real object, which, as the reader is aware, was to betray the Countess Isabelle of Croye into the hands of William de la Marck, a nobleman indeed of high birth, but degraded by his crimes into a leader of banditti, distinguished for his turbulent disposition and ferocious bravery.
The King then pulled forth a paper from his pocket, and, ere he gave it to Martivalle, said, in a tone which resembled that of an apology – 'Learned Galeotti, be not surprised, that, possessing in you an oracular treasure, superior to that lodged in the breast of any now alive, not excepting the great Nostradamus himself, I am desirous frequently to avail myself of your skill in those doubts and difficulties which beset every Prince who hath to contend with rebellion within his land, and with external enemies, both powerful and inveterate.'
'When I was honoured with your request, Sire,' said the philosopher, 'and abandoned the Court of Buda for that of Plessis, it was with the resolution to place at the command of my royal patron whatever my art had, that might be of service to him.'
'Enough, good Martivalle – I pray thee attend to the import of this question.' – He proceeded to read from the paper in his hand: – 'A person having on hand a weighty controversy, which is like to draw to debate either by law or by force of arms, is desirous, for the present, to seek accommodation by a personal interview with his antagonist. He desires to know what day will be propitious for the execution of such a purpose; also what is likely to be the success of such a negotiation, and whether his adversary will be moved to answer the confidence thus reposed in him, with gratitude and kindness, or may rather be likely to abuse the opportunity and advantage which such meeting may afford him?'
'It is an important question,' said Martivalle, when the King had done reading, 'and requires that I should set a planetary figure, and give it instant and deep consideration.'
'Let it be so, my good father in the sciences, and thou shalt know what it is to oblige a King of France. We are determined, if the constellations forbid not, – and our own humble art leads us to think that they approve our purpose, – to hazard something, even in our own person, to stop these anti-Christian wars.'
'May the Saints forward your Majesty's pious intent,' said the Astrologer, 'and guard your sacred person!'
'Thanks, learned father. – Here is something, the while, to enlarge your curious library.'
He placed under one of the volumes a small purse of gold; for, economical even in his superstitions, Louis conceived the Astrologer sufficiently bound to his service by the pensions he had assigned him, and thought himself entitled to the use of his skill at a moderate rate, even upon great exigencies.
Louis, having thus, in legal phrase, added a refreshing fee to his general retainer, turned from him to address Durward. – 'Follow me,' he said, 'my bonny Scot, as one chosen by Destiny and a Monarch to accomplish a bold adventure. All must be got ready, that thou mayst put foot in stirrup the very instant the bell of Saint Martin's tolls twelve. One minute sooner, one minute later, were to forfeit the favourable aspect of the constellations which smile on your adventure.'
Thus saying, the King left the apartment, followed by his young guardsman: and no sooner were they gone, than the Astrologer gave way to very different feelings from those which seemed to animate him during the royal presence.
'The niggardly slave!' he said, weighing the purse in his hand, – for, being a man of unbounded expense, he had almost constant occasion for money, – 'The base sordid scullion! – A coxswain's wife would give more to know that her husband had crossed the narrow seas in safety. He acquire any tincture of humane letters! – yes, when prowling foxes and yelling wolves become musicians. He read the glorious blazoning of the firmament! – ay, when sordid moles shall become lynxes. – Post tot promissa – after so many promises made, to entice me from the Court of the magnificent Matthias, where Hun and Turk, Christian and Infidel, the Czar of Muscovia and the Cham of Tartary themselves, contended to load me with gifts, – doth he think I am to abide in this old Castle, like a bulfinch in a cage, fain to sing as oft as he chooses to whistle, and all for seed and water? – Not so – aut inveniam viam, aut faciam – I will discover or contrive a remedy. The Cardinal Balue is politic and liberal – this query shall to him, and it shall be his Eminence's own fault if the stars speak not as he would have them.'
He again took the despised guerdon, and weighed it in his hand. 'It may be,' he said, 'there is some jewel, or pearl of price, concealed in this paltry case – I have heard he can be liberal even to lavishness, when it suits his caprice or interest.'
He emptied the purse, which contained neither more nor less than ten gold pieces. The indignation of the Astrologer was extreme. – 'Thinks he that for such paltry rate of hire I will practise that celestial science which I have studied with the Armenian Abbot of Istrahoff, who had not seen the sun for forty years, – with the Greek Dubravius, who is said to have raised the dead, – and have even visited the Scheik Ebn Hali in his cave in the deserts of Thebais? – No, by Heaven! – he that contemns art shall perish through his own ignorance. Ten pieces! – a pittance which I am half ashamed to offer to Toinette, to buy her new breast-laces.'
So saying, the indignant Sage nevertheless plunged the contemned pieces of gold into a large pouch which he wore at his girdle, which Toinette, and other abettors of lavish expense, generally contrived to empty fully faster than the philosopher, with all his art, could find the means of filling. [28]
CHAPTER XIV. THE JOURNEY.
I see thee yet, fair France – thou favour'd land
Of art and nature – thou art still before me;
Thy sons, to whom their labour is a sport,
So well thy grateful soil returns its tribute;
Thy sun-burnt daughters, with their laughing eyes
And glossy raven-locks. But, favour'd France,
Thou hast had many a tale of woe to tell,
In ancient times as now.
Avoiding all conversation with any one, (for such was his charge,) Quentin Durward proceeded hastily to array himself in a strong but plain cuirass, with thigh and arm-pieces, and placed on his head a good steel cap without any visor. To these was added a handsome cassock of shamois leather, finely dressed, and laced down the seams with some embroidery, such as might become a superior officer in a noble household.
These were brought to his apartment by Oliver, who, with his quiet, insinuating smile and manner, acquainted him that his uncle had been summoned to mount guard, purposely that he might make no enquiries concerning these mysterious movements.
'Your excuse will be made to your kinsman,' said Oliver, smiling again; 'and, my dearest son, when you return safe from the execution of this pleasing trust, I doubt not you will be found worthy of such promotion as will dispense with your accounting for your motions to any one, while it will place you at the head of those who must render an account of theirs to you.'
So spoke Oliver le Diable, calculating, probably, in his own mind, the great chance there was that the poor youth whose hand he squeezed affectionately as he spoke, must necessarily encounter death or captivity in the commission intrusted to his charge. He added to his fair words a small purse of gold, to defray necessary expenses on the road, as a gratuity on the King's part.
At a few minutes before twelve at midnight, Quentin, according to his directions, proceeded to the second court-yard, and paused under the Dauphin's Tower, which, as the reader knows, was assigned for the temporary residence of the Countesses of Croye. He found, at this place of rendezvous, the men and horses appointed to compose the retinue, leading two sumpter mules already loaded with baggage, and holding three palfreys for the two Countesses and a faithful waiting-woman, with a stately war-horse for himself, whose steel-plated saddle glanced in the pale moonlight. Not a word of recognition was spoken on either side. The men sat still in their saddles, as if they were motionless; and by the same imperfect light Quentin saw with pleasure that they were all armed, and held long lances in their hands. They were only three in number; but one of them whispered to
