CHAPTER XXIII.
We must now, once more, change the scene; and, leaving Ghent to proceed step by step through all the mazes of anarchy and confusion, which are sure for a time to succeed the overthrow of established authority, we must trace the events which were occurring to some of the other personages connected with this true history.
Once more, then, let us turn to the forest of Hannut, which now, in the depth of winter, offered a very different scene from that which it had displayed either in the full summer or the brown autumn. It was early in the morning of the 20th of January; and, except on the scattered beeches which, mingling here and there with the oak, and the elm, and the birch, retained their crisp brown leaves longer than any of the other trees, not a bough in the wood, but, stript of all that ornamented it in the warmer season, was encrusted with a fine white coating of glistening frost-work. Little snow, indeed, covered the ground, and that which had fallen was too hard frozen to have any tenacity, but--drifted about the forest in a fine white powder, lodged here and there amongst the withered leaves, or collected in thick sweeps upon the dingle side--it retained no form but that given to it by the wind; so that the deep footprint of the stag or boar was effaced almost as soon as made, and the only mark by which the eye of the most experienced huntsman could have traced the lair of his quarry, would have been by the hoar frost brushed off the boughs of the thickets in the animal's course through the wood.
The morning was as clear and bright as if the sun were just starting from the dark pavilion of the night, to run his race of glory through the long course of a summer's day, but the wind, whistling keenly through the woods, and tingling on the cheeks of the early forester, told that the sharp reign of winter was in the height of its power.
In a wide, open, grassy spot, about half a mile from the high road to Louvain, were collected, on the morning to which I refer, about a dozen of our good friends the green riders. One or two were on horseback; but the greater part had dismounted, and were employing themselves in all the various ways which men devise to warm themselves on a winter's morning. They were evidently waiting for some one; and though the people who are watched for by such gentry, are not generally in the most enviable situation in the world, yet, on the present occasion, the freebooters seemed to have no hostile purpose in view, and spoke of the person they expected as one of themselves.
"Cold work he will have of it, Master Matthew," said one of the adventurers, addressing the florid, white-haired old man, whom we have had occasion to notice somewhat particularly in the cavern.
"By my faith!" replied the other, "when anything disagreeable is to be done, he does not spare himself."
"Ay, but such is the leader for us," rejoined the other. "Think you he will be long? It is mighty cold, and the horses are half frozen."
"Hark!" cried his companion, "that clatter may answer your question. By the Lord! he is coming down the hill at a fearful rate, for so slippery as it is. I trust he is not pursued. Stand to your arms, my men, and be ready to mount!"
As he spoke, the sound of a horse's feet at full gallop was heard through the clear frosty air; and, in a moment after, along the little road--which wound away from the open space where the adventurers were collected over the side of a steep acclivity--was seen a man on horseback, darting down towards them, without the slightest apparent regard to the sharpness of the descent, or the slipperiness of the road. He was armed like themselves, but with the distinction, that instead of the open basinet, or round steel cap, without visor, which they wore, his head was covered by a plumed casque, the beaver of which was down.
He drew not a rein till he was in the midst of them; then, with one slight touch, checked his horse and vaulted to the ground. The haste in which he had arrived was now equalled by the rapidity of his words, as he gave a number of different orders to the men who surrounded him, clearly and precisely, but with a celerity which showed that no time was to be lost.
"Matthew, my good lieutenant," he said, laying his hand upon the shoulder of the old man, "who is fittest to send to Germany, on an errand to a prince?"
"Why not myself?" demanded the adventurer.
"Because I want you here, and cannot do without you," replied the chief.
"Well, then, send Walter there," rejoined the old man; "he is a Frenchman, and courtly in his way."
"Courtly and honest, too," added the Vert Gallant, "which is a wonder. There, Master Walter, take that letter to the Bishop of Triers. You will find him at Cologne with the bishop of that city. There, mount and be gone! you know your way. Here is a purse of gold to pay your expenses. The bishop will send you on to the archduke. The Germans are frugal; therefore be not you over fine. Yet spare not the florins, where it may do honour to him that sent you. Away!"
"You, good Matthew, yourself," continued the Vert Gallant, "speed like lightning to Ghent; but cast off your steel jacket, and robe me yourself like the good burgher of a country town. Seek out your old friend Martin Fruse: confer with him, and with his nephew Albert Maurice; they are now all powerful in Ghent. Bid them beware of Louis King of France. Tell them it is his purpose to force the Princess Mary into a marriage with his puny son, and to make her yield her fair lands into his hand, that he himself may seize them all when death lays hold upon his sickly boy. Bid them oppose it by all means, but by none more than by delay. Risk not your person, however; and if you cannot speak with them in safety, write down the message, and have it given by another hand. You, Frank Van Halle--you are bold and shrewd, though you have but little speech: follow Matthew Gournay, habited as his man; but when you are within the walls of Ghent, find out some way of speech with the princess; and, whether in public or in private, give her that ring, with this small slip of paper. Then leave the city as quickly as you may."
"I doubt me it will be sure death?" replied Van Halle, looking up with an inquiring glance. "What! you afraid, Van Halle!" exclaimed his leader; "but go; there is no fear."
"Afraid! No, no," answered the man; "but I only thought, if I were to die, I would go home first, and, with Martin of Gravelines and Dick Drub-the-Devil, would drink out the pipe of sack I bought: pity it should be wasted."
"Keep it for another time," said the Vert Gallant, "for, by my faith, your errand to Ghent will never stop your drinking it."
"Well, well, if I die, tell the other two to finish it," rejoined Van Halle; "pity it should be wasted;" and so sprang on his horse.
"Hold, Matthew," cried the Vert Gallant, as the two soldiers were about to depart without more words; "meet me five days hence in the wood between Swynaerde and Deynse. So lose no time. You know the red cross near Astene."
The two instantly rode off; and the Vert Gallant then turned to the others, and continued his orders, for marching the whole force he had under his command, which seemed to be considerable, into the woods in the neighbourhood of Ghent.
Those woods, though then very extensive, and covering acres of ground which are now in rich cultivation, were nevertheless too small to afford perfect shelter and concealment for such a large body of adventurers as had long tenanted the vaster and less frequented forest-tracks near Hannut, unless the entire band were subdivided into many smaller ones, and distributed through various parts of the country. All this, however, was foreseen and arranged by the leader of the free companions; and it is probable that he also trusted to the distracted state of the country--throughout which anything like general police was, for the time, at an end--for perfect immunity in his bold advance to the very gates of the capital of Flanders.
All his orders were speedily given, and one by one his companions left him, as they received their instructions, so that at length he stood alone. He paused for a moment on the spot, patting the neck of his strong fiery horse; and--as men will sometimes do when they fancy themselves full of successful designs, and are excited by the expectation of great events--addressing to the nearest object of the brute creation those secret outbreakings of the heart, which he might have feared to trust in the unsafe charge of human beings.
"Now, my bold horse, now," he exclaimed, "the moment is come, for which, during many a long year, I have waited and watched. The star of my house is once more in the ascendant, and the reign of tyranny is at an end; let him who dares, stand between me and my right, for not another hour will I pause till justice is fully done."
While he was thus speaking, a sort of slight distant murmur came along, so mingled with the whistling of the wind, that he had to listen for some moments before he could ascertain whether it proceeded merely from the increased waving of the boughs occasioned by the gale rising, or whether it was the distant sound of a number of persons travelling along the road which he had just passed.
He was soon satisfied; and as he clearly distinguished voices, and the jingling tramp of a travelling party of that day, he sprang upon his charger, leaped him over a small brook that trickled half-congealed through the grass, and plunged into a deep thicket beyond, the bushes and trees of which were of sufficient height to screen him from the observation of the passengers.
The party whose tongues he had heard soon came to the spot where he had lately stood. It comprised about thirty people, all well armed, and dressed splendidly, bearing the straight cross, which at that time distinguished France from Burgundy. The magnificent apparel of the whole body, the number of the men-at-arms of which it was principally composed, together with certain signs of peaceful dispositions on their own part, evinced at once, to the practised eye that watched them, that the cavalcade which came winding along the road consisted of some envoy from France and his escort; furnished, probably, with those letters of safe-conduct which guarded them from any hostile act on the part of the government of the country through which they passed, but prepared to resist any casual attacks from the lawless bands that were then rife.
Not exactly at the head of the cavalcade--for two stout archers, armed at all points, led the way--but at the head of the principal body, appeared a small, dark, ill-featured man, whose person even an extraordinary display of splendour in his apparel, sufficed not to render anything but what it was, insignificant. Velvet and gold and nodding plumes could do nought in his favour; and the only thing which made his appearance in any degree remarkable, was an air of silent, calm, and determined cunning, which had in it something fearful from its very intensity. One gazed upon him as on a serpent, which, however small and powerless in appearance, inspires terror in much mightier things than itself, from the venom of its fangs.
He rode on quietly, speaking little to any one; and that which he did say was all uttered in a calm, soft, insinuating tone, which corresponded well with the expression of his countenance. The rest of the party laughed and talked with much less ceremony and restraint than the presence of so dignified a person as an ambassador might have required, had he been by state and station fit to have inspired respect. Such seemed not to be the case in the present instance; and though not one word on any other than the most common-place subjects passed amongst the followers of the Count de Meulan--for so the ambassador was called--yet their light laughter and gay jokes, breaking forth every moment close to his ear, were anything but reverential.
Some little difficulty seemed now to occur in regard to the road that the party were travelling. It appeared that hitherto, on turning slightly from the high road, they had followed the foot-marks of the Vert Gallant's charger; taking them for those left by the horse of an avant-courier, who had been despatched to prepare for them at the next town. When they found, however, that the steps turned into the savannah, and lost themselves in a number of others, a halt immediately took place; and, after a short consultation, by order of the ambassador, the whole party wheeled round, and wisely returned to the high road.
Their whole proceedings, however, had been watched by one they knew not of; and almost before they were out of sight, the Vert Gallant emerged from his concealment, and, with a laugh which rang with contempt, turned his horse's head and galloped away.
The Count de Meulan--or, in other words, Olivier le Dain, the barber of Louis XI. whom that monarch had raised from the lowest class for the basest qualities, and whom he now sent as ambassador, to treat with the young heiress of Burgundy, and to intrigue with her subjects--had hardly proceeded two hours on the high road, when a fat rolling monk of the order of St. Francis, mounted on a sleek mule, the picture of himself, joined the rear of the ambassador's escort, and entering into jovial conversation with some of the men-at-arms, besought their leave to travel as far as they went on the road to Ghent under their protection, alleging that the country was in such a disturbed state, that even a poor brother like himself could not pursue his journey in any safety. The light-hearted Frenchmen easily granted his request, observing, in an under tone to each other, that Oliver the Devil--such was the familiar cognomen of the respectable personage they followed--could not in all conscience travel without a monk in his train.
Father Barnabas, whom we have seen before, no sooner found himself added to the suite of the ambassador, than he displayed all those qualities he well knew would make his society agreeable to the men-at-arms who had given him protection; and by many a jolly carouse, and many a licentious bacchanalian song, he soon won favour on all hands. Even the barber count himself, whose more sensual propensities were only restrained by his cunning, found no fault with the merry friar, whose sly and cutting jests, combined with the sleek and quiet look of stupidity which always accompanied them, found means to draw up even his lip into a smile, that might have been mistaken for a sneer. On one occasion he felt disposed to put some shrewd questions to worthy Father Barnabas as to his situation and pursuits, and even began to do so on the second night of their journey, as, occupying the best seat by the fire in the little hostelrie at which they lodged, he eyed the impenetrable fat countenance before him with the sort of curiosity one feels to pry into anything that we see will be difficult to discover.
But the monk was at least his match; and if the weapons with which they engaged in the keen contest of their wits were not precisely the same on both parts, the combat resembled that of the elephant and the rhinoceros; whenever Oliver the wicked strove to seize the monk and close with him, his antagonist ran under him and gored him. Thus, when, by some casual words, the envoy thought he had discovered that his companion was a native of Saarvelt, and suddenly put the question to him at once, the other replied, "No, no; I only remember it well, on account of a barber's boy who was there, and whose real name was--pho! I forget his real name; but he is a great man now-a-days, and has held a basin under the nose of a king."
The quiet, unconscious manner in which this was said, left Olivier le Dain, with all his cunning, in doubt whether the jolly friar really recognised in him the barber's boy of Saarvelt, or whether the allusion had been merely accidental; but he resolved not to interrogate any more a person of such a memory, and possibly determined to take care that the most effectual stop should be put to its exercise in future, if those plans regarding Ghent should prove successful, in the execution of which he was now engaged.
Too wise, however, to show any harshness towards the monk at the time--a proceeding which would have pointed home the sarcasm for his men-at-arms, on whose faces he thought he had remarked a sneering smile as the other spoke--he allowed good father Barnabas still to travel under his escort, meditating a lesson for him when he arrived at his journey's end, which some might have thought severe. In the meantime, as they journeyed on, there was about the monk a sort of subdued triumph--a self-satisfied chuckle in his laugh, especially when he jested with the gay and boasting Frenchmen upon their arms and their exploits--which occasionally wakened a suspicion in the mind of Olivier le Dain, whose own conduct was far too crooked for him to believe that any one else could act straightforwardly.
Still no danger appeared; and the party arrived in perfect safety, within about four leagues of Ghent. There, after pausing for supper at an inn, it was found, on preparing to resume their journey, and enter the city that night, that the person who had hitherto guided them was so drunk as hardly to be able to sit his horse. The ambassador demanded a guide of the host, but none could be found; and the worthy keeper of the inn answered, with true Flemish coolness, that he would not spare any one of his own household. "Could not the monk guide them?" he demanded. "If his eyes served him, he had seen his broad face in that part of the world before."
"Ay, marry can I, my son," replied Father Barnabas; "but I offer no service before it is asked. There is a proverb against it, man."
As the affairs he had to transact were of deep importance, and minutes were of the utmost consequence to success, Olivier le Dain, though by no means fond of riding at night, and not at all prepossessed in favour of the monk, consented to accept him as a guide; and the party accordingly set out. By a whispered arrangement between the respectable Count de Meulan and the captain of his escort, however, a large part of the armed attendants rode on at a sufficient distance before, to enable Oliver to make his retreat if he heard any attack upon this advanced guard; while the monk, riding between two troopers, close to the worthy barber, was held as a sort of hostage for the security of the road on which he was about to pilot them.
Father Barnabas, whether he perceived anything strange in this array or not, made no opposition, and jogged on contentedly upon his mule, chattering gaily as he went, and seasoning his discourse with various choice allusions to barbers, and basins, and beards, much more to the gratification of the men-at-arms than of Olivier le Dain.
Thus proceeded the cavalcade, till they reached the little wood of Swynaerde, near Merebek, where the road from Alost, in ancient days, crossed the Scheldt, over a wooden bridge, at which a certain pontage was charged upon each horse that passed. Here the mind of the barber ambassador was in some degree relieved, by hearing from the toll-taker, that all was quite quiet and safe, though six good miles still lay between him and Ghent, and that through a dark wood of tall trees. At the distance of about a mile from the bridge, was a red cross, marking the direction of four different roads, which there intersected each other; and the whole party paused, as it was too dark to read the information thereon inscribed, to receive the instructions of the monk. "Straight on! straight on!" cried Father Barnabas; and the first part of the escort moved forward, though somewhat nearer to the rest of the body than before; but the moment they had again resumed their march, there was a low, sharp whistle, and a sound of rushing and rustling all around them. Olivier le Dain, who was already following the van, drew in his rein; and the whistle, repeated a thousand times in different parts of the wood round about, showed him at once that his party was beset. Fear certainly was the predominant feeling in his mind; but even that very absorbing sensation did not banish a passion equally strong; and while he turned his horse's head to fly back to the bridge with all speed, he did not fail to say, in a voice but little changed from its ordinary calm and sustained tone, "We are betrayed! Kill the monk!"
But both Olivier's purpose of escape, and his desire of vengeance, were disappointed. At the very first whistle, the friar had slipped, unperceived, from his sleek mule, and, passing under the animal's belly, was no longer to be seen; and before the luckless ambassador could reach the road, which led away to the bridge, he found it occupied by armed men. To whichever side he turned, the same sight presented itself; and even on the highway leading to Ghent a still stronger party was interposed between him and the first division of his escort. Thus then he remained in the midst of the open square of the cross road, accompanied by about twelve attendants, and surrounded by a body of adventurers, which could not consist of less than one or two hundred, but which fear and darkness magnified into a much greater number.
The scene and situation were by no means pleasant. Not a sound was to be heard, but the echo of horses' feet ringing over the hard frozen ground, from which he justly inferred that the advanced party of his escort, by whom he was neither loved nor respected, finding themselves infinitely overmatched, had galloped off, leaving him to his fate; and nothing was to be seen in the darkness of the night, but the black trunks of the trees, slightly relieved by the colour of the ground, which was covered by a thin drift of snow, while a number of dim human forms appeared, occupying all the different roads; and a multitude of faint, dull spots of fire, drawn in a complete circle round him, showed the ambassador that the slow matches of the arquebusiers, into whose hands he had fallen, were prepared against resistance.
For a moment or two not a word was spoken; but at length a voice not far from him exclaimed, "Lord a' mercy! Only to think of the barber's boy of Saarvelt coming ambassador to Ghent! Lack a day! lack a day, Noll! lack a day! thou art become a mighty great man! Thou hast lathered and shaved to some purpose, ha, ha, ha!" And the voice of the monk was drowned in his own laughter, the contagious merriment of whose thick plum-porridge sounds instantly affected all around; and the whole forest rang and echoed to the peals.
"What would you, fair sirs?" demanded the soft silken tones of Olivier le Dain. "If laughter be all you seek, laugh on; but let me pass upon my way. If it be gold you want, there, take my purse; I make you welcome to it."
"A fool and his money!" cried the monk, snatching the purse. "But, 'faith! Master Noll, the barber, it is generous of you to give what you cannot keep unless we like it."
"Cease your fooling, monk!" said the stern voice of some one advancing from the wood. "Get off your horse, Sir Barber; you shall know my pleasure with you, when it suits me to tell it. And now answer me! How dare you, a low mechanical slave, presume to undertake a mission to the Duchess of Burgundy, without one drop of noble blood in your veins?"
"Your pardon, fair sir!" replied Oliver, dismounting slowly, and standing in an attitude of deprecation before the tall commanding figure by whom he was addressed; "your pardon; I was rendered noble by my sovereign lord the king, for the very purpose, as his letters patent will show."
"Faith! the letters patent must be miraculous ones, that could ennoble one drop of your slave's blood," replied the Vert Gallant. "There, take him away! Treat him not ill; but keep him safe and fast. Search his person, his servants, and his sumpter horses. Examine well the stuffings of the saddles, and the paddings of their coats; and bring every paper and parchment you may find."
"But listen to me, fair sir! Only hear me!" entreated Olivier le Dain. "Surely you will not show such treatment to an ambassador. My papers and my person are sacred in every Christian land."
"Pshaw!" cried the Vert Gallant. "When Louis, King of France, so far forgets what is due to a princess, as to send to the heiress of Burgundy a mean, cunning barber, as an ambassador, he can only expect that others will also forget the character with which he chooses to invest his lackey. Besides, what is it to me that you are ambassador to Burgundy? You are no ambassador to me. I am duke of the forests; and when you come as envoy to me, you shall have forest cheer. Away with him and do my bidding!"
Closely guarded, but well treated, Olivier le Dain and his attendants were detained for some days in the woods near Ghent, during the greater part of which time, though occasionally compelled to sleep in a hut of boughs, they resided generally in a small lonely house, which had belonged in former days to the forester.
At length, one morning, suddenly, while the twilight was still grey, the ambassador and his followers were called from their repose, and placed upon the horses which brought them. All their apparel and jewels were restored, as well as their arms; and of the treasure, which the barber had brought with him, for the purpose of bribing the populace of Ghent, a sufficient portion was left in his possession to maintain his dignity, but not to effect the object he had intended.
He was then told to proceed upon his way, for that he was free to come or go; and with all speed he turned his rein towards Ghent, at which place he arrived in safety, though seven days after the period that had been fixed for his appearance.
CHAPTER XXIV.
In the meantime, many events had occurred within the walls of the city of Ghent, of which some account must be given, though perhaps it may be necessary to follow the same desultory course in which they are related in shrewd old Philip de Commines and pompous Jean de Molinet.
The quelled tumult, the extinguished fire, and the prompt justice done upon some of the incendiaries, spread in a thousand shapes through the town; and as, whenever Fame has marked a hero for her own, she never fails to load him with many more honours than his due, Albert Maurice had soon acquired the reputation of a thousand miracles of skill, and courage, and judgment, far beyond the acts he had really performed. Thus, when, after a brief sleep and a hasty meal, he issued forth from his house the next morning, and rode on to the town-house, he found the people--on whose wrath for their thwarted passions he had fully counted--ready, on the contrary, to shout gratulations and plaudits on his path. At the town-house, the syndics and notables of all the trades had already assembled, and the druggist Ganay was in the very act of proposing that an address of thanks and applause should be voted to the young burgher for his noble and courageous conduct of the preceding evening. Albert Maurice, however, was not to be blinded; and even when the druggist was declaiming vehemently against the outrages of the foregoing night, and lamenting that the populace had dealt upon the eschevins without due judgment by law, the eye of the young citizen fixed upon him with a glance of keen reproach, which Ganay at once translated, and translated rightly--"You have deceived me."
To have done so, however, was no matter of shame to the dark and artful man who was speaking; and, as their eyes met, a slight smile of triumphant meaning curled his lip, while, with a fresh burst of eloquence, he called upon the assembly to testify their admiration of the man who had saved the city from pillage and conflagration. The address of thanks was carried by acclamation; and Albert Maurice soon found that it was the determination of the more active part of the citizens, under the immediate influence of Ganay, to carry forward, with eager rapidity, all those bold measures which would deprive the sovereigns of any real power for the future, and place it entirely in the hands of the people--or rather, in the hands of whatever person had courage, energy, and talent, to snatch it from their grasp, and retain it in his own. Twenty-six eschevins, together with the lieutenant-bailli, and three pensioners, were immediately elected by the citizens, to replace those who had been massacred, and to administer the law; but the grand bailli and chief pensioner were still to be chosen, and Albert Maurice with surprise heard the determination of the citizens to confound those two high offices in his own person. From the body of magistrates, three persons were selected, as a president and two consuls, as they were called, and extraordinary powers were entrusted to them. The president named at once was the chief officer of the city, Albert Maurice; and Ganay, the druggist, was added as one of the consuls. The third office was not so easily filled; and a strong attempt was made to raise to it a fierce and brutal man, whose talents perhaps appeared greater than they really were, from the total want of any of the restraints of feeling and moral principle, to limit the field in which they were exercised.
Some one, however, luckily proposed the name of worthy Martin Fruse; and his nomination, seconded by the eloquent voice of his nephew, was instantly acquiesced in by all. A slight cloud passed over the brow of the druggist, as he found his power likely to be counterbalanced by the influence of one, who, if he possessed no other quality to render him great, had at least that rectitude of feeling, which was a fearful stumbling-block in the way of crooked designs. But unchangeable determination of purpose, and unscrupulous exercise of means, had rendered the druggist so often successful in things which seemed hopeless, that he bore, with scarcely a care, any change of circumstances, confident of finding some path to his object in the end.
After one of those noisy and tumultuous assemblies, in the course of which, though no business is transacted with calm reason, an infinity of acts are performed by impulse, the meeting at the town-house broke up; and while Martin Fruse returned to his dwelling on foot, as was his usual custom, Albert Maurice and the druggist mounted their horses, and rode slowly homeward. Their conversation was long and rapid--too long, indeed, for transcription here; but the commencement of it must not be omitted, even for the sake of brevity.
"Ganay, you have deceived me!" said Albert Maurice, as soon as they were in some degree free from the crowd.
"I have!" was the calm reply of the druggist. "You are ungrateful, Albert. You have never thanked me for it. What, you would pretend you do not see cause for thanks! Had not the populace taken it into their own hands, the council must have condemned those foul vultures who have so long preyed upon us. Ay, I say must; and then whose name, but that of Albert Maurice, must have stood amongst others in the order for their death? As I have managed it, the severity was no act of yours. You have offended none--no, not even the princess; and, on the contrary, you have had the means of adding, in one night, more to your fame, than your whole life has won before. You have had an opportunity of winning honour and respect from commons and from nobles, and love and gratitude from Mary of Burgundy. Still farther, have you not in one night, in consequence of acts with which you accuse me almost as a crime--have you not climbed to the very height of power in your native land? ay, I say the height of power, for who is there, be he duke, or count, or prince, who has so much authority as he who sways the power of all the people of Flanders? A few steps more, and your hand may seize the----"
"The what?" demanded Albert Maurice, as the other paused.
"No matter," replied the druggist. "The gates of ambition are cast wide open before you; and you must on, whether you will or not."
"Ha! and who shall force me?" demanded Albert Maurice.
"Fate! Destiny!" answered the druggist. "'Tis many years ago, and you were then a mere boy; but I remember your fate was predicted in the forest of Hannut by that gloomy lord whose only commune, for many a year, had been with the bright stars. 'Twas one night when we fell accidentally into the hands of the free companions--and he foretold that you should go on from power to power, successfully through life; and that no one should check you but yourself."
"And do you believe in such vain dreams?" rejoined Albert Maurice.
"I believe," replied the druggist, gravely, "that our lot through life is immutably fixed from the cradle to the grave; that like a wild horse we may foam and plunge, or like a dull jade plod onward at a foot pace--but that the firm rider, Fate, still spurs us on upon the destined course; and when the stated goal is won, casts down the bridle on our neck, and leaves us to repose. I believe, too, that the stars, as well as many other things, may tell, to those who study them, events to come; for depend upon it, everything throughout the universe fits closely, like the blocks cut for a perfect arch; so that, from the form and position of the neighbouring stones, a person, who has deeply studied, may tell to a certainty the shape and size of any other."
Albert Maurice mused for a moment over the confession of this strange creed, and its illustration, and then demanded--"What did the old lord say concerning me?"
The druggist repeated his former words; and his young companion again mused for a brief space. Then suddenly bringing back the conversation to the matter in which it arose, he repeated--"Ganay, you have deceived me; and not for my interest, but for your own revenge. You have worked your will; and I trust that you are now sated. Better for us both to labour together as far as may be, than stand in the very outset face to face as foes. Are you contented with the blood already shed?"
"There must be one more!" said the druggist, resolutely.
"And who do you aim at now?" demanded the young citizen, with no small loathing and horror towards his companion; but yet with a conviction that, by some means, he would accomplish his purpose.
"It matters not," replied Ganay; "but set your mind at ease. The man to whom I point is less an enemy to myself than an enemy to the state; and I give you my promise that I will practise nought against his life but with your consent. So guilty is he, and so convinced shall you be of his guilt, that your own hand shall sign the warrant for his death. But, oh! Albert Maurice, if you believe that the blood shed last night is all that must be shed to effect the purposes you seek, sadly, sadly do you deceive yourself. Prepare to bid it flow like water, or betake you to a monastery! Ambition joined to faint-hearted pity, is like a tame lion at a show, led about by a woman."
"But there is such a thing as patriotism," rejoined Albert Maurice--yet he named the virtue but faintly, compared with the tone in which he would have mentioned it three days before.
"Ay," said the druggist; "patriotism! The first step to ambition--but that stage is past."
Well did Ganay know that there exists no means of persuading a human being to any course of action, so powerful as by convincing him it is inevitable. To do so, however, there must be probability as a basis; and Ganay had watched too closely the most minute turns of his companion's behaviour during many months, not to divine the spark of ambition lying half smothered at the bottom of his heart. Nor had the effect of Mary of Burgundy's eyes upon the colour and the voice of Albert Maurice been lost upon the keen spirit that followed him; and he fancied he beheld an easy method of bending him to his own purpose. He saw, indeed, that, if either by love, or any other means, he succeeded in fanning that spark of ambition into a flame, he must leave him to run his course without a struggle, or a hope to deprive him of the prize; nay, that he must aid him with his whole cunning to raise up a new authority in the land, on the basis of that which they were about to overthrow. But Ganay was not ambitious of aught but avarice and revenge; and he soon perceived that these two master passions of his soul must be gratified by Albert Maurice in his ascent to power.
As he rode on, he spoke long of their future prospects. He cast away, at once, the enthusiastic cant he had at one time assumed towards him, of patriotism and the entire abnegation of self; and, in order to habituate his mind fully to the dreams of ambition, he spoke of them as things already determined and to be. But still, to smooth the transition, he failed not to point out the mighty benefits that a ruler with a truly liberal heart might confer upon his people--it mattered not what he was called--governor, lord, duke, prince, or king. As for a pure republic, the land was not yet in a state fit for it, he said: but what a boon--a mighty boon--might not that man grant to the whole world, who, starting up from amongst the people, were to rule them for their own happiness alone, and to show to other monarchs the immense advantages of such a sway!
"But if you speak of this land," replied Albert Maurice, in whose heart he had discovered the unfortified spot--"but if you speak of this land, how can any man so start up, without tearing her inheritance from the gentlest, the noblest of beings?"
"By one means alone," answered Ganay, in a grave, decided tone; "by uniting her fate with his own."
Albert Maurice, thrown off his guard by so bold and straightforward an allusion to that which was passing in his own heart, suddenly drew in his rein, and glanced his eye over the countenance of the druggist, to see if there were no sneer at the presumption of his very dreams, hidden beneath the calm tone which the other assumed. But all was tranquil, and even stern; and, after a momentary pause, the young burgher replied, though with a flushed and burning cheek--"If--as we know her to be--she is so gentle, and noble, and kind-hearted, as you admit, why not leave her to rule her hereditary lands by the dictates of her generous will?"
"What! before a year be over," cried Ganay, "to give her hand, and with it the wealth, and welfare, and happiness of her people, to some of the proud tyrants under which the country groans; or, at the instigation of her intriguing ministers, to bestow the whole upon some foreign prince, who will come amongst us without one sympathy, to grind into the dust the stranger subjects given him like serfs, as a part of his wife's portion! Is this what you would have?"
Albert Maurice was silent, but not so Ganay; and as they proceeded, with poisonous eloquence he poured forth every argument, to show both the necessity and the facility of the course he suggested. He cited Artevelde, as an instance of what talented ambition had accomplished in that very city, and in an age when all the institutions of feudal pride were a thousand-fold stricter than they had since become. He depicted him, now a lackey in a noble house in France, and then a mead-brewer in Ghent, and then a popular leader, and then a companion of kings, seated beside the conquering and accomplished Edward of England, treating as a prince with Philip of France, waging war at the head of mighty armies, and balancing the fate of Europe by his power. He had fallen, at length, he said, it was true; but he had fallen by his vices and his follies; and as far as virtues, talents, courage, or accomplishments, went, could Artevelde compete, for one hour, with the man to whom he then spoke. The one was a lackey, risen from the lowest order of the state, the other sprang from the highest class of the burghers of the first commercial city in the north of Europe--burghers who already ranked almost with nobility, and who, in fact, should rank far higher.
With the skill of a practised musician, whose finger lights with nice precision on all the tones and half tones of his instruments, Ganay found means to touch every feeling in the bosom of the young burgher, and make every chord vibrate with the sound that he desired. True it is, indeed, that the heart of Albert Maurice was not one to have been thus worked upon, had not the feelings been already there; and the task of his companion--an easy one in comparison--was merely to excite those feelings into stronger action.
At length they reached the door of his own dwelling; and Albert Maurice alighted from his horse, without asking the druggist to do so too. But Ganay rode on contented; for he saw that he had given the young citizen matter for thoughts which sought to be indulged in private, and he desired no better. Nor had his words failed to sink deep. Albert Maurice, indeed, passed rapidly over, in his own mind, all the intermediate steps; but there rested behind, as a result, the proud, the inspiring conviction, that all which he chose to snatch at was within his grasp--that in one single day he had reached a height of power, from which it was but a step to the side of Mary of Burgundy; and the conviction was a dangerous one for his virtue and his peace. Much, however, was still to be done; and he sat down to revolve all that must be attempted and effected, in order to render the daring hopes of mingled love and ambition, with which his own heart beat, a passion of the people--to crush, or scatter, or circumvent the many rivals that must and would arise--and to win the love of her, upon whose affections all his dreams were founded. For the latter object, he felt that it was necessary to bury deep in his own heart the aspirations which rose within it, till manifold communings, service, and tenderness, should have ripened the esteem, in which he saw he was held, into warmer feelings. Thus he pondered, till, before he was aware, schemes were formed, and deeds were prepared, which all eternity could not annul.
The following days passed much in the same manner; but each day brought forward to the light some of the many difficulties with which the young citizen was destined to contend in his progress towards the great object before his eyes, but which, having calculated upon them from the first, he was prepared to meet as soon as they assumed a tangible form. During the course of the morning which followed the day of his elevation to the supreme power in the city, the levy of a large body of troops was voted, and the entire command was assigned to himself: but, before night, the Lord of Ravestein, the Duke of Cleves, and the Bishop of Liege arrived, to counsel and support the princess; and though each came separately, their trains, united, amounted to nearly a thousand men. A wary guard, however, was held upon the gates of Ghent, and only thirty attendants were allowed to pass within the walls in company with each of the noble visitors; while, much to the discontent of their lords, the rest were sent back to their various territories.
A new scene of intrigue immediately followed the arrival of these princes in the palace; and it soon reached the ears of Albert Maurice, that the Duke of Cleves was moving heaven and earth to obtain the hand of the orphan Princess of Burgundy for his son. Almost at the same time, good Martin Fruse received intelligence, from a quarter which we already know, that Louis XI. sought to unite France and Burgundy, by a union between the heiress of Charles the Bold and his sickly child, the Dauphin; and it soon became evident, that Imbercourt and Hugonet, supported by the Lord of Ravestein, were eagerly pressing Mary to sacrifice her own feelings to the benefit of her country, and to bestow her hand upon the feeble boy.
Clear, however--most clear, it was, both to Albert Maurice and to the druggist Ganay, that while these parties contended for mastery, they must equally court the people of Ghent, and more especially must bow to the young citizen himself, whose power they all well knew, and whose designs they did not suspect. Of neither of the parties at the court did Albert Maurice at first entertain much fear; for he felt sure that the heart of Mary of Burgundy, however tutored to sacrifice her own will, would strongly revolt against either alliance--the one with a fierce and brutal sot--the other with a sickly child. But tidings speedily arrived, which made him fear that force or terror would soon compel the unhappy girl to yield herself to France. News now reached him that Louis was already in the field, that Picardy was full of the troops of France, and that Commines and Bourbon were advancing along the line of the Somme. An ambassador, too, he was warned at the same time, was on his way from France to Ghent; and to show the young citizen that he was sent rather to tamper with the people, than to negotiate with the princess, or even with the municipal council, copies of his commission and instructions readied Albert Maurice from an unknown source, together with an assurance that some days would yet elapse before he could appear at the gates.
The near approach of the ambassador, whom we have already seen delayed on his journey, remained unknown in the palace; but hourly tidings were received of the progress of the French king, and of his unjust claims upon the whole inheritance of the late Duke of Burgundy. The pretences he set forth were so futile and absurd--so contrary to every principle of law or justice, that every one believed his sole object was to force the heiress of Burgundy into an immediate marriage with his son. Imbercourt, Hugonet, and all the ministers of the late duke, saw his proceedings in the same point of view, and incessantly besought the unhappy Mary to yield to her fate, and, before her dominions were entirely incorporated with France, to avert the misfortunes that must fall upon herself and her people, by yielding her hand to the Dauphin.
The same conclusion in regard to the motives of Louis XI. was drawn by the Duke of Cleves; but the result on his own conduct was totally different. Instead of beseeching Mary to yield to necessity, he opposed such advice with determined and angry vehemence. He stigmatized Hugonet and Imbercourt as traitors; and, in order to destroy the powerful party opposed to his own views in the council of the princess, he laid himself out to court the people; rode side by side with Albert Maurice through the streets of the city, amidst the shouts of the multitude; and, after having excited the municipal body to petition that their president might have a seat in the provincial council of Flanders, he himself presented the address, which he knew that neither Mary nor her ministers dared to refuse.
Albert Maurice, however, suffered himself not to be dazzled; and though joy inexpressible thrilled at his heart at every triumphant step he took in advance; though his whole soul rejoiced at the constant opportunity now afforded him of daily communication with her he dared to love; yet he allowed neither passion nor success for a moment to relax his energies or his watchfulness; and he yielded to the pretensions of the Duke of Cleves in favour of his son, only so far as might stay the precipitate haste with which the French alliance might otherwise have been concluded.
With Imbercourt he clashed continually; and the firm, calm reasoning of the minister was constantly met and overpowered by the fiery and brilliant eloquence of the young citizen. Nor was he, even in opposing her faithful and her esteemed minister, without deriving some encouragement from the eyes of Mary herself, whenever the discussion took place in her presence; for though she both loved and reverenced the wise and gallant friend of her father, who advocated, for her own interests, the proposed union with the Dauphin; yet to her heart that union was so repugnant, that she could not but look with pleasure on every one who opposed it, nor listen without delight to arguments which gave her new courage to resist.
Nor did Albert Maurice ever support the idea of her marriage with another; so that while advancing his own design, and winning both her gratitude and admiration, he was never found in opposition to her wishes; and still, when he appeared, she welcomed his coming with a smile and with a look of pleasure, which, without the slightest purpose of deceit, served painfully to deceive.
Nevertheless, the Duke of Cleves made rapid progress; and, not contented with the efforts of the young citizen to oppose the French alliance, he left no means untried to stimulate the people to support his own design. The watchful eye of Albert Maurice was indeed upon him, but still his strides towards the accomplishment of his schemes were more speedy than the other had anticipated; and the cries he heard, when riding, one day, towards the palace, of "Long live the Duke of Cleves! Long live his gallant son!" showed him at once that it was time to raise up some barrier against his pretensions. At the same time, he felt, that to give even a slight support to the opposite party might prove fatal to his hopes; and, after a long consultation with Ganay, he determined to seek out some one who might openly pretend to Mary's hand, and draw away the countenance of the people from the Duke of Cleves; but whose pretensions would be even more repugnant, not only to herself, but to her ministers, her friends, and her nobles, than even his own might prove at an after-period. But who was to be the man?
Accompanied by the crowd of attendants, who now always followed his footsteps when he rode forth, as chief magistrate of Ghent, Albert Maurice hastened to the palace, some minutes before the council met, and was admitted to the presence of the princess, whose smile gave him even a more glad reception than ordinary. She was not alone, however; for besides her usual train of ladies, a page, a chamberlain, and a man dressed as a peasant, but whose scarred cheek told tales of warlike broils, stood before her when he entered.
"Oh! you are most welcome, Sir President," said the princess, "and have come to afford me counsel at a good moment. Here is a ring just returned to me, which I gave some months ago to a stranger who saved me, I believe, from death, in a thunderstorm, near Tirlemont. I promised, at the same time, that on his sending it back, I would grant whatever he might ask, if it were consistent with my honour and my dignity. Look what he says on this slip of parchment. 'He, to whom the Duchess of Burgundy gave this ring, demands, as the boon of which it was a pledge, the instant liberation of Adolphus, Duke of Gueldres, and his restoration to his own domains.'"
Albert Maurice almost started; for there was a strange coincidence between the demand which the princess had just read, and the thoughts which had been passing in his mind as he rode thither. "Lady," he said, "it seems to me that there is but one counsel to be given you. Your word is plighted; the liberation of the Duke of Gueldres--monster though he be, is consistent with your honour and dignity; and your promise must be fulfilled."
"You always judge nobly, Sir President," replied the princess; "and I thank you now, and ever shall thank you, for supporting that which is just and generous, however contrary it may be to apparent interests."
"Believe me, madam," replied the young citizen, bending low to conceal the joy that sparkled in his eyes, "believe me that it shall ever be my endeavour both to forward your best interests and those of the country, which are, indeed, inseparable; and I would ask you as a boon, through all the future, whatever you may see or think strange in my demeanour, to rest assured that your good and my country's are still the motive."
"I will--I will, indeed," replied the Princess; "for it would be hard to make me suppose that you, whom I have seen act so nobly in circumstances of personal danger and difficulty, would forget your honour and integrity, when trusted by our countrymen and your sovereign."
A slight flush passed over the cheek of Albert Maurice, at such praise. It was not exactly that he knew himself undeserving of it, for he had laboured hard and successfully to convince his own mind that his aggrandizement, the welfare of the country--ay, and he almost hoped, the happiness of Mary herself, were inseparably united. He replied, however--not with words of course, for his lightest thoughts were seldom commonplace--but vaguely; and, after a few questions addressed to the man who bore the ring, which he seemed unwilling to answer, the princess rendered her promise to liberate the Duke of Gueldres definite, and the messenger was suffered to depart.
At the meeting of the council, which followed immediately, the matter was discussed and concluded, and the orders to set the duke at liberty were instantly despatched. They were accompanied, however, by an express command from the princess--whose abhorrence for that base, unnatural son, turbulent subject, and faithless friend, was unconcealed--that he should immediately retire to his own domains, and never present himself before her.
Most important matters occupied the council also. New tidings had been received from the frontiers; and all those tidings were evil. No doubt could now exist, that while his principal officers were invading the Duchy of Burgundy in the east, Louis XI., with an overwhelming force, was marching onward towards Flanders, taking possession of all those fair lands which had descended to the unhappy princess at the death of her father, and meeting with little opposition on his way. Already Abbeville had thrown open its gates. Ham, Bohain, St. Quentin, Roye, and Montdidier, had followed; and Peronne--proud impregnable Peronne--had been yielded at the first summons.
Again the Lord of Imbercourt boldly and strongly urged the absolute necessity of propitiating the King of France, and arresting his farther progress, by the immediate union, or at least affiancing, of the Princess of Burgundy and the heir of the French crown. It was the only means, he said--it was the only hope of preserving any part of the dominions, which, by various events, had been united under the coronet of Burgundy; and was it not better, he asked, for the princess to carry them as a dowry to her husband, than to come portionless to the same prince at last, and receive the honour of his alliance as a matter of grace and favour?
"My lords," replied Albert Maurice, rising as soon as the other had sat down, "already a thousand times have you heard my arguments against the base and ungenerous step proposed; often have I shown, by reasoning, that the interests of France and Burgundy are as distinct as it is possible to conceive, and that centuries must elapse before they can be united. But, if such be the case with the duchy of Burgundy itself, and all its immediate dependencies, how much more so is it the case with Flanders and Brabant. With England, the eternal enemy of France, has ever been our great commercial intercourse; to our friendship with England do we owe our commercial existence; and the moment that this land is united to the enemy of that great country, that moment our wealth, our prosperity, our being a distinct land, is at an end. All this I have shown, taking a mere political view: but remembering that I spoke to knights and nobles, to men who can feel for national honour, and fear national disgrace, I have also pointed out the shame--the burning shame--it would be in the eyes of all Christendom, the moment that your bold and gallant prince is dead, to truckle to his often worsted enemy; to yield to Louis the lands which Charles the Bold so stoutly maintained against him; and to give his daughter's hand to the son of that base foe, whose dark and traitorous intrigues effected, more than aught on earth, your sovereign's overthrow and death. Already have I demanded why, instead of all those degrading concessions, you do not prepare defences in the field: and why, rather than talk of yielding tamely to an unjust tyrant, you do not go forth to encounter him with lance and sword, as in the days of the great duke? But now I must use another language--language more bold and more decided--and say that Flanders, Hainault, and Brabant, will never consent to be the slaves of France: France, who has so often wronged us, and whose efforts, vain as they have been, have never ceased to grasp at the dominion of these lands. More! I say--and by my voice the three united states now speak to the councils of Burgundy--that we will consider and pursue, as a false and perfidious traitor, bought with the gold of France to betray his lady's interest, that man, whoever he may be, who henceforth proposes the subjection of these lands to a French prince."
The Duke of Cleves eagerly supported the bold speech of the young citizen, as did also the Bishop of Liege, more perhaps from personal hatred to Imbercourt, than from any real disapprobation of the French alliance. Warm and violent words passed on all parts; and the discussion had reached a pitch of dangerous turbulence, when it was announced that the Count de Meulan, envoy extraordinary from the King of France, had just entered the city, and taken up his abode at the principal inn of the place.
This news gave a different turn to the deliberations of the council; and after determining that the reception of the ambassador should take place the following day, the assembly broke up; and its various members separated, with those feelings of personal animosity burning in their bosoms, which have so often proved fatal to great designs.