CHAPTER XXIV
THE DISLOYALTY OF LOYALTY
Baron Castelnau de Chalosses was a gallant, noble-minded youth to whom the Protestants had assigned by no means the least difficult task when they sent him to forestall the royal troops at the Château de Noizai, which was the place appointed for the general rendezvous of the different sections of the disaffected on the 16th of March. It was essential that he should be visible to the Huguenots, but should conceal himself from the Catholics; and his delicate position called for the display of as much caution and presence of mind as courage.
Thanks to the password contained in La Renaudie's letter, Gabriel met with no hindrance in making his way to Baron de Castelnau's quarters.
It was already afternoon of the 15th.
Within eighteen hours the Protestants were to assemble at Noizai, and to attack Amboise before twenty-four hours had elapsed; so that it is clear there was no time to lose if they were to be dissuaded from their design.
Baron de Castelnau knew Comte de Montgommery well, for he had often met him at the Louvre, and besides, the chief men of the party had often spoken of him in his presence.
He came forward to meet him, and received him as a friend and an ally.
"So you have come, Monsieur de Montgommery," he remarked when they were alone. "To tell the truth, I hoped that you would be here, but hardly dared to expect you. La Renaudie was much blamed by the admiral for writing you as he did. 'It was essential,' he said, 'to advise the Comte de Montgommery of our plans, but not to summon him to join us. He might have been left to do as he chose. Has the count not given us fair warning that so long as François II. reigned, his sword did not belong to us; in fact, that it did not even belong to himself?' La Renaudie's reply to all this was that his letter bound you to nothing, but left you in possession of absolute independence of action."
"That is quite true," replied Gabriel.
"Nevertheless, we thought that you would come," continued Castelnau, "for the letter of that hot-headed baron gave you no information as to what was going on, and I am intrusted with the duty of informing you of our plan and our hopes."
"I am listening," said the Comte de Montgommery.
Castelnau then repeated to Gabriel everything that the Duc de Guise had previously told him in detail.
Gabriel saw with horror how exact Le Balafré's information was. Not one single point in the report of his spies and informers was inaccurate, nor had they omitted to apprise him of one single detail of the plot.
The conspirators were really lost beyond recall.
"Now you know everything," said Castelnau, as he brought his narration to a close, leaving his listener a prey to most cruel perplexity. "I have now only to put to you a question to which I can easily forecast your reply. I am right, am I not, in thinking that you cannot join us?"
"I cannot," replied Gabriel, sadly shaking his head.
"Very good!" added Castelnau; "we shall be none the less good friends for that. I know that you stipulated in advance for the privilege of holding aloof from the combat; and you are doubly entitled to exercise it, since we are sure of victory."
"Are you then indeed so sure?" asked Gabriel, significantly.
"Perfectly so," rejoined the baron; "for the enemy have no suspicion of our movements, and will be taken unawares. We were afraid for a moment, when the king and court transferred their quarters from the unfortified town of Blois to the strong Château d'Amboise, for they clearly had a suspicion that something was wrong."
"That embarrassed you, no doubt," observed Gabriel.
"Yes, but our hesitation soon came to an end," continued Castelnau; "for we found that this unexpected change of residence, far from injuring our prospects, on the contrary, served marvellously well to make them brighter. The Duc de Guise is now sleeping in false security; and you must know, dear Count, that we are in correspondence with some who are within the town, and the western gate will be put into our hands as soon as we present ourselves before it. Oh, success is beyond doubt, I assure you; and you may, without scruple, hold aloof from the battle."
"The most magnificent expectations are sometimes deceived by the event," was Gabriel's grave comment.
"But in this instance we have not a single chance against us,—not one!" Castelnau repeated, rubbing his hands with delight. "To-morrow will behold the triumph of our party and the fall of the Guises."
"And—how about treachery?" said Gabriel, struggling with his emotion, and with his heart torn to see such youthful gallantry rushing headlong into the abyss with eyes closed.
"Treachery is impossible," was Castelnau's imperturbable response to that suggestion. "Only the leaders are in the secret, and not one of them is capable of it. Upon my word, Monsieur de Montgommery," he exclaimed, interrupting himself, "I believe that you are jealous of us; and it seems to me as if you were trying with all your might to throw cold water on our undertaking, because of your chagrin at having no share in it. Fie, my envious friend!"
"Yes, indeed, I do envy you!" returned Gabriel, gloomily.
"There! I was sure of it," laughingly exclaimed the young baron.
"But stay a moment; you have some confidence in me, have you not?"
"Blind confidence, if we are to speak soberly."
"Very well; are you willing to listen to good advice, coming from a true friend?"
"To what purpose?"
"Abandon your design of taking Amboise to-morrow. Send trusty messengers at once to all of our brethren who are to join you here to-night or in the morning, to let them know that the plan has miscarried, or has at least been postponed."
"Why so, pray? Why?" demanded Castelnau, beginning to take alarm. "You must surely have some weighty reason for speaking thus to me."
"Mon Dieu, no!" replied Gabriel, with a constraint that cost him dear.
"It cannot be," said Castelnau, "that you advise me for no reason whatever to abandon, and cause my brethren to abandon likewise, a project which seems to progress so favorably?"
"No, there is a reason; you are quite right, but I cannot explain to you. Can you not, will you not, believe my word? I have already gone further in this matter than I should have done. Do me the honor to trust my word, dear friend."
"Consider," rejoined Castelnau, very seriously, "that if I take upon myself this extraordinary course of turning back at the last moment, I shall have to answer for it to La Renaudie and the other leaders. May I refer them to you?"
"Yes," replied Gabriel.
"Will you tell them," continued Castelnau, "the motives which dictate your advice?"
"Alas! I have not the right to do it."
"How can you expect me to yield to your representations, then? Should I not be bitterly reproached for having thus, for a single word, destroyed our hopes, which were almost certainty? Howsoever vast and well-deserved is the confidence we all have in you, Monsieur de Montgommery, still a man is but a man, and may be deceived, no matter how good his intentions. If no one is allowed to consider and pass judgment upon your reasons, we shall certainly be obliged to neglect your counsel."
"Then beware!" rejoined Gabriel, harshly; "on your head alone be the responsibility for all the calamities that may ensue!"
Castelnau was struck with the accent with which the count uttered these words.
"Monsieur de Montgommery," said he, "light has suddenly come to me, and I think I can descry the true state of affairs. You have either been intrusted with or have surmised some secret which you are not permitted to disclose. You have some important information as to the probable result of our enterprise,—that we have been betrayed, for instance. Am I not right?"
"I did not say that!" cried Gabriel, eagerly.
"Or else," continued Castelnau, "you saw your friend, the Duc de Guise, on your way here, and he, in ignorance of your fellowship with us, has given you an insight into the real state of things."
"Nothing I have said can have given rise to any such supposition!" cried Gabriel.
"Or again," Castelnau went on, "you have, as you passed through Amboise, noticed preparations being made, overheard conversations, or induced confidences,—in short, our plot is discovered!”
"Do you mean to say," said Gabriel, horror-stricken, "that I have given you any reason to believe anything of the sort?"
"No, Monsieur le Comte; no, indeed, for you were bound to secrecy, I can see. Therefore I do not even ask you for a positive assurance that I am right, not even a word, if you prefer not. But if I am mistaken, a gesture, a glance of the eye, or your silence, even, will be sufficient to enlighten me."
Gabriel, meanwhile, sorely perplexed, was recalling the last part of the obligation he had given the Duc de Guise.
Upon his honor as a gentleman he had bound himself not to allow any person to divine or even to suspect, from any word or allusion or gesture on his part, what was taking place at Amboise.
As he kept silence for a long while, the Baron de Castelnau, whose eyes were riveted upon Gabriel's face, spoke again.
"Do you mean to say nothing more?" said he. "You are silent; I understand you, and shall act accordingly."
"What do you propose to do?" asked Gabriel, hastily.
"To warn La Renaudie and the other leaders, as you advised me to do in the first place, that they must cease their preparations, and to announce to our friends when they reach here that some one in whom we have perfect confidence has made known to me—has made known to me probable treachery—"
"But there is nothing of the sort!" Gabriel hurriedly interrupted. "I have given you no information at all, Monsieur de Castelnau!"
"Count," rejoined Castelnau, seizing Gabriel's hand in a grasp that spoke louder than his words, "may not your reticence itself be a warning, and our salvation? And once put on our guard, then—"
"Well, what then?" echoed Gabriel.
"Everything will go well for us, and ill for them," said Castelnau. "We will postpone our enterprise to a more propitious time; discover at any cost the informers, if there be any among us; redouble our precautions and our mystery; and one fine day, when everything is thoroughly prepared, certain then of our aim, we will renew our attempt, and, thanks to you, will not fail, but achieve a triumphant success."
"That is precisely what I wish to avoid!" cried Gabriel, who was horrified to find himself upon the verge of involuntary betrayal of confidence. "There, Monsieur de Castelnau, is the real reason of my warning and my advice. In my mind, your enterprise is absolutely a culpable one, to say nothing of its danger. By attacking the Catholics you put yourselves entirely in the wrong, and justify any reprisals they may resort to. From being unjustly oppressed subjects, you become rebels. If you have complaints to make of the ministers, must you avenge yourselves upon our young king? Ah, I feel sad even unto death as I reflect upon all this misery! For the good of the cause you ought forever to renounce this unholy strife. Rather let your principles do battle for you! No bloodshed for the truth! That is all that I wished to say to you; that is why I conjure you and all our brethren to hold your hand from these grievous civil wars, which can only retard the spread of our principles."
"Is that really the only motive of all your talk?" asked Castelnau.
"The only one," Gabriel replied in a hollow voice.
"Then I must thank you for your good intentions, Monsieur le Comte," retorted Castelnau, coldly; "but I must no less continue to act on the lines laid down for me by the leaders of the Reformed party. I can readily conceive that it must be very painful for a gentleman like yourself, being debarred from the combat, to see others fighting without you; but you alone cannot be allowed to fetter and paralyze a whole army."
"You propose, then," said Gabriel, pale and dejected, "to allow the others to go on with this fatal design, and to go on with it yourself?"
"Yes, Monsieur le Comte," responded Castelnau, whose words had a firmness in them that admitted no argument; "and with your permission, I will now go to issue the necessary orders for to-morrow's assault."
He saluted Gabriel, and left the room without awaiting his reply.