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

imagine the consternation it excited. The king has shut himself up in his room. Navarre and Conde are in deep grief, for they both regard the Admiral almost as a father. As for the rest of us, we are furious.

"There is a report that the man who was seen galloping away from the house from which the shot was fired was that villain Maurevel, who so treacherously shot De Mouy, and was rewarded by the king for the deed. It is also said that a groom, in the livery of Guise, was holding the horse when the assassin issued out.

"Navarre and Conde have gone to Coligny. The king's surgeon is dressing his wounds."

Chapter 20: The Tocsin.

As soon as Francois had finished his account of the attempted assassination of the Admiral, he and Philip sallied out, the latter having hastily armed himself.

"I must go back to the Louvre," Francois said, "and take my place by the King of Navarre. He is going to see the king, and to demand permission to leave Paris at once. Conde and La Rochefoucault are going to see the king, as soon as they return from the Admiral's, for the same purpose; as it is evident their lives are not safe here."

Philip made his way to the Admiral's house in the Rue de Bethisy. Numbers of Huguenot gentlemen were hurrying in that direction; all, like himself, armed, and deeply moved with grief and indignation; for Coligny was regarded with a deep affection, as well as reverence, by his followers. Each, as he overtook others, eagerly inquired the news; for as yet most of them had learned nothing beyond vague rumours of the affair.

Philip's account of it increased their indignation. So it was no act of a mere fanatic, but the work of the Guises, and probably of Catharine and Anjou.

In a short time between two and three hundred gentlemen were gathered in the courtyard and antechamber of Coligny's house. Some walked up and down, silent and stern. Others gathered in groups, and passionately discussed the matter. This was an attack not only upon the Admiral but upon the Huguenots in general. It was the work of the Guises, ever the deadliest foes of the Reformed faith--the authors of every measure taken against them, the cause of all the blood that had been shed in the civil wars.

One thing was certain: all must leave Paris, and prepare for a renewal of the war. But it was equally certain they could not leave until the Admiral was fit to be moved.

"Truly he is a saint," said one of the gentlemen, who had come down from the room where Coligny was lying. "He suffered atrociously in the hands of the surgeon, for he had come without his instruments, and amputated Coligny's fingers with a dagger so blunt that it was only on the third attempt that he succeeded. Merlin, his minister, was by his side, with several of his most intimate friends. We were in tears at the sight of our noble chief thus traitorously struck down. He turned to us and said calmly:

"'My friends, why do you weep? As for me, I deem myself happy at having thus received wounds for the sake of God.'

"Then he said that, most sincerely, he forgave the man who wounded him, and those who had instigated him to make the attack; knowing for certain that it was beyond their power to hurt him for, even should they kill him, death would be a certain passage to life."

An hour later Francois arrived.

"The prince has seen the king, Philip. He is furious, and has sworn that he will inflict the most signal punishment upon the authors and instigators of the crime: Coligny had received the wound, but he himself most felt the smart. The King of Navarre told me he was sure that Charles was deeply in earnest. He feels it in a threefold sense: first, because it is the renewal of the troubles that he had hoped had been put an end to; in the second place, because Coligny is his guest; and lastly, because he has the greatest respect and confidence in him, not only believing in his wisdom, but knowing that his counsel is always sincere and disinterested.

"He is coming to visit the Admiral himself, this afternoon, Philip. It is no use our staying here. There is nothing to be done, and no prospect of seeing the Admiral."

As they moved towards the entrance to the courtyard, the Count de Valecourt joined them.

"I have just left the Admiral," he said. "He is easier, and the king's surgeon is of opinion that he will recover from his wounds, and possibly may be fit to travel in a litter, in another week."

"That is good news, indeed," Francois said; "for the sooner we are all out of Paris, the better."

"There is no doubt of that," the count agreed; "but as all say that the king is furious at this attack upon the Admiral, I do not think the Guises dare strike another blow for some time. Still, I shall be glad, indeed, when we can set forth.

"It is certain we cannot leave the Admiral here. The villains who are responsible for the attempt will be furious at its failure, and next time they may use the weapon to which they are most accustomed--poison. Even if the king himself begged him to stay at the Louvre, until cured, Catharine de Medici is there; and I would not trust him under the same roof with her, for all my estates.

"We have been talking it over, and all agree that we must wait until he can be moved. Inconstant as Charles is, there can be no fear of a change in his friendly intentions now. He has already closed all the gates of Paris save two, and everyone who goes in or out is closely questioned, and has to show his papers."

By this time, they had arrived at the door of the count's dwelling.

"Come in, monsieur," he said. "My daughter is terribly upset at this attack upon the Admiral, for whom she has a profound reverence and, were she a Catholic, would, I doubt not, make him her patron saint."

"How is he, father?" Claire asked eagerly, as they entered the room.

"He is better, Claire. The king's physician thinks he has every chance of recovering."

"God be praised!" she said earnestly. "It would indeed have been a terrible day for us all, had the assassin taken his life; and it would have seemed a mark of Heaven's anger at this marriage of the Protestant king with a Catholic princess. What says King Charles?"

"He is as angry as any of us; and declares that the assassin, and those who abetted him, shall be punished in the severest manner. He has visited the Admiral, and expressed his grief and indignation to him."

"I shall be glad to be back in Dauphiny, father. This city, with its wickedness and its violence, is hateful to me."

"We shall go soon, dear. The doctor hopes that, in a week, the Admiral will be well enough to be moved in a litter; and we shall all accompany him."

"A week is a long time, father. So much may happen in a week."

"There is no fear of anything happening, Claire. You must not let this sad business affect your nerves. The anger of the king is so great that you may be sure none will attempt to repeat this stroke.

"What think you, Monsieur de Laville?"

"I agree with you altogether, count."

"And you, Monsieur Philip?"

"I see no cause for fear, count; and yet, I feel sure that it would be well to take every precaution. I acknowledge that I have no grounds whatever for my fear. I have been infected by my lackey, who is generally the lightest hearted and most reckless fellow; but who has now turned croaker, and fears a sudden rising of the mob of Paris, instigated thereto by the Guises."

"Has he heard anything to favour such an idea, or is it merely born of today's outrage?"

"No, I think he has heard nothing specific, though he may have caught up vague threats in wandering through the streets."

"Why, that is not like you," the count said, smiling, "who have been through so many fights and dangerous adventures, to be alarmed at a shadow."

"No, count, I do not think that I am given, any more than is my lackey, to sombre thoughts; but I own that he has infected me, and I would that some precautions could be taken."

"Precautions of what kind, Monsieur Philip?"

"I have not thought them out," Philip said; "but, were I the next in rank to the Admiral, I would enjoin that a third of our number should be under arms, night and day, and should at night patrol our quarters; secondly, that a rallying place should be appointed, say at the Admiral's, to which all should mount and ride, directly an alarm is given."

"The first part could hardly be managed, here," the count said gravely. "It would seem that we doubted the royal assurances of good faith, and his promises of protection. We have enemies enough about the king's ear, and such a proceeding would be surely misrepresented to him. You know how wayward are his moods, and that it would need but a slight thing to excite his irritation, and undo all the good that the Admiral has effected."

Two or three other Huguenot gentlemen now entered, and a general conversation on the state of affairs took place. Philip was standing a little apart from the others, when Claire came up to him.

"You really believe in danger, Monsieur Philip?"

"Frankly I do, mademoiselle. The population hate us. There have been Huguenot massacres over and over again in Paris. The Guises are doubtless the instigators of this attack on the Admiral. They are the idols of the Paris mob and, if they gave the word, it would at once rise against us. As I told your father, I have no real reason for uneasiness, but nevertheless I am uneasy."

"Then the danger must be real," the girl said simply. "Have you any advice to give me?"

"Only this. You have but a week to stay here in Paris. During that time, make excuses so as not to stir abroad in the streets more than you can help; and in the second place I would say, lie down in your clothes at night, so as to be in readiness to rise, instantly."

"I will do that," she said. "There is nothing else?"

"Nothing that I can think of. I hope and trust that the emergency will not come; but at any rate, until it does come, we can do no more."

A few minutes later, Philip and his cousin took their leave. The former went back to his lodgings, the latter to the Louvre. Philip was surprised at not finding Pierre, and sat up later than usual, expecting his return; but it was not till he was rising next morning that the man made his appearance.

"Why, where have you been all night?" Philip asked angrily. "This is not the time for pleasure."

"I have been outside the walls, master," Pierre said.

"What in the world did you go there for, Pierre?"

"Well, sir, I was here when Monsieur de Laville brought in the news of the shooting of the Admiral. This seemed, to me, to bear out all that I have said to you. You hurried away without my having time to speak to you, so I took it upon myself to act."

"In what way, Pierre?"

"I went straight to the stables, sir, and took one of your honour's chargers and my horse and, riding one and leading the other, passed out through the gate before the orders came about closing. I rode them to a village, six miles away; and put them up at a small inn there, and left them in the landlord's charge. I did not forget to tell the stable boy that he should have a crown for himself if, on my return, I found the horses in as good condition as I left them.

"Then I walked back to Paris, and found a crowd of people unable to enter, and learned that the gates had been closed by the king's order. I went off to Saint Denis, and there bought a long rope and an iron hook; and at two in the morning, when I thought that any sentries there might be on the walls would be drowsy, came back again to Paris, threw up my hook, and climbed into one of the bastions near the hut we had marked. There I slept until the morning, and now you see me.

"I have taken out the horses so that, should you be obliged to fly, there would be means of escape. One charger will suffice for your wants here, and to ride away upon if you go out with the Huguenot company, whether peacefully or by force of arms.