XII. THE CHATEAU DE LALLIÈRES
Notwithstanding what Tansannes had asserted, Bourbon had not quitted the Château d’Herment, but had remained in his chamber while his followers rode away. The only persons taken into his confidence besides the châtelain, were Pomperant and Tansannes, the former of whom remained to attend his lord and aid his escape, while the latter undertook to personate him. The Constable was loth to separate from his devoted followers, but D’Herment convinced him that if he retained so numerous a suite he would inevitably be tracked and captured. In this opinion Tansannes and Pomperant concurred, and at last Bourbon yielded to their arguments. It was also thought advisable, for greater security, that the Constable should disguise himself as a serving-man, and for this purpose a doublet and hose of russet serge were procured for him. A short mantle of knitted worsted, with a hood attached to it, enabled him partially to conceal his features.
All being arranged, after an early meal D’Herment rode forth from his castle, with the ostensible purpose of trying some newly-manned hawks, He was accompanied by his sister and Pomperant, and the trio were followed by Bourbon, disguised as before mentioned, and by a couple of falconers, each having a hawk upon his wrist.
After more than an hour’s ride among the mountains, they came to a lake formed by the damming up of a river by a tremendous stream of lava which had flowed from the side of a lofty volcanic mountain.
The lake was of some extent, and its borders were in places fringed by trees, while the shallower parts were full of reeds, bulrushes, and aquatic plants. Marcelline now took a hawk from one of the falconers, and a heron shortly afterwards rising from the reeds, she quickly unhooded the hawk, and cast it off. On perceiving its danger, the heron flew swiftly upwards, followed with equal swiftness by the hawk, and to such a height did they soar, that they looked like specks, and eventually almost vanished from sight. When they reappeared, the hawk was uppermost, and soon stooped upon her prey, and ere another minute the heron fell dead within a few yards of Marcelline.
A bittern was next roused, but the party were prevented from continuing the sport by the appearance of a troop of horsemen coming from the direction of the chateau. No doubt could be entertained that this troop, which consisted of a dozen men and a captain, were in pursuit of the Constable. There was no time for deliberation, but Marcelline was equal to the emergency.
“Ride on with the prince,” she said to her brother. “Let the Seigneur Pomperant go with me. They will take him for the Constable. We can make our way across the mountains to the Château de Lallières. If you can baffle pursuit, you will find us there.”
To this bold proposition D’Herment at once agreed, and the courageous damsel, calling upon Pomperant to follow her, dashed up the rugged side of the mountain. At the same moment, D’Herment, followed by Bourbon and the falconers, galloped off along a road which skirted the banks of the lake.
The movements of the parties were of course descried by Captain Florae, the leader of the troop. As had been foreseen by Marcelline, he mistook Pomperaût for Bourbon, and started in pursuit with a couple of men, despatching the rest of the troop after the other fugitives, While mounting the hill, Marcelline and her companion remained in sight of their pursuers, but soon after gaining the summit they were lost to view.
On reaching the same point, Florae found that they were descending a precipitous road into the valley on the opposite side of the mountain, and, notwithstanding the danger of the course, he unhesitatingly followed with his men, and reached the valley in safety.
The chase continued for more than a league along a narrow defile, when all at once Marcelline and her companion stopped, and, on seeing this, Florae pressed on more vigorously than ever.
The stoppage of the fugitives had been caused by the appearance of a body of armed men riding towards them from the farther end of the defile. Uncertain whether these were friends or foes, but fearing they might prove the latter, Pomperant hesitated to proceed, halting for a brief space to consider what course lie should pursue.
Marcelline proposed to take refuge in the fastnesses of the mountains, and undertook to guide him to a secure retreat, and, without waiting for his reply, forced her horse up a steep acclivity. Pomperant followed, but, ere he had climbed half the ascent, Florae and his men came up, and two shots were fired, one of which struck Pomperant’s horse, and the wounded animal, after a plunge and a struggle, rolled down the precipice, dragging his rider with him.
Pomperant, though much bruised, tried to disengage himself, but, ere he could do so, Florae had dismounted, and holding him down, presented a poniard at his throat.
“I arrest your highness in the king’s name,” cried Florae. “You are my prisoner.”
“Why do you address me by that title?” demanded Pomperant. “For whom do you take me?”
“For Charles de Bourbon, Constable of France, a rebel and a traitor to the king,” rejoined Florae. “Fortune has, indeed, favoured me. I shall obtain the ten thousand gold crowns offered by his majesty for your highness’s capture.”
“You will obtain no reward for my capture,” said Pomperant. “I am not Bourbon.”
“This denial will not avail with me, prince,” rejoined Florae. “I know you too well. Yield yourself my prisoner, or – ”
“Never!” exclaimed Pomperant, seizing his antagonist’s wrist, and preventing him from using the poniard.
A desperate struggle then ensued between them. Florae was a very powerful man, and, being uppermost, had a great advantage over Pomperant, who, moreover, could not extricate himself from his horse.
The issue of the conflict could not therefore be doubted especially as the troopers were preparing to aid their leader, when at this juncture a sharp report was heard from above. A well-directed bullet pierced Florae’s brain, and he sank an inert mass upon Pomperant’s breast.
Looking up, the troopers perceived Marcelline on the edge of a rock, with a smoking petronel in her hand.
The fate of their leader caused a momentary irresolution in the men, and this allowed Pomperant time to free himself from his dead antagonist and spring to his feet. In another moment he had possessed himself of Florae’s steed, and, charging the troopers, hewed down one of them. Panic-stricken, the other galloped off, but he did not escape. Pomperant rode after him, and being better mounted, speedily came up with him, and by a tremendous blow cleft him almost to the girdle.
The poor wretch had ridden in the direction of the troop, whom we have described as advancing along the ravine, and who were now not far from the scene of action, hoping they might succour him – but he shouted to them in vain. Had they been so minded, they could not have lent him aid, but they might have avenged him, for the victor did not attempt to fly, but tranquilly awaited their coming up. Pomperant anticipated no molestation, for he had recognised in the leader of the troop a friend – the Seigneur de Lallières.
Meanwhile, Marcelline had descended from the heights and riding up, received Pomperant’s congratulations on the courage she had displayed. While thanking her for the important service she had rendered him, he added, with a look that bespoke the depth of his gratitude, “You have saved my life. I shall never forget the debt I owe you.”
A greeting then took place between Pomperant and Lallières, and after explanations had been given by the former, Lallières ordered half a dozen of his retainers to convey the bodies of Florae and the two troopers to a monastery in the mountains, and there cause them to be interred, taking care to have masses said for their souls.
The château belonging to Lallières proved to be about three leagues off and on arriving at it, he consigned Marcelline to the care of his wife, and then taking Pomperant to his own private chamber, proceeded to anoint his bruises with a sovereign balsam, which he affirmed would speedily heal them, and which afforded the sufferer almost immediate relief. Lallières then left his guest, but presently returned with his intendant, an old and trusty servant, who brought with him a basket containing cold viands and wine. Having satisfied his hunger, Pomperant threw himself on a couch, and, being much fatigued, slept soundly for several hours, when he was awakened by the opening of the chamber-door, and by the light of a silver lamp burning on the table, beheld his host, who was accompanied by the Constable and D’Herment. Bourbon informed his follower that he and D’Herment had only just reached the château, having been compelled to take a circuitous road among the mountains, in order to elude their pursuers; and he added, that it would be necessary to depart before daybreak, as the château was certain to be visited in the morning by some of the numerous bands of armed men scouring the country.
“I am ready to set out now, for the few hours’ sound sleep I have enjoyed have completely restored me,” said Pomperant. “But your highness has been in the saddle since early morning, and must need rest.”
“I need meat and drink more than rest,” replied Bourbon. “D’Herment and I have fasted more rigorously than hermits through out the day.”
“In an hour I shall be ready,” added D’Herment. “I cannot engage to satisfy my appetite in less than that time. I never felt the pangs of hunger so keenly as now.”
“You shall have wherewithal to allay them, I promise you,” observed Lallières. “Come with me to the banqueting-hall.”
“Nay, there is plenty here,” said Bourbon, glancing at the viands left on the table by Pomperant. “Fall to without ceremony, I pray you,” he added to D’Herment. “Regard me only as your comrade, not as your prince.” They then sat down and attacked the provisions with great vigour. Seeing the havoc they were making, Lallières sought a fresh supply of meat and wine, and it was well he did so, for the appetites of his guests appeared insatiable. At length, however, they declared themselves satisfied, and arose from the table.
“I think your highness need not depart till morning,” said Lallières; “but if you are resolved to go, I will order horses for you.”
“Do so, my good friend,” replied Bourbon. “If I remain, my retreat may be cut off.”
Lallières then quitted the chamber to give the necessary orders, and Bourbon was discussing his route with the others, when their host reappeared, his looks proclaiming alarm.
“What has happened?” demanded the Constable.
“The Seigneur Perot de Warthy is at the castle gate and demands admittance in the king’s name,” replied Lallières. “He has a troop of archers with him.”
“Warthy here!” exclaimed Bourbon, turning pale. “Then there is good reason for apprehension.”
“How will your highness have me act?” said Lallières. “You have only to command. I am ready to lay down my life for you. Shall I refuse him admittance?”
“No,” replied Bourbon, after a moment’s reflection. “Escape would then be impossible. I know the man. He will post himself before the castle, and allow no one to pass forth from the gates. Admit him. You can find some place of concealment for us.”
“Easily,” replied Lallières. And touching a spring in the oak wainscoting a secret panel flew open, disclosing a narrow passage constructed within the wall. “That passage will lead you to a chamber known only to myself and my intendant, where you will be perfectly safe. I will come to you anon.”
“Enough,” replied Bourbon. And, taking up the lamp, he passed through the secret door with the others.
Lallières then summoned the intendant, and bidding him remove all evidences of the repast, descended to the outer court, and ordered the gates to be thrown open.
Warthy rode into the court-yard at the head of his troop, and dismounting, said, in a stern authoritative voice to the châtelain, “I require the keys of the castle to be delivered to me.”
“By what right do you make the demand?” rejoined Lallières.
“As the king’s representative,” replied Warthy.
The keys were then brought him by the warder, and having seen the gate locked, and placed two of his own men on guard beside it, he thrust the bunch of keys in his girdle, and returned to Lallières, by whom he was conducted to a large hall on the ground floor. The attendants kept at a respectful distance, so that what passed between them was unheard.
“Seigneur de Lallières,” said Warthy, “I have reason to believe that the arch-traitor, Charles de Bourbon, has sought shelter beneath your roof. Those who screen him share his guilt. Deliver him up, and I will save you from all ill consequences. Attempt to shield him from justice, and you will incur the severest displeasure of the king.”
“Search the castle, and if you find the prince, take him,” replied Lallières, sternly.
“Then you do not deny that he is here?” said Warthy.
“I neither deny it, nor admit it,” rejoined Lallières. “Search the castle, I say. I shall not hinder you. I have no other answer to make.”
“Your answer is insolent, seigneur, and shall be reported to the king,” said Warthy.
“Be it so,” rejoined Lallières.
Warthy called the intendant, whom he recognised by his wand, and ordered him to conduet him over the castle. The old man did not dare to refuse compliance. But though the châtelain’s private room was visited in the course of the perquisition, no discovery was made.
“Are you satisfied, sir?” inquired Lallières, as Warthy returned to the hall, after his unsuccessful search.
“I am satisfied that Bourbon is hidden somewhere in the château,” replied Warthy, “but he shall not escape me. To-morrow I will institute a more rigorous search. I understand you have some guests in the chateau. Where are they?”
“The only person now here is the Demoiselle Marcelline d’Herment,” replied Lallières. “The others are gone.”
“Who are gone?” demanded Warthy.
“Those you seek. They departed on foot.”
“At what time?” said Warthy.
“Scarce half an hour before your arrival,” returned Lallières. “I counselled them not to stay, and I am thankful they took my advice.”
“Was Bourbon one of them?” demanded Warthy.
Lallières remained silent, and Warthy repeated the question yet more authoritatively.
“I refuse to answer,” replied the châtelain. “I have said that the persons who came hither are gone. That is all I choose to tell you. Follow them, if you think proper, or remain here. You do not expect me to put you on their track.”
“You are bound to aid in capturing rebels and traitors,” rejoined Warthy. “But I will not talk longer with you now. To-morrow I shall have more to say.”
“To-morrow I will speak freely,” returned Lallières, “for then my friends will be out of your reach. Meantime, it shall not be said that I neglected the rites of hospitality. Will you sup before you retire to rest? – or shall my intendant conduct you at once to a sleeping-chamber?”
“I do not mean to retire to rest,” replied Warthy. “I shall visit the guard in person throughout the night, to assure myself that strict watch is kept. Let supper be served here.”
Lallières then withdrew. Left alone, Warthy took a few turns in the great hall, and then flung himself into a chair. While doing so, he found that the keys incommoded him, so, removing them from his girdle, he laid them upon the table.
Presently afterwards a chamberlain appeared, followed by four serving-men, charged with the materials of a plentiful repast. While serving the dishes to Warthy, who ate all that was offered him, and emptied several goblets of wine, the chamberlain remarked the keys lying on the table, and it instantly occurred to him that he might be able to secure them.
While replenishing Warthy’s goblet he threw a napkin over the keys, and immediately afterwards took it up again so cautiously that no sound was audible, and then quitted the hall, ostensibly for the purpose of fetching another flask of wine.
Warthy was too much engaged with his repast to remark what had taken place, and he was still sedulously occupied when the chamberlain returned, bringing with him another flask of wine, and also a second bunch of keys – somewhat resembling those he had carried off – and while moving about he let them drop on the floor.
“Ha! give me those keys!” cried Warthy, angrily.
And taking them from the chamberlain, who apologised for the inadvertence, he thrust them into his girdle.
Just then Lallières entered the hall, accompanied by Marcelline.
“This lady has desired me to bring her to you, sir,” said the châtelain. “She has a favour to ask of you.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Warthy, rising and bowing. “I trust it may be in my power to grant it.”
“It is merely that I may be permitted to quit the castle,” said Marcelline.
“Alone, fair lady, at this hour?” rejoined Warthy. “I have too much consideration for you to grant the request.”
“Were I to depart alone, I should have no fear,” she replied, “but I shall have three attendants with me.”
“This is a stratagem to get Bourbon out of the castle,” thought Warthy. “But I will defeat it and secure my prey at the same time. When do you desire to depart?’ he added to Marcelline.
“An hour hence,” she replied.
“Well, you have my permission. You have three attendants, you say?”
“Yes, three,” she answered. “You can see them before they quit the castle.”
“Of course I shall see them,” he returned. “They cannot depart till I am satisfied. Go fetch the warder,” he added to an attendant.
Presently the personage in question entered the hall, and Warthy told him he had granted permission to the Demoiselle d’Herment to quit the château with three attendants.
“To-night?” asked the warder.
“Ay, to-night, at any hour she pleases,” said Warthy.
The warder bowed, and retired.
“I am much beholden to you, messire,” said Marcelline.
“Nay, fair lady, I am happy to oblige you,” he returned, gallantly.
Marcelline then withdrew, accompanied by Lallières, both looking well pleased.
“I have him now,” thought Warthy, as he was left alone. “It is needless to give any further instructions to the warder. He cannot unlock the gate without coming to me,” he added, satisfying himself that the keys were safe.
He then resumed his seat and finished his repast, and when the table had been cleared by the serving-men, he reclined back in his chair, and presently fell into a doze.
While thus slumbering, he fancied he heard the trampling of horses in the court, but he did not disturb himself on that account, as he felt certain no one could get out of the castle without his aid. After he had slumbered on for nearly two hours, he was aroused by the entrance of the warder.
“I have brought the keys, monseigneur,” said the man.
“You have come for them, you mean, sirrah,” rejoined Warthy, ascertaining that the bunch of keys was hanging from his girdle.
“I mean what I say, monseigneur,” returned the warder, laying down the keys before him.
“What, then, are these?” cried Warthy, holding up the other bunch.
“Those are not the keys of the castle gate,” returned the other.
“Ha! I have been duped!” cried Warthy, the truth beginning to flash upon him. “Answer me, villain,” he roared. “You have not allowed the Demoiselle d’Herment and her attendants to depart?”
“Yes, I have. I concluded they had your lordship’s full permission,” replied the warder, trembling. “They brought the keys with them, and told me to unlock the gate. I am sorry if I have done wrong, but I fully believed they had your sanction, and so did the guard, or we should have stopped them.”
“Fool! idiot!” roared Warthy. “You have allowed the Constable de Bourbon to escape. How long have they been gone?”
“Upwards of an hour,” replied the warder.
“Time enough to allow him to get fairly off,” cried Warthy. “But I must start at once in pursuit. Order my horse instantly – instantly, d’ye hear, sirrah? – and bid twenty archers get ready to attend me. The rest will remain here.”
The warder rushed forth to obey the order, and in less than five minutes Warthy had quitted the castle with twenty men.
His last words to the guard were: “Hold this eastle for the king, till his majesty’s pleasure shall be known, and keep the Seigneur de Lallières a close prisoner.”