CHAPTER XXXIV. Ah, noble prince! how oft have I behelde And with thy mistresse sleve tied on thy helme, FERREX AND PORREX. No description could faithfully depict the rage of Montpensier when her brother returned to his palace, and acquainted her with the untoward conclusion of the meeting of the States. Although the Protector, with circumstantial minuteness, detailed the proceedings of the assembly, and explained the obvious impossibility of forcing the States to act in violation of the laws on which hung their very existence- -that it was worse than useless for the deputies to attempt passing an enactment after the assembly had been prorogued, and their existence consequently in abeyance till the ensuing Saturday-still Madame Montpensier, could not believe otherwise, than that her brother had committed another fatal error of courtesy or mistaken honour. She awaited with impatience the arrival of the Archbishop of Lyons, who came with the Count De Brissac, an influential Leaguer, and several others of equal note, to condole with the Duke on his disappointment, and to take counsel together, and agree on a course of action which might prevent a repetition of the same disaster. To the Archbishop, who was known to be a man of uncompromising temper, and not likely to excuse the Duke for any lapse of action, she listened with attention, and fortunately for the domestic peace of the Protector, became at length convinced that he had at least carried his policy as far as his friends judged prudent. "Father," exclaimed she, "I would have held the monkish king in the chair! did I not receive from the mouths of as many as four-fifths of the deputies, their promise to adopt any measure which might come either from yourself or my brother? And for men, who account themselves the wisest and strongest in France to submit to such a creature as the thing which yet holds in its hands the sceptre of the kingdom!" When a woman like Montpensier, of violent temper, lofty ambition, and implacable hatred, meddles in political affairs, she cannot reconcile to her own daring policy the caution and apparent pusillanimity of conduct which characterize the proceedings of men even as ambitious and courageous as herself. When a page or domestic offends her, she inflicts summary vengeance-when a guest render himself obnoxious, instant banishment is his lot-no where in her own natural sphere does she meet with let or hindrance to the accomplishment of her desires. But it is otherwise with statesmen and political chiefs, who, in aiming a blow at the influence or existence of their rivals, have to study their own reputation together with a cautious approach to, and passage through, the moral defences which surround their victim. "Wait, daughter, but four days longer," said the churchman, laying his fingers on her arm, "and we will escort you in triumph to the Chateau De Blois! Your brother, through the power of the Church, and the good-will of pious Catholics, is King of Paris already. Though he marches not as quickly as a woman's thoughts, yet he never loses the grasp of what he has once seized. Neither does his ally, the Church, move after the fashion of a crab, though many foolish men attempt to say, that the sprinkling of hellish doctrines which has of late fallen on Christendom, will deprive the Church of much of her vitality, While the poisonous weed is nurtured humbly it is unnoticed, but when it makes head against its neighbourAh! you laugh, daughter!-you understand me. I do assure you, Madame, that I am much pleased with the success of the heretic, Navarre-his pretensions will not droop till the friends of the Church do, in their indignation, exterminate the Calvinists root and branch from out of the soil of France. Happy am I, that the cunning Queen-mother had courage to invite her Huguenot friends. There has just arrrived another at the chateau—the much talked of Baron De Nevailles-and wondrous to relate-he is discovered to be none other than Villa Franca, the lost minion of the royal descendant of apothecaries! See, daughter, what disasters befall our enemies! to place, forsooth, her confidence in an enemy unwittingly." "My brother almost died of laughter at the relation of Madame De Sauves, who reported to him the arrival of the young man," said Montpensier, smiling.-"Poor Catherine! I wish I had been present when they met, though she wanted not the presence of an enemy to add to her mortification. It had been the custom of Guise and the principal Leaguers, for some time previous to the assembly of the States, to attend daily at the King's council-chamber, that they might confer with his secretaries and advisers, or if his Majesty were so disposed, with himself. No good had resulted from these conferences, neither was it intended by the Protector, that any other effect should attend them, than a continuance of his reputation for moderation and desire of healing the wounds of the state. Notwithstanding the angry termination of the meeting of the States, the subsequent morning saw the Duke, as usual, attended by a train of gentlemen, repair to the chateau to hear fresh proposals, and to utter replies, as little likely to bring about peace as their precursors of the former week. Wednesday morning witnessed the same duplicity; and the conference on Thursday was attended with but little variation, save that at the foot of the grand staircase in the chateau, the Duke was solicited by a captain of his Majesty's guard and a number of the soldiers, to interest himself for the men, who, owing to the wretched state of the royal finances, were in great distress, on account of their families, having received no pay for many months; and as the captain declared, Monseigneur having great weight with his Majesty and the council, a word from him would do much for men who had often attended his footsteps, and obeyed his commands in happier times. Guise, being aware of the truth of what they averred, promised to recommend their case to the council above. On his return from the council, Montpensier in great alarm related a report which had been mysteriously circulating in the city; and which, if true, indicated a hostile attempt on his life by the agents of the king. From whence the report had originated, or by whom set afloat, was equally unknown: but the noxious whisper had spread from mouth to mouth, till it had created an atmosphere of alarm and suspicion. The Dutchess conjured her brother to stay away from the council on the morrow, as his visit to the chateau was the only opportunity open to his enemies to attack him with advantage. Guise, who was neither influenced by fear, nor above the exercise of prudential caution, replied, that he would be guided by his friends, who were to meet on the morrow, being Friday morning, and repair with him in great show and state to the Palace to attend, for the last time, the morning conference. "My own opinion, and you know, Catherine," said he smiling, "that I am not foolhardy, is, that the whisper is set afloat by the Court, as its last chance, in order to drive me from Blois-or to prevent me attending the States. If the intent were true, your namesake would have taken excellent care to prevent her resolve from travelling about the city as widely as an ordinary matter of scandal." On entering his chamber, he beheld a sealed letter lying for his perusal; it was to the same purport as the report which his sister had recounted; and it concluded by warning him to take especial care of his life, as Valois meditated depriving him of it. "He durst not," exclaimed the Duke, writing these words on the letter and replacing it on the table, for the observation of those who had deposited it there; that they might become aware of the discredit he attached to the communication. The next morning brought with it a crowd of friends anxious to embody themselves among the train which daily accompanied him to the Palace. To the most confidential of these, he spoke of the hostile rumour which had got abroad, and asked their opinions concerning it. The Count De Brissac advised him to refrain from trusting himself in the power of his enemies; the preacher Lincestre followed on the same side; but the Archbishop laughed at the affair as a device of the enemy. During the discussion, the Duke De Mayenne, brother of Guise and Montpensier, and a soldier of great promise recently returned from Italy, equalled only in military reputation by his statesmanlike sagacity and penetration, entered the saloon where the Leaguers were assembled. Upon being questioned as to the degree of credit which ought to be attached to the suspicious whisper, he, without previous communication with the Archbishop, spoke to nearly the same effect as the prelate : "Have you not constantly perceived," said he "the balancing, cautious policy of Catherine? Do we not know for a certainty, as far indeed as a human being's heart can be known, that the Queen-mother is bitterly inimical-I would even say, conscientiously inimical to the Huguenots, and only favours them that they may hang on France as a counterpoise to our power? Has she taken one decided step either on one side or other, since the death of our friend Charles? Has it not been her constant aim to cajole the Huguenots-to allow us to grin at them through our barred iron-and behold! when lance is in rest, and spur in horse's flank--out steps the gentle lady of the Louvre, and places herself between us and our holy revenge? Is this the woman to bring down on her head the severest indignation, and the most deadly revenge which the nation would exact, were its Protector and favourite violently cut off? For certain, the rumour flew from the Palace; and a pretty ruse de guerre it is. Will my brother Henry mount horse for Paris, and leave the wily lady to triumph to-morrow on the steps of the dais-or will he go with us to the council-chamber, and put our lady in despair of a new stratagem?", "In God's name, we will go to council, brother," exclaimed Guise with a firm voice. The cortege had scarcely departed an hour, ere Montpensier, who had been present at the discussion, and was, if not convinced, at least silenced by the arguments of her brother and the Archbishop, was informed, that a peasant desired to speak to her on private business; but that he would not communicate what he was in quest of to others. "Then let him enter,” said the masculine Princess, who feared neither peasant or prince. The Dutchess saw enter a tall thin wild-looking being with a grin on his wrinkled countenance, which, however, she could not interpret either into pleasure, fear, or surprise. 66 Your name, bon homme, if you have one?" said Montpensier, on beholding the peasant looking about like one bewildered. "Is the Duke here--may I not speak to such a great Prince?" exclaimed the peasant, seemingly inclined to treat the Dutchess with as little attention as if she were a serving-woman. The page who followed him into the chamber, explained to the Dutchess that he had told the man that Monseigneur had left the hotel-that he had in his possession a letter for the Duke, but would not give it up; but which he thought, |