to be done, namely, to endeavour to force a passage through this little advanced party of the reiters before the main body could come up.

"Quick to the side of Maître Henri," exclaimed Charles of Montsoreau, speaking to the page. "You, Gondrin, too, attach yourself to him. Leave nothing undone to secure his escape; and now forward, my men! Upon them!"

He turned one anxious glance round in the direction of his newly acquired companion; but saw--with some surprise, perhaps--nothing but a calm, unperturbed smile on his countenance. Maître Henri was quietly drawing his sword from its sheath, and in answer to the anxious look of Charles of Montsoreau, only gave a familiar nod, saying, "Go on!"

The young count's orders had been already given, and his horse was instantly put into the gallop. The reiters on their part seemed to require neither parley nor explanation any more than the young count; and instantly separating into two parties, they occupied the road on either side of the cross: he, who was evidently the commander, again waving his steel cap in the same direction as before.

Charles of Montsoreau saw that all depended upon speed, and the prompt execution of his commands; and, turning to the man who followed immediately behind him, he exclaimed, without at all checking his pace as he did so, "Pass round to the right of the cross with two others; but where the passage is forced, attach yourself to drive back the men on the left of the cross, up the road to the left; while I with the rest bar that road against those that are coming up."

The man seemed to understand at a word; and in a moment more they were at the spot where the two roads crossed. As he came up, Charles of Montsoreau turned his head for an instant, and, to his great satisfaction, saw that a large body of horse, which was coming down at full speed, was still at a considerable distance.

That turning of his head, however, had nearly cost him his life; for the three men immediately behind him, having been detached to the other side, one of the reiters, emboldened by this circumstance, spurred suddenly forward, and aimed a long heavy stroke at the head of the young nobleman, which struck him upon the neck, and had it not been for the goodness of his arms, must inevitably have killed him on the spot. As it was, the blow made the count bend almost to his saddle-bow: but it was only to raise himself again immediately, and to return the blow with a force and vigour which cast the reiter headlong from his horse.

At the same time the three men whom he had detached, passed round to the right of the cross. The reiters, who were opposed to them on that side, prepared to stop their progress; but as they were about to do so, they perceived Gondrin, the page, and Maître Henri, with one of his attendants, advancing at full speed a little further to the right. This was enough to make them desist their opposition to the others, and turn to close the path on that side, while the three followers of Charles of Montsoreau, taking advantage of the space thus left, wheeled upon the men on the left side of the cross, and drove them back, trampling upon their fallen companion.

The young nobleman, as soon as he saw the success of this man[oe]uvre, drew in his rein for a moment, in order to suffer it to be fully executed, and the reiters to be driven back into the road up which they had come. On the other hand, they, finding themselves decidedly overmatched, suffered this to be accomplished with ease, and made the best of their way back towards the larger body of their comrades, who were now coming down at full speed to their support.

The moment that Charles of Montsoreau saw this accomplished, he turned his head once more to Maître Henri, exclaiming, "On, on, with all speed! I will insure you at least ten minutes:". and then, without waiting for any answer, he brought the greater part of his men into the road down which the chief body of the reiters was advancing, and prepared, as best he might, to stand the coming shock, which was certain to be tremendous.

In the mean while, Maître Henri, with Gondrin on one side, and the boy on the other, had advanced at full speed towards the three reiters on the right of the cross. One of the stranger's own attendants followed only a step behind; but as they came up, a fierce-looking, powerful man, from amongst their opponents, aimed his petronel right at the head of Maître Henri, exclaiming, "I know thee! I know thee!" and was in the very act of firing, when the page, making his horse spring forward, endeavoured to grasp the muzzle of the piece.

He did not succeed entirely, but was enabled to turn the weapon in some degree, so that the ball passed through the tall Spanish hat of Maître Henri; and being fired from the higher ground on which the cross stood, entered the head of the attendant who was coming up behind, and killed him on the spot. The contest at that point was thus rendered a very unequal one, there being but two men, and one of those nearly unarmed, with a boy of fourteen or fifteen, opposed to three strong and well-armed men.

As all knew, however, that the party headed by Charles of Montsoreau could maintain the road but a very short time against the force coming down upon him, the gain or loss of a minute was every thing to those who were struggling on the right of the cross. The long heavy sword usually borne by the reiter was but feebly opposed by the light weapon of Maître Henri; but that light weapon was used with a degree of skill, coolness, and presence of mind which made up for the disparity; and, with the page still close to his side, he was driving back his immediate opponent, warding off every sweep of his heavy blade, pressing him so hard whenever he paused for a moment, as to prevent him from snatching one of the pistols from his saddle-bow, and gradually urging his own charger onward, till he had very nearly cleared the road before him, when one of the other two reiters--who had hitherto attached themselves to Gondrin, as the only completely equipped man-at-arms of the opposite party--turned suddenly upon Maître Henri, and assailed him on the right, while the other rapidly recovered his ground upon the left.