About seven o'clock at night, a post arrived in Ghent, bearing the unwelcome intelligence that Hesden, Montreul, Boulogne, Cambray, and many other places, had yielded to the arms of France; that Philippe de Crevecœur, the oldest and most tried servant of the house of Burgundy, had gone over to the enemy; and that Arras itself was lost to Flanders. Such were the tidings that reached Albert Maurice, while busily debating with Ganay, in a private chamber of the Hotel de Ville, the means of raising, as rapidly as possible, a large force for the defence of the country.
The messenger delivered the sealed packets into the hands of the young President, with notice that they were of the utmost importance; but, ere he opened them, Albert Maurice dismissed the bearer calmly, and finished the phrase which his entrance had interrupted. He then broke the seals, and read; but as he proceeded, notwithstanding his great command over his own feelings, it was clear, from the contraction of his brow, and the quivering of his lip, that the tale therein written was anything but pleasing.
Casting them on the table, after a moment's deep thought, the young citizen laid his hand sternly upon the papers, and approaching the lamp towards them, pointed to the fatal tidings from Arras, saying to his keen companion--"This is sad! this is terrible! We must, if possible, keep this from the knowledge of the council, till this pitiful ambassador has had his reply."
Ganay read the contents of the papers over, word by word; then raising his eyes to the face of his companion, and compressing his thin, bloodless lips, he replied, calmly but sternly--"Imbercourt must die!"
Albert Maurice started. "No, no! not so," replied he; "I am not one of those tigers, Ganay, to cross whose path is death. He may oppose me in the council; he may even thwart me in my plans; and yet not die, Ganay. But if he betray my country, his deed be upon his head. I will crush him with my heel, as I would a viper."
"Imbercourt must die!" reiterated Ganay, in the same stern, determined tone he had used before. "He will betray your country and mine--and he dies. I have marked him well, I see his plans. He, like the traitors who have gone over before, will sell his country to France for French gold; and he must die. The only difference between him and this Philippe de Crevecœur is, that the one, less cunning than the other, went over with nothing but his own brute courage to sell; while this Imbercourt, take my word for it, will carry, as merchandise to Louis of France, the hand of Mary of Burgundy, and the coronet of all these states."
"Never!" cried Albert Maurice, stung to the heart, as the other had intended, and striking his clenched hand upon the table; "never! My head or his shall whiten in the wind over the battlements of Ghent, before such a sacrifice be consummated."
The moment he had spoken, however, he felt that he had given Ganay an advantage; and well understanding that the game between him and his subtle comrade was one that admitted of no oversight, and that he must be as much upon his guard with his apparent friend as with a declared enemy, he hastened to turn the conversation from a topic on which he could not speak wisely. "We must think farther," he said; "we must think farther! In the meantime," he added, abruptly, "see you to this messenger, and ensure that he do not spread his news abroad before the reception of the worthy ambassador whom Louis has deigned to send. I have that in yon cabinet which shall overthrow, at a word, all that his cunning can advance, were he as cunning as the fiend whose name he takes. At the same time, Ganay, I must trust to your zeal also, my friend, for the skilful management of our other purpose. This Duke of Gueldres you must render popular with the citizens, and oppose him strongly to the Duke of Cleves. Not too far, however. I would equally divide between them the power that the Duke of Cleves at present holds entire. Better it were, nevertheless, that the people over-favoured him of Gueldres, than the other; for he has no hope. Every noble in the land would rise up against him; and, at the worst, it were but three passes of this steel," and he touched the hilt of his sword, "to send him howling to the place he has so long deserved; and to win me the thanks of all the world, for ridding it of such a monster."
Notwithstanding all his care, Albert Maurice felt, and felt angrily, that the eager passions of his heart would burst forth and display more of his real feelings and emotions than he was willing to expose. Ganay smiled, too, as he listened; and with his smiles there was always mingled a degree of mockery of the person who excited them, which rendered their meaning very doubtful.
"May I trust you?" demanded Albert Maurice, sternly.
"You may," answered the druggist. "Doubt me not; for with you, Albert Maurice, I am more frank a thousand-fold than with any other human being. We are like two men playing one game of chess, against a whole host of adversaries; and it is necessary that we should see each other's moves. Your game I know, Albert; and mine I do not seek to conceal from you; for it would be both useless and fatiguing. I will, then, do your bidding in regard to these two men of Cleves and Gueldres; and so play them off against each other, that they shall both combine, in their dissensions, to raise you to the height of your ambition."
He spoke boldly; and Albert Maurice felt that, for once at least, he spoke truly. He saw, indeed, that although they were in some sort partners in the game, as Ganay had depicted them, yet they were playing for different stakes, and might soon find that they had different interests.
"And when this game is won, Ganay," said he, calmly, after a brief pause, "this game in which you and I stand as partners, say, are we to turn round the board, and singly play one short game more, against each other? Ha! is it not so?"
"No; on my life!" replied Ganay, with a degree of fervour unusual with him. "No, on my life, young man. I have my passions, like my neighbours; but I am without ambition. Do you, too, believe me without a touch of feeling? You have shown me kindness in times past: you once saved the life of one that is now no more; three years ago you held my head when it throbbed with fever, when we were together on the shores of the Adriatic: and if you cross not my purpose, if you oppose not the stronger passion, which guides, and struggles with, and masters all, you shall find that my gratitude is only second to my revenge. Even more," he added, resuming his ordinary air of calm shrewdness: "I can even grateful for those things which I accomplish by your means, though without your will; and our common efforts for one great purpose bind us together more firmly than you think. So, now, farewell! but remember, I tell you Imbercourt is a traitor, and he must die!"
"If he be a traitor, die most certainly he shall," replied Albert Maurice; "but in regard to that man, I mistrust my own motives too much to rely on my own judgment. More, Ganay! still more! I mistrust your motives, too; and I will not rely on your judgment either. Nay, protest not! I see your bitter persevering hatred of that man as clearly as if your bosom were of glass, though I see not the occasion of it. But it matters not what be the occasion. I doubt myself, and I doubt you; and others, more impartial than either you or I, shall judge him, though, God knows, I know no cause of enmity you can have towards him. So now, farewell."
Ganay's lip curled with a very mingled expression, as Albert Maurice pronounced the last words, but he made no reply; and, leaving the young citizen, he proceeded to confer with the messenger who had lately arrived, and then held a long and secret conference with Maillotin du Bac.
The post that brought such unwelcome tidings from the frontier supped well at the Maison de Ville, and, resting his weary limbs upon his bed, soon found the sweet sleep of fatigue; nor did he ever stir from the precincts of the building. No one saw him without its gates; no one held conference with him within, except in the presence of Ganay himself. Nevertheless, before an hour had passed, the whole news he had brought were known to Imbercourt, and were by him carried straight to the princess. How it reached him it were hard to say, for no post came to the Cours du Prince from that quarter, but still he had learned it all. Not a word had escaped him, the whole evil tidings were known, and the consternation was excited which Albert Maurice had been so desirous of warding off, till the ambassador from France had been received and dismissed. The views of the young citizen in this desire were certainly partly patriotic and partly personal; but his immediate object was to send back the messenger of the deceitful Louis with such a reply as would render the project of a union between France and Burgundy hopeless. Every fresh success of the French king of course strengthened the arguments of those who advocated the marriage of Mary with the Dauphin; and this torrent of evil tidings was well calculated to overpower all opposition.
Such had been the light in which Albert Maurice had seen the effect likely to be produced by the progress of Louis; but in vain, however, did he take measures to conceal it. Each event, rather magnified than otherwise, reached the ears of Imbercourt, and by him were that very night detailed to Mary herself. Tidings had arrived in Ghent, not long before, that almost the whole of the duchy of Burgundy also had been overrun by French troops; and this, together with the unresisted advance of the King of France on the side of Flanders, the total loss of Picardy, Artois, and the Boulonnois, the desertion of her friends, the turbulence of her subjects, and the power of her enemies, overcame at length the unhappy girl's hopes and her firmness. After a long conference with Imbercourt and her chancellor, as well as with her cousin, the Lord of Ravestein, and her best of friends, Margaret, her father's widow, in an evil hour Mary consented to send the two former on a mission to the base monarch who was usurping her inheritance.
Under their dictation, with a trembling hand, she wrote part of a letter to Louis XI.; but where she came to give them power to treat of her alliance with France, her feelings overpowered her, and the tears gushing from her eyes, obscured her sight.
"Give me the pen, my sweet child," said Margaret of York. "My Lord of Ravestein and myself, your two nearest relatives and friends, will each write a part under your direction: so shall the document acquire additional weight, as showing the wishes of so many persons."
This was accordingly done, and Mary calmly heard a paper read, which she felt was binding her to misery for life. With a hurried hand she signed her name, but she could bear no more, and hastened from the chamber.
"Poor child!" said Margaret of York. "Poor child. But now, my Lord of Imbercourt, lose not a moment. No communication with this coming ambassador will answer our purpose. You must see Louis himself; and treat with himself, and put forth all your wisdom to meet all his cunning. Hasten to Peronne; fear not to bloody your spurs on the road, for not a minute that flies, till you are before the King of France, may not serve to recall this most necessary paper."
While this determination was adopted by the counsellors, Mary was followed from the room by Alice of Imbercourt; and the moment she had reached her chamber, that princess cast herself upon the bosom of her fair attendant, and wept most bitterly. "Fear not, madam," whispered Alice, "fear not! You shall yet wed him you love."
Mary had never acknowledged her lingering hopes even to Alice of Imbercourt, perhaps hardly to her own heart. But now the more vehement passion overcame the milder feeling, and timidity was forgotten in grief. "Never, Alice! never!" sobbed Mary; "I have just signed away my last and only chance!"
"Fear not!" again repeated the young lady. "Do you remember, madam, when you would not read the scheme of your future fate in the castle of Hannut?"
"Well, very well!" replied Mary, raising her head and drying her eyes; "what then, my Alice?"
"Do you remember, then, that I stayed behind," continued her companion, "when you quitted my uncle's observatory? Well; I remained long enough to give you consolation even now; for I saw there written, that the coronet of an archduchess was to bind the brow of my fair mistress."
Mary drew a deep and doubtful sigh; but there was a bright blush rose also in her cheek, which might seem an augury of hope; and it were false to say that she did not derive some comfort even from the predictions of a science, which, since the excitement of her visit to the castle of Hannut had worn away, she could hardly be said to believe.
At that period, however, each day of the life of Mary of Burgundy was a day of renewed care and anxiety; and the proceedings of the next morning opened with the tedious and painful ceremony of receiving the ambassador from the French monarch.
At the hour appointed it was announced that the Count de Meulan waited, and Mary took her seat in state, with the Bishop of Liege on one hand and the Duke of Cleves on the other, while Albert Maurice and various members of the council stood round. It had struck the young citizen, however, as soon as he entered the hall of audience, that neither Imbercourt nor Hugonet, the two chief supporters of what was called the French party, were present; and it appeared to him not a little extraordinary that they should be absent, if in the town, when such an opportunity for showing their respect to the King of France occurred, as the public reception of his envoy. During the time that elapsed between his own arrival and the introduction of the ambassador, he asked frequently, but in vain, for the absent counsellors, and on every movement near the door looked for their appearance, supposing that the business of the day could not or would not proceed without their presence. He was not a little surprised, however, when the order for admitting the Count de Meulan was at length given in their absence.
The doors were soon thrown open; and, dressed in the excess of splendour, but with a certain crouching and stealthy pace, habitual to the barber of the most cunning king in Europe, Olivier le Dain entered the hall, and approached the chair of the princess. After the ceremony of his introduction, which he went through, not without grace, but without dignity, the ambassador was commanded to deliver his letters, which he accordingly did. These were found to be in full and correct form, and he was then directed to state the purport of his embassy, and what he was charged to communicate to the Princess of Burgundy, from her cousin the King of France.
Here, however, the envoy hesitated; and, after a moment's thought, replied in a low, soft voice, that he was directed by his master, Louis, the most Christian king, to explain his views and wishes to his beloved cousin and god-daughter, the Princess Mary, in private, and to her alone. He therefore, he said, craved a private audience, in which his communication should be more full and complete.
The Bishop of Liege--whose territories lay too close to the French frontier, and whose interests were too nearly connected with those of France to suffer him to feel any great personal interest in the distinct rights of the House of Burgundy--had hitherto been the person who spoke on the part of the princess. He of course had evinced every sort of respect for the ambassador of the French King; but at this point the Duke of Cleves broke in; and with a haughty and contemptuous tone, informed the Count de Meulan, that what he demanded was not consistent with the customs of the court of Burgundy. He must, therefore, he said, declare openly his errand to the princess surrounded by her council, for no other course of proceeding could be permitted.
Again the ambassador hesitated: uttering several sentences, from which, though loaded with fine and sounding words, and gilded with a show of argument, all that could be gathered was, that the open communication required by the council was contrary to his monarch's commands. He then seemed about to retire; but at that moment Albert Maurice advanced a little before the rest, and craved leave to explain the object and views of the ambassador, which that functionary seemed to have so much difficulty in doing for himself. The assembled court, and the ambassador likewise, gazed on him with some surprise; but the young citizen proceeded.
"In the first place," he said, "your Grace will be glad to hear, who is the noble envoy whom that mighty monarch, Louis, King of France, thinks fit to send to the court of Burgundy: to the daughter of that great prince who overthrew him in the field by valour and skill, and who foiled him in the cabinet by decision and boldness. Allow me, in the man who calls himself Count de Meulan, to introduce to your notice Olivier le Dain, or by some called Le Mechant, barber to the most Christian King, born at Thielt, and serving as a barber's boy at Saarvelt, near this city."
A roar of laughter burst from the nobles of Burgundy; and Albert Maurice proceeded, waving his hand to the doorkeepers to prevent the barber from making his exit too rapidly. "Do not let the worthy ambassador depart till he has heard me explain the object of his coming. I hold here in my hand, by the favour of some unknown friend who sent these papers to me, a copy of the private instructions of the King of France to the Barber Ambassador, which direct him, strictly, to keep the princess and the court of Burgundy engaged in long and tedious negotiations, while he strives in private to persuade the people of Ghent to invite the King of France to enter their territory. He is further ordered to spare no means, neither money nor promises, to make the good men of this city declare for the King of France, and throw off the authority of their lawful sovereign. To this, by your Grace's permission, I, as the only individual of the burgher class in this presence, will take upon me to reply, that Louis, King of France, mistakes entirely the character and disposition of the men of Ghent; for, though they may be anxious to preserve their own liberties and privileges, they are no less anxious to preserve the legitimate authority of their sovereign; and, though they are never disposed to submit to tyranny from their own princes, they are no less determined to resist all foreign domination. Let him learn that he can neither buy us with his gold, nor fool us with his promises; and that his intrigues and offers will be equally in vain with the men of Ghent. It is for you, my lords," he continued, turning to the members of the council present, "as older men, and more experienced in the ways of courts than myself, it is for you to judge what course ought to be pursued towards a man who comes as ambassador to a sovereign prince, and, at the same time, undertakes to seduce the subjects of that prince from their allegiance; who approaches the presence of an oppressed princess, from the man who is robbing her of her territories and massacring her subjects, affecting in words and in style to negotiate with her as the messenger of a friend and a relation, while his real errand is to excite treason amongst her people, and to bribe her citizens to revolt. It is for you, my lords, I say, to judge what is to be done with the caitiff who undertakes such a commission for such a man!"
"Nail his ears to the door-post!" cried the Lord of Vere, an impetuous noble of North Zealand.
"Throw him into the river!" cried the Duke of Cleves; "such treatment does he well deserve."
Various other pleasant modes of disposing of the person of the barber ambassador were suggested by different members of the council, probably without any intention of carrying them into effect. They were not, however, without producing some impression, and that of no very agreeable nature, upon the mind of Olivier le Dain himself. That worthy personage had listened to the speech of Albert Maurice in downcast silence. No flush betrayed his agitation or shame, though his lip quivered a little, and at one time he took two or three steps towards the door. But when he heard the many unceremonious methods of treatment proposed, he gradually crept back till he was within a step of the entrance of the chamber. His face was still turned towards the council; and he still seemed listening attentively to the somewhat bitter strictures which were passing upon his own conduct; but he showed no inclination to retreat farther than was absolutely necessary to keep himself out of the reach of violent hands, so that the doorkeepers were off their guard. As the Duke of Cleves spoke, the barber paused and listened, gave a furtive glance over his shoulder; and then, without any effort towards taking leave, he darted out of the presence at once, reached the court-yard, mounted his horse, and galloped away to the inn where he had lodged.
Before he arrived at that building, however, he began to feel that his apprehensions of personal violence had probably been a little too hasty; and a loud laugh, which he remembered to have heard, as he quitted the audience-hall, confirmed him in that opinion. The calm reflection of a few hours, during which he seemed totally forgotten by the whole town, refreshed his courage and re-animated his hopes; and, therefore, not to abandon his purpose without another effort, he ventured to ride out in the evening; but the moment that he presented himself in the streets, he was greeted with so much mockery and laughter, that he soon found the attempt would be vain. A full account of his birth and situation had been industriously circulated amongst the people during the day; and as nothing excites the hatred and contempt of the populace more than to see a person sprung from amongst themselves, affecting the airs and splendour of a class above them, they were all prepared to shower upon his head every sort of ridicule and abuse. No sooner did he appear than this determination to insult and annoy him in every different way, began to manifest itself among the people. One held a pewter basin before his horse's head; another lifted up his rugged chin, and begged that his highness would shave him, just to keep his hand in; and a third exclaimed, that he must not think to lead the people of Ghent by the nose, though he might often have taken the King of France by that organ.
Just while he was turning away from these unpleasant salutations, in order to return as fast as possible to his hotel, some shouts met his ear, which seemed rapidly coming nearer, and in a moment after he perceived half a dozen horsemen cantering easily down the street, with a number of men and boys running by the sides of the horses, shouting loudly, "Long live the Duke of Gueldres! long live the noble Duke of Gueldres!" The horseman at their head was a powerful handsome man, of about fifty, with a coarse and bold expression of countenance, but still possessing that easy air of dignity and command, which is a part of the education of princes. Some one, as the cavalcade approached, recognising the person of the French ambassador by his splendid dress and gaudy train, shouted out the name and various opposite occupations of Master Olivier le Dain; and the Duke of Gueldres, dashing on, drove his horse rudely against that of the unfortunate barber, which reared with the stroke, and almost plunged him into the canal, near which they were riding.
"Ha, ha! Master Barber," shouted the Duke, in the rough and brutal tone which he usually employed, when he had no purpose to answer which might require softer speech; "thou canst never shave without water, man, but there is plenty in the canal."
The populace roared their applause; and while Olivier le Dain, keeping his seat with difficulty, made the best of his way back to his inn, and thence for ever out of the gates of Ghent, the Duke of Gueldres rode on, nor stopped till he sprang from his horse at the house of Albert Maurice.
Representatives from all the different cities of that part of Belgium which was then under the dominion of Burgundy, had arrived in Ghent the day before; and at the moment when the Duke of Gueldres approached, the young President was in the act of despatching a deputation to Louis XI. then encamped at Arras. Albert Maurice, be it remarked, went not himself; but at the head of the deputation, on the part of Ghent, was the druggist Ganay.
The Duke of Gueldres found the street before the young citizen's house crowded with horses and horse boys; and the different chambers of the house itself filled with the attendants of the deputies and the officers of the city--messengers, visitors, soldiers, and spectators--displayed a spectacle more like the palace of a sovereign prince than the house of a simple merchant in a Flemish town.
"By my faith," the Duke muttered, as he walked on amidst robes, and embroidery, and gold chains, and furred gowns, "times have strangely changed with the good city of Ghent, since that cursed tyrant shut me up in his old stone rat-trap. Which is Albert Maurice?" he then demanded of a merchant who was passing out; "which is the grand bailli--which is the president of the municipal council?"
"Yonder he stands at the head of the table," replied the merchant, "speaking with the deputies of Utrecht and Bruges."
At that moment the eye of the young citizen fell upon the Duke of Gueldres; and--though he was unannounced, and Albert Maurice had never beheld him before--either from having heard his personal appearance described, or from having seen some picture of him, the burgher at once recognised the prince, and advanced a step or two to meet him.
The Duke of Gueldres was surprised to behold so young a man chosen from amongst the jealous and factious citizens of Ghent, to wield the chief authority of the city, to fill two of the most important offices, and to influence so strongly the councils of all Flanders; but he was still more surprised to find that high and dignified tone in the merchant, which so well became his station. He had been prepared to see the president in possession of vast power, but he now perceived that his power was greatly derived from his superiority to his class, and he at once saw the necessity of suiting his demeanour, for the time at least, to the man. With a degree of suavity which no one knew better how to assume, when it answered his purpose, than Adolphus, Duke of Gueldres, that base and brutal prince, now, with his manner softened down to an appearance of mere generous frankness, thanked the young citizen for his liberation, and told him that he had good reason to know that the happy event was solely owing to his intervention.
Albert Maurice at once gracefully complimented the duke on his enlargement, and disclaimed all title to gratitude for an act which, he said, emanated from the princess herself. He had, he acknowledged, strongly advised her to the course she had pursued, when she had condescended to consult him upon the subject; but he assured the duke that she had first spoken of her kinsman's liberation, before he had ventured to propose such a proceeding.
"Well, well," replied the duke, "I knew not that my fair cousin was so generous, but I will kiss her pretty cheek in token of my thanks, which, perhaps, she will think no unpleasant way of showing one's gratitude."
The blood rushed up to the temples of the young citizen; but he made no reply, and merely bowed low. He then begged the Duke to excuse him for a few moments, while he concluded the business in which he had been engaged. The prince replied that he would detain him no longer; and Albert Maurice, with cold and formal courtesy, suffered him to depart--from that moment either a secret or an avowed enemy. As soon as he was gone, the young citizen took leave of the deputies, besought them to make all speed to meet the king, and directed them to beg him--instead of hastening on to plunge the two nations into long and sanguinary wars--to halt his armies, till such time as the states general could devise and propose to his majesty some fair means of general pacification.
He then gave into the hands of Ganay a letter, fully authorizing the deputation to treat, in the name of the princess, which instrument had been unwillingly wrung from Mary during the morning, notwithstanding the secret powers which she had so lately given to Imbercourt and Hugonet. To this Albert Maurice added a private injunction, to trace and discover all the movements of the two ministers, whose absence from the council of that day he had remarked: and there was a sort of fierce and flashing eagerness in the eye of the young citizen, as he spoke this in a low whisper, which the druggist marked with pleasure and expectation.[6]
The results of this deputation to the crafty monarch of France are so well known, that they need but short recapitulation. Louis received the members of the Belgian states with all civility, and treated them individually with distinction; as that wily monarch well knew, that through the intervention of such men alone he could hope to win that extensive territory, which he was striving to add to France. At the same time, he positively refused to treat with them in their official capacity, and affected, at first, a great degree of mystery in regard to his reasons for so doing, assigning a thousand vague and unsatisfactory motives, which he well knew would not be believed for a moment, but which he was aware would induce the deputies--encouraged by his homely and good-humoured manner--to press so strongly for a further explanation, as to afford him some excuse for the base treachery he meditated against their sovereign.
The deputies fell into the trap he laid; made use of every argument to induce him to negotiate with them upon the powers they had received from their several cities; and finally urged, that if he would not acknowledge them as the representatives of the towns of Flanders, Hainault, and Brabant, he must at least consent to receive them as ambassadors from the young Duchess of Burgundy, whose letters of authority they then tendered.
Still, however, Louis refused; and, at length, as if worn out by importunity, he said, "My good friends of Ghent and the other towns of Flanders, you must very well know, from my whole conduct towards you, that I would rather treat with you than with any other persons. I am a plain man, and love to deal with plain citizens; but you are entirely mistaken in supposing that you possess the confidence of my dear god-child Mary, Duchess of Burgundy, or that you are really authorized to treat for her. It is not impossible," he added, with a self-satisfied and yet mysterious air, "it is not at all impossible, that, were I so disposed, I might show you a letter, written partly in her own hand, partly in that of the Duchess Dowager, and partly in that of the good Lord of Ravestein, directing me to place confidence in no persons but my excellent good friends, and faithful servants, the Lord of Imbercourt, and William de Hugonet, Chancellor of Burgundy, who were both with me at Peronne for many hours some nights ago, and are by this time back again in Ghent."
The deputies, confounded and surprised, expressed, in the first heat of their astonishment, a very uncourtly doubt of the truth of the king's statement; and Louis, affecting to consider his honour impugned, committed one of the basest acts of the many that stain his memory, and produced the private letter of the Princess Mary to the eyes of her turbulent and headstrong subjects. Furious with indignation and disappointment, the deputies retired from the presence of the king, without having concluded anything, and journeyed on with all speed towards Ghent, neglecting the great and vital business of the moment, in order to plunge into fresh scenes of anarchy and confusion.
Louis saw them depart with scorn and triumph; and, as proud of his successful villany as ever conqueror was of a final victory, he marched on to new successes in every direction, satisfied that, in the discontented spirit of the people of Ghent, he had a faithful ally that not even self-interest could sever from him.
It is wonderful, though common to a proverb, that days of sunshiny brightness and placid tranquillity should so often precede great convulsions in the natural and the political world; and that although "coming events often cast their shadows before them," yet that the storm, when it does approach, should almost always find the world all smiling, and the birds in song.
The day after the return of the deputation from Arras, the aspect of the city of Ghent was more like that which it had been during the most brilliant days of Philippe the Good and Charles the Bold, than it had appeared for many months. The shops and booths, which projected into the street, and which, being totally unprovided with any means of defence against popular violence, were generally closed in times of tumult and disturbance, were now again all open, and full of the finest wares. Mountebanks of different grades, and those who sold books, and repeated verses, were exercising their usual vocations at the corners of the streets. Burghers and their wives, lords and ladies, artisans and peasantry, all in their gayest dresses--for it was one of the high festivals of the year--moved about in the streets and, to crown all, the foul weather had disappeared, and the sun shone out with a warm and promising beam.
A great multitude had collected near the palace gates, to see the different members of the council, and the deputies from the various cities and states of Flanders and Brabant, proceed in state to visit the Princess Mary; and the approbation of the crowd, often depending not a little upon the splendour of the several trains, was loudly expressed as their peculiar favourites approached the gates of the great court. At the same time it was remarkable, that though loud and vociferous in their applause, the multitude restrained all marks of disapprobation on the appearance of persons supposed to be unpopular, with wonderful and unexpected moderation.
Since the first effervescence of feeling had subsided, after the defeat of Nancy and the death of Charles the Bold, and since the apprehension of immediate revolt had gone by, the ministers of Mary of Burgundy--or, to speak more correctly, the members of the provincial council of Flanders--though spending the greater part of the day in the palace, had generally returned to inhabit their own hotels at night. Thus, almost every one but the Lord of Ravestein, who remained in the palace with his cousin, had to traverse the crowd in their way to the audience hall. Imbercourt and Hugonet, neither of whom had ever been very popular, passed amidst profound silence, and Maillotin du Bac, who, in his official dress as Prevot, was riding about the ground, took no small credit to himself for saving those two noblemen from some sort of insult. The Duke of Cleves again, was loudly cheered; but the Duke of Gueldres, who, by some means unknown even to himself, had acquired an extraordinary degree of popularity during the short time which had elapsed since his return to the city, received a degree of applause that went far beyond that which greeted the Duke of Cleves. Albert Maurice, however, as the great favourite of the people, and one whom they considered more peculiarly as their own representative, was received with loud, long-continued, and reiterated shouts. Indeed, as he rode on upon a splendid and fiery horse, dressed in magnificent apparel--not only as president of the council of Ghent and grand bailli of the city, but as holding, in the capacity of chief pensionary, the presidency of the states general of Flanders[7]--and followed by a number of guards and attendants, with his lordly air and his beautiful person, he looked more like some mighty prince going to claim his bride, than a simple merchant about to appear before his sovereign.
The visit was one of ceremony, and as no business of importance was to be transacted, the princess received her court in state; and, to see the splendour with which she was surrounded, the guards, the attendants, the kneeling subjects, no one would have supposed, as was indeed the case, that Mary of Burgundy was less a free agent than the meanest subject in her capital.
All who presented themselves before the princess were received with affability and courtesy, with the one exception of the Duke of Gueldres, from whom, as he approached the chair of state, she seemed to shrink with a repulsive abhorrence, which she could in no degree command. Although he appeared there contrary to her commands, she strove to say something kind in regard to his liberation, and to smile as he offered his thanks; but the words died away before they were uttered, and the smile faded upon her lip as soon as it appeared. To Imbercourt and Hugonet, the Lord of Vere and others, who supported the French alliance--although they had so strongly pressed her to sacrifice all her own personal feelings, and to abandon the hope of happiness for life--she still, from a deep conviction of the honesty of their intentions, and from long habits of regard, yielded the same marks of friendship and affection with which she had always distinguished the counsellors and friends of her father, however much their advice to him or to herself had been at times opposed to her own opinion, or to her dearest wishes. On Albert Maurice, too, as the boldest and strongest supporter of her own wishes against the voice of her more politic advisers, and as the leader of those who really ruled in Flanders, she smiled sweetly, from a feeling of gratitude as well as esteem; and none who beheld the young citizen in the midst of that splendid court, could help acknowledging that he was well fitted, in appearance at least, to take his place among the noblest and most courtly of the land. His mien had all the calm dignity of power and the easy grace of confident but not presuming self-possession. There was also a freshness and variety in his words and actions, which, springing from a rich and generous mind, gave a sparkling grace to the whole of his demeanour, and rendered it at once striking and pleasing. There was certainly a difference in his manners from that of the stiff and stately nobles of the court of Burgundy, but it was slight, and to his advantage, characterized by no want of grace or dignity, but rather by the calm ease of natural politeness, as opposed to the acquired formality of courtly etiquette. It seemed, not that he was assuming a rank, and mingling amidst a class to which he did not belong--but rather as if he had suddenly taken possession of a station which was his own by the indefeasible title of ennobling nature. The respect and deference also with which all the rest of the court felt themselves obliged to treat him, both from his authority over the people, and the powers of his own mind, placed him at his ease; and perhaps the very excitement which he felt under the eyes of Mary of Burgundy, and the mighty aspirations and brilliant hopes which thrilled in his bosom, were not without their share in giving firmness and dignity to the step with which he trod the ducal halls of the house of Burgundy.
Thus passed by the morning; and everything proceeded in undisturbed harmony and tranquillity, both within the Cours du Prince and without its walls. The populace showed themselves calm and placable; and it had seldom happened of late that so many nobles and statesmen, of different opinions and different interests, had met within the gates of that palace with so little jarring and contention. Nevertheless, there were things observed by many of the keen eyes which always hang about courts and watch the flickering signs of the times, that boded events not quite so pacific and gentle as the first aspect of affairs might augur. Between Albert Maurice and the Lord of Imbercourt no words passed; but, when their glances encountered upon more than one occasion, the lordly brow of the young citizen became overcast, and a fire blazed up in his eye, which spoke no very cordial feeling towards that nobleman. Imbercourt himself, whose demeanour through life had always been characterized by calm gravity, not absolutely approaching sadness, but still far removed from cheerfulness, had, since the death of his master, shown himself more gloomy and reserved than he had ever before appeared; and, on the present occasion, there was a deep immovable sternness in his countenance, which had something in it more profound than can be expressed by the word melancholy. He met the fiery glance of the young citizen, however, calm and unchanged. His eyelid never fell, his brow contracted not a line, his lip remained unmoved. Not a trace of emotion of any kind passed over his face, as he endured rather than returned the gaze of the young citizen; and, after remaining a few minutes in the princess's presence, he took his leave, mounted his horse, and rode homewards. But as he passed by Maillotin du Bac, and addressed some common observation to that officer, there was a sort of triumphant sneer on the hard countenance of the Prevot, and an unnatural degree of courtesy in his manner, from which, those who saw it inferred no very favourable anticipations in his mind regarding the Lord of Imbercourt.
When the whole ceremony was over, and Mary of Burgundy was left alone with Alice of Imbercourt, and a few of her other attendants, her heart seemed lightened of a load, and a smile brightened her countenance for the first time since her father's death.
"Thank God, Alice," she said, "that it is over. I was very anxious about the passing by of this morning, for I feared much that some angry clashing might have taken place, concerning the messengers despatched to the cruel King of France. But you are sad, Alice," she continued, seeing the fair face of her gay friend overcast with unusual clouds, which probably had arisen from the increased gloom she had observed upon the countenance of her father; "you are sad, Alice;--you, whose gay and happy spirit seems formed by heaven to bear up against everything."
"I know not well how it is, your Grace," replied Alice, with a sigh; "nothing particular has happened to make me so; and yet, I own, my heart feels more gloomy than it generally does on such a sunshiny day."
"Nay, Alice," replied the princess, "you must be sad, indeed, to call Mary of Burgundy 'your Grace,' when from our earliest years we have grown up together as sisters more than friends. But be not gloomy, dear Alice; all will, I trust, go well. There is not that evil, in all this sorrowful world, which could shake my trust in an over-ruling Providence, or make me doubt that the end will yet be good."
"But sorrows must sometimes happen," replied Alice; "and in that book--which I wish I had never looked into--in the cabinet at Hannut, I saw that some time soon you were to lose two faithful friends: I wonder if I shall be one."
"Heaven forbid, dear Alice!" replied the princess. "However, I am sorry that you have told me;" and she fell into a deep and somewhat painful reverie, from which she only roused herself, to propose that they should go to the apartments of the Dowager Duchess, Margaret, who inhabited the other wing of the building.
Alice willingly followed; and Margaret--though, in her grief and widowhood, she had taken no part in the ceremonies of the day--received her fair visitors with gladness, and inquired with some anxiety how the morning and its events had passed away. Her mind was of that firm and equable, though gentle tone, which feels every misfortune intensely, but bears it with unshaken resolution; and it is a quality of such minds to communicate a part of their own tranquil and enduring power to others with whom they are brought in contact. Thus Mary of Burgundy always felt more calm and more resigned after conversing long with Margaret of York than before; and if, in the present instance, her design in visiting her stepmother was to obtain some such support, she was not disappointed. Both herself and Alice of Imbercourt returned from the apartments of the Duchess less gloomy than when they went; and the vague omens which had given rise to their melancholy were dropped and forgotten, especially as nothing occurred during the rest of the morning to recall them to the mind of either the princess or her fair attendant. The day went by in peace and tranquillity. The multitudes dispersed and retired to their own homes. The brief sunshine of a winter's day soon lapsed into the dark, cold night; and a thick white fog, rolling densely up from the many rivers and canals that intersect the town of Ghent, rendered all the streets doubly obscure. Several of the hours of darkness also went by in tranquillity: though the glare of many torches, lighting various groups of persons, through the dim and vapoury atmosphere, and casting round them a red and misty halo of circumscribed light, together with the shouting voices of people who had lost their way, and the equally loud replies of those who strove to set them right, broke occasionally upon the still quiet of the streets of Ghent, during the course of the evening. All this, too, passed away, and the hour approached for resigning the body and the mind to that mysterious state of unconscious apathy, which seems given to show that we can die, as far as sentient being goes, and yet live again, after a brief pause of mental extinction. Mary of Burgundy, whose days--if ever the days of mortal being did so--should have passed in peace, was about to retire to rest, thanking Heaven that one more scene in life's long tragedy was over. Her fair hair was cast over her shoulders, in soft and silky waves, and she was thinking--with the natural comment of sorrow upon human life--"how sweet a thing is repose!" Although she had assumed in public the state of a sovereign princess, in private she had hitherto dispensed with that burdensome etiquette, which renders the domestic hours of princes little less tedious than their public ceremonies. Her ladies were all dismissed to rest before she herself retired to her own apartment, and two tiring women of inferior rank were all that remained to aid her in the toilet of the night. Those women, whose whole intellects were limited in their range to the thoughts of dress and ornament, contented themselves with performing their several offices about the person of the princess, and leaving her mind to reflection. Thus, perhaps, the hour which she spent each night in her own chamber, ere she lay down to rest, was one of the sweetest portions of time to Mary of Burgundy. It was the hour in which her heart, relieved from all the pressure of the day, could commune with itself at ease; and, could one have looked into her bosom on that at any other night, the whole course of her life gives reason to believe, that it would have displayed as fine and pure a tissue of sweet and noble ideas, as ever the thoughts of woman wove. Her toilet for the night, however, had proceeded but a short way, on the present occasion, when the door of the chamber was thrown open with unceremonious haste, and Alice of Imbercourt, pale, agitated, trembling, with her own brown hair streaming over her shoulders like that of the princess, showing how sudden had been the news that so affected her, rushed into the apartment, and, casting herself upon her knees before Mary, hid her eyes upon the lap of the princess, and wept so bitterly as to deprive herself of utterance.
"What is the matter, my dear Alice? What is the matter, my sweet girl?" demanded Mary, anxiously. "Speak, speak, dear Alice! what has happened so to affect you?"
"Oh, madam, madam!" sobbed Alice; "my father--my dear father!"
"What of him?" exclaimed Mary, turning deadly pale. "What has happened to him, Alice? tell me, I beseech you!"
"Oh, madam, they have arrested him and the Lord of Hugonet!" replied Alice, "and have dragged them from their beds, loaded with chains, to the town-prison!"
"Good God!" cried Mary, clasping her hands; "will they deprive me of all my friends? Has not the gold of Louis tempted all feeble hearts from my service, and will my own subjects take from me the only ones who have been found firm?"
"They will kill them: be sure they will kill them!" exclaimed Alice. "There is only one person on the earth can save them; and, alas! I fear these butchers of Ghent will be too quick in their murder for him to come."
"Who do you mean, dear girl?" asked Mary. "Who is there you think can aid them? What do you propose? Let us lose no time; but take any way to save their lives. Some one," she added, turning to her tiring women, "go to my mother, the Duchess; tell her I would fain speak with her. Now, Alice, what way do you propose?"
"Oh, let me go!" cried Alice, wildly, "let me go! Let me lose not a moment of time! I will easily find him out, or send on messengers--or bring him by some way! Let me go, I beg--I entreat!"
"But of whom do you speak?" again demanded Mary. "You forget, dear Alice, I know not what you mean."
"I mean!" replied Alice, while a slight blush passed rapidly over her countenance, and was immediately again succeeded by the eager and terrified paleness which had before appeared there: "I mean--I mean the Vert Gallant of Hannut. 'Tis scarce three days ago, that, by a letter from Hannut, Hugh de Mortmar bade me seek aid and assistance from him, if any thing happened, in the tumults of this city, to cause me danger or distress. He said that the Vert Gallant owed him much. Let me go, madam, I beseech you."
"But you cannot go alone, dear Alice," said the princess, gazing upon her almost as much bewildered as she was herself; "you cannot go alone, and at this hour of the night. At all events, you must have a party of the guards."
"Oh, no, no!" cried Alice; "they will only let one person go through the gates at a time; and there are men here set to watch the river, so that no large boat can pass."
At this moment the Dowager Duchess of Burgundy entered the chamber of her step-daughter; and Mary was beginning to explain the circumstances, as far as she had been able to gather them from her terrified companion, when she found that Margaret was already acquainted with many more particulars concerning the arrest of Imbercourt and Hugonet than herself. So daring an act on the part of the turbulent men of Ghent, as the arrest of two members of the supreme council of Flanders, of course terrified and shocked both Mary and her step-mother. But their personal apprehensions for the future, and consideration of the long series of calamities and horrors which such a deed portended, were overpowered by the wild agony of the daughter of one of those victims of popular sedition. The tears poured over her cheeks, her fair hands clasped in convulsive agony, till the taper fingers seemed as if they would have broken; and still she besought the princess, with wild eagerness, to permit her instant departure in search of him on whose assistance she seemed to place her only hope of delivering her father. Mary called upon her stepmother to second her arguments, for the purpose of persuading Alice to secure some protection and assistance, at least in her attempt to escape from the town, and in the difficult search she proposed to undertake for one, whose character was so doubtful, and whose dwelling was so uncertain. But Margaret, animated by a bolder spirit, saw the proposal in a different light, and supported strongly the desire of Alice, to seek the assistance she hoped for, accompanied alone by the page.
"Great things," she said, "have been done by less men than this adventurer seems to be. Many a battle between York and Lancaster has been won by the aid of foresters and outlaws. If you can once secure his assistance, and he can, by any of those strange means which he has been often known to employ so successfully, introduce his bands within the town, these rebellious men of Ghent may yet be taught a lesson which they have much need to learn. Go, then, my poor girl, if you have any probable means of discovering the abode of him you seek. Take the page with you; furnish yourself with all the money and jewels which you can collect. The princess and I will do our best to contribute, for with such men gold is better than eloquence; and, at all events, you will have the satisfaction of doing your duty towards your father."
"In the meantime, Alice," added Mary, "be not more anxious than necessary for your father's safety. These men will, doubtless, never attempt anything against his life without bringing him to trial. All the preparations must take long, and I will leave no means unused to delay their proceedings, and to mitigate their rancour. I will send for the president; I will speak with him myself. I will entreat, I will beseech, I will rather lay down my own life than that they should hurt my faithful servants."
"Thank you; thank you, dear lady!" replied Alice, kissing her hand; "thank you, thank you for your comfort! But I must go," she added, with eager anxiety; "I must not lose a moment."
"Stay, stay!" said the young Duchess, seeing her about to depart. "Let Bertha call the page whom we employed before, and we will determine on some better plans than your own unassisted fancy can frame."
It would be unnecessary here to enter into the minute details of all that ensued; and, indeed, so rapidly were the arrangements concluded, that many words would only serve to give a false impression of things that were resolved and executed in a few brief moments. Suffice it, then, that the page was soon brought to the presence of the princess; and, in eager and hasty consultation, it was determined that he should proceed in search of a small skiff, which, being brought opposite to the palace wall, on the water side, would enable Alice to make her escape with less chance of observation than if she attempted to pass the gates either on horseback or on foot, at that hour of the night.
No large boat would be allowed to proceed, and therefore he was directed to seek the smallest that he could possibly find; but, at the same time, to use all his shrewdness in endeavouring to discover some boatman, who was either trustworthy by native honesty, or might be rendered secret by a bribe. The boy at once declared in reply, that he well knew a man who used to bring the duke's venison up from the woods, and whose taciturnity was so great, that those who knew him averred, he had never said ten words to anybody yet in life, nor ever would say ten words more.
In search of this very desirable person the page instantly proceeded; but, either from the darkness of the night, or from having found it difficult to wake the boatman out of his first sleep, the boy was so long in returning, that all Alice's preparations for her journey were completed, and many minutes spent in agonizing anxiety, ere he re-appeared. When he did come, however, he brought the glad tidings that all was ready; and, after taking leave of the princess, Alice of Imbercourt, with a rapid but silent step, threaded the dark and intricate passages of the palace, passed the postern unquestioned, and finding her way with difficulty through the dim and foggy air, to the steps which led towards the water, stood at length by the side of the boat. Stepping forward over some unsteady planks, she was speedily seated in the stern, with the boy beside her; the single boatman, whom they had found waiting, pushed silently away from the bank, and, in a minute after, the skiff was making its slow way through the fog, down the dull current of the Scheldt.