Volume Ii Part 1 (1/2)

Henry of Guise.

Vol. II.

by G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford) James.

CHAPTER I.

All was bustle round the door of the little inn of Montigny; twenty or thirty horses employed the hands and attention of as many grooms and stable-boys; and while they put their heads together, and talked over the perfections or imperfections of the beasts they held, sixty or seventy respectable citizens, the great cloth merchant, and the wholesale dealer in millstones, the cure of the little town, the bailiff of the high-justiciary, the ironmonger, the grocer, and the butcher, stood in knots on the outside, discussing more important particulars than the appearance of the horses. The sign of the inn was the _Croix de Lorraine_, and the name of the Duke of Guise was frequently heard mingling in the conversation of the people round the door.

”A great pity,” cries one, ”that his Highness does not stay here the night.”

”Some say that the King's troops are pursuing him,” replied another.

”Sure enough he came at full speed,” said a third; ”but I heard his people talk about the reiters.”

”Oh, we would protect him against the reiters,” cried one of the bold citizens of Montigny.

”Well,” said another, ”if he be likely to bring the reiters upon us, I think his Highness very wise to go. How could we defend an open town?

and he has not twenty men behind him.”

”I will tell you something, my masters,” said another, with an air of importance, and a low bow:--”When my boy was over towards Montreuil to-night, he heard a report of the reiters having been defeated near Gandelu.”

”Oh, nonsense!” replied the courageous burgher; ”who should defeat them if the Duke was not there?”

”But hark!” cried another, ”I hear trumpets, as I live. Now, if these should be the King's troops we will defend the Duke at the peril of our lives. But let us look out and see.”

”Come up to my windows,” cried one.

”Go up the tower of the church,” said the cure.

But another remarked that the sounds did not come from the side of Paris; and, in a minute or two after, a well-dressed citizen like themselves rode gaily in amongst them, jumped from his horse, threw up his cap in the air, and exclaimed, ”Long life to the Duke of Guise!

The reiters have been cut to pieces!”

”What is that you say, young man?” exclaimed a voice from one of the windows of the inn above; and looking up, the citizen saw a young and gay-looking man sitting in the open cas.e.m.e.nt, and leaning out with his arm round the iron bar that ran up the centre.

”I said, my Lord,” replied the man, ”that the reiters have been cut to pieces, and I saw the troops that defeated them bring in the wounded and prisoners last night into La Ferte.”

”Ventre bleu! This is news indeed,” cried the other; and instantly turning, he quitted the window and advanced into the room.

While this conversation had been going on without, a quick conference had been going on between the personages whose horses were held without. The chamber in which they were a.s.sembled was an upstairs'

room, with two beds in two several corners, and a table in the midst covered with a clean white table-cloth, and ornamented in the centre with a mustard-pot, a salt-seller, and a small bottle of vinegar, while four or five spoons were ranged around.

At the side of the table appeared the Duke of Guise, dining with as good an appet.i.te off a large piece of unsalted boiled beef, as off any of the fine stews and salmis of his cook Maitre Lanecque. Five or six other gentlemen were around, diligently employed in the same occupation; and one who had finished two bowls of soup at a place where they had previously stopped, now declaring that he had no appet.i.te, had taken his seat in the window. The servants of the Duke and of his companions were at dinner below, and the landlord himself was excluded from the room, that dining and consultation might go on at the same time.

”It is most unfortunate,” said the Duke of Guise, as soon as he had seated himself at the table, ”it is most unfortunate that this youth has not kept his word with me. Our horses and men are both fatigued to death; and yet, after what happened the other day at Mareuil, it would be madness to remain here all night with only twenty hors.e.m.e.n.”

”You have got timid, fair cousin,” replied one of the gentlemen present. ”We shall have you wrapping yourself up in a velvet gown, and setting up a conferrie, in imitation of our excellent, n.o.ble, and manly king.”

The Duke w as habitually rash enough to be justified in laughing at the charge, and he replied, ”It is on your account, my pretty cousin, that I fear the most. You know what the reiters have sworn to do with you, if they catch you.”