It was late in the day when I returned to Gourville's lodging, and I thought he would have gone mad with joy when I told him the success of my attempt. He frankly avowed to me also, that, though well accustomed to dangerous enterprises, he had listened during my absence for every sound, expecting each minute to find that I had been arrested, and that a lettre de cachet had been sent for his own apprehension.

"And did you really think, Monsieur Gourville," I demanded, "that, even had I been stopped myself, I would have implicated you?"

"There is no knowing, Monsieur,--there is no knowing," replied he: "the question is not a pleasant thing, and I have never been able to tell how I should myself behave under its infliction. I acknowledge that it is just as likely that I should yield all sorts of secrets to its potent influence, as that I should conceal them."

"Of course, then, I can neither be surprised nor offended," I replied, "at your attributing to me the same feelings. But to speak of other matters: to-morrow early I shall go out to St. Maur, to see if a friend, whom I expect there, has returned; but I shall be back in the evening, and you will find me at my auberge by five o'clock." Thus ended our conversation, and we parted.

It is wonderful what changes a few hours produce in this life. On leaving Gourville that night, we were both as fully persuaded as mortal men could be, that our scheme was going on better and better each hour. Nor did we entertain a doubt that we should be able to carry it forward successfully to the close. Ere I had risen from my bed, however, the next morning, I was surprised by some one knocking sharply at my chamber door; and on opening it, the first thing I saw was the face of Gourville, apparently many shades paler than it had been when I left him the night before. "We are lost!" he said; "some unfortunate accident has discovered our whole design."

"Unfortunate, indeed," I answered; "but let me hear, my good friend, what is it that has filled you with such sad tidings this morning, when I left you last night borne up upon the very pinions of hope?"

"I have just discovered," he replied, "that after a long consultation before day-light this morning between the Duke de Beaufort, the Archbishop coadjutor, the Cardinal, and the Duke of Orleans, Monsieur de Beaufort himself, with three troops of cavalry, set out for Vincennes a little before the dawn; and, after searching every village in the neighbourhood, proceeded to the chÂteau, and there remains."

This information was certainly alarming enough; but still it seemed to me necessary to obtain some more correct intelligence in regard to the causes of these movements on the part of the Court than Gourville had yet obtained, ere we decided upon abandoning an attempt, which, as far as it had proceeded, had been conducted with great success. Gourville coincided with me in opinion; but the difficulty was, where and how to obtain the information that we required.

"At all events," he said, "it is my duty to communicate immediately what has occurred to the poor fellow, Franc-c[oe]ur, through whom I have carried on my correspondence with the soldiers at Vincennes. He belongs to another company of the guards, who are now in Paris; and as the matter may touch his life, should we be actually betrayed, I must give him instant notice, that he may betake himself to a place of security. As I go, I will endeavour to obtain all the information I can, and will return in less than an hour, and let you know my discoveries."

He was as good as his word, and returning even paler than before, seemed somewhat surprised to find me quietly eating my breakfast, as if nothing had occurred to derange my ordinary habits, or affect my appetite. He now told me that he had found the serjeant not only informed of all the particulars with which he himself was acquainted, but also possessed of a knowledge of their cause. This he had communicated to Gourville, who now related it to me, and it appeared that one of the soldiers, who had been trusted with the scheme for delivering the Princes, had taken fright the day before, and, pretending to confess himself at the church of NÔtre Dame, had given the penitentiary a billet, informing him that, on the following Sunday, at three o'clock, the Princes were to be set at liberty, by means of an understanding between their friends and some persons within the castle of Vincennes.

"Now," continued Gourville, "although Franc-c[oe]ur declares that, notwithstanding this piece of treachery, he is sure his comrade will not betray us any farther, yet, as it is clear that our scheme is now hopeless, and as I never put great faith in any man's resolution under the influence of the question, I think it will be a great deal better both for you and me to leave Paris as fast as possible."

"Certainly, as the scheme is hopeless," I replied, "I see nothing that should detain us; and therefore I shall return with all speed to Brittany; where, perhaps, it may be advisable," I added, with a laugh, "to tell Monsieur de Villardin by no means to put any trust in all those fine petitions and remonstrances of the Princess Dowager, of which you boasted so much when first I saw you."

"No, no," replied Gourville, smiling in turn; "let him not rely upon them for the liberation of his princely friend. Tell him rather, for me, that I now look upon it as absolutely impossible to obtain the freedom of the Princes by any means but the sword. The Parliament and the Queen are alike resolved not to give them their liberty; and it is to the efforts of their friends alone that we must look for their deliverance."

After a few more words to the same effect, we parted; and mounting the sturdy little horse which I had bought to carry me to Vincennes, I rode away as hard as I could, on the side of Brittany. When I had completely tired out my beast I again took the post, and pursued my way towards Dumont, with very little rest or cessation. It is true, when I arrived I was desperately fatigued, for nine days had taken me to Paris and back, a distance of more than seven hundred miles; and during the period of my absence, I had spent two whole days and part of another in the capital. Nor had I any very consolatory remembrances to make me bear up with spirit under my corporeal weariness, having been foiled in my endeavours to serve the Prince, at the moment that success seemed within my grasp; but, at all events, I felt that I had some reason to be satisfied with my journey, inasmuch as I had obtained every information that Monsieur de Villardin could require, and had found an opportunity of personally seeing and attempting to aid his friend, though our scheme had ultimately proved ineffectual. The chief mortification, indeed, which I experienced, arose from a fear that the Prince de CondÉ--who would, of course, remain ignorant of the events which had taken place without the walls of his prison--might imagine that I had deceived him; and I could only console myself by remembering that one day he must learn the truth.

On arriving at Dumont, everything I saw announced that Monsieur de Villardin had not waited for the information which he had sent me to seek, ere he formed his determination. The desire of a change of scene and thought, and the wish to deliver his friend, had overcome every other feeling, and he was, in fact, actually in arms when I arrived. At first he would scarcely believe that I had performed the journey, but when he learned all that I had done besides, he loaded me with thanks and praises.

He then told me his own plans, and informed me that he could but allow me one day for repose, as on the Thursday morning following he was about to march, with all the forces he had been able to collect, for Bordeaux.

"I sent off Gaspard de Belleville to Bordeaux," he added, "the morning after your departure for Paris, charging him with a letter for the Princess, and another for Monsieur de Bouillon. In each of these I said, that unless the Princes were liberated within three weeks, their friends might expect to see me in Guyenne. As Gaspard is now of age, too," he added, in that sort of peculiar discursive tone which a man assumes when he wishes to communicate a matter of particular interest, as if it were one of no interest at all--"as Gaspard is now of age, too, to enter the service, I have requested Monsieur de Bouillon to give him a commission in one of the regiments at Bordeaux; but I have not forgotten you, and as I wish you always to be near me, I propose to give you a troop in the regiment of cavalry I am now raising. Monsieur de Turenne had a company of infantry at your age, and I see no reason why I should not do the same for you, especially as I have a great lack of officers who have stood fire."

Although, to tell the truth, I would much rather have entered the service on the part of the King and the Court, than on the part of their adversaries, yet the idea of activity and enterprise seldom came amiss; and I thanked Monsieur de Villardin sincerely for his kindness, but added, that I trusted he would find the means of keeping me near him.

"I will make you my aide-de-camp," he replied; "but we have a number of other arrangements to attend to. Go, therefore, and lie down for two or three hours, and then join me in the esplanade at the end of the park."

I did as he bade me, as far as the lying down went; but, though tired to death, I could not sleep. I was much refreshed, however, even by the sort of repose I obtained, and as soon as I thought the time was expired, I got up and walked out to the esplanade, where I found that Monsieur de Villardin was occupied in reviewing, or rather drilling, the regiment he had been employed in raising during my absence. Four hundred men made the extent of his force, and amongst them only two, who had served in the wars of Paris, could give any assistance in matters of discipline, if we except half a dozen wild young nobles of the neighbourhood, who had joined the corps of the Duke, but who were not present on this occasion. I may say, then, that I was of no slight assistance to Monsieur de Villardin on that and the following day; for though he was undoubtedly an excellent officer, yet, of course, he could not drill four hundred men without help from some one. The cavaliers whom we had to deal with were in general tall, powerful men, from the upper districts of Brittany; and though they looked stupid enough at first, yet, when what they were to do was explained to them, they proved neither dull of comprehension, nor slow in execution.

That which pleased me more than anything else in the whole scene was, to observe that, while in actual exertion and activity, the deep heavy gloom which had overshadowed the countenance of the Duke ever since the death of his wife, passed away, and for the time he was himself again. This change only lasted for the time, it is true, and the moment he turned from the esplanade, the cloud was as dark and stern as ever. Indeed, this observation may apply to the whole of the rest of his life. In the field I have often seen him cheerful, and even gay; but the moment that the temporary stimulus was withdrawn, he would fall back into a deep and bitter melancholy, which I never saw enlivened even by a smile. Generally after supper he retired to a solitary chamber, and there remained alone for several hours. At first, I fancied that he occupied himself in reading, for which he always had a strong taste; but being obliged, on more than one occasion, in the course of the civil strife that ensued, to break in upon his retirement, I almost always found him immersed in deep thought, with his cheek resting on his hand; and never saw a book near him during those hours of the night that he thus passed alone.

On our return from the esplanade, which did not take place till a late hour of the evening, we found Father Ferdinand walking in the flower-garden with Mademoiselle de Villardin, and smiling upon all her young and graceful sports with that bland expression of reflected enjoyment which sits so well upon the lip of age. As soon as the little Laura beheld me, she sprang up as usual to my neck, and, making a sort of seat of my arm, scolded me with childish vehemence for my long absence.

"He will be absent from you still longer, my sweet child," said Monsieur de Villardin, kissing her cheek; "and therefore you must remember to keep far from the water, as there will be no one there to save you. Do you know, my good father," he added, turning to the Priest, "that child would soon make me a very coward? The only thing I fear, in going to do what I conceive my duty, is, that I may never see her again."

He waited for no reply, but turned into the house, and we followed. After supper, Father Ferdinand and myself were left alone, and I now learned more of the arrangements which Monsieur de Villardin had found it necessary to make, than he had himself communicated. As Brittany was in general loyal, and the governor most decidedly attached to the Court, against which the Duke was now in arms, he had determined upon sending his whole household with Mademoiselle de Villardin, and everything easily moveable, both from the PrÉs VallÉe and from Dumont, to the estates of his late wife at Virmont in the Orleanois, where his daughter, being in the immediate neighbourhood of her grand-uncle, Monsieur de Loris, would, he fancied, be much more safe than in Brittany.

"They have already arrested the wife and sister of the Duke de Bouillon," said the Confessor; "and Monsieur de Villardin thinks that if they imprison women as a sort of surety for their relatives, they may equally well imprison children. He has prevailed upon me," added the good Priest, "to go to Virmont also, and to superintend the education of his daughter, though God knows I have every inducement to stay in this province, and no worldly motive has ever been able to make me quit it hitherto. Here I was born," he continued, musing: "here are all the associations of my infancy and of my age; nor did I think to leave it, though the Duke has frequently asked me. But I have now yielded to another voice more persuasive than his."

"Indeed!" I said, in some surprise; and he instantly added, more in answer to my look than to the exclamation,--"The voice of my own heart, my son."

The conversation then rambled on in a desultory manner; and the worthy Father, ere we parted, gave me an infinity of good advice, which, of course, I was the more willing to take, because he put it less in the dogmatical form of directions in regard to my own conduct, than under the semblance of the results of his own experience and general observations upon man and the world. He exacted from me a promise, also, that I would write to him continually, giving him not only an account of the general events in which I was about to mingle, but also detailing my own actions, thoughts, and feelings, as far as it was wise and prudent to do so by the insecure conveyance of the post.

"In your letters to me, my son," he added, "you cannot be too minute; for, believe me, everything that concerns you, your health, your welfare, the progress of your mind, and the success of your fortunes, are all a matter of interest to me in no slight degree."

He has acknowledged to me since, that his chief motive, in exacting from me this promise, was not so much the desire of watching over my conduct himself, as the wish to add a sort of safeguard to all the good principles he had endeavoured to instil into my mind; well knowing that the sense of moral responsibility is seldom so vivid in youth as greatly to affect our actions, unless some co-operating restraint compels us continually to examine our own hearts minutely. He did not choose to suffer his motive to appear at the moment, however laudable he knew it to be, fully understanding that my disposition was not one to submit to any checks but those I chose to impose upon myself. I notice this fact, indeed, more as a slight trait of that petty policy, which the good Father suffered to mingle with his other more estimable qualities, than from any effect that was produced upon myself; as my absence at Bordeaux was too short, and the circumstances in which we were placed were too difficult, to admit of any extended correspondence between us at that time.

On the Thursday morning we began our march, and advanced rapidly towards Bordeaux, crossing an immense extent of country, which was at that time in a state of disorganization and confusion, which nobody who did not see it at that period can possibly conceive. Indeed, I will not attempt to describe it: for no one living under an orderly and well-conducted form of government would believe that such a complete state of anarchy and misrule could be produced, throughout a whole country, by the follies and dissensions of half a dozen unruly and ambitious men. Although a single regiment would at any time have stopped us on our march, it not only seemed that no regiment was to be found in the whole tract which we traversed; but such was the state of apathy and confusion that reigned in every part of the kingdom, that no town or village through which we passed appeared to have had the slightest intimation of our approach till we showed ourselves in its streets. Monsieur de Villardin himself, quite accustomed to the sort of warfare which we were pursuing, advanced direct upon Bordeaux with very little caution, taking care, indeed, to avoid those towns which he knew to be garrisoned for the Court; but heedless altogether,--at least, so it seemed to me,--in regard to the movements of our enemies, who were certainly marching in considerable force towards the same point with ourselves. The whole business, indeed, was conducted in so different a manner from that which I had seen in our civil wars in England, that I could not but come to the conclusion that the French were decidedly a better-tempered people than my own countrymen; and, without being braver, that they bore every sort of misfortune, fatigue, and danger, with a degree of light carelessness that no Englishman could have affected, much less felt, under similar circumstances.

How it happened that we did not encounter the army of Monsieur de Meilleraie I cannot at all explain, as we certainly must have passed within five miles of his camp. So, however, it did happen; and, after a march of rather more than ten days, we entered the city of Bordeaux, amidst the acclamations of the people, and the rejoicings of our friends and partisans. We found the town, indeed, in a very unpromising condition for undergoing a siege. Provisions and stores, it is true, were most abundant, the people were zealous in the cause of the Princes, a considerable force of veteran troops were within the place, and the generals were experienced and determined; but the fortifications of the city itself were, to all appearance, incompetent to resist for a single day the attack of a regular army. The inhabitants would not hear of the suburbs being destroyed, for the defence of the rest of the city; and it became necessary to protect them also against the enemy, who was now approaching rapidly.

Diligence and activity, however, remedied many defects. Several redoubts were thrown up on the upper side of the Garonne; the old castle of Blancfort, which had seen the days of the Black Prince, was destined once more to receive a garrison; and numbers of the citizens worked day and night at the wall and trenches, in order to put them in a state for resistance before the approach of the royal army. By this time the Duke of Epernon was within a few miles of the city, and the first active operations were undertaken on the side of Blancfort, from which place Monsieur de Chambon, our marÉchal de camp, was forced to make a precipitate retreat. An effort was made on the part of the Bordelais to support him, in which our regiment took a share: but the nature of the ground which the enemy now occupied, was so strong, that all we could accomplish was to cover the retreat of the marÉchal de camp, which was now effected without difficulty and in good order. On that side the Duke was held at bay; but the King and Court were by this time at Libourne, while Monsieur de Meilleraie was advancing towards the faubourg St. Surin, which seemed quite untenable; and it was evident that he intended, if possible, to take advantage of its total want of defences, in order to storm the city by the Porte Digeaux.

It so happened, however, that in advance of the gate was a dunghill, on which had been thrown a considerable quantity of rubbish, left by some improvements which had been carried on about two years before in that quarter of the town, the whole forming an elevation of a few feet, at a short distance from the Porte Digeaux. On visiting the spot, to see what might best be done for the defence of the gate, the Dukes of Bouillon and Rochefoucault, together with Monsieur de Villardin and several others, advanced to the top of this little mound, in order to gain a better view of the surrounding objects, when it suddenly struck some one, I do not know whom, that the very heap on which they were standing might be converted into a half-moon, for the defence of the gate. No sooner was this plan proposed than it was executed. What little additions the time permitted were immediately made; and, though it was utterly impossible either to erect a parapet or to dig a fosse, a dunghill and a pile of rubbish thus became the principal defence of the city of Bordeaux.

Scarcely were these preparations complete, when the attack upon the faubourg commenced; and, while the MarÉchal de Meilleraie himself proceeded to force the barricades which had been erected in the streets, and were defended vigorously by the Duke de Rochefoucault, a detachment was sent round by the vineyards and corn-fields, in order to turn the faubourg, and attack the half-moon from the west. This part of the plan, however, had been foreseen by Monsieur de Bouillon and Monsieur de Villardin; and although the marÉchal succeeded in forcing the barricades in the faubourg, the detachment which I have mentioned got entangled amongst the hedges and walls of the vineyards, which had been previously garnished with several corps of infantry, and was glad to effect its retreat with the loss of nearly seven hundred men.

The events of the day gave great encouragement to the people of Bordeaux; and, though we found it very difficult to prevail upon the men to defend the half-moon with any degree of regularity, yet, whenever it was attacked by the enemy, a sudden sortie from the Porte Digeaux and one of the neighbouring posterns succeeded, in all instances, in repelling the assailants, and sweeping their trenches as far as they had been conducted.

I do not propose to give any minute account of this well-known siege. The part I took in it was little more than that of a common soldier, though, by volunteering my services upon all occasions and in every sort of occupation, I was continually in the midst of the fire. By a species of stupidity, or perhaps, from early initiation into such scenes of peril, I have never been able to remember, when actually engaged in battle, that there was any sort of danger to be apprehended; and though, when Monsieur de Villardin and the Duke de Bouillon,--who about this time took a good deal of notice of me--reprehended me for exposing myself madly, as they called it, I used to make very strong and sincere resolutions of prudence and circumspection; yet, whenever the next day came, and I found myself in the sally, or on the half-moon, I quite forgot to look out for the danger, and never remembered my resolutions till I was once more within the walls.

Little occurred to me of a personal nature, during the whole of my residence at Bordeaux, that is at all worth relating. In the defence I endeavoured to do my duty; and under such circumstances it is very difficult to do more. I was fortunate enough, however, to please those who commanded, and received more praise for my conduct than I at all deserved. As I was scarcely ever absent from the point of attack, my more peaceful operations consisted principally in eating, drinking, and sleeping; and, as I knew nobody in the whole town, besides the personal attendants of Monsieur de Villardin,--with the exception of Gaspard de Belleville, who had now obtained a commission in the regiment of the Duke de Bouillon,--very little occurred to divert my thoughts even for a moment from the operations of the siege. Gaspard I saw but seldom; but when I did so, we met upon, perhaps, better terms than we had done in the house of Monsieur de Villardin. He had acquired a great deal of strut and swagger, it is true, upon the strength of his new situation; but, by this time, he knew me too well to provoke me deliberately, and, therefore, always maintained a degree of civility with which I was quite satisfied. I fancied, indeed, now he had left Monsieur de Villardin, and had embarked in an entirely new course of life, that the jealousy with which he had regarded me, on account of the Duke's preference for myself, had become extinct, and that his hatred was consequently at an end; but in this I afterwards found that I was mistaken. I had but little opportunity of observing his general conduct, but, from that which I did see of it, I should say, that, though not wanting in courage, he was at this time anything but enterprising; and that the great favour which he obtained with his commander was principally acquired by those somewhat servile and insinuating manners, which he knew well how to put on towards his superiors, though he was insufferably insolent and domineering to every one below him.

One little adventure I certainly did meet with, which, though it produced no results at the time, I could not help connecting in my own mind with the presence of Gaspard de Belleville in Bordeaux. Having returned to my own lodging, in the evening of the sixth day of the siege, in order to get something to eat, as I had not tasted food since the night before, I was suddenly disturbed at my supper, by a cry of "Alerte! Alerte!--to the walls! to the walls!" and, hurrying out as fast as possible, I was proceeding towards the Porte Digeaux, when, at the corner of one of the narrow streets, I ran accidentally against a lady handsomely dressed, and, nearly knocking her down, struck out of her hand the black velvet mask, called a loup, which was then very generally used by women in the higher classes, under the pretext of defending their complexions from the sun or from the sharp air. Stooping hurriedly down, I picked up the mask, and returned it to the lady, raising my eyes to her face, for the first time, as I did so. My surprise was not a little, I confess, to see in such gay habiliments Madame Suzette, the suivante of the late unhappy Duchess de Villardin. She had recognised me sooner, and was gazing on me with an expression of countenance which I shall not easily forget,--such a strange mixture of coquetry, and hatred, and self-satisfied vanity did it display. Taking back her mask, she continued to gaze at me till she saw me about to speak; and then applying it to her face, she turned upon her heel with an air of insolent scorn, and, tripping down the street, left me to pursue my way to the walls. Nor, during the rest of the siege, did I see her again, although I think I should have recognised her in despite of her loup.

For thirteen days the siege was continued with great activity; the half-moon remained in the hands of the Bordelais, provisions were plenty, and the determination of the populace was but little shaken. However, the MarÉchal de Meilleraie, finding his attack upon the Porte Digeaux unavailing, entered upon a new plan of operations, and pushed his trenches on the other side of the town, in the gardens between the Archbishop's palace and the convent called the Chartron. Our proper quarters in the town lay in that very neighbourhood; Monsieur de Villardin having been assigned a house by the side of the cathedral of St. Andrew, and his men being billeted in the streets round about him. We could do nothing, however, to stay the progress of the besiegers; the trenches were carried on rapidly, and, notwithstanding sallies innumerable, a battery of six pieces of cannon opened upon the curtain, and very soon effected a practicable breach.

Of course, all was now anxiety in the city; and, though the generals did everything in their power to keep up the spirits of the Bordelais, assuring them that the breach was not practicable, that internal works should be thrown up during the night to remedy the evil, and that they themselves, with their own followers, and the volunteers from the town, would undertake to make good their defence against all the troops which could be brought to act upon that point,--the people evidently lost heart; tumultuous meetings were held in different parts of the city; and I acknowledge that the only choice left for us appeared to me, either to be given up by the inhabitants as a sort of peace-offering to the Court, or, at least, to die in the breach, defending a town that was no longer defensible.

Such, I believe, was the general opinion also of the principal officers and gentlemen engaged in the cause of the Princes; and it became a very difficult question how to act. Nor were the Bordelais themselves more decided. A number of generous voices were raised against the very idea of delivering up the noblemen, who had trusted them, to their bitter enemies; but the great multitude, which never knows any mean between rashness and timidity, called loudly upon their rulers to make peace with the Court at every sacrifice.

From this unpleasant situation both parties were suddenly and unexpectedly relieved. While the magistrates were in debate in one place, and the generals were in debate in another, and while the people, collected in every street and market-place, were murmuring at their fate, and shouting against those who had brought it upon them, the news suddenly reached us, that a deputation from the Parliament of Paris had arrived at the gates, offering to negotiate a treaty between the defenders of Bordeaux and the besieging force. Every one caught gladly at the idea; a suspension of hostilities was immediately granted, and deputies both from the city and the generals returned with the Parisians to the town of Bourg, at which place the whole Court was assembled. The Queen, timid and vacillating, did not understand or believe how completely the city was in her power. Mazarin, unwilling to bring upon himself the overwhelming odium of destroying such a number of the noblest families in France as were then cooped up in the city, did not press for any hard conditions; and I rather suspect that the MarÉchal de Meilleraie, having a great number of friends amongst the besieged, rested satisfied with feeling that he had the city in his power, if he were forced to proceed, without making known the full advantage of his situation to those who might have been inclined to use it ungenerously.

The result, however, was, that the truce was extended to six days, and that during that time negotiations were carried on, which terminated in a treaty of peace, infinitely more favourable than the defenders of Bordeaux could have hoped or expected. It was agreed that full and free pardon should be given to all the inhabitants of the town, into which the Court should enter, unaccompanied by any other troops than an ordinary guard; that the Princess de CondÉ and her son might retire in safety to Montrond, and that a general pardon should be given to all the other persons concerned directly or indirectly in the resistance offered by the city to the royal forces, upon the sole condition that the leaders should solemnly pledge themselves never to bear arms against the King again.