CHAPTER XXV
THE BEGINNING OF THE END
Gabriel did not leave the Château de Noizai, however, but determined to pass the night there. His presence would afford the Reformers a pledge of his good faith, in case they were attacked; and beyond that, he still retained some slight hope that in the morning he might prevail, if not upon Castelnau, upon some other leader who was less blindly obstinate. If La Renaudie would only come!
Castelnau left him entirely free, and seemed inclined to be rather disdainful in his avoidance of him.
Gabriel encountered him several times during the evening in the halls and corridors of the château, going hither and thither, giving orders for reconnoitring parties and the forwarding of supplies.
But not a single word was exchanged between the two youths, each as proud and as noble as the other.
During the long hours of that night of anguish the Comte de Montgommery, too restless and anxious to sleep, remained upon the ramparts, listening, meditating, and praying.
With the first glimmer of dawn, the Protestant troops began to arrive in small detached parties.
At eight o'clock they had already assembled in large numbers; and at eleven Castelnau could count all whom he expected.
But not one of the leaders was known to Gabriel. La Renaudie had sent word that he and his forces would make their way to Amboise by way of the forest of Château-Regnault.
Everything was ready for departure. Captains Mazères and Raunay, who were to lead the advance-guard, had already gone down to the terrace in front of the château to form their detachments in marching order. Castelnau was triumphant.
"Well," he remarked to Gabriel as he encountered him,—he had, in his satisfaction, forgiven the conversation of the night before,—"well, you see, Monsieur le Comte, that you were wrong; and everything is going on as well as possible!"
"Wait!" said Gabriel, shaking his head.
"Indeed, we must wait, if we are to believe you, doubter!" said Castelnau, smiling. "Not one of our people has failed to keep his engagement; they have all arrived at the time appointed, with more men than they had promised. They have all marched through their respective provinces without being disturbed, and—what is perhaps even better—without having created any disturbance. Is it not, in truth, almost too good fortune?"
The baron was interrupted by the sound of trumpets and the clangor of arms and a great noise outside; but in the intoxication of his confidence he was in no degree alarmed, and thought of nothing but some fortunate event.
"See!" said he to Gabriel; "I will engage that those are more unexpected reinforcements,—Lamothe, doubtless, and Deschamps, with the conspirators of Picardy. They were not due to arrive until to-morrow; but they must have made forced marches, the brave fellows, in order to bear their part of the conflict and share in the victory. Those are friends."
"Ah, but are they?" asked Gabriel, whose face changed color when he heard the trumpets.
"Who else can they be?" rejoined Castelnau. "Come into this gallery, Monsieur le Comte; through the embrasures we can look down upon the terrace whence the noise comes."
He drew Gabriel after him; but when they had reached the edge of the wall he uttered a loud cry, raised his arms, and stood as if turned to stone.
The confusion had been occasioned not by Protestant troops, but by a body of Royalists. The new-comers were not commanded by Lamothe, but by Jacques de Savoie, Duc de Nemours.
Under cover of the woods which surrounded the Château de Noizai, the royal troops had succeeded before they were discovered in getting within close range of the open terrace, where the advance-guard of the rebels was being drawn up in order of battle.
There was no show of resistance whatever, for the Duc de Nemours had made it his first care to seize the stacks of arms.
Mazères and Raunay had been obliged to surrender without striking a blow; and just at the moment when Castelnau looked down from the battlements, his troops, conquered without a struggle, were handing their swords to the enemy. On the spot where he had thought he should see his soldiers, he saw nought but a band of prisoners.
He could scarcely believe his eyes. For a moment he stood motionless, stupefied, bewildered, and speechless. Such an event was so entirely at variance with his thoughts that at first he found it difficult to understand it.
Gabriel, who was less surprised at this sudden blew, was no less overwhelmed.
As they stood gazing at each other, equally pale and dejected, an ensign entered hastily in search of Castelnau.
"What is the condition of affairs?" the latter asked him, recovering his voice, by force of his anxiety.
"Monsieur le Baron," the ensign replied, "they have gained possession of the drawbridge and the first gate. We only had time to close the second one; but we shall not be able to hold it, and in less than a quarter of an hour they will be in the courtyard. Shall we, nevertheless, try to resist, or send them a flag of truce? We await your orders."
"Give me but time to put on my armor, and I will come down," said Castelnau.
He hastened into one of the apartments of the château to buckle on his sword and cuirass, and Gabriel followed him.
"What do you propose to do?" he asked him, sadly.
"I know not; I know not!" replied Castelnau, excitedly; "but I can at least die."
"Alas!" sighed Gabriel; "why did you not hearken to me yesterday?"
"Yes, you were right, I can see now," returned the baron. "You anticipated what has happened; perhaps you knew of it beforehand."
"Perhaps," observed Gabriel; "and therein lies my greatest suffering. But remember, Castelnau, that life is full of strange and awful caprices of fate! Suppose that I was not at liberty to dissuade you by divulging the real reasons, which were struggling for utterance? Suppose that I had given my word of honor as a gentleman not to give you any occasion, directly or indirectly, to suspect the truth?"
"In such case you would have done quite right to say nothing," said Castelnau; "and in your place I should have done just as you did. It was I, madman, who should have understood you; I who should have known that a valiant heart like yours would not try to dissuade me from battle except for most potent reasons. But I will expiate my mistake by death."
"Then I will die with you," said Gabriel, calmly.
"You! and why?" cried Castelnau. "The one thing that you say you are absolutely compelled to do is to refrain from fighting."
"True, I shall not fight," said Gabriel; "I cannot. But life has become a grievous burden to me; the apparently two-faced part I am playing is intolerable. I shall go into the fray unarmed. I will slay no one, but will allow myself to be slain. I may be able to intercept the blow aimed at you. If I cannot wear a sword, I may still be a buckler."
"No," rejoined Castelnau, "remain here. I ought not to involve you in my destruction, nor will I do it."
"Ah, but think!" exclaimed Gabriel, earnestly; "you are about to involve in it, uselessly and hopelessly, all of our brethren who are confined in this château with you. My life is much less useful than theirs."
"Can I do otherwise for the glory of our faith than ask them to make this sacrifice?" said Castelnau. "Martyrs often bring more renown to their cause, and are more useful to it, than victors."
"Very true," replied Gabriel; "but is it not your first duty as leader to do your utmost to save the forces which have been intrusted to you; to die finally at their head, if their salvation is not to be reconciled with honor?"
"So you advise me—" said Castelnau.
"To try every peaceable means of accommodation. If you resist, you have no possible chance of escaping defeat and massacre. If you yield to necessity, they will not have the right, in my opinion, to punish the instigators of a plan that has been left unexecuted. Mere projects cannot be punished, since they can only be conjectured. By laying down your arms, you will disarm your enemies."
"I so bitterly repent not having followed your previous advice," said Castelnau, "that I prefer to follow it now; and yet I confess that I hesitate, for it is very distasteful to me to draw back."
"In order to draw back, you must first have taken a step forward," said Gabriel. "Now what is there up to this point to prove your rebellion? You do not declare yourself culpable until you actually draw your sword. Hold! My presence may even yet, thank God! be of some advantage to you. I was unable to save you yesterday, but do you wish that I should try to save you to-day?"
"What will you do?" asked Castelnau, completely unmanned.
"Nothing unworthy of you, be assured! I will go to the Duc de Nemours, who commands the royal soldiery. I will inform him that no resistance will be offered, that the gates will be opened, and you will surrender, but upon certain conditions: he must engage his ducal word that no harm shall befall you or your comrades, and that after he has escorted you to the king, in order to submit to him your grievances and requests, he will cause you to be set at liberty."
"And if he refuses?" asked Castelnau.
"If he refuses, the fault will be on his side; he will have declined a perfectly frank and honorable adjustment of the affair, and all the responsibility for the bloodshed will fall upon his head. If he refuses, Castelnau, I will return to you, to die at your side."
"Do you believe," said Castelnau, "that La Renaudie, were he placed as I am, would agree to what you propose?"
"Upon my soul! I believe that any reasonable man would agree to it."
"Go on, then!" exclaimed Castelnau; "our despair will be so much the more to be dreaded if your mission to the duke fails, as I fear it will."
"Thanks!" said Gabriel. "I have strong hopes myself that I shall succeed, and thus, with God's help, preserve all these gallant and noble lives."
He went quickly down, and caused the door leading to the courtyard to be opened; and with a flag of truce in his hand, he walked toward the Duc de Nemours, who, sitting on his horse in the midst of his troops, was awaiting the issue.
"I do not know whether Monseigneur recognizes me," said Gabriel to the duke; "but I am the Comte de Montgommery."
"Yes, Monsieur de Montgommery, I do recognize you," replied Jacques de Savoie. "Monsieur de Guise advised me that I should find you here, but said that you had his permission, and charged me to treat you as a friend."
"A precaution which may be of ill service to me with other less fortunate friends," observed Gabriel, with a sorrowful shake of the head. "However, Monseigneur, may I venture to beg a moment's conversation with you?"
"I am at your service," said Monsieur de Nemours. Castelnau, who was following distractedly all the movements of the duke and Gabriel from a grated window of the château, saw them draw aside from the rest, and converse for some moments with much animation. Then Jacques de Savoie called for writing materials, and using a drumhead for a table, wrote a few rapid lines, which he handed to Gabriel, who seemed to be profuse in his thanks.
"There must be some hope for us," thought Castelnau. Gabriel rushed headlong back into the château, and a moment later, breathless and without a word, placed the following document in Castelnau's hands:—
Monsieur de Castelnau and his companions now within the Château de Noizai having agreed upon my arrival to lay down their arms and surrender to me, I, the undersigned, Jacques de Savoie, have sworn upon my princely faith, upon my honor, and as I hope for the salvation of my soul, that they shall not be molested, but shall be set at liberty entirely unharmed, fifteen of them only, including Monsieur de Castelnau, to go with me to Amboise, to present their grievances to the king in a peaceable manner.
Given at the Château de Noizai this 16th of March, 1560.
JACQUES DE SAVOIE.
"Thanks, my friend," Castelnau said to Gabriel, after he had read the foregoing; "you have saved our lives, and our honor, which is dearer than life. On these conditions I am ready to follow Monsieur de Nemours to Amboise; for we shall not appear there as prisoners before their conqueror, but as oppressed subjects before their king. Once more I thank you."
But as he warmly clasped the hand of his preserver, Castelnau remarked that Gabriel had relapsed into his former state of melancholy.
"What troubles you now, pray?" he asked.
"I am thinking now about La Renaudie and the other Protestants who were to attack Amboise to-night," replied Gabriel. "Alas! I fear it is too late to save them; but I will at least make the attempt. La Renaudie was to advance by the forest of Château-Regnault, was he not?"
"Yes," said Castelnau, earnestly; "and there is yet time for you to find him there, and save him as you have saved us."
"At all events, I will do my best," said Gabriel. "The Duc de Nemours will leave me at liberty, I think. Adieu, then, dear friend; I go to continue, if possible, my work of conciliation. Au revoir!—at Amboise."
"Au revoir!" Castelnau replied.
As Gabriel had anticipated, the Duc de Nemours made no opposition to his leaving Noizai and its detachment of royal troops.
The zealous, devoted youth was free to urge his horse in the direction of the forest of Château-Regnault.
Castelnau and those who remained with him followed Jacques de Savoie to Amboise, trusting and tranquil.
But upon their arrival they were at once lodged in prison. There they were to remain, so they were informed, until the affray was at an end, and there was no longer any danger to be apprehended in allowing them access to the king.