The Huguenot Part 33

"Well then, so be it," said the Count; "let us consider our decision as made. This very night, Clemence, I will return to Paris. This very night I will meet you here; but oh, my good friend," he continued, turning to the pastor, "you whom I love and venerate as a father, you will easily understand what I feel when I say, that I could wish most anxiously that this dear girl, who is to accompany me through scenes of some peril, were united to me before we depart, not alone by the bonds of deep and true affection, not alone by the bonds of all the mutual promises and engagements which man and woman can plight towards each other, but by the sanction of that holy religion which first inst.i.tuted such an union, and by the blessing of one of the ministers of Christ. I fear, however, it cannot be done."

"Nay, my son, it can," replied the clergyman. "Expelled from our temples, debarred from the performance of all those ceremonial rites, which are but the shadows and types of higher things, the abandonment of such ceremonies as we cannot exercise, can, in no degree, either in the sight of man or of G.o.d, as long as the side of law or justice is considered, affect the validity of such a contract, or do away, in the slightest degree, the solemn legality of an union complete in all the forms which we are enabled to give it. Even were it not so, I have power delegated to me by the synod of our church, without application to higher authorities, whose approbation, for many years, would have been difficult and embarra.s.sing to obtain, to perform all the ceremonies of the church, upon due knowledge certified by me that they are not contrary, in the particular cases, to the law of G.o.d, or to those just ordinances of man to which we have ourselves subscribed. If you desire it, and if Clemence is willing, I will this very night, before you depart, give my blessing to your union, and doubt not that, with my certificate thereof, witnessed by proper witnesses, that union will be held good by the Protestant church throughout the world."

"Then I fear not," exclaimed the Count. "What say you, dear Clemence?

Can you resolve upon this also,--speak, dear girl," he added as she paused in silence, covering her eyes with her hand. "Speak! oh speak!"

"What should I say, Albert?" she said. "Do you dream that I would refuse? Do you suppose that I would reject the only thing which was wanting to give me confidence, and strength, and hope through all the perils that we may have to undergo?"

Albert gazed on her with a look that thanked her to the full; and, after a brief moment given to happiness, he asked, "But who shall be the witnesses?"

"Maria must be one," said Clemence, "for she of course goes with us."

"One of my servants may be another," said the Count. "But it is better to have several."

"The master of this house and his son," said Claude de l'Estang, "will make up a number more than sufficient; and all that remains, Albert, is for you to go and settle your affairs at Versailles, and return hither as soon as you may; though I wish, indeed, that it were possible for you not to go back to that place at all."

"Indeed it is quite necessary," replied the Count; "not contemplating this meeting, I have left all the little store of wealth which I brought with me from Poitou in my house at Versailles. It is impossible to send for it without causing instant suspicion, and it is absolutely necessary, not only for the expences of the journey, but in order to secure some little sum for our subsistence, for a year or two, in case we shall find that, either by misfortune or by fraud, the money which I transmitted to Holland is not forthcoming."

"It is, indeed, most necessary," said Claude de l'Estang. "I have heard that one of our poor ministers, who was banished some years ago from Languedoc, suffered most terribly in foreign lands before he could gain employment."

"But I can bring in my share," exclaimed Clemence, her eyes sparkling with gladness. "I have a number of jewels, of different kinds: many purchased in other days with my own money; many given me by friends of my youth long years ago. They have cost, I know, in all many thousand livres. These are my own, and I will take them with me. Those that I have received from the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess, and other Roman Catholic friends, I shall leave to be given back to them again."

"Do so, do so!" said the pastor. "There are some people, my dear child, who would wring a text from Scripture to bid you do the contrary, telling you to spoil the Egyptians; but I think that such injunctions as that must ever be applicable to particular cases alone, and the application must be made by G.o.d himself. I say, leave all that is not justly and absolutely your own: leave all that those who gave it would not give now, if they could see the use to which you are going to apply it. We shall rarely regret, my child, if ever, having been too just; we shall never cease to regret if we are once unjust."

The Count de Morseiul had remarked that, through the whole of this conversation, the pastor had never once mentioned himself or his own plans. It might however seem, that he left it to be understood that he, too, was about to fly from the land; but the Count de Morseiul knew him well, and was aware that he was one of those who would resolutely and firmly place himself in the way of perils which he would teach others to avoid. He did not choose even to suppose that the pastor was about to remain in the land which he advised them to quit; and he, therefore, demanded, "At what hour, my good friend, will you be ready to give us your blessing and to go with us?"

"My son," replied the pastor, "I will give my blessing on your union at any hour you like, for I dare not go out during the day. But, alas, I must not think of going with you. I say not, that I will not come hereafter, if Heaven enable me to do so; but it must be after I have seen every one of my flock, who is willing to sacrifice temporal to eternal things, in safety in another land before me. Nay, nay, Albert," he said, seeing the Count about to reply, "urge me not in this matter, for I am sure I am right, and when such is the case I must be immoveable. As soon as all who are willing to go are gone, I will obey the injunction of the King, which orders the pastors and ministers of our church to quit the realm immediately----"

"Indeed!" exclaimed the Count. "Has such an order been issued? I never heard of it."

"You hear, my son, very little here," replied the old man. "Care is taken to keep unpleasant sights from the eyes of kings and courtiers.

Pomp, and pageantry, and display, luxury and feasting, and music, and games, and revelry, they are the things for palaces and capitals; not the groans and tears of the wronged and injured, not the cries and murmurs of the oppressed. Some days have pa.s.sed since the order appeared throughout all the provinces, and many of my brethren have already obeyed. I will obey it, too, but not till the last."

"Oh," cried Clemence, "dear and excellent friend, do not, do not expose yourself too far. Remember how much we may need your council and a.s.sistance hereafter. Remember what a stay and support your presence may be to the whole of your flock in other lands."

"Those who do not fulfil their duties now, Clemence," said the pastor, "upon the pretext of fulfilling them better hereafter, will fulfil none at all, my child. But say no more either of you; my determination is strong and fixed: and now, Albert," he added, with a faint smile, "find some way of measuring her finger for the ring that is to make her yours, and if you could get some friendly notary to draw up a regular contract of marriage between you against this evening, all would be complete."

Albert of Morseiul took the fair hand of his promised bride, which she gave him with a blushing cheek, to measure it for the ring that was to be the symbol of their union. Upon the very finger was that ring which he had rescued for her when it had been taken away by the band of Herval, the coronet and the cypher in diamonds; and as he gazed upon it and tried it on his own finger, to judge of the size, a brief feeling of curiosity pa.s.sed through his heart, and he thought, "This, indeed, is strange: I am about to wed one, of whose history, and fate, and circ.u.mstances, both I myself, and almost every one around me, are ignorant."

He lifted his look to her face, however, while he thus thought. Those large, pure, beautiful eyes were gazing upon him with tenderness and trust, and, replacing the ring upon her finger, he sealed his faith and confidence upon that fair hand with a kiss.

CHAPTER XI.

THE KING'S CLOSET.

During the time that the young Count was absent from Versailles and busied, as we have represented, with those schemes on which his future woe or welfare seemed beyond all doubt to depend, a scene was taking place in the palace of the King, in which the Count was more interested than he could have supposed possible, and which, as will be seen at the close of this history, was destined to affect him as much as any of his own proceedings.

The scene, then, was in the King's cabinet at Versailles. A clock of a rich and singular construction stood exactly before the Monarch, marking out to him the portions of time which he could bestow upon each separate affair as it was brought before him. A large inkstand, containing innumerable pens, and a portfolio, half filled with writing, in the King's own hand, lay upon the table; wax of four different colours, blue, red, white, and yellow, were also placed before him, in a small case of marquetry, which contained likewise several seals, and an instrument of a peculiar form for spreading the wax: the walls were ornamented with a few very choice small pictures; a number of maps were there also, and a few, but very few, books.

The Monarch was seated in a large arm chair, his right foot supported by a footstool, and his hand holding a pen as it rested on the table.

The expression of his countenance was mild but intelligent, and before him stood--a little pale indeed, and affecting, certainly, greater awe and terror than he really did feel--a man, whom, as we described him before, may be pa.s.sed over in silence as far as his personal appearance is concerned. This was no other than Jerome Riquet, the valet of the Count of Morseiul; and behind him appeared the figure of Bontems, Louis's confidential attendant, who instantly retreated in silence from the chamber, on a slow nod of the head from the King.

"Your name," said the Monarch, fixing his eyes full upon Riquet, "is, I understand, Jerome Riquet, and you are valet to the young Count of Morseiul."

"I have been his faithful valet in the field, and the camp, and the court, and the castle, for these many years, Sire," replied the man.

"And I hear," continued the King, "that you are a member of the holy catholic church, while your lord is of the religion which its professors call reformed. Now, answer me truly, how have you contrived--during the long period of service, surrounded, as you were, by Huguenot fellow servants and under a Huguenot lord--how have you contrived to fulfil the duties of your religion, I say, under such circ.u.mstances?"

"Oh, Sire, nothing so easy," replied the man. "May it please your Majesty, I was much better off, in most respects, than my brother Catholics; for on a fast day, Sire, by my lord's order, on my account, there was either fish, or some other meagre dish prepared, so that I had my choice. I could fast and grow thin, or sin and grow fat, as I thought fit."

The King's countenance fell a little at an uncalled-for joke in his presence, especially on a subject which, in his eyes, was of serious importance. Louis, however, was very rarely disposed to say a harsh word, unless it was impossible to help it; and he therefore pa.s.sed over the valet's levity with merely the reproof of that displeased look, and then again demanded,--

"So, then, your lord gave you every facility of fulfilling the duties of your religion?"

"The greatest, Sire," replied the man. "Except when we were in Holland, where there was no Catholic church to be found, he has always driven me to ma.s.s as if with a scourge. Even at Morseiul, scarcely a Sunday pa.s.sed without his telling me to go to ma.s.s, and asking me if I had been."

"This looks well for the young gentleman," said the King, seemingly well pleased with the account the man afforded. "We have had different stories at court--that he was rank and bigoted, and furious against the Catholic religion."

"Lord bless your Majesty!" exclaimed the man, "he is more than three quarters of a Catholic himself, and if the devil gets the other quarter it will only be because the Count is driven to him."

"Speak not profanely, Sir, of things that are serious," said the King, "nor presume, in my presence, to venture upon such jests."

As he spoke, the whole aspect of his countenance changed, his brow grew dark, his lip curled, his voice became deeper, his head more erect, and that indescribable majesty, for which he was famous, took possession of his person, making the unfortunate Jerome Riquet ready to sink into the earth.

"Now, Sir," continued the King, "be not frightened; but give me clear and straight-forward answers in a serious tone. What you have told me of your young lord is satisfactory to me. I am most anxious to do him good and to show him favour. I have marked his gallant conduct as a soldier, and his upright and n.o.ble demeanour as a French gentleman, and I would fain save him from the destruction to which obstinacy may lead him. You say that he is three parts a Catholic already, and would be one altogether if it were not--at least so I understand you--that some one drove him to the contrary conduct. Now, who is it drives him, Sir? Speak to me plainly and explicitly, and no harm shall come to you.--Have you lost your tongue, Sir, or are you struck dumb?" the King continued, seeing that Riquet remained silent, while his whole frame seemed to work with terror and agitation.

Perhaps, had his lord been there, he might have discovered, at once, that Riquet was working himself up to a.s.sume an immense deal more of terror than he really felt; but the King, conscious of having a.s.sumed an overawing look which he had often seen produce effects somewhat similar, believed the fear of the valet to be entirely real, and was not at all surprised to see Riquet suddenly cast himself at his feet and burst into an amazing flood of tears.

"If I have offended your Majesty," cried the man, with a species of orientalism which was not at all displeasing to the ears of the despotic monarch of the French, "if I have offended your Majesty, take my head! But you are now proceeding to question me upon matters in which what I have to tell and to speak of, may produce the most terrible results. I know not every word I utter that I may not be doing wrong--I know not that every word may not cost my life--and unless your Majesty will deign to grant me in writing your full and free pardon for all that I have done, I dare not, indeed I dare not go on; or if I do, terror will make me prevaricate, and attempt to conceal facts that the wisdom of your Majesty will soon discover."

"Nay, nay," exclaimed the King; "before I give you such pardon, my good friend, I must know to what it extends. You may have committed twenty crimes, for aught I know; you may be a relapsed heretic, for aught I know."

"So help me G.o.d, Sire, no," exclaimed the man vehemently: "I am a sincere, devout, and zealous Catholic, and have been so all my life.

Here is the certificate of the parish priest in Poitou, Sire, in order that I might have the benefit of the indulgence," and he drew forth from his pocket a small piece of written paper which Louis read attentively, and which bestowed upon him so high a character for devotion to the Catholic faith, and for various other extraordinary virtues, that Louis thought he could not be far wrong in a.s.suring him of the pardon he wanted, especially as Riquet, while he read, had relapsed into a pa.s.sion of tears, and the moments allotted to the task of examining him were fleeting rapidly away. "Well," he said, "to make you at ease, I will grant you the pardon, under some conditions."

"And pray put in, Sire," cried Riquet, with real joy sparkling in his eyes, "pray put in that you take me under your royal protection, for fear the Count should be angry, or any of the heretics should attempt to take vengeance upon me.

"That I will do also," replied Louis, and taking the pen he wrote rapidly a paper which, according to the old English form, would have been somewhat to the following effect, though the beginning of it, "_A tous ceux_," &c. may be somewhat freely translated.

"Know all men by these presents, that we, for especial reasons thereunto us moving, have granted our full and free pardon unto the person called Jerome Hardouin Riquet, for all crimes or offences that he may have committed up to the date of these presents, always excepted any crime which he may have committed against the holy church or our sovereign state of which he is not at this time charged, and which may be hereafter proved against him, and that we do also take the said Jerome Hardouin Riquet under our especial protection, warning all men to have regard unto the same, for such is our will.

"Louis."