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"My Lord," said Ignati, "there is danger going forward, I am sure.
All the archers of the guard are at the foot of the staircase; there are many strange faces, not usually seen at the door of the council-chamber. Twice I saw a servant of the King's come and speak to Henville, and hearing you had not arrived, go round again, as if by the back staircase, to the King's apartments. I am sure, sir, there is something wrong."
The Duke smiled, but it was somewhat thoughtfully. "Thank you, my good boy," he said. "I know rumours often precede the act; but I cannot pause to consider such things now."
"Oh, sir, think!" the boy ventured to exclaim; "think how the welfare of the State and the welfare of a thousand individuals depend entirely upon your safety. What would become of me? What would become of the young Count and his bride, if----"
"Ay, well bethought," replied the Duke. "Bring me here paper and the ink-horn;" and when the boy brought them, Guise bent down over a large coffer that stood near, and wrote a few lines.
"Take that to the Count," he said, as soon as he had finished writing.
"Quick, Ignati: but, after all, these warnings are but nonsense. There is n.o.body in France dares do it. Look, I have delayed too long. Here comes a messenger from the King."
"As I find your Highness coming," said the usher, approaching the Duke, "it is needless, perhaps, to deliver the King's message: but I was directed to say to your Highness that the council waited, and that His Majesty was extremely anxious that the business of the day should go on, as he wished to proceed to Clery in time for dinner. If your Highness were not well, he said, perhaps you would not object to the council being held without you."
"You see!" said the Duke in a low voice, turning towards Ignati with a smile, "you see!" And following the usher, he walked on upon his way towards the council-chamber.
At the bottom of the staircase he found Larchant and the whole body of archers of the guard, who now pressed round him somewhat closely.
"What is it, Larchant? what is it, my good friend?" said the Duke.
"Your presence here is unusual, I think."
"We are here, your Highness," replied Larchant, "to solicit in a body your mediation with the King. You promised me yesterday, my Lord, that you would present our pet.i.tion to his Majesty, and advocate our cause in the council. These poor fellows have not received any pay for months; I might almost say years."
"I did advocate your cause, yesterday," said the Duke, "and his Majesty graciously sent an order upon the treasurer by one of the ushers."
"But the treasurer ungraciously told us, sir, that there was not a sous in his coffers," replied Larchant; and the Duke taking the paper out of his hand, began to mount the stairs, saying, "I will see to it, Larchant; I will see to it."
Larchant and the archers followed him up the steps, still pressing close upon him; and he heard a low deep voice say from the midst of them, "Look to yourself, my Lord Duke, there are bad men abroad!"
The Duke pa.s.sed on, however, without notice and entered the hall of the council, the ushers drawing back with low bows as he appeared, and throwing open the doors for him to go in. The moment after those fatal doors had closed behind him, the archers drew up across them at the head of the stairs. Larchant hurried away towards the chamber of the King, and Villequier, pa.s.sing rapidly by, said in a low voice to one of the attendants, "Go down to Monsieur de Crillon, at the Corps de Garde; tell him to shut and guard the gates, as the Duke has gone in."
Though he spoke low, he seemed little to heed who listened to the words; and they were heard by the boy Ignati, who, with the painful conviction that some great evil was about to befall the Duke, had followed him step by step to the council-chamber. The boy put his hand to his brow with a look of painful anxiety, and darted away once more towards the apartments of the Duke of Guise. The first person he met with there was Pericard, the Duke's secretary; and grasping his arm, he exclaimed, "They will murder him! they will murder him! They are closing the gates of the castle and guarding them!"
Pericard rushed to one of the windows that looked out into the court.
"Too true, indeed!" he exclaimed. "Too true, indeed! It may be yet time to save him though. Run quick, Ignati, and get one of the Duke's handkerchiefs while I write." And with a rapid hand he wrote down,--"My Lord, your death is resolved. They are barring and guarding the gates. I beseech you come out from the hall of the council to your own apartments. We can make them good against all the world, till the town rises to protect you."
Before he had done, the boy was back again with the handkerchief; and enveloping the note therein, Pericard gave it to him, exclaiming, "Fly, fly with that to the door of the council-chamber, Ignati. The ushers will let you in, surely, to give it to the Duke, if you say that he has forgotten his handkerchief."
"They have let me in before," said Ignati; "but I doubt it now. I will try and make my way at all events."
Again he flew to the top of the staircase, and, as if a matter of course, pushed up towards the door, endeavouring to force his way through the archers.
"Stand back, saucy spright," cried one of the men; "you cannot pa.s.s here."
"But I must pa.s.s," cried the boy, turning upon him with a fierce air of authority. "I am the Duke of Guise's page, and bring him his handkerchief, which he forgot. Make way, saucy archer, or I will teach you to whom you speak."
"Listen to the insolence of these Guisards," said the man. "But their day is over. Stand back, fool, or I'll knock you down with my partisan."
The boy laid his hand upon his dagger, still striving to push forward; and the man, without further words, struck him a blow over the head with the staff of his halbert, which laid him prostrate upon the ground. For a moment he seemed stunned, but then, starting up, he turned away, and went down the stairs, bursting into tears ere he reached the bottom, not with the pain of the blow he had received, but with the bitter conviction that the last effort had failed, and the fate of Guise was sealed.
In the meantime the Duke of Guise entered the council-room, carrying in his hand the pet.i.tion of the guards. Every one rose at his approach; and as the greater part of those present were personally friendly towards him, he went round and spoke to them with his usual grace and suavity, and then laying the pet.i.tion on the table, approached the fire, saying, "It is awfully cold this morning! Has not his Majesty yet appeared?"
"Not yet," replied the Cardinal de Guise, "though we expected him before, for he sent down to hasten our coming. But what is the matter with your Highness? there is blood trickling over your mustachio."
"The cold has made my nose bleed twice this morning," replied the Duke, and putting his hand in his pocket he said, "My people have been negligent; they have forgotten to give me a handkerchief. St Prix," he continued, turning his head to one of the King's valets-de-chambre, who stood on the inside of the door communicating with the King's apartments. "I wish you would send to my rooms for a handkerchief. You will find some of my people at the door."
"There are plenty, my Lord, belonging to the King," replied St. Prix, "in this little cabinet:" and crossing the hall of the council, he took one out and gave it to the Duke, who thanked him graciously, and still sitting by the fire fell into a deep fit of thought. Suddenly, however, he turned pale; his eyes a.s.sumed the same expression as they had done the night before, when he had fancied he saw a figure in the room with him, and taking a small silver bonbonniere from his pocket, he opened it, as if seeking for something that it usually contained, saying at the same time, "I feel very faint!--My people have neglected every thing," he added, "this morning."
Several members of the council gathered round him, and St. Prix, the valet, brought him from the cabinet where the handkerchief had been found, some of the dried plums of Brignolles, which were then held as a restorative. The Duke took one of them and ate it, and placed the others in the bonbonniere. After a little, his colour returned, and he said, "I am better now. How strange these attacks are, and how fortunate that one never feels them on occasions of battle or danger!"
A moment or two after, he took a turn or two up and down the room, and seemed perfectly recovered; and as he was about to resume his seat, the door of the pa.s.sage leading to the King's chamber was opened, and the Secretary of State, Revol, entered, saying, "Monseigneur, his Majesty wishes to speak a word with your Highness before the business of the council commences. You will find him in the old cabinet to the left."
Revol was as pale as death. But the Duke of Guise took not the slightest notice; and, pa.s.sing through the door, which St. Prix held open for him and closed after him, he advanced towards the chamber of the King.
On entering it he saw Laugnac seated upon the coffer at the farther end of the room; and he remarked, with an angry frown, that the King's attendant did not rise when he entered. He said nothing, however, but turned towards the door of the old cabinet, which was too low to suffer him to pa.s.s without bowing his head. He accordingly stooped for the purpose; and, raising the tapestry with his left hand, while he held his hat in the right, he pa.s.sed on.
He had scarcely taken a step into the cabinet, however, when he at once saw several men in arms standing round. At the same moment there was a sound close to him; and, springing from behind the arras, a fierce and powerful man, named St. Malines, rushed upon him.
The Duke dropped his hat, and moved his hand towards his sword; but at the same moment some one seized the hilt with both hands, and St.
Malines struck him a blow with a knife over the left shoulder, burying the weapon in his bosom.
Another and another blow succeeded from the hands of those around him: the blood rushed up into his mouth and throat; but still, with prodigious power, he seized two of those who were a.s.sailing him, and dashed them headlong to the ground, exclaiming at the same time, "Ah, traitors!"
Rus.h.i.+ng towards the door, he dragged another along with him into the chamber of the King; and seeing Laugnac still there, and marking him as the instigator of his murder, with a brow awful in the struggle of the strong spirit against the power of death, with hands clenched, and teeth set, he darted towards him.
Ere he had taken two steps, however, his brain reeled, his eyes lost their sight, and Laugnac starting up saw, by the fearful swimming of those visionless...o...b.., that the terrible deed was fully accomplished, that the life of Guise was at an end; and though the Duke still rushed forward upon him with the convulsive impulse of his last sensation, the Captain of the Quarante-cinq did not even unsheath his sword, but merely struck him a light blow with the weapon in the scabbard, and Guise fell headlong on the carpet by the King's bedside.
The sound of that deep heavy fall was enough, and Henry, coming forth from his cabinet, gazed for several minutes earnestly upon the dead man, while the dark blood rushed forth, and formed a pool round the Monarch's feet.
The countenance of every one there present, lips and cheek alike, were as white as parchment; and for two or three minutes not a word was spoken, till at length the King exclaimed, "What a height he was! He seems to me taller even dead than living!"
Then setting his foot upon the dead man's neck, he cruelly repeated the cruel words which Guise himself had used at the death of Coligny, "Venomous beast, thou shalt spit forth no more poison!"
CHAP. XIV.
From the door of the council-chamber the boy Ignati flew back to the apartments of the Duke of Guise, and the tidings which he brought spread confusion and terror through the whole of the Duke's domestics: but Ignati was of a clinging and affectionate disposition, and after the Duke, his master, his next thoughts turned to Charles of Montsoreau. To his apartments then the boy proceeded with all possible speed, having in his hand the note from the Duke of Guise, which he had almost forgotten in the agitation of the late events. He found the young n.o.bleman already dressed, and concluding with his attendants various arrangements for his approaching union with her he loved--an union, indeed, entirely dependent upon the life of him who was at that very moment falling under the blows of a.s.sa.s.sins.
With the natural hopefulness of youth and of high courage, Charles of Montsoreau, though still somewhat anxious, had nearly forgotten the apprehensions of the night before. But the terrified countenance of Ignati, and the cut upon the boy's brow from the blow he had received, showed the young Count at once that something had gone wrong; and demanding what was the matter, but without waiting for an answer, he opened the billet of the Duke of Guise, and read.
The words which he found there written were as follows:--
"I have had many warnings, Logeres, which personally, it does not become me to attend to. However, should these warnings prove to have been justly given, and you see Henry of Guise no more, take your fair bride with you at once; fly to my brother of Mayenne; be united as soon as possible, without waiting for any ceremony but the blessing of the priest; and, to the best of your power, avenge the death of him who was your friend to the last."
"Where is the Duke, Ignati?" demanded the young Count, eagerly. "Has he yet gone to the council?"
"He is gone! he is gone!" replied the boy; "and he will never return!"