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Agnes Sorel

<h4>CHAPTER XVI.</h4> Two servants, one an elderly, grave, and silent personage, with the air of knowing much and saying little, which is the proper characteristic of experienced serving-men; the other a sharp, acute young varleton, with eyes full of meaning and fun, which seemed to read a running commentary upon all he heard and saw, waited upon the guests at supper. With simple good sense Jean Charost took things as he found them, without inquiring into matters which did not immediately affect himself. Whatever rank and station he might mentally assign to his entertainer, he merely treated him according to the station he had assigned himself, with perfect politeness and respect, but with none of the subservient civility of a courtier. Madame De Giac, upon her part, taking the hint which had been sent to her, at once cast off all restraint more completely than Jean Charost thought quite becoming, especially in the presence of her young companion. But she noticed him personally with a gay smile and a nod of the head, and he saw that she spoke in a whisper afterward with her entertainer. The young girl greeted him kindly, likewise, and the meal passed in gay and lively talk, not unseasoned with a fully sufficient quantity of wine. Now the wine of Gatinois has effects very like itself, of a light, sparkling, exhilarating kind, producing not easily any thing like drunkenness, but elevating gently and brightly, even in small portions. The effect is soon over, it is true; but the consequences are not so unpleasant as those of beverages of a more heady quality, and the high spirits generated are like the sparkling bubble on the cup, soon gone, leaving nothing but a tranquil calm behind them. "How is our friend, Louis of Valois?" asked Madame De Giac, with a gay laugh, when the meal was nearly ended. "He was in unusual high spirits when we met you and him, Monsieur De Charost, at the Abbey of Juvisy." "His spirits, madame, were like the cream upon your glass," replied Jean Charost; "too sparkling to last long. He has been very ill since." "Ha!" said their entertainer, with a sudden start. "Ill! Has he been ill? Is he better?" "I trust he is, sir," answered Jean Charost, somewhat dryly. "Better in some respects he certainly is." There was a something--perhaps we might call it an instinct--which led the young gentleman to believe that tidings of the duke's illness would not be altogether disagreeable to the personage who sat opposite to him, and to say truth, he was unwilling to gratify him by any detailed account. The other seemed, however, not to interest himself very deeply in the matter; that topic was soon dropped; and Madame De Giac and the stranger continued talking together in an under tone, sometimes laughing gayly, sometimes conversing earnestly, but seeming almost to forget, in the freedom of their demeanor toward each other, the presence of the two younger people, who, made up the party of four. Between Jean Charost and his fair companion the conversation, strange to say, was much graver than between their elders. It too, however, was carried on in a low tone, and, in fact, the party was thus completely divided into two for some time. "I wish I were out of this companionship," said the fair Agnes, at length; "Madame De Giac is far too wise a woman for me. Experience of the world, I suppose, must come, but I would fain have it come piece by piece, and not wholesale." "Do you think it so evil a thing, then?" asked Jean Charost. "I do not know," answered the girl; "and we are often afraid of what we do not know. Did you ever plunge into a stream or a lake, and stand hesitating for a minute on the bank, wishing you could tell how cold the water would be? Well, it is so with me, standing on the brink of the world into which I am destined to plunge. I am quite sure the waters thereof will not be as warm as my own heart; but I would know how cold they are--enough merely to refresh, or enough to chill me." We need not pursue the conversation on these themes further. The meal concluded, and the table was cleared. The entertainer said something in a low tone to his fair companion, and she answered with a coquettish air, "Not yet--not yet. Find something to amuse us for another hour. Have you no fool--no jongleur--no minstrel--nothing to wile away the time?" "Faith, I came badly provided," replied the other, "not knowing what happy fortune was prepared for me on the road. But I will see--I will see what can be done. The people will bring in comfits, surely, and I will ask what the town can afford." A few minutes after, the servants returned, as he expected, with some dried fruits, and wine of a higher quality, and the stranger asked a question or two in a whisper, to which the other replied in the same tone. "An astrologer!" rejoined the first; "an astrologer! That will do admirably. We will all have our fortunes told. Go for him quietly, and mind, betray no secrets. I hope every one here, as in duty bound, has the hour, and day, and minute of his birth by heart. Your godfathers and godmothers have failed sadly if they have neglected this essential point of information. For my own part, I have had my horoscope so often drawn, that if all the misfortunes befall me which have been prognosticated, I shall need to live to the age of Methuselah to get them all into one life, to say nothing of being killed five different times in five different manners." Every one smiled, but none felt convinced that the speaker doubted the truth of the predictions at which he scoffed; for it was a habit in those times, as well as in most others, for men to pretend want of belief in that which they believe most firmly, and a trust in judicial astrology was almost as essential a point of faith as a reliance in any of the blessed Virgins which were then scattered through the various towns of Europe. No one denied that he was furnished with all the dates for having his destiny accurately read by the stars, and only one person present showed any reluctance to hear the words of destiny from the lips of the astrologer. Strange to say, that one was the gay, bold, dashing Madame De Giac, who seemed actually fearful of learning the secrets of the future. In all hollow hearts there are dark recesses, the treasured things of which are watched over with miserly fear, lest any eye should see them and drag them to the light. She objected, in a sportive tone, indeed, but with a wandering and timid look, sometimes pettishly declaring that she positively would not consent to have all the misfortunes of life displayed before her ere their time, and sometimes laughingly asserting that her noble lord hated astrologers, and that, therefore, she was bound to have nothing to do with them. The conduct of their entertainer, however, puzzled and surprised Jean Charost more than her reluctance. They were evidently friends of old date--perhaps something more; and during the whole evening he had been paying her every soft and tender attention with a gallantry somewhat too open and barefaced. Now, however, he first laughed and jested with her, insisting, in gay and lively tones, but with his eyes fixed upon her keenly, and almost sternly, and then ceased all tone of entreaty, and used very unlover-like words of command. A reddish spot came into his cheek too, and a dark frown upon his brow; and his last words were, as some steps sounded along the passage, "You must, and you shall," uttered in a low, hoarse voice, which seemed to come from the very depth of his chest. The next instant, the attendant entered with a man dressed in a very peculiar manner. He was small, mean-looking, aged, and miserably thin, with a beard as white as snow, but eyebrows as black as ink. All the features were pinched and attenuated, and the shriveled skin pale and cadaverous; but the face was lighted up by a pair of quick, sharp, intensely black eyes, that ran like lightning over every object, and seemed to gain intelligence from all they saw. He wore a black gown, open in front, but tied round the middle by a silver cord. His feet were bare and sandaled, and on his head he had a wide black cap, from the right side of which fell a sort of scarf crossing the right shoulder, and passing under the girdle on the left hip. A small dagger in a silver sheath, a triangle, and a circle of the same metal, and an instrument consisting of a tube with a glass at either end--the germ of the future telescope--hung in loops from his belt, and with a large wallet, or escarcelle, completed his equipment. On entering the room, the astrologer saluted no one, and moved not his bonnet from his head, but advanced calmly into the midst of the little circle with an air which gave dignity even to his small and insignificant figure, and, looking round from face to face, said, in a sweet but very piercing voice, "Here I am. What do you want with me?" There was very little reverence in his tone, and Jean Charost's companion of the way replied, with an air of some haughtiness, "Sir wise man, you do not know us, or you would wait to hear our pleasure. You shall learn what we want with you very speedily, however." "Pardon, your highness," replied the astrologer; "I know you all. But your men might show more reverence to science, and not drag me, like a culprit, from my studies, even at the command of John, duke of Burgundy." "Ah! the fools have been prating," said the duke, with a laugh; but the astrologer answered quickly, "The stars have been prating, your highness, though your men have held their peace. Before you set foot in this town, I knew and told many persons that you would be here this day; that you would meet with an accident by the way, and be saved from it by the servant of an enemy. Ask, and satisfy yourself. There are people in this very house who heard me." "The servant of an enemy!" repeated the Duke of Burgundy, thoughtfully, and rolling his eyes with a sort of suspicious glance toward Jean Charost. "The servant of an enemy! But never mind that; we have eaten salt together." "I said not an enemy, but the servant of an enemy," rejoined the astrologer. "You and he best know whether I am right or not." "I think not," replied Jean Charost. "The Duke of Orleans has given his hand to his highness of Burgundy, and he is not a man to play false with any one." "Well spoken, good youth," answered the duke. "I believe you from my heart;" but still there was a frown upon his brow, and, as if to conceal what he felt, he turned again to the astrologer, bidding him commence his prediction. "My lord the duke," replied the astrologer, "the hour and moment of your nativity are well known to me; but it is very useless repeating to you what others have told you before. Some little variation I might make by more or less accurate observation of the stars; but the variation could but be small, and why should I repeat to you unpleasant truths. You will triumph over most of your enemies and over many of your friends. You will be the arbiter of the fortunes of France, and affect the fate of England. You will make a great name, rather than a good one; and you will die a bloody death." "That matters not," replied the duke. "Every brave man would rather fall on the field of battle than die lingering in a sick-chamber, like a hound in his kennel." "I said not on the field of battle," answered the astrologer. "That I will not undertake to say, and from the signs I do not think it." "Well, well, it skills not," answered the duke, impatiently. "It is enough that I shall survive my enemies." "Not all of them," said the astrologer; "not all of them." The duke waved his hand for him to stop; and, pointing to Madame De Giac, exclaimed, with a somewhat rude and discourteous laugh, "Here, tell this lady her destiny. She is frightened out of her wits at the thought of hearing it; but, by the Lord, I wish to hear it myself, for she has a strange art of linking the fate of other people to her own." "She has, indeed," replied the astrologer. "Methinks when she was born," said the duke, laughing, "Venus must have been in the house of Mars." "Your highness does not understand the science," said the astrologer, dryly. "Madame, might I ask the date of your nativity?" In a faltering tone, Madame De Giac gave him the particulars he required, and he then took some written tables from his wallet, and examined them attentively. "It is a fortunate destiny," he said, "to be loved by many--to retain their love--to succeed in most undertakings. Madame, be satisfied, and ask no more." "Oh, I ask nothing," replied Madame De Giac. "'Twas but to please the duke." "But I must ask something," said the duke; and, drawing the astrologer somewhat aside, he whispered a question in his ear, while Madame De Giac's bright eyes fixed upon them eagerly. To whatever was the duke's question, the astrologer replied, aloud, "As much as she possibly can," and the fair lady sank back in her chair with a look of relief, though the answer might possibly bear several meanings. The duke's face was more cheerful, however, when he turned round; and, pointing to Madame De Giac's young companion, he said, "Come, let us have some happy prediction in her favor." The astrologer gazed at her with a look of some interest, and so earnestly that the color rose in her cheek, and a certain fluttering grace of expression passed over her countenance, which made it look, for the first time, to the eyes of Jean Charost quite beautiful, foreshadowing what she was afterward to become. She made no hesitation, however, in telling the day, hour, and minute of her birth, and the astrologer consulted his tables again; but still paused in silence for a moment or two, though the Duke of Burgundy exclaimed more than once, "Speak--speak!" "My science is either wrong," the astrologer said, at length, "or thine is, indeed, an extraordinary destiny. Till nineteen years have passed over thy head, all is quiet and peaceful. Then come some influences, not malign, but threatening. Some evil will befall thee which would be ruinous to others; but thy star triumphs still, and rises out of the clouds of the seventh house in conjunction with Mars, also in the ascendant. From that hour, too, the destiny of France is united with thine own. Mighty monarchs and great warriors shall bow before thee. Queens shall seek thy counsel, and even those thou hast wronged shall cling to thee for aid and for support." "Oh, no--no," exclaimed Agnes, stretching forth her beautiful hands, with a look and attitude of exquisite grace. "I will wrong no one. Tell me not that I will wrong any one; it is not in my nature--can it be my destiny?" "One wrong," replied the astrologer, "repaired by many a noble act. But I see more still. France shall have cause to bless thee. A comet--a fiery comet--shoots forth across the sky, portending evil; but thy star rules it, and the evil falls upon the enemies of France. The comet disappears in fire, and thy star still shines out in the ascendant, bright, and calm, and triumphant to the end. But the end comes too soon--alas! too soon." "So be it," said the young girl, in a tranquil tone. "Life, I think, must be feeling. I would not outlive one joy, one power, one hope. So be it, I say. Death is not what I fear, but wrong. Oh, I will never commit a wrong." "Then, pretty maid, you will be more than mortal," said the Duke of Burgundy; "for we all of us do wrong sometimes, and often are obliged to do so that great good may spring out of small evil." Agnes was silent, and the astrologer turned to Jean Charost, who readily told him all he desired to know; for such was the general faith in judicial astrology at that time in France, that no man was left ignorant by his parents of the precise hour and minute of his birth, in order that the stars might be at any time consulted, in case of need. The astrologer smiled kindly on him, but John of Burgundy asked, impatiently, "What say you, man of the stars, is this youth's fate any way connected with mine?" "It is, prince," replied the astrologer. "It has been once; it shall be again. I find it written that he shall save you from some danger; that he shall suffer for your acts; that he shall be faithful to all who trust him; that he shall be present at your death; and try, but try in vain, to save you." "Good!" said the duke, in a musing tone. "Good!" And then he added, in a lower voice, as if speaking to himself, "I will let him go, then." The words reached Jean Charost's ears, and, for the first time, he comprehended that he had run some risk that night. Although somewhat inexperienced in the world, he was well aware that the caprices of princes, and of the favored of the earth, are not easy to be calculated; and he would have given a great deal to be out of that room, notwithstanding the pleasant evening he had spent therein. To show any thing like alarm or haste, however, he knew well might frustrate his own purpose; and, affecting as much ease as possible, he conversed with his young companion and the astrologer, while the Duke of Burgundy spoke a word or two in the usual low tone to Madame De Giac. What the treacherous woman suggested might be difficult to tell exactly, but only a few moments had elapsed when the elder attendant, who had before appeared, re-entered the room, saying, "This young gentleman's lackey is importunate to see him, and will take no denial." Jean Charost instantly rose, saying, "It is time, then, that I should humbly take my leave, your highness. I knew not that it was so late." "Nay, stay a while," said the Duke of Burgundy, with a very doubtful smile. "This bright lady tells me that you are an intimate of my fair cousin the Duke of Orleans, and that it is probable you go upon some occasion of his. Good faith! you must tell me before you depart whither you go, and for what purpose." "Your highness will, I am sure, demand neither," replied Jean Charost. "Hospitality is a princely quality, but has its laws; and gratitude for small services well becomes the Duke of Burgundy far too much for him either to detain or to interrogate a humble servant of his cousin the Duke of Orleans. As for the lady's information, she makes a slight mistake. I am his highness's servant, not his intimate; and certainly her intimacy with him, if I may judge from all appearances, is greater than my own." The Duke of Burgundy turned a quick and irritable glance upon Madame De Giac; but Jean Charost had made a great mistake. We never render ourselves any service by rendering a disservice to one whom another loves. It was a young man's error; but he well divined that the fair marchioness had prompted the duke to detain him, and thinking to alarm her by a hint of what he had seen at Juvisy, he had gone beyond the proper limit, and made a dangerous enemy. After he had spoken, the young secretary took a step toward the door; but the Duke of Burgundy's voice was instantly heard saying, in a cold, stern, despotic tone, "Not so fast, young man. Stay where you are, if you please." Then putting his hand upon his brow, he remained musing for a moment, and said, still thoughtfully, "We must know your errand." "From me, never, sir," replied Jean Charost. "Boy, you are bold," thundered forth the duke, with his eyes flashing. "I am so, your highness," replied Jean Charost, in a voice perfectly firm, but with a respectful manner, "because I stand in the presence of a prince bearing a high name. I know he has concluded treaties of friendship and alliance with my royal master of Orleans, and I am confident that he will never even think of forcing from his kinsman's servant one word regarding his due and honorable service. You have heard what this good man has said, that I am faithful to those I serve. Were I your servant, I would sacrifice my life sooner than reveal to any other your secrets committed to my charge; and though, in truth, my business now is very simple, yet, as I have no permission to reveal it, I will reveal it to no one; nor do I believe you will ask me. Such, I know, would be the conduct of the Duke of Orleans toward you; such, I am sure, will be your conduct toward him." "Fool! You are no judge of the conduct of princes," replied the duke; and then, for a moment or two, he remained silent, gnawing his lip, with his brow knit, and his eyes cast down. A low, sweet voice, close by Jean Charost, whispered timidly, "Do not enrage him. When too much crossed, he is furious." "Well," said the duke, at length, "I will not force you, young man. Doubtless you are making a mystery where there is none; and by refusing to answer a very simple question, which any prince might ask of another's messenger--especially," he added, with a grim smile, "where there is such love as between my cousin of Orleans and myself--you have almost caused me to believe that there is some secret machination against me. Go your ways, however; and thank your good stars that sent you to help me out of the quagmire, or your ears might have been somewhat shorter before you left this room." The young man's cheek glowed warmly, and his lips quivered; but the same sweet voice whispered, "Answer not. But leave not the town to-night. Conceal yourself somewhere till daylight. You will be followed if you go." Jean Charost took no apparent notice; but bowing low to the Duke of Burgundy, who turned away his eyes with haughty coldness, and inclining his head to Madame De Giac, who looked full at him with her sweet, serpent smile, he quitted the room with a calm, firm step, and the attendant closed the door behind him. As soon as he was gone, the duke exclaimed, with a low, bitter laugh, "On my life! he lords it as if he were of the blood royal." "Honesty is better than royal blood," said the astrologer. "How now, charlatan!" cried the duke, turning fiercely upon him; but then, his thoughts flowing suddenly in a different direction, he gazed upon the young lady from beneath his bent brows, saying, "What was it you whispered to him, fair maid?" "Simply to be cautious, and not to enrage your highness needlessly," replied Agnes, with the color slightly mounting in her cheek. "By my faith, he needed such a caution," rejoined the prince; and then, turning to the astrologer, he asked, "What was it you said about his being present at my death?" "I said, sir, that in years to come," the astrologer replied--"long years, I trust--that youth would be present at your death, and try to avert it." Burgundy mused for a moment, and then muttered, with a low laugh, "Well, it may be so. But tell us, good man, what foundation have we for faith in your predictions? Are you a man of note among your tribe?" "Of no great note, sir," answered the astrologer; "yet not altogether unknown, either. I was once astrologer to the city of Tours; but they offended me there, and I left them. I am, however, one of the astrologers of the court of France--have my appointment in due form, and have my salary of a hundred and twenty livres. This shows that I am no tyro in my art. But we trust not to any fame gained at the present. Our predictions extend over long years, and our renown is the sport of a thousand accidents. Men forget them ere they are verified, or connect not the accomplishment with the announcement. Often, very often too, we are passed from the earth, and our names hardly remembered, when the events we have prognosticated are fulfilled. I have told you the truth, however, and you will find it so. When you do, remember me." "Well, well," said the duke, in his abrupt, impatient manner; and then turning to the attendant, he said, "Take him away. Bid Monsieur De Villon give him four crowns of gold. Tell Peter, and Godet, and Jaillou to get their horses ready. I have business for them. Then return to me. I shall rest early to-night, and would have the house kept quiet." While the attendant conducted the astrologer from the room, the duke spoke, for a moment or two, in a low and familiar tone with Madame De Giac, and then, resuming his stateliness, bowed courteously to her, but somewhat coldly to her young companion, and, opening the door for them with his own hands, suffered them to pass out. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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