Saint Bartholomew's Eve: A Tale of the Huguenot Wars, G. A. Henty [most read books txt] 📗

the wood. Men were seen running across the fields, but these they easily avoided.

"Now turn again, and make straight for La Chatre," Philip said. "We can cross the bridge, and ride through the place without danger. Those who would have interfered with us are all behind us."

As he had expected, the place was perfectly quiet. The better class of the bourgeois were all asleep, either ignorant or disapproving of the action of the mob. As soon as they were through the town, Philip checked the speed of his horse.

"Mademoiselle," he said, "I am as yet in ignorance of your name. I am the Chevalier Philip Fletcher, an English gentleman fighting for the cause of the reformed religion, under Admiral Coligny. I am on my way east, with important despatches; and I was bivouacking with my three followers in the wood, when I was attracted by the singing.

"Judging, from the words of the minister, that there was danger of an attack, I put one of my men on the watch; while I myself remained in the wood by your meeting place. Unfortunately, the sound of the last hymn you sang drowned the noise made by the party that assailed you. However, happily we were in time to save you and your servant; and our sudden appearance doubtless enabled many to escape, who would otherwise have been massacred."

The girl had burst into a fit of sobbing, as soon as the danger was over; but she had now recovered.

"My name is Claire de Valecourt, monsieur," she said. "My father is with the Admiral. He will be deeply grateful to you for saving my life."

"I have the honour of knowing the Count de Valecourt, mademoiselle; and am glad, indeed, that I have been able to be of service to his daughter. The count is one of the gentlemen who act as guardians to the Prince of Navarre, whom I have also the honour of knowing.

"And now, what are your wishes? It is not too late even now, should you desire it, for me to take you back to the chateau."

"I should be defenceless there, sir," she said. "There are but a score of men-at-arms and, though formerly a place of some strength, it could not be defended now. See, sir, it is too late already."

Philip looked round, and saw a bright light suddenly rising from the clump of trees on which the chateau stood. He gave an exclamation of anger.

"It cannot be helped," she said quietly. "It is but a small place. It was part of my mother's dower. Our estates, you know, are in Provence. My father thought I should be safer, here, than remaining there alone while he was away. We have always been on good terms with the townspeople here, and they did not interfere with those of our religion during the last war; so we thought that it would be the same now. But of late some people have been here, stirring up the townsmen; and some travelling friars preached in the marketplace, not long since, upbraiding the people with their slackness in not rooting us out altogether.

"A month ago, one of the persecuted ministers came to the chateau at night, and has been concealed there since. Seeing that there will be no minister here for some time, word was sent round secretly, to those of our religion in the town, and twice a week we have had meetings in the wood. Many of the servants of the chateau are Catholics, and of the men-at-arms, the majority are not of our faith. Therefore I used to steal out quietly with my attendant. We heard, two days ago, that a rumour of the meetings had got about; and tonight's was to have been the last of them."

"And now, mademoiselle, what are your wishes? Have you any friends with whom I could place you, until you could rejoin your father?"

"None near here, monsieur. I have always lived in the south."

"I should not have taken you for a lady of Provence," Philip said. "Your hair is fair, and you have rather the appearance of one of my own countrywomen, than of one born in the south of France."

"I am partly of northern blood," she said. "My mother was the daughter of Sir Allan Ramsay, a Scottish gentleman who took service in France, being driven from home by the feuds that prevailed there. I knew but little about her, for she died when I was a child; and my father, who loved her greatly, seldom speaks to me of her."

Philip rode for some time in silence.

"I feel that I am a terrible burden on your hands, monsieur," she said quietly, at last; "but I will do anything that you think best. If you set us down, we will try and find refuge in some peasant's hut; or we can dress ourselves as countrywomen, and try to make our way westward to La Rochelle."

"That is not to be thought of," he replied gravely. "Were it not that my despatches may not be delayed, without great danger to our cause, the matter would be of no inconvenience; but we must ride fast and far. As to leaving you to shift for yourselves, it is impossible; but if we could find a Huguenot family with whom I could place you, it would be different. But unfortunately, we are all strangers to the country."

"I can ride well," the girl said, "and if horses could be procured would, with my maid, try to reach La Rochelle; travelling by night, and hiding in the woods by day. We could carry food with us, so as not to have to enter any place to purchase it."

Philip shook his head.

"We will halt at yonder clump of trees," he said. "It is not yet midnight, and then we can talk the matter over further."

As soon as they halted, he unrolled his cloak.

"Do you, mademoiselle, and your attendant lie down here. We shall be but a short distance away, and two of us will keep watch; therefore you can sleep without fear of surprise."

"This is an unfortunate business, Pierre," he said, after the latter had fastened the horses to the trees.

"I can understand that, monsieur. I have been talking to the maid, and it seems that they have no friends in these parts."

"That is just it, Pierre. One thing is certain--they cannot ride on with us. We must journey as fast as possible, and delicate women could not support the fatigue; even were it seemly that a young lady, of good family, should be galloping all over France with a young man like myself."

"I should not trouble about that, monsieur. At ordinary times, doubtless, it would cause a scandal; but in days like these, when in all parts of France there are women and children hiding from the persecution, or fleeing for their lives, one cannot stand upon niceties. But doubtless, as you say, they would hinder our speed and add to our dangers."

"I see but two plans, Pierre. The one is that they should journey to La Rochelle, in charge of yourself and Eustace. We have now twice crossed the country without difficulty and, as there would be no need of especial speed, you could journey quietly; choosing quiet and lonely places for your halts, such as farmhouses, or groups of two or three cottages where there is a tiny inn."

"What is your other plan, sir?"

"The other plan is that you should start forward at once, so as to enter Saint Amboise early. Stable your horse at an inn; and order rooms, saying that you are expecting your master and a party, who are on their way to join the army. You might also order a meal to be cooked. Then you could enter into conversation with stablemen and others, and find out whether there are any castles in the neighbourhood held for us by Huguenot lords, or by their wives in their absence. If not, if there are any Huguenot villages. In fact, try and discover some place where we may leave the young lady in safety. You can have three hours to make your inquiry.

"At the end of that time, whether successful or not, say that you are going out to meet your master and lead him to the inn. Give the host a crown, as an earnest of your return and on account of the meal you have ordered, and then ride to meet us.

"We shall start from here at daybreak. If you succeed in hearing of some place where, as it seems, she can be bestowed in safety, we will take her there at once. If not, you and Eustace must start back with them, travelling slowly. The horses will carry double, easily enough.

"Do not forget to get a cold capon or two, some good wine, and a supply of white bread, while you are waiting in the town."

"Which horse shall I take, sir?"

"You had best take Robin. He is the faster of the two, though not quite so strong as Victor."

"I understand, monsieur, and will carry out your orders. If there be a place within twenty miles--or within forty, if lying on the right road--where the young lady can be left in safety, rely upon it I will hear of it; for there is nought I would not do, rather than turn back at the outset of our journey, while you have to journey on with only Roger, who is a stout man-at-arms enough, but would be of little use if you should find yourself in difficulties; for his head is somewhat thick, and his wits slow."

Robin had already finished his scanty ration of food and, when Pierre tightened the girths before mounting, looked round in mild surprise at finding himself called upon to start, for the second time, after he had thought that his work was done.

"You shall have a good feed at Saint Amboise," Pierre said, patting its neck; "and beyond that, there will be no occasion, I hope, for such another day's work."

After seeing Pierre start, Philip threw himself down for two hours' sleep; and then went to relieve Eustace, who was keeping watch at the edge of a clump of trees. As soon as it was broad daylight, he went across to where Claire de Valecourt was lying down by the side of her maid, with a cloak thrown over them. She sat up at once, as his step approached.

"I am afraid you have not had much sleep, mademoiselle."

"No, indeed," she said. "I have scarce closed my eyes. It will be long before I shall sleep quietly. That terrible scene of last night will be before my eyes for a long time. Do you think that the minister escaped, Monsieur Fletcher?"

"I fear that he did not. I saw him cut down, by the fellow I shot, just before he turned to ride at you."

"How many do you think escaped?"

"A score perhaps, or it may be more. Some fled at once. Others I noticed make off, as we rode forward."

"Did not one of your men ride off, last night, soon after we lay down?"

"Yes, I sent off my servant."

And he told her the mission upon which Pierre had been despatched.

"That is a good plan," she said. "I would much rather hide anywhere, than that you should go forward on your long journey with but half your little force. Does it not seem strange, monsieur, that while, but a few hours ago, I had never so much as heard your name, now I owe my life to you, and feel that I have to trust to you in everything? I am quite surprised, now I look at you--I scarce saw your face, last night; and only noticed, as I sat in front of you, that you seemed very big and strong. And as you talked of what I must do, just as if you had been my father, I have been thinking of you as a grave man, like him. Now I see you are quite young, and that you don't look grave at all."

Philip laughed.

"I am young, and not very grave, mademoiselle. I am not at all fit to be the protector of a young lady like yourself."

"There I am sure you are wronging yourself, Monsieur Fletcher. The Admiral would never have sent you so far, with important despatches, had he not full confidence that you were wise as well as brave. And you said you were a chevalier, too. My cousin Antoine looks ever so much older than you do, and he has not been knighted yet. I know young gentlemen are not made knights, unless they have done something particularly brave."

Philip smiled.

"I did not do anything particularly brave, mademoiselle; but what I did do happened to attract the Admiral's attention.

"Now, here are the remains of a cold capon, some bread, and wine. You and your attendant had better eat something, while we are saddling the horses and preparing