While he thus spoke, he kept fumbling to open the postern of which he spoke, until the King said, "Forbear, old man – forbear but a little while, when thou mayst have a newer tale to tell, and fresher blood to show. – My Lord of Crèvecoeur, what say you?"
"I can but answer, Sire, that these two interior apartments are as much at your Majesty's disposal as those in your own Castle at Plessis, and that Crèvecoeur, a name never blackened by treachery or assassination, has the guard of the exterior defences of it."
"But the private passage into that closet, of which the old man speaks?" This King Louis said in a low and anxious tone, holding Crèvecoeur's arm fast with one hand, and pointing to the wicket door with the other.
"It must be some dream of Mornay's," said Crèvecoeur, "or some old and absurd tradition of the place; – but we will examine."
He was about to open the closet door, when Louis answered, "No, Crèvecoeur, no – Your honour is sufficient warrant. – But what will your Duke do with me, Crèvecoeur? He cannot hope to keep me long a prisoner; and – in short, give me your opinion, Crèvecoeur."
"My Lord and Sire," said the Count, "how the Duke of Burgundy must resent this horrible cruelty on the person of his near relative and ally, is for your Majesty to judge; and what right he may have to consider it as instigated by your Majesty's emissaries, you only can know. But my master is noble in his disposition, and made incapable, even by the very strength of his passions, of any underhand practices. Whatever he does, will be done in the face of day, and of the two nations. And I can but add, that it will be the wish of every counsellor around him – excepting perhaps one – that he should behave in this matter with mildness and generosity, as well as justice."
"Ah! Crèvecoeur," said Louis, taking his hand as if affected by some painful recollections, "how happy is the Prince who has counsellors near him, who can guard him against the effects of his own angry passions! Their names will be read in golden letters, when the history of his reign is perused. – Noble Crèvecoeur, had it been my lot to have such as thou art about my person!"
"It had in that case been your Majesty's study to have got rid of them as fast as you could," said Le Glorieux.
"Aha! Sir Wisdom, art thou there?" said Louis, turning round, and instantly changing the pathetic tone in which he had addressed Crèvecoeur, and adopting with facility one which had a turn of gaiety in it – "Hast thou followed us hither?"
"Ay, sir," answered Le Glorieux, "Wisdom must follow in motley, where Folly leads the way in purple."
"How shall I construe that, Sir Solomon," answered Louis – "Wouldst thou change conditions with me?"
"Not I, by my halidome," quoth Le Glorieux, "if you would give me fifty crowns to boot."
"Why, wherefore so? – Methinks I could be well enough contented, as princes go, to have thee for my king."
"Ay, Sire," replied Le Glorieux; "but the question is, whether, judging of your Majesty's wit from its having lodged you here, I should not have cause to be ashamed of having so dull a fool."
"Peace, sirrah!" said the Count of Crèvecoeur; "your tongue runs too fast."
"Let it take its course," said the King; "I know of no such fair subject of raillery, as the follies of those who should know better. – Here, my sagacious friend, take this purse of gold, and with it the advice, never to be so great a fool as to deem yourself wiser than other people. Prithee, do me so much favour as to enquire after my astrologer, Martius Galeotti, and send him hither to me presently."
"I will, without fail, my Liege," answered the jester; "and I wot well I shall find him at Jan Dopplethur's; for philosophers, as well as fools, know where the best wine is sold."
"Let me pray for free entrance for this learned person through your guards, Seignior de Crèvecoeur," said Louis.
"For his entrance, unquestionably," answered the Count; "but it grieves me to add, that my instructions do not authorize me to permit any one to quit your Majesty's apartments. – I wish your Majesty a good night," he subjoined, "and will presently make such arrangements in the outer hall, as may put the gentlemen who are to inhabit it, more at their ease."
"Give yourself no trouble for them, Sir Count," replied the King, "they are men accustomed to set hardships at defiance; and, to speak truth, excepting that I wish to see Galeotti, I would desire as little further communication from without this night as may be consistent with your instructions."
"These are, to leave your Majesty," replied Crèvecoeur, "undisputed possession of your own apartments. Such are my master's orders."
"Your master, Count Crèvecoeur, "answered Louis, "whom I may also term mine, is a right gracious master. – My dominions," he added, "are somewhat shrunk in compass, now that they have dwindled to an old hall and a bedchamber; but they are still wide enough for all the subjects which I can at present boast of."
The Count of Crèvecoeur took his leave; and shortly after, they could hear the noise of the sentinels moving to their posts, accompanied with the word of command from the officers, and the hasty tread of the guards who were relieved. At length all became still, and the only sound which filled the air, was the sluggish murmur of the river Somme, as it glided, deep and muddy, under the walls of the castle.
"Go into the hall, my mates," said Louis to his train; "but do not lie down to sleep. Hold yourselves in readiness, for there is still something to be done to-night, and that of moment."
Oliver and Tristan retired to the hall accordingly, in which Le Balafré and the Provost-Marshal's two officers had remained, when the others entered the bedchamber. They found that those without had thrown fagots enough upon the fire, to serve the purpose of light and heat at the same time, and, wrapping themselves in their cloaks, had sat down on the floor, in postures which variously expressed the discomposure and dejection of their minds. Oliver and Tristan saw nothing better to be done, than to follow their example; and, never very good friends in the days of their court-prosperity, they were both equally reluctant to repose confidence in each other upon this strange and sudden reverse of fortune. So that the whole party sat in silent dejection.
Meanwhile, their master underwent, in the retirement of his secret chamber, agonies that might have atoned for some of those which had been imposed by his command. He paced the room with short and unequal steps, often stood still and clasped his hands together, and gave loose, in short, to agitation, which, in public, he had found himself able to suppress so successfully. At length, pausing, and wringing his hands, he planted himself opposite to the wicket-door, which had been pointed out by old Mornay as leading to the scene of the murder of one of his predecessors, and gradually gave voice to his feelings in a broken soliloquy.
"Charles the Simple – Charles the Simple! – what will posterity call the Eleventh Louis, whose blood will probably soon refresh the stains of thine? Louis the Fool – Louis the Driveller – Louis the Infatuated – are all terms too slight to mark the extremity of my idiocy! To think these hotheaded Liegeois, to whom rebellion is as natural as their food, would remain quiet – to dream that the Wild Beast of Ardennes would, for a moment, be interrupted in his career of force and bloodthirsty brutality – to suppose that I could use reason and arguments to any good purpose with Charles of Burgundy, until I had tried the force of such exhortations with success upon a wild bull – Fool, and double idiot that I was! But the villain Martius shall not escape – He has been at the bottom of this, he and the vile priest, the detestable Balue[49]. If I ever get out of this danger, I will tear from his head the Cardinal's cap, though I pull the scalp along with it! But the other traitor is in my hands – I am yet king enough – have yet an empire roomy enough – for the punishment of the quack-salving, word-mongering, star-gazing, lie-coining impostor, who has at once made a prisoner and a dupe of me! – The conjunction of the constellations – ay, the conjunction – He must talk nonsense which would scarce gull a thrice-sodden sheep's-head, and I must be idiot enough to think I understood him! But we shall see presently what the conjunction hath really boded. But first let me to my devotions."
Note 49
Louis kept his promise of vengeance against Cardinal La Balue, whom he always blamed as having betrayed him to Burgundy. After he had returned to his own kingdom, he caused his late favourite to be immured in one of the iron cages at Loches. These were constructed with horrible ingenuity, so that a person of ordinary size could neither stand up at his full height nor lie lengthwise in them. Some ascribe this horrid device to Balue himself. At any rate, he was confined in one of these dens for eleven years, nor did Louis permit him to be liberated till his last illness.