CHAPTER X
A GRAND SCHEME FOR A GREAT MAN
The Duc de Guise, since he had borne the title of Lieutenant-General of the kingdom, occupied apartments in the Louvre itself. The ambitious chief of the house of Lorraine thus slept, or rather lay awake, every night in the royal dwelling of the kings of France.
What waking dreams did he have beneath that chimera-haunted roof? His dreams had taken a great stride forward since the day when he confided to Gabriel, in his tent before Civitella, his designs upon the throne of Naples. Would he be content now? Being a guest in the royal palace, would he not say to himself that before long he might well become its master? Did he not already feel vaguely the pressure of a crown about his temples? Did he not with a complacent smile contemplate the good sword which, more powerful than the magician's wand, might transform his hopes to reality?
We may imagine that even as early as this, François de Lorraine did harbor such thoughts; for consider! Did not the king himself, by calling him to his assistance in his distress, justify his wildest ambition? To intrust to him the welfare of France at such a time was to recognize him as the first captain of his age! François I. would not have been so modest! No, he would have girded on the sword of Marignan. But Henri II., although of great personal courage, lacked the will to command and the force to execute.
The Duc de Guise said all this to himself; but he also told himself that it was not enough to be able to justify his rash hopes in his own eyes, but that he must justify them in the eyes of France; that he must by glorious services and signal success purchase his right and carve out his own destiny.
The fortunate general who had had the opportunity to arrest the second invasion of Charles V. at Metz knew very well that he had not yet accomplished so much that he could venture to try for the whole. Even when at this time he had driven back to the frontier the Spanish and the English, still it was not enough. In order that France might throw herself into his hands, or allow him to take her to himself, he must not only repair her losses, but must make conquests for her.
Such were the-reflections which had preoccupied the great mind of the Duc de Guise since his return from Italy.
He was going over them again on this very day when Gabriel de Montgommery was concluding his new, apparently insane, yet sublime agreement with Henri II.
Alone in his room, François de Guise, standing at the window, was looking into the courtyard with eyes that saw not, and mechanically thrumming upon the glass with his fingers.
One of his people knocked softly at the door, and upon receiving the duke's permission to enter, announced Vicomte d'Exmès.
"Vicomte d'Exmès!" said the Duc de Guise, who had a memory like Cæsar's, and who also had the best of reasons for remembering Gabriel. "Vicomte d'Exmès! My young companion in arms of Metz and Renty and Valenza! Show him in, Thibault; show him in at once!”
The valet; bowed and left the room to introduce Gabriel.
Our hero (we surely have the right to give him that name) had not hesitated. With the instinct which illuminates the brain at critical moments, and which if it shines throughout the ordinary extent of one's life is called genius, Gabriel, on leaving the king, as if he had foreseen the secret thoughts which the Duc de Guise was fondling in his mind at that moment, betook himself at once to the apartments of the lieutenant-general.
He was perhaps the only living man who could understand and assist him.
Gabriel might well have been touched by the reception which he met with from his former commander.
The Duc de Guise went quite to the door to meet him, and folded him in his arms.
"Ah, you are here at last, my hero!" he said effusively. "Whence have you come h What has become of you since St. Quentin? Ah, how often I have thought of you and spoken of you, Gabriel!"
"Have I really kept any place in your memory, Monseigneur?"
"Pardieu! he has the assurance to ask me such a question!" cried the duke. "As if you hadn't ways of your own of making yourself remembered by people. Coligny, who is worth more alone than all the rest of the Montmorencys together, has told me (but in very ambiguous terms, for some unknown reason) a part of your exploits at St. Quentin; nevertheless, from what he did say, I should judge that he said nothing regarding the greater portion of them."
"Yet I did too little!" said Gabriel, with a sad smile.
"Ambitious boy!" said the duke.
"Indeed I am ambitious!" was Gabriel's response, with a mournful shake of the head.
"But, thank God, you have returned!" rejoined the Duc de Guise. "Once more we are together, my friend; you remember what plans we made together in Italy! Ah, poor Gabriel, France needs your valor more than ever now. To what dire extremity have they reduced our country!"
"All that I am, and all that I have," said Gabriel, "is consecrated to her support; I only await your signal, Monseigneur."
"Thanks, my friend," the duke responded; "be sure that I will avail myself of your offer, and you will not have long to wait for my signal."
"Then it will be for me to thank you, Monseigneur," cried Gabriel.
"To tell the truth, however," the duke continued, "the more I look around me, the more embarrassing and serious do I find the situation. I had to hasten at first to the point where the greatest urgency existed, to organize effective means of resistance in the neighborhood of Paris, and to present a formidable defensive front to the enemy,—to stop his progress, in short. But all that amounts to nothing. He has St. Quentin; he has the North! I ought to be at work, and I long to be. But in what direction?"
He stopped, as if to consult Gabriel. He knew the young man's breadth of view, and he had on more than one occasion found his advice worth following; but now Vicomte d'Exmès spoke not a word, carefully watching the duke, and letting him approach the subject in his own way, so to speak.
François de Lorraine thereupon continued:—
"Do not reprove me for my sloth, my dear friend. I am not one of those who hesitate, as you know; but I am of those who reflect. You will not blame me for it; for you are like me,—determined and cautious at the same time. The pensiveness of your young face," the duke added, "seems to me of a severer cast than formerly. I hardly dare to ask you about yourself. You had stern duties to perform, I remember, and formidable foes to discover. Have you other misfortunes to deplore than those of your country? I fear so; for when I last saw you, you were only serious, and now I find you sad."
"Let us not speak of myself, Monseigneur, I beg," said Gabriel. "Let us speak of France, and then we shall be speaking of my hopes."
"So be it," rejoined the duke. "I will tell you with perfect frankness my thoughts and my anxiety. It seems to me that the most essential thing at this moment is to raise the spirits of our people, and restore our former glorious reputation by some striking blow; to change our defensive attitude to an offensive one; and, finally, not to content ourselves with repairing our defeats, but to atone for them by some glorious success."
"That is precisely my opinion, Monseigneur," cried Gabriel, eagerly, surprised and delighted at a coincidence so in line with his own schemes.
"That being your opinion," resumed the Duc de Guise, "doubtless, you have thought more than once of our country's peril and of the means of extricating her from it?"
"Indeed, I have often thought of it," said Gabriel.
"Well, then," continued François de Lorraine, "have you, my friend, gone any further than I? Have you looked this serious difficulty in the face? Where, when, and how to attempt so brilliant a stroke, which we both deem so essential?"
"Monseigneur, I think I know."
"Can it be?" cried the duke. "Oh, speak, speak, my friend!"
"Mon Dieu! perhaps I have spoken too soon, after all," said Gabriel. "The proposition I have to make is one of those which will certainly require long preparation. You are very powerful, Monseigneur; but the project I have to suggest may seem impracticable even to you."
"I am not generally subject to vertigo," said the duke, smiling.
"Never mind, Monseigneur," rejoined Gabriel. "At first sight, my plan will—I fear, and I forewarn you—seem extraordinary, insensate, nay, even impossible; really, however, it is only difficult and dangerous."
"But that only makes it more attractive," said François de Lorraine.
"Well, Monseigneur, it is agreed, then, that you will not, in the first place, be horrified. I say again, there will be great risks to be run; but the means of success are in my power, and when I have unfolded them, you yourself will agree with me."
"If that be so, I beg you to speak, Gabriel," said the duke. "But who comes to interrupt us now?" he added impatiently. "Is that you knocking, Thibault?"
"Yes, Monseigneur," said the valet, entering the room. "Monseigneur ordered me to let him know when the hour for the council to assemble had arrived, and it is now striking two. Monsieur de Saint-Remy and the other gentlemen will call for Monseigneur directly."
"True, true," rejoined the duke; "there is a council-meeting to be held now, and an important one too. It is indispensable that I should be present. Very well, Thibault. Leave us; show the gentlemen in when they arrive. You see, Gabriel, that my duty calls me to the king's side. This evening you can unfold your plan to me at your leisure,—and it must be a noble one, since it comes from your brain; meanwhile I beseech you to satisfy my curiosity and my impatience in a few words. What do you mean to do, Gabriel?"
"In two words, Monseigneur, take Calais," said Gabriel, calmly.
"Take Calais!" almost shouted the Duc de Guise, falling back in surprise.
"You forget, Monseigneur," said Gabriel, with the same tranquil air, "that you promised me not to be horrified at the first impression."
"Oh, but have you considered this carefully?" said the duke. "Take Calais, defended by a strong garrison, by impregnable fortifications, and by the sea!—Calais, which has been in the power of England more than two centuries! Calais, guarded as carefully as the very key of France! I love an audacious scheme; but will this not be a rash one?"
"Yes, Monseigneur," Gabriel replied; "but it is just because it is such a rash undertaking that no one would ever dream of it or suspect it that it has a better chance of success."
"In truth, that is very possible," said the duke, thoughtfully.
"When you have listened to me, Monseigneur, you will say, 'It is certain!' The rule of conduct to be observed is clearly marked out for us in advance,—to keep it in most absolute secrecy, to throw the enemy off the scent by some false manœuvre, and to appear before the town unexpectedly. In a fortnight Calais will be ours."
"But," the duke rejoined earnestly, "these general indications are not sufficient. Your plan, Gabriel,—you have a plan?"
"Yes, Monseigneur; it is simple, but sure—"
Gabriel had not time to conclude, for at that moment the door opened and the Comte de Saint-Remy entered, attended by a number of nobles attached to the Guise party.
"His Majesty awaits the lieutenant-general of the kingdom at the council-board," said Saint-Remy.
"I am at your service, gentlemen," rejoined the duke, saluting the new-comers.
Then turning quickly to Gabriel, he said in a low voice,—
"I must leave you now, my friend, as you see; but the unspeakably magnificent scheme which you have thrown into my brain will not leave me the whole day, I promise you. If you really think such a project can be executed, I believe I am capable of understanding you. Can you return here this evening at eight? We shall have the whole night to ourselves without fear of interruption."
"I will be prompt to the hour," said Gabriel, "and I will make good use of my time meanwhile."
"I make bold to remind Monseigneur that it is now after two," said the Comte de Saint-Remy.
"I am here; I am quite ready!" the duke responded.
He took a few steps toward the door, then turned and looked at Gabriel, and approaching him once more, as if to be sure that he had understood him aright,—
"Take Calais?" he said again in a low voice, and with a sort of questioning inflection.
And Gabriel, bowing his head affirmatively, replied with his sweet, calm smile,—
"Yes, take Calais."
The Duc de Guise went to attend the council, and Gabriel followed him from the room and left the Louvre.