It was a beautiful evening in July, the sky flecked with light clouds just beginning to look a little rosy with a consciousness that Phoebus was going to bed. They cannot get over that modest habit; for, although they have seen the god strip himself of his garmenture of rays and retire to rest every day for—on a very moderate calculation—six or seven thousand years, they will blush now and then when they see him entering his pavilion of repose and ready to throw off his mantle. There is much pudency about clouds. All other things get brazen and hardened by custom, but clouds blush still.

It was a beautiful evening in July when the carriage which contained Lucette, Edward, and Madame de Lagny arrived in sight of the chateau of St. Martin des RiviÈres; but, when they did come in sight, how to get at it became a question of some difficulty. There, on a little mound, stood the building,—not large, but apparently very massive and well fortified,—within a hundred yards of the confluence of two deep and rapid rivers, the passage of each commanded by the guns on the ramparts and on the keep. No bridge, no boat, was to be seen, and for some time the party of visitors made various signals to the dwellers in the chateau; but it was all in vain, and at length Edward Langdale resolved to mount the good strong horse of Jacques BeauprÉ and swim the nearest stream.

Educated in a city, it was not without terror and a sweet, low remonstrance that Lucette saw her young husband undertake and perform a feat she had never seen attempted before; but Edward, though borne with his horse a good way down the stream by the force of the water, reached the other side in safety, and his companions could see him ride to the draw-bridge and enter the castle.

During some twenty minutes nothing further could be descried; and then, at a point where one of the outworks came down to the river, what I think was called in those days a water-gate was opened, and a boat shot out with two strong rowers.

Edward Langdale himself did not appear; but one of the boatmen walked up to the carriage and informed the ladies that his lord, the Duc de Rohan, would be happy to receive them in the chateau, but that the carriage and the men must remain on that side of the river, as the boat could only contain four persons and none other could be had.

"Ah, that is the reason Monsieur de Langdale did not return for us," said Madame de Lagny, with whom Edward had become a great favorite. "I was sure he had too much politeness to send servants for his lady if he could come himself."

A few minutes passed in placing Lucette's little wardrobe in the boat, and then, with a heart somewhat faint and sad, she followed Madame de Lagny to the water-side, remembering but too acutely that on the opposite bank she was to be received by persons who, however near akin, were but strangers to her, and there, too, very soon to part from him whom she was not now ashamed to own to herself she loved better than any one on earth.

The boat shot off from the shore, and though carried so far down by the force of the current that the water-gate could not be reached, yet after some hard pulling the shore was gained, and the two ladies turned toward the drawbridge over which they had seen Edward Langdale pass. Madame de Lagny looked toward the great gate, but the young husband did not appear. In his place, however, was seen a stout middle-aged man, with hair somewhat silvered, and his breast covered by a plain corslet of steel. There were two or three other persons a step farther under the arch; and Madame de Lagny whispered, "That must be the duke himself. But where can Monsieur Edward be?"

Lucette's heart was asking her the same question; but by this time the Duc de Rohan was advancing to meet her and her companion, and in a moment more he was near enough to take Madame de Lagny's hand and raise it courteously to his lips.

"You have come to a rude place, madame," he said, "and among somewhat rude men; but we must do what we can to make your stay tolerable."

"Oh, my lord duke," replied the lady, with a courtly inclination of the head, "I must away as soon as possible. I am expected back at the court directly. But where is Monsieur de Langdale? I do not see him."

"He is in the chateau, madame," replied the duke; "but he has been telling me so strange a tale that I have judged it best, before he and this—["girl," he was in the act of saying; but he checked himself, and substituted the words "young lady"]—before he and this young lady meet again, to have from her lips and from yours what are the facts of the case. Pray, let us go in."

"The facts of the case are very simple, my lord," replied the old lady, with some stiffness. "Monsieur de Langdale is the husband of this young lady, formerly Mademoiselle de Mirepoix, whom you do not seem to recognise, my lord duke, though she is your near of kin. He married her in the presence of the cardinal and the whole court."

"More impudent varlet he!" exclaimed the duke, angrily. "And you, mademoiselle,—what have you to say to all this fine affair? Why, you are a mere child! This marriage can never stand!—without any one's consent! It is a folly!"

"Not at all, duke," said Madame de Lagny. "Pray, recollect, sir, that Madame de Rambouillet was married at twelve,—I myself at sixteen. Madame is nearly fifteen, she tells me; and, as to the marriage not standing, you will find yourself much mistaken. The man who made it is not one to leave any thing he undertakes incomplete, as you will discover. They are as firmly married as any couple in the land, and that with the full authority of the king, which in this realm of France supersedes the necessity for any other consent whatever. She is a ward of the crown, sir; and her father having died in rebellion is no bar to the rights of the monarch."

"Madame, I beseech you, use softer words," said the duke, in a calmer tone. "My good cousin De Mirepoix died in defence of his religion, without one thought of rebellion, and really in the service of his Majesty, whose plighted word had been violated not by himself, but by bad ministers who usurped his name. Make room, gentlemen. This way, madame. We shall find in this hall a more private place for our conference."

So saying, he led the way into the large room in the lower story of the keep, and there begged Madame de Lagny to be seated. Lucette he took by the arm and gazed into her face for a moment, saying,—

"Yes; she is very like. Here, take this stool, child: we have no fauteuils here. Now, answer my question. What had you to do with this marriage? Did it take place at his request or yours?"

Lucette's heart had at first sunk with alarm and disappointment at the harsh reception she had received, having little idea what a chattel—what a mere piece of goods—a rich orphan relation was looked upon amongst most of the noble families of France. But the very harshness which had terrified her at first at length roused her spirit; and, though she colored highly, she replied, in a firm tone, "At neither his request nor mine, my lord."

"Ah! good!" cried the duke. "Then neither of you consented? The marriage of course——"

"We did both consent," said Lucette, interposing. "Did he not tell you the circumstances? Did he not give you the cardinal's message?"

"He told me a good deal, and he said something about the Eminence; but, by my faith, I was so heated by the tale that I did not much attend to the particulars. Let me hear your story, mademoiselle. What did the cardinal say?"

"My lord, we had been stopped near MauzÉ by some of the royal officers, and sent on under guard toward Nantes——"

"Oh, I know all about that," interrupted the duke. "What have you been doing since? I trust, not masquerading about Nantes dressed up as a page; though, by my faith, ladies are now getting so fond of men's clothes that they will soon leave us none to wear ourselves. Why, there was my good cousin De Chevreuse, with her young daughter, rode across the country, both in cavaliers' habits, and, finding no other gÎte, stayed all night with the good simple curÉ of the parish, who never found out they were women till they were gone. Well, where have you been, and what have you been doing, since that affair at MauzÉ?"

"The Abbey de Moreilles was burned by lightning, my lord," replied Lucette, whose cheek had not lost any part of its red from De Rohan's language. "We escaped into the Marais, where I was taken ill of the fever common there. As soon as I could travel, we went direct to Nantes, intending to come round at once and seek for Monsieur de Soubise. In consequence of his having sent a man with some of my husband's baggage to that city, we were discovered and arrested."

"Your husband, little child?" exclaimed the duke. "But go on; go on. What happened next?"

"I was separated from Edward, who had treated me with the kindness of a brother," said Lucette.

"Ay, I dare say," again interrupted De Rohan;—"with something more than the kindness of a brother."

"For shame, Monsieur le Duc!" said Madame de Lagny, sharply. "You said very truly just now that we had come to a rude place and amongst rude men. If the cardinal had known what sort of reception this poor lady would meet with, I am sure he would have followed the course Monsieur de Tronson hinted at and given her up to Madame de Chevreuse. There at least she would have been treated with respect and kindness."

At the mere name of Madame de Chevreuse the duke's countenance changed. Without knowing it, good old Madame de Lagny had touched a chord which was sure to vibrate in the heart of any of the Rohan Rohans as soon as one of the Rohan Montbazons was mentioned; and after a moment's pause the prince answered, with a very much less excited air, "His Eminence acted courteously and well in not giving up my fair young cousin to a lady who has no right to her guardianship, who was her father's enemy, whose conduct is not fit for the eyes of a young girl even to witness. But tell me, mademoiselle, what was the message his Eminence sent to my brother to account for his conduct in bestowing—in attempting to bestow—your hand upon an unknown English lad, who may be of good family or may not, but who is no match for any one of the name of Rohan?"

"He said, sir," answered Lucette, "that we were to tell you or the Prince de Soubise, whichever we might find, that, under the peculiar circumstances of the case,—by which, I presume, he meant our having travelled so long together,—the cardinal prime minister had judged it imperatively necessary we should be married, and had himself seen the ceremony performed; that for two years Edward should leave me with you, but that at the end of that time he should claim me and take me, and that all his Eminence's power should be exerted to give me to him. He added, in a lower tone, 'They will find me more difficult to frustrate than Madame de Chevreuse.'"

"That is true, as I live!" said the duke. "But yet this is hard. Why, girl, it will drive my brother Soubise quite mad,—if he be not mad already, as I sometimes think he is."

"His madness will not serve him much against the cardinal," said Madame de Lagny, dryly. "But, my lord, we must bring this discussion to an end, for it is growing dark, and I and Monsieur de Langdale must be treading our way back to Nantes. He is but, as it were, a prisoner upon parole; and I promised my cousin De Tronson I would make no delay."

"Madame, in all the agitation and annoyance this affair has cost me," said Rohan, "I have somewhat, I am afraid, forgotten courtesy. I ordered refreshments for you, indeed, as soon as I heard of your coming; but I did not remember to ask you to partake of them. They will be here in a moment."

"We can hardly stay," said the old lady. "But I beg, sir, you would let Monsieur Edouard be called, both to accompany me and to take leave of his wife."

The duke bit his lips; but after a moment's thought he answered, "Pray, madame, take some refreshment. As to this lad, he may come and wish her good-bye; but no private interview, if you please!"

The old marquise was a good deal offended at all that had passed, and it was not without satisfaction she replied, "Oh, I dare say they have said all to each other they want to say, Monsieur le Duc. They have had private interviews enough since their marriage to make all their arrangements. Is it not so, dear Lucette?"

But Lucette was weeping, and De Rohan, with a cloudy brow, quitted the room.

In a few moments some refreshments were brought in and placed upon the table, and the duke appeared, accompanied by Edward Langdale. The youth's look was serious, and even angry, but that of De Rohan a good deal more calm. "Sit down, monsieur, and take some food," said the latter as they entered; but Edward answered at once, "I neither eat nor drink in your house, sir. I did you and your family what service I could, honestly and faithfully; and—because, under force I could not resist, and to save myself and your fair cousin from a fate which you would not have wished to fall upon her nor I wish to encounter for myself, I yielded to a measure which God and she know I never proposed when it was fully in our power—you treat me with indignity. You much mistake English gentlemen, sir, if you suppose that such conduct can be forgotten in a few short minutes."

"By the Lord!" said De Rohan, with a laugh, "it is well you did not meet with Soubise; for you might have had his dagger in you for half what you have said."

"Or mine in him, if he had insulted me further," answered Edward, walking toward Lucette and taking her hand.

"A pretty bold gallant," said the duke, with a smile. "Madame de Lagny, I pray you, do more honor to my poor house than your young friend."

Now, it must be confessed, the good old lady was hungry; and hunger is an overruling passion. The duke helped her to food and wine, and then, having done what second thoughts had shown him was only courteous to a lady, he turned, under the influence of the same better thoughts, toward Edward, who was still talking in a whisper to Lucette, while she, on her part, could hardly answer a word for weeping.

"Young gentleman," said De Rohan, holding out his hand, "do not let us part bad friends. Remember, first, that if there be any validity in this marriage it is always better to keep well with a wife's relatives; and, secondly, that one of my house, above all others, may well feel mortified and enraged at an alliance which under no circumstances we could have desired or sanctioned. Recollect our family motto,—'Roi ne puis; prince ne daigne: Rohan je suis;' and pride is not so bad a thing as you may think it now. If it be pride of a right kind, it keeps a man from a world of meannesses. As to this young lady, I will take care of her, and, now that my first fit of passion is past, will treat her kindly. Be sure of that, Lucette; for I have even got a notion, by some bad experience, that a portion of love is no evil in the cup of matrimony. However, the question of this marriage must be a matter of consultation between my brother Soubise and myself, and the lawyers too; for I will not conceal from either of you that Soubise, who has more to do with the business than I have, will break it if he can."

Edward took the proffered hand; but he only replied, "His Eminence the cardinal said that he had made it so fast there was no power on earth or in hell to break it. But that must be determined hereafter, my lord duke. At the end of two years I will claim my wife. In the mean time, where is Monsieur de Soubise?"

"Go not near him! go not near him!" said De Rohan. "By my honor, there would be blood-shed soon! He is at Blavet, I fancy, now, on his way to England; but I will write to him this night, and, if possible, you shall have his answer at Nantes. You must not expect any thing very favorable to your pretensions; but, whatever it is, it shall be sent."

"My lord, if I might ask one favor, I would do it," said Edward. "It is this. From what you have yourself said, and from what others have told me, I infer that Monsieur de Soubise is of no very placable nor temperate disposition. He himself has had some share in producing both what you look upon as a misfortune and what had nearly proved the destruction of Lucette and myself, by sending—with very good intentions, doubtless, but I think very unadvisedly—letters and other matters to the very residence of the court, which betrayed our coming to his Eminence the cardinal. Had that not been done, we should in all probability have passed without question, and I should have been able to restore this dear girl to her relations as Mademoiselle de Mirepoix. As it is, my wife she is and must remain; but I would rather that she was under your care than that of the prince, for she has this evening suffered too much for an event, which she could not avoid without dooming herself and me to destruction; and I would fain that the same or perhaps more should not be inflicted upon her from another quarter. Lucette will explain to you much that I have not time to tell, for I see Madame de Lagny has risen, and it is growing so dark that I fear we must depart."

"I can promise nothing," said the duke, "but that I will do my best."

Thus saying, he turned toward Madame de Lagny, who by this time had some lights on the table before her, and addressed to her all those ceremonious politenesses which no one knew better how to display, when not moved by passion, than the Duc de Rohan.

In the mean time, Edward and Lucette remained at the darker side of the room; but, had it been the broadest daylight, their natural feelings would have suffered little restraint. The contrast of Edward's love and tenderness with the cold harshness of her own relations made all her affections cling closer round him than ever, and she hung upon his breast and mingled kisses with his, while the tears covered her cheeks and sobs interrupted her words. "Oh, Edward," she said, "I wish to Heaven that I were indeed but the grandchild of good Clement Tournon, of Rochelle, as you once thought me! We might be very happy then."

Mingled with his words of politeness to Madame de Lagny, the duke had been giving some orders to his own attendants; and at length he said, "Now, young gentleman, it is time to depart. Madame is ready."

One last, long embrace, and Edward advanced to the side of the duke. He did not venture to look at Lucette again, but followed Rohan and Madame de Lagny closely into the outer hall, thence through a small court and a place d'armes, in each of which were a number of soldiers fully armed, and then by a covered way to the water-gate, to which point the small boat had by this time been brought round. There was still a faint light upon the river; but a lantern had been placed lighted in the bow of the boat, and in a few minutes the old lady and her young companion were landed on the other side. One of the boatmen lighted them up to the carriage, and Edward, after bestowing a piece of money upon the man, took his seat beside Madame de Lagny, who gave orders to proceed toward Nantes, stopping, however, at the first auberge where any thing like tolerable accommodation could be found.

"Ah, poor Monsieur de Rohan!" she said, with perhaps not the most compassionate feelings in the world. "He is much to be pitied; and, indeed, he ought to feel, as he said, that some love in marriage is a very good ingredient. He ought to know it by experience; for his own good-for-nothing dame cares not, and never did care, for him; and it is the common phrase in Paris that she has so large a heart she can find room in it for everybody except her husband. Why, I know at least ten lovers she has had besides the Duc de Candale, who is more her slave than her lover, and who"——

Just at that moment, the horses having been put to, the coachman gave a sharp crack of his the whip, the coach a tremendous jolt, and Madame de Lagny brought her story to an end, somewhat to the relief of her young companion.