CHAPTER XXXII.
The Duke of Gueldres, however, was still to enjoy a triumph before he returned to his dwelling, which, could he have seen into the heart of his rival, would have fully compensated all the pain which his anger had inflicted on himself. Albert Maurice was left alone; but there was a shout in the market-place without, which rang painfully on his ears, as he turned from the great hall; for he could not avoid hearing the loud voice of the multitude, cheering the Duke of Gueldres as he mounted his horse.
The sounds were distinct enough; and to him bitter enough, also. They were "Long live the Duke of Gueldres and the Princess! Gueldres and Burgundy for ever! We will give her to whom we like! She shall marry the good Duke! Long life to the noble Duke of Gueldres!" and though, as that prince rode on, the words were no longer to be distinguished, the cries still continued, and the fancy of the young citizen furnished each brawling shout with articulate sounds of the character most inimical to his own peace.
"Ere I go," he thought--"ere I go, I will see her myself; and assure myself of her feelings before I quit the city. Then, if I find that she hates him, as I believe, that she looks upon him as the wolf he really is, I will take sufficient means to guard her from his importunities during my absence."
The determination was no sooner formed than he prepared to execute it; and, while he despatched a messenger to the palace to demand an audience of the princess previous to his departure, which was fixed for the next day, he gave a multitude of necessary orders, and as soon as his horse was ready, set out himself to seek an interview, which the consciousness of having brought about the death of Mary's counsellors, and the banishment of her friends, made him dread even while he courted it.
But, as those who are young in deceit generally do, he forgot, for the time, that the dark secrets of his heart were confined to his own bosom; and that the policy he had pursued, and the bold ambition that prompted it, were unknown to her who had most suffered by it. In truth, the feelings of Mary were very different from those which he had anticipated. The broad and simple facts only reached her ear. She knew that the young citizen had taken no part in the trial or the judgment of Imbercourt, and that he had not even been present at his execution. The order for the immediate removal of the Duchess Dowager and Ravestein, also, had been issued in the name of the states: and perfectly unconscious of the wild hopes and ambitious dreams of Albert Maurice, she believed that if he had at all mingled in those proceedings, it was but most unwillingly, and from a strong, though mistaken impression of duty and patriotism. Deprived, too, of the counsellors in whom she had always most trusted, and of the friends whom she had most loved, the unhappy girl felt inclined to cling to any one who seemed disposed to treat her with kindness and tenderness; and the only one who remained was Albert Maurice. He had always been gentle; he had always seemed to advocate her interest; he had never asked her for gift, or honour, or dignity; and even his very animosity towards Imbercourt and the Chancellor, had first arisen in the support which he gave to the princess, in her reluctant struggles against the hard and painful policy her ministers had dictated. The dignity of his demeanour, the high qualities of his mind, the independence of his character, and the apparent disinterestedness of his conduct, had gained her esteem; and the respectful gentleness of his manners towards herself, as well as his constant and zealous advocacy of the line of policy dictated by her wishes as a woman, had won her gratitude and her confidence.
A gleam of pleasure brightened the gloom around her when she heard that he was coming; and, in order at once to attach him more strongly to her interests, to express her thanks for his supposed services, and to detach him totally from the burgher faction, whose influence had already worked so much evil, she directed one of the officers of the palace to draw up, immediately, letters of nobility in favour of the young citizen, and to bring them to her with all speed. Gentle by nature and by habit, the only arms which Mary ever employed against her rebellious subjects were favours and mildness, and she fondly fancied, that, in this step towards Albert Maurice, she had devised a deep stroke of policy. The secretary's task was almost completed when Albert Maurice arrived; and the evident pleasure with which Mary received him, in the midst of all her griefs, extinguished for the time remorse and apprehension in the blaze of hope and joy, and once more nerved him for the bold career of ambition in which he had started against such fearful odds.
The princess was pale and shaken with all the agitation, terror, and grief of the day before; but the light that shone up in her eyes, and the smile which played about her lips as he approached, made her appear a thousand times more lovely in the eyes of the young burgher than she would have seemed in all the pride of state, security, and happiness. In the unconscious simplicity of heart, too, all her words gave encouragement to feelings that she little dreamed of; and when, on the announcement of his approaching departure, she pressed him to stay, and to abandon his design; when she assured him that he was the only one she could now trust, since her faithful servants had been put to death and her kindred had been banished, and beseeched him not to leave her without a counsellor, or without a friend, Albert Maurice, knowing the passions that animated his own bosom, could not but hope that in some degree she saw them too; and, while habitual respect cast a deep reverence over all his words and actions, which served to deceive her as to his feelings, his love and his ambition caught a new fire from the confiding esteem she expressed towards him. He assured her that in six days he would be once more in Ghent; and he hoped, he said, to lay some laurels at her feet. In the meantime, he added, it might be necessary to think of her security against all intrusion.
"Oh, for the love of Heaven, provide for that!" exclaimed the princess; "I fear that base, that dreadful Duke of Gueldres. Even the shelter of my own apartments is no security against him; and his influence with the people, they tell me, is becoming fearfully great. Speak, Margaret," she added, turning to one of her attendants, "what was it you heard the people crying but now?"
"Fear not, your Grace," replied Albert Maurice, without waiting to hear from the princess's lady a repetition of words which had already made his blood boil. "The career of the Duke of Gueldres draws towards its end! If I judge rightly, his own ambition will be a stumbling-block sufficient to bring his speedy overthrow. But if not, sooner than you should suffer from insolent daring, he shall find that Albert Maurice does not wear a sword in vain."
"Oh, use it not against him, sir," replied the princess; "there may be other ways of ridding the city of his presence. Too much blood has been shed already. Nay, do not look sad, Lord President. I know that it was without your will. I know that you were not even present. But while you are absent from the city, if your absence be unavoidable, I beseech you to take measures to guard me against his intrusion. When you return," she added, with a deep crimson blush, which rose from feelings that would have damned all the young citizen's presumptuous hopes for ever, could he have divined them--"when you return, I would fain speak with you, on taking such measures for the defence of the state as may obtain for it permanent security. A woman's hand, I see, cannot hold the reins of such a land as that which I am unhappily called to govern; and it is time for me to yield them to some one who can better guide the state than I can. But more of this hereafter. We will not speak more now."
The heart of the young citizen throbbed as if it would have burst, but it throbbed with joy; and probably he might have replied, notwithstanding the prohibition of the princess, in such a manner as would have ended the delusion of both; but, at that moment, according to the orders he had received, the secretary of the chancery of Burgundy brought in the letters-patent, which he had been drawing up in haste.
The princess presented them to him for whom they were destined with her own hand, leaving him at liberty to make them public, or to preserve them unemployed till such time as he should think fit: and while she gave them, she added her thanks for his obedience to the wishes she had expressed when last they met. Though the subject was too painful for the princess even to mention the name of the two faithful servants she had lost, yet Albert Maurice felt that she alluded to her petitions in their behalf. For a single instant he thought she spoke in irony, and his cheek turned red and pale by turns; but a moment's reflection called to his mind the simple, candid character of her who spoke, and what she had before said on the same subject; and he saw that she deceived herself in regard to the part he had taken. There was a natural rectitude in his heart which might have made him, at any risk, avow boldly his approval of, if not his participation in, the bloodshed which had been committed--had the love of Mary of Burgundy not been at stake. But he who knew not what fear is, under other circumstances, had learned to become as timid as a child in her presence; and though, while kneeling to kiss her hand in thanks for the honour she had just conferred, his whole frame trembled both with the agitation of deep love, and the knowledge that he was acting a deceitful part, yet he found it impossible to utter those words which he well knew would have pronounced his own condemnation to the ears of Mary of Burgundy.
The sensation, however, oppressed him; and, after hurried and somewhat incoherent thanks, he took his leave, feeling that he had made another step in the crooked and degrading path of policy.
The rest of the day was consumed in preparations for his departure early the next morning, and in precautions against the influence of his enemies in Ghent. Men may make use of knaves and hypocrites, in order to rise, but they must still have recourse to the honest and the true, when they would give permanence to their authority. Thus, from the council which Albert Maurice now called to his aid, Ganay was excluded, as well as all the fiercer and more subtle spirits, which had hitherto been so busy in the affairs of Ghent; while honest Martin Fruse, and seven other citizens like himself, who, though not without their weaknesses and their follies, possessed at heart a fund of honesty of intent and plain common sense, were summoned by the young citizen to a private conference, for the purpose of taking such measures as would secure the peace and tranquillity of the city, and the stability of the order of things established, during his temporary absence.
He felt it difficult, indeed, to explain to them all the evils that were to be guarded against, all the dangers that he foresaw, and all the apprehensions that he entertained, especially in regard to the druggist Ganay. To have done so fully, would have been to have exposed all the darker and more dangerous secrets of his own bosom, and to have given a picture of himself, of the means he had employed, and of the deeds into which he had been betrayed, which he was unwilling to display to any human being. Thus it was not without much circumlocution that he could find words to convey his immediate views to the honest men by whom he was surrounded, and yet keep to those general terms which might not expose himself.
Martin Fruse, however, whose love for his nephew was paramount in his bosom, greatly relieved the task; for--with a sort of intuitive feeling, that there were many things which Albert Maurice would wish to keep concealed, and from a desire of sparing him as much as possible--he passed as rapidly as his intellect would permit him to conclusions, skipping as quickly as possible over all explanations regarding preceding facts with a nod or smile of intelligence, which led the other worthy merchants to believe that he was fully acquainted with all the machinery of the events which had taken place. After some hours' consultation, it was arranged that Albert Maurice, deputing his whole municipal authority to his uncle, should entrust the worthy citizen and the other merchants present, to form such a party in the council, as might keep the affairs of the town, if possible, in a completely passive state during his absence. His office in the states general he could not transfer; for though he held the presidency of that body as a privilege connected with its assembling in the city of which he had been constituted chief magistrate, yet that privilege could not be deputed to another; and the states--if they met at all during his absence--would be presided by the next deputy from the city of Ghent.
The power, however, which he placed in the hands of good Martin Fruse was anything but insignificant, for Ghent then ruled the states; and it was determined that all measures were to be taken for the security of the city and the repairs of the fortifications; that the purchase of supplies and provisions, and the levying of men, were to go on as usual; but that, upon the proposal of any important movement, on the part of Ghent, a motion for its postponement till the return of the President was immediately to be put, and supported by his friends. The meeting of the states general, too, was to be opposed as much as possible during his absence from Ghent; and as the authority of the municipality was, of course, paramount in their own city, it seemed probable that his friends would be able to exert great influence in this respect. Any pretensions of the Duke of Gueldres to the hand of the princess were to be strenuously opposed in the council; and Martin Fruse, and the burgher guard, were to give her every support and protection, in case she might require it. Anxious, too, for the safety of Hugh of Gueldres, Albert Maurice took care that a strong force should be stationed at the town prison, and that the merchants should be prepared to put an instant negative upon any proposal for bringing the prisoner to trial during his absence.
When all these arrangements were concluded, the next care of the young citizen was to select such bands from amongst both the new and old levies of the city, as were most likely to ensure him success in the enterprises which he was about to execute; and this being done, and all his further preparations completed, he proceeded, once more, to visit the Vert Gallant of Hannut in the chamber to which he had now been removed. The young cavalier lay in a deep, sweet sleep, from which even the opening of the door and the approach of Albert Maurice did not wake him; and the President gazed for a moment or two on his face--as he lay so calm and tranquil, within the walls of a prison, suffering from injuries, and exposed to constant danger--with a feeling of envy and regret, which, perhaps, few can appreciate fully, who have not felt the sharp tooth of remorse begin its sleepless gnawing on the heart.
He would not have disturbed such slumbers for the world; and, withdrawing again with a noiseless step, he retired to his own chamber, and cast himself down upon his bed, to snatch, at least, that heated and disturbed sleep, which was all the repose that he was ever more to know on earth.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
The clang of trumpets echoing through the streets of Ghent, an hour before daybreak, announced that the body of forces under the command of the young President was about to set out upon its expedition; and as the burghers started from their sleep, and listened to the various sounds that followed--the trampling of horses, the voices of the officers, and the dull measured tread of marching men, not unfrequently did a feeling of pride rise in their bosoms from that universal principle--"the extension of the idea of self;" as each one felt that the army thus on its march was, in some degree, his own, as part and parcel of the city of Ghent.
To the ears of none in the whole town, however, did the sounds come more pleasantly than to those of the druggist Ganay, who had felt, within the last two days, a sort of thirst to see the back of him he had once loved, turned upon the city; for, though--with that degree of pride in his cunning, which artful men often possess--he did not usually apprehend that his wit would fail in a struggle with that of any other being; yet there was something in the unaccountable knowledge of foregone facts which Albert Maurice had displayed, that made him entertain a vague fear of the young citizen, and rendered him unwilling to venture any very bold stroke till Ghent was free from his presence.
The first sound of the trumpet fell upon his ear as he sat watching the bed of the wounded Lord of Neufchatel, into whose sick chamber he had obtruded himself with an officious zeal, which might have been resented by the noble's attendants, had he not, by quiet and soothing attentions, rendered himself useful, and his presence pleasing to the invalid himself, while a long attendance on a sick and fretful old man, had cooled and wearied those who were at first most active in his service. A restless and feverish night had passed away; and, as morning came, the ancient Seneschal of Burgundy showed some inclination to fall asleep; but the first braying of the trumpets roused him; and he eagerly demanded what those sounds meant. The druggist explained the cause at once; and the enfeebled warrior shook his head with a melancholy air, as he heard the call to horse sounded again, without being able to raise a limb from his couch.
"'Twas not so when first you knew me, Master Ganay?" he said; and then--while one sound succeeded another, and squadron after squadron marched forth through the streets--he continued to murmur a number of low and somewhat incoherent sentences, between the delirium of feverish irritation and the drowsiness of exhaustion. At length, as a faint bluish light began to gleam into the chamber from the dawning of the morning, the last horseman passed the gates of the court-yard, and all Ghent resumed its former stillness.
The old man would then have addressed himself to sleep again; but Ganay now recalled his mind to the subject of his brighter days, with an extraordinary degree of pertinacity. "Nay, nay, my noble lord," he said, returning to the topic of their early acquaintance; "when first I saw your lordship, you would little have suffered an army to march, while you lay still in bed."
"Not I, not I, indeed!" replied the Lord of Neufchatel. "But what can one do?"
"Alack, nothing now," answered the druggist; "but think that you never flinched while you could keep the saddle. You were as eager a rider in those days as ever I met--ay! and somewhat hasty withal."
"Ah! my good Ganay, are you there now?" said the old lord. "Have you not forgot that yet? Well, man, I did you wrong; but have I not tried to make atonement? I did you wrong, I do believe from my soul."
"Believe, my lord!" cried Ganay; "are you not sure? Are not the very papers you possess convincing enough of my innocence?"
"Well, well, perhaps they are," replied the old man, somewhat impatiently.
"Perhaps they are!" exclaimed the other. "Nay, surely they are. But let me fetch and read them to your lordship--where can I find them?"
"They are in the Venice cabinet, I think," answered the Lord of Neufchatel; "but never mind them--never mind them! I tell thee I am convinced--what need of more? I would fain sleep now, if the accursed itching of this thrust in my shoulder would let me. Call the boy with his rote, good Ganay; he often puts me to sleep by playing on his instrument--or the man that tells stories: he is better still. I never fail to grow drowsy as soon as he begins, and to snore before he has half done."
"Take but a cup of this elixir, my lord," answered the druggist. "Mind you not, how it refreshed you yesterday morning?"
"Surely," cried the old lord, in a peevish tone. "Have you any more? Why did you not give it me sooner? How could you see me suffer so all night, and not give me that which alone eases me?"
"Because, if used too often, it loses its effect," replied the druggist.
"Give it me--give it me now, then!" cried the invalid, impatiently. "When would you give a man medicine but when he is ill and in pain? Spare not, man--let the dose be full. Thou shalt be well paid for thy drugs."
Ganay took up a cup from the table, and nearly filled it with a dark-coloured liquid from a phial which he drew out of his bosom. He then gave it to the old noble, who drank off the contents at once, while the druggist gazed on him with an eye which seemed almost starting from its socket, so intense was the look of eager interest with which he regarded him.
"Are you sure it is the same?" said the Lord of Neufchatel, returning the cup; "it tastes differently; it is bitterer, and has a faint taste as of earth. It is--it is--not so----"
But, as he spoke, the lids of his eyes fell; he opened them drowsily once or twice, added a few more almost inarticulate words, and then sunk back upon his pillow. Ganay looked at him intently for two or three minutes; then stole out of the room; and, descending with a quiet step to the hall, he woke his own serving-boy, who was sitting by the fire. "Hie thee to the Prevot," he whispered; "bid him hither instantly!"
"Who goes there?" cried the servant on watch, who had been asleep also, but was now wakened by the boy opening the door, "Who goes there?"
"Only my boy," answered Ganay, "going for some drugs against my good lord wakes--I would have healed him sooner than all the leeches in the town, had I but tried it before; but, of course, I could not meddle till he dismissed the surgeon in such wrath."
"How goes he now, Master Ganey?" demanded the man.
"Better, I hope!" replied the druggist, "but he has had a fearful night. He now sleeps, and I think it is a crisis. If he wake better, he will do well. If not, he dies."
"God forfend!" cried the man.
Ganay echoed loudly the wish, and retired once more to the sick man's chamber. Entering with stealthy steps, he approached the bed, and gazed upon him that it contained. A slight stream of dark fluid had flowed from his mouth, and stained his pillow; and Ganay, as he remarked this appearance, muttered, "The stomach has rejected it! He must take more. To leave it half done, were worse than all! Here, my lord!" he added, aloud, shaking him by the arm--"Here! take a little more of the same blessed elixir!"
But the old man made no answer, except by a long deep-drawn sigh; and Ganay, adding, "He has had enough," sat down, and turning his face from the lamp, continued gazing for some minutes upon the couch. From time to time, as he sat and looked, a few muttered words would escape his lips; and often he would turn and listen for the sounds in the street, as if impatient for the coming of some one from without.
"The Venice cabinet!" he muttered, "that stands in the small arras chamber by the saloon! Could one reach it, now, unperceived! But no. 'Tis better to wait till Du Bac arrives; some of the varlets might catch me, and all were ruined; better wait till he comes. He is very tedious, though--It works but slowly! He has had hardly enough--What can be done?--He cannot take any more!--That is a long-drawn sigh--it should be the last--A little help were not amiss, though!" and so saying, he pressed his hand heavily on the chest of the old Lord of Neufchatel.
It rose once slightly against the weight; but death and life were by this time so nearly balanced in his frame, that it rose but once, and then all was quiet. Still Ganay continued the pressure with his whole force, till suddenly the eyes opened, and the jaw dropped; and the murderer instinctively started back, fancying that his victim was awaking from his slumber. But he instantly perceived that what he saw was but the sign of a longer and more profound sleep having taken the old man to repose for ever; and, after one more glance to satisfy himself that no means of resuscitation could prove available, he loudly called upon the servants and attendants to give him help, for that their lord was dying. It was some time before he made them hear; for the illness of the old noble had been long and tedious, and kindness had been wearied, and attention worn out. When they did come, therefore, the druggist had some excuse to rate them severely for inattention and sloth. He affected to try many means of recalling the dead to life again, and proposed to send for skilful leeches, as soon as he heard the voice of Maillotin du Bac in the hall below.
That officer now came boldly in, and, stopping all other proceedings, demanded whether any relation of the dead lord were in the house. The answer, as he knew it must be, was in the negative; for--as the servants replied--all his connexions were in the far parts of Burgundy. "Well, then," cried the Prevot, "it becomes me, though not exactly the proper officer, to seal up all the doors and effects of the deceased, till such time as account can be taken. You, my men," he continued, to the archers of the band that followed him, "gather all these worthy servants and varlets together in the great hall, and see that no one stirs a step, till I have asked them a question or two. You, Master Ganay, being one of the magistrates of the town, had better come with me, to bear witness that I seal all things fairly. You, my good lieutenant, bring me some wax and a chafing dish, and then return to the hall, to guard these worthy fellows till I come."
The domestic attendants of the old lord, amongst whom were several of his ancient military retainers, grumbled not a little at this arrangement, and might have shown somewhat more stubborn resistance, had not the force brought by the Prevot overmatched them in numbers as well as in preparations. One of them, however, whispered to a boy who was amongst them, to slip out and warn the other retainers in the lodging over the way; the house, or rather houses, of the deceased noble, extending, as was not uncommon in those times, to both sides of the street. With this intimation to the boy, and one or two loud oaths, which the Prevot would not hear, the servants were removed, and the two accomplices stood together in the dead man's chamber alone. Such sights were too familiar to Maillotin du Bac, to cause even the slightest feeling of awe to cross his bosom, as he gazed on the face of the corpse; and after looking at it for a moment in silence, he turned to the druggist with a well-satisfied smile, but without farther comment.
"Let us make haste!" cried Ganay--"the papers are in the Venice cabinet, in the little arras chamber by the saloon."
"Wait for the wax! Wait for the wax, man!" replied the Prevot; "there is plenty of time. Let us do things orderly. You seek for the keys in the meantime. They are in that cupboard, probably. Where is its own key? But never mind; I will put back the lock with my dagger."
This was soon accomplished, and the open door exposed, as the Prevot had expected, several large bunches of keys, and a leathern bag, which bore all the marks of being swelled out with coined pieces of some kind. The druggist seized upon the keys, and carefully concealed them on his person; but the Prevot dipped his hand zealously into the heart of the leathern bag, drawing it forth, and then plunging it deep into his own bosom, without at all examining what his fist contained. After two or three such dives down into the pouch, which grew somewhat lank and wrinkled under its intercourse with the Prevot's hand, he raised it, as if to see how much it still contained, murmuring--"We must leave some!"
An approaching step now caused him to replace it hastily, and close the door; and, as soon as the lieutenant brought him the wax and chafing dish, Maillotin du Bac proceeded to secure that cupboard first, using the hilt of his dagger as a seal.
The inferior officer was speedily sent away; and the Prevot instantly turned to his companion, saying, "Now to the Venice cabinet, if you will. You know the way better than I: lead on."
"This way, then! this way!" answered the druggist, "we will go by the back passage;" and opening another door, he hurried on through several corridors, till they entered what had been the great saloon of the hotel. They paused not to feel, and still less to comment on the gloomy aspect which association gives to a festive chamber, the lord of which is just gone down to the gloomy dust; but crossing it as fast as possible, they entered a small room beyond, which was hung all round with rich arras tapestry, and which, besides some settles and a table, contained a large black cabinet of the kind which was at that time imported from Venice.
The druggist approached it eagerly; and looking at the lock, and then at the keys in his hand, after some difficulty chose one, and applied it to the keyhole. What was his surprise, to find that the cabinet was already open, and that the whole shelves which it contained were covered with books and papers, in a state of terrible confusion.
"Curses on the old sloven!" he cried; "this will take an age to go through."
"Better take all the papers," said the Prevot, "and leave the trash of books; but at all events make haste!"
"I cannot conceal them all," replied the druggist. "Here! help me to search. They are tied up in a bundle together, with my name on the back."
The Prevot approached, and aided Ganay busily in his search; and at length the druggist caught a sight of the papers, lying far back in the cabinet: "Here they are! Here they are!" he cried; but at that moment--as he was reaching his hand to seize them--a powerful grasp was laid upon his shoulder, and turning round with a sudden start, he beheld the countenance of Albert Maurice.
Without giving him time to deliberate, the young citizen drew him forcibly back from the cabinet with his right hand, while he himself laid his left upon the very bundle of papers that Ganay had been about to take. The druggist was struck dumb with surprise, disappointment, and consternation; but Maillotin du Bac, who did not easily lose his presence of mind, exclaimed at once, "What, you here, Sir President! I thought you were miles hence by this time."
"Doubtless you did," replied Albert Maurice; "doubtless you did! What do you here?"
"We seek to discover if there be any testamentary paper," replied the Prevot, who perceived that the doorway, which opened into the saloon, was full of people, amongst whom he recognised none of his own band.
"And what right have you, sir, to seek for such papers?" demanded the President. "Is it a part of your office? Is it a part of your duty? You seem to consider your functions wonderfully enlarged of late. Advance, Maitre Pierre," he continued, turning to one of the eschevins of the city, who had accompanied him thither. "You will do your duty in sealing up the effects of the Lord of Neufchatel. As for these papers which I have in my hand, I hold them to be necessary to the state, having seen them before, by the consent of the Lord of Neufchatel, while awaiting in this chamber of his house, an examination before the council of the princess on a charge brought against me by yon Prevot. It is my intention, therefore, to keep them in my possession. But I beseech you, in the first instance, to envelop them carefully, sealing them with your own seal, after which I will be answerable for them to whatever person may prove to be the legal heir of the nobleman deceased."
Ganay's face, always pale, became cadaverous, as he heard these words; and both Albert Maurice and the Prevot believed that the only feeling of his heart, at that moment, was terror. The words he muttered to himself, however, were--"Fool! he has destroyed himself!" and they might have served to show, had they been overheard, that the predominant passion of his soul, revenge, was still uppermost, and even overbore both consternation and surprise.
The eschevin, according to the desire of the President, sealed up the papers in an envelope, and returned them to him; and Albert Maurice, whose stern eye had turned severely from the countenance of the one culprit to the other, with an expression which made them at first believe that he meditated to exert his authority for their immediate punishment, now once more addressed the magistrate, saying, "I must myself leave you, sir, to pursue this business alone, for it will require hard riding to overtake the troops; but I have every confidence that you will examine this suspicious affair most strictly and carefully. You know how far, according to the laws, such conduct as we have seen to-day is just or unjust, and you will take measures, without fear or favour, to see that justice be not evaded. But you will be pleased especially to cause the body of the deceased nobleman, of which we had but a casual glance, to be carefully examined by competent persons, in order to ascertain the cause of death. My speedy return will prevent the necessity of your employing any means but those of precaution, till we meet again. In the meantime, farewell."
Thus saying, Albert Maurice, without taking any further notice either of Ganay or the Prevot, quitted the chamber; and, leaving a sufficient number of persons behind to enforce the authority of the eschevin, he proceeded to the court-yard, and, mounting his horse, galloped off.
Things that appear very extraordinary in themselves, are often brought about by the simplest means; and such had been the case in regard to the interruption which Ganay and the Prevot had met with in the execution of their design. Albert Maurice had been prevented, by some casual business, from setting out himself at the hour he at first proposed, but in order that the troops might not be delayed, he suffered them to begin their march from Ghent, under their inferior officers, well knowing that, with the number of swift horses he had at his command, he could overtake them before they had advanced many miles. His way lay past the hotel of the Lord of Neufchatel; and as he was riding hastily on with a few attendants, he saw a boy drop from one of the casements, and run across the street in breathless speed. From some vague suspicion, Albert Maurice stopped him, with inquiries into the cause of his haste; and the boy at once replied, "The old lord is dead, and the Prevot and the druggist have shut all the varlets up in the hall, while they seal up the papers. So they sent me to tell the squires and men-at-arms in the other lodging."
Such tidings, joined to the previous knowledge that he possessed, was quite sufficient for Albert Maurice; and, sending instantly for one of the eschevins who lived close by, he proceeded at once to the hotel, and, with his own followers, the retainers he found on the premises, and those who rapidly came over from the other side of the street, he obliged the Prevot's guard to quit the place. He then at once turned his steps to the chamber of the dead man, and after a hasty examination of the corpse, which excited still stronger suspicions than before, he led the way silently to the room in which he knew that the papers referring to Ganay were usually kept.
All that ensued we have already seen, and, without pursuing any further the events which took place in Ghent, we shall beg leave to follow the young citizen on his journey.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
The transactions of the next few days, though certainly comprising matters of great interest to many of the persons connected with the present history, must be passed over as briefly as possible, because their nature is in a certain sense discordant with the general tenour of the story. This is no tale of battles; unless it be the battle of passions in the human heart; and therefore it is that we give no minute detail of the incidents which befel Albert Maurice in his short but brilliant military career. Suffice it to say, that by happy combinations, and the strenuous exertion of the great activity which was one of the most conspicuous traits in his character, he had, in the short space of five days, thrown forces into Douai and Lille, and had defeated Le Lude and a body of men-at-arms despatched from Arras to cut off his retreat.
Well aware of the mighty effect of success in blowing up the bubble of popularity, he despatched messenger after messenger to Ghent, bearing tidings of each event as it occurred. Joy and gratulation spread through the city; and the people of Ghent, elated by their novel exploits in arms, laid out in fancy vast plans of conquest and aggrandizement, and began to think themselves invincible in the field. Nor was his military success without effect upon the heart of Albert Maurice himself. It did not, it is true, produce such overweening expectations in his own bosom, as it did in those of his weaker fellow citizens. But it certainly did give him fresh confidence in his own powers, from the very fact of finding good fortune attend him in every effort, however new and unfamiliar to his habits and his mind. It nerved him to dare all, and to struggle against every difficulty; and the combination of constant occupation and repeated triumph drowned, for the time, those feelings of remorse and self-upbraiding which, day by day, had been acquiring a stronger hold upon his heart. Besides, it communicated to his mind the refreshing consciousness of being energetically employed in the execution of duties totally unmingled with any baser motive in their origin, or any degrading means in their progress. In the actions which he performed during these four days, he felt that for the first time he was really serving his country--that he was winning a purer glory and gaining a nobler name, than faction or intrigue, whatever might be its object, and whatever might be its result, could ever obtain for man; and his heart expanded with a joy long unknown when, at night he summed up the events of the day, and found that another sun had risen and set on deeds which he could dare all the world to scrutinize. Still the necessity of his immediate return to Ghent was not the less felt; and as soon as ever he had accomplished the great purpose of his expedition, he commenced his march homewards, and pursued it with as much rapidity as possible.
His force was, by this time, reduced to a thousand horse, from the various reinforcements he had thrown into the frontier towns; but nevertheless, confident of his own powers, in returning to Ghent he took a road which passed in the immediate neighbourhood of Tournay, although various bands detached from the garrison of that city were continually making excursions into the country around. He fixed his quarters for the night, after his first day's march homeward, in a little village about three miles to the east of that town; and, taking such precautions as were necessary to guard against surprise, he passed the hours of darkness undisturbed.
It was a fine spring morning when he again put his troops in motion. The sun had just risen; and the fresh, elastic air, driving the vapours of the night before it, had gathered together in the north a wide extent of dark clouds, streaked with the whiter mists that were every moment carried to join them by the wind; while, over all the rest of the sky, the bright sunshine was pouring triumphantly, and flashing upon the diamond drops that the night had left behind on every spray and every blade of grass.
The body of horse which the young citizen commanded moved on quickly, but cautiously, through the by-roads and less direct paths which led between Tournay and Ath; and it had proceeded in this manner for about an hour, when the distant sound of a culverin, followed by a heavy discharge of artillery, was borne upon his ear from the westward. The troopers listened eagerly, with no small curiosity written on their countenances; but the face of Albert Maurice scarcely betrayed that he heard the sounds, except by a curl of the lip, slight indeed, but bitter and contemptuous. He rode on without comment; and, shortly after, as he led his force over the summit of a small hill, he could perceive on looking towards Tournay, though the place itself was hidden by some wavy ground that intervened, a long stream of thick, white smoke, drifting down the valley in which that city stands. He drew in his horse for a moment, and gazed upon the sight; and then, putting his force into a quicker pace, pursued his road onward towards Ghent.
The path which they were following entered, at about the distance of two miles from the spot where they then were, the high road from Tournay to Oudenarde; and, passing among some woody grounds, it lay very much concealed from observation. As they came near the open road, however, Albert Maurice himself proceeded a little in advance of the line to reconnoitre, before he led his forces forth from the less exposed ground below. But ere he reached it, the sounds that he heard were sufficient to satisfy him that the highway was occupied by some party of armed men, either friends or foes. The prospect of meeting with the forces commanded by the Duke of Gueldres was little less disagreeable to him than of encountering a superior body of the enemy, and he accordingly halted his men, riding slowly along the narrow border of copse which separated the low grounds from the high road, in order to ascertain who were his immediate neighbours, and what was the direction they were taking. The trampling of horses, the jingling of armour, laughter, merriment, and oaths, announced sufficiently the presence of a military force; and the moment after, a break in the belt of wood showed him the rear of a body of horsemen passing on in a continuous but somewhat irregular line towards Tournay; while the straight crosses of cut cloth which they wore sewed upon their gambesons, at once designated them as the adherents of France in opposition to Burgundy, the partisans of which dukedom were as universally designated by the cross of St. Andrew.
The young burgher paused for several minutes; and fixing his eye upon a break some way farther down the road, watched till the spears and plumes began to pass by that aperture also, and, by means of the two, easily ascertained that the party he beheld did not amount to more than five hundred men. Though from various traces of recent strife, joined to the merriment that reigned amongst them, he judged, and judged rightly, that the French were returning to Tournay after some successful skirmish, which, he doubted not, had taken place with the Duke of Gueldres; yet, the superiority of his own numbers and his confidence in his own powers, determined him immediately to attack the enemy. This resolution was no sooner formed than executed; and although the space was narrow for the evolutions of cavalry, the road having on one side a large piece of marshy ground, and on the other a scattered wood; yet so unprepared were the French for the attack of the Gandois, and so skilfully did the young citizen employ a raw against a veteran force, that the old soldiers of Louis at once gave way before the fresh levies of Ghent; and while many a man found an ignoble death in the morass, those were the happiest who, by sharp spurring, made their way unscathed to Tournay.
A battery of small cannon, which enfiladed the part of the road that led directly to the gate, protected the fugitives in their retreat; and Albert Maurice, not fully aware of the state of the garrison, and the amount of forces it could pour forth upon his small corps, hastened to retreat from before the walls as soon as he found himself exposed to their artillery. The way seemed clear before him; yet, as he knew that the enterprise of the Duke of Gueldres was to have taken place about that time, and from the firing he had heard in the morning, doubted not it had been attempted on that very day, he could not believe that so small a party as that which he had just driven back, would have ventured forth alone against the superior force of the Gandois; and he felt sure that some larger body of French troops must still lie between him and the retreating army of the Duke of Gueldres.
Under these circumstances, and fearful of tarnishing the gloss of his success by encountering a defeat at last, he caused the country to be well reconnoitred as he advanced; and ere long, the reported appearance of a large force seen moving in the line of the high road, about a league in advance, made him resolve once more to take the paths through the wood to the east, however circuitous and inconvenient, being very well assured, from his knowledge of the country and from his acquaintance with the plans of the people of Ghent, that the line of operations of either party could not have extended far to the east of the Chemin d'Oudenarde, as the high road was called.
He accordingly at once quitted the broad causeway which led directly to Ghent, and passing across some of the wide yellow mustard fields that lay to the right, he gained, unobserved, the shelter of the scattered woods through which he had been before advancing. As he marched on, however, the appearance of some of the fearful vestiges of warfare--now a slain horse--now a long track of blood--now some piece of armour, or some offensive weapon cast away in flight--showed that a deadly strife must have passed not far from the ground over which he was marching. These tokens of battle and defeat, however, soon became less frequent; and, by care and circumspection, he was enabled to guide his forces to a safe distance from Tournay without encountering any of the bands of either party which were scattered over that part of the province. Not knowing the state of the country, and determined, whatever were the case, to force his way onward to Ghent without loss of time, he did not choose to detach any parties from his main body; but he was of course very anxious for intelligence, and it was not long before he received as much as was necessary for the purpose of determining his after proceedings. Ere he had marched half a league, several stragglers belonging to the army of Ghent joined his force; and from them he learned, that on that very morning the Duke of Gueldres had attacked and burned the suburbs of Tournay; but that in effecting his retreat, his rear-guard had been charged by a small force from the town, and had been nearly cut to pieces, notwithstanding extraordinary efforts on the part of the duke himself. That prince was reported to be dead or taken, and the rest of the army had retreated in no small confusion upon Oudenarde.
This discomfiture of the Flemish forces, and the disgrace inflicted on his country, were of course painful, as a whole, to the young citizen; but there were parts of the detail which were not so unpleasant; for his successes of course stood out in brighter light from their contrast with the failure of the larger division; and as it appeared, by the account of the fugitives, that the party which had defeated the Duke of Gueldres was the very same that he himself had in turn overthrown and driven into Tournay, the mortification would be in some degree softened to the people of Ghent, while he could not find in his heart to grieve very bitterly for their defeated commander.
The intelligence that he now received of the state of the garrison of Tournay--which it appeared was very scanty, but bold and enterprising in the extreme--made him resolve to halt for the night at the first village on the road, in order to keep the forces of that city in check, while the dispersed parties of Flemings effected their retreat. He accordingly took up his quarters at the little town of Frasne, on the edge of the wood, and immediately sent out parties to reconnoitre the country, and bring in any stragglers they might meet with. Few were found, indeed; but from their information, the young burgher was led to suppose that the great body of the forces, which had issued from Ghent two days before, had made good its retreat, without any farther loss than the discomfiture of its rear-guard. By the time these facts were fully ascertained, the evening was too far advanced to make any farther movement; and Albert Maurice, having taken measures to hold his present position in security, laid by the weighty armour with which, according to the custom of the day, he was encumbered on the march, and strolled out alone into the wood, to give way to thoughts which had long been sternly pressing for attention.
He was now returning towards Ghent, where he could not hide from himself that new scenes of intrigue, of anxiety, and of trouble, lay before him. His previous conduct in the same career had given birth to regrets which he had determined to scan and try more accurately than he ever yet had done; and from his judgment on the past, to form a firm and inflexible determination for the future. He found, too, that now was the moment when the self-examination must begin, if ever it was to be attempted; and many circumstances combined to render it less painful than it had appeared before. Previous to the expedition in which he was now engaged, the commune with his own heart had offered so little but pure bitterness, that he had avoided it with care. But his recent successes, in which was to be found no matter for self-reproach, afforded him something wherewith to balance more painful contemplations; and with a decided purpose of indulging that craving for calm reflection which had long preyed upon him, he went forth totally alone, merely saying to his attendants that he would speedily return.
Of course, it is not possible to follow the thoughts of Albert Maurice through all the tortuous and uncertain ways which the human heart pursues in its examination of itself. The result, however, was painful. He compared what he had done, now that power was given into his hands, with what he had proposed to do, when that power existed but in expectation. Not six months before he had determined, if ever circumstances should favour the exertion of his abilities in the wide arena of political strife, to dedicate all the talents and energy of his mind solely to the good of his country: to free her from oppression, to remedy the evils of her situation, to open the way for arts and civilization, to place laws and rights upon such a footing that they could never be doubted nor destroyed, and to accomplish all this by the most calm and peaceful means, without spilling one unnecessary drop of blood, without causing one eye through all the land to shed a tear.
Such had been his purpose, but what had been his conduct, and what had he become? He had appropriated to himself nearly the whole power of the state. He had obtained influence greater than his fondest expectations had held out. He had not improved one law. He had not removed one evil. He had seen, under his own authority, anarchy substituted for civil order and domestic peace. He had involved himself in the meanest wiles of faction and intrigue. He had beheld innocent blood shed by the hands of the populace. He had himself brought about the death of two noble-minded men, who, his own heart told him, were innocent of the crimes with which they were charged; and conscience thundered in his ear that they were murdered for his ambition. He could no longer look upon himself as a patriot. He knew himself to have become solely an ambitious demagogue; and he saw no means of extricating himself or his country from the state into which he had aided to immerse it, but by pursuing the same dark and intricate intrigues, the mean cunning of which he felt bitterly to be degrading to his better nature--by shedding more blood, by stirring up more discord, and by plunging deeper and deeper into the abyss of anarchy and confusion.
While such a conviction forced itself upon his mind, he almost shrunk from himself; and the small, still voice within whispered that but one way was left--to yield the hand of Mary of Burgundy to any prince whose state and situation offered the most immediate prospect of benefit and support to his country; to make price of that fair hand and the rich dowry that went with it, the full recognition of such popular rights as would put the freedom and prosperity of Flanders for ever beyond a doubt, and on his own part to resign the hopes and aspirations that had led him so far astray. But those hopes--those aspirations--had become parts of his very soul; and to require him to cast them from him, was to bid him die. As the bare idea crossed his mind of resigning Mary of Burgundy--of seeing her in the arms of another--the blood rushed up into his head with violence; and he paused abruptly on his way, resolved, if thought presented such images, to think no more. The good and the evil principle were in his heart at eternal war; calm reflection instantly gave the good full promise of victory; but the evil had but to call up the idea of Mary of Burgundy as the wife of another, to banish reflection altogether, and every better purpose along with it.
He had, by this time, advanced somewhat far into the wood, and the faint grey of the sky announced that the sun was sinking rapidly below the horizon, and warned him to return to the village. The road he had followed was a long grassy path, cut by the wheels of the wood-carts; and there was no mistaking his way back. But, as he paused, determined to think no more, since thought required such bitter sacrifices, he looked onward vacantly, ere he turned, directing with difficulty his mind towards external things, the better to withdraw it from himself. As he did so, he remarked, at the bottom of the slope, down which the path proceeded, some large white object lying amongst the long grass which fringed a little forest stream. The distance was not more than a hundred yards in advance; and attracted, he knew not very well why, he strode on almost unconsciously towards the spot. As he came nearer, the object which had caught his eye assumed the form of a horse, either dead or asleep; and to ascertain which was the case he still walked forward, till he stood close beside it, and found that it was the carcase of a splendid charger, which had dropped apparently from exhaustion and loss of blood. A rich military saddle and a poitrel, inlaid with gold, announced that the rank of the rider must have been high; while a fresh wound in the poor beast's side, and another in his thigh, seemed to show that he had been engaged in the skirmish of that morning.
Albert Maurice gazed on the horse for a moment, not exactly with indifference, but with no great interest in a sight which had been frequently before his eyes during the last two or three days. The thing that principally attracted his attention, indeed, was the costliness of the caparisons; and he looked round the little glade in which he now stood, to see if he could perceive any further traces of the horse's owner. His eye instantly rested upon a pile of splendid arms, cast heedlessly down at a short distance; and as he walked forward to examine them also, a man started up, as if from sleep, amongst the fern which there thickly clothed the forest ground, exclaiming--"Who goes there?"
A single glance sufficed to show Albert Maurice that he stood in presence of the Duke of Gueldres; and that prince almost as soon perceived whom he himself had encountered. No great love existed between them, it is true; but a natural compassion for the defeat and disappointment which the duke had that day sustained, and a conviction that that defeat, together with his own success, had removed all danger from the rivalry of the other, greatly softened the feeling of enmity in the bosom of the young citizen; and a word would have disarmed him entirely. The contrary, however, was the case with Adolphus of Gueldres, who, naturally furious and impatient, had been rendered almost insane by defeat and disgrace. He had heard, too, it would seem, of the late successes of Albert Maurice; and jealousy and envy were thus added to hatred. His words and his manner had been quick and vehement, even before he had seen who it was that roused him. But no sooner did he distinguish the features of the young citizen, than the thought of his own overthrow and of the triumph of Albert Maurice, mingled with remembrance of the opposition he had formerly met with, and the cool contempt with which he had been treated on their last meeting, all rose up in his mind; and his countenance became convulsed with passion.
"Ha!" he cried, "you here, Sir Mechanic! you here to insult and triumph over me! Or have you come to finish out what we but began in the town-hall of Ghent? Doubtless you have! Quick, then! Quick! Draw, sir, draw your sword, I say! Thank God, there is no one here, either to part us, or to see the Duke of Gueldres stain his blade with the blood of a low citizen!"
Albert Maurice himself was not, naturally, the most patient of men; and he instantly laid his hand upon his sword. But nobler feelings checked him the moment after; and he paused in the act, saying--"You had better reflect, my lord!"
Before he could add another word, however, the Duke of Gueldres struck him a blow with the pommel of his weapon, that made him reel; and the next moment their blades were crossed.
Complete master of every military exercise, powerful, active, quick-sighted and calm, Albert Maurice was far more than a match for the Duke of Gueldres, though that prince had always been reputed a stout and skilful man-at-arms. So great, indeed, did the young President feel his own superiority to be, that, had he not been heated in some degree by the blow he had received, he would, most probably, have contented himself with wounding or disarming his antagonist. But he was heated with the insult; and in four passes, the sword of the Duke of Gueldres, turned from its course, was wounding the empty air over the shoulder of Albert Maurice, while the blade of the young citizen passed direct through the chest of his adversary.
Albert Maurice recovered his weapon, and gazed for a moment on the Duke, whose mortal career he felt must be at its close. But that unhappy prince stood before him for an instant, still grasping his sword, and still apparently firm upon his feet, though a ghastly swimming of his eyes showed what a convulsive agony was moving his frame within. He made no further effort to lunge again; but he stood there by a sort of rigid effort, which sufficed for a time to keep him from falling, though that was all. The next moment the sword dropped. He reeled giddily; and then fell back with a fearful sort of sobbing in his throat.
Albert Maurice kneeled down beside him, and strove to stanch the blood (which was now flowing copiously from his wounds) in such a degree as to enable him to speak, should he have any directions to give before he died. He brought some water, also, from the brook hard by, and sprinkled his face; and the duke almost instantly opened his eyes, and gazed wildly about for a moment.
Then, as his glance met that of Albert Maurice, he exclaimed, in the same harsh and brutal tone he had before used, "You have slain me fellow! you have slain me! Out upon it, churl! you have spilt some of the best blood of the land."
"My lord," said Albert Maurice, solemnly, "you have brought it on yourself. But think not of that at this moment! You are dying. There is such a thing as another world; and, oh! repent you of your sins while you are yet in this!"
"Is it you tell me to repent?" cried the duke, faintly, "you who have shortened my time for repentance. What know you of my sins?"
"Nothing, but by report, my lord," replied the young citizen; "except, indeed, on one occasion--the fire at the pleasure-house of Lindenmar--the death of the young heir of Hannut!"
The duke groaned. "Oh! were that all," cried he, "were that all, that might soon be pardoned; for my own hands in some degree undid what my own voice commanded. But stay, stay," he added, speaking far more quickly, "stay! The old man, they say, still grieves for his child; still, perhaps, suspects me. Fly to him quick. Tell him the boy did not die in the flames of Lindenmar. Tell him, tell him that I bore him away myself. Tell him that, bad as I was, I could not resist the look of helpless infancy; that I carried him away wrapped in my mantle; and when my own boy died, bred him as mine; that I was kind to him; that I loved him, till the butchers of Duke Philip murdered him, when they cast me into prison at Namur."
A light broke at once upon the mind of the young citizen. "Good God!" he cried, "he is not dead. He lives, my lord, he lives! He escaped, found refuge with his own father; ay, and was instrumental in procuring your liberation from prison. He lives--indeed, he lives!"
The eyes of the Duke of Gueldres fixed upon him as he spoke, with an intense and half-doubting gaze. But as the young burgher repeated earnestly, "He lives!" the dying man, by a great effort, half raised himself from the ground, clasped his hands together, and exclaimed, "Thank God!" They were the last words he ever spoke; for almost as he uttered them, he closed his eyes, as if a faint sickness had come over him, fell back upon the turf with a convulsive shudder; and in a few moments Adolphus of Gueldres was no more.
Albert Maurice gazed upon him with a feeling of painful interest. He had slain him, it is true, under circumstances which he believed to justify the deed. But no one, that is not in heart a butcher, can, under any circumstances, take life hand to hand, without feeling that a shadow has settled over existence. There is always something to be remembered, always something that can never be forgotten. In the case of the young citizen, too, the cloud was of a deeper shade; for he felt that in the death of the Duke of Gueldres, however justified by the immediate provocation, he had taken another life in that course of ambition, in which he foresaw that many more must fall.
Thus in gloomy bitterness, he took his way back to the village, and, without any explanation, gave orders that the dead body should be brought in with honour. The soldiers concluded that both horse and man had died by the hands of the enemy; and Albert Maurice, in quitting his quarters the next morning, gave strict directions that the remains of the deceased prince should be immediately sent after him to Ghent.
After his departure, however, before a bier could be got ready, and all the necessary preparations entered into, a party from the town of Tournay swept the little village of Frasne; and the body of the Duke, being found there, was carried away by the French. Due honours were shown to the corpse by the people of Tournay; and many writers of that age attribute the death of Adolphus, the bad Duke of Gueldres, to the successful sortie of the garrison of that city.