I have already referred to the danger with which the alliance between Henry the Third and the League menaced us,an alliance whereof the news,it was said,had blanched the King of Navarre's moustache in a single night.Notwithstanding this,the Court had never shown itself more frolicsome or more free from care than at the time of which I am speaking;even the lack of money seemed for the moment forgotten.One amusement followed another,and though,without doubt,something was doing under the surface for the wiser of his foes held our prince in particular dread when he seemed most deeply sunk in pleasure--to the outward eye St.Jean d'Angely appeared to be given over to enjoyment from one end to the other.
The stir and bustle of the Court reached me even in my garret,and contributed to make that Christmas,which fell on a Sunday,a trial almost beyond sufferance.All day long the rattle of hoofs on the pavement,and the laughter of riders bent on diversion,came up to me,making the hard stool seem harder,the bare walls more bare,and increasing a hundredfold the solitary gloom in which I sat.For as sunshine deepens the shadows which fall athwart it,and no silence is like that which follows the explosion of a mine,so sadness and poverty are never more intolerable than when hope and wealth rub elbows with them.
True,the great sermon which M.d'Amours preached in the market-house on the morning of Christmas-day cheered me,as it cheered all the more sober spirits.I was present myself,sitting in an obscure corner of the building,and heard the famous prediction,which was so soon to be fulfilled.'Sire,'said the preacher,turning to the King of Navarre,and referring,with the boldness that ever characterised that great man and noble Christian,to the attempt,then being made to exclude the prince from the succession--'Sire,what God at your birth gave you man cannot take away.A little while,a little patience,and you shall cause us to preach beyond the Loire!With you for our Joshua we shall cross the Jordan,and in the Promised Land the Church shall be set up.'
Words so brave,and so well adapted to encourage the Huguenots in the crisis through which their affairs were then passing,charmed all hearers;save indeed,those--and they were few--who,being devoted to the Vicomte de Turenne,disliked,though they could not controvert,this public acknowledgment of the King of Navarre,as the Huguenot leader.The pleasure of those present was evinced in a hundred ways,and to such an extent that even Ireturned to my chamber soothed and exalted,and found,in dreaming of the speedy triumph of the cause,some compensation for my own ill-fortune.
As the day wore on,however,and the evening brought no change,but presented to me the same dreary prospect with which morning had made me familiar,I confess without shame that my heart sank once more,particularly as I saw that I should be forced in a day or two to sell either my remaining horse or some part of my equipment as essential;a step which I could not contemplate without feelings of the utmost despair.In this state of mind Iwas adding up by the light of a solitary candle the few coins Ihad left,when I heard footsteps ascending the stairs.I made them out to be the steps of two persons,and was still lost in conjectures who they might be,when a hand knocked gently at my door.
Fearing another trick,I did not at once open,the more so there was something stealthy and insinuating in the knock.Thereupon my visitors held a whispered consultation;then they knocked again.I asked loudly who was there,but to this they did not choose to give any answer,while I,on my part,determined not to open until they did.The door was strong,and I smiled grimly at the thought that this time they would have their trouble for their pains.
To my surprise,however,they did not desist,and go away,as Iexpected,but continued to knock at intervals and whisper much between times.More than once they called me softly by name and bade me open,but as they steadily refrained from saying who they were,I sat still.Occasionally I heard them laugh,but under their breath as it were;and persuaded by this that they were bent on a frolic,I might have persisted in my silence until midnight,which was not more than two hours off,had not a slight sound,as of a rat gnawing behind the wainscot,drawn my attention to the door.Raising my candle and shading my eyes Iespied something small and bright protruding beneath it,and sprang up,thinking they were about to prise it in.To my surprise,however,I could discover,on taking the candle to the threshold,nothing more threatening than a couple of gold livres,which had been thrust through the crevice between the door and the floor.
My astonishment may be conceived.I stood for full a minute staring at the coins,the candle in my hand.Then,reflecting that the young sparks at the Court would be very unlikely to spend such a sum on a jest,I hesitated no longer,but putting down the candle,drew the bolt of the door,purposing to confer with my visitors outside.In this,however,I was disappointed,for the moment the door was open they pushed forcibly past me and,entering the room pell-mell,bade me by signs to close the door again.
I did so suspiciously,and without averting my eyes from my visitors.Great were my embarrassment and confusion,therefore,when,the door being shut,they dropped their cloaks one after the other,and I saw before me M.du Mornay and the well-known figure of the King of Navarre.
They seemed so much diverted,looking at one another and laughing,that for a moment I thought some chance resemblance deceived me,and that here were my jokers again.Hence while a man might count ten I stood staring;and the king was the first to speak.'We have made no mistake,Du Mornay,have we?'he said,casting a laughing glance at me.
'No,sire,'Du Mornay answered.'This is the Sieur de Marsac,the gentleman whom I mentioned to you.'
