Volume I Part 13 (1/2)
He turned suddenly from the path, however, and plunged his horse down the banks into the neighbouring meadow, as soon as he saw the body of men at arms; but though the young Count judged it useless to pursue him, the faint light that was in the sky was quite sufficient to enable him to judge that he belonged to a part of the marauding band which had been defeated in the morning. He concluded, naturally and rightly, that he was one of those who had followed the party of his brother Gaspar, and had probably pursued it towards Jouarre. A moment or two after, the sound of coming horses again met his ear; and, ordering some of his men to advance, and cut off the way into the meadow, he halted the rest of the troop, and waited in listening expectation.
At the end of a few minutes, three more hors.e.m.e.n appeared, and dashed into the very midst of the ambush that the young Count had laid for them.
”Halt, and surrender!” he cried in a loud tone, ordering his men at the same time to close round them; and the reiters, for such indeed they were, finding escape impossible, yielded without resistance. From them Charles of Montsoreau found that his suspicions were true, and that they formed part of the band which had pursued his brother towards La Ferte. He could gain no further information, however, from the men he had taken, except that the Marquis had effected his retreat in safety, and that a large body of armed burghers, coming out from La Ferte, had forced the reiters to fly with all speed.
Having given the prisoners in charge to those who would not lose sight of them, Charles of Montsoreau resumed his march; and, as his band approached La Ferte, their trumpet sang cheerily out in the clear night, giving notice to the citizens of the arrival of a friendly party.
The streets were now full of horses and people, the red light of the torches flas.h.i.+ng upon the eager and excited countenances of those who had taken part in the affray; and, by the glare, Charles of Montsoreau easily distinguished the chief inn, with a number of horses held around the door, and a group of fifteen or sixteen persons gathered together round one, in whom he at once recognised his brother.
Perhaps Charles of Montsoreau had not any cause to be more satisfied with that brother's conduct during the eventful day which had just pa.s.sed, than he had been with that which preceded his departure from Montsoreau. But fraternal affection was strong at his heart, and halting his men in the market-place, he rode up with the page and two or three others to gratulate his brother, and ask how he fared after the perils he had undergone. He was surprised, however, as he came near, to see a heavy cloud lowering on the Marquis's brow, and his eyes rolling with an expression both fierce and anxious.
”So, Charles of Montsoreau,” he exclaimed in a loud harsh tone, even before his brother could dismount, ”so you have come to render an account of your conduct this day, I trust, and to explain away the treachery which is but too evident.”
The young Count heard him with surprise, as may be well supposed; but he saw that he was under the excitement of some strong pa.s.sion, and instantly dismounting from his horse, he walked up to his brother through the crowd, holding out his hand, and saying, ”Gaspar, you are under some mistake. How do you fare? You shall explain to me what is the matter within.”
But the Marquis put his hand angrily by, exclaiming, ”I take no hand stained with such treachery, even though it be my brother's. I care not who sees or who hears. I suppose, sir, you have brought the Lady with you, whom you have contrived to rescue once more, by first leading her into danger, that you might then deliver her from it.”
”I can hardly suppose you sane, Gaspar de Montsoreau,” replied his brother at length. ”What danger have I led you or any one else into?
though you say true, when you say that I have delivered you, even when you thought fit to give me no a.s.sistance. But I ask again, What danger have I led you into, or any one else? What is it that you mean?”
”Pshaw!” exclaimed his brother, turning away with a look of contempt, which was very hard to bear. ”You had better bring the Lady into the house, sir, and let her take some repose; and if she be not altogether blinded, I will take care to explain to her how all this day's brilliant achievements have been brought about.”
”In the name of G.o.d, Gaspar of Montsoreau!” exclaimed his brother, at length, ”what is it that you mean? What Lady? Where is Mademoiselle de Clairvaut? What madness has seized upon you now?”
Gaspar of Montsoreau took a step forward, till he almost touched his brother, and demanded in a voice that was loud, but that trembled with pa.s.sion, ”Did I not see your page, that very page who is holding your horse now--that very page, who was pointed out to me by one that knows him well, as your bought bondsman--did I not see him--can you deny it?--did I not see him with the reiters at the moment that they charged down the hill upon us? And then I saw him by your side five minutes after, when you came pretending to a.s.sist us.”
”The man's mad, or drunk!” said the boy aloud; but Charles of Montsoreau turned upon him sharply, exclaiming, ”Hus.h.!.+ Remember, sir, he is my brother!”
”I am sorry that he is, sir,” replied the boy. ”He might see me near the reiters, but he never saw me with them, for I had been watching them for half an hour, concealed behind a great ma.s.s of bushes, and not daring to stir for my very life, till I saw them begin to ride down the hill, when I came out and galloped as fast as I could to tell my n.o.ble Lord, and bring him up to attack them.--Out upon it!--Pretending to help any one, when there is scarcely a man in the troop unwounded!--Out upon it!--Pretending to attack the reiters, when he has well nigh cut them to pieces, and not left two men together of the whole band!”
The boy spoke loud and indignantly, and at the joyful news of the marauders being cut to pieces, a glad shout burst from the town's people, who had gathered round, listening with no small surprise to the dispute between the two brothers.
”For Heaven's sake, Gaspar,” said Charles of Montsoreau, ”govern your feelings for a few minutes. I am here on the service of the n.o.ble Duke of Guise, and set out from Logeres only three days ago. I had heard of the reiters by the way, and determined to fight them if I met them.
The first moment that I saw or had any communication with them--on my honour and on my soul!-was that when I ordered my men to level their lances, and charge them in the flank. You have nothing to do but either to look at the banks of the stream, where they lay by dozens, to speak to the prisoners I have brought in, or to take one glance into those litters and those carts that carry my own wounded, to show you that it was no feigned strife, as you have wildly fancied, that went on between us. And now believing this, and feeling that you have done me wrong, tell me where is Mademoiselle de Clairvaut, for your words alarm and agitate me concerning her? Where is she, Gaspar? I say where is she?”
”I know not,” said the Marquis, turning sullenly away, ”I know not, Charles. In the last charge of the reiters, which happened nearly at night-fall, they drove us beyond the carriage, and I have seen no more of her. The Abbe, however, was with her, and he has not come up either; two or three of the men, too, were there.”
”Bring up the prisoners,” exclaimed Charles of Montsoreau, with a degree of agony of mind that it is impossible to conceive. ”These men can give us information, for we took them on the road just now.--Bring up those prisoners.”
With their arms tied, and their heads uncovered, the three Germans, who had endeavoured, as was customary with many of their bands, to make themselves look as fierce and terrible as possible, by suffering their hair and beards to grow in confused and tangled ma.s.ses, were now brought before the young commander; and gazing sternly upon them, he said, ”You are here not as fair and open enemies, but as plunderers and marauders, after the generals who brought you here have retreated from the land, and entered into a treaty with the King of this country. Your only way, then, of obtaining any portion of mercy is, by answering the questions I am going to ask you distinctly and truly; for if I catch the slightest wavering or falsehood in your replies, I will have you shot one by one within the next five minutes, as a just punishment for the crimes that you have committed.”
His words seemed to make little or no impression upon men accustomed to the daily contemplation of death. They all seemed to understand him, however, though it was with difficulty that they answered him in his own language, mingling German with French, so as to render it nearly unintelligible.
”We will tell you the truth to be sure,” replied one of the men. ”What should we tell you a lie for? All that ought to be lied about you know already; so we can do no harm by telling you the truth, and may do our own throats harm by telling you a lie. Hundred thousand! Ask your questions, and you shall have truth.”
It was in vain, however, that Charles of Montsoreau questioned the man sternly and strictly in regard to what had become of Marie de Clairvaut, and those who were with her. It was evident that he knew nothing. He admitted that they had driven the party of the Marquis beyond the carriage, and had pa.s.sed it themselves in the eagerness of pursuit; but the sudden appearance of the armed burghers of La Ferte had caused them, he said, to retreat in great haste, and in separate parties. He and those who were with him had not taken the same road by which they came, and had seen nothing of the carriage.
This information, though so scanty, afforded Charles of Montsoreau a hope. ”If the road,” he exclaimed eagerly, ”on which these men were captured, is not the same on which the carriage was left, it may still be there, and Mademoiselle de Clairvaut safe.”
But his brother shook his head with an air of sullen grief and despair. ”No!” he said, ”No, the carriage is not there! I have been out myself to seek it, and have pa.s.sed the spot. Not a trace of it was to be seen, and I only returned when I heard your trumpets, believing that you were bringing in your prize in triumph.”