Vayenne Part 52

"Yes, mademoiselle, one--you."

Christine laughed, and her thoughts flew back to Vayenne and to Roger Herrick. Full well she knew that her prince had come long ago. It seemed almost as though the strong walls of circ.u.mstance and the sentries which keep vigilant watch over the affairs of men had shut him out.

The twilight was deepening into night as they drew near to Pa.s.sey. The chateau stood gaunt against the fading light in the western horizon, and Lucille shivered, while even Christine's fingers tightened on the reins. Perched on its hill, grim and alone, the chateau looked uninviting to-night. A feeble light glimmered here and there in the village, but no light shone from the summit of the hill. Ghosts might well be the only inhabitants of those ghostly walls, and as they rode forward the light in the west and the chateau vanished in the night as though it had been the mere outline of a dream.

A few doors were opened at the unwonted clatter as they went through the village street, and then they rode into the court-yard. There was a sentry by the gateway, and one of the ruined guard-rooms seemed to have been repaired. There was a light there, and Christine saw the shadowy figures of two or three soldiers. Some change had been made, and then she remembered that this was to be her prison, and that, of necessity, there must be men to guard it. Lemasle a.s.sisted her to dismount, and, silhouetted against the light within, the figure of the old Viscount stood on the threshold to receive her.

"Welcome, mademoiselle, to the Chateau of Pa.s.sey," he said.

"I am grateful at having so courteous a jailer," she answered. "This child loves me enough to share my banishment for a time."

The old man bowed to Lucille.

"I hope you will consider me your host," he said to Christine, "and not think of me as a jailer. There is no great severity here. I will take you to the rooms which have been prepared for you."

He led the way across the wide hall and up the stairs. At the top he paused, and, opening a door, turned to Lucille.

"Will you wait here for a few moments? Mademoiselle de Liancourt shall first see whether she approves of the arrangements which have been made, and will return to you."

Without a word Christine followed the Viscount along a corridor, and then as they approached the end of it she stopped.

"Is one of my rooms to be that which Maurice used to have?"

"Yes, mademoiselle. The Duke thought you would like to have it."

"It was a kind thought," Christine said.

"The people of Montvilliers have much to learn concerning Duke Roger,"

said the Viscount. "For once we are ahead of the times in Pa.s.sey, and love him already."

"Perhaps I shall learn the lesson easily in Pa.s.sey," Christine answered.

"I hope so, mademoiselle. You will find this room little changed." And the Viscount stood aside to let her enter. He did not follow her in, but, closing the door, walked back along the corridor.

Lighted candles were upon a table at the far end of the room, and a man rose from a deep chair, and came toward her.

"I have been expecting you, Christine."

"Maurice!"

Even as she spoke his name, tears of joy and excitement at this sudden and unexpected revelation in her eyes, her thoughts flew to Roger Herrick. She understood the meaning of his parting words now. And as Maurice told her of his slow recovery; his waking to consciousness to find that he was in the hands of his enemies; his refusal to purchase his freedom by accepting their help to regain his kingdom and to hold it as a tributary state; his close confinement in the tower by Larne; the sudden coming of Roger Herrick, and all that he had achieved upon the frontier; Christine began to understand the character of the Duke better.

"And what is the Duke's purpose with regard to you now?" she asked at length.

"I hardly know," Maurice answered. "He would send for me presently to come to Vayenne, he said, but for a little while I was to return to Pa.s.sey. I was glad to be back in the dear old place, to have my books about me again, but somehow, Christine, they had lost part of their charm for me. The scholar of Pa.s.sey has changed. Side by side with Roger Herrick I had struck a good blow that day at the clearing in the forest, and after my rescue from the tower at Larne I rode by his side again, fighting, and a different man. I wanted to prove to him that I was a man, and a fighter, something more than a pale student. In his presence I felt all the spirit of my fathers rise in me, bubbling up joyously like water from a newly tapped spring. No one else's opinion counted to me but his. There were few who knew even who I was. I have not been a prominent person in Vayenne."

"And now, Maurice?" questioned Christine.

"Do I look only a scholar now?" said Maurice, drawing himself up, and standing before her. "I shall have some place about the Duke, high place, I doubt not, since I intend to make myself worthy of it."

"And the last time I came to Pa.s.sey it was to persuade you to go to Vayenne to be crowned," mused Christine.

"I have no quarrel with Duke Roger," laughed Maurice. "I recognize his claim, and I know that Montvilliers is ruled by the right man, the man who will make history for her."

"Yes; I feel that too," said Christine.

"So again you come to Pa.s.sey on an important mission," Maurice went on. "You come to summon me to Vayenne to prove myself a man."

"What are you saying, Maurice? You have been misled. You are wrong, indeed; you are wrong. I come to Pa.s.sey a prisoner."

"A prisoner! You!"

"To the Duke I have been a traitor. This castle is to be my prison during his pleasure."

"I do not believe it. The Duke said--ah! he would make no false promise. I would trust his word against the sworn oath of other men. I do not believe it." And Maurice went to the door, and shouted loudly for the Viscount.

The old man came hastily along the corridor. "Viscount, is it true that mademoiselle has come here as a prisoner?"

"In a sense it is true, but now she is here she is to have perfect liberty of action," said Dupre. "The Duke has certain wishes concerning you, mademoiselle, which are contained in this paper. I was commanded to give it you after you had seen your cousin."

Christine took the paper, and opened it.

"Mademoiselle, once before you journeyed to Pa.s.sey to summon Maurice to the capital. This time we pray you be our messenger. Tell him the Duke has need of him, and bring him to Vayenne. Roger."

Christine handed the paper to her cousin.

"I knew there was some mistake," he said. "It is evident he thinks little of your treachery; is it very hard, Christine, to be the Duke's messenger?"

"I was commanded to see that you rested here to-morrow, and returned the day after to Vayenne," said the Viscount. "Have I your permission to give these instructions to the captain of your escort?"

"Yes," she said after a pause. "May I go to my room, and will you send Lucille to me?"

"Who is Lucille?" asked Maurice.

"You shall see her presently."

"Christine, you are not glad that I am going to Vayenne," Maurice said, as he held the door open for her.

"Yes--yes, I am; but you don't understand, and--and I want to be alone."

It was Maurice who showed Lucille over the ruined castle, stood with her looking over the village below and across the open country from the broken walls, and steadied her as they climbed down the narrow, worn steps to the dungeons, which had received no prisoners for generations, he told her. They had not been long together before he had learned her history, and he told her that he would ask Duke Roger to restore the fortunes of her family.

"He is the most splendid Duke Montvilliers has ever had," he said enthusiastically.

"I wish I were a man to serve him," answered the girl, catching the enthusiasm from her companion.

"I'm very glad you are not," he answered, and then feeling that he was unequal to explaining his words, he hurried her to some other interesting point of the castle.