The state prisoner : a tale of the French regency

Chapter I

From the day of William Clifford^ interview with the baronne at her hotel, his feelings, with regard to her, were materially changed. From that time she became an object rather of compassion and interest than of disapprobation and dislike. Of dislike ? oh no ! It was not in his nature to feel aught but kindness and tenderness towards those who, in distress and grief, allowed him to share in their sorrow. Under other circumstances, indeed, the sensations of deep interest thus excited might have ripened into warmer emotions, but his heart was guarded by love of too fixed, too firm a nature, ever to suffer one thought to stray. He strove to consider the baronne as his sister, and hoped to replace the brother whom she mourned, by

VOL. II. B soothing her grief and regulating the impetuosity of her nature. On her part, Mirabel listened to him as to an inspired oracle ; every word that fell from his lips was treasured up in her mind; every opinion that he uttered was followed to the letter ; her looks, her language, nay, her very reflections, were changed by his example and precepts. In public, it is true, she assumed the mask of gaiety, but here her conversation, though not less brilliant, was more tempered, and her whole appearance, to a discriminating eye, might have displayed a greater regard for those feminine qualities which Clifford had so highly extolled.

In the mean time Willianr's popularity was on the wane, the court ladies pronounced him the coldest and most insensible of a phlegmatic nation; while the regent began to think there was something unaccountable in the young Englishman, whom he had honoured with his especial notice, and with a general invitation to those private banquets from which many of the French nobles were excluded. That a man, on whom nature and fortune had both smiled, should lead so monastic a life, and disregard the advantages which he enjoyed; that he should make his first and last appearance at one of those suppers, in which Philip of Orleans delighted, and only appear afterwards at the grand and general entertainments, all this awakened the suspicions of the regent. The observations which he had individually made, combined with some secret intelligence, induced him to believe the young foreigners mind was engrossed by politics and party schemes. To what point they tended, and how far they were to be dreaded, was now a matter of some consideration for his highness.

Willianr's increased intimacy with Mirabel was to him rather a subject of amusement than of jealousy, as he always looked upon her conduct in the same light, and awaited the day when a declaration from Clifford^ lips would reward the baronne's perseverance, and afford her the glorious opportunity of delivering up, as usual, her suitor and his proposals to unlimited ridicule. It is true that MirabePs manner occasionally staggered the duke^s judgment of the case ; but he only admired her subtlety the more for adapting her demeanour to the rigid notions of a foreigner.

Roland Stanley had not failed to seek his countryman a short time after the few words that had passed between them ; and Clifford, reflecting that the high road was in fact open to any man, and that he had no proof of Stanley's intention to act the spy, candidly acknowledged that he had spoken hastily, and begged that all might be forgotten.

On the morning of the second masquerade, which took place about a month after the first we have described — having been deferred so long in consequence of the bride elect's indisposition— Roland once more visited Clifford.

His manner was earnest and important, and there was a laboured and mysterious tone in his language that foretold the approach of some weighty intelligence. Having once, however, commenced the subject, he proceeded to acquaint William that he had received letters from the court of England, in every one of which the name of Blanch Courtenay was mentioned in terms of the highest admiration. Here he stopped suddenly, assuming a look of regret, and intending that William should extort an unwilling detail of what was to follow. But Clifford knew his companion too well; he plainlv perceived that Stanley was bending beneath the weight of a secret, and was aware that he would gladly and speedily deposit the burden as soon as he found that no assistance was proffered. His acquaintance did not disappoint him : after a long pause, Stanley said that he himself was the last man calculated to be the bearer of unpleasant intelligence, it required so much caution, and prudence, and policy, all of which he had never possessed, yet there were instances in which he conceived silence to be a breach of friendship, and he felt, upon this occasion, that Clifford should be informed of the facts which his English letters announced.

Blanch Courtenay, he said, stood high at court, she had a wonderful influence with royalty, and many courtiers were already disputing the prize ; but it was confidently asserted that she was already betrothed to the Earl of Dalmaine, a young man of high birth and large fortune, a friend and constant companion of the king. They were inseparable, and Sir Philip Courtenay himself had informed one of Stanley's correspondents, that the period for their marriage was fixed, although not announced to the world.

Stanley then added, with an air of candour and kindness, that he did wish to inquire into his countryman's secrets, but it required little penetration to know that such intelligence must be unpleasing to him, although it were better to hear the truths while there remained a possibility of obviating the evil. Then, with a precipitancy that was not quite worthy of his calculating powers, Roland proposed to Clifford to be the bearer of certain private and confidential letters, which were addressed to some courtiers who were immediately about the royal person, but whose loyalty was most questionable. Working himself up to a pitch of enthusiasm, which he trusted might have due effect upon his companion, this eager Jacobite affirmed that a glorious crisis was at hand, and that it now only required the interposition of a stranger, one to whom no suspicion could be attached, to direct the -whole scheme with success. He depicted in flattering terms the requisites of unshrinking courage and fidelity, of noble and steady purpose, of enterprising but judicious conduct ; and then turning abruptly to William, exclaimed,

* Tell me, Clifford, will you assist in restoring England her king, and Blanch Courtenay to her lover ?"

William heard him in silence, with conflicting emotions. Strong as he was in the belief of

Blanches constancy, he felt alarmed, now that he saw her day of trial was at hand. He pictured her unhappy and restless ; tormented by the fear of premature discovery, which perhaps led her to listen with apparent complacency to one she could not love. He called up Madame D5Aubrfs description of Sir Philip, and dreaded the effect of his anger, which would bruise, though it could not break, the spirit of his daughter. But when Stanley changed the subject; when the never-failing topic was started, and the proposal made, that he should carry letters to treacherous dependants, and seek the court to which Blanch belonged, as a traitor and a spy, his indignation was roused, and his anger broke forth. "Never!" he cried; iC you might have known me better, sir! Had I been willing to break the dying commands of my father, and espouse the interests of an exiled house, I would have dedicated my sword to its service, and have bled for the Stuarts on the field. But to return to my native country, after so long an absence, in the despicable office of a traitor and a spy — to league myself with those vipers who would turn against the hand that now protects them — do you dare to propose such a thing to me :

Were it not for our long acquaintance ; were it not, Stanley, that I believe you blinded by infatuation, I would call upon you to answer for having believed me capable of such detestable meanness, and for daring to couple the name of one I love better than life, with a proposition replete with disgrace, and unworthy the consideration of a man of honour."

" I thank you, Clifford/' replied the other, in a low tone of suppressed resentment ; " you are pleased to exercise your powers of language on me, and will, I have no doubt, add cowardice to the list of desirable qualities with which you have invested me : but you are safe from my sword, which has been dedicated to the cause you hold so meanly. But it is time that our acquaintance should be broken off. Since the days we met at Bordeaux, a change has come over all your feelings : your heart is set on other things now, and, as I said before, old friends and new loves do not well together.— Nay, Clifford, I am gone — need I remind you, that in your own house you cannot draw upon an unresisting foe ? My life is at this moment valuable to some, though neither to you or to myself ; but on my return from England, I shall await your commands." He bowed distantly, and left the apartment.

Were we to follow the course of William's reflections upon the varied vexations, anxieties, and apprehensions which the delay of his uncle's letters, combined with many other circumstances, occasioned, we should have little else to relate. Leaving these, therefore, to the reader's imagination, we will accompany him to the masquerade at the palace, where his object was to see and converse with Mirabel, whom he now considered as the only friend he possessed in Paris.

She was, however, in close attendance upon the duchess, who being in an ill humour herself thought fit to vent it upon her attendants, and seemed to take especial pleasure in detaining the baronne in particular from her anticipated amusement. Mirabel found means, nevertheless, to explain the fact to William, and he accordingly left the presence-chamber, and sauntered through the long range of apartments, with less interruption than on the previous night. He became weary at length, and finding an open window, with a covered balcony that was sheltered from the cold, b 3 he went out to enjoy the aspect of the night. It was mild and clear; the full moon cast a chequered light upon the gardens below, and her pale yellow beams wandered in and out among the evergreens, and traversed many of the serpentine walks, throwing the neighbouring ground into stronger shadow. The sky was cloudless ; but of the starry train, one chosen handmaid alone shone brightly, though humbly, by the side of the queen of night.

William gazed for some moments at the heavens, and on looking round, he perceived that he had a companion in his observations. A mask dressed in what was then called the Spanish domino, which consisted of a large cloak and plumed hat, stood by his side, and leaned with him upon the balustrade. They remained together for some time without exchanging a word ; and then the new comer addressed William.

"Your meditations are so profound, noble minstrel, that you will scarcely thank me for intruding on them ; and yet, as I passed by the open window, and saw so fair a scene without, and the very man I sought standing upon the balcony, the temptation was too great to withstand, even at the risk of being called unwel-

" You sought me ? " said William, eyeing the mask as if he would penetrate the black vizard which effectually concealed the wearer's face. " It remains with you to tell me then, on what errand you are bound, and I will forthwith in all candour shape my welcome accordingly/'

" I am on a friendly mission," replied the domino ; i( and though it is my purpose to remain unknown, do not, I pray you, treat the warning I am about to give you as idle."

" Warning!" said Clifford, with a smile. "Now by my faith, good mask, that same word f warning ' is one that I seldom attend to. Caution and I have little sympathy ; for he who measures every step he takes, will find the path of life more irksome and rugged than of necessity it is. But think me not uncourteous ; that which is well meant will ever be well received by me."

" You English," continued the other, tt consider rashness and courage as synonymous terms ; but let me inquire if a lodging in the Bastille, or Vincennes, would be palatable to your impetuous disposition, or — "

« Or"— interrupted William, believing that he had now perceived the drift of the stranger's insinuations; " or whether it would not be better to follow the suggestions of a mutual acquaintance, and fly imaginary dangers to incur certain ones/5

"I do not understand your meaning/' replied the mask; "but as far as imaginary dangers are concerned, a suspicious tyrant, and a treacherous mistress, who are leagued together against you, are enemies not the less to be dreaded because they he in ambush/'

"The figure of your speech, sir," rejoined Clifford sternly, "may be apt, but it requires an explanation : the prince whom I suppose you have thought proper to stigmatize as a tyrant, is one to whom I owe some thanks, and no allegiance. But I must request you will assist me to the lady's name, which you have most unwarrantably coupled with mine."

The mask laughed provokingly. "You should not judge so slightly of my penetration, Mr. Clifford," he continued; "there is but one of our French dames on whom you deign to smile; and yet, when I call to mind the philippic I once heard, launched from your lips against the manners and morals of our good city, it makes me smile to think that you should have installed Mirabel de Bernay in a heart dedicated to the austerity of virtue." *

" Comte de Salins !" exclaimed William, " I might have sooner guessed the disinterested friend who wished to provide for my safety, even at the expense of that fair fame which has yet escaped detraction ; but I will deal more openly with you, — that man who dares to utter a gross calumny, in my presence, against the Baronne de Bernay, must either retract his words, and own himself a liar and a coward, or maintain the falsehood with his sword, and seal it with his blood !"

As Clifford spoke, he placed his hand upon his weapon, an action that was imitated by the mask, who, however, thus continued :

" In recognising me, Mr. Clifford, you must be sensible that you are speaking with one in whom your sword could inspire no terror, since mine has been measured with the best in the land, and twice with fatal success ; but I did not intend that my counsels should lead to altercation, and when you consider the matter calmly the quarrel will appear scarcely justifiable. That you have more reason than any other person to espouse the baronne's cause is obvious ; but the very circumstance that delegates such authority, at the same time precludes the possibility of exercising it too fully. But it is ever thus with the best of us ; the errors which our unbiassed judgment condemns are easily palliated when turned to our individual advantage. I am speaking generally, and beg that you will acquit me of all intention to be personal in my remarks."

" You wrong me, M. le Comte/' replied Clifford ; " but, above all, you foully wrong the Baronne de Bernay, nor can I permit so false a charge to remain unrefuted. The right I claim to stand forward as the champion of your fair countrywoman arises merely from that obligation which binds every man of honour to resent a falsehood coupled with his name, which slander would cast upon a virtuous woman's reputation."

A sound between a laugh and a sneer escaped the domino's lips, who exclaimed,

" You carry the farce too far, sir Englishman ; you would not surely enter your asseverations in the lists against my observations, or gainsay a fact that is as well-known to our good city of Paris as to yourself and me. But if you are willing to exercise your skill in pleading, it would be no unworthy occasion to display your powers, by explaining the mysterious bond which connects you with this paragon, since love has had no voice in the affair."

"The friendship which subsists between myself and the baronne," replied Clifford, who strove to curb his indignation, lest it should tell to Mirabel's disadvantage, " is of that nature which neither of us need blush to own; but allow me to assure you, that, so far from pleading her cause, as you somewhat insolently express yourself, I should consider such a step derogatory to her ; nor do I comprehend by what authority you constitute yourself a judge either of her actions or mine."

He paused for a few moments, and then added,

" I wait your pleasure, sir, to know if you intend making me an open apology and retraction of your insinuations, or to follow me and abide by the consequences."

"Forgive me," replied the domino, "if I still doubt your intention of adventuring your life in so light a cause, or wasting so much enthusiasm on so worthless an object."

" Follow me, sir/5 said Clifford, u yonder door leads down a staircase into the garden, and there you will easily learn what my intentions are.'*

He pushed the door aside, and, followed by the domino, descended the stairs hastily, threw his cloak upon the grass, and, drawing his sword, placed himself in an attitude of defiance. His antagonist also unsheathed his weapon, but Clifford dropped his point, on perceiving that the count still retained his mantle, and remonstrated with him in vain.

" No," he replied, * I would not be known, and only request, in case I am wounded, that you will convey me privately from this spot."

iC M. de Salins," said Clifford, " replacing his own cloak, " this is no time for ceremony ; I entreat you to remember the fearful advantage which my stature gives me over you, particularly at this moment, when your limbs are encumbered with that immense mantle ; tell me that you spoke in anger and I will accept your apology, even at the last moment."

" I am not one," replied his companion, dryly, " to change my opinion of man or woman at the bidding of another."

Here he crossed his sword with that of William, displaying in the single pass that took place, certainly more grace than vigour.

" You are right/5 cried the mask, " this cloak is unbearable, and even the hat and plume obstruct my view."

Thus saying, the stranger threw off the disguise, and stood before William in the full dress of the duchesses maids of honour.

" Good Heavens V\ cried William, " what can this mean, and what has induced you to expose yourself to such danger ?"

Mirabel answered him half playfully, half timidly.

" Many reasons," she replied, " first, because to-night, I hardly know why, but I have had an odd feeling come over me, a thirst for amusement, and I wished to prove my proficiency in masking, by conversing with you for a while without detection ; and lastly, because — though I almost fear you will blame me — I longed to ascertain how I really stood in your estimation, and if you would consider the cause of Mirabel worthy to be espoused."

" And over and above all/5 continued Clifford^ u you wished to display your skill in fencings at the risk of making me a murderer }"

" Oh no/' she replied, *$ you rate both my courage and my vanity too highly. Had you stood upon the offensive instead of the defensive, the denouement would have been more speedy, and the encomium on my fencing lost. You are displeased with me, I fear," she added ; u but nevertheless this incident will be a source of eternal pride and gratification ; for, I am convinced, there is not one of those who pour their unheeded protestations daily in my ear, that would resent an attack upon Mirabel de Bernay as nobly as you have done this night."

Not a little excited by the success of the adventure, the baronne's countenance assumed that joyous and animated expression which was so familiar to it in former days.

" I feel happier," she cried, " than I have done for many a day, and am grateful for the feeling, though I know it is to be transient. The duchess detained me so long, for no other earthly purpose than to torment me with her ill-humour, that when her highness did retire, I felt like an uncaged bird; the thought struck me, in an instant I was equipped a la Salins, for whom I intended you to take me, and set out in search of you. But now that we are alone, and out of the hearing of any one, will you redeem your promise relative to your affair

with the Duke of P ; I am impressed with

an idea that I may be of use in this matter, and it is hardly generous to deprive me of the only opportunity I may ever have of proving my gratitude."

"Another time," replied Clifford, " I am not in the mood to talk on such a subject at this moment. I have had so much to vex and thwart me lately, that I am out of conceit with myself, and the world in general."

" Do not say so," replied Mirabel, sadly; " or at least do not include me in that world, with which I have now so little sympathy ; but it is not for me to hurry that confidence, whose effect I gather from what you once told me, might be to restore you to her you love. Alas ! William, I have vowed to further your happiness by every means in my power, but knowing the secrets of my heart, you will forgive the weakness which cannot desire sincerely any event that may hasten an eternal separation."

" Nay, do not speak in so sad a tone !" exclaimed her companion, as he saw the tear that trembled in the moonlight, "such subjects are painful to us both/5

"What a lovely night!" she broke off suddenly, looking up to the sky. " A night when those who love, send a thousand thoughts and wishes in the direction of the absent. Do you know, William, sometimes I think the stars aboA'e us are the homes of the blessed, and that Gaspard looks down upon his sister from the brightest among them. He is my guardian angel now ; I am sure he would not suffer any other to possess that office but himself. Oh, William Clifford, William Clifford ! he sees us both at this moment ; he knows what you have been to me, and he blesses you as I do."

She turned aside her face for one moment, and then continued :

" But I will not talk of myself, for I know your thoughts are wandering with your heart. Speak to me then of her you love, for I can bear it now ; describe her to me ; let me know the human being that is worthy of your love ?"

" Oh, Mirabel," replied Clifford, " I feel that it is kind and noble of you to speak in this man-

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ner, but do not ask me to dwell upon what she is ; do not ask me to describe her. Nothing that I said could give you an idea of her beauty, her goodness, her disinterested nature, disinterested as your own ; and, believe me, she would appreciate your character — she would love you, Mirabel!"

" No, no !" exclaimed the other, eagerly, " she would not, she could not love me, and I — I should hate her ! You do not know how often she occupies my thoughts; I think of her, and strive to picture her to my mind, but in vain ; sometimes I fancy that my heart expands towards the woman, with whom its dearest feelings are in common, and then again a fearful feeling of hatred takes possession of my mind. Alas ! such violence is no doubt foreign to her gentle nature ; she would shrink from such as me ! What would I give to see her ; perhaps, perhaps, William, I might learn to love her, at least I might admire and emulate her. Have you no portrait, no resemblance, in your possession, to appease my curiosity in some degree r"

" Yes/' replied Clifford, jf I have a small, but imperfect copy of a large picture that was painted at Bordeaux, which I always wear."

" Let me see it ! You will not refuse me so simple a request!" exclaimed the baronne, earnestly., " you do not know how my mind is set upon it ?"

"The moon is very bright/5 said Clifford, "but it is a bad moment to judge of the painting."

He took the miniature from his bosom, and gave it to Mirabel, who looked at it for several moments without speaking, while a thousand conflicting emotions rose within her at the sight of Blanch's portrait.

"She is fair/' said the baronne at length, with some hesitation ; " and her hair seems golden. — Is she tall then ? "

" Yes/' replied Clifford, " you are right. She is above the ordinary height."

A deep, deep sigh, which forced its way, in spite of her efforts to check its progress, followed these remarks, and then she returned the picture.

" It is beautiful," she said, " most beautiful. They are happy whose countenance can reflect their soul, and vouch for its nobleness."

A pause ensued, painful to both, which was at length broken by William.

"There are people coming down the staircase/5 he cried, hurriedly ; a put on your hat and mask, and draw your cloak round you : they have been attracted by the glitter of my sword, which I unfortunately did not sheathe/5

" Holy Virgin ! what will become of me ! " cried Mirabel ; * one of them looks like the regent. For pity's sake do not let them discover me/'

" Draw your sword, then," said William, i£ and play the part of Monsieur de Salins boldly, for we may be hardly tried."

The baronne obeyed, but she trembled so violently as to retard her efforts, and she had hardly reassumed the disguise before the regent came up, attended by several courtiers.

rt Hold, gentlemen ! " he cried ; u the first who strikes another blow will have to deal with Philip of Orleans ! Is your valour so impetuous as to require a display at the expense of the law, even in our very gardens ? — For you, sir Englishman, who will no doubt plead ignorance as an excuse, let me advise you to beware how you again brave the laws of the land in which you live : but your antagonist, at least, can offer no such idle apology — M. le Comte de Salins.—"

" Pardon me, my lord," interrupted a courtier, " but three hours ago I saw the Comte de Salins stretched on a sick bed, too weak to raise his hand to his mouth."

" Pasques Dieu !" exclaimed the duke ; " has the count gained a twin brother since yesterday ? or who has stolen his favour, his stature, and his taste for duelling ? \\

He advanced towards Mirabel, whose usual presence of mind now forsook her; and who sheltering herself behind William, addressed one word of earnest supplication in his ear. This movement elicited a general laugh from all but the duke and Clifford. The one was too angry, the other too much alarmed, to join in the mirth.

" My lord," said William, resolved to interfere between Philip and the baronne at all risks, and addressing him firmly, but respectfully, at the same time covering her retreat to the staircase, " I sincerely crave ^pur pardon for an involuntary breach of decorum ; but at the same time, permit me to remind you, that the code of laws, drawn up by your royal self, to regulate the affairs of masking, is as strict as any other, and to insist upon the discovery of any mask, contrary to the wall of the party concerned, is in direct opposition to that justice which you have ever supported."

As he concluded, he placed himself before the door, and listened anxiously to the sound of the baronne's rapid ascent, while the hope of her escape enabled him to sustain the duke's fury, and the sarcasms of his companions.

" Mr. Clifford has chosen a right formidable adversary, who takes to his heels on the first occasion," said one : — " A very Hercules in size and prowess," rejoined another.

<( Gentlemen," exclaimed Clifford, " the presence of his highness alone prevents me from chastising the insolent language, which you would not dare to repeat elsewhere."

(( Silence every one of you ! " cried the duke, in a voice of thunder ; " and do you, sir, lower the style of your language, and stand from before the doorway, that I may myself identify the enemy in whom you take so strange an interest."