"Certainly, your Eminence," replied Edward. "But I must make three conditions, though to you. They are very slight ones."

"Ha!" said Richelieu, his brow somewhat darkening. "I am not accustomed to conditions. But let me hear what they are. You are an original, like most of your countrymen. Perhaps I shall be able to grant them."

"Simply these three, my lord cardinal:--That while I am gone you shall cause search to be made for my young wife, who is not in Venice, has been brought to France, and is beyond doubt, I think, in the hands of Madame de Chevreuse."

"Granted," said Richelieu. "The next."

"That you shall send over a physician to good old Clement Tournon, whom I have left ill at Ners."

"Ah!" said Richelieu. "Is he at Ners? That is most lucky. That man Morini said truly. Fortune goes with you. He may help me to raise the money, so that there may be no delay; for you must know, Master Langdale, that even kings and prime ministers, when they carry on expensive wars, sometimes come to the end of their finances at the very moment when large sums are most necessary. Clement Tournon: he is connected with all the goldsmiths of Nismes, is he not?"

"I heard him say on the journey that he had a number of friends there, and also in Avignon," replied Edward.

"It will do," said Richelieu. "Your second condition is granted. What is the third?"

"That your Eminence lends me a fresh horse, for my own is knocked up. I could wish also that I had some servant with me,--some one who knows the way."

"The horse you shall have," said Richelieu; "but as for the servant," he continued, thoughtfully, "I think you must go alone. I do not wish to send any Frenchman to that camp. Nay, more: n.o.body must know where you are going. Look at this map. This is the road." And he pointed with his finger to a map of the Cevennes. "First you go there,--to St.

Martin,--then on to Mas Dieu. There you must inquire where the duke is encamped. I think it is somewhere near St. Andeal; but you will soon learn."

He ceased, and fell into a fit of thought; and, after waiting two or three minutes, Edward inquired, "And what am I to say to him? or will your Eminence write?"

"No, I will negotiate no more," answered Richelieu. "Say to him I have received his message; and I answer, 'One hundred thousand crowns in money, in four days, on the conditions expressed before;' and I wish his answer, Yes or No, before mid-day to-morrow."

"One horse will not carry me there and back--if it be forty miles--in that time over those mountains," said Edward.

"Pshaw! Kill the horse and buy another!" exclaimed Richelieu. "It is worth ten horses for me to have the news to-morrow. Stay; you must have some credence."

Thus saying, he went into the other room again, was absent a few minutes, and returned with a small packet and a sheet of paper. Both were addressed to the Duc de Rohan, and on the latter was written, "Hear and believe the bearer, Edward Langdale, to you already known;" and then followed the great scrawl of "Richelieu." The packet was sealed; but, as the cardinal gave it to his young friend, he said, "That contains the terms which he must sign and return by your hand. Go down and get yourself some breakfast in the eating-hall while the horse is getting ready. You will find good wine here. But remember: silence!"

Edward went down, and soon procured refreshment; but, ere he had eaten more than a few mouthfuls or drank more than one draught of wine, one of the secretaries whom he had seen above came in, with a very reverential bow, saying, "His Eminence desires me to ask if Monsieur de Langdale requires any money for his journey."

"No," replied Edward: "I have enough."

The horse was announced as ready the moment after, and Edward, springing on his back, set out before the secretary lost sight of him.

CHAPTER L.

The ride was long and hot, for it was just the middle of the month of June; and though the scenery is perhaps without its parallel in the whole world, combining more beauties and more varieties of beauty than ever I saw anywhere else, though every now and then the road was shaded with trees attaining a height and breadth which would shame the forest-giants, yet toward evening Edward was forced to acknowledge to himself that he was very much exhausted. The horse which bore him was excellent, strong, willing, but not easy in its gait; and it also, ere they reached St. Andeal, showed the effects of the heat, though it had not had the preceding journey from Ners to Alais. At St. Audral he had but little difficulty in extracting from the towns-people an account of the position of the Duc de Rohan's camp, and Edward rode on under the shade of the mountains somewhat more slowly, calculating that he would have time both to take some rest and return to Alais before noon on the following day.

It was dark when he arrived; and all that he could discover of the position of the camp was that it was very strong, while a number of mountain-gorges radiating from a centre offered the means of retreat in almost any direction. After some difficulties and delays at the outposts, he gave up his horse to one of the soldiers, who regarded him with a somewhat gloomy look, and was led to a little, rudely-constructed hut, where a sentry kept guard before the door. He found the Duc de Rohan perfectly alone; and, advancing to meet him, he was received in a much more courteous and friendly manner than at their last interview.

"Monsieur Langdale," said the duke, holding out his hand, "I am glad to see you. Pray, be seated. I can only offer you a stool in this place, for we are obliged to fare hardly here. What brings you now I know not; but I am glad of an opportunity of apologizing for some rudeness and heat which I displayed at our last meeting. By your bearing the cardinal's safe-conduct, I presume you come from him. What have you to say?"

"First let me hand you this," said Edward, giving him the letter of credence, over which the duke ran his eye hastily. "And next," said Edward, "that, in answer to your message, his Eminence says, 'One hundred thousand crowns, to be paid in four days, in money.'"

"Is that all he said?" said De Rohan. "Are you to act as negotiator in this business, sir?"

"Not in the least," replied Edward. "I merely bear you a message, and am perfectly ignorant of the whole circ.u.mstances, even of the contents of this package,--though I have been told that it contains the conditions, which, if you a.s.sent to them, you will sign, and enable me to return them to the cardinal by noon to-morrow."

The duke took the packet, broke open the seal, and looked at the writing, which was very brief, consisting only of three paragraphs.

There was a second paper, however, apparently briefer still. As he read, de Rohan knit his brows and bit his lip.

"Am I to understand that you know nothing of these papers?" he asked.

"Nothing whatever," replied Edward; and the duke, rising from his stool, walked up and down the hut for some minutes in deep thought.

"It must be done," he said, at length. "There is no use taking counsel in the matter, for it is what they all wish. And thus ends the Protestant cause in France! Monsieur Langdale, the only part of these papers which is personal to myself is that." And he laid the second enclosure before the young Englishman. "Why the cardinal has made this a condition all along I cannot conceive, unless it be a point of pride with him."

Edward read the paper, and perceived these words:--"I do hereby solemnly consent to and affirm the marriage of my cousin Lucette Marie de Mirepoix du Valais with Edward Langdale, of Buckley, in the county of Huntingdon, England, as solemnized at Nantes, on the 3d of July, in the year of grace 1627."

"I do a.s.sure you, my lord," said Edward, "this is none of my doing; and, sooner than be any impediment to a peace so necessary to the poor Protestants of France, I say, tear it. I will win Lucette by other means."

"No," said the duke: "I will sign it; I will sign all. And when a Rohan pledges his word the cardinal may be a.s.sured that it will be kept."

He took a little ink-horn from a neighboring table and signed the two papers; then, shaking Edward by the hand again, he said, "Give you joy, cousin! But you look ill and tired."

"I have ridden some sixty miles," said Edward, "with hardly any food, and no rest."

The duke heard his reply with a rueful smile, but called a man from without, telling him to bring the best he had for a young gentleman's supper. The best was merely a bone of ham and some brown bread; but there was added a flagon of very good wine.

"I require a little rest more than any thing," said Edward; "and I would fain, my lord, lie down to sleep for a few minutes, if your people will take care of my horse and wake me at four o'clock when they change the sentries."

"That shall be done," said Rohan. "No chance of sleep for me to-night after signing these papers. Here; you can sleep on my bed. It is as good as any in the camp, I suppose." And, opening a door in the boarded part.i.tion, he pointed to a great pile of rosemary and wild mountain-herbs, saying, "It is a little better than the ground; but fatigue gives balm to sleep."

Edward's eyes were closed in a moment, and he knew nothing more till the duke himself called him at four. "Your horse is at the door," he said.

"There are the papers. I hope his Eminence will be punctual in the payment; for I cannot turn ten thousand men loose amongst the mountains with no money in their pockets. Let the man who has brought the horse walk by your side and give the pa.s.swords."

Edward rode away well pleased with his success, and about half-past eleven reached the small town of Alais. There he was informed that the cardinal had not returned from Ners, but that Monsieur Rossignol would see him; and, on being admitted to the well-known secretary, an order to deliver the papers which he brought, signed by Richelieu, was given him.

Edward obeyed; and good Monsieur Rossignol, a man of great talent, though originally a peasant, said, in a significant tone, "It will be better for monsieur to ride out to the castle at Bourillaut, near Ners, where he will find the cardinal."

"My good sir, I am tired to death, and my horse can hardly move a leg.

You forget what these mountain-roads are like."

"You can rest below for three or four hours," said the secretary. "Get some refreshment,--by which time your own horse will have had rest sufficient,--and then ride to Bourillaut in the cool of the evening. It will be better. His Eminence desired it."

The thought that perhaps Richelieu might have obtained, through his many-eyed communications, some news of Lucette gave Edward fresh spirit; but still he followed the secretary's advice, for, after having ridden so hard for many days, some more repose was absolutely needful. Toward four o'clock, however, he set out toward Ners, having ascertained that the chateau to which he was directed lay on the right of the road some two or three miles before he reached the village; and all that need be said of his journey is that the road, as every one knows, is beautiful, and that his thoughts were like all young men's thoughts,--a little wild and chaotic, perhaps, but with Lucette prominent above all. Some two miles before the castle appeared in sight, however, he was met by a large cavalcade of gentlemen, ladies, guards, and pack-mules, with Richelieu at its head, going back apparently to Alais. The cardinal drew up his horse, saying, "I have heard of you, my young friend. Rossignol has sent me a messenger. Our good friend the syndic is well and gone to Nismes, but will be back in two days. Go on to the chateau, where I have ordered every thing to be prepared for you. There rest in peace for the night. You will find n.o.body there to plague you, unless it be a few women, who, if they are wise, will let you alone."

The cardinal moved on as he spoke; and Edward was fain to pursue his way to Bourillaut. He found some servants on the drawbridge, loitering about in the fine summer sunset; but as soon as his name was given the omnipotent commands of the cardinal made them all activity and attention. His horse was taken to the stable by one man; another ushered him into a handsome room, communicating with a bedroom beyond; and a third ran to bring the supper which he said his Eminence had ordered for him. All around had a very comfortable aspect; and Edward thought, as he threw himself into a chair, "A man with a wife whom he loved, and some little ones to cheer him, might pa.s.s his life very happily even here."

The supper was soon brought, and was evidently the handiwork of some courtly cook; the wine was delicate and good; and Edward, according to the English fashion of all times, chose to take the moderate portion he did take after his meal. Telling the man who waited on him to leave him, he was about to pa.s.s the evening quietly, when, soon after the servant had quitted the room, the door was opened and some one looked in. One glance at the figure showed Edward that it was the lady with whom he had ridden some way from Montargis; and, to say the truth, the young Englishman would willingly have been spared her company. She still wore the black velvet _loup_ over her face, which Edward thought was somewhat too coquettish, considering that it was now dark and the candles lighted; but of course he found himself bound to be polite, though he was determined to be as cold as ice. Yet there was something timid and hesitating in her manner that surprised him. As she came forward he could see that she trembled, and, rising, he placed a chair for her, saying, "To what am I indebted for this honor?"

"I have come to pa.s.s the evening with you," she said, in a low voice: "I cannot let you be here all alone."