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 fyxmll Hmrmitg pibatg 
 
 Presented to the Department of Romance 
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Cornell University Library 
 PS 2544.P5B4 
 
 Before the dawn :a story of Paris and th 
 
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Cornell University 
 Library 
 
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 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
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BEFORE THE DAWN 
 
 A STORY OF PARIS AND THE 
 JACQUERIE 
 
 BY 
 
 GEORGE DULAC^i^s^,^ 3 "i 
 
 NEW YORK & LONDON 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 
COPYRIGHT BV / 
 
 P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 
 1887 
 
 Press of 
 P. Putnam's Sons 
 New York 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 At the distance of several leagues from Paris, on the 
 edge of the forest of Ermonne, stood a cottage built of 
 logs, turf and clay : a miserable dwelling, the home of a 
 peasant, that is to say of a despised creature, a wretch 
 derisively called Jacques Bonhomme. Let us enter. 
 We see a rude table formed of slabs, two stools, on which 
 are seated a man and a woman, a heap of straw in one 
 corner serving for a bed, and a hearth on which smoulders 
 a feeble fire, whose smoke escapes as best it may through 
 an open hole in the roof. 
 
 On the clay floor are crouched three or four small chil- 
 dren with wan pinched faces ; for hunger is here, here 
 within easy reach of the game that crowds the forest. 
 What prevents the miserable wretch from taking his bow 
 and shooting one of the deer that come fearlessly to his 
 very door, from snaring the hares that frisk about in the 
 neighboring thickets ? What compels him to endure the 
 sight of his famishing children, who stretch out their 
 hands and ask for food ? This prevents him ; death, or 
 his right hand stricken off, if he is detected in the act of 
 killing the game that belongs to the nobles ! 
 
 Are these the thoughts of this man as he slowly raises 
 his head ? Perhaps so ; but other thoughts are working in 
 the mind of the peasant Guillaume Callet to-night, as he 
 
2 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 rises to his feet and takes down a rusty hunting spear 
 from the wall. 
 
 "Where art thou going, Guillaume," asks his wife, 
 " not to the forest ? " 
 
 " Why not? " he answers roughly. " I am hungry, thou 
 art hungry, our children cry for food. Yonder is food for 
 all, why then should I not take it ? " 
 
 His face has taken on a determined expression, and 
 there is a sullen look in his eyes as he speaks, while he 
 impatiently dashes aside the mass of coarse black hair 
 that falls over his forehead. The woman began to weep, 
 and fell on her knees. 
 
 " Get up, Joan," said her husband ; " I am not going to 
 the forest now; dry your eyes and fear not that I shall 
 lose my hand. I have better use for it," and he strode out 
 of the hut, followed by the sobs of Joan and the cries of 
 the children. As he walked on with drooping head, he 
 might have been taken for an evil spirit, so black was his 
 brow, and so ferocious was the expression of his mouth 
 and eyes : but he looked neither to right nor left, as, 
 with his short spear in his hand, he walked with long and 
 stealthy strides down the slope that led to the river. 
 
 It was a beautiful night ; the summer breeze rustled 
 through the branches of the trees that overhung the 
 stream, and the water gleamed silver-like in the moon- 
 light. In the silence of the evening one could hear the 
 distant belling of the stags, and the occasional note of a 
 night bird came floating out of the depth of the forest. 
 The air was soft and cool as it touched the cheek of this 
 man, who paused midway down the slope, and gazed 
 eagerly before him. It was not the beauty of the scene 
 that impressed him, for his eyes were intently fixed upon 
 a level space of ground near the river bank. In the 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 3 
 
 centre of this plain rose a huge heap of stones, and as he 
 strains his eyes he sees that this pile of stones is sur- 
 rounded by men, and that others are moving toward it 
 from every direction. Certain of this, he plunges for- 
 ward again and does not stop until he reaches the place, 
 and is greeted by a hundred peasants who have gathered 
 there. 
 
 There is no noise, or shouting, or confusion : it is evi- 
 dently a preconcerted meeting, and each man as he 
 arrives seats himself upon one of the stones, or on the 
 ground, and waits. 
 
 One by one come the peasants, until we see before us 
 fully two hundred of them. They are men of all ages, 
 from the old man to the beardless youth : men of every 
 variety of feature and form, and yet there is a singular 
 resemblance to be observed between them. None walked 
 with a free and upright bearing; all moved as though 
 bowed down by an actual, material weight. It was the 
 inherited burden of centuries of oppression that rested 
 upon them, an ineffaceable brand, a bodily curse. Their 
 faces were more varied. Some had a hopeless look, as 
 though long endurance had taught them to submit with 
 sullen resignation to their fate ; others were overcast 
 with gloom, as though black thoughts were revolving in 
 their minds ; some expressed hope, others fear, and many 
 a reckless unconcern. 
 
 Physical pain furrowed the brows of some, and famine 
 glared from the eyes of scores of these despised slaves, 
 who had gathered by the banks of the beautiful Marne, 
 to listen to the words of Callet whom they looked up to 
 as a leader. 
 
 He does not hesitate, but standing on a broad flat 
 stone above the groups that surround him, and in plain 
 
4 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 sight of all, he addresses them in words that rivet their 
 attention. There is no shouting, no applause, but a 
 breathless silence, as Guillaume Callet relates the history 
 of their wrongs, and describes their condition of misery. 
 
 He asks why they should belong to the nobles ; whether 
 they are trees or stones that they must still cling to the 
 ground where they were born, and pass from the bondage 
 of the dying Seigneur to that of his heir; why they 
 should be compelled to toil day after day, and receive no 
 wages ; why, when their harvest was ready to gather, they 
 should be forced to leave it to perish, because their lords 
 required their services, and released them when their 
 grain was ruined. Why should they submit to the corvee, 
 and why should the pigeons of the Seigneur fatten on the 
 scanty harvest of the peasant ? why must the peasant take 
 his grain to the mill of the Seigneur, and his flour to his 
 oven ? why should all the fish in the river, and all the 
 game in the forest belong to the noble, and who gave him 
 the right to put the peasant to death, if he should snare a 
 pheasant to make broth for his sick wife ? Why should 
 they pass their lives in bondage and misery ; in misery of 
 hunger, and cold, and nakedness, while their lords dwelt 
 in comfort within their castle walls, while they feasted on 
 the fat of the land, and drank the richest wines ; while 
 they clothed themselves in silk and velvet, and cloth of 
 gold, and never knew what it was to shiver in the cold 
 wind, or to lack food. 
 
 Why had God made them, if they must be slaves! had 
 He given them life only that it might be spent in the ser- 
 vice of the Seigneurs, who gave them nothing in return, 
 not even protection ? 
 
 " Oh, my brothers ! " cried Callet, " what is left to us 
 but despair ! let us die then, but let us first be revenged 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 5 
 
 on our Seigneurs ! They are cowards, for the foreigners 
 have overcome and beaten them like slaves. But you 
 say that they have better weapons than we, and armor 
 and horses that we have not. Well, then, let us take them 
 with our naked hands. Fire will consume their strong 
 houses; let us gather fagots and burn them! What can 
 we suffer more than we do now ! is death worse, my 
 brothers ? No ! for it is only a moment's pain ; fear it 
 not ; follow me boldly, and we will tear down these rob- 
 bers' nests ; we will plunder the nobles of their gold, and 
 silver, and rich garments. We will tear the soft robes 
 from their wives and daughters — they shall be as naked 
 and defenceless as our own ; we will do to them as they 
 have done to us. Yes, yes : we will put our coarse hands 
 on their white necks, we will smear their soft cheeks with 
 the blood of their husbands and brothers, and we will 
 tear them limb from limb! We will be as pitiless as 
 they have been ! it will be our turn ; they have done so to 
 us, why should we not do so to them ? Only cast away 
 fear, follow me, and we will have our fill of revenge ! 
 
 " Brothers, the time has come ! never had we such an 
 opportunity before. The Seigneurs are frightened by the 
 English ; many have been killed, more are prisoners, and 
 if they are released, we shall have to toil the harder to 
 pay their ransoms. Why should we' rivet the chains 
 around our necks ? Let us join hands then and swear 
 that we will have revenge ! " 
 
 While speaking, the countenance of Callet had ex- 
 pressed all the ferocity of a tiger, mingled with the cun- 
 ning of a wolf ; the black thoughts that filled his heart 
 were only half visible in his words, but his face portrayed 
 them, and they were reflected in the faces of those who 
 listened to him. All their brutal instincts had been 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 awakened by the words of Callet, and the effect was seen 
 in the convulsive working of their features. 
 
 It was easy to believe that when the opportunity came, 
 these peasants would not be restrained. No thought of 
 God, no fear of punishment, no reverence for beauty or 
 innocence would curb their brutality : they had heard 
 words, that, sinking deep into their hearts fell into fertile 
 soil and would speedily bring forth fruit. 
 
 A fortnight after this secret assembly, the peasants, led 
 by Callet, attacked the Castle of Ervanne, murdered its 
 defenders and committed such horrible outrages that it 
 is impossible to describe them. After plundering the 
 building they set fire to it, and departed with their 
 booty to a fastness they had prepared in the forest, 
 where they remained in readiness to make a second 
 foray. 
 
 An opportunity soon presented itself, and several un- 
 protected castles were attacked, burned, and their inhab- 
 itants tortured or butchered without mercy. At the 
 news of his success the peasants flocked to the side of 
 Callet, and his followers soon numbered several thou- 
 sands of ignorant and ill-armed, but desperate men. 
 The nobles were at first so surprised at these daring acts 
 that they were stupefied ; but quickly rousing themselves 
 they began to take measures for the safety of their fami- 
 lies. A great number of ladies were sent to the city of 
 Meux which had been strongly fortified by the Dauphin 
 Charles ; all the neighboring gentlemen were summoned 
 to assist in suppressing this unexpected rising, and they 
 determined to inflict summary punishment upon the 
 peasants. In the mean time the latter grew bolder, and 
 availing themselves of the armories of the plundered cas- 
 tles roamed the country — sometimes in bands, sometimes 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. "] 
 
 with the semblance of an army. A strange, hideous army 
 it was, composed of these savages with unkempt hair and 
 beards, low foreheads and treacherous eyes ; with their 
 brawny limbs arrayed in ill-assorted pieces of rusty 
 armor, which was more of an impediment than a defence 
 to them ; armed with weapons to whose use they were 
 not accustomed, a hideous and wolfish army : but they 
 had succeeded in striking terror into the hearts of the 
 nobles for a moment, and made good use of the time. 
 The whole country between the Marne and Oise, to the 
 very gates of Paris, was overrun and desolated ; every- 
 where rose the smoke of burning castles, and from every 
 side came the shrieks of the helpless victims of the 
 peasants. The forests of Armanvillier, of Lagny and 
 Crecy afforded them a refuge, and to those dense shades 
 they withdrew after having glutted themselves with blood 
 and plunder. But their chief stronghold was in the 
 forest of Ermonne, near the spot where they had held 
 their first assembly : here it was that Guillaume Callet 
 had his lair, and from this spot he directed the furious 
 attacks of his followers, dividing them into bands, or 
 uniting all when a strong place was to be assailed. 
 
 He had brought his wife and children to this retreat, 
 as had many of the peasants, and having built them- 
 selves a number of rude huts, they returned to them 
 after each successful raid and gave themselves up to the 
 wildest revelry. It is here that we find Callet one night, 
 about a month after the first rising of the peasantry. 
 Dressed in armor, but without the helmet, with a red 
 scarf tied about his waist and a huge mace in his hand, 
 he is giving judgment upon a few unfortunates who have 
 been taken alive. His justice is swift and bloody ; all 
 that is necessary for him to know is whether the captive 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 belongs to the hated class of the oppressors. Satisfied 
 of this, he dashes his mace upon the block that serves 
 for a table, and at this sign the condemned is led out- 
 side the hut and instantly put to death. There is no 
 sympathy at this tribunal : no thought of mercy, no 
 time given for the consolations of religion, no human 
 shrinking from death, or at the sight of blood. All is 
 inexorable, hard, pitiless. Even the women and children 
 seem to take pleasure in the sight of the hot blood, as it 
 springs from the headless trunk at their feet. Is it not the 
 lite-blood of one of those who have trampled them in the 
 dust ; who have taken the food from their mouths ; who 
 have torn the struggling daughter from the mother, and 
 laughed at the misery of their violated homes 1 Why then 
 should they care, unless it were to rejoice at the sight ? nor 
 was it unnatural that Joan should laugh as one of her 
 children ran into the hut, with a piece of cloth that he 
 had steeped in blood and then wound about his waist, in 
 imitation of his father's red scarf. 
 
 "So, child," she exclaimed, " thou beginnest early ; that 
 is right — that is brave ! " and the boy walked about the 
 room proud of his badge, and learning to familiarize 
 himself with blood. 
 
 The poor Joan whom we saw crouching in rags before 
 her smouldering fire, is now transformed : clothed in silk, 
 and with a velvet mantle, a hood with a heron's plume 
 on her head, she flaunts backward and forward, never 
 weary of looking at the sheen of the silk and feeling its 
 softness. This little settlement was full of these women, 
 arrayed in the spoils of castles from which the noble 
 ladies had fled in haste, leaving everything behind, 
 fortunate indeed if so they had escaped. The men, 
 gathered together in motley groups, also presented a 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 9 
 
 singular and grotesque appearance, wearing here a 
 hauberk, and there a helmet; and many with rich cloaks 
 thrown over their almost naked bodies. Some were 
 armed with sword and dagger, and some with bows, but 
 more with clubs and knives. As Callet sat in his hut, he 
 thought with exultation of the changes he had accom- 
 plished, and of those he would yet make ; he reflected 
 with pride that it was his hand that had caused the de- 
 struction of so many fair castles : he had made good his 
 promises — he, and those that followed him, had eaten 
 and drunk their fill ; they had gratified their passions ; 
 the nobles had felt the hand of the people, and since 
 they would not do the people justice, they should perish. 
 
 " Yes," exclaimed Callet, " they shall die ; not one shall 
 live, except to be a slave ! Ho, Jacques," he cried to a 
 tall fierce looking fellow who that moment came in, car- 
 rying an axe dripping with blood. " Ho, Jacques — we 
 have had rare sport to-day ! " 
 
 "Yes," replied Jacques, flinging his axe upon the 
 ground, '' and we will have plenty more before we finish 
 with these proud Seigneurs, brother." 
 
 " That we will, Jacques ! More, more ! Come, let us 
 drink! " and leaning their elbows on the table, they tossed 
 off cup after cup of wine, growing more talkative and 
 merry after each draught. 
 
 "Art not weary of serving thy master so many 
 years, Jacques?" said Callet. "Art not weary of toiling 
 in summer and winter, with never a dMer at the end to 
 keep thee warm ? " 
 
 " Yes, brother, but that is ended now, and the Seign- 
 eurs shall toil for us. Were it not fair, brother, if we 
 should make them our slaves ? " 
 
 " Yes, Jacques, but we must first kill as many of them 
 
10 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 as we can, for they are too strong for us." 
 
 " Let us kill them, Guillaume, until so few are left that 
 we can take them for bondslaves ! " 
 
 " That would be a good revenge, brother. By the horns 
 of the devil ! we will live in their castles, we will wear 
 their fine raiment, we will ride on their horses, and drink 
 their wine." 
 
 "Ho, ho!" laughed Jacques, "and they shall live in 
 our huts, and be clothed in our rags, and drink water from 
 the ditches as we have done. Yes, brother, they shall 
 toil for us without payment and we will beat them and 
 flay them alive if they try to escape. Ho, ho ! it is but 
 just ; so they have done to us, so will we do to them ! " 
 
 " But first we must kill more of them ; do not forget 
 that, Jacques." 
 
 " No, no, Guillaume, my axe is ready, and it is thirsty ! 
 See, it is not rusty yet." 
 
 " It shall be, brother, for we have more work before us, 
 and we will have more hands to help us, too." 
 
 " Yes," said Jacques, " another band came in to-night." 
 
 " Good ! how many have we now, brother ? " 
 
 " About eight thousand — here, and at the other places." 
 
 Callet thought a moment. " 'Tis almost enough to at- 
 tack Meux," he said, " and if the Provost sends us help, 
 we shall succeed." 
 
 " What, brother, will the Provost join us then ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Callet, " for the nobles hate him and 
 seek to overthrow him ; he promises to aid us." 
 
 " Ho, Gillaume, that is good news ; but what said you 
 about Meux ? it is a strong place, and you know there are 
 knights within, and men-at-arms." 
 
 " Yes, Jacques, and know you what besides ? " 
 
 " No, brother." 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. II 
 
 "I will tell you,-' said Callet, with a diabolical look. 
 " The lord Regent has sent his wife there, and she has 
 taken with her all of her ladies ; and many of the Seign- 
 eurs have sent their wives and daughters to the city for 
 safety. By the devil, there will be rich booty ! " 
 
 " The fiend aid us, Guillaume ! but if we fail, there 
 will be bloody work." 
 
 " But we will succeed, Jacques ; think only of that ! 
 and then what will the proud nobles do ? Will they not 
 roar for mercy ? Ho, ho ! we can make our own bargain 
 with them, brother ! " 
 
 For a long time they continued to talk, drinking mean- 
 while such huge quantities of the fiery wine, that they fi- 
 nally succumbed to its influence, and after vain attempts 
 to remain on their seats, sank upon the floor and resigned 
 themselves to the stupor that overpowered them. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 While the surrounding country is overrun by the infu- 
 riated peasants, Paris is divided and uncertain — a volcano 
 which the slightest thing may startle into irruption. The 
 minds of men are tossed on a sea of doubt. A breath 
 may incline them this way or that. 
 
 Recollection of their misery in the past, dread of the 
 future, idleness, poverty, hunger : these were the grim phan- 
 toms that sate by thousands of hearths, that filled the 
 minds of the ignorant, the brutal and the desperate with 
 thoughts that seethed and bubbled in their hearts, and 
 only waited for an opportunity to break forth in deeds of 
 violence. 
 
 Yes, one might see that here, as in the country, men 
 were dissatisfied and ripe for mischief. 
 
 But in the country the peasants were united ; all suf- 
 fered in the same degree, and were alike desperate, while 
 many conflicting parties met in Paris. There was danger ; 
 the temper of the mob was ominous, but it was still 
 within control. There was sympathy for the peasants in 
 their revolt, sympathy for them even in the excesses they 
 had committed. Their desire for revenge was echoed by 
 many who would gladly have joined them in their work of 
 robbery and murder, but these were held in check by the 
 more sober citizens, who had interests of property at stake, 
 by the police of the city, and by the authority of the Town 
 Council. 
 
 Therefore, Paris still shut her gates against the bands 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 13 
 
 of peasants, and refused to give them countenance or as- 
 sistance. 
 
 Various parties were represented tlien in the crowd that 
 surrounded the house of the Provost of the Merchants, 
 one afternoon in the early part of June, 1358. 
 
 There were men who had left their homes in the narrow 
 streets that opened on the rue St. Martin, and on the 
 quays ; from the crowded courts of la Cit^, and students 
 from their dormitories on the left bank of the Seine. 
 There too were millers from the Pont des Moulins, butch- 
 ers from the Grand Boucherie, and tanners from their 
 quarter hard by the Hotel Dieu — all glad of a pretext to 
 escape from the suffocating atmosphere of their dwellings, 
 and the unsavory odors that arose in clouds from the reek- 
 ing alleys. All had been drawn thither to learn, if possi- 
 ble, the result of the meeting of the town council, which had 
 assembled to decide upon the action of the city, and the 
 attitude to be taken toward the insurgent peasants. 
 
 It was known that some of the council openly favored 
 and would give them assistance, while others were vio- 
 lently opposed to this course ; and the crowd that pressed 
 around the house, waited impatiently to learn whether the 
 city was to espouse the cause of the nobles or people. 
 While waiting, they amused themselves according to their 
 various humors. Students might be seen striding about 
 with an air of reckless indifference, swinging their long 
 sticks and singing snatches of songs, not too refined. 
 Rival apprentices jostled each other, and fought for the 
 honor of their respective masters : laughter and curses re- 
 sounded on every side, though some men there were 
 whose faces were grave, and wore an expression of anxiety, 
 as they waited for the appearance of the burgher council- 
 lors. 
 
14 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 In the mean time the shadows lengthened, and the 
 evening breeze swept the fresh air along the Seine. The 
 bells of Notre Dame rang out, hushing into silence those 
 who listened to them with a feeling of awe, as though re- 
 buked by the voices of another world. At this moment the 
 door opened, and the council came forth, passing silently- 
 down the steps, and through the crowd. As they disap- 
 peared the people began to shout : " The Provost ! The 
 Provost ! " In answer to their cries, Etienne Marcel 
 presented himself, and demanded : " What would you of 
 me, citizens? " 
 
 " No war ! no taxation ! bread for our children ! down 
 with the nobles ! " shouted the mob. 
 
 " You ask many hard things," said Marcel. " How can 
 I give them to you ? We have no war now. Bread ! we 
 must all earn it with our hands. Taxation ! has not 
 the Regent refused to relieve you of it ? Have not I, 
 at the risk of my life, petitioned him to grant you re- 
 lief ? Have I not taken your part against the nobles ? " 
 
 Cries of " Yes, yes 1 " were heard, but, motioning for 
 silence, he continued. " Bread cannot be cheap while the 
 fields lie waste and untilled ; and they will be waste so 
 long as the nobles make war. Would you join the 
 peasantry and destroy the Seigneurs?" " Yes, yes ! No, 
 no ! " resounded on all sides. " But, citizens," said Mar- 
 cel, " your council has decided that you must not join 
 the peasants ; we must shut the gates against them. Ask 
 me no more, citizens. Since the Regent abandons us, 
 we must trust in God. Go home quietly, resume your oc- 
 cupations, work with your hands, preserve the city from 
 the English and from Navarre. When the Dauphin re- 
 turns he will reward you." 
 
 Having delivered this vague address, the Provost re- 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 1 5 
 
 tired into the house, and the people slowly dispersed in 
 no very contented frame of mind. 
 
 "What has happened to the Provost," said a burly 
 butcher to his companion as they turned away. " He talks 
 of God's help now : he was not so pious when we followed 
 him into the Louvre, and made an end of the lord of Cler- 
 mont and the marshal of Champagne. Ah, that was a day ! 
 Were you there, Pierre ? " 
 
 " No, but you told me how the lord Dauphin gave his 
 gold-fringed hood to the Provost." 
 
 " Yes, yes," interrupted the butcher, " and he put the 
 Provost's hood on his own head, but by the Saints ! he did 
 not seem to be at ease ; he did not like the fit, ho ! Pierre." 
 
 " No, but it was better than not to have a head to wear 
 the hood on." 
 
 " You may say so ! that was a fine day, Pierre. The 
 floor was as red with the blood of the two Seigneurs as 
 my floor is on Saturdays, and the lord Dauphin's silk robe 
 was all bespattered with red drops, so that it would have 
 done you good to see it ! " 
 
 " That is the way we will serve all the nobles," said Pierre. 
 '' Did you mark what the Provost said just now about the 
 Regent's deserting us ? What does that mean ? " 
 
 " Why, he meant that we would have to depend on our- 
 selves, Pierre, and expect no help ; that we were stout 
 lads and must take care of ourselves." 
 
 " No such thing, lad : he meant to let us know that if 
 the Regent and the nobles will not give us what we 
 want, we must take it from them." 
 
 "Take it from them ! by the Saints, I don't under- 
 stand you, Pierre ! " 
 
 " Why, look you, these proud nobles have fine castles 
 
l6 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 and horses, and gold plates to eat from, and fish and 
 poultry and bread to eat." 
 
 " Ho ! Pierre, you make my mouth water ! but what 
 has that to do with us ? " 
 
 " Look you," answered Pierre, " what would you do if 
 you could get into one of these fine castles." 
 
 " Get my fill of meat and bread and wine, Pierre." 
 
 " Yes, but you would have to beg for it like a dog ; 
 and suppose you and I and a dozen stout lads could get 
 into one of these houses, and kill all the men, what would 
 prevent our taking all the meat and wine, and gold and 
 silver we could find ? ha ! what would hinder us? " 
 
 The butcher gazed at his companion with open mouth, 
 and gasped. "I never thought of that, Pierre. Surely 
 we could take all, if there was no one to hinder us, but 
 there would be, you know ; for these Seigneurs always 
 have plenty of men-at-arms and servants to fight for 
 them." 
 
 " Not always," said Pierre, " for the most of them are 
 away now following their masters, and there are enough 
 places where there is no guard besides the dogs and the 
 women." 
 
 " Ho ! I would soon finish the dogs ! " cried the 
 butcher. " When will we begin, Pierre ? Devil take me ! 
 it is so long since I have had anything better than muddy 
 beer to drink, that I long to find some good liquor, and 
 mayhap we shall find some casks of Bordeaux wine in 
 those same fine houses. Ho ! it makes my throat dry to 
 think of it ! " 
 
 " Well, lad," replied Pierre, " we will find them soon, 
 and you shall have your fill of Bordeaux wine, and better 
 things too, if you are bold." 
 
 Very different were the comments of the more intelli- 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 1 7 
 
 gent artisans and members of the merchant class, who 
 could not conceal their disappointment at the vague 
 words they had heard from Marcel. 
 
 They had hoped for some assurance that would stimu- 
 late and enliven trade, that would restore confidence, or 
 at least give them the hope of protection of life and 
 property. 
 
 They had hoped for bread and received a stone. Still, 
 they placed no evil construction on the reticence of the 
 Provost, and were unwilling to abandon their confidence 
 in him. 
 
 The ignorant, however, glad to seize upon any pretext 
 to gratify their hatred of the nobles, did not hesitate to 
 think that Marcel would be on their side in the event of 
 an outbreak, and indeed his previous actions and his 
 words to-day gave some coloring of reason to their be- 
 lief. 
 
 The crowd had disappeared ; night had fallen and the 
 rising moon threw a broad beam of light across the water 
 of the river as two figures emerged from the shadow of a 
 tall building near the house of Marcel, and moving rap- 
 idly toward the quay followed it for some distance, 
 until, reaching a narrow street, they entered it and stopped 
 before a hostelry. In answer to a loud knock the door 
 was partially opened and a head thrust out, while its 
 owner demanded in no pleasant tone who it was desired 
 admittance. " Open, Robert,'' was the reply. " Do not 
 stand staring as though you thought we were ghosts. 
 What! do you not remember me ?" 
 
 " Yes, my lord, but I thought you were in Champagne." 
 
 " Never mind what you thought ; you see I am here, so 
 down with your chain, Robert Bonel ! " 
 
 The head was withdrawn, and the rattling of the chain 
 
l8 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 betokened the hospitable efforts of the master of the 
 hostelry, who in a moment threw wide the door and ad- 
 mitted his evidently unexpected guests. As soon as they 
 were within Bonel proceeded to secure the door again 
 with a strong chain and a double lock, and then ushered 
 his guests into a room furnished with some benches, two 
 beds and a table. 
 
 The strangers threw off the cloaks in which they were 
 muffled rather more closely than was comfortable on so 
 warm an evening, and he who had spoken addressed his 
 companion, who was a youth of about twenty-two years. 
 
 " Well, Guy, if you are as weary as I, you will not be 
 sorry to throw yourself on one of these settles, and take a 
 little rest, while our host fetches us wherewithal to satisfy 
 our hunger and thirst. Ha ! Robert, have you one of 
 your good pasties for us to-night ? I am well nigh 
 starved, and my throat is as dry as a day in August ! 
 Fetch us food, and some of that good white wine of which 
 you boast so much." When Bonel had gone upon his 
 errand to the larder, the marquis de la Riviere flung him- 
 self at full length upon one of the wooden settles, and 
 said : " Did'st hear the speech of the Provost, Guy, and 
 how the people hung upon his words ? He is a popular 
 knave, and dangerous. Did'st mark what he said about 
 the Dauphin ? " 
 
 "Yes," returned Guy, " but the people did not seem 
 satisfied, and I thought the Provost did not wish to speak." 
 
 " No, by my faith, he would have slunk away like the 
 others, but he did not dare. By St. Genevieve, but the 
 rabble asked him some hard questions." 
 
 " Which he did not answer," said Guy. 
 
 "No, and better men than he have found those same 
 questions hard enough. By heaven ! 'tis ever the same 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 19 
 
 with these rascally knaves. Bread, bread and no taxes ! 
 down with the Seigneurs too ! These villains grow bold, 
 and need to be let blood, Guy de la Roche, for they 
 would like to exterminate us : these rats, these clods ! 
 Can'st tell ine why they hate us so bitterly ? " 
 
 " No, Marquis, not I, and they do not all feel thus. My 
 peasants are quiet and happy ; they have enough to eat 
 and drink, and I think they have an affection for me." 
 
 " Do not trust to it, Guy, for the devil is abroad in the 
 land. Curses on the English ! 'tis they have disturbed 
 everything : they beat us on every hand, and the peasants 
 are losing their confidence in us. They think because 
 some of us fled at Poitiers, that all are cowards. St. 
 Denis I if this goes on, we must give up fighting to women 
 and boys." 
 
 " I wish I had been in that battle," said Guy. 
 
 " Thank heaven you were not ; " rejoined de la Riviere, 
 " for you would then have seen our noblest chivalry dis- 
 graced. Your father fought bravely, Guy : I was close 
 beside him when he fell." 
 
 " He would never have turned his back ! " exclaimed 
 Guy proudly. 
 
 " I believe you, for braver knight never drew sword." 
 
 " And you were taken prisoner. Marquis, were you not ? " 
 
 The marquis ground his teeth as he replied. "Yes, but, 
 by heaven ! I was taken sword in hand, and yielded me 
 to a knight, and not to one of those base-born yeomen, as 
 some did, whose gentle blood should have taught them to 
 die, rather than to yield to such ignoble varlets. Ah, 
 Guy, the sun will never shine brightly on France again, 
 until the memory of that day is cleansed in the blood of 
 the English. We have learned a lesson, but we should 
 have learned it ten years ago ; for at Crecy it was those 
 
20 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 same villanous long bows that won the day for Edward. 
 And yet like fools we thought we could charge up that 
 narrow lane at Poitiers, and recked nothing of the thick- 
 set hedges that concealed the bowmen, who plied their 
 devilish shafts so thick. Double fools that we were, to 
 entangle ourselves in such a net ! Ah, Guy, your father 
 saw the fatal mistake, and if he had lived, perhaps he 
 could have extricated us ; but we had no leader, and when 
 lord Chandos set his men upon our flank, all was lost, 
 a panic seized the men-at-arms ; they threw down their 
 swords and let themselves be butchered like calves." 
 
 "That was a sad day for us all. Marquis. But have 
 you heard news of the king, and of how he fares ? Does 
 not the matter of his ransom drag ? " 
 
 "Yes, Guy. The English would have us dismember 
 France, and the king will not have his freedom at such a 
 price." 
 
 " He has a gallant spirit, has he not, Marquis ? " 
 
 " Yes, he is a true and blameless knight, and misfort- 
 une cannot crush his heart.'' 
 
 " Will the Dauphin be able to stand against the English 
 if war is renewed ? " asked Guy. 
 
 " I fear not," said the marquis. " It is useless for us 
 to meet them again in the open field, until we have recov- 
 ered from the spell of terror that seems to be upon us. 
 We must pursue another policy. This is my counsel to 
 the Regent, and the Cardinal Bishops both support me. 
 So does de Savoisy. When the truce expires, we will 
 refuse all offers of battle." 
 
 " What," said Guy, " not meet them in the field ? " 
 
 " We must not, Guy ; another defeat would destroy us, 
 and the English would be masters of France. I tell you 
 that the fiend has woven a spell about us, and we can- 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 21 
 
 not Stand against the invader ; and yet," continued the 
 marquis, " it is not because our nobles are not so brave 
 as of old, but because they have been astonished and 
 terrified so that they have no longer confidence in them- 
 selves. We must have patience until they recover from 
 this fright ; until they see that the English are not gods or 
 devils, but men who can suffer from hunger and thirst, 
 and who can be killed. We will annoy them, we will 
 starve them, hang about them like gadflies. We will 
 destroy their convoys, and cut off their detachments ; 
 we will weaken them in every possible way, and you will 
 see that we will gradually destroy them. But above all 
 we must learn to think of them as mortal men, no 
 stronger, no more skilful, no braver than we. This is the 
 lesson we must learn before we rid France of this 
 swarm of locusts that devours the land." 
 
 Guy de la Roche listened attentively, but with some 
 dissatisfaction, to this speech. 
 
 It seemed to him that it would be an unworthy act to 
 refuse a fair defiance, to avoid an offered battle. His 
 blood rebelled at the thought of submitting to the taunts 
 of an enemy, for he was too young to fully understand 
 the wisdom of this Fabian policy, and he did not realize 
 that it was this high spirit and hot blood, that had hurried 
 the nobles to their destruction at the fatal battles of Crecy 
 and Poitiers. " Never," he cried, " the Dauphin would 
 never command us to refuse to fight ! My dear Marquis, 
 you are too brave to be ■ willing to follow such a course. 
 You who have fought so bravely since the commencement 
 of these wars." 
 
 " For that very reason I have learned wisdom, " replied 
 de la Riviere, " and we must follow this policy, however 
 hateful it may be to us ; there is no other way now. But 
 
22 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 enough of this subject. When are we to have our sup- 
 per ? Hollo, Robert ! hollo, I say ! What the devil 1 " he 
 exclaimed, as Bonel came in, " Do you have your larder 
 chained up as well as your door > One would say that 
 you do not put much faith in the Provost's police, ha ! " 
 
 " These be evil times, my lord," said Bonel, who now 
 placed some food upon the table. " These be evil times, 
 and it becomes every man to guard his house. There be 
 so many prowlers abroad that my chain is none too strong 
 to keep them out." 
 
 " Well, Robert," said the marquis, making a ravenous 
 attack upon the viands, " and so you were surprised to see 
 me to-night." 
 
 " Yes, my lord, for I thought you were far enough from 
 Paris." 
 
 " The count de la Roche and I have been making a 
 little visit, and I must be gone before morning. See that 
 you speak not of seeing me here." 
 
 " No living soul shall know of it from me, my lord." 
 
 "Very well. I shall stay here until near daybreak, 
 Robert, and hark ye, if I should knock again, do not be 
 so long about undoing your chain. Faith, one would sup- 
 pose you were guarding some famous treasure I Have 
 you grown rich in Paris, that you barricade your doors in 
 this fashion, Robett ? " 
 
 " No, no, my lord ! how should I be rich ? what with 
 bread so dear, and game and poultry so hard to get, and 
 wine above price since the last battle, and the bad money, 
 and these students who roam the city in bands. 'Tis 
 needful enough, I trow, to lock the door against i^m, my 
 lord, for an a half a dozen of them smell the steams 
 from your kitchen, you had as well try to feed a pack of 
 wolves 1" 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 23 
 
 " Ha, ha ! So these gentlemen have good appetites, 
 Robert ! " 
 
 " Holy Virgin ! " exclaimed Bonel, lifting his hands, " it 
 was only last Thursday, my lord, I was in the kitchen 
 when I heard a loud thump as though a tree had fallen 
 against the side of the house, and when I looked out there 
 were ten of those scholars pounding on the door with 
 their big clubs and shouting out that they were hungry. 
 Saint Martin ! They looked hungry enough, I warrant 
 you ! " 
 
 " Did you let them in ? " said Guy de la Roche. 
 
 " Heaven forbid, my lord. I would as lief have let in 
 a pack of devils ! Let them in ! I bade them go carry 
 their hungry stomachs to the Provost." 
 
 "I.hopeyoudo not often treat your guests so, Bonel, 
 for if you do may our Lady defend the poor traveller," 
 said Guy, smiling. 
 
 " Oh, no, my lord, but that is the reason why I keep 
 the strong chain my lord marquis blames me for." 
 
 " I understand, Bonel, you examine the applicants be- 
 fore you give them admission." 
 
 " Yes, my lord, and when I spy a student with his 
 uncombed beard and his big club I shut the door fast 
 in his face. May the Holy Virgin protect me from 
 them, for they eat like the mill hopper and drink like 
 the sea, and if they get in here more than once in a 
 year I am a ruined man." 
 
 The marquis and Guy laughed heartily at Bond's dis- 
 like for the students, and the former asked, " What have 
 these scholars done to you, my good fellow ? methinks you 
 have some reason for hating them so roundly. Come 
 now, have they never so sharp appetites they must be 
 
24 BEFORE THE DAWN, 
 
 satisfied at last and they pay you in good money I sup- 
 pose." 
 
 " If they would only do that," replied Bonel, " it would 
 not be so bad ; but they haggle over the price of a bowl of 
 wine, and pay for it in bad money if they can, as I know 
 to my cost, for I had taken four livres from toumois them 
 before I found that they were all light weight : and then, 
 my lord, if my wife waits upon them they are ever chuck- 
 ing her under the chin, or trying to put their arms about 
 her waist. Yes, and one of them kissed her, the villain ! " 
 
 " And did your good Susanne object to such treatment, 
 Robert!" said the marquis laughing. "She used to be 
 a comely girl. Faith, I remember her red cheeks and 
 black eyes." 
 
 Bonel hesitated a little, " Well, my lord," he said slowly, 
 " I think sometimes that Susanne looks at the men too 
 much, but she means no harm ; and she was angry 
 enough." 
 
 " I thought you had some good reason for hating these 
 gentlemen of the University, Robert. Well, chain up 
 your door, my good fellow, keep an eye on Susanne, and 
 if any man puts his arm about her waist put you your 
 gripe on his throat." 
 
 " That I will, my lord," said Bonel, " and right good 
 will have I to choke the breath out of the body of that 
 same red bearded scoundrel who kissed Susanne 1 " 
 
 " Do so, Robert, never flinch from him, man. Ha ! I 
 am glad to see that this tavern life has not quenched 
 all your spirit." 
 
 " Never trust me, my lord," replied Bonel, " if he does 
 not feel my fingers on his windpipe if he ever shows his 
 ugly face at the Cerf Blanc again ! " 
 
 The marquis, who began to grow weary of the domestic 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 2$ 
 
 troubles of his host, now intimated to him that he wished 
 to be alone, and Bonel, wishing the gentlemen a good night, 
 withdrew, still muttering threats against the red bearded 
 violator of Susanne's lips. 
 
 The young count de la Roche had listened with much 
 amusement, though wondering at the acquaintance of the 
 marquis with an obscure inn-keeper, and as soon as they 
 were alone, he inquired who Bonel was. 
 
 The marquis explained that he had been in his service 
 for many years, until, finding him anxious to open a hos- 
 telry, he had given him the means to do so when he mar- 
 ried Susanne, a pretty girl with whom Robert had been 
 madly in love. " I have no doubt the jade leads the poor 
 fellow a merry dance," said the marquis with a laugh ; 
 " for she knows well how to attract the men with her big 
 black eyes, and I fancy that master Red Beard's caresses 
 were not so unwelcome to her as to her husband." 
 
 "That would account for his rage," said Guy, "and 
 the learned Red Beard may look to himself, for if our 
 host meets him, there will be broken heads." 
 
 "Well, Robert is no coward," rejoined the marquis, 
 " and can take his own part with club or dagger. Now, 
 my dear Guy, you will not forget the instructions I have 
 given you, and remember that the Dauphin is bestowing 
 upon you a weighty trust. You must rally about you all 
 the loyal citizens and communicate with all the nobles 
 who still remain in the city. I trust not this false Pro- 
 vost and think he means to assist the peasants and give 
 up the city to Navarre, and you must find means to foil 
 him. Methinks the best part of the citizens will be for 
 the king and the Dauphin when it comes to the test, but 
 you must organize them and prevent the treachery that 
 the Provost meditates." 
 
26 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 "Hike not the task, my lord," replied the count. 
 
 " Think not so, dear Guy, for 'tis not ignoble to per- 
 suade men to remain true to their duty and allegiance, 
 and this will be your task. Be cautious, do not let your 
 hot blood get the better of you. 'Tis not because you 
 are not brave, that I have selected you for this, but be- 
 cause I think you bear some of your father's wisdom in 
 your young head ; and i£ you save Paris for the Dauphin, 
 Guy, that will be no unworthy deed." 
 
 "I shall do my best. Marquis," replied the count, 
 and having arranged some necessary details, they threw 
 themselves on the beds and were soon in a sound 
 slumber. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 ' After the departure of the marquis, Guy de la Roche 
 found himself in a perplexing situation. He was sensible 
 that a great trust had been placed in him in confiding to 
 him the duty of drawing together the loyal party in Paris, 
 and yet he would have preferred to serve the royal cause 
 in another way. There was no alternative, however. The 
 height to which the peasant revolt had grown, demanded 
 that speedy and effectual measures should be taken for 
 its suppression, and while the nobles undertook this task, 
 it was equally important that Paris should be prevented 
 from giving assistance to the rebels. 
 
 The councillors of the Regent Charles knew that the 
 city was wavering, and they had resolved to make an 
 attempt to unite the law-abiding citizens, and to form an 
 organized resistance to the plots of those who were 
 inflaming the minds of the rabble. If open treachery were 
 attempted, they believed the citizens would resist it, and 
 their design was to discover whether the Provost really 
 meditated treason, and if so, to prevent his carrying it 
 suddenly into execution. It was with this end in view 
 that count Guy de la Roche had been sent to Paris, much 
 against his will indeed, but yielding to the persuasions of 
 the marquis de la Rivifere, who had been his father's 
 dearest friend, and who had the greatest influence over 
 him. 
 
 The estates of count Guy lay to the north-west of 
 Paris, a region that had not been affected by the rising of 
 
 27 
 
28 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 the peasants, and it was hard for him to realize that these 
 men, whom he had always seen respectful and submissive, 
 should have the temerity to revolt against the rule of the 
 nobles. It is true that he treated his serfs and peasants 
 kindly, not allowing them to be oppressed, and providing 
 for their comfort in many ways, but it never occurred to 
 him that it was his duty to do this, and if the condition of 
 his peasantry was better than that of others, it was 
 because he took pride in having it so, rather than because 
 he thought himself under any obligation to treat them 
 kindly. 
 
 When the news of the insurrection along the Marne 
 reached him, he felt all the indignation and horror nat- 
 ural to one of a superior caste, when learning that his 
 home has been polluted by an inferior being. He hast- 
 ened with de la Rivifere to the camp of the Dauphin, 
 eager to join in the pursuit and punishment of the 
 wretches who had dared to rebel against their rightful 
 lords. But he had been immediately ordered to accom- 
 pany the marquis to Paris, and the latter was desired to 
 explain to him the necessity of placing all good citizens 
 on their guard, if they wished to prevent the city from 
 falling into the hands of the king of Navarre, whom 
 Marcel had liberated from prison. The Dauphin was 
 naturally incensed at the conduct of the Provost. The 
 outrage against himself could scarceiy be forgiven, and 
 the blood of the murdered marshals of Champagne and 
 Normandy cried aloud for vengeance, while the humili- 
 ation he had undergone in having the Provost dictate 
 reforms, could not easily be forgotten. It was not 
 strange that Charles should feel little confidence in 
 Etienne Marcel, whose influence with the people had 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 2g 
 
 grown so great that he was the actual master of Paris. It 
 was only natural that he should distrust and fear him. 
 
 It was upon these things that count Guy reflected 
 earnestly, as he sat in his room at the Cerf Blanc ; but 
 the more he pondered the more confusing were the diffi- 
 culties that presented themselves to him, until, hoping to 
 forget them, he took his sword and throwing on his 
 cloak descended the stairs, where he found Bonel 
 engaged in an animated discussion with his wife Susanne, 
 a red-cheeked dame whose plump figure and large black 
 eyes confirmed the description he had received of her 
 from the marquis. Making his way into the narrow 
 street, he followed it to the quay, where he found himself 
 at once in the midst of a throng of people. 
 
 He was not a stranger in Paris, although he usually 
 chose to live at one of his Chateaux where he was at lib- 
 erty to devote himself to the pleasures of the chase, and 
 of falconry, to which he was ardently attached. 
 
 His education had not been neglected, for he had 
 been taught to read and write both in French and Latin ; 
 accomplishments sufficiently rare at that day. His father 
 had also taken him some years before to Italy, and they had 
 visited Milan, Florence and Venice. The latter city had 
 made a wonderful impression upon the mind of the youth. 
 The splendor of the ducal court, the refinement and luxury 
 that he witnessed, were revelations to him, and being 
 gifted with an observing mind and a strong imagination, 
 he had stored his memory with many pleasant recollec- 
 tions. As he walked on, he could not avoid comparing 
 Paris with those cities he had visited. For the high, nar- 
 row dwellings that fronted the river bore little resem- 
 blance to the stately palaces that lined the grand canal, 
 up to whose sculptured entrances one ascended by flights 
 
30 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 of noble steps ; from whose balconies one might watch 
 the water gleaming in the sunlight, and see the gondolas 
 darting back and forth. The waters of the Seine could 
 boast of a few fishing boats from Rouen, some sloops 
 freighted with vegetables and fruit : but how poor and 
 barren in comparison with the proud galleys of Venice, 
 laden with the merchandise of the world. The oranges, 
 lemons and figs of the Mediterranean isles ; the wines of 
 Cyprus, the precious marbles and porphyry of Greece, 
 the rare and lovely work of beaten gold from Constanti- 
 nople, silks from China, and Persian carpets ; while India 
 sent her fabrics of cotton, damasks, cloth of gold, spices, 
 perfumes, pearls and gems. It was doubtless an unwise 
 commencement of his mission, to lose himself in such a 
 reverie ; but it was rudely interrupted by a familiar voice. 
 
 " Why, my dear Count, whither are you going so fast 
 without saluting your friends ? " 
 
 The speaker, a young man of about Guy's age, was 
 richly dressed in the fashion of the period, though his 
 undergarments were almost concealed by his mantle of 
 black velvet slashed with crimson which fell nearly to his 
 feet. The latter were encased in long pointed shoes, and 
 under the folds of his cloak might be seen the hilt of his 
 sword, a dagger with a curiously carved handle, and the 
 embroidered belt that supported them. On his head he 
 wore a hood of black satin fringed with gold, and the face 
 that looked out from under it was a very gay and good- 
 humored one, as its owner, the vicomte d'Ervand, seized 
 the arm of count Guy, and the two friends strolled on 
 side by side. 
 
 " I am delighted to see you, Henri," said the count, " I 
 have just arrived and have met no one as yet. Can you 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 3 1 
 
 tell me whether there are many gentlemen at present in 
 Paris ? " 
 
 " No,"' returned d'Ervand, " there are but few here, for 
 nearly all followed the Dauphin when he left the city, and 
 others have gone to join the marquis de la Riviere, who 
 is gathering a force to put down the peasants, though you 
 should know that better than I. By my faith ! I should 
 have gone also, but to say truth there is a charming 
 damsel here — " 
 
 " To whom you have lost your heart I suppose," inter- 
 rupted Guy. " Well, does she return your fiame ? " 
 
 " No, by St. Genevieve ! though I have sworn by all 
 the gods and goddesses that she shall ! but what can I 
 do, since I do not know her, and must fain content 
 myself with vows that she cannot hear, and glances that 
 she refuses to return. Peste 1 'tis too hard to worship at 
 so distant a shrine, and I begin to think I must console 
 myself elsewhere. There be nymphs enough who would 
 gladly smile on me, I trow ! " 
 
 " Never be so faint-hearted, Vicomte. She will relent 
 at last." 
 
 "I doubt it much," rejoined d'Ervand, "for a whole 
 week, by St. Genevieve 1 have I paced the street under 
 this window, and never so much as a smile will she give 
 nie for my pains. Ha ! yonder is my fair lady ; — is she 
 not lovely. Count?" 
 
 Glancing up, Guy saw a young girl seated near a win- 
 dow that overlooked the river. She was indeed lovely, 
 but the young count had only time to see the flash of a 
 pair of eyes that seemed to him of deepest violet hue, 
 and a wealth of golden brown hair that gleamed through 
 the net-work that confined it, ere the fair owner drew 
 back from the window to the interior of the apartment. 
 
32 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 "She is charming, Vicomte," said Guy. "Do you 
 not know her name ? " 
 
 " Not I, and since she disdains me thus, I forswear her, 
 and abandon her to her fate ! " 
 
 " Not a hard one, I hope," said Guy, laughing. 
 
 " O, no, only that she may sometime regret having 
 scorned the devotion of the vicomte d'Ervand. I wish 
 her no greater punishment, and so farewell to my dream. 
 What, shall I go fight the peasants, Guy, and wilt thou 
 go with me ?" 
 
 " Nay, I cannot," replied the count, " though I wish it 
 were possible. But I must stay here. " 
 
 " Adieu then, dear Guy, and if time hangs heavy on your 
 hands, go pay your devoirs to my scornful beauty. Who 
 knows, perhaps she may smile on you." 
 
 " Perhaps I may take you at your word, Vicomte." 
 
 "All the better," said he, "you have my permission;" 
 and laughing gayly, the young meti parted. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Day after day passed by, and count Guy still remained 
 uncertain as to the best means of accomplishing his mis- 
 sion. The nobles who remained in Paris would willingly 
 have joined him in an attempt to overthrow the Provost 
 of the merchants, whom they detested. But they were 
 too few to make head against the formidable party that 
 supported Marcel, and would have disdained to act in 
 concert with the bourgeoisie. The young count soon 
 determined that it was upon the latter he must depend ; 
 and one of those fortunate accidents which chance some- 
 times throws in our way, procured for him the acquaint- 
 ance of a man of the people, who soon proved himself 
 both willing and able to aid him. This man was Fran- 
 gois Maillart, a wine-merchant, a member of the burgher 
 council, well known and held in high esteem by all. 
 Through Maillart, count Guy became acquainted with 
 some of his friends : goldsmiths, armorers, tanners, deal- 
 ers in wool and cloth ; and he found many of them to be 
 men whose views had been widened by travel, by inter- 
 course with the cities of Brabant and Flanders, by study 
 of the methods followed in the industrial establishments 
 of Ghent, Bruges and Ypres, where they had learned that 
 industry and skill are the sources of wealth and that war 
 is fatal to the successful carrying on of trade. 
 
 Others had visited Italy and Spain, and among the 
 former the count found some who had been surprised and 
 delighted, as he himself had been, with the Italian cities 
 3 33 
 
34 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 where there existed a culture and refinement so superior 
 to their own. He was astonished to find here a class of 
 men who could comprehend and sympathize with him ; 
 who had the same pride in their country ; who assured 
 him that they felt no hatred of the nobles, that they had 
 no desire to demand unreasonable privileges, and only 
 wished to be protected, and to carry on their business 
 unmolested. 
 
 He perceived that if they were allowed to pursue their 
 way in peace, if they were not oppressed by taxes and 
 forced loans, here was the beginning of a new source of 
 wealth and power for France ; and he determined to use 
 all his influence in their favor. Having thus shown that 
 count Guy had begun to recognize estimable qualities in 
 a class of men that he had been taught to think con- 
 temptible, let us enter the shop of the worthy Maillart. 
 
 It is evening, and we find him giving some instructions 
 to one of his assistants. 
 
 " See that the iron shutters are well fastened, Pierre," 
 he said, " and make haste, for supper is waiting, and 
 mother Maillart doth not like to have the soup grow cold" ; 
 then after casting a careful glance about the well-stored 
 shop, he ascended the stairs to the rooms above. While 
 Pierre finishes his task, we will take the liberty of ex- 
 amining his face, which is without a beard, and is far 
 from handsome : a retreating forehead is overhung by a 
 shock of colorless hair ; his nose is small and shapeless, 
 like a lump of dough flattened against his face; his 
 thick protruding lips are not prepossessing, and his pale 
 blue eyes are restless in their stealthy, sidelong glance. 
 In a worfl, Pierre is a treacherous looking fellow. He is 
 not a Frenchman, but a Fleming whom Maillart had 
 found one day perishing of hunger and to whom, pitying 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 35 
 
 the forlorn condition of the stranger, he had given food 
 and shelter, until, finding him quick to learn, he had 
 taken him into his employment. As he was always at his 
 post and performed his duties satisfactorily, his master 
 had hitherto had no reason to be dissatisfied with him ; 
 but he had noticed of late that Pierre cast many glances 
 at his daughter Jeanne, who, however, did not receive 
 them with any favor, but quite the contrary. Her cold 
 demeanor only served as fuel to the flame that had be- 
 gun to burn in the breast of Pierre, who, finding that his 
 advances met with no encouragement, relapsed into a 
 sullen and silent admiration. All this was not under- 
 stood by the good merchant, but it had not escaped the 
 watchful eye of mother Maillart who had never liked or 
 trusted the Fleming. She had spoken to Jeanne about 
 his behavior, and was glad" to see that she shared her dis- 
 like and aversion. In the mean time as Pierre confined 
 his attentions to glances that were withdrawn as soon 
 as he saw that they were observed, she did not speak 
 to her husband, who, as we have said, had only begun to 
 suspect the admiration of which his daughter was the ob- 
 ject. Having finished his preparations for the night, 
 Pierre followed his master whom he found already seated 
 at the table with his wife and daughter. The former 
 was an honest-looking woman with keen dark eyes that 
 rested proudly on Jeanne, a maiden of perhaps eighteen 
 summers. Maillart too looks fondly upon her, as she 
 assists her mother in the duties of the table, and Pierre 
 also steals a sidelong glance at the pretty figure, dressed 
 in a close fitting robe of fine gray cloth, open sufficiently 
 to show the contour of a finely moulded throat and neck. 
 Her hair is confined by a silver net, and her large brown 
 eyes are full of merriment, as she replies to the jests of 
 
36 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 her father upon her fine appearance. " My girl," said 
 he, " where got you that fashion of binding your hair ? in 
 silver, too ! why you extravagant hussy, do you think that 
 fine gray cloth at four livres the yard and silver nets 
 grow in the streets ? " 
 
 " I know not, father," rejoined Jeanne, " I will look to- 
 morrow, for truly I must have a new kirtle, must I not, 
 my mother ? " 
 
 " Why, child," replied her mother, " you had a new kir- 
 tle but last Easter." 
 
 " Yes, I know, but that is a long time ago ; oh, a very 
 long time. Yes, I must go to-morrow and see if they 
 grow in the streets as my father says." 
 
 " I said not that child," replied her father, laughing, 
 " only whether you thought such things might so easily be 
 found. Do you not know that money is scarce, and trade 
 ruined ? how then can I buy all these gewgaws for thee ? " 
 
 " I knew that money was scarce and that trade was 
 ruined last Easter too," answered Jeanne with a little 
 pout, " and yet I got a new kirtle then." 
 
 " And the gray dress and the silver net and the fine 
 hose and many other things as well," said her mother; 
 "but we will look at the old kirtle to-morrow, my dear, 
 and if you really need another — " 
 
 " Why, you will buy it for your little Jeanne, will you 
 not ? there, I knew you would not refuse me ! " and the 
 impulsive girl sprang up, kissed her mother, and was back 
 in her seat in a moment. 
 
 Maillart looked at his wife and laughed. " So she 
 twirls us about her fingers," he said. "Well, well, she is 
 a good daughter, thank God." 
 
 " Have you never a kiss for me, mistress Jeanne ? " he 
 said, as they rose from the table. 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 37 
 
 Placing the tips of her fingers on her father's ears, 
 Jeanne drew down his head and kissed him on the mouth. 
 " There," said she, " now am I to look on the trees for 
 my new kirtle ? " 
 
 " No, no, child," cried he, laughing; "only spare my 
 ears, and you shall have all you ask." 
 
 Pierre had looked on at this scene in sullen silence, 
 and as he now prepared to leave the room his master 
 said : " What ails you to-night, lad, that you cannot speak 
 a word or smile ; art sick ? " 
 
 " No, master, but these are ill times for smiles or merry 
 words, though mistress Jeanne doth make light of lack 
 of trade and gold." 
 
 "Thank God," said Maillart, "she hath no need to 
 know that there is lack of either ; and a smile and a jest 
 hurt no one, Pierre. Trouble not yourself about the bad 
 times, my lad ! God will send better ! " 
 
 " Or the devil send worse," muttered Pierre as he 
 withdrew. 
 
 " Aha ! my fine mistress," he said, as the door closed 
 behind him, " be you so proud, forsooth ? Mayhap it will 
 not be long before you will be glad enough to have me 
 speak to you 1 Aye, and to give me those kisses you 
 make so free with to others ! " 
 
 " I like not that young man," said mistress Maillart- 
 " Did you hear him mutter under his breath as he went 
 out ? " 
 
 " Come, wife, the lad is not so much amiss," returned 
 Maillart. " Yet, if you cannot abide him—" 
 
 They were interrupted by Pierre himself, who returned 
 to say that a messenger was below. 
 
 " Who is it ? " asked the merchant. 
 
 " He says that he comes from the Provost, master." 
 
38 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 " Open the door then, Pierre, and show him the way- 
 hither." 
 
 A moment later the messenger appeared, and after 
 saluting mistress Maillart and Jeanne, said that he was 
 sent by the Provost, to ask whether master Maillart 
 could go to his house, as he wished to see him upon 
 business of importance. He answered that he would 
 go immediately, and taking leave of his wife and kissing 
 Jeanne, he followed the messenger to the shop below, 
 and desiring Pierre to light a torch the three were soon 
 upon their way. Arrived at the Provost's house, Maillart 
 ordered Pierre to wait, and the fellow who had taken 
 the message, after admitting the merchant to the Pro- 
 vost's room, retired with Pierre with whom he seemed 
 to be well acquainted. 
 
 Marcel greeted Maillart cordially, saying, " Friend 
 Fran5ois, I hope you will not take it ill that I sent for 
 you instead of going to your house ; but I feared we 
 would be interrupted there, and 1 have much to talk of 
 with you : tell me, Frangois, how does mistress Mail- 
 lart, and is little Jeanne as pretty as ever? it is long 
 since I have seen them." 
 
 " You know that you are always welcome at my house, 
 Etienne," replied the merchant, " but of late you seem to 
 have forgotten your old friends." 
 
 " No, Frangois, yet it is true that cares have pressed 
 upon me and I have but little time to spend in friendly 
 visits ; but," he continued, sighing, " the public business 
 presses heavily upon me and the people look to me to 
 give them cheap bread. My God ! how unreasonable 
 they are ! As though I could do such a thing ; I, who 
 am but a man, and no worker of miracles ! " 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 39 
 
 " Can you not show them how foolish such demands 
 are, Etienne ? " 
 
 " I do, I have, Francois, but they will not listen, and 
 say : ' Well, then, if you cannot make food plenty and 
 cheap, at least give us permission to go and take it.' " 
 
 " What do they mean ? " asked Maillart looking keenly at 
 the Provost. " What do they mean by taking it ? would 
 they break into the shops of honest bakers ? would they 
 force their way into Ihe houses of thrifty citizens and 
 take what these have earned by their industry ? and if 
 they did this, would it be of service to them ? They would 
 live in plenty a week, a month, and then would be more 
 miserable than before ! is it not so ? " 
 
 " Yes, Fran9ois, I do not deny it, but this is not what 
 they want : they have no quarrel with honest merchants ; 
 they do not wish them any harm." 
 
 " How then can they get bread without work," said 
 Maillart, " for these idle crowds that rove the streets and 
 raise such a clamor are not fond of honest labor." 
 
 The Provost hesitated a moment ; he saw that his 
 companion did not or would not understand him, and 
 meant to force him to speak more plainly : then he 
 said, " Francois, we are old friends, and I asked you to 
 come hither to-night, because I know you are a man of 
 sound judgment, and one who speaks the truth ; you 
 are very popular among the merchants, too, and know 
 the feeling that exists among them. I mean to confide 
 in you, and tell you plainly that the people demand that 
 I should allow them to give assistance to the peasants. 
 They say they are dying of hunger, and that since the 
 peasants have risen, they may as well join them, and 
 have a share in the spoils of the nobles ; they urge me 
 
40 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 to open the gate and let them go forth and join Guil- 
 laume Callet. Now, Frangois, tell me your opinion." 
 
 " First, tell me whether this is all they ask," said the 
 wine-merchant. 
 
 " All ! what do you mean, Francois ? " 
 
 " Do they not ask you also to open the gates that the 
 peasants may come in ? " continued Maillart. 
 
 Marcel's eyes fell before the steady look of the mer- 
 chant. " And if they do," he said slowly, "what then, 
 Frangois, what harm could they accomplish ? " 
 
 " Do you ask such a question, Etienne ? what harm ! 
 such, forsooth, as they are doing now in the country : rob- 
 bery, outrage, murder ! " 
 
 " You are too timid," said Marcel, " these poor people 
 would not injure their friends." 
 
 "Etienne Marcel," said Maillart earnestly, "you deceive 
 yourself ; for I would be loth to believe that you would 
 willingly give the city over to a band of wolves who 
 would raven and destroy as they listed. You have 
 asked me to tell you the truth, and I say now to you, 
 Etienne, that if you send aid to Callet, if you allow the 
 peasants to enter the city, you will estrange every good 
 and loyal citizen from you. Do not think they will 
 tamely submit to be robbed and murdered, do not think 
 they will allow you. Provost though you be, to admit 
 this drove of wild beasts ! You asked my opinion, I 
 have given it." 
 
 Marcel listened attentively, but a flush spread over 
 his face at these plain words : he was evidently oifended, 
 though he strove to conceal it as he answered : " You 
 make too much of this, Frangois, and I thought you had 
 more confidence in me. What, do you suppose I would 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 41 
 
 do aught injurious to the city ? you should know me 
 better." 
 
 " I have always defended you when men spoke ill of 
 you, Etienne. I am not given to suspicion, but I would 
 gladly have you assure me that you do not think seri- 
 ously of this." 
 
 " Have no fear, Frangois," said the Provost, rising 
 and laying his hand familiarly on Maillart's shoulder. 
 " So, then I have enemies 1 and what evil do they say 
 of me, old friend ? " 
 
 " I like not to repeat it, Etienne, but they say that you 
 receive messengers from the king of Navarre." 
 
 The Provost started, but controlled himself as he 
 replied. " And what harm in that, Frangois ? I receive 
 messengers from many others also." 
 
 " Aye, but it is whispered that you would fain deliver 
 Paris up to the king." 
 
 Marcel's face changed at hearing himself abruptly 
 charged with a design that he supposed to be a profound 
 secret, and for a moment he was at a loss for a reply. 
 His change of feature and hesitation were not lost upon 
 Maillart, who sighed as he took the hand of the Provost. 
 
 " Ah, Etienne," he said, " be careful ; do not rashly 
 throw away the esteem of all thy friends, of all good men. 
 Draw back while there is yet time ; do not let false am- 
 bition and pride hurry thee forward to certain destruc- 
 tion." 
 
 Marcel, who had by this time recovered his self-pos- 
 session, answered with a smile, — " But, old friend, thou 
 must not heed these lying tales : believe them not I say, 
 but trust me ; no citizen has the good of Paris more at 
 heart than I. Do not dream that I would do anything 
 so foolish or so rash as thou hast said. Look not so 
 
42 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 sober, Fran9ois, believe thy old friend. Aba ! I like to 
 see thee smile again 1 Well, I am beholden to you for 
 your good advice, and will follow it. Kiss pretty mis- 
 tress Jeanne for me, Frangois, and say to your wife that 
 I shall go soon to crush a cup of her good mulled wine 
 with you." 
 
 Maillart then took his leave, and calling Pierre to 
 fetch his torch, proceeded homeward. As he walked 
 along he reflected upon the conversation he had just 
 held with Marcel. He was very unwilling to believe 
 that the latter harbored treasonable designs, but his con- 
 duct forced him to that conclusion, and he was not de- 
 ceived by his protestations ; for he had not failed to 
 observe his embarrassment when told that he was sus- 
 pected of a correspondence with the king of Navarre. 
 He reluctantly admitted to himself that the Provost's 
 actions had not been those of an innocent man, and he 
 felt certain that he had not been entirely truthful. 
 
 It was with sincere regret that he found his former 
 friend so changed. " It is the admiration of the rabble,'' 
 he said to himself, " that has intoxicated him : he has lost 
 his head, and perhaps he even dreams of following the 
 example of Van Arteveld. Surely, Etienne must have 
 lost his senses if he thinks he will be able to restrain 
 this turbulent mob, and upon what else can he rely, if he 
 really means to prove a traitor ; not upon good citizens, 
 and the nobles hate him. Yes : he is lost if he pursues 
 this course, for the peasants will be crushed. Even the 
 king of Navarre would join his cousin the Regent long 
 enough to destroy them, and after this is done, the 
 nobles will turn upon Etienne, and nothing can save him. 
 Well, I have warned him, and if he persists in this folly, 
 his ruin must be on his own head." 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 43 
 
 Such were the thoughts of the honest wine-merchant as 
 he followed Pierre through streets where the feeble light 
 of their torch was barely sufficient to prevent their stum- 
 bling over heaps of stones and rubbish that obstructed the 
 way, or from falling into the pools of stagnant water that 
 were more frequent than pleasant. They were occa- 
 sionally met by some of the Provost's watch, which par- 
 tially patrolled the city, or by a band of students swag- 
 gering along in search of the adventures they delighted in ; 
 and woe to the unfortunate citizen who failed to make 
 way for them. It was an easy task for them to seize and 
 strip him, and after ducking or beating the poor wretch, 
 to dismiss him with a quantity of good advice, and numer- 
 ous admonitions to remember and respect the privileges 
 of the students of Paris. Maillart however had learned 
 by long experience not to oppose these gentlemen, and 
 whenever a group of them appeared, he instructed Pierre 
 to wait quietly until they passed by, and to pay no atten- 
 tion to their rude badinage, and thus they reached their 
 own door in safety, a thing to be thankful for by any one 
 obliged to be abroad at night in the streets of Paris, in 
 the year of grace, 1358. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 The more he reflected upon his interview with Marcel 
 the more uneasy did Maillart become ; and he finally de- 
 termined to call together some of his friends and consult 
 with them in regard to taking some steps to restrain the 
 Provost ; but before doing this, he wished to inform the 
 count de la Roche of his intention. Upon the first op- 
 portunity, therefore, he set out for the Cerf Blanc, and 
 having reached the rue St. Denis was about to turn 
 toward the quay when he was startled by hearing the 
 clash of swords, and by perceiving at' a short distance in 
 front of him, two noblemen engaged in a desperate strug- 
 gle. As he came up one of them received a thrust in 
 the shoulder and fell ; when his antagonist, sheathing his 
 sword, turned about and disappeared. Such duels were 
 so frequent that they attracted but little attention, and 
 those who passed by merely glanced carelessly at the 
 fallen man, not stopping to ask whether he required as- 
 sistance or was dead. Maillart however impelled by 
 curiosity or by a feeling of humanity, paused, and seeing 
 that the man had fainted only, was bending over him 
 uncertain what to do, when to his surprise he saw count 
 Guy coming toward the spot, followed by Lanard. 
 
 " I am glad to see you, my lord," said the merchant, 
 rising, "for here is a gentleman badly hurt I fear. I was 
 on my way to your lodging when I saw him fall." 
 
 " I think he has fainted," said the count, glancing at 
 the wounded man; and then looking more attentively 
 
 44 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN, 45 
 
 he exclaimed : " By Heaven ! it is d'Ervand. Here, 
 Lanard, lift up the vicomte's head while I examine his 
 wound. I do not think the hurt is dangerous," he said, 
 after a moment, " but we must carry him to my lodging 
 and send for a physician immediately." 
 
 "My lord," said the wine-merchant, "my house is not 
 far away, and perhaps it would be well to take him there, 
 for my wife is a famous nurse, and I would be glad to be 
 of service to a friend of yours." 
 
 " That is kind of you, my worthy sir," rejoined the 
 count, " for the Cerf Blanc is a noisy place and Susanna 
 hath no time to play the nurse ; but see, the bleeding has 
 stopped and he begins to open his eyes." In truth the 
 vicomte was recovering from his swoon, and was nat- 
 urally surprised to see Guy standing over him. 
 
 " Ha, Guy," he said faintly, " how came you here and 
 where is the baron ? By St. Martin ! that was a devilish 
 thrust : am I much hurt, my friend ? " 
 
 " No, I think not," answered the count. " The sword 
 went into your shoulder, but a surgeon and a good nurse 
 will cure you speedily. Now you must let us lift you, for 
 this kind merchant says we shall take you to his house 
 which is not far away." 
 
 As the vicomte was too weak to make any objec- 
 tion to this proposal, they prepared to lift him, but Mail- 
 lart was so awkward that the wounded youth could not 
 suppress a groan. 
 
 While all this was taking place, a few persons had 
 gathered about the spot, and one of them noticing Mail- 
 lart's clumsy effort to lift the vicomte came forward, say- 
 ing : " Good master merchant, you are not used to sword 
 thrusts, and know not how to handle a man who has had 
 four inches of cold steel in his shoulder. Let me lift his 
 
46 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 head, so ! " and suiting the action to the word, he as- 
 sisted Lanard so skilfully that d'Ervand gave him a look 
 of gratitude. The stranger was a tall, slender fellow with 
 a florid complexion, merry blue eyes and a reddish beard. 
 He wore the dress of a student, and as he and Lanard 
 bore the vicomte carefully toward the merchant's house, 
 he began to talk with the man-at-arms as though he had 
 known him all his life. 
 
 Lanard was not slow to respond to the friendly sallies 
 of the good-natured student, and by the time they 
 reached Maillart's house they were in high good humor 
 with each other. Mistress Maillart received the party 
 with good nature, and made the wounded youth. as com- 
 fortable as possible, while the count despatched Lanard 
 in search of a physician. The student received the thanks 
 of the gentlemen for his timely assistance, and accepted 
 a cup of wine, which he pronounced to be worthy of Bac- 
 chus himself. He then accompanied Lanard, whom he 
 promised to guide to the house of a physician of marvel- 
 lous skill in curing all manner of stabs and slashes. 
 While the two proceeded in search of a physician, the 
 merchant seized the opportunity to talk with the count in 
 regard to his interview with Marcel. 
 
 The count approved of his plan, and requested him to 
 acquaint him with the result of his conference with his 
 friends. " If they are willing," he said, " to prove their 
 loyalty, you may tell them that I am empowered by the 
 Regent to take measures to restrain the Provost and 
 guard the city. Impress upon them the necessity of their 
 agreeing upon a definite course of action ; tell them that I 
 shall depend upon them alone, and that if they are will- 
 ing to follow my directions, I have no doubt of being able 
 to foil the designs of the Provost. Let each merchant 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 47 
 
 count those upon whom he can rely; let lists be made, 
 and let each man answer for a certain number of follow- 
 ers determined to guard the gates, and resist the mob 
 until we can receive assistance from the Regent. You 
 see that I confide in you, master Maillart, and I rely on 
 you to aid me with your influence." 
 
 The merchant was astonished to hear the count speak 
 so decidedly and with so much determination, and his 
 reply betrayed the surprise he felt. 
 
 " It was a difficult task to entrust to one so young as 
 you, my lord, but I well know the reputation of the mar- 
 quis de la Riviere, who has given the Regent wise coun- 
 sel ere this, and I think he was not mistaken in sending 
 you here, though you be so young ; such help as I can 
 give shall be freely yours, and in truth what you propose 
 is wise and sensible." 
 
 " I trust it will succeed, but indeed the success of this 
 plan depends mostly upon yourself, master Maillart, for it 
 is you who must persuade the citizens to guard their in- 
 terests and defend the city. No easy thing, I fear." 
 
 " Well, my lord," returned Maillart, " we shall see ; 
 and as soon as I have news I will send you word." 
 
 " Be sure you send a trusty messenger, good Maillart, 
 for if the Provost hears of this, it will only hasten his 
 treachery." 
 
 " I will use caution, my lord." 
 
 "Very well ; let us go now and see how the vicomte is 
 coming on." They found that the physician had arrived 
 and dressed the wounded shoulder which he declared 
 would be as well as ever in a week or two at most. The 
 count then asked his friend how the affair had begun, 
 and who was his antagonist. 
 
 " It was the baron de Roye," replied the vicomte. 
 
48 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 " You do not know him, Guy, he is a friend of the king 
 of Navarre, and I know not what he is about here in 
 Paris, but could swear it is no good purpose that draws 
 him hither." 
 
 " How did your quarrel begin," asked count Guy. 
 
 " I must tell you. first " said the vicomte, " that the 
 baron de Roye is no friend of mine, though I have met 
 him often at the chateau of Pierrefont, where we sometimes 
 hunted together. He has a fair estate near Soissons, and 
 spends much time in the chase, for he is well versed in all 
 forest craft, and he has a curious knowledge of all kinds 
 of birds, and breeds some of the best sakers and gerfal- 
 cons in all France. Well, the baron hath a crafty spirit, 
 and is so passionate, that if he can, he will be openly re- 
 venged on any one who does him an afEront, but he 
 scruples not to lie in wait for an enemy and take him at 
 unawares ; and since he hath entered into such great 
 friendship for Navarre I care not for his company, yet 
 I could not courteously refuse to walk with him after he 
 saluted me : and so we went along together, and began to 
 speak of matters of the chase, and he told me of a young 
 falcon that had stooped on a crane, the like of which he 
 never saw before. And as we were talking thus pleasantly 
 together, and had stopped while he described the fal- 
 con's flight, and how he struck his quarry, an old man 
 came up behind us, and was going softly by ; but when 
 the baron saw him, he swore a great oath, and darting 
 forward seized him by the neck and began to pull him 
 about and beat him with the hilt of his dagger so that it 
 was a shame to see. I cried out to him to hold his hand, 
 and asked why he beat the old man; and he left off 
 striking him, but still held him fast, while he said to me : 
 ' 'Tis an old villain who hinders me from seeing the 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 4g 
 
 lady whom I mean to wed, for whenever f seek admit- 
 tance to her house, this old wizard has her servants make 
 fast the door ; but by Heaven ! I will fasten a stone about 
 his neck, and my men shall drown him like a dog as he 
 is ; ' and he fell to beating him again." 
 
 " Now I recognized the old man, for I had seen him 
 sitting with the lady whom I told you of before." 
 
 "The scornful lady in the house by the river," said the 
 count. 
 
 " Yes, Guy, and although she looked so proudly on me, 
 I thought it would be only worthy of a knight to protect 
 her servant, or her physician, for he looked not altogether 
 like a servant, — and so I bade the baron cease abusing 
 him, for it was shameful to beat a feeble old man. With 
 that he let him go, muttering that although her servant 
 escaped him, yet should not the lady, for he would carry 
 her off by force. Then we both drew our swords, and 
 while we were fighting the old man escaped. I was 
 pressing the baron hard, when my foot slipped and he 
 wounded me." 
 
 " What a villanous thing for the baron to do ! " ex- 
 claimed the count." 
 
 " It was so," replied d'Ervand, but I will punish him 
 for it." 
 
 " But you must first get well, Henri, and by my faith, 
 I hope you will do so as fast as possible, for I need your 
 assistance. Do you think," continued the count, " that 
 de Roye will attempt to carry off the lady as he 
 threatened ? " 
 
 " I believe he will, Guy, for as I told you he will not 
 scruple to do anything to accomplish his ends." 
 
 " Perhaps I can prevent him," said the count ; " I would 
 be sorry to have so fair a lady fall into his hands against 
 4 
 
50 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 her will, and "if I meet the baron I will avenge you, my 
 dear Vicomte." 
 
 " Thank you, Guy ; yet be upon your guard, for he is 
 treacherous, and then it may be that he is here to nego- 
 tiate with the Provost on the part of Navarre." 
 
 " Ha ! " exclaimed the count. " I thought not of that; 
 but, by Heaven ! I must seek him out and discover whether 
 he holds communication with Marcel ; for if he doth, by 
 my faith the Provost is a traitor. Now I must leave you, 
 but you will be well cared for here, Vicomte. I have 
 found this Maillart a most worthy man, and have confided 
 my plans to him ; you may trust him, and I do not doubt 
 that you will soon learn to esteem him." 
 
 " What, Guy, have you made a friend of the wine-mer- 
 chant ? By St. Genevieve ! that is droll." 
 
 " I am not ashamed of it," returned the count, "and I 
 tell you that you will find him a kind and sensible man; 
 yes, and by my faith, far more intelligent too than most 
 of our nobles." 
 
 " I never thought to have heard Guy de la Roche de- 
 fending the bourgeoisie," said d'Ervand, laughing. 
 
 "Never mind, Vicomte, I am much mistaken if 
 before your wound is healed you do not agree with me ; 
 but I must stay here no longer or Lanard will wonder 
 what has become of me, and will be searching the streets. 
 So, then, adieu. I leave you to the worthy Maillart — be 
 considerate of his feelings, my dear Henri." 
 
 " Yes," replied the vicomte, with a laugh, " I will for 
 your sake." 
 
 In the meanwhile Lanard, having despatched the phy- 
 sician to the aid of the wounded vicomte, was in no 
 hurry to return to the inn, and began to stroll about the 
 town in company with his new acquaintance, the student. 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 5 1 
 
 Crossing the bridge of Planche Mibrai, they amused 
 themselves by exploring the city ; and the student, whose 
 name was Jean Rolin, proposed to his companion that 
 they should cross to the University. This, however, 
 Lanard declined to do, saying that it would take too much 
 time, and they turned back. As they passed near la Citd 
 palace, Rolin asked the man-at-arms whether he had ever 
 been within the walls. 
 
 " No," said Lanard " but it must be a fine place ; I 
 would like well to see it." 
 
 "'Tis impossible now," replied Rolin, who then 
 launched forth into a description of the marvels to be 
 seen there — the enormous guard-room, the chambers 
 hung with tapestry, the narrow winding stair-cases that led 
 to the top of the group of round towers before them, the 
 room in which the lord of Dampierre had lived so long 
 the captive of Philip the Fair. Here he was interrupted 
 by Lanard, whose eye was attracted by the graceful spire 
 of the Sainte Chapelle, and who asked whether the 
 interior was as beautiful as one would judge from the deli- 
 cate open work of the tower. Rolin declared that the 
 pictures which adorned the walls, and the windows of 
 stained glass were a poem, and after telling his com- 
 panion that within the chapel was preserved our Saviour's 
 crown of thorns, he began to relate some of the legends 
 of the saints whose lives were represented there. Lanard 
 listened attentively, and if he did not place entire confi- 
 dence in the truth of these tales, he at least appeared to 
 do so. Rolin then led the way to a tavern where they 
 seated themselves, and the student striking his fist upon 
 the table demanded wine. While they drank, Lanard 
 told his new friend that he was staying at the Cerf Blanc, 
 and asked whether he knew the place. 
 
52 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 " That I do, comrade," was the reply, " and by the 
 bones of St. Victor ! they have good wine at that same 
 inn ; but the landlord does not like us of the University, 
 and shuts the door against us." 
 
 " Why does he so ? " asked Lanard. 
 
 "Faith," said the student, laughing, "the knave hath a 
 pretty wife, and is jealous as the devil ; you should see 
 him, comrade, when he comes in suddenly, and finds 
 three or four of us jolly fellows drinking to the health of 
 the fair Susanne." 
 
 " He likes it not, then, friend Rolin ? " 
 
 " You are right. Ha, ha ! You should have seen him 
 one night when I was there ; I was in a merry mood, and 
 Susanne stood so close beside me, that it was the most 
 natural thing in the world for me to put my arm around 
 her ; ha, ha ! good master Robert looked as black as a 
 thunder-cloud." 
 
 " And how about Susanne ? " 
 
 " O, she cared not, not she," returned Rolin, twisting 
 his beard, "but she pretended to be angry, ha, ha! the 
 hussy will drive Robert mad some day, and yet she is a 
 good-hearted girl, and I think not she would play him 
 false ; only she knows she is pretty and likes to be ad- 
 mired." 
 
 " That is but natural and I do not blame her for it,'' 
 said Lanard ; " 'tis every pretty woman's right you know, 
 comrade, and if Bonel is jealous, the worse for him." 
 
 " You and I agree exactly, friend Lanard : 
 
 Fair women and fair wine, 
 We worship at their shrine. 
 
 Aha, my noble follower of Mars, will we not twine gar- 
 lands for all the divinities, but especially for Venus and 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 53 
 
 Bacchus ! " and he began to sing, beating time with his 
 cup upon the table. 
 
 The student was certainly a votary of Bacchus, as 
 Lanard began to perceive ; for he had not ceased to toss 
 off huge draughts of wine, and one cup succeeded another 
 so fast, as to quite take away the breath of our more tem- 
 perate man-at-arms. Accordingly he rose and after 
 giving Rolin a hearty invitation to visit him at the Cerf 
 Blanc, left him to finish his carouse alone. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 While the vicomte was exchanging blows with the 
 baron de Roye, the old man who had been the innocent 
 cause of their contention, escaped. He made his way 
 slowly along the street, groaning as he went, for the blows 
 he had received had not been light, and he still felt 
 the pressure of the brutal baron's gripe upon his throat. 
 At last he reached a house whose narrow, pointed win- 
 dows overlooked the Seine : it was massively built of 
 stone, and its low, arched portal was guarded by a heavy 
 oaken door. As the old man dragged himself painfully 
 up to the entrance a head was thrust out of a small win- 
 dow above and as quickly withdrawn. 
 
 Immediately after, the door was opened by a servant 
 who assisted the old man to enter, and instantly closed 
 and fastened the door, as though the house was a fortress 
 in a state of siege — and, indeed, it did present that ap- 
 pearance, so thick and strong were the walls, and so for- 
 bidding the aspect of the projecting front, that frowned 
 down upon the street as though bidding defiance to the 
 passer-by, instead of offering a hospitable welcome. 
 
 The old man no sooner found himself in safety, than, 
 thoroughly exhausted with pain and fright, he sank down 
 upon the stone floor and seemed about to faint. The 
 servant, alarmed to see him in such a condition, — for his 
 neck was black, and his face covered with blood, — was 
 about to call for help, but the other prevented him by a 
 gesture and said faintly : " Do not alarm your lady, I shall 
 
 54 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 55 
 
 be better in a moment. Bring me some water." Having 
 brought a basin, the servant bathed the face of the injured 
 man, whom he addressed as Master Bertrand, and then 
 helping him to his feet assisted him to gain his own room. 
 " Now leave me, Anton," said Bertrand. " These cuts 
 and bruises are not dangerous, and I can dress them very 
 well ; but look to the door, good Anton, and admit no one 
 without first calling me. I must rest, and afterward I 
 will seek the lady Yolande. Do not you alarm your mis- 
 tress, but tell her that I will wait upon her presently." 
 
 After the servant had left him, Bertrand dressed his in- 
 juries with a skilful hand, and taking a small flagon from 
 his breast, poured some drops of the liquid it contained 
 into a cup of water, drank it off, and throwing himself 
 upon a couch fell almost immediately into a profound 
 slumber, which lasted for several hours, and from which 
 he awoke feeling much refreshed. " Ah ! " he said to 
 himself, " the elixir that Guido gave me has not failed. 
 'Tis a wonderful recipe, for when the brain is overwrought, 
 or when the straining nerves quiver like needle points, it 
 bringeth sleep, the healer ! How well do I remember 
 when Guido first told me of its powers, and I believed 
 not, scoffing at him until we came to unkind words ; and 
 in my heat I seized a glass that stood beside me and 
 drank, not knowing that he had secretly dropped some of 
 the elixir in the water. Then it seemed to me I heard a 
 distant sound of murmuring streams, and it soothed me ; 
 and anon I heard the singing of the birds in Guido's gar- 
 den, and I cared no longer to talk, but listened dreamily 
 to the pleasant noises, until they grew more faint and 
 came to me at intervals, and then my lids grew heavy, a 
 strange drowsiness came over me, and I knew no more 
 until I wakened after hours of sleep and saw Guido bend- 
 
S6 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 ing over ine, and heard him ask whether I now believed 
 that his elixir would bring sleep. Then those weeks I 
 spent with him, learning day by day to comprehend and 
 reverence the wisdom he had gathered in those long years 
 which we thought he had spent in idle dreams. Well, I 
 had grace enough to admit my error, and to learn from him 
 some of the secrets he had stolen from the herbs and roots 
 and flowers ; yet I fear me much that I am unworthy of my 
 master. Strange, how it all comes back to me to-day," 
 mused the old man. " Strange, how I can almost fancy 
 myself seated again with Guido in his garden by the Arno, 
 listening to the wash of the stream against the wall, breath- 
 ing the scent of the flowers, watching the lovely cypress 
 trees sway gracefully in the wind, marking the violet and 
 orange and purple hues succeed each other in the evening 
 sky, while we talked of the brief span of life allotted to 
 mankind and how men in their eager greed for gold, their 
 thirst for power, their mad desire to gratify their passions, 
 shortened life, already brief enough. How, giving way to 
 rage and hatred and revenge, they scrupled not to pour 
 out blood in streams, paying no heed to all the pain that 
 filled the world. And then we wondered whether, in the 
 future, men would ever cease their bitter striving with 
 each other and be satisfied to live in peace until God 
 should take away the life he gave. And when the stars 
 came out, we often spoke of them and of their influence ; 
 but Guido thought they had no power for good or evil. 
 I held that each mane's destiny might be foretold by them. 
 Yes, yes : we differed sometimes, for he said that I was 
 wrong in holding that the blood should be freely let in 
 fevers, and I insisted that if the blood coursed fiercely 
 through the veins it throbbed and burned because it 
 should not be pent up, and sought an outlet. But now, 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 57 
 
 ah, now I begin to see that I was wrong. It was a 
 pleasant time ; I take delight in thinking of those days in 
 Florence. Yet, alas ! 'tis many years since then ! I hope 
 the flying years have brought me wisdom as well as these 
 deep furrows on my brow and these gray hairs. But truly, 
 I have well-nigh forgotten in my reverie that my lady 
 will expect me. Let me recall my wits, and remember 
 that I must be upon my guard against this baron de Roye. 
 Yes, he is a dangerous man, and I like not to stay here 
 in Paris alone, for I am too old and feeble to defend my 
 lady Yolande against this lord. He is most dishonorable 
 to persecute her as he does, so that she dares not stir 
 abroad and must stay mewed up here in this gloomy 
 place." 
 
 While these thoughts were passing through his mind, 
 he arranged his dress, then leaving his room, he directed 
 his steps toward the apartment of the. lady Yolande, the 
 daughter of the Sire de Coucy. 
 
 This nobleman, like many others, had taken advantage 
 of the truce made with the English to return to his castle 
 and attempt to restore order to his domains. While there, 
 he heard of the humiliating position in which the Dauphin 
 Charles was placed by the plots of the king of Navarre 
 and the presumption of the Provost Marcel. The latter 
 had headed the mob that murdered the marshals of 
 Champagne and Normandy, whose authority the king of 
 Navarre -disputed, claiming that he himself was the right- 
 ful suzerain of the counties of Evreux and Champagne. 
 It had been mortifying enough to Charles to have the 
 Provost release his rebellious cousin of Navarre, but this 
 daring murder was a deeper indignity ; so that while he 
 remained in Paris, his situation became daily more unen- 
 durable. Upon hearing of the state to which the Dauphin 
 
S& BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 was thus reduced, the Sire de Coucy summoned his vas- 
 sals, and gatliering a considerable force of men-at-arms, 
 resolved to go to Paris and free Charles from the power 
 of this bold man who dared to dictate to his sovereign. 
 
 Before he left Coucy however the Jacquerie had broken 
 out and such dreadful accounts were given of the atroci- 
 ties of the peasants, that de Coucy feared to leave his 
 daughter at the chateau. He did not know how soon 
 his own peasantry might join the insurgents, and though 
 his castle was one of the strongest in France, and he left 
 it well guarded, he determined to take Yolande with him. 
 
 Upon their arrival in Paris he found that the Dauphin 
 had made his escape and therefore concluded to leave 
 his daughter in the city with the physician, Master Ber- 
 trand, and a number of well-armed servants, while he fol- 
 lowed the Regent, to Meux. He charged Yolande to be 
 guided by Bertrand, who had lived with him for many 
 years, and in whom he had great confidence, treating 
 him more as a friend than a servant. The physician on 
 his part was devotedly attached to the lady Yolande, for 
 she was a mere child when he first entered her father's 
 service, and he had taken delight in directing her educa- 
 tion, which was very meagre, perhaps, measured by the 
 standard of the present time, but was nevertheless supe- 
 rior to that enjoyed by most of the noble ladies of the 
 day. She had not always proved a docile pupil, for she 
 was high-spirited and impatient of control, yet she appre- 
 ciated the efforts of Bertrand and certainly profited by 
 them to some extent. As she grew older she learned to 
 respect and honor the good old physician ; to feel a sin- 
 cere affection for him, and was not ashamed to treat him 
 with the deference due to his age and gentle character. 
 Anton had informed her that Bertrand had come in feel- 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 59 
 
 ing indisposed, but that when he had recovered from his 
 fatigue he desired to pay his respects to her, and when he 
 entered her apartment he found Yolande expecting him. 
 She was, however, surprised to see him with his face 
 bruised and discolored, and exclaimed, " My dear mas- 
 ter, what accident has happened to you? that knave 
 Anton did not tell me that you were hurt." 
 
 " It is nothing serious, dear lady," said Bertrand. 
 
 " Do not stand, dear master," cried Yolande, " sit 
 down on this couch, while you tell me what has befallen 
 you ; " and forcing him to seat himself, she drew up a foot- 
 stool for herself and said kindly, " Now tell me all about 
 it." He then related his adventure and Yolande was 
 very indignant at the conduct of the baron. " The base 
 knight," she exclaimed, " to maltreat my dear old master 
 thus ! Do you know, Bertrand, that I begged my father 
 to bring me with him, because I thought it a good way in 
 which to escape the persecution of the baron de Roye ? I 
 feared he would take advantage of my father's absence to 
 visit Coucy and plague me with his attentions." 
 
 " He must have discovered that we had come to Paris 
 and followed us here," said Bertrand, " and I know he has 
 been in the city for some time, dear lady, for he sought to 
 visit you, but I ordered Anton to deny him entrance : I 
 hope you are not displeased." 
 
 " No, Bertrand, you did quite right, for I think the 
 baron de Roye is a dishonorable knight, and my father 
 likes him not ; neither do I know why he presumed to 
 follow us, for I have treated him coldly ever, and espe- 
 cially since I saw him beat his falconer so cruelly, be- 
 cause his favorite bird was sick and would not fly when 
 he unhooded him. The falconer was not to blame ; he 
 did not know the bird was sick that day. Oh, I remem- 
 
6o BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 ber very well the angry look that flushed the baron's face, 
 and how his eyes grew cold and hard ! " 
 
 " He is a bad man, dear lady, and I am glad he has 
 not deceived you by his false words." 
 
 " His devotion is so ardent," replied Yolande, " that he 
 forgets himself sometimes ; for once he seized my hand 
 when I had dropped my rein, and I was compelled to beg 
 him to release it. No, no, I never liked the baron, but I 
 hate him now for abusing you, my dear master. How 
 villanous to strike you 1 how had you injured him, for- 
 sooth ? " 
 
 " He was furious because he said I had forbidden the 
 servants to admit him to the house, and declared that he 
 would have his men drown me for a sorcerer." 
 
 " He had not dared to be so insolent," returned Yo- 
 lande indignantly, " but that he knew we were alone and 
 unprotected ; but my father will chastise him for it. A 
 sorcerer ! my good old Bertrand a sorcerer ! Saint Mary ! " 
 she cried, her eyes sparkling with anger, " I would I 
 could punish him myself; he should learn that the de 
 Coucys know how to protect the followers of their house ! 
 But how did you escape from him ? you have not told me 
 that." 
 
 He told her what he had seen, but as he made his es- 
 cape as fast as possible, he could not say what bad been 
 the result of the encounter between the baron and the 
 vicomte. However, he described the appearance of 
 the latter so well that Yolande instantly recognized the 
 young noble whom she had often seen walking in front of 
 the house. " Saint Mary ! " she said, laughing, " it is my 
 unknown ! the handsome youth who always salutes me so 
 respectfully when he sees me at the window : I wonder 
 that you did not know him ! " 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 6 1 
 
 " I remember that you pointed him out to me," re- 
 plied Bertrand, " but sooth to say I was so confused with 
 pain that I did not recognize him." 
 
 " I hope he avenged you on the false baron ! Truly it 
 was generous and knightly for him to draw his sword to 
 defend you, and I hope some day to give him thanks for 
 it. But is it not time, Bertrand, that we had some news 
 from my father } I am growing weary of this dull house, 
 and you will not allow me to go out." 
 
 " It is for fear of the baron. I know not what he dares 
 to do, and it is safer for you to remain at home, dear lady, 
 until your father returns." 
 
 " I shall rebel, Bertrand ; why, you would have me be- 
 come a heathen ! I have not been to mass this month. I 
 wish," she said rising, and walking about impatiently, " I 
 wish I could cross the river in one of those little boats I 
 often see ; would it be dangerous for us to go some 
 evening to la Citd, and attend vespers at Notre Dame ? " 
 
 " Indeed, dear lady, it would not be safe, for the city is 
 disturbed and the streets are full of reckless men. Your 
 lovely face would attract too much attention from those 
 rough prowlers, and their rude stares would not be pleas- 
 ant. If it please you to be patient, I hope your noble 
 father will soon return." 
 
 " I think I have been patient, good Bertrand ; but my 
 patience will not last forever, and if you will not allow me 
 to go to Notre Dame, there can be no harm in my going 
 to St. Jean's to hear mass, so I shall go there to-morrow." 
 
 " You will let me go with you then," said Bertrand, 
 " and I will have two stout servants follow us." 
 
 " Well, you may arrange it as you please, but I shall 
 go, for I feel like a caged bird here, and cannot endure 
 to be restrained much longer ! and so good night, Ber- 
 trand." 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 After the fall of his antagonist, the baron de Roye 
 turned about and walked to his lodging, where he threw 
 himself upon a seat, and began to reflect on what had 
 taken place. He gave but little thought to the wounded 
 vicomte, although he cursed him for having interfered to 
 prevent him from wreaking his vengeance on Bertrand, 
 whom he justly suspected of having hindered him from 
 seeing the lady Yolande. And it was with the faithful 
 Bertrand that he was most enraged. 
 
 " The devil take the old dotard 1 " he thought; "he thinks 
 to baffle me — ha ! we shall see whether he is a match for 
 me. A curse light on him ! " he continued angrily. " And 
 now, how shall I pursue my object ? It must be while de 
 Coucy is away with the Dauphin, for he will not hear of 
 my suit, and scorns the humble baron de Roye. May the 
 fiend possess me, if the beauty of the lady Yolande hath 
 not maddened me, and I must win her whether de 
 Coucy will or no ; but I must think of some means, for 
 this old fool will bar the door against me now more se- 
 curely than before, and if he tells his mistress how I 
 treated him to-day, 'tis like she will think me some mon- 
 ster of cruelty. I wish the vicomte had held his hand a 
 moment until I had thrown the leech into the Seine. He 
 would then have borne no tales to his lady to poison her 
 mind against me. By St. Peter, if he falls into my hands 
 again he escapeth not so easily ! " and the baron grinned 
 
 62 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 63 
 
 as he thought of the delight he would take in strangling 
 the object of his hatred. 
 
 The baron was exceedingly anxious to obtain the hand 
 of so great an heiress as Yolande, and certainly the beauty 
 of the young girl also attracted him in no small de- 
 gree, as well as a multitude of other suitors from whom 
 offers of marriage had been rejected. But instead of 
 withdrawing when he saw that he was not favorably 
 received, the baron made use of every opportunity 
 to throw himself in the way of Yolande, and en- 
 deavored to gain her affection secretly and without her 
 father's knowledge. He adopted this course, partly be- 
 cause the Sire de Coucy was so powerful a noble that he 
 dared not oppose his wishes openly, and also, partly be- 
 cause his suit had been somewhat disdainfully rejected 
 by him, and his nature was so vindictive that he would 
 have rejoiced to wound de Coucy's pride, as he knew he 
 should do, if he succeeded in gaining the love of Yolande, 
 to accomplish which he was ready to make use of fair 
 means or foul. He had hoped to see her frequently in 
 Paris, and was beside himself with rage when he found 
 his efforts baffled by the watchfulness of the old, physician, 
 and as he supposed the latter would inform Yolande of the 
 beating he had received, he began to despair of making 
 any progress in his wooing. 
 
 Stamping his foot upon the floor, the baron summoned 
 his landlord, whom he ordered to fetch him wine. " And 
 hark ye, knave, " said he, " send hither my servant, Philip." 
 While the landlord went upon his errand, the baron fell 
 again into reflection, but after thinking for a few moments 
 he started up exclaiming, " I verily believe I am bewitched 
 by this girl ! She must be mine ! and why should I not 
 carry her boldly off ? I could conceal her, and before her 
 
64 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 father could discover her, Navarre will be master of Paris, 
 and perhaps king ; for he is strong enough with the aid of 
 the English to defeat the Dauphin's party. Ha ! then per- 
 chance the haughty de Coucy will not despise me, for if 
 Navarre succeeds, I shall stand near him ; yes, I have his 
 confidence more than any other. Ha, ha ! 'tis a happy 
 thought and solves the difficulty ! so simple, too. Why did 
 I not think of it before ; but yet," he added thoughtfully, 
 " that house is not so easily forced : 'tis strong, and the ser- 
 vants are armed. Still she must sometimes go abroad. 
 She would not stay shut up within those stone walls, not she. 
 Soho ! we will watch for them, seize my lady, strangle or 
 drown the leech, and then away ! Aha, my lady Yolande, 
 I have thee now ! " The opening of the door interrupted 
 the baron just as he had in thought accomplished his nefa- 
 rious project. Seeing that it was the servant whom he had 
 sent for, de Roye ordered him to take two men and place 
 them where they could watch the entrance of the Sire 
 de Coucy's house. Philip asked whether he wished the 
 watch to be set at once. 
 
 " No, not to-night, knave," said his master, " it is too late ; 
 but in the morning early — and bid them place themselves 
 where they will be hidden, for the old man is suspicious 
 and will be on his guard. If he comes out alone, bid 
 your men seize him and bring him here, but if the lady is 
 with him let one follow them at a distance, while the other 
 brings me word. Do you mark well what I say, Philip ? " 
 
 " Yes, my lord, it shall be done exactly as you have or- 
 dered." 
 
 " Bid your fellows have a care," continued the baron, 
 " for, by St. Peter ! if they let the game slip, they shall lose 
 their ears ! " 
 
 Philip assured his master that the men should know the 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 65 
 
 penalty that awaited them in case of failure, and with- 
 drew, while the baron, remembering that he had that day 
 received a commission from the king of Navarre to the 
 Provost, wrapped himself in his cloak, and leaving the 
 tavern, directed his steps toward Marcel's house. 
 S 
 
CHAPTER Vin. 
 
 Etienne Marcel now found himself surrounded by 
 difficulties which increased daily. 
 
 Offended as he was by the plain words of the wine- 
 merchant, he could not but admit their truth, and began 
 to be alarmed at the situation in which he was placed. 
 Soon after the breaking out of the peasant insurrection 
 he had entered into correspondence with Guillaume Cal- 
 let, and promised him aid in his attacks upon the nobles. 
 He had done this soon after the Regent made his es- 
 cape from Paris where he wished to detain him, and at a 
 moment when he saw no other means of saving himself 
 from the resentment of Charles than by assisting Callet 
 and thus encouraging him in the helot war he was waging. 
 
 He knew the Dauphin could not attempt anything 
 against himself until he had first destroyed the peasants, 
 for the nobles would not serve against another enemy 
 until they had wreaked their vengeance upon those sav- 
 age desolaters of their homes. Marcel therefore held 
 out promises to Callet, while he delayed an open declara- 
 tion in his favor. In truth he was surprised at his suc- 
 cess, and when he received a message from him urging 
 him to keep the promises he had made, he hesitated as 
 to his course. He felt that he might have made his 
 peace with the Dauphin if he had boldly declared against 
 the rebels, but it was then too late to retrace his steps, 
 for the mob clamored for permission to share in the 
 
 66 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 67 
 
 plunder of the nobles ; the honest citizens began to dis- 
 trust him and it would be hard to regain their confidence, 
 and no middle course was possible, for only an immedi- 
 ate proof of loyalty could obtain pardon for the insults he 
 had heaped upon the Dauphin. If he could crush the 
 Jacquerie at a blow, so signal a service would perhaps 
 save him, but should he make the attempt and fail, his 
 fate was sealed ; complete success might save him, less 
 would but hasten his ruin. 
 
 One hope remained for him. The king of Navarre 
 might raise a party powerful enough, when joined with 
 his own, to accomplish the treachery they meditated : to 
 overthrow the Dauphin Charles and place the crown on 
 his cousin's head. These thoughts engrossed his mind 
 as the Provost sat at his table. His brow was wrinkled 
 and his hands twitched nervously, as he reflected upon 
 ,the necessity of deciding immediately, for Callet's messen- 
 ger was awaiting his reply, and that evening must decide 
 whether he would become an open traitor. While he 
 was thinking thus, his servant announced the arrival of 
 the baron de Roye. Marcel rose to receive him, and 
 made an effort to banish the anxiety which nevertheless 
 was visible upon his face. 
 
 " Well, Master Provost," said the baron, flinging him- 
 self into a seat, " how do our affairs come forward ? " 
 
 " Very well, my lord." 
 
 " And when will you deliver up the keys to the king of 
 Navarre ? " 
 
 " As soon," replied Marcel, " as he is able to main- 
 tain the war against the Regent ; but I have heard no 
 news of him of late. Is he gathering strength, my 
 lord?" 
 
 " Yes, in Normandy and from over sea, and he sends 
 
68 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 you word to be prepared, for he may arrive suddenly. 
 Are you sure of the city, Master Provost ? " 
 
 " All is quiet, and the citizens are devoted to me," re- 
 joined Marcel ; " have no fear, Paris will be for the king 
 of Navarre." 
 
 " Say you so ? I am glad to hear it. Provost, but they 
 say that the Dauphin hath friends here who seek to under- 
 mine you. Know you anything of this ? " 
 
 " Do not believe it, my lord." 
 
 " I suppose the citizens bear you much love for what 
 you did for them in the States-General," continued the 
 baron ; " and the trades, how are they affected, have you 
 influence with them ? " 
 
 "They follow my nod, my lord, for they hate the nobles 
 roundly, and have not forgotten that I obtained privileges 
 for them, as well as for the merchants. I hope," Marcel 
 went on, " that my lord of Navarre doth not forget that I 
 was of service to him also." 
 
 " Ha ! Master Provost, do you remind him of a service 
 as of a favor done ? By the saints ! " then, recollecting 
 himself the baron proceeded in a more friendly tone : 
 " Yes, by St. Peter ! you did my lord good service. Pro- 
 vost, and the noble marshals did not long enjoy their 
 dignities. Ha, ha ! it was well done of you, and Navarre 
 will not forget it ! Trust me, he will reward you when he 
 is king." 
 
 " I hope he will remember that I put my life in danger 
 for him." 
 
 " Doubt it not. Provost, you will not fail to have a 
 seigniory in Champagne or Normandy, when the Prince 
 is crowned : and by my faith, he asked me to tell you 
 this, and to say that he hath much confidence in you and 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 69 
 
 will give you proof of it, so you but hold Paris for him. 
 But methinks you are down-hearted to-night, Provost." 
 
 " No, my lord," replied Marcel, forcing a smile, " but I 
 am weary and perplexed by business. You know that 
 since these troubles trade stands still, the people press 
 me to give them food, and there is much hunger here in 
 Paris." 
 
 " God's truth 1 the people are keen set and grow rest- 
 less ! 'Tis like they would not be sorry to change mas- 
 ters, and would welcome Navarre ; is it not so ? " 
 
 "Yes," answered Marcel, "so he would give them 
 bread." 
 
 " By St. Peter ! if that be all they ask, they shall have 
 bread. Provost." 
 
 " I hope so, my lord, for they say that they are starving. 
 But how long will it be before the Prince can gather all. 
 his force ? Tell him, my lord, that it were well for him to 
 hasten ; delay is dangerous, and the time is good for our 
 attempt ; it could not be more favorable than now when 
 the Regent is fighting with the peasants, and if we fall 
 upon him we will be successful." 
 
 " Think you so. Provost ? by St. Peter, your advice is 
 good ! and truly I think the king means to come hither 
 speedily ; he bids you be upon your guard, for when he 
 reaches Paris you must act suddenly." 
 
 Marcel assured the baron that the moment the king 
 arrived with a large enough force to make head against 
 his cousin, he would deliver up the keys and place the 
 city in his hands. 
 
 The baron de Roye then rose, and placing his hand 
 familiarly on the Provost's shoulder said : " Forget not the 
 fair -seigniory that awaits. thee — and so, adieu. Master 
 Marcel." 
 
70 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 Somewhat reassured by the manner of the baron, and 
 by the news he had brought, Marcel now resolved to keep 
 the promise he had so imprudently made to Callet. He 
 would send him aid, and by so doing prolong the struggle 
 of the peasants, and gain time. He thought it would 
 be safer to trust entirely to the king of Navarre, than to 
 abandon his cause and attempt a reconciliation with the 
 Regent. It was a desperate resolution, for he thus 
 openly avowed himself a traitor, and he was well aware 
 that he also alienated from himself a strong party of 
 loyal citizens like Maillart, and would be forced to rely 
 upon a few of the trades and upon the support of the 
 mob ; still he thought the latter would be strong enough 
 to protect, and enable him to carry out his designs. 
 
 " I will run the riski" he said to himself. " If James 
 Van Arteveld could master and sway the communes of 
 Ghent, why may I not keep the power I have, — aye, and 
 increase it until I prove that a common man knows how 
 to rule as well as a noble? If the king of Navarre 
 will agree to my terms, well. If not, I will make Paris a 
 free city and hold it against all." Thus he reasoned as 
 he paced his room, dreaming of things impossible to 
 accomplish, and forgettitjg how different were the con- 
 ditions and resources at his command, from those of 
 which Van Arteveld had availed himself ; forgetting also 
 the unhappy fate of the latter who had fancied (with far 
 more reason for his delusion than he) that the people 
 could resist their masters and achieve their independence. 
 It was a dream that was to be rudely dispelled in Flan- 
 ders, and in France was soon to be extinguished in tor- 
 rents of blood. 
 
 Who can tell whether the thoughts that filled the mind 
 of Etienne Marcel that night were those of a patriotr— 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 71 
 
 whether he really desired to have Paris and France shake 
 off the fetters that bound them, and arise clothed in the 
 garments of freedom, or whether the lust of power had 
 seized and fascinated him ? 
 
 Who can say whether his good angel stood beside him 
 and whispered, " Beware ! this task is not for thee ! " and, 
 touching his eyes, pointed with warning gesture to the 
 bridge that spanned the years and stretched away into 
 the misty future. Did he see before him that shadowy 
 bridge that marked (arcli after arch) the coming ages of 
 dire oppression, sorrow, pain, the centuries that must 
 come and go before his dream could be realized .■' But if 
 his good angel gave him to see this vision, he heeded it 
 not, but obeyed the evil demon, as did the wild hunts- 
 man at whose side — 
 
 " Earnest the right hand stronger pleads, 
 The left still cheering on the prey ! " 
 
 His lips were firmly set, as he went to the door and 
 ordered his servant to send in the peasant who was wait- 
 ing. In a moment the envoy of Guillaume Callet made 
 his appearance, and we recognize Jacques whom we last 
 saw in the forest hut, drinking with Callet after the mur- 
 der of their prisoners. The ferocious peasant was not 
 awed by the presence of the city magistrate, but advanced 
 with an air of reckless assurance and stood before him, 
 running the fingers of his broad hand through his hair, 
 while he asked in a loud voice and without waiting to be 
 questioned — "Well, master, what answer am I to take 
 back to Guillaume .' you have kept me waiting long 
 enough, I trow ! " 
 
 " Say to him " replied Marcel, " that I will send a force 
 of men to his assistance." 
 
72 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 " But how soon then ? By the devil ! master, if you 
 mean to join us, you had best do so at once, for Guil- 
 laume is tired of your promises, and swears that if you 
 fail us now, he will cut off the hand of every citizen who 
 shows his face outside of Paris ! " 
 
 " I intend to keep my promise, fellow," said Marcel. 
 
 " Well, it is time for you to begin ; you have put us off 
 long enough, master, so decide and name a time when your 
 men will join us, but by the devil let it be soon, for we 
 need all the strong hands we can get to help us tear down 
 the walls of Meux." 
 
 " Does Callet mean to attack the town ? " asked Marcel. 
 
 " Have I not said so ? " rejoined Jacques, roughly. " Yes 
 he does, and we mean to take it : so will you help us in 
 time, or not ? " 
 
 " Yes, you can say to Callet that I will send a party to 
 aid him in a few days. Is that all you want to ask ? " 
 
 Jacques grinned savagely as he answered, " Yes, that is 
 all, but if you forget your promise, master, it will be worse 
 for you." 
 
 " No threats, fellow, " said the Provost, " you have your 
 answer ; now go," and he turned his back upon the peas- 
 ant who lingered a moment and then went out muttering 
 to himself, — " Is it all ? Yes, all now, master, but by the 
 devil's horns, if we once get into Paris, you will see 
 whether it be all ! Ho, ho ! there would be rare picking 
 here ! " 
 
 Marcel seated himself, relieved to be rid of his unwel- 
 come visitor, whose rough manners and threats he did not 
 much relish. 
 
 He had, however, now committed himself, and felt a 
 sense of relief at having done so : he was fatigued and 
 was about to seek his bed, when he was again disturbed 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 73 
 
 by the opening door, which admitted another claimant 
 upon his time. The pale blue eyes, colorless hair, and 
 flat nose of the intruder certainly belong to the servant of 
 the wine-merchant, and it .will be necessary to explain 
 what could bring Pierre Gilles to the Provost's house at so 
 late an hour. We already know that Pierre was no favorite 
 with Mistress Maillart, and although the good merchant 
 himself wjis inclined to treat the youth most kindly, he 
 could not help seeing that he sought the society of those 
 who could not fail to do him harm ; for he had of late 
 begun to spend his evenings from home, and his absences 
 became so frequent that Maillart was compelled to 
 remonstrate with him. Pierre had answered insolently, 
 and though his master took no notice of it at the time, he 
 resolved to follow the advice of his wife and dismiss him 
 as soon as possible. 
 
 One evening, howevef, when Jeanne had occasion to go 
 into the shop, Pierre took the opportunity to speak to her, 
 and receiving a pleasant reply, grew bolder and ventured 
 to tell her that he loved her. She was not so much 
 astonished as annoyed at this declaration ; but when he 
 attempted to embrace her, she repulsed him with all her 
 strength. He then seized her hand and would have 
 detained her forcibly, but Jeanne, who had a spirit of her 
 own, snatched away her hand and dealing him a blow 
 upon the face, darted up the stairs, where she told her 
 mother what had occurred. Maillart was not at home, 
 but as soon as he returned his wife insisted that he 
 should rid himself of Pierre at once. However, he had 
 not waited to be dismissed, but had already taken his 
 departure, so that his master was spared the necessity of 
 turning him adrift. 
 
 When Pierre entered the wine-merchant's service, and 
 
74 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 began to make acquaintances, he sought them among the 
 members or apprentices of the trades that he had been 
 familiar with when a young boy, and particularly among 
 the butchers, as was natural, for his father had belonged 
 to that guild at Ghent, and had been killed in one of the 
 bloody affrays so common there. It was to the butchers 
 then, that Pierre betook himself, burning with rage 
 against the whole family of the wine-merchant, who had 
 always treated him kindly, and whom he wished to repay 
 with ingratitude and injury. 
 
 Among his friends the butchers he had acquired some 
 influence, for he was shrewd and cunning, and remem- 
 bered enough about the power of guilds of his native city 
 to infuse into the minds of the butchers a desire to in- 
 crease their own, which was already considerable. 
 
 They had sent Pierre several times to the Provost, 
 whose staunch supporters they were, and he acquitted 
 himself so well that he became their regular envoy, and 
 was fast becoming their leader. When Marcel saw him, 
 he inquired impatiently, what he wanted at so late an 
 hour. " I am wearied and need rest," he said, " so tell 
 me quickly what brings you here.'' 
 
 " We wish to know whether you will allow us to join 
 the peasants before Meux," answered Pierre. " We will 
 furnish nigh two hundred men if it please you to let us go." 
 
 " Let the butchers have their men in readiness, and I 
 will send some stout fellows along with them. I sup- 
 pose you are all anxious to share in the booty of Meux, 
 Pierre." 
 
 " Yes, so please you, master." 
 
 " Well, you shall do so, lad, unless the peasants hinder 
 you.'' 
 
 "Trust us for keeping what we seize," said Pierre. 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 75 
 
 " But you will let us know when you are ready to have 
 us march ? " 
 
 " Yes, and it will be in a few days ; so keep yourselves 
 prepared," replied Marcel. "Now leave me, Pierre,°and 
 tell your fellows what I say." 
 
 Pierre debated whether he should tell the Provost that 
 he suspected his former master of sympathy with the no- 
 bles, but concluded not to do so, lest it should interfere 
 with a plan he had formed to be revenged upon him ; and 
 besides he had no reason for this suspicion beyond the 
 fact of Maillart's having taken home the wounded vi- 
 comte. The lack of proof, however, would not have pre- 
 vented his seeking to injure the good wine-merchant, had 
 he not thought he could accomplish his revenge in a surer 
 way. So keeping his own counsel, he saluted the Pro- 
 vost, who bade his servant fasten the door, and admit no 
 one more that night. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Count Guy began to find his stay in Paris very irksome, 
 for he had few acquaintances there beside the vicomte 
 d'Ervand, who was lying wounded at the house of the 
 wine-merchant. He had found the latter worthy of his 
 respect and esteem, but although the young noble might 
 have laid aside the prejudices of his rank, yet Maillart 
 did not allow him to forget the barrier between them, and 
 always treated him with deference, not venturing upon 
 any familiarity which he thought would be improper in 
 one of his condition. Their intercourse then was neces- 
 sarily confined to what related to the serious enterprise in 
 which both were engaged, and it was natural for the 
 count to long for some society. He found it dull as he 
 sat alone, and heard the shouts of laughter that reached 
 him from the rooms below, where Lanard was entertain- 
 ing Rolin and some other students whom he had not scru- 
 pled to bring along with him. When he made his ap- 
 pearance with his companions Bonel was inclined to re- 
 gret that he had promised to admit them ; and when he 
 recognized in Rolin the red-bearded student who had 
 made love to his wife, he actually shut the door in their 
 faces and secured it carefully, while he hastened to the 
 apartment of the count and told his grievance. 
 
 " Master Lanard told me," said he, " that there would 
 be only one, and here be six of these scholars, and that 
 red-bearded villain at their head. The Holy Virgin 
 knows I dare not let them in, my lord ! " 
 
 76 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 77 
 
 " Where are they now ? " asked Guy, laughing. 
 
 " Outside the door, my lord. Hark ! they have already 
 began to beat it down ! " he exclaimed, as a thundering 
 blow fell on the oaken panels, and a strong voice 
 chanted : 
 
 "Good master host, we wait below," 
 
 Then the six powerful voices shouted in unison. 
 " For the devil to fetch thee, hollo I hollo I " 
 
 Each hollo was accompanied by a tremendous thump 
 from the clubs, and receiving no response, they began to 
 repeat the summons, and with raised clubs were just 
 about to commence the somewhat imperative chorus, 
 when Robert thrust his head out of the window and cried, 
 " For the love of God, have a little patience ! I am 
 coming instantly." 
 
 The count followed Bonel to the window, and was much 
 amused at the sight of the six clubs that so alarmed his 
 host. " I will tell Lanard to try and restrain these fel- 
 lows," he said, " and go you and let them in, my good 
 Robert. I will be responsible if they do any damage while 
 they are inside, but not if they beat down your house be- 
 cause you keep them locked out, and look you, Robert, 
 if Susanne does not wait upon them, I think you can 
 keep them within bounds." 
 
 " Susanne shall not come near them, my lord ! I will 
 wait on them myself. Holy Virgin ! they are beginning 
 again." 
 
 " Make haste then and let them in," returned the 
 count, smiling at Robert's dismay. " Ah ! here is Lan- 
 ard. Well, my good fellow, you have noisy guests ! " 
 
78 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 " I only asked master Rolin, my lord ; shall I send the 
 others away ? " 
 
 " Why no, that would scarce be hospitable, Lanard. 
 You will have a merry evening. Do not forget to dis- 
 cover whether some of these students would follow me if 
 I should need them." 
 
 " I will remember, my lord.'' 
 
 " Very well, you may go now, and see that you recon- 
 cile Bonel with master Red Beard, whom he vowed he 
 would strangle on the first opportunity." 
 
 "I hardly think he will keep his oath to-night, my 
 lord," said Lanard, who then hastened down the stairs 
 to find Bonel undoing the chain, but so slowly that his 
 visitors thought proper to stimulate his efforts by various 
 sarcasms to which however he paid no attention. 
 
 The door was finally opened and they strode in, each 
 one greeting Robert with an ironical allusion to his hospi- 
 tality. 
 
 Bonel presently left the room to make some prepara- 
 tions for supper, and Lanard took advantage of his 
 absence, to tell Rolin that the kiss he had given Susanne 
 still rankled in the memory of the jealous fellow, and that 
 he had better invent some apology for his conduct. The 
 student was quick enough to take the hint, and when 
 Bonel returned he went up to him and clapping him on 
 the shoulder held out his hand. 
 
 Robert regarded him with a far from friendly look, and 
 did not grasp the outstretched hand ; but Lanard inter- 
 posed, for he saw that the object he had in view would 
 not be promoted by a disagreeable scene. 
 
 " Come, Master Bonel," he said, " do you not see that 
 master Rolin wants to make friends with you ? Take his 
 hand, for he is a good fellow, and never bear malice for 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 79 
 
 what he did when he had drank more wine than was good 
 for him ! After all, a man would be a saint an he took not 
 pleasure in the black eyes of mistress Susanne. So 
 blame him not too harshly, and I warrant you, Bonel, he 
 would not have dared to steal that kiss had you been 
 by!" 
 
 " No, by the Virgin ! I had broken his head," growled 
 Robert. 
 
 " I believe you,'' said Rolin, good naturedly, " an I had 
 a pretty wife I should feel as you do, and friend Lanard 
 speaks truth, for by the gods, I had not been so bold had 
 you been here ! Come, you look like a brave fellow, and 
 no milksop willing to have any man make love to his wife, 
 because he dares not fight." 
 
 "Ha!" rejoined Robert, "any man who makes love to 
 Susanne shall have to deal with me ! " 
 
 " Soho ! that is right ; the devil take all cowards I 
 say ! but bear me not ill will for that slip, good Master 
 Robert, for you see it was your good wine that made me 
 so forward that night, and the devil take me, if I am not 
 sorry for it ! so give me your hand in friendship. Never 
 believe me. Master Robert, if you keep not the best wine 
 here of any hostelry in Paris. By Bacchus ! I remember 
 the fragrance of it, and how it slips down your throat like 
 oil!" 
 
 Robert's wrath was somewhat appeased by this apology, 
 and by the compliment to his wine, and he now bestirred 
 himself to make his guests comfortable. 
 
 When supper was ready they all sat down, and were 
 waited upon by two boys, for Robert would not allow 
 Susanne to appear, and all insisted upon his supping 
 with them. Lanard knew that after the liquor began to 
 go round, it would be impossible to have any serious 
 
8o BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 conversation. So while his guests were busily employed 
 in satisfying appetites which almost justified Bonel's met- 
 aphor of the mill hopper, he began to speak about the 
 peasant war, for he wanted to discover whether the stu- 
 dents felt any sympathy for Callet and his followers. 
 He found that they condemned the excesses of the peas- 
 ants in no measured terms, and when he hinted that he 
 had been told that the Provost meant to open the gates 
 and let them enter Paris, he aroused a storm of indigna- 
 tion. 
 
 "You would not like to have the peasant Callet in 
 your chair of theology, then," he said, laughing. 
 
 " Hold, comrade," cried Rolin, " do not make merry on 
 such a subject ! " 
 
 " But," persisted Lanard, " what would you do if Callet 
 should bring his band into Paris ? " 
 
 " But 'tis impossible ! " 
 
 " How then impossible ? " 
 
 " Why, the walls are too strong, and too well guarded. 
 You are crazy, comrade, for unless the peasants are like 
 fishes, and can dive under the chains that cross the river, 
 they must e'en stay without the walls." 
 
 "But," said Lanard, "the gates might be opened for 
 them if there were traitors within, and then you would 
 have an opportunity to listen to lectures froTn two new 
 professors, comrades." 
 
 "Who then?-" asked Rolin, laughing. 
 
 " Guillaume Callet and the bloody Jacques : tell me, 
 friend, whether you would like it." 
 
 "I warrant you we would like it about as well," replied 
 Rolin, " as the merchants would to have their shops plun- 
 dered and burnt : or as master Robert here to have his 
 good wine drunk by beasts who would pay him for it by 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 8 1 
 
 burning down the Cerf Blanc, cutting his throat and car- 
 rying off Susan ne." 
 
 " Holy Virgin ! what are you saying ? " exclaimed Bonel, 
 " these peasants can never get into Paris ! " 
 
 " Would you fight to keep them out, Robert ? " 
 
 " That I would, Master Lanard." 
 
 " And would you, Rolin ? " 
 
 " Yes, by St. Genevieve ! " replied the student ; "and so 
 would every man at the University / but there will be no 
 need, comrade, and if there be, we know how to use sword 
 and dagger to defend ourselves. How came we to talk 
 of such folly, friend Lanard f " 
 
 " 'Tis not such folly as you think, Rolin, but we will 
 talk of it again : let us drink now." 
 
 " With all my heart ! " and, glancing slyly at Robert, 
 "here's to the black eyes of our pretty hostess ! " 
 
 Lanard laughed. " Have a care, Rolin," said he. 
 
 " What a malicious demon is this same jealousy," re- 
 turned the student. " Do but look at Bonel now : is he 
 not a picture of content and happiness ? and yet if one but 
 say a civil word to his wife, the green-eyed devil that in- 
 habits his breast turns the sociable companion into a sus- 
 picious husband. Do you ever feel yourself growing 
 jealous, friend.' No? Well, an you do, strangle the 
 devil before he tears your heart out with his poisonous 
 claws ! " 
 
 " Or drown him, Rolin ! " 
 
 " Yes, whelm him in floods of wine. . Ha, ha ! I think 
 my friend yonder must have tried that remedy and whelmed 
 himself, for see, he is getting up. Soho, by St. Genevibve ! 
 he's going to speak. And his voice is stronger than his 
 legs," said Lanard laughing, as he Watched one of the stu- 
 dents mount upon his bench, and support himself against 
 6 
 
82 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 the wall with one hand, while with the ther he made a 
 comical, half drunken gesture to demand attention. 
 
 "Reverend sirs and masters," he began gravely, "I 
 will now prove conclusively that the soul is separate and 
 distinct from the body ! " 
 
 This announcement was received with applause, and 
 shouts of, " Oh, oh ! the chaplain ! where is your white sur- 
 plice, Mr. Theologian ? " " Look at his solemn face ! one 
 would take him for the Dean of St. Victor ! " " Or a father 
 confessor ! " " Or a parish priest in a tavern ! Soho there, 
 thou long-faced imp of wisdom, tell us the difference be- 
 tween a master of arts and the devil ! Why, know you not 
 that the first wears a red cape, and the other a black ? 
 Hollo then, will you not answer ? Well, speak and be 
 hanged, obstinate mule. Hark ! hark ! " 
 
 The student bore this abuse with drunken composure. 
 
 " I will not be interrupted," he said, with an attempt at 
 dignity that was not very successful, " keep silence, there, 
 ye unruly fellows ! Now," he went on, " some say the soul is 
 in the blood, and some say it is the brain, and others, the 
 heart or such like folly ; but I say it is none of these," and 
 he stamped his foot upon the bench, nearly losing his bal- 
 ance as he did so. A roar of laughter saluted his desperate 
 efforts to steady himself, but he was allowed to continue 
 his address. " Where was I ? " then he muttered to himself. 
 " Aha ! the soul ! Yes, I tell you, sirs, the soul is that which 
 loves and hates, and suffers and enjoys, but whence it 
 comes, and whither it goes we know not, nor whether it be 
 large or small. But this we know : that sometimes it abides 
 within us and at other times is absent. When we dream, 
 it is our soul that sits beside us and whispers in our ears 
 pleasant or frightful things ; when we sleep and do not 
 dream, the soul has gone, and we wake not until it comes 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 83 
 
 again ; but if it comes not, then we do not wake, and our 
 body is dead. Thus the soul doth not depend upon the 
 body, but the body upon the soul." Here the liquor began 
 to confuse his thoughts and he stopped, but after a mo- 
 ment began again, hesitating and stammering. " Yes, truly 
 it must be, for how, my masters, and what saith Albertus 
 of the soul ? — Give me a cup of wine." 
 
 Stamping of feet and laughter greeted this abrupt close 
 of his lecture, which he sought in vain to renew, for they 
 would not listen ; and after standing for some time waving 
 his empty cup he was fain to sink down upon his bench, 
 where he continued muttering his theory in regard to the 
 soul. A dispute now arose between two of the students, 
 one defending the system of the Realists, while the other 
 argued in favor of the philosophy of Occam, which had 
 been prohibited by the University some years before ; and 
 from words they would have come to blows, but Rolin 
 saw the approaching storm, and striking a sounding blow 
 upon the table, cried out, "Soho there, comrades! keep 
 peace and shame us not by brawling here where we are 
 guests ! What care we whether there be three bodies in 
 the Holy Trinity, or whether all be blended in one : 'tis a 
 mystery beyond us, and if so many learned doctors could 
 ne'er solve it, how should we who understand it not ? 
 My faith ! why should we perplex our brains with questions 
 so involved and intricate. If you must needs dispute, 
 follow the Lullian art, but leave such subjects as the God- 
 head, and profane them not with lips still wet witli wine. 
 What profit is it for you to hurl heretic in each other's 
 teeth ? By the shade of Abelard ! ye remind me of the 
 ass who thrust his head between two bundles of good 
 fodder, and still went hungry, knowing not how to choose ; 
 for ye sit between the white wine and the red and do not 
 
84 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 drink! Fye, comrades, leave disputes to the Sorbonne! 
 Brim your cups and keep good fellowship ! " 
 
 His companions looked somewhat ashamed, and 
 hastened to follow this good advice, by pledging each 
 other, and Bonel who had listened to all this without in 
 the least understanding it, now began to sing while the 
 others falling into the humor joined in the chorus. 
 Lanard then related some stories and adventures, for 
 he was a capital hand at a story, nor did he forget in the 
 interval of tale or song, to send around the liquor, so that 
 the walls of the Cerf Blanc rang again with the shouts of 
 mirth that arose from the party, and all were in the high- 
 est good humor, with the exception of the student who had 
 succumbed to the fumes of wine, after his unlucky speech 
 upon the soul. 
 
 His comrades departed linally, carrying this weak 
 brother, but before they went they declared that Lanard 
 and Bonel were the best fellows in the world, and that 
 they were beholden to them for a jolly entertainment. 
 
 Meanwhile, it may be imagined that count Guy found 
 it impossible to sleep, and he paced his room, stopping 
 now and then to listen to the noise of the revelry below. 
 A feeling of loneliness came over him, and he half re- 
 solved to go down and drink a cup of wine with the bois- 
 terous company ; but he remembered that his presence 
 would be a restraint upon them, and so abandoned the 
 idea. Flinging open the window he looked out, but there 
 was nothing cheering in the prospect, for a drizzling rain 
 had set in and it was pitch dark. Occasionally the uncer- 
 tain light of a torch could be seen flickering in the dis- 
 tance : from the eaves of the houses across the narrow 
 street, came the monotonous drip of the water as it fell 
 upon the stones ; and at intervals he heard the step of 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 85 
 
 some belated passer-by, or the voice of a watchman, calling 
 the hour. 
 
 He turned away and seating himself took refuge in 
 thought. He had heard nothing from the marquis de la 
 Riviere, or from Rigaud whom he had left at Poissy. 
 Only vague rumors reached him of the progress made by 
 the Jacquiers, but these rumors were frightful enough to 
 make him uneasy, and to prove that the nobles had not 
 yet suppressed the rising. The uncertainty of his position 
 irritated him, for he was involving himself in a web of in- 
 trigue that was far from agreeable, and yet he saw no 
 other means of fulfilling the mission entrusted to him, and 
 he had followed the advice of the marquis, whose expe- 
 rience had doubtless taught him the best policy to pursue. 
 Certainly he had reason to congratulate himself upon his 
 success up to this point, and he felt very grateful to Mail- 
 lart, who had relieved him of the details of a disagreeable 
 duty. If the latter could secure the assistance of his 
 brother merchants, and Lanard could persuade a party of 
 students to join them, Guy saw that he might succeed in 
 his aim, and he would soon know whether he could de- 
 pend upon these allies : if not, he reflected that it was more 
 than useless for him to remain ; he would send a mes- 
 senger to Poissy, order Rigaud to meet him and then lead 
 his troop to the Dauphin's camp. Having resolved upon 
 this, he began to wonder whether the vicomte d'Ervand 
 would be able to leave the city with him. This thought 
 suggested the occasion of his wound, and recalled the day 
 when his friend had pointed out the lady at the window. 
 Our thoughts are strangely logical sometimes, and move 
 in sequences : perhaps they always do so, and if we fancy 
 otherwise, it is because thought is too swift to register 
 upon the brain the milestones that it passes in its flight. 
 
86 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 However this may be, Guy's thoughts retraced step by 
 step the path that led them to the house beside the Seine, 
 and to the window where he had caught a glimpse of the 
 fair face of lady Yolande. 
 
 The one glance he obtained had been of eyes deep 
 violet in color, — eyes that seemed to him as pure as wild 
 flowers with the dew upon them, as full of sunshine as 
 the stream that flowed sparkling past the walls of his 
 chateau : in thought they appeared to him the loveliest 
 eyes he ever looked upon, and he fell to wondering what 
 the face was like. 
 
 Then suddenly remembering the threat of the baron de 
 Roye, he started to his feet as though to defend some one 
 dear to him, but threw himself down again with a laugh 
 at his folly, and resolved to banish his fancies. But they 
 clung to him in spite of his resolution, and finding that he 
 could not shake them off, he abandoned himself to their 
 pleasant illusion, hoping thus to .escape from the loneli- 
 ness that so oppressed him. 
 
 He succeeded easily in this, for his mind was well 
 stored with tales of knightly deeds, of wild adventures, 
 and of desperate risks incurred by errant chevaliers. 
 
 He forgot the dismal rainy night and his own perplex- 
 ities, while he wove his airy castles, peopling them with 
 creatures of his fancy who were grave or gay, ugly or 
 beautiful, according to his mood. It was as though he 
 looked into a mirror, and saw reflected on its surface, now 
 a battle-field where men-at-arms plunged forward, spears 
 in rest, and archers plied their bows : he could almost 
 hear the shouts of those who fought, and the clash of 
 swords, and then the unreal warriors vanished and two 
 knights appeared, reining their horses round for the 
 career, and they dissolved in mist. Then he heard the 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 87 
 
 trumpets of a tourney, and saw a press of knights: he 
 recognized their arms and proud devices, he saw the 
 favors that they wore, and how they did their devoirs,. 
 while the ladies watched their champions with eager eyes. 
 
 Then this scene vanished, and he saw a charming val- 
 ley outspread before him. On either side rose mountains 
 sloping upward and away beyond his sight : over them 
 hung a filmy veil of blue that half concealed the ravines, 
 down which two torrents rushed to meet each other in the 
 valley ; and where they met, their waters rose in spray and 
 snow-white foam, and circled round and round, then min- 
 gling, flowed gently on past banks spangled with violets, 
 and found an outlet in the mountain pass. At either end 
 of this valley stood a castle, turreted and strong, bidding 
 defiance to all intruders in that fair domain ; and in the 
 centre rose a building fairy-like in beauty — for the others 
 stood at the extremities of the valley like two grim warders, 
 but this, reared by some enchanter, was of delicate, fantas- 
 tic workmanship. Its walls were of marble set with fair ar- 
 cades, whose columns were of porphyry of different colors, 
 red and green and purple. Then there was a court sur- 
 rounded by low balconies where the dwellers might sit 
 and listen to the fountains, and above were more arcades, 
 with polished columns veined in purple, blue and yellow, 
 while within there was a maze of rooms all filled with 
 precious things. The castle was surrounded by graceful 
 domes and slender towers, whose roofs reflected back the 
 setting sun in showers of gold. 
 
 In this enchanted valley the flowers bloomed all the 
 year, and one might gather most delicious fruits : the 
 evening air was heavy with the scent of roses and of cit- 
 ron blossoms. Sweet strains of music floated on the 
 breeze, and the sound of pleasant laughter came from the 
 
88 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 carved balconies, whose silken awnings swayed and flut- 
 tered languidly in the perfumed air. 
 
 Let us not blame count Guy for dreams that served to 
 while away the time that weighed so wearily upon him. 
 They were ridiculous perhaps, but it was an age of extrav- 
 agant fancies, when men's minds began to awaken, and 
 sought for something better than the dry husks of scholas- 
 tic philosophy on which they had been fed: nor is it 
 strange, that, refusing to be nourished on worn-out systems 
 of theology, they rushed headlong into vagaries just as 
 false, perhaps, but infinitely more pleasant and refiaing. 
 Without books they were compelled to listen to spoken 
 tales and songs, and those in whom the intellect began to 
 stir drank in deep draughts of romance, glad to escape 
 thus from the stern reality of sorrow and death that sur- 
 rounded them, and seizing eagerly this new power of liv- 
 ing in another world. 
 
 Count Guy was aroused from contemplation of lys 
 chateaux en Espagne, by the noisy departure of Lanard's 
 guests, and throwing himself on his bed was soon asleep, 
 continuing his waking dream, perhaps, by forming the 
 acquaintance of the gentle inhabitants of his enchanted 
 castle. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 When count Guy awoke, the sunlight was streaming 
 into his chamber through the casement from which he had 
 looked the evening before into the gloom of a night dis- 
 mal with fog and rain. Perhaps sleep had kindly united 
 the broken threads of his reverie, and brought again the 
 vision of the valley and its fairy castle, or perhaps the 
 sun, that great magician, touched his eyes with his trans- 
 forming wand ; but certainly Guy sprang up feeling as 
 though the world had changed in the night. His forebod- 
 ings had vanished with the darkness and the rain ; he felt 
 light-hearted ; all the buoyancy of youth and health was 
 stirring within him. 
 
 From the street arose the busy hum of life : he heard 
 the voice of his hostess, as she went singing about her 
 morning work, and when Lanard knocked at his door, he 
 found his young master in a cheerful mood and ready to 
 listen to his account of the supper of the night before. 
 He laughed heartily at the student's drunken speech, 
 which Lanard described, imitating at the same time the 
 attitude of Rolin's friend as he stood on the bench, sway- 
 ing from side to side, and waving his empty wine-cup in 
 the air. " I fear these students are too fond of liquor to 
 make good soldiers," said the count ; " their heads and legs 
 would be too unsteady, and their hands readier to grasp 
 the wine-jug than the sword : we had best not depend 
 upon aid from them, Lanard." 
 " By your leave, my lord, I do not agree with you," an- 
 89 
 
go BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 swered Lanard, respectfully. " Truly, they are hard 
 drinkers, but if anything can keep them sober, it is fear 
 of losing their privileges, and they will fight like devils for 
 the honor of the University." 
 
 " I do not place much confidence in them, Lanard, but 
 perhaps you are right, and if you can make them believe 
 that the Provost means to injure them, you may be able 
 to manage them." 
 
 " Trust me for that, my lord. I will persuade them 
 that their charter will be taken away, that Callet and his 
 robbers will invade the haunts they love. I will so work 
 upon them that you will soon have a stout following of 
 these learned gentlemen." 
 
 " Well, well," returned the count, laughing at Lanard's 
 enthusiasm, " you shall have your way ; but here comes 
 our host. How now, Robert, have you an aching head 
 this morning ? My faith ! you had a merry time of it last 
 night ; I hope your wine played you no ugly tricks, for 
 you spared it not, I think." 
 
 " No, my lord, it flowed freely enough, and played me 
 no tricks neither, for my wine hath none of these new- 
 fangled drugs that make your head whirl like a mill- 
 wheel, so please you." 
 
 "Ha, hath it not? what then dizzied the brain of the 
 poor student, and made him play the fool for your amuse- 
 ment ? " 
 
 " It was not the fault of my wine, good my lord, but 
 when he came he was half drunk already, and his head is 
 weak." 
 
 " And if a man drinks not a whole pipe, his head is 
 weak, forsooth ! Why, you would have all men wine bib- 
 bers, my good Robert." 
 
 "Yes, my lord," said Bonel, " for I should drive a fine 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 9 1 
 
 trade if they were; there is master Rolin, now — if all 
 were but as sound drinkers as he, I should grow rich as a 
 Jew. Holy Virgin ! I never knew before a man could 
 drink so much, and not be drunk ! " 
 
 " And did you throttle master Red Beard ? methinks I 
 heard you say you would choke his life out when you met 
 him. What, didst not dare to keep thy threat, man ? 
 Faith, I thought better of your spirit ! " 
 
 Robert looked a little ashamed, but Lanard came to his 
 relief, and told the count that Rolin had apologized for 
 his conduct, and declared that he was drunk when he 
 kissed Susanne. " Yes, my lord," admitted Robert, " I did 
 say that I would be revenged upon him, but Lanard in- 
 vited him, and he is a friend of his, and then — and then — 
 why, indeed, my lord, he is such a merry fellow, and so 
 good-natured, that, if he but looked in his face, Satan him- 
 self could not bear him malice ; his eyes have such a 
 twinkle in them, and there be such funny lines and crooks 
 about his mouth, that one can scarcely help laughing for 
 company of the merry devil that lives inside of him and 
 looks out of his eyes. I promise you, my lord, that I was 
 in a fine rage when he came in last night, and his fellows 
 at his back. He came and clapped me on the shoulder, 
 and asked me to forgive him, but I had a better mind to 
 strike him, and refused to take his hand, until the jolly 
 devil peeped out at me from underneath his eyelids, and 
 winked and grinned in such an uncouth way that I burst 
 out laughing, and felt no anger any more." 
 
 " I think Robert had a mind to try his strength with 
 Rolin," said Lanard. 
 
 " That I had — but, good my lord, when I forgive I for- 
 get, too ; and I would not lay a hand on master Rolin 
 now, though the Provost himself bade me ; not that I am 
 
92 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 afraid, but why should I quarrel with such a good-natured 
 companion, my lord ? " 
 
 " Why, indeed ! " returned the count, " it is far pleasanter 
 to drink a friendly cup with him, than to break each oth- 
 er's heads." 
 
 " Not that I care for a broken head or so, neither," 
 said Robert stoutly, " for I will stand up to any man of 
 my degree, as long as he likes, and run the risk of having 
 him crack my crown." 
 
 Guy laughed. " If your deeds are as brave as your 
 words, my good fellow, you had best follow Lanard to the 
 wars." 
 
 " No, no," returned Robert, shaking his head, " I e'en 
 gave up that trade when I married Susanne. " But, good 
 my lord, is it true that the Provost will let the peasants 
 into Paris ? for if it be, we shall all have to fight, whether 
 we will or no." 
 
 " It would be easier to keep them out than to fight 
 them after they are within, would it not ? " said the count. 
 
 " Truly it would, my lord, but I hope they will not get 
 in, for if they do, we inn keepers will be ruined men." 
 
 " Well, well, Robert, Lanard will talk with you about 
 these things ; follow the advice he gives you. Hark ! 
 there is a knock — go see whether it is a messenger." 
 
 Bonel went out, and soon returned followed by Mail- 
 lart, who came to report the result of the conference held 
 at his house. This was satisfactory, and the count was 
 pleased to learn that the merchants would be able to raise 
 and equip quite a strong force, which they were willing to 
 place under his orders. He then inquired about his 
 friend, d'Ervand, and was glad to hear that his wound was 
 healing rapidly. " The vicomte," said he, " owes your 
 good wife thanks for her kindness." 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 93 
 
 "She has taken pleasure in caring for him," answered 
 Maillart, " for she hath a kind heart, but, truly, it has 
 been no trouble to us, for we have prospered well, and 
 have but one child, and she is a good girl, thank God. " 
 
 " You have no other children ? " 
 
 " No, my lord, and I used to think it hard that I had 
 no son to carry my business on after me, but now I sel- 
 dom brood over it, for Jeanne is a great comfort to me." 
 
 "And I suppose you give her all she asks for, and 
 she rules the household," said Guy, smiling. 
 
 " No, my lord, we do not always yield to her, but I 
 confess she knows right well how to persuade us to 
 gratify her wishes." 
 
 " Ah, I warrant she plays the tyrant with you ! but. 
 Master Maillart, I shall go soon to visit the vicomte, 
 and must make the acquaintance of your good wife and 
 daughter." 
 
 " They will be very proud, my lord, " replied the wine- 
 merchant rising. 
 
 Guy took from his breast a pin of delicately chased 
 work set round with small pearls : " You must give me 
 leave " he said, " to send this little trinket to mistress 
 Jeanne. 'Tis not valuable, " he added, as Maillart hes- 
 itated, " a trifle that took my fancy when I saw it first." 
 
 " Florentine work, is it not, my lord ? " returned the 
 wine-merchant examining it, " but you should not turn 
 the child's head with such jewels." 
 
 " Do not refuse it if you think it would please her," 
 said Guy, smiling, " she has perhaps helped to nurse my 
 friend ; tell her it is a token of my thanks." 
 
 " You are very kind, my lord : 'tis beautiful work- 
 manship, far finer than that of our goldsmiths ; it will 
 
94 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 please Jeanne wonderfully. I give you thanks," and 
 bowing respectfully the merchant took his leave. 
 
 As soon as he was alone count Guy threw on his 
 cloak, and taking his sword descended to the room 
 below, where he found Robert engaged in an eager con- 
 versation with Lanard. Motioning the latter to follow 
 him he left the hostelry, and walked on directing his 
 course according to his fancy, for he had no particular 
 object in view except to escape from his chamber, for he 
 felt the need of air and exercise, and although he had 
 some horses in the stable, he had not used them, for the 
 streets were badly paved and full of holes, so as to be 
 almost unfit for riding. But the young count would have 
 given a handful of gold to have been transported at that 
 moment to his chateau, and, falcon on wrist, to have been 
 mounted on his good horse galloping along the stream 
 that wound its way through his meadows. He sighed as 
 he reflected that it would probably be long enough be- 
 fore he could indulge himself again in his favorite amuse- 
 ment, and paid no heed to Lanard, who meanwhile was 
 less abstracted, and made good use of his eyes. They 
 had reached the river, and were walking slowly along 
 the quay, when Lanard touched his master's arm, and 
 called his attention to a group of people a little distance 
 in front of them, but lower down, and standing at the 
 river's edge. 
 
 "There is some villany yonder," said he; "do you see 
 those three men, my lord, who hold an old man and a 
 woman between them ? There is a boat, too." 
 
 " By St. Victor ! " cried the count, " they are carrying 
 them off by force, for the woman's arms a,re bound and she 
 has a scarf over her face. Follow, Lanard ! " and loosen- 
 ing his sword in its belt, he ran hastily forward. But before 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 95 
 
 they reached the water, the man who seemed to direct 
 the others had placed the lady (for they were soon near 
 enough to distinguish her dress) in the boat, and stand- 
 ing on the gunwale, was giving some order to the two 
 fellows who held the old man by the arms. The savage 
 gestures of this man showed that he was about to commit 
 some act of violence, and as the count came up he heard 
 him say. " Fasten a stone about his neck, knaves, and 
 put him in the boat ! We will see whether the old sorcerer 
 can swim from the middle of the Seine ! make haste, ras- 
 cals ! " While he was urging them thus, he let go his hold 
 of the lady's arm, and she, darting away from him, ran 
 to the end of the boat and sprang out. As her hands 
 were bound she would have fallen, had the count not 
 reached the spot in time to receive her in his arms. 
 
 Meanwhile Lanard drew his sword and instantly at- 
 tacked the fellows who held the old man. He ran one of 
 them through the body before his master could come to 
 his assistance, and the other throwing down his weapon 
 shoved off the boat, and leaping in, seized the oars and 
 quickly placed some distance between himself and his 
 unexpected assailants. 
 
 When the lady Yolande, for the reader has doubtless 
 recognized her, escaped from the boat, the baron de 
 Roye, seeing her movement, attempted to grasp her arm ; 
 but she eluded him, and losing his balance he fell heavily 
 forward, striking his head against the edge of the rower's 
 seat, so that he lay apparently insensible. His servant 
 after rowing a little distance put down his oars, and tak- 
 ing some water in his hand, dashed it in his master's face. 
 It evidently revived him, for he sat up and then get- 
 ting slowly upon his feet, looked about him with a 
 bewildered air, but quickly realizing what had happened. 
 
g6 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 his actions expressed the most furious anger. He placed 
 his hand on his dagger and made a movement as though 
 he would have stabbed the man who held the oars ; then 
 turning toward the shore, he shouted, in a voice hoarse 
 with passion : " Ha, you have baffled me, but I will have 
 revenge, and you shall dearly repent this deed, for I 
 know you, count de la Roche. Malisons upon you ! you 
 shall answer this ! " 
 
 " Willingly," replied Guy, " here and now, or elsewhere 
 I hold myself in rea'diness to chastise you, and maintain 
 that you are false and unworthy knight." 
 
 " By heaven, Count, you had best look to yourself, for I 
 will have your life for this," muttered de Roye as he 
 seated himself, and without giving a glance at the body 
 of his servant who had fallen, he ordered his man to go 
 forward and cross the river. 
 
 Count Guy's first act had been to release the lady 
 Yolande from the scarf that covered her mouth, and to 
 sever with a stroke of his dagger, the kerchief with which 
 her hands were bound, and then as Lanard did not 
 require his aid, he stood watching the gestures of the 
 furious baron, until the latter seated himself and with 
 an oath commanded his trembling servant to row to the 
 other side of the stream. All stood silent watching the 
 boat until it reached the opposite bank, where its occu- 
 pants landed and were soon lost to view in the streets of 
 la Citd. 
 
 Count Guy then approached the lady, who turned upon 
 him a face lovely indeed, but doubly beautiful now, 
 flushed by excitement, and aglow with gratitude that 
 found eloquent expression in the eyes that had haunted 
 him so long. 
 
 "My lord," she exclaimed, "you have rescued me from 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 97 
 
 dreadful peril ! Receive my earnest thanks for freeing me 
 from the hands of yonder villain baron." 
 
 "No thanks are due me, fair lady," returned Guy, "and 
 believe me, I thank Heaven for the happiness of having 
 served you ; yet, my faith ! I had small part in the affair, 
 for my good Lanard bore all the blows. But trust me, 
 I am sorry the baron escaped, for he well deserves 
 death for this outrage ! " 
 
 " Oh, he is a hateful man, my lord ! but Bertrand will 
 tell you how he was abused by him ; and for him to dare 
 to lay his hands upon me ! Ah, how it angers me ! " and 
 her flashing eyes bore witness to the truth of her words. 
 
 " Dear lady," said the physician, " we are not far 
 from home ; would it not be well for us to return ? and if 
 the noble gentleman will bear us company, we can more 
 fitly thank him." 
 
 " You are right, Bertrand, I am not courteous enough. 
 Will you honor us so far," she said, turning to Guy with 
 a smile. 
 
 " By your leave I will accompany you very joyfully," 
 replied the count, " but first let me examine this poor fel- 
 low who has fallen." 
 
 " I think he is dead, my lord," said Lanard, " but if 
 this gentleman is a physician — " 
 
 " Yes," interrupted Bertrand, " let me look at him." A 
 brief examination showed him that the baron's servant 
 was dead, and leaving him there, they made their way 
 to the house of the Sire de Couc}'. 
 
 At their summons the door was opened by Anton, who 
 was not a little surprised to see his lady return at- 
 tended by a strange nobleman. She desired him to take 
 charge of Lanard, and to "see that he had some refresh- 
 7 
 
98 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 h 
 
 ment. " He has just done me a service, Anton," she 
 said, " so look that you become friends." 
 
 Bertrand then led the way to his room, where Yolande 
 begged the count to seat himself, while she retired to 
 make some change in her dress, which was in truth 
 rather disordered. During her absence the old physi- 
 cian explained to Guy what we already know in regard 
 to the baron de Roye, and his efforts to obtain the hand of 
 his lady ; how they had come to Paris, where the baron had 
 followed them ; how he had prevented his seeing Yolande, 
 and the baron's rage at being thus baffled in his hopes. 
 
 He told how he had been beaten in the street, how the 
 vicomte had been wounded, and finally, how it happened 
 that they had fallen into the baron's hands that day. 
 
 It will be remembered that Yolande had insisted upon 
 going to mass contrary to the wishes of Bertrand. "My 
 lady is so high-spirited," he said, " that she sometimes 
 refuses to listen to me. She knows no fear and laughs at 
 danger. Well, my lord, after service was ended we left 
 the church, and I looked in vain for the servants who had 
 followed us ; they were not in sight and I began to dread 
 some evil. But we started homeward and had reached 
 this street, when two men leaped out from a vaulted way, 
 and threatened me with death if I cried out ; at the same 
 moment de Roye seized my lady, and threw a scarf over 
 her face to prevent her from screaming. He bound her 
 wrists, and then they hurried us away to the river where 
 the boat was waiting. When you came up they were 
 about to fasten a heavy stone around my neck, for he 
 had sworn to drown me. You know the rest. But you 
 surely saved my life, and be sure, my lord, that I am 
 deeply thankful, and hope to live to prove it by doing 
 you some service." 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 99 
 
 " Give it no thought, good sir," said Guy smiling pleas- 
 antly. " 'Tis a trifle not worth remembering." 
 
 " But there is no sin like ingratitude, good my lord," 
 replied Bertrand gravely, and yet although I owe my life 
 to you, and would not be ungrateful for it, I thank you 
 ten-fold more for saving my dear lady from the clutches 
 of the baron. He is a dangerous man and hath a most 
 revengeful spirit. I fear he will attempt to injure you." 
 
 " I care not, and only wait an opportunity to punish 
 hira," answered the count. 
 
 " But yet be on your guard, my lord, for he is treacher- 
 ous and will seek revenge ; not honorably, but by some 
 devilish means, and I hope you will not scorn an old 
 man's counsel." 
 
 " No," replied the count, smiling, " I will be on my 
 guard and thank you for the warning. But I must not 
 forget to tell you that the gentleman whom the baron 
 wounded is a friend of mine, the vicomte d'Ervand.'' 
 
 " Ah ! I hope he was not badly hurt, my lord. I 
 blame myself for not staying near him, but truly I was so 
 confused and weak with pain, that I only thought of mak- 
 ing my way here in safety. If you will tell me where he is, 
 I will go and thank him for defending me, and then, I am 
 a physician, perhaps I can do him good." 
 
 Guy assured him that the vicomte's wound was al- 
 most healed, and that he only required good nursing to 
 be as well as ever. 
 
 " But, Master Bertrand," said he, " you say two ser- 
 vants followed when you went to the church, have they 
 returned ? " 
 
 " No, my lord, and I fear the baron has made way with 
 them." 
 
 " Yes, no doubt he watched you, and while you were 
 
100 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 in the church fell upon your men, and either killed or 
 made them prisoners, and then lay in wait for you ; 'tis 
 more than like. My faith, what a villain ! " 
 
 " He is so, my lord, therefore do not fail to guard 
 against his treachery." 
 
 When Guy learned that Yolande was the daughter of 
 the Sire de Coucy who had been a friend of his father, 
 he remembered that he had a short time before received 
 an invitation to visit him. It is needless to say that he 
 now regretted not having accepted it, for he had thus 
 lost an opportunity of becoming acquainted with the lady 
 Yolande. However, he detern:iined not to indulge in 
 vain regrets for what was past, and turning to his com. 
 panion inquired how he occupied his time, "for I suppose," 
 he said pleasantly, " you do not go much abroad, since the 
 baron de Roye is ever on the watch to do you a mischief." 
 
 " I spend some time," answered Bertrand, " in manag- 
 ing the household which the Sire de Coucy left in my 
 charge, and afterward lady Yolande is often pleased to 
 have me read to her, or we converse upon subjects she 
 has studied. Then I read these books, my lord," and he 
 rose to show his visitor the manuscripts ranged about 
 the room. Some of these the count had read, others 
 were new to him ; but Bertrand appeared to be familiar 
 with them all, taking up one after another as lovingly as 
 though they had been his children. " Here" said he, " are 
 Virgil, Cicero, Ovid — you have read them ? that is well 
 indeed ! Livy, you know him not, you say ? and these 
 Arabic scrolls, my lord, there is much wisdom in them, 
 for the Saracens have penetrated deep into the mysteries 
 of nature, and put to shame us who are Christians. They 
 know the laws that govern the complex movements of 
 the stars, and have marked the shining tracks of comets 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. lOI 
 
 that appear like fiery dragons in the sky, and burn, and 
 disappear to come again when we are dead perhaps and 
 fright our children. But in these scrolls we learn how to 
 compute the periods that elapse before those heavenly 
 visitants return again, and how they move in their erratic 
 course. On these charts we trace each constellation, the 
 movements of the planets and their influence, and how 
 the moon affects the ocean tides. Then too these Moors 
 and Saracens have searched for virtues hidden in the 
 trees and flowers and herbs, distilled their juices, 
 learned all their properties and how to separate or unite 
 them ; how to extract those essences that, by themselves 
 or mingled with each other, have healing qualities or 
 deadly powers. All these you will find here ; but they say 
 the learned men who wrote these scrolls knew many secrets 
 that they set not down in writing but preserved, trans- 
 mitting them by word of mouth, and leaving them as 
 legacies to friends whom they held dear. One of these 
 secrets I discovered once by a strange chance : I will tell 
 you of it sometime if you please. 
 
 "But" continued Bertrand, "much as I prize these 
 scrolls, I would give them all for one I saw last year 
 when I was at Bologna, written by Dante. You know his 
 history, ray lord, and how he was banished by the un- 
 grateful Florentines who now begin to boast of him. 
 Truly he will reflect more lustre on their city in the 
 time to come than ever their proud Neri or Bianchi 
 dreamed of. Yes, when the petty warfare of their 
 nobles is forgotten, and its memory is buried deep be- 
 neath the dust of centuries, his name will, like the sun, 
 hang over Florence and illuminate her history! Ah, 
 what a mind he had, this Dante ! what a fund of 
 learning ! what a prodigious memory ! how like a sur- 
 
I02 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 geon doth he probe the heart until it seems as though he 
 plucked it quivering from the breast, it lies so bare and 
 open to our view. Yes, yes, my lord : you must read 
 Dante if you would learn to know the heart ! " 
 
 " But," asked Guy, interrupting the enthusiastic 
 scholar, " do you never ride or hunt, or fly the hawk ? " 
 
 " Such sports are not for roe," replied Bertrand, " but 
 then, I am now too old to take pleasure in them, and am 
 satisfied to read and ponder on my books, to study the 
 stars, and watch over the happiness of my dear lady — 
 whose eyes are like the stars — and try to do some little 
 good to others, when I can. I wish, my lord " he said 
 abruptly, " that you would let me cast your horoscope." 
 The count laughed. 
 
 " I have no objection — you may do so if you will ; 
 but do you believe in the truth of what may be predicted 
 by the stars ? " 
 
 " Much may be read in them," returned the physician 
 gravely, " but their mysteries are difficult to penetrate and 
 often baflfle us, even when we seek them reverently." 
 
 Guy knew that the hour of his birth had been recorded, 
 and a little scroll containing this was enclosed in a locket 
 that had belonged to his mother, and which he always 
 wore about his neck. He gave this to Bertrand, who 
 was delighted to see that it contained all the information 
 necessary for his purpose, and placed it carefully in a 
 small casket filled with similar scrolls, promising the 
 count to let him know the result of his calculations. As 
 he closed the casket, the door opened and Yolande came 
 in, much to Guy's satisfaction, for although he was ex- 
 tremely interested in what he had seen and heard, he 
 began to be impatient for her reappearance. 
 
 She asked whether Bertrand had related their adven- 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 1 03 
 
 ture, and again thanked the count for his opportune as- 
 sistance. She also begged him to beware of the baron 
 de Roye, who she declared would certainly try to be re- 
 venged. Guy promised to be on his guard, but inwardly 
 resolved to seize the first occasion of avenging the insult 
 offered to the fair girl, whose remarkable beauty he had 
 now full leisure to observe. 
 
 Yolande asked whether it were not true that their 
 fathers had been friends, "for" she said, "I have often 
 heard my father speak of the count de la Roche as one 
 of the bravest of the nobles who fell at Poitiers. Ah, 
 forgive me 1 " she cried as she saw the shade that 
 crossed his face, " I have caused you pain by my thought- 
 lessness." 
 
 Guy smiled a little sadly as he answered. " I should 
 feel no pain to hear you speak of him, and yet my 
 father's death was a great sorrow to me, for he was like 
 an older brother and allowed me to be his companion 
 constantly. We rode together, we flew our falcons and 
 followed the chase in company, and he was ever ready to 
 sympathize with me in my boyish sports. But I forget 
 myself, and speak of that which cannot interest you." 
 
 " Do not say so, Count, but pray forgive me for speak- 
 ing so heedlessly of what is such a sorrow for you to 
 remember." 
 
 Guy was grateful for the sympathy which Yolande's 
 face expressed, and roused himself to shake oiT the sad- 
 ness that had oppressed him at the allusion to his 
 father's death, and in a short time their conversation be- 
 came more animated, for both had suffered from the 
 loneliness the young are sure to feel when debarred 
 from the society of those of their own age. 
 
 The count was charmed by the frank and sprightly 
 
I ©4 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 humor of his companion, and she was not ill pleased at 
 the readiness with which he responded to her laughing 
 sallies. If he glanced admiringly at the delicate oval of 
 her face, and watched the light that glowed and deep- 
 ened in the violet eyes, she was not unconscious that his 
 features were noble and expressive, his figure perfectly 
 proportioned and his movements graceful. Her intui- 
 tion showed her more than Guy allowed his glances to 
 express, and in truth his heart began to tingle with a 
 strange sensation, as delightful as it was unfamiliar. 
 They parted mutually pleased, and as Guy returned to 
 the Cerf Blanc, he reflected that Paris was not so unin- 
 teresting as he thought. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 Meantime the vicomte d'Ervand was confined to 
 the house of the wine-merchant. The first few days 
 dragged by wearily enough, for his wound was pain- 
 ful and the unwonted restraint irritated him. But 
 Rolin had not boasted vainly of his physician's skill, 
 and his salves and balsams had a magical effect. Mis- 
 tress Maillart, too, was unremitting in her care, and 
 as he rapidly improved, her guest became less discon- 
 tented, especially after he was well enough for Jeanne 
 to relieve her mother in the capacity of nurse. In truth 
 he soon became reconciled to his situation, and was sorry 
 that his wound promised to be healed so soon — for he 
 found it not unpleasant to be an invalid, waited upon by 
 so pretty an attendant. We find him then reclining com- 
 fortably upon a couch in a pleasant room, from whose 
 windows he can see the Seine embracing its tiny islands 
 in its arms, and winding its way through the heart of 
 Paris. His eye rests upon the sails of vessels that arrive ; 
 he sees the groups of people standing on the wharf watch- 
 ing the unlading of these barques ; he hears the shrill 
 screams and the laughter of the peasant women, as they 
 drive keen bargains for the fruit and vegetables they have 
 for sale. As he lies there he is conscious that he is very 
 comfortable, and that Jeanne will presently come to ask 
 whether he requires anything. We fear the vicomte is a 
 sad dog, for his mind is occupied at this moment in devis- 
 ing some fancied want that may serve to prolong her 
 
Io6 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 visit, while at tlie same time, lie wonders how he can 
 lengthen the convalescence he finds so pleasant. 
 
 '■'■Pestcl" he mutters. "I shall have no reasonable 
 excuse for staying here much longer : my shoulder is 
 almost as well as ever, though I do pretend it is so sore 
 and painful. 'Tis a good jest, but I fear I cannot pro- 
 long it or they will discover what a hypocrite I am. My 
 faith, I wonder if they suspect it now ! Mistress Jeanne is 
 quick enough to penetrate that thin disguise. Truly she 
 is a pretty maiden, and has a soothing touch with those 
 light fingers ; they are as soft as velvet. Where got she 
 such a hand ? and then her voice — by St. Genevibve, 'tis 
 like the summer wind ! and she a merchant's daughter. 
 Peste upon it, this will not do ! I must not lose my head! 
 by our Lady, I believe I am in danger of losing my heart 
 to this girl. What nonsense to think of her so much ! 
 no, no, this will never do. Why, the good Maillart and 
 his wife have treated me with more confidence than I de- 
 serve, if I trifle with their daughter's heart, and by heaven ! 
 I will not repay them with such base ingratitude. Come, 
 let me not forget myself. This girl is the daughter of an 
 honorable man who has done me a great kindness— a 
 merchant whom I must repay, and not be under obliga- 
 tion to. We are as far apart as Heaven and earth. So 
 adieu to dreams that realized in earnest would be folly, 
 and otherwise base and unworthy of me." 
 
 Having thus taken himself to task, the vicomte 
 thought he could easily shake off the impression the 
 young girl had made upon him. He dismissed the 
 vague thoughts that filled his mind as though a breath 
 could banish them, and began to wonder when the 
 count de la Roche would come to see him, and how 
 his affairs were progressing. " Guy has not visited 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. I07 
 
 me for a week," he said to himself, " surely he must be 
 very busy to neglect me so, or perhaps he thinks it pleas- 
 ant to be shut up alone with a sword thrust to keep one 
 company ! " He forgot that he had been favored with soci- 
 ety so pleasant as to make him regret that the sword 
 thrust had not been more serious, and that a moment 
 since he had wished that he could prolong the confine- 
 ment that seemed so irksome now. His resolution to 
 banish Jeanne from his mind, made him realize that his 
 thoughts were not the pleasantest of companions, and 
 made him suddenly unjust to count Guy, who had not by 
 any means forgotten him. But the vicomte, with all 
 the inconsistency of human nature, began to think him- 
 self an injured man, and blamed his friend for what he 
 chose to consider his neglect. 
 
 In this disagreeable frame of mind he tossed about on 
 his couch, allowing his eyes to wander about the chamber 
 when they rested every moment on something that re- 
 minded him of Jeanne ; for she had arranged the room in 
 a tasteful way thinking to please his fancy. Turning 
 impatiently from this survey, his glance fell upon the 
 river shining in the afternoon sunlight. But the glancing 
 sails, the shadows of the masts, the colors in the western 
 sky had no charms for him. The noises and the laughter 
 that had sounded far away, and mingled indistinctly with 
 his pleasant thoughts, seemed near at hand, and loud and 
 harsh : they grated on his ear and increased his irritation. 
 He would have been glad to shut his eyes and stop his 
 ears ; he tried to sleep and could not, and was rapidly 
 becoming very wretched when he heard a light knock at 
 the door. He put his hand over his eyes and pretended 
 not to hear, and after a moment's pause the door opened 
 noiselessly, and the bright face of Jeanne Maillart peeped 
 
Io8 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 in. Thinking the vicomte was asleep she was about to 
 go away, when he made a slight movement. She hesitated 
 and then closing the door behind her, went softly across 
 the room. As she approached, he took his hand away 
 from his face which was flushed and feverish. 
 
 "I thought you were asleep," she said; "I hope I did 
 not disturb you. But what have you been doing, my lord ? " 
 
 " Doing, my pretty maiden ? nothing I think, but trying 
 to sleep without success." 
 
 " Why, you look quite ill 1 you are flushed, and your 
 forehead burns : I am afraid the fever has returned. We 
 should not have left you so long alone. What bad nurses 
 you will think us ! " While speaking she had arranged the 
 pillows, and brought a cooling draught which she held to 
 his lips and insisted upon his swallowing : then seating 
 herself, she began to pass her hands lightly over his face 
 and brow, and asked whether he felt more comfortable. 
 
 " I feel as though a cool breeze had fanned me," he 
 replied, laughing : " but really, Mistress Jeanne, you must 
 not take so much trouble, I am getting well so fast 
 that—" 
 
 " That what, my lord ? " 
 
 " That I shall soon be able to use my arm as well as 
 ever," he answered evasively, for he meant to say that his 
 recovery would soon deprive him of her services, which he 
 found exceedingly agreeable. 
 
 " But if you excite yourself, my lord, the fever will 
 return, and then you will be more ill than before : so you 
 must be very careful. Now this afternoon you must have 
 done something imprudent to get so hot and restless. 
 Did you not walk about ? You have such a guilty look, 
 my lord, that I believe you have been doing something 
 very wrong ; perhaps you even tried to go out of doors 1 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. I og 
 
 Confess, " she added smiling, " confess, or we shall be 
 afraid to leave you alone again. " 
 
 " What a dreadful threat ! Why, do you know, that 
 penalty would induce me to do something very rash in- 
 deed ; then I should see you oftener, Jeanne." 
 
 " Fye, my lord, you must not say such things, and I 
 am sure you like best to be alone," glancing at him mis- 
 chievously ; " but no," she went on, shaking her head, " it 
 would be loo dangerous, and the fever would come back, 
 so I shall tell my mother to stay more with you." 
 
 " And are you so busy, my little physician, who talk 
 so. wisely of wounds and fevers, is your time so precious 
 that you cannot spare a little of it to sit with me your- 
 self?" asked the vicomte, who had already forgotten 
 his stern resolution to see as little of Jeanne as possible. 
 
 " O yes, my lord, I have scarcely time for anything ! 
 Let me see, " counting on her fingers, " one hour to 
 help my father, and two hours to help my mother, one to 
 feed my birds ; how many is that, my lord ? " 
 
 " Four, my pretty mistress." 
 
 " Two hours to practice singing, that is six ; and then 
 an hour for walking, and then the meals and supper and 
 other things. I don't know how many hours in all." 
 
 "You have counted seven," said the vicomte, laugh- 
 ing, " seven beside the meals and other things ; but they 
 would not take all the rest of the time, I think." 
 
 "I don't know," she replied, demurely, "the other 
 things take a great while, my lord ! " 
 
 " But surely, it would not take a whole hour to feed 
 your birds. Why, you might feed a flock of birds in half 
 an hour : and two hours for singing ! You could learn all 
 the chansons in the world, singing two hours each day, 
 
no BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 and after all there are seven or eight remaining, I think 
 you could spare a few of them, fair Jeanne." 
 
 " Well, I will see, my lord, but it really does take a 
 great while to feed my birds." 
 
 " But birds have not such great appetites : they are 
 easily satisfied." 
 
 " No indeed, you are mistaken, for my birds are not 
 satisfied unless I let them talk to me." 
 
 " Can you understand their language ? " asked the vi- 
 comte much amused. 
 
 " Of course I can, and they tell me all their secrets," 
 said Jeanne. 
 
 " You mean you guess at them, for I never heard of 
 but one man who understood the language of birds, and 
 he was obliged to do a very disagreeable thing before he 
 learned it." 
 
 " But perhaps women can learn more easily than men 
 my lord." 
 
 " Perhaps so, for they are more like birds than we." 
 
 " Why, my lord ? " asked Jeanne. 
 
 The vicomte laughed as he replied : " I shall not 
 tell you all the reasons, but I can tell you two of them if 
 you wish. Because they have sweet voices and move 
 gracefully." 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed Jeanne, disdainfully, " you cannot 
 know much about them, my lord, for there are a great 
 many birds that do not sing at all, and some have horrid 
 squeaky voices, then others are so clumsy about flying that 
 they knock themselves against the trees. Why, did you 
 never see a raven or a crane? what ugly things — and 
 it is not nice of you to say that we are like them, no 
 indeed ! " 
 
 " But," replied the vicomte, laughing at her indignant 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. Ill 
 
 air, " did you never see a woman as awkward as a crane, 
 and ugly as a raven ^ " 
 
 " No," said Jeanne, pouting, " never ! " 
 
 " Well, I fear there are some, but I was not thinking 
 of them when I spoke, but of those who are like the pretty 
 singing birds." 
 
 " It is men who are like cranes and ravens and spar- 
 row-hawks," returned the young girl, still indignant ; 
 " they are ever fighting and stealing ! but I know why you 
 say women are more like birds than men, without your 
 telling me." 
 
 " Do you, indeed, why is it then, Jeanne ? " 
 
 "You were thinking that it is because they chatter so, 
 and it made you laugh : now here have I been chattering 
 like any swallow, so I shall leave you. Does your head 
 feel better, my lord ? " 
 
 " Why, it is perfectly well ; I owe you many thanks. 
 What, you are not really going ? You have not given me 
 one half the time you give your birds. When will you 
 come again, to see me .■• I think my head will ache to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " You must keep very quiet," said Jeanne, " or I shall 
 send my mother to sit with you. If you are good perhaps 
 I will come to-morrow — if I have time," she added, glanc- 
 ing at him demurely. " I wish you good e'en, my lord." 
 
 "Adieu, my pretty little physician," rejoined he, and 
 the door closed behind the merry girl, whose nonsense 
 had chased away his restless mood and left him in his 
 usual good spirits. " I believe the girl has cast a spell 
 over me," he said to himself. " She seems to possess 
 the gift of charming away pain, and I must tell her that 
 I think she is a witch. Ha, ha, how gravely she declared 
 that she could understand the talk of birds ! Upon my 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 word, she cheered my heart up wonderfully. I hope she 
 will not forget to come again to-morrow." And he fell 
 asleep thinking of Jeanne Maillart. Perhaps he dreamed 
 of her, who knows ? 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 One evening about this time, Rolin might have been 
 seen striding along the rue St. Victor accompanied by 
 his friend, the man-at-arms. Nevertheless, one must have 
 been close at hand to recognize them, for it was a dark 
 night : there was no moon, and the stars were partially 
 obscured by the haze that overspread the sky, so that it 
 was necessary for the student to turn now and then to 
 warn his companion of some impediment, which he him- 
 self easily avoided since he was familiar with the path. 
 Leaving the rue St. Victor they entered the rue St. 
 Jacques, and followed it until nearly midway up the slope 
 leading to the University, when they plunged into an alley 
 so narrow that it seemed as though the houses met over- 
 head, where their protruding upper stories, overhanging 
 eaves and irregular roofs nodded at each other from 
 across the way, and did their best to shut out the sky 
 from the view of any one standing in the street below. 
 Stopping before one of these houses, Rolin said that he 
 had forgotten his dagger, and asked his. companion to 
 wait a moment while he fetched it. " I will not invite 
 )'0u to come in," he added, laughing, " unless you wish to 
 climb five flights of stairs, for, by the gods ! I live as near 
 the sky as possible, so that I may not have so far to go to 
 reach heaven when I die." He disappeared, but returned 
 more quickly than one would have thought possible. 
 Lanard asked how he managed to go and return so soon. 
 
 " My friend," replied the student, " I have long legs 
 
 113 
 8 
 
114 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 and know how to use them : three bounds to each land- 
 ing, five times three, and there you are ! " 
 
 "I should think you would break your neck in the 
 dark." 
 
 " Not I, my eyes are like a cat's ; I can see in the 
 night, even though I knew not every crook and turn in 
 yonder nest ; but here we are, and if you are as thirsty as 
 I, you will drain your cup in a twinkling." 
 
 While talking they had retraced their steps, and now 
 entered a hostelry in the rue St. Victor. A number of 
 guests were seated at the heavy oaken tables about the 
 room. Some of them seemed by their dress to be trav- 
 ellers ; others, petty traders who, released from the confine- 
 ment of their business, had come hither for the sake of 
 the wine, or to gossip with their neighbors. One of the 
 tables was occupied by five or six students, who saluted 
 Rolin as he came in. He returned their greeting, but 
 good-naturedly refused to accept their invitation to join 
 them. "No," said he, "my friend and I are hungry and 
 must have some supper before we drink. You have a 
 good hour's start of us, comrades, and we should drink 
 you all under the table ! " 
 
 "A challenge! a challenge ! " they cried, "we accept 
 it, Rolin, and if you drink us down, we will pay the 
 score." 
 
 " Not to-night, friends, it would be unfair, for I should 
 beat you ; another time, and we will commence earlier in 
 the evening." 
 
 " See that you come not late then, bird of night. Soho, 
 Rolin, you owl ! when do you sleep ? " 
 
 " When the cock crows," he answered, laughing, " but 
 I will not forget your challenge, comrades,'' and passing 
 on, he seated himself with Lanard at a small table in the 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. I15 
 
 corner. From this place they could see all the occupants 
 of the room, without being themselves observed. They 
 then desired the host to bring them some food and plenty 
 of wine, and prepared to enjoy themselves, for though it 
 was already late, Rolin was a person who considered it 
 one of the seven deadly sins to waste a whole night in 
 sleep ; and as he had declared, the crowing of the cock 
 was his usual signal for going to bed. By the time they 
 had finished their supper nearly all of the guests had gone, 
 and presently the students rose unsteadily to their feet, 
 and went away singing at the top of their voices. 
 
 " They seem to be jolly fellows," said Lanard, " are 
 they friends of yours, Rolin ? " 
 
 " Yes, and we have all of their names down for the ser- 
 vice of the count, your master. By St. Genevifeve ! I hope 
 he will give us an opportunity to come to blows with the 
 Provost's men." 
 
 " Why so, are you not friendly with them ? " 
 "Not we," said Rolin. "These gentlemen of the 
 watch are too particular about a broken head or a stab, 
 and the Provost threatens to clap us into prison if we do 
 not stop amusing ourselves with the honest citizens." 
 
 "Why, a broken head or so, or even a stab now and 
 then, I can understand well enough, for one will grow 
 impatient when provoked," rejoined Lanard; "but devil 
 take me, if I know what you mean by amusing yourselves 
 with the citizens ! " 
 
 The student laughed. " You see," he replied, " these 
 merchants and goldsmiths and such like are grown so 
 bold that they refuse to step aside into the ditch to make 
 way for a student. They like not to soil their feet, for- 
 sooth, and swell themselves up with so much pride that 
 you would take them for so many peacocks out for a holi- 
 
Il6 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 day. So when a party of our fellows meet one of these 
 rich citizens marching along with his head in the air, and 
 his knavish apprentice in front of him to light the way, 
 they begin to jeer at him and call out, ' Soho, Isaac Close- 
 fist ! whither away, old Moneybags ? ' or such like non- 
 sense. If he takes offence and answers them, or uses 
 threats, by St. Genevifeve ! 'tis the worse for him ; for 
 they seize and strip him, and after he has been well rolled 
 in the gutter, they tie a long rope around his body, and 
 throw him in the river, pulling him out when he is half 
 strangled like enough. Then they tell him that the 
 Emperor Julian left his baths as a legacy to the city of 
 Paris, and decreed that if the citizens did not visit them 
 at least once in a year, they should be caught and washed 
 in the Seine at the public expense. Afterward, perhaps 
 they will tie him to a post and shave his head as bare as 
 my arm, and leave him then until the watch comes up and 
 unbinds the shivering wretch. Ha, ha ! 'tis great sport ; 
 but these pranks anger the worthy Provost, and he 
 threatens to cage up the next student who amuses himself 
 after this fashion, wherever he lays his hands on him. 
 By the saints ! if he plays us such a scurvy trick he shall 
 smart for it. Think you we will forego our ancient privi- 
 lege of being hanged in our own quartier? No, by St. 
 Genevieve ! we will prove to him in seven languages that 
 he dares not punish us beyond the little bridge ; and if 
 he catches us on this side of the river, he is welcome to 
 hang us if he can, but he will be more like to feel the 
 cord around his own neck," and Rolin paused quite out 
 of breath. 
 
 "Why, so he should," replied Lanard. "The devil! 
 can he not allow you to amuse yourselves and have a 
 little innocent pastime, when you must needs long for 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. II7 
 
 some pleasant recreation after so many hours of hard 
 study ? I am a Jew if the young count does not give you 
 your revenge upon him, for he has much love for all 
 scholars, Rolin.'" 
 
 " Hath he so ? " cried the student. " Aha, I thought he 
 had more gentle learning than these nobles who ever ride 
 about armed, and know how to read as well as my stick, 
 by St. Genevifeve ! Know you where your lord studied, 
 comrade ? " 
 
 "In Italy, I believe, for he was a long time there," 
 replied Lanard. 
 
 " Soho ! and doth he know the ancients, and doth he 
 comprehend the systems of Aquinas, and Roncelin, and 
 Abelard — can he dispute in Latin ? " 
 
 Although he had no idea whether the count was master 
 of these acquirements, Lanard answered boldly, " Dis- 
 pute ? I have heard him dispute by the hour with our 
 bishop in Latin, Greek and Italian, and I know not what 
 other tongues, for I have no learning, much to my sorrow." 
 
 "'Tis a great pity, comrade," said Rolin, "for I 
 believe you would make good use of it ! But, my word, 
 you draw a good bow at a venture ! Greek, say you, why, 
 our Rector himself can speak no Greek ! If your lord 
 can speak Latin and Italian he is no less than a prodigy, 
 and I give him honor." 
 
 " Well," answered Lanard, " mayhap I am mistaken 
 about the Greek ; but I know he understands Hebrew." 
 
 Rolin looked at his companion a little doubtingly as he 
 said : " He is a fine youth, and I would like well to have 
 some talk with him. He has been in Italy, you say. 
 Ha ! I wish I could travel thither myself, but it takes 
 gold, and I lack the crowns, comrade." 
 
 " I have heard that the Romans lived in that country, " 
 
Il8 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 said Lanard, " they were good soldiers were they not, 
 Rolin ? " 
 
 " Good, say you ? by the shield of Minerva ! they were 
 the very children of Mars, who was the god of war you 
 know, comrade. Ha ! I must get me some new oaths, for 
 you understand not the classics. But these Romans " 
 continued Rolin, " conquered the whole world, and were 
 the best soldiers that ever marched. Did'st never hear of 
 Caesar, Lanard ? " 
 
 " No, who was he ? " 
 
 " St. Genevifeve aid me 1" cried the student, laughing, 
 " You a man of war, and not know the name of the great- 
 est general of the world ! Forgive me, comrade, but 'tis a 
 great pity you are so ignorant." 
 
 "So it is," replied Lanard good-naturedly, "but how 
 am I to learn, if you laugh at me instead of answering my 
 questions ? " 
 
 " Truly you have an inquiring mind, and I have a good 
 will to give you lessons in reading, then you could find 
 out all these things for yourself." 
 
 " No, Master Rolin," said Lanard, " I am too old to 
 learn to read, and must listen patiently to those Who can ; 
 so tell me something about this great general as you calj 
 him. He was a skilful knight, I suppose, and a bold 
 leader of men-at-arms ?" 
 
 Rolin filled himself a cup of wine, and tossing it 
 off, was about to give his companion a short sketch 
 of the life and fortunes of Caesar. He cleared a little 
 space before him on the table, and prepared to illus- 
 trate the campaigns in Gaul with bits of bread to 
 represent the frontiers of the provinces, and small 
 streams of wine, which he poured out sparingly, for 
 the rivers. But the lecture which he thought would 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. II9 
 
 prove SO interesting to Lanard, was interrupted by the en- 
 trance of two men, who, after glancing carelessly around 
 concluded that the room was empty, sat down and began 
 to talk. Their conversation was carried on in a low tone 
 at first, but presently became so loud that our friends 
 could not help overhearing it. When the strangers came 
 in, Lanard, who could see them while he and Rolin were 
 concealed, noticed that one of them wore a rough cloak 
 that seemed familiar to him, and as soon as he saw his 
 face, he recognized the servant who had escaped in the 
 boat with his master, the baron de Roye. Touching 
 Rolin's arm and pointing to the new-comers, he placed 
 his fingers on his lips, and made the student understand 
 that he wanted to hear this conversation. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The baron's rage at being foiled in his almost success- 
 ful attempt to carry ofE the lady Yolande was beyond 
 bounds, and found its first expression in threats against 
 count Guy and abuse of his own servant. But he was 
 too vindictive to be satisfied with empty theats, and his 
 mind was soon busy in devising means whereby he could 
 obtain a sure and safe revenge. He shut himself up 
 alone to mature his plans, and avoided the possibility 
 of meeting the count, who was thus lulled into a false 
 security, and thought the baron would not dare to injure 
 him. 
 
 But Guy would have formed a more correct estimate 
 of the dark and treacherous character of this man, 
 could he have heard the conversation that Lanard and 
 Rolin listened to at the hostelry, where the fellow whom 
 the man-at-arms had recognized, was explaining to his 
 companions the details of a plot to waylay and murder 
 both the count and his follower. It may be imagined 
 that Lanard was deeply interested in hearing how they 
 meant to accomplish their design, and the two ruffians, 
 believing themselves alone, used so little caution that it 
 was not difficult for him to overhear what they said. 
 
 Rolin indeed was unable to understand the allusions 
 they made to the scene by the river, but he comprehended 
 well enough that Lanard and his master were to be sur- 
 prised and attacked by four armed men, who meant to 
 fall upon them without warning. He sat quite silent, but 
 
 I20 
 
Bj:rORE THE DAWN. 121 
 
 as he heard each detail of time and place arranged, his 
 fingers clutched the hilt of his dagger and he glanced 
 expressively at his companion, who listened with an 
 unmoved countenance, while his death was being so care- 
 fully planned. He caressed his beard in a careless 
 manner, and even smiled, but did not lose a single word 
 of the conversation, and when the men rose to leave the 
 room, he placed his hand quietly but firmly on the 
 shoulder of his friend, nor did he open his lips until he 
 was quite certain that they were alone ; then turning to 
 the student with a laugh he said : 
 
 " ' Tis a well-laid plot, and might be successful enough 
 if the fools had not betrayed themselves, and placed us on 
 our guard." 
 
 Rolin overwhelmed him with questions, for his curios- 
 ity was fully aroused, and he was not satisfied until he 
 heard all that Lanard knew about the baron de Roye. 
 
 " Aha," he exclaimed, " it is all clear to me now, but 
 he must be a savage, this baron ! I wonder, comrade, how 
 you could listen so quietly to his devilish plans ! Why did 
 we not use our daggers on his two minions ? good faith ! 
 when I heard them talk so coolly of stabbing you in the 
 back, I thought it lucky that I brought this," and he 
 struck his weapon into the table where it quivered in the 
 wood. " There," said he, watching it, " I wish it were in 
 the heart of the baron ! " 
 
 Lanard laughed at his excitement. " But, Rolin, if we 
 had killed the baron's men he would have formed some 
 other plan : it is much better to let him try this, and as we 
 know it, we will not be"" taken by surprise, and perhaps we 
 can rid ourselves of him once for all." 
 
 " What cowards !" cried Rolin, " four against two — and 
 they taken at unawares ! But on my word, comrade, I 
 
122 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 could scarce help laughing when I heard yon knave de- 
 scribe you ; methinks he cares not to meet you again — the 
 tall devil with the long sword, as he called )'0u, ha, ha." 
 
 '■ Well, he ran away fast enough the other day," re- 
 joined Lanard, " but if I have another chance at him I 
 mean to make him feel that same long sword of mine." 
 
 " I hope you will, but do you think you could manage it 
 so that I could be with you to-morrow when these cowards 
 attack you? though perhaps, your lord will not go out when 
 he knows." 
 
 Lanard smiled. " Will he not ? Good Rolin, you do not 
 know the count, and I warrant you he will go out after 
 dinner just as he always does." 
 
 " But he will be well attended, I suppose, so as to have 
 the advantage if he is attacked.'-' 
 
 " I know not that," replied Lanard, thoughtfully, " it 
 would only be safe and reasonable, but the count is young 
 and fearless, and may refuse to take any one beside my- 
 self. Well, I think we could get the better of the knaves 
 even then, though the odds would be against us." 
 
 " Is your lord a good swordsman, Lanard.' " 
 
 " Good, say you ? he is a master ! such a wrist and arm ! 
 it would do you good to see him wield his sword, Rolin, 
 and I wish you could be with us to-morrow." 
 
 " If those four fall on you, he will need all his skill," 
 returned the student ; " come, you must arrange it so that 
 I shall be there. Gentle Saint Genevieve ! I would not 
 miss seeing such an exploit for twenty crowns ! and I 
 may aid you too : 'tis too reckless for two to pit them- 
 selves against four." 
 
 Lanard reflected that this was true enough, and told 
 Rolin to come to the Cerf Blanc the next day to dinner, 
 and he would arrange it so that he could accompany them. 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 1 23 
 
 They parted with this understanding, and the student 
 returned to his nest on the hill, while Lanard crossed the 
 Seine and made his way homeward. The next morning 
 he repeated to the count all that he had so fortunately 
 overheard, and found as he suspected that the threaten- 
 ing danger would not deter him from taking his afternoon 
 walk as usual. Neither would he mount on horseback as 
 Lanard suggested, or hear of taking more attendants with 
 him. " If you and I," he said, '' are not able to punish 
 these assassins, we must suffer for it." 
 
 " I have no fear, my lord," replied Lanard, " but yet it 
 would be more prudent for you to take some precautions." 
 
 " You must remember, my good fellow, that instead of 
 their surprising us, they will be taken by surprise and we 
 shall have the advantage." 
 
 Lanard was not convinced, but finding it useless to re- 
 monstrate, was obliged to yield, and after dining, the 
 count set out with his single attendant. They had 
 scarcely left the inn, when Rolin, who had been in the 
 kitchen, came out and followed them as had been agreed 
 between Lanard and himself. Under his gown he wore a 
 stout doublet, and he was armed with sword and dagger ; 
 he had stuck a cock's feather in his cap, and was in high 
 spirits at the prospect of an affray in which he hoped to 
 take part. Keeping a short distance behind the count, 
 who did not observe him, he strode along, looking from 
 side to side with a keen glance that took note of every- 
 thing. They proceeded in this fashion, and had gone per- 
 haps two hundred paces, when they reached the corner of 
 a narrow lane that opened out of the street along which 
 they were passing. Here they were confronted by the 
 baron de Roye 'and his men, all of whom sprang upon 
 them so suddenly, that had they not been prepared for it, 
 
124 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 the assault would probably have been fatal to the count 
 and the brave man-at-arms. They were, however, upon 
 their guard, and their swords flashed in the air as their 
 assailants threw themselves upon them. 
 
 The baron attacked Guy furiously, crying out, " Ha, 
 Count de la Roche, I have thee now, and by heaven, thou 
 shah die ! " 
 
 The count made no reply, for he saw one of the 
 baron's men creeping up behind him with his sword 
 raised, but parrying the first stroke aimed at him by de 
 Roye, he struck the uplifted sword of his servant and sent 
 it flying fully five paces from his hand. This he did with 
 a backward sweep of his arm that was incredible in its 
 rapidity and force. While the man retreated to regain 
 his weapon, Guy attacked the baron and pressed him 
 hard, but while thus engaged he was not sorry to see 
 Rolin run up at full speed, and place himself by the side 
 of Lanard, who was defending himself bravely against his 
 two assailants. 
 
 " Have at you, dog ! " shouted the student, delivering a 
 blow at one of them which forced him to turn and con- 
 front him. " Coward ! " he cried, " do you set two upon 
 one? by Saint Genevifeve, I will teach you to lay am- 
 bushes in the daytime in the streets of Paris ! Aha ! son 
 of a robber, now will I show you the swordsmanship 
 we use at the University. Soho ! there thou ugly knave, 
 with thy bottle nose, thy donkey ears and thy matted 
 beard ! by Jupiter ! I will so carve thy chin that thou 
 wilt never wear beard again ! so wilt thou be saved 
 the trouble of combing it hereafter. God's death ! and I 
 will have a piece of thy nose, and thy long ears, before I 
 cut thy lying throat. O, mart de ma vie! friend Lanard, 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. I25 
 
 'tis fine sport, for I play with this varlet as a cat does 
 with a mouse ! " 
 
 " Make an end of him if you can, and quickly, too ! " 
 shouted Lanard, who did not forget that they were still out- 
 numbered. " Guard yourself, Rolin ! " he exclaimed, as he 
 saw the man whom the count had disarmed, approaching 
 the student. But the latter was too intent upon an artistic 
 exhibition of his skill, to notice this new attack, and still 
 continued to make feints, while his tongue kept pace with 
 his wrist, as he hurled abuse and scorn at his antagonist. 
 
 Meantime, count Guy had forced de Roye backward, 
 step by step, until he could retreat no farther without com- 
 ing in contact with the wall of a house, and when the 
 baron could no longer give ground, the superior sword- 
 manship of the count was soon apparent ; a few sweeps 
 of his blade decided the contest, for the baron's sword 
 was struck from his hand, and he was at Guy's mercy. 
 Whether he would have spared his life is very doubtful, 
 for he had reason to be, and was, extremely incensed at 
 this murderous assault, and, besides, he had vowed to 
 avenge the insult to Yolande de Coucy. At this moment 
 the cowardly servant, seeing his master disarmed, dared 
 not go to his assistance, and feared to encounter the long 
 sword of the man-at-arms, who had wounded his antagonist 
 severely. Choosing then what seemed the safest course, 
 he had stolen up behind the student, and raising his sword 
 was about to give him a stroke that would certainly have 
 ended the days of that ornament of the University of 
 Paris. But the warning shout of Lanard saved Rolin's 
 life, as well as that of the baron, for Guy, seeing at a 
 glance the danger in which the student was placed, reached 
 him in time to receive the descending blow upon his 
 sword, and snatching the dagger from his belt, with his 
 
126 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 left hand, he dashed its hilt with such force into the face 
 of the miscreant as to stretch him stunned and bleeding 
 upon the ground. The baron made use of the time thus 
 gained : he leaped over a wall and disappeared, abandon- 
 ing his men to their fate. They, seeing one of their num- 
 ber lifeless on the ground, and their master fled, avoided 
 the swords of Lanard and Rolin as well as they could ; 
 they were bleeding from numerous wounds, and the stu- 
 dent had partially fulfilled his promise to his opponent, 
 who had lost one of bis ears and a part of his chin. Ro- 
 lin would gladly have continued to dissect his subject, 
 which he could have done with ease, for he was no match 
 for him in skill, and was terrified at the prospect amiably 
 held out to him of being carved into small pieces. But 
 the count put an end to the combat. He desired Rolin 
 to hold his hand, and compelled the baron's men to give' 
 up their weapons, bidding them carry away their comrade 
 who was still insensible. 
 
 " Perhaps it is folly to let them escape," thought Guy, 
 as they retreated, bearing their companion with them, "but 
 they are not so much to blame, after all, and I cannot see 
 them cut to pieces in cold blood ; but they have had a 
 lesson they will not soon forget." 
 
 Indeed they had been roughly handled, and presented a 
 pitiable spectacle as they dragged themselves away; nor 
 was there much comfort for them in the prospect of meet- 
 ing their master, whose violent temper would not be im- 
 proved by the failure of a scheme he had thought certain 
 of success. Guy turned to the student to thank him for 
 his timely assistance, but Rolin exclaimed : " Thank me 
 not, my lord, but rather let me thank you for saving my 
 life, for had you not caught the blow yon coward aimed 
 at me, I had been fairly sped. You have a strong arm 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 127 
 
 and a quick eye, my lord Count : by our Lady, that back- 
 ward stroke of yours was wonderful ! I never saw the 
 like of it, and we think ourselves good swordsmen at the 
 University." 
 
 The count smiled, as he answered : " 'Tis like I have 
 had more practice than most, and my good Lanard taught 
 me that backward sweep of the arm. Faith ! I am glad to 
 see you are not hurt. Master Rolin, and you," he added, 
 turning to Lanard, " I hope you are not wounded." 
 
 " Not a scratch, my lord." 
 
 " Good ! then we have all escaped unhurt, but I doubt 
 we would have been so fortunate if master Rolin had not 
 come up." 
 
 " Never speak of it, my lord," said he, " I would not 
 have missed this for a silk-lined cloak ! but I wish they 
 had not escaped so easily, for I would fain have had a few 
 more cuts at the face of that knave. Ha, ha ! my lord, 
 you should have seen him tremble when I told him his 
 face was too long, and I would e'en shorten it by cutting 
 oif his pointed chin." 
 
 " Your pleasantry would have cost you dear," said La- 
 nard, "had the count not stopped the blow that would 
 have cloven your head. At such times, comrade, 'tis best 
 to be on your guard against surprises." 
 
 " You say true," rejoined the student, " and I will not 
 forget the lesson." 
 
 " Right, friend Rolin, quick work is safest when there 
 is a naked sword behind you. But, my lord," asked La- 
 nard, " did the baron escape ? " 
 
 " Yes," said the count, in a tone of regret. " I had 
 disarmed him when I heard your shout, and faith ! I had 
 but just time to reach our friend here. By our Lady, it 
 
128 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 angers me that he should have got away without punish- 
 ment ! " 
 
 " 'Tis a pity," returned Lanard, " for he will not rest 
 until he has his revenge, and your life will never be safe 
 while he is at large. Will you walk on, my lord, or will 
 you return to the inn ? " 
 
 They retraced their steps to the Cerf Blanc, where Guy 
 found a messenger from the marquis de la Rivifere, and 
 taking from him the letters he had brought, he went to his 
 room to read them, leaving the man to the care of Lanard 
 and Rolin, who were soon deeply engaged in discussing 
 the adventure they had just had. The messenger and 
 Robert Bonel listened eagerly to the student's animated 
 description of the affray, which certainly lost nothing 
 through his narration, for he did not scruple to make vari- 
 ous additions to the truth, exaggerating and embellishing 
 as he thought proper to heighten the interest, as an artist 
 dashes in bits of vivid coloring to render his landscape 
 more picturesque. 
 
 As Rolin finished his story, the honest Robert ejacu- 
 lated : " Holy Virgin ! what villains they must be ! To 
 think they would have murdered my lord count, and you 
 too, friends ! What would my lord marquis have said, if 
 the count had lost his life at my veiy door, and I not by 
 to strike a blow for him ! Our Lady be thanked that you 
 were near, Master Rolin, and," he added, crossing him. 
 self, " may I stay forever in purgatory, if I think evil of 
 you again ! Wilt swear eternal friendship with me, Mas- 
 ter Rolin ? " 
 
 " Willingly," replied he, holding out his hand, " and so, 
 Robert, you will not look on me with distrust again ? 
 Good, for by St. Genevibve ! you may .place confidence in 
 me, and if you will let Mistress Susanna fetch us some 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 1 29 
 
 wine, I will show you how respectfully I can treat her. 
 Devil take me, but you are a lucky fellow to have such 
 a wife, and I warrant she thinks there is no man in the 
 world like you. Soho, Lanard, when a girl gets such a 
 husband as Robert here, she ought to think herself 
 lucky." 
 " Yes, yes," said Lanard gravely, " so she should." 
 Bonel who was not insensible to flattery went to the 
 door, and called his wife who presently came in with a 
 plentiful supply of wine, which she placed on the table. 
 She glanced a little doubtingly at Lanard and Rolin, for 
 she scarcely knew what to think of being allowed to 
 wait upon them, which Robert had been careful not to 
 do for some time past. However, she filled their cups 
 and accepted their greeting very demurely, for the sup- 
 pressed twinkle in Rolin's eyes as they met hers, assured 
 her that he had neither forgotten or regretted the stolen 
 kiss that had so enraged her husband. But he seemed 
 now to have cast away his jealousy, and only thought of 
 making himself agreeable to the former object of his 
 suspicion. 
 
 Guy was deeply interested in the contents of the 
 packet, which informed him of the progress of the peas- 
 ant insurrection and of the measures taken to suppress 
 it. The marquis assured him that Guillaume Callet and 
 those who followed him would soon receive a terrible 
 punishment, that he had aroused the nobles, had gath- 
 ered a strong force in the neighborhood of Meux, and had 
 strengthened the garrison of that city which he did not 
 think the peasants would dare attack. He asked Guy 
 to send him word of the condition of things at Paris, 
 and of the progress he had made, and though the 
 count read all this with the natural eagerness of 
 9 
 
130 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 one who has had no reliable news for a long time, he 
 was still more interested in what followed. For the 
 marquis went on to say that he had seen the Sire de 
 Coucy, who, unable to return to Paris, and hearing that 
 Guy was there, begged him to see his daughter, assure 
 her of his safety, and say to her that he wished her to 
 go back to Coucy. The marquis stated that de Coucy 
 was alarmed at the reports he heard from Paris, and 
 feared lest there should be some wild outbreak there 
 that would place Yolande in danger. He thought she 
 would be safer at Coucy, whither it did not seem prob- 
 able now, that the peasant revolt would extend, and 
 although he did not know whether it would be possible 
 to send her there, he requested Guy to see whether it 
 would be safe for her to make the journey, and if so, to 
 provide her with a suitable escort. If this was impossi- 
 ble, he entreated the young count to watch over her 
 safety, until he was able to leave the camp, and trustecf 
 that he would render him this service for the sake of his 
 father's ancient friendship ; and he sent a small packet to 
 Yolande, explaining more particularly his reasons for 
 wishing her to proceed to Coucy if she could do so in 
 safety. 
 
 Guy was delighted at the opportunity thus afforded 
 him of continuing his acquaintance with Yolande. He 
 thought to himself that it should not be his fault if 
 he neglected to improve the opportunity Heaven had 
 sent, and it .was with a light heart that he placed the 
 packet in his breast, and seating himself, began to write 
 to the marquis. He gave him a careful account of what 
 he had accomplished, and asked him to say to the Sire 
 de Coucy that he thanked him for the confidence reposed 
 in him, and that he heartily desired to continue his 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 131 
 
 father's friendship. He assured him that it should be 
 his care to see that Yolande set out with a safe escort, 
 unless it were impossible to leave the city, and that in 
 any event he should consider it his duty to defend her at 
 the peril of his life. He requested the marquis to send 
 him more definite instructions upon certain points about 
 which he was uncertain, and if possible to arrange for 
 more frequent communication. He then summoned the 
 messenger, and finding that he was able to return at 
 once, gave him his missive to de la Rivifere, and bestow- 
 ing a piece of gold upon him, bade him make his way 
 back with all speed. 
 
 Leaving the count to indulge himself in pleasant antic- 
 ipations of a visit to Yolande, which we may be sure he 
 did not long defer, let us turn our attention to the scenes 
 taking place in the neighborhood of Meux, 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 When the peasants surrounded that heap of stones by 
 the river Marne, and heard in fear and trembUng the 
 invitation to revolt, they had assembled there by stealth 
 to listen to the words of Guillaume Callet. They had 
 not dared to raise their voices lest the wind should bear 
 the sound to those who would betray them. Silently they 
 gathered there, formed their brotherhood, and bound 
 themselves with oaths to devote their lives to the de- 
 struction of the nobles ; silently they dispersed, stealing 
 away by twos and threes, so fearful of discovery that the 
 breaking of a twig beneath their feet startled them, the 
 light foot-falls of the deer as they bounded across the 
 glades seemed to them the tramp of horses in pursuit, 
 and the croaking of the frogs was magnified into the 
 shouts of men who chased them. It was so new a thing 
 for them to think for themselves, to act independently, to 
 separate themselves from the will of their masters, that 
 they trembled at their own audacity. They could not per- 
 suade themselves that they would not be overtaken by 
 swift and certain punishment. 
 
 Whence arose these feelings — this dim regret that was 
 not repentance ; this shudder at a voluntary act ; the dread 
 that made those men start aside and look fearfully 
 behind them, as they passed through the forest that 
 night — or was it the deception of the moonlight, that 
 made them see by every rock and tree, the giant figure 
 of a phantom stretching out his arms as if to seize them ? 
 
 132 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 1 33 
 
 No, they were simply afraid ; they were terrified at the 
 rebellion they had conceived, at the oaths they had sworn, 
 at the very thought of lifting their hands against those 
 whom they had been accustomed to serve upon their 
 knees, to treat with reverence as though they had been 
 gods. Fear summoned up the phantoms of the forest to 
 mock them ; to shriek in their ears that they were mad 
 to dream of taking vengeance on those who would crush 
 them beneath their horses' feet, who would mutilate their 
 limbs and break them on the wheel ! 
 
 If these men had failed in their first attack upon the 
 nobles, they would have yielded at once, so firmly was 
 the habit of submission implanted in their breasts ; and it 
 required the exertion of all his influence, for Callet to per- 
 suade them to strike the first blow. But when they saw 
 that this was not punished as a sacrilege, that Ervanne 
 had fallen into their hands and yet Heaven did not blast 
 them with its lightning, they took courage. Thencefor- 
 ward the persons of the seigneurs were no longer sacred 
 in their eyes, and having once shed their blood they cast 
 away the terror that had oppressed them at this thought, 
 and passing from one extreme to the other with the 
 thoughtlessness of ignorance, they exulted in what had be- 
 fore seemed to them a profanation. The sanguinary 
 judgment that we have seen Callet administering in his 
 hut, had now become habitual. All were intoxicated with 
 blood. Having desolated the surrounding country, hav. 
 ing pillaged and burnt the castles that were not strong 
 enough to resist them, the peasants thought their object 
 was already accomplished, and that they had shaken off 
 forever the bondage of their lords. Perhaps they had 
 achieved the end they most ardently longed for : revenge. 
 
 The cruel slavery to which they were subjected had 
 
134 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 roused such hatred in their breasts, as to leave no room 
 there for any other feeling than a burning desire to avenge 
 themselves on their oppressors, and shake off their yoke. 
 Their aspirations did not extend beyond that point. 
 None among them was intelligent enough to see that this 
 was but the first step toward freedom ; none pointed out 
 to them that even this first step was false, and would de- 
 feat their object. For once in their lives they had abun- 
 dance of food and drink ; they decked themselves in 
 costly garments, they rejoiced that they had spoiled the 
 spoiler, and this shadowy independence satisfied them for 
 the moment. They did not perceive the black clouds 
 gathering on the horizon ; they did not divine or guard 
 against the storm that muttered ominously, and was des- 
 tined to overwhelm them ! If they had possessed a leader 
 more intelligent than themselves, who can say what the 
 result of their struggle might have been ; and yet it is prob- 
 able that if Callet had been wise, and firm and moder- 
 ate, as he was ignorant, vacillating and cruel, he would 
 have had no influence over them. But the very quali- 
 ties that rendered him unfit to direct this movement 
 of the people so that good should result from it, gave 
 him unbounded sway over his followers. They were 
 impelled to revolt by the remembrance of injuries 
 received, hardships endured, unjust punishment borne ; 
 by desire of revenge upon an individual tyrant, by 
 some special grievance that they hoped to escape from or 
 take bitter vengeance for, while the heart of Guillaume 
 Callet was filled with every evil passion. He sympathized 
 with every motive, with every ferocious instinct that ani- 
 mated the peasants : all of their grievances, all of their 
 hatreds found an echo in his breast. If his com- 
 panions were partjally satisfied with what they had ac- 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 13 5 
 
 complished, he was still insatiable. The flame that 
 consumed him burned more fiercely than ever, and 
 the demons that inspired him quaffed the blood 
 with which he deluged their altars, and evermore de- 
 manded new victims. To satisfy them, to offer them a 
 banquet where helplessness and innocence should be the 
 sacrifice, he now proposed to attack the town of Meux, 
 hoping to find there full scope to gratify the fury that 
 seethed within his heart. It seemed as though a legion of 
 devils had taken refuge in his bosom, and transformed 
 the man into a fiend. He was the incarnation of the 
 Jacquerie ! 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The afternoon sunlight was casting long shadows on 
 the cleared and level space in front of the forest of 
 Ermonne, but this spot formerly so quiet and peaceful 
 now presented a very different aspect, for upon it was 
 encamped the peasant army. The ground was cov- 
 ered with rude huts built of logs or underbrush, 
 thatched with straw and rushes, or with leafy boughs 
 alone. Imperfect as they were, they nevertheless 
 afforded a sufficient shelter from the mid-summer heat, 
 and those who lived in them were too well inured to 
 hardships, to regard such slight discomforts as were more 
 than counterbalanced by the joy they felt at having 
 shaken off the fetters of the nobles. 
 
 In those frail dwellings the peasants tasted the pleas- 
 ures of a freedom unknown and undreamed of before, 
 and abandoned themselves to the enjoyment of a fleeting 
 liberty. The camp, if it could so be called, was unguarded 
 and without discipline, and its inmates strolled carelessly 
 about in search of amusement. Some were shooting at 
 targets, some were hurling stones to test their strength 
 and skill, others had thrown themselves upon the grass 
 and were satisfied to rest idly in the shade. From the 
 doors of the huts came the shrill cries of women who were 
 preparing their evening meal, for there was no lack of 
 food ; forest and river yielded their tribute, and quantities 
 of wine had been saved from the burning castles. 
 An air of reckless security pervaded this camp of the 
 
 136 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 137 
 
 Jacquiers, from which arose at intervals wild bursts of 
 laughter, mingled with howls and curses ; for no law was 
 observed there but that of the strong hand. Strength of 
 arm decided all contests, and the weak must submit to be 
 robbed by those who were able to take from them what 
 they coveted. Only constant employment could bind to- 
 gether this band of robbers, who fought with each other 
 for what they had stolen, and their leader, well aware of 
 this, did not mean to allow them to remain idle. 
 
 As he sat alone Guillaume Callet brooded darkly over 
 the project he had conceived. Antoine Soulas, the mayor 
 of Meux, had consented to an interview, and Jacques had 
 gone to conduct him to the camp, or rather to the hut 
 where Callet awaited his coming. This hut was within 
 the forest, and stood upon the edge of a small stream that 
 plunged into a ravine completely hidden by the thick 
 growth of stunted trees and underbush that grew upon its 
 margin. On two sides the approach was obstructed by a 
 wall of rock, that sloped away from the sides of this hut that 
 nestled at its foot, and then rose perpendicularly to the 
 height of some forty feet. The upper part of this rock 
 was smooth and bare, but near its base were crevices and 
 spots of soil sufficient to give root to trees, which, growing 
 at an angle, overhung the hut and concealed it from 
 above. It could be approached from the edge of the 
 forest, in front of which lay the peasants' camp, but 
 Callet was far too cunning to allow them to discover an- 
 other path that led through the tangled growth of the 
 ravine, and up the bed of the small stream that fell into 
 it. Jacques alone was aware of this path ; it was by this 
 that he had left the camp to go to Paris and urge Marcel 
 to fulfil his promises, and by this route he was now con- 
 ducting the mayor of Meux to his interview with Callet. 
 
138 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 Thus their various negotiations were carried on with- 
 out the knowledge of the peasants, wlio were kept in ig- 
 norance of the means employed to induce others to join 
 them. This, however, only served to increase their re- 
 spect for a leader who could procure friends without 
 apparent effort, and in some mysterious way which they 
 were unable to understand. Then, too, he had known 
 how to inflame their minds, to rekindle the fire of hatred 
 that began to smoulder in their breasts, and when he told 
 them that the citizens of Paris and of Meux would aid 
 them, they demanded to be led at once against the latter 
 town, by whose capture Callet assured them they would 
 deal a death-blow to the pride of their former masters. 
 But although he asserted that the success of this attack 
 was certain, he was far from feeling confident of it, for he 
 knew that the city was too strong to yield to him, unless 
 he was aided by treachery from within its walls. Could 
 he induce the mayor to betray his trust, and how ? this 
 was the problem that occupied his mind as he waited for 
 the coming of his emissary. 
 
 It was already dusk when Jacques appeared leading 
 Antoine Soulas by the hand, for he had carefully Wind- 
 folded him before conducting him through the secret path. 
 Removing the bandage from his eyes, Jacques addressed 
 Soulas in a harsh voice : 
 
 " Here is our leader, Guillaume Callet," he said, " make 
 your bargain with him, Master Mayor, and be sure it is a 
 good one for yourself ! " 
 
 " Trust me for that," returned Soulas ; " and so this is 
 the great Callet, the captain of the peasants. All France 
 has heard of your deeds, brave captain ; I do you rever- 
 ence as the champion of the people ! " and he bowed low 
 before this man, who stood looking at him from under- 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 139 
 
 neath his bushy eyebrows with a mingled air of distrust 
 and contempt. He held out his hand, however, and point- 
 ing to a block of wood, asked his visitor to sit down. 
 
 The mayor seated himself and Callet placed himself 
 beside him, while Jacques stood opposite to them ; thus 
 they prepared to hold their conference, but before be- 
 ginning it they regarded each other with furtive glances, 
 as though each would penetrate the thoughts of the other. 
 The mayor was a small man and insignificant in his per- 
 son. A low forehead was surmounted by curly brown 
 hair, his face was pale and thin, and his greenish eyes 
 wandered restlessly about without fixing themselves upon 
 any object, and yet taking note of all. His drooping 
 lower lip exhibited a row of yellow teeth, that adorned a 
 mouth distorted by a perpetual smile ; his feeble chin be- 
 tokened the weakness of his character, and his move- 
 ments had a servility that aroused the contempt of these 
 peasants who had been slaves. 
 
 No greater contrast could be imagined than that be- 
 tween Antoine Soulas and the man who sat beside him. 
 Of almost Herculean stature, the powerful figure of the 
 peasant might have been taken for an antique model of 
 physical development, had it not been for the fatal droop 
 of his neck and shoulders — the heritage of bondage. 
 There was character in his face, but it was that which 
 repelled and made one shudder. His forehead too was 
 low, and encroached upon by the coarse black hair that 
 fell in matted locks upon his shoulders. His massive 
 square cut chin showed the determination of which he 
 was capable, but his lips and mouth proved that his will 
 was subject to his passions, while the burning light within 
 his eyes, and their stealthy sidelong glances reminded 
 one of a treacherous animal that seeks to fascinate, before 
 
14° BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 springing upon its victim. Jacques was the first to break 
 the silence, whicli he did with a loud laugh. 
 
 " Ho ho," he cried, " why do you stare thus, like two 
 strange dogs ready to fly at each others' throats ! I think 
 you would have the worst at that game, Master Mayor," 
 he added, with a grin. 
 
 Soulas started, but quickly replied : " You are right, 
 friend. I should be but a mouthful for this brave cap- 
 tain ; he could crush me with two of his fingers." 
 
 Callet smiled contemptuously, as he said : " That is not 
 what you came here to talk about. Tell me whether you 
 are on our side or against us." 
 
 " Why," replied Soulas, " that is according to circum- 
 stances ; that depends, my captain, on whether we can 
 agree." 
 
 " What do you mean, and what do you want ? " 
 
 " I .'' Oh, very little. I want you to be quite satisfied, 
 and your good people, too ; but there are preliminaries, 
 captain, and we must adjust them." 
 
 " I know not what you mean," returned Callet, impa- 
 tiently. 
 
 "There are preliminary arrangements to be made," 
 continued Soulas, with a pompous air, rolling out the 
 words as though he knew his listeners did not under- 
 stand them, " that is to say," he went on, waving his 
 hand and smiling in a condescending manner, " that is to 
 say, we must not act hastily : we must consider ; we must 
 have articles of agreement and the writing of a notary." 
 
 " To the devil with your long words, and tell me 
 plainly whether you will open the gates." 
 
 Startled by the savage tone in which this demand was 
 made, Soulas stammered and turned pale. Jacques 
 grinned : ." Ho, ho ! " said he, " you had best not trifle 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 141 
 
 with Guillaume I can tell you, Master Mayor, or it will be 
 the worse for you ! " 
 
 " Trifle with you, good Master Jacques ! and you, my 
 brave captain ? " answered Soulas, rubbing his trembling 
 hands. " O, no, not for the world, not for the whole 
 world indeed, my master ! " 
 
 "Why do you not answer then," and Callet spoke in a 
 milder tone, for he was fearful of defeating the object he 
 had in view, and did not wish to terrify the little mayor, 
 who was evidently alarmed already. 
 
 " Come, you must not mind our rough ways, for Jac- 
 ques and I be plain men, and not used to fine words ; 
 but we mean no harm and want to be your friends. 
 Tell us then whether you will open the gates for us ; 
 that is all we want to know." 
 
 Jacques nodded approval. " That is the question, 
 master, only answer it and we shall know what to do." 
 
 Soulas moved uneasily on his seat. He was unwilling to 
 come to the point at once, but he saw that these men 
 understood no phrases, and that they wanted to know 
 whether he would betray Meux, and upon what terms. 
 Now he had determined to have a rich reward for this 
 service, and that having obtained it, he would fly the 
 country. His was one of those avaricious souls that 
 thirsts for gold, and does not scruple to sell itself to the 
 devil to gain it. To lay his hands on a goodly amount of 
 the treasure he knew to be within the city, he was pre- 
 pared to betray the trust reposed in him, and abandon the 
 inhabitants to the fury of a horde of savages ; but he 
 was not ready to fix the price of his treachery. While 
 he was reflecting, and trying to decide upon the exact 
 sum he should demand, Callet tried to restrain his 
 impatience : finally he asked the mayor whether he had 
 
142 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 made up his mind. Soulas turned his uneasy eyes upon 
 him, and his mouth trembled as he replied : 
 
 "Yes, my brave captain, I have, and I hope you will be 
 pleased with my decision." 
 
 " Well then, will you open the gates ? " 
 
 The voice of the mayor shook as he answered : " Yes, 
 I will— but— " 
 
 " But what ? " 
 
 " You cannot expect me to do so, unless — unless I 
 receive some advantage," said Soulas, hesitatingly. 
 
 " But," rejoined Callet, " you said you were a friend of 
 the people : you will serve them by letting them enter 
 Meux; is that not reward enough ? and then," continued 
 he, his brow darkening, " you will be revenged upon the 
 nobles ; does that count for nothing, or do you love them. 
 Master Mayor ? " 
 
 " No, no, valiant captain, I love them not, and care 
 not what torments you make them suffer, but I am a man 
 of peace and do not love shedding blood myself." 
 
 " Ho ! then you want to be paid ? " 
 
 " Yes, captain, so please you." 
 
 " But how am I to pay you," demanded Callet, " I have 
 no gold." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Soulas, drawing a long breath, and the 
 smile that overspread his face grew greedy as he spoke. 
 " Ah, brave captain, I can show you enough gold to 
 enrich your whole army, and make you a prince ! and if 
 you will give me a small portion for my own, a reasonable 
 sum — " 
 
 " You will open the gates of Meux ? " 
 
 "Yes, my captain, yes. Master Jacques." 
 
 " Now we know at last what you want," growled Jac- 
 ques with an oath. 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 1 43 
 
 " How much shall we give you," asked Callet. " Come, 
 let us finish, but remember that without us you could 
 never touch a ddnier of this treasure, so be moderate and 
 we will try to satisfy you. Now, let us hear the price you 
 ask." 
 
 " Ten thousand crowns of gold ! " said Soulas. 
 
 Upon hearing this, both the peasants uttered an 
 exclamation of astonishment. To them it was a sum so 
 enormous as to be beyond their comprehension. They 
 looked at each other, and then turned their glances upon 
 the mayor, who was more composed. But his composure 
 vanished before the angry looks of his companions, who 
 addressed him in tones of fury. 
 
 " Do you mock us ! " cried both together. 
 
 "Have you come to make sport of us ?" demanded 
 Callet, " by the devil, it shall be a sorry jest 1 " 
 
 " I will make my axe acquainted with your neck ! " 
 thundered Jacques. Soulas made an effort to command 
 himself, though his teeth chattered with fear, as he said : 
 
 " Softly, softly, my good masters, be not so violent but 
 listen to me a moment, and you shall see that I am not 
 mocking you, or jesting : how should I dare do that, my 
 masters .' Have patience then, while I explain, and you 
 will see. O yes, you will see that I mean well, and am 
 not unreasonable." 
 
 " But ten thousand crowns ! " exclaimed Callet, " you 
 are mad, you have lost your wits ! There is not so much 
 gold in the whole world ! " 
 
 Soulas smiled at this ignorance. One could see the 
 gleam of his yellow teeth by the light of the torch stuck 
 in the ground in the centre of the hut, but he did not dare 
 to laugh aloud, and his voice was smooth and obsequious 
 as he said : " Brave captain, and you, good Master Jac- 
 
144 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 ques, do not think I would tell you a lie, or seek to de- 
 ceive men who have performed such great deeds ; and I 
 swear by the bones of St. Faron, that there is in Meux 
 gold enough to fill this hut ten times. All the nobles 
 carried their treasure thither, and their wives have store 
 of rich jewels. This wealth, then, I will place' in your 
 hands, and of it I ask for myself but ten thousand crowns, 
 — 'tis a pitiful portion, indeed, my masters." 
 
 " What part of the whole treasure would it be ? " asked 
 Callet, who was somewhat appeased, " how ma;iy heaps 
 of ten thousand crowns would there be in all ? " 
 
 The mayor was amused at this singular method of 
 reckoning, but pretended to make a careful calculation, 
 and replied that the entire treasure would make about five 
 hundred heaps, each of ten thousand crowns in value. 
 
 The two peasants gazed at each other, and made no 
 effort to conceal their surprise. " If this be true " said 
 Callet, " what you ask is not so unreasonable, and you 
 shall have it." 
 
 " There may be a trifle less or more, but you would not 
 blame me if there should not be the exact amount ? " 
 
 " No, Master Mayor, if there is one half as much as you 
 say, you will deserve your portion ! " 
 
 " That he will ! " exclaimed Jacques, clapping him on 
 the shoulder, " and so you like gold better than revenge, 
 my master .■" " 
 
 " Yes, good Jacques, far better," returned Soulas, " but 
 you, my brave captains, will have both, and that is better 
 still. Ha, ha, much better!" Having arrived at an 
 understanding, they seated themselves around a rough 
 table, upon which Jacques placed both food and wine. 
 They discussed their plans at length, and determined 
 that the force sent from Paris should be admitted into 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 145 
 
 Meux, instead of joining Callet's army, for the mayor de- 
 clared that the Provost's men would be of more service if 
 they were allowed to enter the city secretly, and before 
 the peasants, whom they could afterward join. Callet 
 agreed to this, and as Soulas was in haste to return, he 
 was again blindfolded and conducted through the ravine 
 by Jacques, who then set him free upon the high-road 
 leading to the city. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 The next day was the anniversary of the founding of 
 the commune of Meux. The streets were crowded with 
 citizens, who, with their wives and daughters, all in gala 
 dress, followed the procession on its way to the town-hall. 
 In front marched the members of the council, headed 
 by the mayor in his civic robes. Around his neck was a 
 silver chain to which was attached a small cross, which 
 he raised devoutly to his lips whenever the procession 
 halted. The little mayor was more at his ease than he had 
 been in the presence of Guillaume Callet, and congratu- 
 lated himself on the good bargain he had made with him. 
 His cat-like eyes fastened themselves upon the rich armor 
 of the knights, who reined in their horses and watched 
 this celebration with a disdainful air ; nor did he fail to 
 mark the gleam of silk and cloth of gold, and the flash of 
 jewels, as he passed beneath the windows where noble 
 ladies sat smiling scornfully at this display of civic free- 
 dom. In his heart he wished it were possible for him to 
 wrench away those gems, to seize the golden chains, to 
 clutch and hold the wealth that dazzled his eyes which he 
 cast in feigned humility upon the ground, only raising 
 them for a covert and hasty look at the objects of his 
 desire. 
 
 " Patience," he said to himself, " let me have but 
 patience, and I will soon share the spoil of these proud 
 dames and lords who rufHe it so gayly ; and then I will 
 away to some land where I may feast my eyes with 
 
 146 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 1 47 
 
 gold ! " His hands trembled as they lifted the cross, 
 and he moistened his dry lips like a hungry animal, who 
 sees before him food which he longs to snatch, but -dares 
 not. At length they reached the town-hall which the mayor 
 entered, followed by the council, and as many citizens as 
 could force their way in. A clerk unlocks a coffer, and 
 taking from it the city charter, hands it to the little mayor, 
 who draws himself up to the full height of his insignifi- 
 cant figure as he receives it. As he slowly unrolls the 
 precious manuscript, he is fully conscious of its impor- 
 tance and of the dignity of his own position. He swells his 
 breast, and puffs out his thin cheeks, as he reads in a high, 
 shrill voice, and as he nears the end he pauses, glancing 
 complacently about, while he toys with his silver chain a 
 moment before concluding in as impressive a manner as 
 he can assume : 
 
 " And these aforesaid privileges and immunities are 
 hereby granted by us, to our faithful vassals and subjects, 
 the good citizens of our town of Meux, to be held and 
 enjoyed by them and their descendants forever, upon the 
 conditions herein and aforesaid. 
 
 Given at our city of Meux ii79' 
 
 i Henri, Comte of Champagne and Brie. 
 Marie. 
 Henri le Jeune. 
 " Citizens," said the mayor, " we have assembled ac- 
 cording to our ancient custom, and have heard the words 
 of the charter establishing our commune, and granting us 
 civic freedom and immunities, which we are entitled to 
 maintain and enjoy forever, we and our children, by the 
 free gift and grace of our most noble lord count, who is 
 departed. May his soul rest in Paradise ! " 
 
 He then returned the document to the clerk, who re- 
 placed it in the coffer, and the crowd dispersed. As he 
 
148 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 left the Jiall he was accosted by a nobleman who reined 
 in his horse and signed to the mayor to approach. He 
 obeyed the signal with alacrity, running forward with so 
 much haste as to stumble over his robe. Recovering 
 himself, he bowed to the ground as the marqiiis de la 
 Rivifere addressed him. 
 
 " Soho! Master Mayor, you have been mumbling over 
 your mouldy old charter again ! do you not yet know it by 
 heart, that you must come here with a crowd at your 
 heels, and holiday garb on your back ? " 
 
 " 'Tis our ancient privilege, so please you, most mighty 
 lord." 
 
 " Ancient privilege ! ancient folly, you should say," re- 
 turned the marquis, " you would be better employed in 
 your shops, or if you must needs go in solemn procession ; 
 trudge to the tomb of St. Faron, and pay your devotion at 
 his shrine where miracles can be performed." 
 
 " By your favor, most noble Marquis, I will to the Ab- 
 bey church, and pray the saint to deliver us from the 
 hands of the peasants," answered Soulas humbly. 
 
 The marquis laughed. " Away with you, then, and 
 wear your knees to the bone at his tomb. Methinks, 
 knave, your dear city would fare ill, an it had no better 
 defence against Guillaume Callet than your bourgeois 
 prayers. Thank your patron saint, Mayor, that he has 
 not abandoned you to so weak a guard as a dead man's 
 bones ! thank him that there are noble swords here to 
 protect his tomb from desecration, and his city from de- 
 struction ! " 
 
 " I will, my lord ! O yes, I will bless him for sending 
 us a leader, the sound of whose name would cause an 
 army to fly." 
 
 "Call not me your leader, knave, I am no leader of 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 1 49 
 
 such as you," returned the marquis frowning. " But be- 
 gone to your prayers, and hark ye. Master Mayor, let me see 
 no more of these idle mummeries or my men-at-arms 
 shall clear the streets with the butt ends of their spears," 
 — and spurring his horse, he dashed forward, nearly over- 
 turning the mayor, who stood by the charger's shoulder. 
 The marquis de la Rivifere, like most of the nobles of 
 the time, took no pains to conceal his contempt for the 
 people, but his contempt would have been mingled with 
 distrust had he seen the bitter smile that overspread the 
 features of Antoine Soulas, as he gazed after his retreating 
 form. The mayor still stood with his body bowed down, 
 in the same attitude of abject humiliation in which he had 
 listened to the scornful words flung to him as a bone is 
 flung to a dog. But as the dog crouches before the lash, 
 yet dares to show his teeth and growl as soon as his 
 master's back is turned, so this man ground and gnashed 
 his yellow teeth, muttering curses as he raised himself and 
 walked away. Reaching his own house he locked himself 
 into his room, and gave way to the rage he dared not 
 indulge before the eyes of others. His pale face was 
 covered with beads of perspiration, his narrow forehead 
 contracted with wrinkles, his hands clenched, and his 
 hideous mouth with its drooping lip gave him a venom- 
 ous aspect. He rushed about the room like a wild 
 man, overturning everything that came in his way ; he 
 beat his fists and even his head against the walls, utter- 
 ing inarticulate howls, and biting his lips until they were 
 covered with drops of blood and foam. Presently he 
 recovered himself, the fit appeared to leave him, his feat- 
 ures gradually composed themselves, and he threw him- 
 self into a seat, drawing his breath at first in gasps, and 
 then in long, trembling sighs, as though thoroughly 
 
150 BEFORK THE DAWN. 
 
 exhausted. After resting for a moment, he went to a 
 corner of the room and plunged his head into a large 
 basin of cold water, laving his face and neck ; then seat- 
 ing himself again, he leaned his head upon his hands, 
 remaining in that posture for some time. When he 
 looked up all trace of the frenzy had vanished ; his feat- 
 ures had relaxed and presented the same crafty, greedy 
 and repulsive appearance as usual. 
 
 " We shall see," he muttered, " we shall see whether 
 your noble swords are strong enough to save you from 
 the peasant axe. I am no man of blood, and yet I would 
 like well, proud marquis of Rivifere, to see you on your 
 knees, your neck upon the block, and I to strike the blow 
 that would roll your head in the dust ! I, the mayor, 
 am a knave and varlet, and fit to mumble prayers, and 
 our city charter is but folly in your eyes, and we but fools 
 to be scourged from our own streets ! Fools, forsooth ; 
 I should be fool indeed to lose the gold the peasant 
 promised, for the sake of those who count us as the 
 creeping things beneath their feet ! Ten thousand crowns ! 
 Aha, 'tis a goodly sum ! But I trust not this Guillaume 
 Callet : no, no, I must make sure that he does not cheat 
 me. Ha, ha, I need not fear that the dull peasant will 
 overreach one like me. How I wish the day were come ! 
 Oh, how I wish — but patience, it will not be long, though 
 it seems long until I see the glitter of my darling gold. 
 Ah, where will I concea) it until I find means to fly? 
 Ten thousand crowns ! ha, ha ! but yet I should have 
 more than that : I, who will open the gates, yes more, 
 and jewels, some few jewels I must have, and I know 
 where to find them — Oh, how they sparkle ! I can see 
 them now before me ! But softly, let me be sure and 
 trust no one, lest I lose all. Aha ! trust none, trust 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 151 
 
 none!" and Soulas rubbed his hands and laughed glee- 
 fully. While he was thus engaged in gloating over the 
 riches to be acquired by his treachery, he had left his 
 seat and walked up and down murmuring to himself. 
 Presently he stopped, went to the door, tried the lock, 
 and placing his ear against the panels, listened carefully : 
 then with a noiseless, stealthy tread he crossed the room, 
 and slopped before a figure of the Virgin that stood upon 
 a little pedestal against the wall. He knelt down before 
 this, and leaning forward, stretched out his hands ; but 
 it was not to supplicate the Madonna, for he seizes her 
 image, and removing it, places it with little reverence 
 upon the floor, not even bestowing a glance on the sacred 
 figure as it lies face downward. His eyes are fixed on 
 the place it had occupied, and his fingers tremble with 
 eagerness as he passes them along the smooth surface of 
 the wall, that is dark and discolored by numerous stains. 
 These stains seemed to have been caused by damp, or 
 mildew, and a careful glance would not have detected 
 the secret spring that they concealed. But Antoine 
 Soulas did not need to look for the spot that attracted 
 his fingers as the magnet attracts the needle, and to 
 which they could easily find their way in the darkest 
 night. His e3'es leave the wall and wander suspiciously 
 about the room, while he finds and presses upon the 
 spring that opens a hidden door, and discloses a small 
 recess where he conceals his hoards. Still upon his 
 knees on the low pedestal of the Virgin, he plunges both 
 his arms into the open space ; he clutches the coins and 
 holds them up to see them glitter, he presses his lips to 
 them, and listens as he drops them one by one ; their 
 ringing is the sweetest music to him : he piles them up in 
 little heaps and drags himself away to gaze on them, 
 
152 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 then throws himself forward and seizing, hugs them in 
 his arms, as though he fears they will escape ; he talks 
 to them as though they were living things. " Ah, my 
 precious treasures, my glittering darlings, you are mine, 
 mine ! Are you lonesome here when I am away ? 
 Patience then, and you shall have companions. Yes, do 
 you hear, ten thousand more to keep you company ; ha, 
 ha, my children ! and then you shall go with me, and 
 no longer hide yourselves in this dark hole. Oh, no, 
 for I will build a chamber for you where you may see 
 the sun — but no one else, my darlings, only the sun and 
 me!" 
 
 While he was grovelling before his shrine a loud 
 knock sounded on the door. He raised himself impa- 
 tiently and began to replace the coins ; his fingers lingered 
 over them as he put them back, but a second summons 
 warned him to make haste, and he completed his task 
 swiftly, noiselessly closed the secret door and restored 
 the Virgin to her place ; then looking to see that no sign 
 remained, he stood up, and walked softly to the door 
 where a third knock now resounded. Giving one more 
 suspicious glance around him, he drew back the "bolts 
 and demanded what was wanted. 
 
 A messenger stood without. " Good Mayor," said he, 
 "you are wanted instantly at the gate, where our Lord 
 Bishop is about to make his entry. Haste ! haste ! " and 
 he dragged the startled Soulas after him into the street. 
 
 In his anger and subsequent abstraction, the mayor 
 had entirely forgotten the part he was to perform in the 
 ceremony of which he was so rudely reminded, and he 
 hurried after the messenger, trembling with fear of 
 what might result from his thoughtlessness. When he ar- 
 rived panting and out of breath with the speed he had 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 1 53 
 
 made, he found a great crowd assembled, but the bishop 
 had not yet appeared, and Soulas breathed more freely at 
 escaping the severe reprimand he knew he would have re- 
 ceived, had his negligence kept him waiting before his ca- 
 thedral city. Among the nobles who awaited the coming 
 of the bishop the mayor perceived the marquis de la 
 Rivifere, and shrunk back into the crowd, hoping to es- 
 cape his observation, but in vain, for the stern glance 
 of the marquis fell upon him, and pushing his horse 
 forward he beckoned to him. " Mayor," he said, " you 
 have been long at your prayers, and you should have 
 been first where you are the last to come hither. ' Tis well 
 you lingered no longer, sirrah 1 " 
 
 " I humbly crave your pardon, noble Marquis," replied 
 Soulas, bowing his head before the angry glance thrown 
 upon him. " I — I was so engaged in prayer, that I gave 
 no heed to the passing time." The marquis laughed. 
 " Ha ! I knew not that you were such a holy man 1 Ab- 
 sorbed in prayer, forsooth ! St. Mary defend us 1 'Tis 
 like you mean to take orders." 
 
 Soulas folded his hands and replied with an expression 
 of deep humility, " I would I were worthy of such great 
 honor, but — " 
 
 " But you are a sinful man " interrupted de la Rivifere. 
 " Yes, I know it well, and a hypocrite to boot, with your 
 sanctimonious face. Hark ye. Mayor, ' tis said you hoard 
 up gold. Soho ! " he exclaimed, as Soulas started, " do I 
 touch you there ? and I well believe it," he continued, " and 
 that you come by it in no honest way. I care not though 
 you be a miser, but other things are whispered of you, sir- 
 rah, and if they prove true, you shall swing from the win- 
 dows of your own town-hall ; therefore mark well what you 
 are about and beware ! " 
 
IS4 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 The knees of the mayor knocked against each other, 
 and his mind was busy in wondering whether his schemes 
 could have been betrayed as he stammered forth a few 
 words of denial, which the marquis listened to with an in- 
 credulous smile upon his lips. 
 
 " You may swear by all the saints," he said scornfully, 
 " and yet would not I believe you ; but again I bid you be- 
 ware if you love your life ! Get you to the gate now with 
 the keys, for I see the bishop is approaching." 
 
 Soulas hurried to the gate which he threw open, and 
 retiring among the crowd of citizens, he followed their ex- 
 ample and threw himself on his knees. The knights dis- 
 mounted and resigning their horses to their pages, waited 
 until the bishop came opposite to them, when they dropped 
 upon one knee, rising again after he had passed by. 
 The bishop was seated in a gorgeous litter covered with a 
 canopy of silk. He was dressed in the rich vestments 
 of his office, and was borne by the four noble vassals of 
 his see, according to the ancient and especial privilege 
 belonging to the prelates of Meux. The noble bearers 
 were clad in plain but beautiful armor, and wore a cross 
 upon their breasts. Their heads were bare, their helmets 
 being carried by the pages who followed them. As they 
 passed slowly on, the knights with the marquis de la 
 Rivifere at their head remounted their horses, and formed 
 in line behind the litter. The citizens followed on foot, 
 and the procession swept along to the cathedral where 
 the bishop was to celebrate high mass. That tedious 
 service over, the Prelate was escorted to his residence, 
 where he bestowed his blessing on the faithful multi- 
 tude, and the people who had testified their respect for 
 their spiritual lord, were at length free to disperse. The 
 mayor, half dead from fatigue and the excitement he had 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 1 55 
 
 undergone, was glad to find himself once more at the 
 door of his own dwelling, but as he was about to go in, a 
 hand was laid upon his robe. Turning quickly he con- 
 fronted a man who said : " Good Master Mayor, I must 
 have a few words with you." 
 
 "And who are you ? " grumbled Soulas, who would have 
 been thankful to escape, lock himself in and indulge his 
 ill humor. " Who are you who have followed me here ? " 
 
 " I followed you," replied the stranger, " because it was 
 the easiest way to find your house." 
 
 " Well, well, would not to-morrow serve your turn ? I 
 am tired ; I have had a busy day. First there was the 
 reading of our charter and the civic procession, then the 
 entry of our Lord Bishop and high mass to be attended, 
 and I must be present at all and much besides. I am 
 weary I say ! Come again to-morrow." 
 
 But the stranger persisted, " I am sure, master," he 
 said, " that when you look at this, you will listen to me," 
 and he drew forth a small parchment with a few words 
 scrawled upon it ; beneath was the signature of Etienne 
 Marcel. Soulas looked at it. " You may come in," said 
 he, and he led the way to the room he had quitted so 
 abruptly some hours before. " What is your name ? " he 
 demanded, looking suspiciously at his unwelcome visitor. 
 
 " Pierre Gilles, master." 
 
 " And you say that the Provost sent you hither ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Pierre, for he it was, " and I must re- 
 turn to-night." 
 
 " What message did the worshipful Provost send to 
 me?" 
 
 " He bade me tell you that some of the stout citizens 
 of Paris would march this way before long, and he looks 
 to have you find them good entertainment." 
 
IS6 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 Soulas rubbed his hands together and laughed as he. 
 answered : " It may be there will be no lack of enter- 
 tainment ; but how many guests will there be, and when 
 am I to expect them ? " 
 
 " That is for you to say, master, and our Provost asks 
 you to fix the time ; but he says it must be soon or not 
 at all." 
 
 " Ha, ha ! is it so ? The worshipful Provost is in haste 
 then ? " 
 
 " I know naught of that," rejoined ' Pierre, " only he 
 bade me say that you must decide all to-night, and send 
 him word, or he would draw back." 
 
 Soulas thought a moment. He knew how eager the 
 peasants were to attack the city, his bargain was made 
 with them and no good could come of longer delay, which 
 might deprive him of the assistance Marcel had prom- 
 ised to give. The biting words of the marquis de la 
 Rivifere, and his threats alarmed him. He was already 
 suspected and he knew that the marquis would hardly 
 wait to have his suspicion become a certainty, before 
 consigning him to the hangman. And then, the reward 
 promised by Callet ! 
 
 He passed his hand across his brow, for a sudden diz- 
 ziness came over him, as he thought how soon he might 
 clutch this gold. But how to make certain of securing it, 
 after the peasants were once in possession of the town ? 
 This was what he could not clearly see, for he had only 
 the word of Callet and of Jacques, and how did he know 
 whether they would keep their promise. The doubt 
 caused him a throb of pain. Suddenly an idea occurred 
 to him, a means of securing the treasure he was so fear- 
 ful of losing, and he turned to Pierre. " Friend," he 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 157 
 
 said, " do you know who is to lead the citizens from 
 Paris?" 
 
 " That I do, master, for our Provost says I shall lead 
 them myself." 
 
 " Good, you are young, but I doubt not you are a brave 
 youth," said Soulas. " Hast ever seen this Callet or his 
 friend, him he calls Jacques? " 
 
 " Not I." 
 
 " Well, think you they will share with you and your 
 fellows ? " asked Soulas. 
 
 " They must, master, or we will make them — let them 
 refuse if they dare. I warrant we will give them a 
 lesson that will teach them to remember the butchers of 
 Paris ! " 
 
 " Listen to me," said Soulas. " These peasants are an 
 army, and you will be but few ; if they refuse to let you 
 share with them you cannot help yourselves. I can show 
 you how to make sure of what you seize in spite of them, 
 but you must deceive them or they will cheat you." 
 
 " We will make them feel our axes then. We will not 
 be cheated I tell you," growled Pierre. 
 
 " They are fierce and hard to control," continued the 
 mayor, "and their leaders are so ignorant that one can 
 hardly make them understand the most simple things ; 
 they do not even know the value of money; think of that, 
 good youth, think of not knowing how much a thousand 
 crowns would be 1 " 
 
 " Are they fools, these peasants, not to know the worth 
 of money? What do they seek then, and why do they 
 want to take Meux," asked Pierre. 
 
 " They want plunder, they want everything they can lay 
 their hands on, but they want blood first of all. Mark me," 
 and Soulas laid his hand on his companion's knee as he 
 
158 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 spoke, " they want revenge and blood first, and gold 
 afterward. Do you understand ? " 
 
 " No," said Pierre, " may the devil fly away with me, 
 if I know what you mean ! " 
 
 " Have patience and I will show you, but first tell me 
 why you mean to lead your brave citizens here. Is it not 
 because if the nobles are to be plundered, you want to 
 have a share of their gold and jewels as well as the 
 peasants ? " 
 
 " Yes, master, it is true ; why should the peasants have 
 all ? " 
 
 " And," continued Soulas, " would you not be willing 
 to let them kill, so you might plunder ? " 
 
 Pierre began to be interested. "You are right," 
 he said. " What we want is gold, and if we cannot earn 
 it in these hard times, we must e'en take it by force." 
 
 " Ha, ha, good youth ! " cried Soulas, patting him 
 on the knee, "you are apt enough! Take it, yes, yes, 
 and so you shall if you will be guided by me, for I know 
 where there are heaps of gold. Oh, yes, I can lead you, 
 but you must be guided by me, or you will get nothing," 
 and he shook his head sadly. 
 
 " I am willing enough to follow you," rejoined Pierre, 
 " but as to getting nothing when I am once here with my 
 bold comrades, leave that to me, master! " 
 
 Soulas looked at him. "You forget" said he, "that 
 there is a battle to be fought, and a bloody one, too, be- 
 fore the city can be plundered." 
 
 " But the peasants have fought before, why should they 
 not succeed here where the nobles will be taken by sur- 
 prise t " asked Pierre. 
 
 " If they can take the marquis de la Rivibre at un- 
 awares they may succeed ; that is their only chance," 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 159 
 
 answered Soulas slowly. " But, Master Gilles, be guided 
 by me, and let the peasants fight the battle." 
 
 " We be no cowards 1 " exclaimed Pierre indignantly. 
 
 " I know it, but why should you fight when others will 
 do it for you, and you can get the gold without ? Now 
 look you," said the mayor. "Lead your men hither 
 on the morning of the pte of St. Celine, an hour 
 before day ; I will admit you at the old gate. You 
 will conceal yourselves, and afterward I will let in 
 the peasant army. They will attack the town, and take 
 the nobles by surprise if possible. If they succeed they 
 will kill, kill until they are weary, and meantime you and 
 your fellows may plunder at your ease. Aha ! how do 
 you like my plan ? " 
 
 " I like it," answered Pierre, " by St. Jacques, it is 
 good ! " 
 
 " Is it not ? " cried Soulas. " And when you have se- 
 cured the gold which I will show you where to find, then 
 you and I will share and share alike ; is it not so, good 
 youth ? " 
 
 "Yes, yes, master, with all my heart ! " 
 
 " You would not grudge me the half of what we win to- 
 gether, nor let me be robbed of it, after I have shown you 
 how to come at more treasure than you ever dreamed 
 of ? " and the mayor's little green eyes searched the face 
 of his companion as he spoke. " No, oh no ! indeed, you 
 would not suffer me to be robbed, for you are a just youth, 
 and will remember that Antoine Soulas showed you the 
 road to wealth. You are young, Master Gilles, and know 
 not yet the power of gold. 'Tis the best friend one can 
 have, better than sweetheart or wife ; but you will not be- 
 lieve that, ha ha ! for at your age one has sweethearts, and 
 takes more pleasure in their bright eyes than in the glitter 
 
l6o BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 of golden crowns. But the golden crowns will purchase 
 hearts. O yes, and if you bring your honest comrades 
 here as I say, we will soon find what will make your love 
 smile on you ! Say then, will you be ruled by me ? " 
 
 While speaking Soulas's avaricious spirit could be seen 
 in his shining eyes, and in the nervous movements of his 
 hands which opened and shut and clasped each other con- 
 vulsively as he talked. Pierre watched him silently. He 
 was intelligent enough to see that the man was a miser, 
 and would barter his soul for gain, but he entered heartily 
 into his plans and was cunning enough to hide his own 
 thoughts. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 It was no longer possible for the vicomte d'Ervand 
 to persuade himself that he was ill. His shoulder was 
 perfectly healed and his arm as strong as ever, yet he 
 lingered at the house of the wine-merchant. If Pierre 
 Gilles, who had not by any means forgotten Jeanne Mail- 
 -lart, could have known how often and how tenderly the 
 vicomte thought of her, his mind would have been ill at 
 ease. As he returned from Meux he was busy in devis- 
 ing some way by which he might gain possession of her 
 person if not of her heart, and he hoped to obtain enough 
 gold from the plunder of the town, to make him a more 
 acceptable suitor or to enable him to gain his end by more 
 violent means. 
 
 But fortunately for him, he could not see the vicomte 
 bending over Jeanne, pretending to examine very care- 
 fully the present that count Guy had sent her, while in 
 truth, he was looking much more attentively at the white 
 hand that held it, and the red lips that smiled so provok- 
 ingly near. His good resolutions had taken flight, and he 
 did not seek to recall them but allowed himself to enjoy 
 the pleasure he found in the company of this young girl, 
 whose gayety charmed him and whom he felt to be worthy 
 of his respect. It is true that the recollection of how 
 widely he was separated from one of her humble station 
 obtruded itself upon his mind occasionally, but he 
 banished the disagreeable thought as quickly as possible, 
 or opposed it by drawing comparisons between some noble 
 
 i6i 
 
 IX 
 
l62 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 ladies of his acquaintance, and Jeanne. Doubtless these 
 were not always favorable to the former, and the vicomte 
 must have known that he was doing wrong to indulge him- 
 self in such an amusement. However this may be, the in- 
 spection of the pin continued so long that Jeanne grew im- 
 patient. " I am tired of holding out my arm so long,'' 
 she declared. " Why do you not say something, my lord .' 
 Is it not beautiful ? " 
 
 " Very beautiful indeed, and so white ! " 
 
 " Why 'tis not white, 'tis gold color, and see what pretty 
 work upon it," she said, holding the pin up to the light. 
 
 " Ah ! " replied the vicomte, looking at it for the first 
 time ; " yes, it is quite pretty." 
 
 " But a moment ago you said it was beautiful, and now 
 you say it is only pretty," she exclaimed, with a pout of 
 her red lips that d'Ervand thought extremely becoming. 
 
 He smiled as he replied : " But I meant your arm, 
 Mistress Jeanne." 
 
 " Oh ! Why, my lord, I was speaking to you about the 
 pin that the count de la Roche sent to me." 
 
 " And I was not looking at it but at something far 
 more lovely ; " returned the vicomte smiling, and raising 
 her fingers to his lips. 
 
 Jeanne blushed and drew her hand away, "You 
 should not make sport of me, my lord," she said hesi- 
 tatingly, " after I was so patient too, holding the pin 
 for you to look at so long that my arm aches ; and all 
 the time you were — " 
 
 "Looking at something else," he said laughing. 
 
 " Yes, but if you do not care fur this golden pin, I shall 
 not let you see it any longer," and she thrust it into the 
 scarf about her neck. 
 
 " My faith," rejoined the vicomte, " if you wish to hide 
 it from me, you have chosen a charming place of conceal- 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 1 63 
 
 raent, for it shows there like a gleam of gold against a 
 drift of snow ! But you must not think I mean to make 
 sportof you, fair Jeanne. By St. Genevifeve ! that would be 
 very ungrateful after all your kindness ! Believe me I only 
 spoke what I thought ; and I say you have the loveliest 
 hand and arm in Paris, and the kindest heart, and the 
 prettiest mouth, and the most graceful — " 
 
 It is impossible to say where he would have stopped, 
 but Jeanne interrupted him, her face suffused with blushes ; 
 "Oh, my lord, indeed, indeed you must not talk so. It 
 is not true, and you — I — " and she covered her face with 
 her hands to hide her confusion. She was not altogether 
 unused to compliments, but the impulsive manner of her 
 companion embarrassed her for a moment. However, she 
 soon recovered her composure, and the vicomte's smiling 
 face completely reassured her, as soon as she gained cour- 
 age enough to look up. She glanced timidly at him, and 
 there was a half reproachful look in her eyes as they met 
 his. 
 
 " Why do you look at me so, fair Jeanne ? " he asked 
 gently, " have I said anything to offend you ? " 
 
 " No, my lord, how should you say aught to offend a 
 simple maiden. Only you should not — It is not right for 
 you — " 
 
 " What is not right, my pretty Jeanne ? " 
 
 " Oh," she answered, smiling again, " it is wrong for you 
 to seek to make me vain. But would )'ou believe it, my 
 father says I am even now more vain than — Oh, than my 
 bird Ren^, who sits for hours smoothing his feathers, and 
 tossing his head from side to side to see his plumage glis- 
 ten in the sun." 
 
 " Truly I believe he says so, since you tell me ; but 
 then it is his way of jesting." 
 
164 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 " Do you think so ? " she asked demurely. 
 
 " Yes, fair Jeanne." 
 
 " But perhaps it is really true, and I am certain — " 
 
 " What are you so certain of, Jeanne ? " 
 
 " That I will be as vain — as vain as anything, if I stay 
 longer here, and it will be your fault, my lord, so I shall 
 run away," and before he could prevent her, she had 
 sprung across the room and disappeared. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 While the vicomte recovered from the baron's sword 
 thrust, under the magic influence of his pretty nurse, 
 count Guy had not altogether neglected the oppor- 
 tunity afforded him by the Sire de Coucy. And in truth, 
 his visits to Yolande were quite as frequent as would, in 
 all probability, have seemed necessary to her father. 
 The admiration which he felt for her soon became a 
 warmer feeling, and deepened into love so rapidly, 
 that before he was well aware of his danger, Guy found 
 himself borne helplessly along upon a tide that he could 
 not, or would not, at least, did not, resist. 
 
 Nor can it be denied that Yolande thought of him more 
 often than she would willingly have confessed. As she 
 sat alone one afternoon, vaguely wondering whether Guy 
 had forgotten that she was alone, and chiding herself for 
 the thought that came unbidden, she heard his step ; and 
 starting from her reverie, rose hurriedly to receive him. 
 There was a smile of welcome on her lips, and as Guy 
 bent to kiss her hand, she exclaimed, " Now Saint Mary 
 be praised for sending you hither, for even Bertrand has 
 deserted me, and shut himself up alone to complete your 
 horoscope ! I begged him to show it me," she added 
 laughing, " but he made so many excuses, that I soon 
 gave up all hope of satisfying my curiosity.'' 
 
 " I hope it will be favorable," said Guy. 
 
 " You may be sure it will, if Bertrand can coax the stars 
 to gratify his wishes ; for you are becoming a great favor- 
 
 i6s 
 
l66 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 ite of his, Count. But you had best beware or you will 
 have me for an enemy, and I warn you that I shall be a 
 dangerous rival." 
 
 " I well believe it, and shall not dare to enter the lists 
 with you and run a course for Bertrand's love." 
 
 " Saint Mary for Coucy ! " cried Yolande, gayly, " I 
 should overthrow you without mercy ! " 
 
 " If you were to ride unarmed, you would vanquish the 
 bravest knight who ever laid spear in rest," returned Guy, 
 smiling. 
 
 " But I should wear steel from head to foot, my dear 
 Count. Oh, you need not laugh, for I know how to couch 
 a lance, and I should aim it, let me see, at your helmet I 
 think, and then — Bonne grace notre dame 1 " 
 
 " Aim at my breast and I own myself conquered ; but 
 in truth dear lady Yolande, your beautiful eyes will count 
 more victims than your lance, and so you ride unhelmeted 
 one had need weJr armor of proof to defend his heart 1 " 
 
 " You must leave yours unguarded then ; you are very 
 rash, Count Guy, to expose yourself to such danger," and 
 Yolande turned her laughing eyes full upon him. 
 
 " Some dangers are so pleasant that we seek instead of 
 avoiding them," he replied. 
 
 But Yolande, who possibly did not understand his 
 meaning, abruptly changed the conversation. " Is it 
 not a shame," she cried, " that I must stay here so 
 long alone ? It is so dull, I declare, my dear Count, that 
 I sometimes wish for a tumult in the streets, or a flood — 
 for anything to amuse me. If the students would but 
 dress themselves in outlandish garb, and march through 
 the streets as they did last year, or the cathedral take fire, 
 or the Provost's new wall tumble down — if something 
 would but happen to cause a little excitement ! " 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. l6f 
 
 " I confess it is hard," answered Guy, " and I do not 
 wonder that you grow restless. But I heard you singing 
 as I came in ; does that not amuse you ? " 
 
 "One cannot sing all day," replied Yolande, "and 
 there is nothing else for me to do, except to bend over 
 this embroidery or listen to Bertrand." 
 
 " Do you not like to hear him read then ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, but I am not always in the mood ; and then, 
 he scorns all minstrel's tales, and says 'tis a waste of time 
 to listen to them. But now that he is not here," con- 
 tinued Yolande, " I wish you would repeat some story. I 
 know you can if you will, my dear Count. Come, do not 
 refuse me." 
 
 " How do you know I can recall a story you would care 
 to hear ? " asked Guy with a smile, and seating himself at 
 her feet, he looked up at the lovely face of the young girl, 
 thinking that no jongleur ever had a fairer subject for his 
 song, and devoutly wishing that he possessed the min- 
 strel's gift. 
 
 " You shall not escape me by asking questions," said 
 she, glancing merrily at her companion, " so begin at once 
 — ^for if you do not, Bertrand will come, and then you know 
 he will want to show you your horoscope, and I shall lose 
 my story ! " 
 
 " But what shall it be about," asked Guy, who was 
 somewhat embarrassed by this sudden demand, and 
 feared his invention would hardly prove equal to the 
 emergency. 
 
 " Oh ! anything. Count, tell me a legend of your house." 
 
 " Shall I tell you of the conversion of Ogier ? but I 
 fear you will find it dull, and wish I had not come to in- 
 terrupt your song." 
 
l68 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 " Tell it me at once," said Yolande. " Saint Mary ! it 
 cannot be more tedious than this embroidery ! " 
 
 Guy laughed, and was about to relate the legend of 
 Ogier, when he was interrupted by the entrance of Anton, 
 who brought an urgent message from the vicomte d'Er- 
 vand begging the count to join him at the Cerf Blanc as 
 he had received tidings of importance. Guy arose reluc- 
 tantly enough from the half-reclining position he had 
 taken at Yolande's feet. 
 
 " You must listen to my tale at another time," he said, 
 " I fear that I must leave you, dear Yolande." 
 
 " But then I shall lose my story. Count Guy, Come, it 
 cannot be necessary for you to go so soon, and we have not 
 yet arranged about my journey to Coucy. When are we 
 to set out and how and where } Truly 'tis unkind for you 
 to desert me thus, the moment that I begin to forget how 
 I am mewed up in this gloomy place. Do you not know. 
 Count Guy (and she spoke with a pretty petulance), that 
 'tis your duty to make me forget this tiresome tapestry 
 work, these dull days, and that wicked baron de Roye ? " 
 
 " I wish to Heaven," returned Guy, " that I might guard 
 you from every disagreeable and evil thing. I would that 
 I could guide the sun and influence the stars, the winds, 
 the clouds — " he stopped abruptly. 
 
 " And what then, my dear Count ? " 
 
 " Ah ! then," said he, impetuously, " the sun should ever 
 shine on you, the winds breathe softly, and the stars look 
 graciously upon you, and see themselves reflected in your 
 eyes ! All happiness, all pleasant things should be for 
 you to choose from, though by my faith ! nature has been 
 bounteous to you, dear Yolande, and bestowed on you the 
 richest jewels in her casket," and Guy bent over her 
 white hand, pressing his lips upon it. A faint blush stole 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 169 
 
 over face and throat and neck as Yolande listened, but 
 before she could reply, Bertrand came forward, holding 
 out a parchment. 
 
 "Here is your horoscope, my lord," he said. "lam 
 glad to say that it is favorable," and a benignant smile 
 overspread his face as he spoke. There was a moment's 
 pause. 
 
 " Did I not say it would be favorable, my dear Count ? ' 
 asked Yolande, recovering her composure. "How did 
 you persuade the stars to be auspicious, Bertrand ? Come, 
 confess," she added, laughing, " confess now, that you 
 wheedled them ! " 
 
 But Bertrand darted an indignant look at her, and 
 deigned no reply, while the count, taking the horoscope, 
 thrust it in his breast, muttering some words of thanks as 
 he did so. He then requested Bertrand to make all need- 
 ful preparation for a sudden departure, as it might be 
 best for them to leave Paris at once, and promising to see 
 them speedily, made his adieux without further delay. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The disorderly band led by Pierre Gilles had left the 
 city, and the count de la Roche quitted the hostelry soon 
 after daybreak to hasten the preparations of master Ber- 
 trand. But he found, much to his satisfaction, that the 
 latter was already equipped; two well-armed servants 
 were in waiting, and four horses stood caparisoned for the 
 road. Lady Yolande quickly made her appearance and 
 Guy dismounted to lift her into her saddle. She wore a 
 violet riding dress which was embroidered with silver, and 
 so fashioned as to admirably serve the purpose for 
 which it was intended, that of enabling her to sit her 
 horse with perfect freedom. It is true that it also dis- 
 played to some advantage the proportions of a very 
 lovely figure. Over this dress was thrown a short cloak 
 of velvet lined with rose-colored satin : her dark blue 
 hood, also worked with silver, did not entirely conceal 
 the bright brown hair it covered, and a gold embroidered 
 belt in which was thrust a dagger, completed her costume. 
 It is certain that count Guy thought her the most 
 charming page in the world, as placing himself at her 
 side, but slightly in advance, he directed his little troop 
 through the streets and beyond the barriers. He antici- 
 pated some difficulty in leaving the city, and was relieved 
 to find that he was not questioned or detained at the 
 gate, nor was he sorry to be joined outside the walls by 
 the men-at-arms whom he had ordered to meet him there. 
 About twenty in number, these were drawn up in good 
 
 170 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 17 1 
 
 order, and the morning sun flashed from the polished 
 surface of their armor and weapons, as the count and 
 his little party reined in their horses opposite them. 
 Their leader, Rigaud, advanced and saluted Guy, who 
 signed to Lanard, and after a hasty conference, di- 
 rected the troop to be formed in such a manner as to 
 allow them to make as much speed as possible, while at 
 the same time, they provided against being surprised. 
 The lady Yolande, the old physician and the two servants 
 were placed in the centre. Rigaud was directed to 
 remain in the rear and take general charge of the party, 
 while Guy placed himself in front with Lanard who was 
 thoroughly familiar with the roads. In this fashion they 
 set forward, and Guy was in excellent spirits at finding 
 himself once more on horseback and in the open country. 
 There was little danger to be apprehended in so short a 
 journey, though the roads were scoured by stragglers from 
 the free companies ; ruffians lawless enough to seize what- 
 ever or whoever fell in their way. They were, however, 
 usually in search of booty, and Guy thought it unlikely 
 that they would attack so strong a party, since, in doing 
 so, they would certainly obtain more hard blows than 
 plunder. Still he was anxious to avoid a collision with 
 these marauders, and as they rode onward he did not 
 relax the vigilance with which he scanned the roads, 
 though he occasionally resigned this duty to the practised 
 eye of Lanard, and rode by the side of Yolande, who, 
 exhilarated by her release from the confinement she had 
 found so hard to bear, and flushed with the excitement of 
 her favorite exercise, could scarcely" restrain her delight. 
 The grace and ease with which she managed her spirited 
 horse, her sparkling eyes, and ringing laughter as some- 
 thing strange or ludicrous attracted her attention, charmed 
 
172 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 the young count, and he would gladly have remained at 
 the bridle rein of his fair companion, though he was forced 
 to content himself with brief visits to the spot where he 
 would willingly have lingered. His watchfulness and 
 tender regard for her comfort were not unnoticed how- 
 ever, and not unrewarded, if smiles and glances have the 
 value sometimes attributed to them. 
 
 On the afternoon of the second day they were ap- 
 proaching the end of their journey, when Guy, feeling 
 that there was no longer any necessity for such excessive 
 caution, yielded to the entreaties of Yolande who begged 
 to be allowed to ride forward with him to a rising ground, 
 from which she could point out the towers of the chateau 
 then not more than two leagues distant. 
 
 They soon left their party behind, and were following 
 a path that ran beside a little stream called the Ailette, 
 when their attention was attracted- by a heron that rose 
 suddenly from the sedgy bank before them. They fol- 
 lowed his flight with eager eyes, and increased their 
 speed to keep as long as possible within view of the game 
 they had so often pursued with hawk on wrist. Finally 
 they lost sight of it, as the heron with a slow, circling mo- 
 tion plunged into a distant marsh and disappeared, and 
 they reined in their horses to find themselves far in ad- 
 vance of their escort, and some distance beyond the hill 
 they wished to ascend, and which they had left to their 
 right. Turning, they began to retrace their steps, moving at 
 a slow pace in order to breathe the horses. Yolande's cheek 
 was flushed with pleasure, and she replied merrily to the 
 count as he praised her bold and skilful riding, adding 
 that he hoped they would enjoy many such gallops when 
 provided with falcons and dogs to bring down their 
 game. 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 1 73 
 
 " I hope we shall indeed," she said ; " but while these 
 weary wars continue, and one is afraid to venture beyond 
 sight of the castle, there is little opportunity for falconry 
 or any other sport. Heigh-ho ! I wish my father were at 
 home, for I fear you will think the entertainment I can 
 afford you but very tiresome," and she glanced at Guy, 
 sighing a little as she thought that his companionship 
 had been very pleasant, and remembered that it was im- 
 possible for him to remain at Coucy. 
 
 " Now by our Lady," cried he, " I ask no greater favor 
 of Heaven than to be near you, dear Yolande, to live for 
 a kind glance from those beautiful eyes, and to die in 
 your defence ! " 
 
 "Ah! but you will soon forget, after you return to 
 Paris, and in the wars you will have no time to remember," 
 and she smiled a little sadly. 
 
 " Will I not ? and do you think I can forget ? Now, by 
 heaven, you do me wrong, Yolande 1 But give me some 
 favor then that I may wear, and return in proof of my de- 
 votion." 
 
 " Will you wear this ? " she asked, smiling, and detach- 
 ing a silken scarf from her throat. But as she was 
 about to give it to him, they were startled by three 
 horsemen who had been concealed in a thicket, 
 perhaps a hundred paces in front of them, and 
 who now rode forward with threatening gestures. 
 Yolande thrust the scarf into her bosom, while Guy, 
 hastily begging her to remain quiet and fear nothing, 
 placed himself before her. Fortunately, he had not 
 abandoned his lance when he left his tyoop; and was 
 completely armed ; he felt no fear but yet he reproached 
 himself for his imprudence in placing Yolande in 
 danger. A swift glance showed him that he could expect 
 
174 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 no aid, and that the assailants probably belonged to some 
 roving band of free companions, who would have no re- 
 spect for the rank or beauty of the young girl whom he 
 had vowed to guard with his life. 
 
 "Now, Heaven be my speed," he thought, "here is a 
 fair opportunity for a gallant devoir ; would they but at- 
 tack me one by one, but that they will never do. Ha ! 
 'tis as I thought," he muttered, as the horsemen advanced 
 as if to attack him at the same time. But if this was their 
 intention they suddenly changed their minds, for two of 
 them drew to the side of the road and passed the count, 
 leaving their companion to oppose him. He spurred 
 forward against this antagonist, who was unhorsed by the 
 shock, and wheeling instantly, Guy saw the men who had 
 passed him, seize each a rein of Yolande's horse and ride 
 away. Plunging his spurs into the sides of the animal he 
 rode he dashed off in pursuit, and as his horse was one of 
 great power and speed, he gained rapidly upon the fugitives. 
 Yolande remained perfectly calm, only turning her head 
 now and then to glance back at Guy, who came nearer 
 every moment. Seeing that escape was impossible the 
 ruffians halted, and one of them placed himself in a posture 
 of defence and sought to oppose the count, who bore 
 down upon him with his still unbroken lance in rest. 
 But the strength and skill with which Guy was endowed 
 in no ordinary degree, and the force of his career, were not 
 to be resisted ; the fellow was borne from his saddle pierced 
 through as though struck by a thunderbolt. Yolande was 
 now struggling with the remaining brigand who had dis- 
 mounted and endeavored to pull her from her horse. She 
 made a brave resistance, and drawing her dagger struck 
 her assailant such a blow in the arm as forced him to re- 
 lease her. At this instant Guy sprang to her side, sword 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 175 
 
 ill hand, and would have struck the fellow to the ground, 
 but he, falling on his knees, pleaded so piteously for his 
 life, that the count had not the heart to put him to death, 
 and depriving him of his weapon, which he broke with a 
 stamp of his armed heel, he bade him begone. This he 
 was not slow to do, and springing on his horse which was 
 grazing by the road-side, he rode off at the top of his 
 speed. Turning eagerly to Yolande, Guy asked whether 
 she was hurt. 
 
 " No, my dear Count,'' she replied, giving him a look 
 full of gratitude, not unmingled with admiration ; " no, 
 but how shall I thank you ? " 
 
 " Do not thank me, Yolande. I have not deserved it." 
 
 " Oh ! but you have ! " she exclaimed, and drawing the 
 scarf from her breast, " you must wear my favor ; I will 
 bind it on your helmet with my own hands, but not here," 
 she added smiling, as she replaced it. " St. Mary ! how 
 strong and brave you are. Count Guy ! If I had known 
 before, I need not have trembled for you." 
 
 " And did you then ? " asked Guy. 
 
 "Yes," she said, hesitatingly, "but another time I shall 
 know better." 
 
 "I know," returned Guy, "that I trembled for you 
 when I saw you hurried away. Can you forgive me, dear 
 Yolande, for so thoughtlessly bringing you into danger ? " 
 
 " Why, it is I who should ask forgiveness, for if I had 
 not teased you to ride forward, we would not have been 
 in any danger.'' 
 
 " But we should have missed our pleasant gallop after 
 the heron," said Guy, smiling. 
 
 " And I should not have known how bravely my favor 
 would be worn ! " 
 
176 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 " And I should have lost an opportunit)' of laying lance 
 in rest for the fairest lady in France." 
 
 Yolande blushed as she answered : " Perhaps we are 
 both glad that we did an unwise thing. But, Count Guy, 
 if we linger here, your men will be searching for us, and 
 Bertrand will be wild with anxiety : then what if the fellow 
 whom you allowed to escape, should come back with more 
 companions? " 
 
 " Yes/' returned Guy, " 'tis imprudent , let us hasten," 
 and pressing their horses, they rode rapidly forward. 
 Guy did not forget to express his admiration of the cour- 
 age shown by his companion, and this led him to ask 
 whether she had lost her dagger. She replied by touch- 
 ing its hilt, and he inquired how she had learned to use 
 such a weapon, smiling as he asked whether she was well 
 accustomed to it. " For," said he, " though the Italian 
 ladies are well acquainted with the use of the poniard, 
 it is an accomplishment not so familiar to our dames of 
 France. I hope, my dear Yolande, that you have not of- 
 ten found it needful to resort to it. But, my faith, you 
 struck with as true an aim, and as firm a hand, as I could 
 have done myself ! Truly, I am glad that the brigand re- 
 ceived some slight punishment, though it is shame for me 
 that you were obliged to defend yourself ! " 
 
 " No, no," cried Yolande, " I were no true de Coucy, if 
 I could not strike a blow in my own defence ; and, surely, 
 you have no need to blame yourself, for how could you be 
 in three places at the same time, unless you are a magi- 
 cian, Count Guy ? But my father taught me how to hold 
 and strike with the dagger, arid I have often practised it, 
 though not before on men," she added, laughing. 
 
 They were now ascending the hill, and reaching its sum- 
 mit, turned to look at the stream, whose banks they had 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 1 77 
 
 just followed in rash pursuit of the heron, gleaming in the 
 sunlight like a waving line of silver, as it wound its way 
 through the rich meadow-land, and fell into the river Oise. 
 Glancing in the opposite direction, they perceived a 
 gently undulating country, covered for the most part by a 
 heavy growth of forest, though here and there were culti- 
 vated fields in which the ripening grain waved heavily in the 
 wind. At the foot of the hill ran the road along which the 
 men-at-arms were advancing, and they evidently saw the 
 count and his companion, for when they reached a point 
 immediately beneath, they halted, as if waiting for them. 
 Across the fields and rising above the surrounding forest, 
 could be seen the great tower of the chateau which Yo- 
 lande eagerly pointed out to Guy. 
 
 " So, yonder is our journey's end," said he. " I would 
 it were not so near.'' 
 
 "But," replied Yolande, "I shall not allow you to return 
 to Paris, Count, until you have proved the hospitality of 
 Coucy. No, you must not think of leaving me until I 
 have guided you through our castle, and you have seen 
 the curious sculptures, and the carving and the pictures." 
 " I wish it might be, Yolande,— another time perhaps ; 
 now, I must not stay longer than to rest our horses. But 
 why do you ever call me Count; 'tis far too distant, and 
 you know my name : why do you never use it, dear Yo- 
 lande .? " 
 
 " But I do, my dear Count Guy de la Roche," and she 
 smiled as she added : "You see I know it very well in- 
 deed. What, is that not right ? Well, Guy, then— Ah ! 
 does that please you better ? " 
 
 " A thousand times ! but will you think of me as Guy, 
 or dare I hope that you will ever think of me ? " 
 
178 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 " Yes, how should I not. The de Coucys do not for- 
 get : they are dear friends or bitter foes." 
 
 " Count me"," exclaimed Guy, " count me among the 
 first, yet not a dear friend, but the dearest 1 " 
 
 Yolande turned, and there was a soft light in the violet 
 eyes, a truant color in her face — favorable omens which 
 the young count marked with a rising hope. But he was 
 not destined to receive the reply he looked so eagerly to 
 hear ; for, after gazing at her companion as though she 
 would read his inmost thoughts, the wilful girl suddenly 
 gave her horse the rein, and with a low laugh started down 
 the hill, followed by Guy whose surprise was mingled with 
 some fear lest he had offended her. However, there was 
 something not altogether discouraging in the laughing 
 glance thrown to him over the shoulder of the flying girl, 
 and he resolved to await a time and place when his capri- 
 cious beauty would not be able to make her escape so easily. 
 They joined the waiting party, much to the relief of Ber- 
 trand who was alarmed at their long absence. Lanard ob- 
 served that his master had returned without his lance, and 
 suspected what had occurred, but asked no questions as 
 the count resumed his place, and, giving the signal to ad- 
 vance, led the way rapidly toward the chateau. 
 
 The castle of Coucy was situated upon a hill, and pre- 
 sented an imposing sight from the town that nestled be- 
 neath, and rested safely within the shadow of those mas- 
 sive towers. In the centre rose the enormous donjon, a 
 cylinder of stone, whose walls, twenty-five feet in thick- 
 ness at the base, seemed able to resist all the assaults 
 that time or man could make upon them. The donjon 
 was flanked by four similar though smaller towers pro- 
 vided with heavy battlements. On one side the castle 
 was protected by the sheer descent of the hill, which was 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 179 
 
 in that place a precipice of smooth and solid rock. The 
 other sides were guarded by a deep fosse. 
 
 As Yolande rode over the drawbridge she glanced 
 proudly up at the fortress, the home of her race : the 
 blood of the de Coucys stirred within her, she was ani- 
 mated by the remembrance of the noble deeds of a long 
 line of warlike ancestors, and as she called the count's 
 attention to the figures of the two sires of Coucy that sur- 
 mounted the gate of entry, her bearing was that of a true 
 daughter of her house. The entire household was assem- 
 bled in the hall, and great was the rejoicing at the re- 
 turn of their lady, whose proud spirit was tempered by 
 such sweetness of disposition as to make her beloved by 
 all. 
 
 Yolande directed the seneschal to show count Guy to 
 an apartment in the western tower, and bade the latter 
 make haste and join her at supper. " I will wager," she 
 cried, laughingly, " that you will not do£E your armor so 
 quickly as I shall this riding habit of mine. So beware, 
 my lord (Guy," she added in a lower tone, and with a mis- 
 chievous glance at him) "that you do not keep me wait- 
 ing!" 
 
 The supper passed off merrily, for Yolande was de- 
 lighted to be at home again, and the count was charmed 
 by the novel situation in which he found himself. He 
 was still more pleased when his companion gayly pro- 
 posed that they should make a tour of the castle, which 
 he had some curiosity to explore. Preceded by several 
 servants bearing lights and accompanied by Bertrand, 
 they first made a circuit of the great hall. This immense 
 room in which a regiment would have had space to ma- 
 noeuvre, was lighted by a number of windows in the 
 vaulted roof, and heated by four huge fire-places. Two 
 
i8o 
 
 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 of these chimneys were covered with beautiful decorations 
 of flowers and fruits and trees wrought in stone. Be- 
 tween them the dais rose above the floor, and the recesses 
 formed by the projection of the chimneys were orna- 
 mented with statues, and with carvings of rustic scenes. 
 There might be seen the stag pursued by horse and 
 hound, the falcon stooping on his quarry, animals and 
 birds of various kinds : even the floor was covered with 
 the tracery of a vintage scene ; the vines loaded with fruit, 
 peasants gathering the clusters of grapes and treading out 
 the wine, all so clearly cut in the stone, as to need but the 
 addition of color to make them appear alive and real. 
 
 The apartments of the first stage or floor, were sup- 
 ported by a circle of lance-shaped arcades sculptured 
 with vines and trailing plants, and the succeeding floors 
 were borne up in the same manner. The grand staircase 
 began at the entrance of the hall, and winding about the 
 walls, ended in a covered gallery which encircled the top 
 of the donjon, and commanded a beautiful view of the sur- 
 rounding country, and of the valleys of the Ailette and 
 Oise. Far below were the towers placed at the angles 
 of the central building, and beneath them lay the houses 
 of the town. The battlements were amply provided with 
 engines for assault or defence, and were manned by a 
 strong force left by Yolande's father for the protection of 
 the chateau. All this which would have been so clearly 
 seen by daylight, was less distinct, though perhaps more 
 pleasing, viewed by the fainter light of the moon which 
 had just risen above the eastern horizon, as the count 
 and his fair guide emerged upon the upper gallery of the 
 tower. They lingered there a few moments, however, not 
 ill pleased to watch the shadows wavering in the uncer- 
 tain light, flinging themselves into a thousand fantastic 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. l8l 
 
 shapes that appeared and disappeared, as though sum- 
 moned and banished by the wand of an enchanter — to 
 observe the light that obliterated those phantoms, as the 
 moon shone suddenly forth from the cloud that obscured 
 it, and poured a silver flood over the earth : then 
 slowly retracing their steps, they found themselves 
 again in the great hall. Here Yolande declared that she 
 should abandon her guest to Bertrand, who first conducted 
 him to the room containing the figures of the mn&preux 
 chevaliers, sculptured in bas-relief. Guy expressed some 
 surprise that of these famous warriors," France could 
 boast of but two. Bertrand smiled as he answered that 
 it was not an unfair proportion, for, said he, " Our country 
 is but a little corner of the world where brave deeds have 
 been performed." He then pointed out a small cabinet, 
 within which was a secret stairway that led to a vault, 
 formerly used for concealing treasure, and from which 
 there was a subterranean passage leading underneath and 
 far beyond the walls. 
 
 They next descended a long flight of steps to the dun- 
 geons beneath the castle, but Guy was satisfied with a 
 very brief inspection of those gloomy vaults, which 
 seemed to his excited imagination to echo with the groans 
 of the wretched beings who had once inhabited them. 
 He proposed to return to the upper air, but Bertrand 
 -asked whether he would not first see the chamber in 
 which one of the sires of Coucy had died, and pausing 
 before a door covered thick with rust, he opened it and 
 disclosed a narrow cell, darker and more dismal than the 
 dreary corridor in which they stood. Guy drew nearer 
 and peered into this recess hewn in the solid rock, but 
 could distinguish nothing more than the vague outlines 
 of a vaulted room, from which came a breath of chill air 
 
102 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 that made him shiver. Taking a torch from one of the 
 attendants, he held it within the opening, and saw that a 
 little air and a feeble glimmer of light were admitted 
 through a narrow aperture made in the rock. In one cor- 
 ner was a short column of stone, set deep into the floor : 
 to this were attached an iron ring and the fragments of a 
 chain, both nearly consumed by rust. He had scarcely 
 time to obtain this brief glimpse, before the torch was ex- 
 tinguished by a puff of wind, and he was glad to follow 
 Bertrand, who was already mounting the stairway leading 
 to the chapel. 
 
 The ceiling of the chapel was covered with paintings, 
 and among them were two which Guy examined with 
 some interest, although the beauty of their execution 
 could be but imperfectly seen by the light of the torches. 
 One of these paintings represented the successful as- 
 sault made upon the temple by the soldiers of Titus, and 
 so vivid was the design that one could almost hear the 
 shrieks of those who sought frantically to escape the 
 sword of the legionaries. The other was the death of 
 Roland, who, sinking to the ground, exhausted by wounds 
 and deadly fatigue, still summoned up his failing strength, 
 and with his last breath sounded the echoing note that, 
 reaching the ear of the Emperor, warned him of the 
 fatal loss he had sustained in the valley of Roncesvalles. 
 The busts placed in niches about the walls, the recumbent 
 figures and the decorated altar were examined in turn, 
 and Guy stood at last before the marble efifigy of the first 
 of the Coucys. He gazed for some moments at this 
 stern figure mounted on his war horse, armed cap-a-pie, 
 and bearing on his shield the haughty motto he had 
 chosen as if in scornful defiance of the world. 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 183 
 
 " I am no king nor prince, 
 No duke, nor even count am I, 
 I am the Sire de Coucy ! " 
 
 Finally Bertrand pointed out the slabs that marked the 
 resting place of Raoul and Enguerrand de Coucy, and 
 said, "It was Raoul, the elder of these, who died in yon- 
 der cell, and if you care to hear how his brother wickedly 
 confined him there and contrived his death, I will relate 
 the history; but if it please you, my lord, to return, and 
 bid the Lady Yolande good night, I will go to my cham- 
 ber and await you there, where you may listen more at 
 your ease." 
 
 He then left the count, who returned to the great hall, 
 and was conducted by the seneschal to the dais where 
 Yolande was seated, watching the people amusing them- 
 selves in the hall below. Placing himself by her side, 
 Guy looked with much pleasure at the scene before him. 
 Little groups gathered about a mountebank, whose parti- 
 colored dress and ridiculous antics provoked shouts of 
 laughter from those who surrounded him. A juggler was 
 giving an exhibition of his sleight of hand ; a fortune teller 
 was revealing the future to those who would listen to him. 
 Some were engaged in tossing a light ball back and forth 
 by means of a long handled hoop, covered with an elastic 
 substance. Men-at-arms in buff coats were seated by 
 themselves casting dice, others were dancing with peasant 
 girls. The entire household had assembled to celebrate 
 the return of their lady, in the manner that pleased them 
 best. Presently, a party of young girls entered. Over 
 their gowns of black or blue stuff, they wore kirtles of 
 scarlet, yellow, or crimson, open sufficiently to afford a 
 glimpse of neck and bosom, and around their waists were 
 loosely knotted sashes, either orange or violet in color. 
 
184 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 Their hands were filled with flowers, and they approached 
 the dais slowly, singing a measured song, and keeping 
 time, as they advanced, with a waving movement that 
 resembled the undulations of a wave. As they reached 
 the upper end of the hall, each laid her tribute of flowers 
 at Yolande's feet, and still continuing the rhythmic move- 
 ment, passed on, and vanished at the foot of the grand 
 staircase. When they had disappeared, Yolande turned 
 with a smile to count Guy, and said, " Is not that a 
 pretty welcome ? " 
 
 "'Tis a fitting one at least," he answered, "for the 
 queen of flowers bows herself at your feet, and acknowl- 
 edges her fealty to the queen of beauty." Then, taking up 
 a wreath of roses, he placed it in her hands. 
 
 Yolande plucked two or three of the flowers absently, 
 and placed them in her belt. There was a moment's 
 pause, which neither seemed to wish to break, until rising 
 suddenly, Yolande exclaimed, " It grows late, my dear 
 Count. Must you really return to Paris to-morrow ? " 
 
 " I must set out before daybreak, for the marquis 
 would never forgive me if I should linger here." 
 
 Yolande glanced at him, as she rejoined, "And what if 
 I should not forgive you for deserting me so soon ; think 
 how lonesome I shall be, and perhaps — perhaps," she 
 said, a little sadly, " I shall never see you again." 
 
 " Would you miss me then, dear Yolande ? if I believed 
 that — if I could know that you would welcome me again, 
 what happiness ! Tell me, Yolande, that you will not for- 
 get — that you will think of me sometimes, and that I may 
 return ; give me a flower that shall remind me of Coucy, 
 and of you. No, not that," as she stooped to take one 
 from the heap at her feet, " one you have worn." 
 
 Yolande looked down at the roses she had thrust in her 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 185 
 
 belt, and blushed a little as she selected one and gave it 
 to him. 
 
 " I may not refuse," she said, " after all you have done 
 for me. Return it to me when next you come to Coucy, 
 and wear my favor boldly, Guy." 
 
 " I will defend it with my life, dear Yolande." 
 " But guard your life, for — for if you should lose it — " 
 " What then, Yolande ? " demanded Guy, eagerly. 
 "Oh," said she, smiling, " the marquis de la Rivibre 
 would be sadly grieved, I know." 
 
 " And if that were all — if you cared notj I would throw 
 it away to-morrow. Yolande," he exclaimed, passionately, 
 "do you part with me thus ? Say that you would grieve — 
 say that you would weep, or by heaven ! I will seek death, 
 for while I live, I cannot forget you or cease to hope that 
 you will love me ! " 
 
 She listened with half averted face, but there was a 
 suspicious moisture in the violet eyes, and her voice 
 trembled a little as she answered: 
 
 " Oh, do not be rash, dear Guy. Guard your life well, 
 and return soon to Coucy, for my sake." 
 
 He sprang forward to clasp her in his arms, but gliding 
 away, Yolande reached the stairway, and turning with a 
 little smile to Guy, who stood below, playfully shook her 
 head a,t him and vanished, leaving Guy in a state of 
 mingled disappointment and delight. But he no longer 
 suffered the torments of uncertainty; he was at last 
 assured of Yolande's love, and the future appeared to 
 him illumined by a ros eate light. He felt but little incli- 
 nation to listen to the story of Enguerrand de Coucy, 
 which Bertrand had promised to relate to him, and the 
 latter waited in vain for his coming ; for Guy preferred 
 the companionship of his own thoughts, and of the san- 
 guine dreams that filled his mind. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Pierre Gilles did not remember the kindness he had 
 received at the hands of the good wine-merchant, during 
 the years he had spent in his house. He forgot that he 
 had been taken, a perishing outcast from the streets, and 
 only called to mind the scorn with which he had been 
 treated by Jeanne. His love for her, although it deserved 
 not that gentle name, was inspired by admiration of the 
 beauty of her person, mingled with a burning desire to 
 humble her pride, and punish her for the ill-concealed 
 contempt with vhich she regarded him. After revolving 
 many plans for the accomplishment of his purpose, he at 
 last decided on one which he resolved to execute before 
 he set out for Meux, and taking with him two of his 
 friends, the butchers, he stationed himself near the shop 
 of his former master, who presently made his appearance 
 at the door, and, attracted by the fires burning on the 
 quay Pelletier, stepped out upon the street to obtain a 
 better view. Pierre seized the opportunity to slip from 
 his hiding-place, and glide noislessly into the shop where 
 he concealed himself. From his hiding-place he saw 
 Maillart re-enter, and after going up the stairs, return 
 almost immediately and leave the shop, fastening the 
 door behind him. 
 
 " Ha, ha, master," muttered Pierre, " when you come 
 back, you will miss what you would not lose for many a 
 pipe of old wine," and rising softly, he undid the fasten- 
 ings of a window and admitted his companions. They 
 
 i86 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 1 87 
 
 mounted the stairs to the room above, where they found 
 Mistress Mallart and Jeanne, who were naturally alarmed 
 at seeing Pierre walk boldly in, followed by two men 
 whose rude appearance was far from reassuring. Jeanne 
 shrank back as Pierre approached her, and her mother 
 throwing herself between them cried out. 
 
 " Stand you back, Pierre Gilles, and tell me what you 
 want, and why you come here secretly and at night ? " 
 
 " You will soon know what I want," he answered, 
 roughly, " and as for how I came here, that you may find 
 out for yourself, if you can. I know you are alone, and 
 all your screams will not hinder me from carrying off yon- 
 der proud mistress, who hides behind you," and thrusting 
 her aside, he motioned to his companions to hold her 
 arms, while he seized Jeanne and dragged her toward the 
 door. There, one of the fellows came to his assistance, for 
 the active girl struggled hard to escape ; and throwing a 
 large scarf over her head, they hurried her away between 
 them. They were quickly followed by their comrade, who, 
 giving Mistress Maillart a violent push that threw her to 
 the floor, hastened down the stairs, and joining his com- 
 panions all made their escape by the open window, carry- 
 ing Jeanne with them. 
 
 Maillart's daughter was no coward, but yet those of her 
 sex who boast of fearlessness might have been alarmed 
 at being so rudely borne away from home at such an 
 hour, and by one whom they had every reason to dislike 
 and fear. It is not strange then that as they threaded 
 their way through the dark and crooked streets, her cap- 
 tors were obliged to walk slowly and at last to almost 
 carry the trembling girl, whose feet refused to support 
 her. At length they stopped and entered a house where 
 they removed the scarf from Jeanne's face. To her sur- 
 
i88 
 
 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 prise and relief she found herself in the presence of the 
 Provost Marcel, and as soon as she could collect her 
 thoughts, she besought him to tell her wherefore she had 
 been torn away from her father's house, and so harshly 
 treated. 
 
 " But surely," she said, trying to smile, " you will pro- 
 tect me. Master Marcel, and send me back ; for you and 
 my father are dear friends, are you not ? " 
 
 Marcel could not meet the trustful look she turned 
 upon him, and avoided her eyes as he replied: "Yes, my 
 pretty Jeanne, you will be safe here in my house, and 
 shall soon return to your mother; but it is too late for 
 you to go to-night, and my good wife shall see that you 
 sleep as comfortably as in your own chamber." 
 
 " But my mother knows not where I am ! She will die 
 of anxiety ; and my father, what will he say? I beg you, 
 dear Master Marcel to let me go to them." 
 
 " Yes, yes child," said he kindly, " but I cannot send 
 my servants with you, for they are busy to-night, and you 
 cannot go alone ; you must content yourself until to- 
 hiorrow, unless you are willing to return with Pierre 
 Gilles." 
 
 " Oh no," cried Jeanne shuddering, " not with him ! 
 Do send him away, good Master Marcel, for he frightens 
 me. I am afraid," and she looked imploringly at him, 
 and fearfully at Pierre who still lingered in the room. 
 
 " I will ; he shall go at once, but do not be alarmed, my 
 child, he shall not touch you." 
 
 " Oh, but see how he stares at me with his cunning 
 green eyes — they make me shiver,f' whispered Jeanne ; 
 " pray drive him away, dear Master Marcel ! " 
 
 The Provost went up to Pierre and said, " You had best 
 join your fellows and see that they are in readiness to 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 1 89 
 
 march before daybreak ; by that time you should be on 
 your way." 
 
 " And shall I find her here when I come back ? " 
 asked Pierre, with a sidelong glance at Jeanne " You 
 looked kindly on her but now, master, and spoke to her 
 as her father does ; though " he added with a grin, " you 
 took good care that I should not hear what you said." 
 
 " Meddle not with what does not concern you," re- 
 joined the Provost. " I do you a favor by keeping the 
 girl in hiding while you are away." 
 
 " You will not let her escape, master .' " 
 " No, my good fellow, but begone now, and look that 
 you strike boldly ; let not the peasants put the butchers of 
 Paris to shame ! " So saying, he dismissed Pierre, but 
 there was a contemptuous smile upon his lips, as he closed 
 the door behind him. 
 
 Returning to Jeanne, he talked with her pleasantly 
 until she had recovered from her fright, and then con- 
 ducted her to his wife, whom he asked to provide for the 
 comfort of their guest. When he re-entered the room 
 where he had received Jeanne, he found that a new vis- 
 itor had arrived; this was no other than the baron de 
 Roye, who, seated in the Provost's chair, nodded care- 
 lessly to him as he came in, and called out. " Ha ! Pro- 
 vost, yonder was a pretty maiden whom your fellows 
 brought in as I passed your door a half an hour ago ! 
 Can'st not give me a glimpse of her face, that I may 
 judge of your good taste ? what have you done with her, 
 man ? By Saint Peter ! I knew not that you merchants 
 dealt in such wares ! Ha, ha, what says your wife to such 
 bargains ? ' ' 
 
 " My lord," said Marcel gravely, " it is true that I re- 
 ceived a young maiden here, and that she was brought 
 
igo BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 hither by force, but it was to save her from being taken 
 elsewhere by a wretch who longs to have her in his power ■ 
 she is an innocent young girl and the daughter of one of 
 my oldest friends." 
 
 The baron smiled sarcastically as he replied : " You 
 refuse to let me see her then. I blame you not for that 
 but your tale is not very plausible, Master Provost.'' 
 
 " Do you not believe me ? Well, see for yourself, and 
 rising, Marcel opened the door into the next apartment, 
 where his wife sat holding Jeanne's hand in hers, and 
 talking pleasantly with her. The baron was somewhat 
 abashed at this sight, and muttered an apology for his 
 mistake ; then looking keenly at the young girl, he said : 
 
 "I have seen a face like that somewhere. What is the 
 maiden's name, Master Provost — Jeanne Maillart? 
 Peste ! it is not that ! Who is this Maillart ? is it not he 
 who has turned all the merchants against you ? " 
 
 " Yes, my lord," said Marcel, and he spoke bitterly. 
 
 " And yet you are willing to serve his daughter? Why 
 I understand it not, for if her father has injured you, here 
 is an opportunity to be revenged by abandoning the girl. 
 Faith, why do you not take advantage of it ? " 
 
 " Because " returned Marcel, " I am not yet so base 
 as to revenge myself upon a helpless child ; and perhaps," 
 he added thoughtfully, " perhaps I am myself to blame 
 that Frangois and I are not friends as of old." 
 
 The baron laughed. " You grow womanish. Marcel ; 
 but do as you please, 'tis nought to me. Yet I wish I 
 could remember whom that girl's face is like. Aha ! I re- 
 member now. Yes," he went on, but speaking under 
 his breath so that Marcel could not hear, " and this trinket 
 gives the clew ; beshrew me if I do not follow it for sport." 
 After a few moments, during which he seemed to be ar- 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. igi 
 
 ranging some plan that had occurred to him, he looked 
 up. " Provost," said he, " my lord of Navarre bids me 
 say to you that the time approaches, for his force is now 
 strong enough to face the Regent. Will you keep your 
 promise then, and deliver up the gates ? " 
 
 " I have passed my word," answered Marcel, " and will 
 keep it." 
 
 "Very well. Provost," said the baron abruptly, 
 " these walls of yours are strong ! Will they keep famine 
 out ? " 
 
 " What mean you, my lord ? There is no fear of fam- 
 ine, unless the English come back." 
 
 "No," returned de Roye, "but yet the Dauphin holds 
 the Marne and the upper Seine." 
 
 " The isle of France and Normandy furnish us with 
 food, my lord." 
 
 The baron smiled and looked full in his companion's 
 face. " True," said he, " but if Navarre should close the 
 lower Seine you would be caught like rats in a trap, and it 
 would not be the Dauphin who would send provisions to 
 Paris, unless," he added slowly, " unless Paris sent him 
 something in return." 
 
 " I understand you not ; " but Marcel grew pale as he 
 spoke, for a suspicion of his meaning dawned upon him. 
 
 The baron watched his face as though enjoying his 
 perplexity, then laughed as he said : " I only mean to 
 warn you that you must be true ; that if Navarre should 
 close the river and cut off the city's supplies from the 
 north, you are lost, for the people would give you up to 
 the Dauphin, and you know what you have to expect 
 from him. Now, Master Provost, you understand the 
 situation you are in, and will not refuse to do me a little 
 favor.'' 
 
192 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 " Certainly not, my lord, I shall be glad to serve you if 
 I can." 
 
 " Very good ; I am now going to join my lord of Navarre, 
 and I ask you to allow yonder maiden to go with me." 
 
 "What ! " exclaimed Marcel in astonishment ; "Jeanne 
 Maillart ? But how can I do that? I have promised her 
 to send her safely home, and she trusts me. Think what 
 it is you ask, and then — and then — she is so young, so 
 innocent, so helpless ; it would be deadly sin, it is too 
 much — I cannot ! " 
 
 " Look you. Marcel," said the baron, "I am a hard 
 man and pursue my aims though the devil himself stand 
 in the way. I can look on a woman's tears and laugh ; 
 she may sob herself to death, and I regard it not, nor 
 turn aside from my purpose to comfort her, but you are 
 weaker, and I tell you that if you suffer yourself to be 
 swayed by pity for every girl who comes to you with im- 
 ploring looks, you will be ruined. Now I have a reason 
 for wishing to take this Jeanne Maillart with me, but I 
 will do her no harm, and you may send some woman with 
 her if you will." 
 
 Marcel was greatly agitated ; he knew the evil reputa- 
 tion of the baron, who made no attempt to conceal it, and 
 he also knew that he would not hesitate to injure him 
 with the king of Navarre, if he refused to give Jeanne up. 
 An offence to the baron would doubtless be represented 
 as an insult to his master, and might easily result in the 
 destruction of all the Provost's hopes, and end in his utter 
 ruin. Nevertheless he recoiled from the thought of placing 
 the daughter of his old friend in the power of this unscrupu- 
 lous man, and to avoid it was almost willing to bid him 
 do his worst, and to abide the risk. But the baron 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 1 93 
 
 marked his cruel perplexity, and did not wish to drive 
 him to extremity. 
 
 " Master Marcel," he said, " if you pleasure me in this 
 whim of mine, I give you the word of a belted knight not 
 to injure the damsel, and to protect her in so far as I can. 
 By St. Peter, I care for no merchant's daughters, and fly 
 at higher game ! " 
 
 "Yet will you be able to protect her? " asked Marcel, 
 anxiously, " and how long will she be detained ? I would 
 willingly gratify yoii, my lord, in anything but this, and 
 even in this, if you assure me that Jeanne will be treated 
 with honor." 
 
 " She shall be," rejoined the baron. 
 
 " And," continued Marcel, " there is a faithful serving- 
 woman here who could wait upon her. Will you take her 
 with you, and not separate them ? " 
 
 "Yes, yes. Provost ; you have my word for all ; no evil 
 will happen to her, and she shall return in honor. Go 
 now and prepare her; tell her she will be honorably 
 treated. Do not hesitate, for she must and shall go with 
 me, unless," he added, threateningly, " you would have 
 Navarre for an enemy." 
 
 Marcel desired his wife to tell Jeanne that she was to 
 go on a short journey with a nobleman, who would pro- 
 tect and treat her kindly, and though she wept and 
 demanded to be told whither she was to be taken, she 
 obtained no satisfaction, since neither Marcel or his 
 wife could inform her of what they were ignorant of them- 
 selves. Mistress Marcel however furnished the poor 
 girl with such articles of dress as were necessary to her 
 comfort, and strictly charged the honest woman who was 
 to accompany her not to leave her for a moment. She 
 then folded Jeanne in her arms and kissing her tenderly 
 13 
 
194 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 led her to the room where the baron was waiting. He 
 received the weeping girl with some marks of respect, 
 and bidding the woman lend her the support of her arm, 
 left the house, when he was joined by five or six of his 
 servants, who followed him as he led the way to the river, 
 and embarked in a boat that lay waiting to receive him. 
 Exhausted by fatigue and excitement, Jeanne sank 
 half fainting on the cushions, leaning her head against 
 the knee of Catherine, who soothed her as well as she 
 could, gently smoothing her hair, and pressing her hand 
 while she whispered to her not to fear. 
 
 Urged by four vigorous rowers, the boat went swiftly 
 onward, gliding through the shadows cast by the towers 
 of Notre Dame, past la Cite', and the islet of le Passeur, 
 crossing the stream and following the left bank until the 
 lights of the University grew faint behind, and disappeared 
 in the haze that was creeping over the slope of St. Gene- 
 vieve and onward still, past the sombre tower of Nesle 
 that flung a sinister look upon the voyagers, who paid 
 no heed to it as they hastened by, and stopped at last 
 before a large house that stood close beside the river, 
 and beyond the outskirts of the city. The baron who 
 had remained perfectly silent since entering the boat, 
 assisted Jeanne to disembark, and led the way up a 
 flight of steps that rose from the water's edge. The two 
 women followed with many misgivings, for the aspect of 
 the house was forbidding enough, standing as it did 
 quite alone, almost upon the brink of the river, and sur- 
 rounded on three sides by a high stone wall. Two or 
 three lights were shining from the windows of this iso- 
 lated house, and the baron's summons was quickly an- 
 swered by a lackey who ushered him into a large room, 
 where he desired his companions to wait, and instantly 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 195 
 
 quitted them. Left alone, they sought to reassure each 
 other, and Catherine, seizing a light and holding it above 
 her head, made the circuit of the apartment, looking 
 eagerly for some door or window by which it would be 
 possible to escape. She was disappointed, however, for 
 the only door was that by which they had entered, and 
 the windows were placed so high as to make it folly to 
 think of reaching them. The walls were bare, and the 
 scanty furniture was so old as to prove that the room 
 was seldom, if ever used. But their apprehensions were 
 in some measure relieved by the appearance of a woman 
 who now came in, and addressed Jeanne very respectfully, 
 begging her to accompany her to another part of the 
 house. As it would have been useless to hesitate, she 
 complied with this request, and followed, clinging to Cath- 
 erine's arm ; but she glanced timidly at the corridors 
 through which they passed, and started at the echoing 
 sound of their feet upon the stair up which they went. 
 It was with difficulty that she suppressed a scream, as 
 they made their way along the winding passages where 
 their own shadows, thrown upon the wall in grotesque 
 and distorted shapes, seemed to mock and threaten them. 
 It appeared an endless journey to the frightened girl, and 
 her alarm increased as they came to a door, which, 
 standing ajar, allowed a stream of light to cross the 
 corridor, and from which came the sound of voices and 
 of laughter. But hurrying on, their guide admitted them 
 to a room better lighted and far more cheerful than any 
 they had seen, and turning to Jeanne assured her that 
 she would come early in the morning to render her any 
 service in her power. 
 
 " You are in sad want of rest," she said, looking at her 
 kindly. " Sleep quietly, and do not be alarmed : your 
 
196 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 woman will be with you, and my lord directed me to see 
 that you have all you need to make you comfortable, 
 until you return to your home." 
 
 " Oh tell me when that will be ! " exclaimed Jeanne, 
 " and tell me why I am brought to this dreadful place." 
 
 " I cannot tell you, my dear mistress," said the woman 
 pleasantly, " for I do not know ; but sleep now, sleep 
 without fear," and she left her to obtain the repose of 
 which she stood so much in need. 
 
 But feverish with excitement, Jeanne Maillart tossed 
 from side to side and started at every sound, until she 
 fell at last into a fitful slumber, that was disturbed by 
 dreams in which the repulsive face of Pierre Gilles and 
 the frowning countenance of the baron de Roye appeared 
 to her by turns. 
 
 Meanwhile the baron was seated in the room from 
 whose half open door came the light, and the sound of 
 voices that had startled Jeanne on her way to her cham- 
 ber. He was not alone. His companion was a man of 
 rather less than medium height, slender, but well propor- 
 tioned ; his dark olive complexion, black hair, and thin 
 nervous face, his slender hands and sparkling eyes told 
 of the hot blood of the South. It was Charles, king of 
 Navarre — Charles le Mauvais, the cousin of the Dauphin, 
 and he had ventured to approach the barriers of Paris to 
 complete his intrigue with the Provost Marcel. The dis- 
 pute in regard to his maternal inheritance of Champagne 
 and Brie had embittered his life, and made him a dan- 
 gerous enemy of his cousin, whose reign was destined to 
 be continually disturbed by his plots and ambitious designs. 
 Of a fiery temperament, he was daring in action, while he 
 was at the same time calculating and perfectly unscrupu- 
 lous. The spirit of intrigue ran in his blood, and he was 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 197 
 
 a master of the art of finesse. Gifted with a persuasive 
 manner and possessing all the volubility of the South, 
 having a consummate knowledge of human nature, and 
 reading men's minds with the swiftness of intuition, he 
 detected at a glance the weakness through which they 
 might be influenced, and took advantage of it to attach 
 them to his interests, or to involve them in the web of his 
 designs — leaving them to extricate themselves as best 
 they might when no longer of service to him. 
 
 He had seen in Etienne Marcel an instrument for the 
 accomplishment of what he had in view, and the Provost 
 of the merchants, who would otherwise have succeeded in 
 doing much for the people, who would have lightened 
 the burden that oppressed them, became a tool in the 
 hands of the crafty noble. Sitting opposite to him, the 
 baron de Roye was describing his visit to Marcel. 
 Charles laughed heartily at the reluctance with which the 
 latter had parted with Jeanne Maillart. " By my faith," 
 said he, " the knave was right to be unwilling to place 
 the dove within reach of the hawk ! but you went too 
 far when you gave your word that she should be sent 
 back, for I know not that. Baron. She may be useful to 
 us, and shall remain here until we know how she came by 
 this. Dost think, de Roye, that this trinket really belongs 
 to the girl ? " and he pointed as he spoke, to a gold chain 
 that lay on the table before him. To this chain was at 
 tached a heart shaped locket, bearing the single name 
 Jeanne engraved upon it. 
 
 " Yes, your highness," answered the baron, " for I found 
 it on the floor of the Provost's room, underneath a scarf 
 that she wore." 
 
 " And which you returned to her. Baron ? " 
 
 " Not I. I threw it on the table, and thrust the chain 
 
198 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 beneath my cloak after I had glanced at the locket ; then 
 when the Provost's wife came in bringing the maiden ready 
 for her journey she exclaimed : ' Why, here is your scarf, 
 Jeanne, but where is the chain, I fear it has been stolen, 
 or you have lost it. ' " 
 
 " Ha ha ! " laughed Charles " she was not wrong. 
 Stolen, quoth she ? I wonder if she suspected the thief ! 
 Did'st have a hang-dog look. Baron ? " 
 
 " No, your highness, I looked on as bold as a stone 
 image ; as innocent as a young lamb, while she searched 
 on the floor, under the table, and in her husband's pockets, 
 all the while making such an outcry as well-nigh deafened 
 me." 
 
 " Good faith ! did you not fear lest she should look 
 under your cloak ? " 
 
 The baron laughed. " Truly she might have ventured 
 so far, but by St. Peter ! I hurried away before she had 
 time to search me." 
 
 " And what said the girl herself ? " 
 
 " She was as silent as though she had been born dumb, 
 and did naught but tremble." 
 
 " Belike you scowled on her. Baron ; and when you 
 frown your brow grows black enough. My word! I 
 wonder not that she shook with fear, and forgot her lost 
 chain. I wager she thought you were the devil, and 
 would fly away with her." 
 
 " She is welcome to think what she pleases, and the 
 devil may fly away with her, and her chain too, for what I 
 care. The girl is pretty enough, but she has not the spirit 
 of a mouse, and would faint at the sight of blood. By St. 
 Peter, she is not worthy of a thought, and had I not 
 vowed to unravel this mystery, I would not lift my finger 
 to do her a service : she might trudge back to the wine 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 199 
 
 shop, and drown herself in a cask of Bordeaux, t'were all 
 one to me ! " 
 
 Charles threw himself back in his seat and laughed 
 aloud. " Why, Baron," said he, "you are sour as a flask of 
 Rhenish, and all because a merchant's daughter trembles 
 to look in your face. But what need you care for that, 
 man, if the fair Yolande of Coucy smile upon you .' There 
 is your mate, de Roye. By all the saints ! there is a spirit 
 that would not droop at the sight of blood, and a glance 
 that would not fall before yours, frown you never so 
 darkly ! Ha ! how speeds your suit ? hast coaxed the 
 young falcon to your hand, my friend .? " 
 
 The baron ■ started up with an oath, then seating him- 
 self, he stamped his foot furiously on the floor as he re- 
 plied : " She has baffled me, your highness." 
 
 " What ! and )'ou have been for weeks in Paris ! How 
 have you missed so fair an opportunity ? " 
 
 " How ? 'Tis because of that cursed old physician, who 
 has thwarted my best laid plans. The insolent old knave 
 barred the house against me, and kept watch and ward 
 over his mistress as though she were some priceless 
 jewel. May I seize his body, ere the foul fiend clutches 
 his soul, for by St. Peter ! if I do, he shall suffer worse 
 torments than the damned ! " 
 
 An ironical smile curved the thin lips of the king as he 
 said : " Fye, Baron, you should not be so violent, and 
 rage thus against a feeble old man. But art thou not 
 ashamed to be outwitted by this poor creature, who must 
 now be in his dotage, for when I was a boy he was al- 
 ready bowed down by years. Bertrand, yes, Bertrand is 
 his name, I remember him well." 
 
 " But, your highness, I take no shame to myself to be 
 outwitted by him, for he is in league with Satan. Yet 
 
2 0O BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 would I have foiled him but for the young count de la 
 Roche, who came up as I was carrying the lady off. 
 Curses on him, he shall dearly answer it ! " 
 
 The baron relapsed into a gloomy silence, and gazed 
 disconsolately at his companion, who exclaimed cheer- 
 fully : " Come, come, do not be so downhearted ! 'tis an 
 evil star that is ever obscured by clouds. Pluck up your 
 spirit, de Roye, and do not despair, for if my plans suc- 
 ceed, St. Denys ! your star will be in the ascendant. I 
 will stand your friend with the lady : she shall be yours 
 in spite of Bertrand, or de la Roche, or the devil. But 
 Baron, this young count Guy de la Roche promises well 
 and is like to prove a dangerous rival, for he has a face 
 such as women love to look upon. He is brave too 
 or he were no true son of his father, and they say he is 
 skilful enough with sword and lance. If you meet him 
 you had best wear your strongest suit of Milan steel and 
 look well to yourself.'' 
 
 " I fear him not," muttered the baron. " But what is 
 your pleasure regarding Jeanne Maillart, what shall we 
 do with her now that she is caged ?'" 
 
 " Let her remain here : she is safe enough, and will 
 have time to recover from her fright before we return. 
 Perhaps she will then be able to look in your face without 
 trembling, ha, ha ! de Roye," and Charles smiled mali- 
 ciously as he spoke. But the baron paid no heed to the 
 taunt, which indeed he did not care for, and the king con- 
 tinued. 
 
 " Yes, she may stay here. You will give the woman 
 strict orders to watch the girl, and see that she goes not be. 
 jfond the garden. There is no danger of her escaping, 
 for the walls are high, and this pla-ce is lonesome and has 
 an evil name." 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 201 
 
 " But will not your highness see the girl to-morrow ? " 
 
 " No, Baron, it will be time enough after we finish with 
 these scoundrel peasants : after we trample them under 
 our charger's feet and crucify their leaders." A cruel 
 smile crept over the king's face as he spoke and observ- 
 ing the baron's surprise, he added, " Though my cousin 
 Charles and I are deadly enemies, I will assist him to 
 crush the Jacquiers. St. Denys ! " he exclaimed proudly 
 and with flashing eyes, " my cousin has done me bitter 
 wrong, but 'tis not by the hands of peasant churls that 
 I seek to revenge myself. No, no, de Roye, the eagle 
 fights with his own kind, but he defends his rival's eyrie 
 from the base vultures who would defile it. Ha, we 
 will forward toward Meux, and if need be defend the 
 ladies like spotless knights, though I trow we be none 
 of the most immaculate, you and I." 
 
 The baron laughed as he answered : " Some few stains 
 there may be on our shields if one looks keenly for 
 them, but I am ever ready to put lance in rest for the 
 honor of dames, and when we are in the neighbor- 
 hood of Meux, we may see the fellow of this locket 
 of Jeanne Maillart's for I know where it is, and have 
 seen it." 
 
 " That is how you came to suspect' that this contained 
 a miniature I suppose," said Charles. 
 
 " Yes," rejoined the baron, "but I warrant that the wine- 
 merchant never knew how to open it ; " and touching a 
 spring, the locket flew open, disclosing the portrait of a 
 lady set round with brilliants. 
 
 "Who has the other," asked Charles, " and how came 
 you to discover it ? " 
 
 " 'Tis a long story and would weary your highness, 
 but," said de Roye, " the fellow of this locket is in the 
 
■'"^ BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 hands of a woman who lives in the forest of Ermonne, 
 and passes for a witch. Blanche, she is called, mad 
 Blanche." 
 
 " We will see her," replied the king. " Perhaps she 
 can explain what we seek to know. But the night wears 
 away, Baron, and I begin to be drowsy. Come to me 
 to-morrow.'' 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 The peasant army was leaving its camp before the 
 forest of Ermonne. Band after band moved away from 
 the spot where they had been encamped, and marched 
 away upon the high road leading to Manx. 
 
 Guiilaume Callet stood upon a hill watching the 
 departure of his followers, who, led by Jacques, were 
 setting forward in disorderly fashion to besiege the 
 town, whose plunder they were assured would enrich 
 them all. The sun had set before the last straggling 
 troop disappeared, and twilight was deepening into night 
 as Callet turned away and skirting the edge of the 
 forest for some distance left it behind him, and descended 
 the slope leading to the river. He walked rapidly on, 
 following the bank of the stream until he came to a 
 dense thicket of alders that overhung the water. Push- 
 ing through this, dashing aside the branches with an 
 impatient hand as he went, he found himself at the 
 mouth of a cave or natural cavern in the rock, which 
 there rose to a considerable height, and jutting into the 
 river, formed a little promontory whose summit com- 
 manded a view of the course of the Marne for miles. A 
 faint light came from the interior of the cavern, which 
 Callet entered after a moment's hesitation. As he 
 advanced, the light became more distinct, and was seen 
 to proceed from a fire burning on the rocky floor. 
 Beside the fire was the crouching figure of a woman who 
 started up as Callet approached, waving her arms as 
 though to repel an unwelcome visitor; but paying no 
 
 203 
 
204 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 heed to her inhospitable gestures, he advanced until he 
 stood before the singular being who inhabited that 
 secluded spot. Her figure was tall and gaunt, and her 
 face, embrowned by exposure to sun and wind, seemed 
 more emaciated than it really was because of the promi- 
 nence of her high cheek bones, over which the skin was 
 di awn like a shrivelled parchment ; her aquiline nose was 
 thin and sharp, standing like a sentinel over a mouth 
 which was rendered almost horrible by two enormous 
 front teeth, which, curving downward, resembled the 
 tusks of a wild animal. Her hair, once coal black, was 
 thickly streaked with grey and hung neglected about her 
 shoulders ; her eyes were small but bright and piercing, 
 and burned with an unnatural fire that betrayed the 
 madness lurking there. She was dressed in a faded blue 
 gown that fell but little below her knees, a ragged scarlet 
 mantle covered her shoulders, and a red cloth, passed over 
 her head, was fastened beneath her chin by an ornament 
 that contrasted strangely enough with the rest of her at- 
 tire : it was a heart-shaped locket, apparently of gold, that 
 served her for a brooch, and seemed singularly out of 
 place on the withered throat of this eccentric creature, 
 who raised her voice to a shrill scream as she addressed 
 Guillaume Callet. 
 
 " What brings you hither, dark browed peasant ? 
 What brings you to the dwelling of mad Blanche, 
 who would fain be alone, alone, alone ? Begone, and 
 leave me in peace, before you hear that which you care 
 not to learn, and before I look upon you with the evil 
 eye! What!" she cried with a wild laugh. "Will you 
 not go? Well, stay then, fool ! " and kneeling down she 
 held her skinny hands over the coals, drawing the tattered 
 mantle more closely about her, while she fixed her burn- 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 205 
 
 ing eyes on Callet who stood silent, and as if uncertain 
 how to reply. At last he spoke. " Why do you live 
 alone, mother," he asked, " here in this hole, when not 
 a peasant on the borders of the Marne but would gladly 
 help to give you shelter, and see that you do not lack 
 food and fire ? " 
 
 Blanche laughed mockingly as she answered : " And 
 why would they give me shelter and food and fire ? Is it 
 because they love me ; or because they fear lest I look 
 upon their children and they die unbaptized ; lest their 
 cattle droop, lest their harvests wither with the blight ? 
 Oho ! what cares Blanche for such love, what for gifts 
 they dare not withhold if she stretches out her hand for 
 them ! Seek not to deceive me with foolish words, think- 
 ing I believe that you come to offer me food and shelter. 
 Tell me then, Guillaume Callet, think not to hide the 
 truth from me," and she pointed her long finger threaten- 
 ingly at the peasant, who, bold as he was, trembled be- 
 fore her and looked down, unable to meet the searching 
 gaze fixed upon him. 
 
 " Do not be angry, mother,'' he said, " I know it was 
 overbold in me to come here to-night, but I have some- 
 thing to ask you, and they say you can answer all man- 
 ner of hard questions ; that you know what will happen 
 to-morrow, and — afterward ; that you see what is hidden 
 from others, and I would fain know whether — " 
 
 " What need to tell me, do I not know the question 
 that trembles on your tongue ? Aha ! and why must you 
 know to-night, whether you will succeed in your attack 
 on yonder town ; will you not know soon enough, will you 
 not know to-morrow, fool ? " 
 
 " But hide it not from me, mother. See, here is gold 
 for you." 
 
2 06 
 
 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 Blanche sprang to her feet and struck the proffered 
 coin from his outstretched hand. " Gold," she said, 
 " what is gold to me ! Ah ! " she screamed, " it was the 
 cursed glitter of the gold that robbed me of my child, my 
 pretty child. Out of my sight, Guillaume Callet ! for you 
 remind me — But see, but see, where the foul fiend 
 comes holding out hands filled with yellow gold, tempt- 
 ing Blanche again. Hist ! black browed peasant, dost 
 thou see Satan yonder? but I fear him not, not I !" and 
 her wild laugh rang through the cavern, as she grasped 
 her companion by the arm, and pointed to a dark corner 
 where the fire light flickered on the wall. " Dost not see 
 him ? " she screamed, again staring into his face. 
 
 "No, mother," answered Callet. "I see naught but 
 the wall of rock and the shadows on it." 
 
 " Out on thee for a blind fool ! " she cried, pushing 
 him so violently away from her that he almost fell. 
 " He sees naught, he sees naught besides the wall, ha, ha, 
 but Blanche can see ; Oho ! " and she stood with eyes 
 fixed and staring straight before her, while she swayed 
 her body from side to side crooning to herself, and seem- 
 ing unconscious of the presence of Callet, who, awed by 
 her incoherent words and strange manner, feared to dis- 
 turb her. He stood for some moments watching her 
 silently, and as if fascinated ; for in common with all the 
 peasants of the district, he firmly believed her to be 
 gifted with supernatural powers. 
 
 At length he roused himself. " Mother," he said, " I 
 must go ; tell me then if I shall succeed to-morrow." 
 
 " Who speaks to me .? " cried Blanche, starting like 
 one suddenly awakened. " Who asks of to-morrow ? Ah ! 
 'tis the black browed peasant. Why will you not be- 
 gone ? " she asked, turning her eyes upon him. " Go, go 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 207 
 
 Guillaume Callet ; to-morrow will bring what you dream 
 not of ! " 
 
 " But I will know," and he seized her roughly by the 
 wrist. " By the devil, I will force you to speak ! " 
 
 " Force me ! " shrieked Blanche, disengaging her wrist 
 from his gripe with a strength it seemed impossible she 
 should possess. " He will force me to speak, this black 
 peasant, this slave, this dog who murders women and chil- 
 dren ! Ha, fia ! " and her shrill laugh echoed through the 
 cavern, peal after peal. Callet, furious at being thus 
 mocked, was about to rush upon the woman, who stood 
 drawn up to her full height, her eyes glaring, her hair 
 streaming over her shoulders, her mouth flecked with foam, 
 distorted by its hideous teeth, and by the demoniac laughter 
 that issued from it. But he quailed before the fierce glance 
 that met his ; all his superstitious dread returned as he 
 gazed upon this fury, whose bare arms were extended with 
 a menacing gesture, and whose appearance was rendered 
 more frightful by the lurid glow of the fire light in which 
 she stood. 
 
 " Back," she cried, " back 'ere I wither your arm in 
 its socket ! Oho ! do you tremble now, you who would 
 compel me to speak ? " 
 
 In truth Callet had shrunk backward, cowed by the 
 threat which he did not doubt that she was able to exe- 
 cute. 
 
 " Spare me, mother," he said humbly, " do not curse 
 me, for I meant no harm and will trouble you no more. 
 Yes, mother, I will go if you wish to be alone ; " and 
 he retreated toward the mouth of the cave. 
 
 But Blanche, whose anger was fully aroused, did not suf- 
 fer him to escape so easily. "Stop ! " she screamed. " You 
 would not go when I bade you, and now you shall stay. 
 
2o8 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 Aha ! you shall listen while I tell you of what I saw this 
 day. I saw a raven fly down from a tree, and pounce on 
 a little wood dove whose wing was broken so that it 
 could not escape ; and the raven carried the helpless dove 
 up to his perch, and there he sat croaking and flapping 
 his ugly wings ; so he gloated over his prey, and forgot 
 the great eagle that lived far above on the crag. But the 
 eagle's eye was on him, and there came a rush of wings as 
 he swooped downward, and struck the silly raven with his 
 sharp talons. Oho ! Guillaume Callet, how like you the 
 fate of the raven ? " 
 
 " What does it matter to me, mother ? The raven is a 
 foul bird." 
 
 " Listen to the fool ! " cried Blanche. " What does it 
 matter to him ? Ha, ha ! he asks what does it matter to 
 him, and yet he is not mad ! Oh, what a dullard not to 
 be mad, so he might understand. Hearken then, gloomy 
 browed peasant. Your hands are red with the blood of 
 the helpless and the innocent : your soul is blacker than 
 the raven's wing, and night is not darker than the pas- 
 sions that rage within you. Yonder lies the fair city, and 
 within are the beautiful, the dainty ones, the weak : within 
 are sparkling jewels and the cursed gold. The fiend 
 whispers in your ears : ' all are yours.' But beware, for the 
 eagle's eye is upon you, his talons are sharp, and his 
 wings are strong. Beware the swoop of the eagle, foul 
 raven ! Aha ! I see a cloud of wings, and hear the hoarse 
 scream of the birds of prey as they hover over the slain. 
 Oho ! peasant, I see your fellows there pierced with the 
 lance, cleft with the sword, trampled by the iron feet of 
 the horses, all, all, but no, where is the black browed one ? 
 where is he ? Ah " she muttered to herself, passing her 
 hand across her eyes, " this mist hides him from me : how 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 209 
 
 it floats like a black cloud before my eyes. Oho ! it is 
 gone, and I see again. Ha, ha ! I see him now ! yes, 
 yes, but what is that upon his head, a crown of thorns ? 
 Aha, 'tis an iron crown heated red hot ! Hark, how he 
 screams, see how he writhes as the sharp points pierce 
 his brain : ha, ha, 'tis a brave coronet ! Oho ! Guillaume 
 Callet,'' she cried, turning her gaze suddenly upon 
 him, " you would fain hear of to-morrow, how like you the 
 fair day ? " 
 
 Callet had stood as if stupefied, listening to the wild 
 words whose meaning gradually dawned upon his mind. 
 He was filled with rage and terror, and remained a 
 moment with downcast looks and scowling brow ; but 
 when he made a step forward his knees shook under him, 
 and without answering the mocking question addressed 
 to him, he turned about, and with a muttered curse 
 rushed hurriedly away, pursued by the shrill laughter of 
 Blanche, and with her words ringing in' his ears. 
 
 While he hastened forward to overtake the peasants 
 led by Jacques, a boat was slowly crossing the Marne, 
 directing its course toward the headland underneath 
 which was the cavern inhabited by Blanche. As this boat 
 reached the land, four men disembarked and passed 
 quickly up the ravine, until they reached the spot from 
 which the peasant had shordy before fled in dismay. 
 Halting there a moment, two of the party stationed them- 
 selves at the mouth of the cavern, while the others 
 entered, and guided by the light from within soon stood 
 before Blanche, who seated on a rude stool, her arms 
 folded and her head sunk upon her breast, appeared to 
 be asleep. Her visitors were in no haste to disturb the 
 sleeper : they whispered together, and looked curiously 
 about them, until the silence was broken by the smooth 
 14 
 
2IO BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 clear voice of Charles, king of Navarre, as he addressed 
 his companion. " By my word," said he, " you have 
 brought me to a witches' den, de Roye ! Is yonder hag 
 she of whom you told me ? " 
 
 " She is, your highness, and see, upon her neck the 
 fellow of Jeanne Maillart's locket : shall I seize it before 
 she awakes, or shall I prick her with my dagger to teach 
 her better manners than to sleepin your presence ? " 
 
 " No, Baron, we had best use her gently or she may re- 
 fuse to tell us how she came by such an ornament, and, 
 my word ! we have no time to spend in coaxing a woman 
 to speak against her will ! So place your hand on her 
 shoulder, but beware lest she bite through your gauntlet 
 with those long tusks of hers ! Soho ! shake her not so 
 rudely — gently, de Roye, or we shall have trouble ere we 
 learn the secret." 
 
 His caution came too late, however, for the baron, laying 
 his heavy hand upon the old woman, shouted in her ear : 
 " Awake, Blanche, awake then thou hag of Satan !" Thus 
 rudely aroused, she opened her eyes and stared full in the 
 face of de Roye with so wild a look that he involuntarily 
 retreated a step : she then folded her arms and resumed 
 her former attitude. The baron was about to repeat his 
 eflfort to rouse her, but the king signed to him to stand 
 aside, and going up to Blanche spoke to her in a gentle 
 voice. " Good mother," he said, " open your eyes and 
 listen to me : tell me where you found the pretty jewel 
 you wear upon your neck — how came you by it, mother?" 
 Her eyes opened suddenly, and she grasped the locket 
 tightly in her hand. 
 
 " No, no," she said as if talking to herself, "they shall 
 not take it from me, 'tis all I have left to remind me of 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 211 
 
 my child. Ah, would you rob poor Blanche ? " she ex- 
 claimed wildly. 
 
 " No, good mother," replied the king with a pleasant 
 smile. " You shall keep the pretty plaything to remind 
 you of your child, only let me see it." 
 
 " And why would you see it ? No, you shall not see 
 it!" 
 
 " But, mother, if you will not let me look at it, tell me 
 at least who gave it you." 
 
 "I will not tell, unless you swear not to take it away; 
 will you swear ? " 
 
 "Yes, mother, upon the cross." 
 
 " No, not that " cried Blanche, " swear by the spirits of 
 the river and the fountain ; swear by the sun and rain ; 
 by the blood that warms your body ; by the poison that 
 chills the veins, and turns the heart to ice." 
 
 " 'Tis a formidable oath," said the king under his 
 breath, " but, peste! what matter, she is mad. Well, 
 mother," he said aloud, " I swear by all of these." 
 
 " Then I will speak, for you have a kind voice and you 
 smile on me. Yes, Blanche will tell you all," and she 
 fixed her eyes upon his face, speaking in an uncertain 
 and broken voice though her words were wild. 
 
 " There was a noble knight who took away my 
 daughter, my darling child, and she came back to me and 
 died. She was all I had to love and he stole her away, 
 the wicked knight, but I had my revenge. Yes, Blanche 
 had her revenge. Are you the robber who killed my 
 child ? But no, he is dead, and she, the beautiful lady 
 here (and she pointed to the locket on her neck), she is 
 dead, and their child — oho ! Blanche stole her away to 
 be revenged, and perhaps she is dead too Now will you 
 
212 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 go away, and leave the jewel that reminds me of my 
 child ? " 
 
 " Yes, mother," said the king, " but tell me first the 
 name of the wicked knight, or have you forgotten ? " 
 
 " Forgotten ! no, no, but do not let him hear, that bad 
 man yonder,'' and she pointed to de Roye. "Hark!" 
 she said, coming close to the king, and whispering in his 
 ear. Charles started in surprise and was silent for a 
 moment, then smiling kindly he said, " You have had a 
 fine revenge, mother, for the beautiful lady who made her 
 husband forget your daughter, died of grief at the loss of 
 her child." 
 
 "Yes, yes ! " and she laughed as she spoke, " Blanche 
 knew how to wring her heart ! but," she added, shaking 
 her head, " she did not suffer enough, for she died." 
 
 " And what became of the little child she wept for ? " 
 asked the king. 
 
 Soothed by the gentleness with which he treated her, 
 Blanche's manner lost much of its wildness as she 
 answered, " Ah ! I might have made it suffer too, but the 
 little child was not to blame, and I gave it to one who 
 promised to take care of it. Perhaps it still lives and is 
 happy. I am glad I saved her life. If she knew, perhaps 
 she would say a prayer for poor Blanche's soul. Now I 
 have told you all." 
 
 " Thank you, good mother, but before I go, will you 
 let me see the picture of the beautiful lady .■' " 
 
 She looked at him half distrustfully ; but none knew 
 better than Charles of Navarre how to assume a frank 
 and pleasing manner, and his smiling face banished all 
 suspicion from the mind of Blanche, who removed the 
 locket and, touching the spring, held it open in her hand. 
 
 Charles leaned forward and examined it carefully, then 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 213 
 
 rose and whispered to de Roye, "You were right, and 
 yonder is a copy of the trinket that you found. The por- 
 trait and arms are the same, and the old woman's story is 
 proof enough, though if more is needed, it will be easy to 
 procure. But look you, Baron, we must have the minia- 
 ture, and perhaps it would be well enough — yes, we will 
 secure the old woman ! " 
 
 " How can we take her now ? " asked de Roye, " What 
 can we do with her ? " 
 
 " We will find a place to hold her, until we have leisure 
 to follow up this mystery," returned the king. "Wait, 
 Baron, I will get the locket, and as soon as I have it, do 
 you call in our men and let them seize the hag : " then 
 approaching Blanche he said gently, " Mother, let me look 
 once more at the pretty lady's face." 
 
 But she shook her head, " No, no," she muttered, and yet 
 she went on looking keenly at him. " He has sworn by 
 life and death, he dares not deceive me. Here then," she 
 said aloud, and opening her hand as she spoke, " look 
 once more if you will." 
 
 " Thank you, good mother," rejoined the king with a 
 sarcastic smile as he received the locket, which he 
 instantly thrust in his breast, signing at the same time to 
 the baron to summon the men stationed without. Blanche 
 leaped to her feet and darted a furious look at the king, 
 who bore it unmoved, and with a smile still upon his lips. 
 
 " Seize this woman ! " he said to the men who ran up 
 in obedience to the baron's signal. They were about to 
 lay hold of her, when Blanche, screaming out, " Your 
 oath ! remember your oath ! " suddenly disappeared, nor 
 could they discover how or where she made her escape, 
 or find the least sign of any hidden passage-way, although 
 they searched in every corner of the cavern. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 It was ^&/ite day of St. Celine, but instead of festiv- 
 ity, terror and confusion reigned in Meux, for the treach- 
 erous mayor had betrayed the gates to the peasants who 
 were instantly joined by a great number of citizens who 
 sympathized with them in their hatred of the nobles. 
 
 According to his agreement with Soulas, Pierre Gilles 
 and his companions had been admitted to the city before 
 the peasants, and they lay concealed, waiting for the 
 moment when they could issue from their hiding-place 
 and begin their work of pillage. Soulas had shrewdly 
 selected the day and hour. He knev/ that the Dauphiness 
 had given a great entertainment the night before, and 
 he thought he would take the nobles by surprise. But he 
 had not counted on the vigilance of the marquis de la 
 Rivifere, who, apprised of what was going forward (though 
 too late to prevent the peasants from entering), was yet in 
 time to rouse the Dauphiness and her ladies, and to send 
 them to the great market which was well fortified, and 
 difficult to approach since it was nearly surrounded by the 
 Marne, which flowed in the form of a loop about it. This 
 place the marquis prepared to defend and had no doubt 
 of being able to do so successfully ; but he was astonished 
 at the assurance of Callet, and enraged at the disloyal 
 citizens, who, casting away their allegiance, would have 
 allowed the wife of the Dauphin and a crowd of the 
 noblest dames in France, to fall into the hands of the 
 ferocious peasants. He lost no time, however, in drawing 
 
 214 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 215 
 
 up his force to oppose their attack, marshalling his 
 knights and men-at-arms in firm array, riding from rank to 
 rank reminding them that they were about to defend the 
 honor of tlie Dauphin, as well as their own, and urging 
 them to seize the opportunity, thrust upon them, of crush- 
 ing the Jacquerie at a blow. Meanwhile the peasants 
 were advancing through the town uttering loud shouts. 
 Having . obtained so easy an entrance to the city, and 
 meeting with no opposition from the citizens who either 
 joined them or concealed themselves, they thought the 
 battle already won, and murmured loudly against their 
 leaders who urged them onward toward the market 
 place. They were eager to begin the work of pillage, and 
 unwillingly followed Callet who told them that they must 
 first defeat the little band of knights before them. 
 
 " Ho, ho ! " they shouted, " if we must fight before we 
 eat, let us kill yonder cowards who hide their faces under 
 steel caps ! Be they the proud seigneurs who trample 
 on us ? Ho, ho ! we will swallow them at a mouthful ! " 
 and they rushed forward in a disorderly mass, singing 
 and cursing as they went. 
 
 It was a frightful moment for the noble dames, who 
 saw the slender force of their defenders about to be 
 assailed by an army, a furious raging army, intoxicated 
 with success, and filling the air with hideous threats. It 
 was a perilous moment for France, and well it was that 
 so resolute and skilful a knight as the marquis de la 
 Rivifere commanded the gentlemen who were to oppose 
 the destructive tide that swept upon, and threatened to 
 overwhelm them. 
 
 The peasants advanced until, reaching the plain in front 
 of the market, they halted, and their leaders attempted to 
 form them into more orderly companies, as each strag- 
 
2l6 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 gling band emerged from the streets through which they 
 had marched in wild disorder. It was this moment 
 that the marquis chose, and placing himself at the 
 head of his knights, he gave the signal to charge. 
 " Forward," he cried, " God and St. Denys to aid ! Fol- 
 low me." He was answered by loud shouts of " Mont- 
 joye ! St. Denys ! on, on ! " as setting spurs to their 
 horses, the knights rode at full speed upon the peasants, 
 piercing their confused ranks as the sharp prow of a ship 
 cleaves and dashes aside the waves. The onset of this 
 compact body of steel clad horsemen was irresistible ; the 
 ill armed peasants went down before it like ripe grain 
 before the scythe of the reaper : a broad swath of corpses 
 marked the course of the riders, who charged again and 
 again, until involved in the mass of their enemies, they 
 were no longer able to preserve their close order, and 
 fought singly, each man hewing his way through the 
 crowd that surged about him. The peasants, unable to 
 make any impression on the armor of proof that defended 
 their opponents, threw themselves upon the ground and 
 crawling underneath the horses, stabbed them with their 
 long knives, or surrounding the rider sought to pull him 
 down, when, unable to get upon his feet because of his 
 heavy armor he was despatched by blows of their axes. 
 The marquis perceived the danger of allowing the battle 
 to become a series of personal encounters, in which each 
 horseman would be thus -surrounded by a score of assail- 
 ants, and he endeavored to rally his scattered force. 
 Planting his banner on a rising ground, he took his sta- 
 tion there with a few knights and some fifty men-at-arms, 
 commanding them to stand firm and to afford succor only 
 to those who were in danger of being overborne by 
 numbers. 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 217 
 
 In the mean time, Gillaume Callet and Jacques, both 
 armed with huge axes, fought on foot. These men of 
 gigantic size and ferocious aspect, rushed from place to 
 place waving their bloody axes, encouraging their com- 
 rades, urging them to maintain the contest, and appearing 
 to be indifferent to death, so recklessly did they expose 
 their lives ; and had Pierre Gilles led the butchers to their 
 aid, the combat would probably have been decided in their 
 favor. But the plunder of the town was a temptation not 
 to be resisted by the mob from Paris,which was busily en- 
 gaged in breaking into the houses, robbing at will, and 
 murdering all who resisted them. The issue of the battle 
 was doubtful, when a knight spurred up to the spot where 
 the marquis sat sternly watching the fight, marking those 
 who were hard pressed and sending them aid, while he 
 restrained the eagerness of those who would have dashed 
 blindly into the melee. "Where is the marquis de la 
 Rivifere," shouted the rider, as he urged his horse forward 
 " I bring you word of succor at hand, noble Marquis,'' he 
 exclaimed, as de la Rivibre rode up to his side. 
 
 " Ha ! 'tis in good time. Sir Knight," replied the mar- 
 quis, " for, by heaven, we are hard beset ! Who comes 
 to our aid ? " 
 
 "The noble count de Foix and the Captal of Buch fol- 
 low me close, and yonder you may see the gleam of 
 their spears," returned the knight, pointing to a cloud 
 of dust that rose in the distance, and through which could 
 be seen the flash of lances. 
 
 " Back, back," cried the marquis, " and say to the 
 count de Foix that my banner still waves : bid him fol- 
 low the river bank and charge the peasants in the rear. 
 Ha ! your horse is spent, take mine," and flinging 
 himself to the ground, he gave his rein to the messenger. 
 
2l8 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 " Away, Sir Knight, bear my message to the count and 
 linger not. Spur ! spur ! " 
 
 The flashing of armor could soon be seen, and the 
 tramp of horses came every moment more distinctly to 
 the ear. Presently a large body of knights and men-at- 
 arms swept full in view, and a grim smile overspread 
 the face of the marquis, as he caught sight of the banners 
 of de Foix and the Captal, and marked the skill with 
 which the horsemen wheeled to the left without decreasing 
 their speed, then halted suddenly a bow-shot from the en- 
 emy. As soon as their horses had recovered breath, the 
 entire troop dashed forward and fell upon the rear of the 
 peasant army, while at the same moment, the marquis at 
 the head of the small force he held in reserve, charged 
 down the slope and threw himself into the thickest of the 
 affray. The air was filled with shouts of, " Buch, Buch ! 
 de Foix to the rescue ! " answered by the trumpets of the 
 marquis, and cries of, " Montjoye ! St. Denys ! France, 
 France ! " 
 
 The peasants, wavering before, were thrown into con- 
 fusion by this fresh attack. They had fought stubbornly, 
 but they offered no further resistance. Seized by an un- 
 governable panic they turned their backs and fled, des- 
 pite the efforts of Callet and of Jacques, who, surrounded 
 by the boldest of their fellows, still held their ground. 
 But as Callet saw his army broken, and the battle lost, 
 the ground heaped with the corpses of his followers, and 
 himself almost deserted, he remembered the words of 
 Blanche, and his face grew pale. " It was true then," 
 he muttered, " I am lost." 
 
 " What are you saying.' " demanded Jacques who stood 
 by his side, his head bare, his armor broken, his face 
 bleeding from a wound that had laid open his cheek ; 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 219 
 
 but Still wielding the huge axe that seemed but a feather 
 in his hand. " What are you saying to yourself, and why 
 are you so pale .'' Ho ! are you afraid because the cow- 
 ards leave us ? " 
 
 " No, Jacques, but it was true ; it was true, — the 
 raven and the eagle, yes, yes, we are lost, I tell you ! " 
 
 " Lost ! " shouted Jacques with a savage laugh, " not 
 while we can swing our axes. Ho, Guillaume, let yon 
 cowards come within reach of our arms if they dare ! 
 See how they draw back ; by the devil, the proud seign- 
 eurs are afraid ! " 
 
 Callet made no reply, but looked about him with a 
 gloomy brow, for the peasants were flying in all directions 
 pursued by the men-at-arms, and it was no longer a battle, 
 but a slaughter : only a few men as reckless as themselves 
 stood by the two leaders of the defeated army, and he 
 knew that it was hopeless to continue the struggle. 
 While Callet hesitated whether to make his escape, or 
 to throw away his life, the marquis de la Riviere ordered 
 a body of men-at-arms to charge the band that still held 
 its ground. 
 
 "Yonder," he said, "must be Guillaume Callet him- 
 self 1 A hundred crowns of gold to him who slays or 
 captures him ! " 
 
 The peasants saw the advancing spears and braced 
 themselves to meet the onset, but they were overborne by 
 the rush. Jacques fell to the ground, thrust through by 
 a lance ; his comrades were struck down and trampled 
 beneath the horses' feet, and the battle was over. Thou- 
 sands of the unfortunate peasants lay dead upon the field, 
 and but few of those who fled escaped the relentless hands 
 of their pursuers. Among these, however, was Guillaume 
 Callet, who, avoiding the thrust of the spear aimed at his 
 
220 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 breast, seized the rein of a horse in his powerful grasp, 
 and striking the rider to the ground, leaped into the sad- 
 dle and galloped away. 
 
 Meux was severely punished for the treachery of its 
 mayor. Having been threatened by the peasants and 
 robbed by the butchers, the hapless citizens were, now 
 compelled to see their houses set on fire by the angry 
 nobles, who were willing to destroy this town, which in- 
 stead of affording them a refuge, had so nearly proved 
 fatal to them. Men-at-arms rode through the streets 
 casting lighted brands into the dwellings, and cutting 
 down all whom they met with arms in their hands. 
 Women and children rushed from their burning homes 
 wringing their hands, and calling for aid upon their patron 
 saints, only to be trampled down by the riders, who 
 heeded not the shrieks of those who were crushed be- 
 neath their chargers' feet. 
 
 While the battle was raging before the great market, 
 the butchers had gorged themselves with plunder, and 
 many of them were slain as they attempted to escape 
 laden with their booty. Pierre Gilles also had gathered 
 a rich harvest, for Antoine Soulas had guided him ; and 
 while the fate of Callet's army was still undecided, the 
 two wretches had returned to the mayor's house to divide 
 the spoil. As they entered the room where Soulas con- 
 cealed his wealth, each carried a heavy bag which he 
 placed upon the floor. This room had but one door 
 which was strongly barred, and secured by a large bolt 
 as well as by a strong lock, A window opening into a 
 court admitted light, but as it was covered with thick 
 iron bars, the only way of entering the mayor's apartment 
 was by the door, to which he turned after putting down 
 his burden. Having drawn the bolt he attempted to put 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 221 
 
 the key in the lock, but his hand trembled with excite- 
 ment, and he said to his companion. 
 
 " Here, friend Pierre, do you lock the door for my hand 
 shakes as though I had the palsy ; turn the key, good 
 youth, and place it on the shelf." 
 
 Pierre turned the key and pretended to put it on the 
 shelf ; but instead of doing so, thrust it into his pocket 
 unobserved by the mayor, who on his knees beside the 
 bags, was trying to undo their fastenings. Pierre followed 
 his example, and the contents of the sacks were soon 
 spread upon the floor. There was more wealth than 
 Pierre had ever looked upon, and Soulas turned to him, 
 his eyes sparkling with greed as he pointed to the heap 
 of plate and coined money before him. 
 
 " Ha, ha, good youth," and he rubbed his hands to- 
 gether as he spoke, " did I not say I would show you how 
 to gain more in one day than you would in a lifetime of 
 drudgery ? Ho, ho," and he sprang to his feet, leap- 
 ing in the air, clapping his hands and laughing with de- 
 light. " What are you thinking of ? " he went on, observ- 
 ing that his companion was silent and did not reply. 
 
 " I am thinking how we shall escape," replied Pierre, 
 " where we can hide all this, and conceal ourselves until 
 we can make our way to Paris ; for I suppose you will 
 not stay here. Master Mayor ? " 
 
 "No, no," said Soulas, "I will go with you to Paris, 
 and then across the sea ; but first let us divide the treas- 
 ure, and then we will find a place in which to hide it, and 
 ourselves too. Give yourself no concern about that, good 
 youth, for I know a safe place, and we will hasten thither. 
 Ho, ho ! give yourself no concern, I say : I am too old to 
 be caught, and provided a sure hiding-place long ago." 
 
2 22 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 " I am glad of that, master, and you think none can 
 find it ? " asked Pierre. 
 
 " I defy the devil himself to find us when we are once 
 there. So let us to work," and Soulas began to separate 
 the heaps into two parts. This was a task attended with 
 some difficulty, for the articles were of various kinds, and 
 both were ignorant of their exact value ; but after some 
 wrangling, they agreed upon the share each was to receive, 
 though Pierre grumbled and declared that Soulas had 
 retained the most valuable portion for himself. 
 
 " But you should not say that I have deceived you," 
 said the mayor, m reply to his objections ; " and even 
 though I have a gold piece or two the more, you should 
 not grudge them, when, but for me you would have none 
 at all." 
 
 "And how do I know," answered Pierre, suspiciously, 
 "that you will keep your promise, and find a safe hiding- 
 place ? You have cheated me, and now perhaps you 
 mean to betray me: devil take me, if I am not tempted 
 to strangle you, for I have a mind to shift for myself. 
 What are you grinning at, you old robber ? Would you 
 dare play me such a trick, then ? You had best not, 
 unless you want me to wring your neck," he added, with 
 a threatening scowl. 
 
 " What wild words are these ? " returned Soulas. 
 "Betray you, good youth! Why, we are good friends; 
 come, let us have no hard words, and all for the matter of 
 a golden crown or so : surely you would not hurt a poor 
 old man who has only done you good. Surely not, for 
 you are a good youth, a wise youth ! See, Master Pierre, 
 I will be generous, and if you think you have not a fair 
 share, I will give you this costly cup," and he took from 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 223 
 
 his bag a silver chalice that they had stolen from the 
 Abbey church. 
 
 " Tis little enough," said Pierre, ungraciously, thrust- 
 ing it into his bag, " 'tis little enough, and you shall give 
 me more than that, before I quit you ! Now let us leave 
 this place and conceal ourselves." 
 
 "Yes, yes," said the mayor, "we will go, but," laying 
 his hand on his companion's arm, and speaking in his 
 softest tones, " distrust me not. Master Pierre. Oh, no, 
 distrust me not, for we will be good friends, dear friends, 
 and help each other." 
 
 " Are you coming ? " demanded Pierre, roughly. 
 
 "Yes, good youth, yes, but I must first fetch my cloak, 
 for the nights are damp and we shall be out late, perhaps ; 
 and then, I am not so warm of blood as you. Ah ! 'tis a 
 fine thing to be young, and to have life before you — yes, 
 and to have gold to help you enjoy it. Ho, ho ! Pierre, 
 you are a lucky youth. Oh, what fortune for one so young ! 
 while I — think how many years I have toiled and waited : 
 and now I am old, yes, old and feeble, so that I shiver in 
 the night air " 
 
 "Will you never be done talking?" growled Pierre, 
 "hold your tongue, and make haste." 
 
 " I am going," returned Soulas. " O yes, I will make 
 haste, but look you out of the window, for I heard a noise 
 in the court just now, and we must not be seen." 
 
 He then crossed the room, and took down a cloak that 
 hung upon the wall, and if one had observed him 
 closely, he would have seen him feel for something hid- 
 den in the folds of the garment, before again crossing the 
 room, which he did with a swift and noiseless step. 
 Pierre stood at the window staring into the little court, 
 and did not hear the stealthy tread of the mayor, or see 
 
224 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 the malignant look upon his face, as standing close behind 
 him, he withdrew his hand from the cloak. For an 
 instant he stood motionless, crouching like an animal 
 about to spring, then, raising his arm suddenly, he 
 plunged a dagger into Pierre's neck with all his strength, 
 and flinging himself upon the body as it fell heavily to 
 the floor, he struck the dagger again and again into the 
 neck and throat of his victim. 
 
 " Ha, ha ! " he screamed, " I am an old robber, forsooth, 
 and you would strangle me. Ho ! I need not fear the 
 gripe of your fingers on my throat now. Aha! good 
 youth. Ho, ho ! wise youth, you thought to outwit An- 
 toine Soulas ; you thought to strangle him and take all ! 
 why do you not take it then .' why do you not rob the 
 feeble old man ? Ha, ha ! " and he laughed horribly, as 
 he kneeled on the prostrate form, his small green eyes, 
 repulsive mouth, and yellow teeth reminding one of a 
 hyena about to devour his prey. 
 
 He remained in this position for some time, uttering 
 now and then a snarl of rage as he stared into the dead 
 face, struck it with his clenched hand, or grasping the hair, 
 beat the head savagely against the floor ; then rising to 
 his feet, he began to drag the body along until he reached 
 the opposite corner of the room, where he stopped and 
 began to speak. " Listen, good youth," he said, " listen, 
 Pierre Gilles, for we are dear friends and must help each 
 other. You would fain have trusted to yourself alone, 
 wise youth, but you dared not, for you would have been 
 found, and so you trusted me ; ho, ho ! that was well, be- 
 cause I knew of a safe hiding-place where you could lie 
 concealed. Did I not say no one could find you there ? 
 and you believed me not ; but you shall see that I spoke 
 the truth, and you will be quite safe in the hiding-place I 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 225 
 
 made for you. Oh, yes, you will be quite safe there ! Ho, 
 ho ! go, then ! " and lifting a trap-door, he pushed the body 
 through the opening with his foot. The sound of a heavy 
 object plunging into water was heard as Soulas replaced 
 the door, and looked about him with a glance of triumph. 
 As his eye fell upon the bags which still remained near 
 the window, lie laughed. " Aha ! " he cried, " you are 
 both mine now ! " and seizing them, he hugged them in his 
 arms in a transport of delight. " Come," he said, " you 
 shall see your fellows," and he moved toward the con- 
 cealed recess. Again he overturned the image of the 
 Virgin, but so rudely that it lay broken at his feet. 
 Spurning it aside, he opened the secret panel, and began 
 to draw forth the hidden gold, arranging it in little piles 
 upon t"he floor ; then emptying the bags, he threw himself 
 down at full length, and resting his face upon his hands, 
 devoured the treasure with greedy eyes. Thus he re- 
 mained for a long time, like one fascinated ; it seemed as 
 though he "wished to gaze forever at the objects of his 
 adoration, and he heaved a deep sigh as he roused him- 
 self, and began to replace the contents of the bags. But 
 his fingers lingered over this task ; he tested the weight 
 of each golden plate and chalice, he flung about his neck 
 the stolen chains, examined each richly carved drinking- 
 cup ; he even pressed them to his heart and kissed them, 
 before placing them in the waiting sacks. But finally the 
 last article of plate was concealed from view, the last 
 chain and coin deposited in the strong sacks, which he 
 fastened securely, and Soulas rose to his feet, muttering 
 to himself : " It is time for me to fly ; it must be mid-day 
 by now. 'Tis well I provided so sure a place of conceal- 
 ment. All is ready and none will seek us there ; and if 
 they do — ha, ha 1 they will not find me 1 No, no, I am 
 IS 
 
226 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 too old a fox to be caught ! I will be safe until I am ready 
 to cross the sea. Ho, ho ! how well I deceived the silly 
 knave who thought I would share with him ! a good youth 
 — a brave youth — a wise youth ; and he believed me. 
 Ho, ho, ho ! the silly fool ! " Thus he talked to himself 
 in broken and disconnected fashion, stopping now and 
 then to laugh and rub his hands in glee. As he raised 
 his eyes, however, he observed a dark shadow creeping 
 over the wall before which he had knelt so long. " What 
 is that ? " he murmured. " Surely it is not past mid-day !" 
 But in truth while he was lingering, lost in a golden 
 dream, the day had waned and evening was close at hand. 
 Engrossed in his one aim of enriching himself, elated 
 at having ridded himself so easily of Pierre Gilles, and at 
 having thus obtained the whole of the stolen treasure, 
 the mayor had not given a thought to the result of the 
 morning's battle, and was ignorant of the defeat of the 
 peasants. It is true that he was perfectly indifferent as 
 to who were the victors, so that he made his escape in 
 safety; but he began to realize the necessity of doing this 
 at once, and made haste to complete his preparations for 
 flight. He .picked up his cloak and wrapped it around 
 him, unmindful of the fresh stains of blood upon it. He 
 thrust some papers in his breast, and looked about the 
 floor until he found the dagger with which he had stabbed 
 Pierre, wiped it carefully and placed it in his belt. He 
 then sought some means of concealing the gold he must 
 carry away, for the bags were too heavy to be attached to 
 his belt, and he dared not take them openly in his hands. 
 At last he secured them about his waist by means of a 
 stout cord, and the ample folds of his cloak hid them from 
 view; but he was scarcely able to walk, and staggered to 
 the door bent almost double under his load. Drawing 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 227 
 
 back the bolt, he was surprised to find that the door re- 
 sisted his efforts to open it, and suddenly remembering 
 that Pierre had locked it at his bidding, turned to the 
 shelf to fetch the key. But the key was not to be found. 
 It was in vain that he searched the shelf, in vain that he 
 examined his clothes and looked in every corner, feeling 
 about the floor with his hands, and growing more impa- 
 tient every moment, as the light faded and night drew on. 
 At length he sat down and tried to recall everything that 
 had occurred since he entered the room. He forced him- 
 self to think, but could not remember having seen the key 
 since he had placed it in Pierre's hand. Suddenly the truth 
 burst upon him, and he sprang to his feet with the cold 
 sweat starting from his face in great drops, for he found 
 himself entrapped, locked in this room from which it was 
 so necessary for him to escape at once. " The cunning 
 knave," he cried, " hid the key about his person, and he 
 is — gone. Ah 1 I am caught — but yet the window. Hell 
 and confusion ! I can never wrench off those iron bars, 
 and time presses ; already it is dark, and I should have 
 been far away ere now. If any one discovers me here, 
 and sees these bloody stains I am surely lost. I must not 
 be found," and he hurried to the window. As he reached 
 it, Soulas was terrified at the sight of a sheet of flame 
 that filled the court without ; for the conflagration in the 
 city had reached this house which was burning over his 
 head, the buildings that surrounded the court were in a 
 blaze, and he saw his only way of escape cut off by a sea 
 of fire, that roared and stretched out its flaming arms as 
 if to seize him. He grasped the iron bars and shook 
 them with the strength of a madman,. but they held fast, 
 while the darting flames hissed mockingly, and crept 
 nearer. The room grew hot, for the air that came through 
 
228 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 the window was now like the breath of a furnace, and 
 Soulas drew back from the iron bars which soon became 
 red hot. Already he had clung to them until his hands 
 were scorched, the hot iron had burned deep into the flesh, 
 but he gave no heed to the pain, nor did he feel it, as, ex- 
 hausted by the violence of his struggle, he sank upon the 
 floor and glared wildly about. " Is there no way then, 
 no way ? " he groaned, and dragging himself to his feet 
 he reached the door which he shook with the energy of 
 despair. He shouted aloud, he screamed, he beat his 
 hands and feet against the door : he who had been so 
 fearful of discovery a few moments before, would now 
 nave welcomed his deadliest enemy, so he would have 
 given him leave to stand an instant in the open air, and 
 breathe. But there was no reply, no footstep sounded, 
 no answering shout came to his straining ear. He tore 
 off the cord that fastened the bags to his waist, he rushed 
 about the room shrieking aloud and wringing his hands 
 until, gasping for breath and fainting with despair, he fell 
 upon the floor groaning and murmuring to himself in 
 broken words : " Ah ! cursed Pierre, thrice accursed 
 youth ! Ah ! fool, fool ! to be thus ensnared," and then 
 drawing himself painfully along, crawling, his hands slip- 
 ping in the blood of his victim, he succeeded in dragging 
 himself to the spot where he had flung down his gold, and 
 a ghastly smile crossed his face, as he threw his arms 
 around the sacks, embracing them in his feeble grasp and 
 whispering: " O gold, bright gold, I love you. Save me, 
 save me ! my precious gold ; save me from this hell ! 
 Ah ! I burn ! I burn ! but I have you, even in hell ! " and 
 with his arms fast clasped about the wealth which he 
 sought to retain even in death, Antoine Soulas at last lay 
 motionless, but with wide open eyes still staring at the 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 22g 
 
 red flames that seethed and roared and hissed in mock- 
 ery, until they burst into the room, and a thousand fiery 
 tongues licked up his gold, and danced in scorn around 
 him. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 The news of the peasants' defeat spread like wildfire to 
 the gates of Paris. Fugitive after fugitive arrived, bring- 
 ing tidings of the fate of the Jacquiers and of the capture of 
 Guillaume Callet, who had fallen into the hands of the king 
 of Navarre as he sought to escape from the field where 
 Jacques and the greater part of his companions had per- 
 ished. Of the unruly mob that had followed Pierre Gilles, 
 only a few returned to hide themselves in the obscurity of 
 their own parish ; and the priests of St. Jacques were be- 
 sieged for many a day, by widows who came to have 
 masses said for the souls of their husbands. 
 
 The Trades that had clung to the Provost and upheld 
 his authority, began to murmur as the Dauphin cut off the 
 city's supplies from the south and east, while bands of 
 adventurers harried the isle of France, and intercepted 
 the provisions brought from the north. Without money 
 and without bread, the people cried out that they were 
 starving, and demanded that their Provost should give 
 them food, or lead them out against the Navarrese who 
 were ravaging the country. Yielding to their clamors he 
 gave them permission to go, but the undisciplined rab- 
 ble fell into the snares laid for them by those trained 
 marauders, and suffered the penalty of their rashness. 
 Enraged at their ill success, they exclaimed that they 
 had been betrayed, and the Provost saw himself in immi- 
 nent danger of falling a victim to those who had been his 
 firmest friends. In this precarious situation, he sent 
 
 230 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 23 1 
 
 again and again to the king of Navarre, urging him to 
 advance, and promising to deliver up the city to him ; but 
 the king pleaded his need of money as an excuse for not 
 complying with his request, and eagerly received the 
 large sums which the Provost sent to him, while at the 
 same time he carried on negotiations with his cousin the 
 Dauphin, and deceived Marcel with plausible reasons for 
 delay. 
 
 Count Guy had returned long since from Coucy, and 
 had joined in the search made for Jeanne Mailla;rt, but 
 all efforts to discover her had been unsuccessful. 
 
 Pierre Gilles had disappeared also, and no trace of him 
 could be found, but one of his friends who pitied the dis- 
 tress of the good wine-merchant, assured him that it was 
 impossible that Pierre could have carried Jeanne away 
 with him, for he had seen him depart alone. They 
 concluded therefore, that she was concealed in Paris, 
 and redoubled their efforts to find her, taking some 
 comfort in the thought that Pierre had perhaps lost his 
 life in Meux. Could Maillart have known the fate of his 
 former servant, he would doubtless have rejoiced ; but 
 unhappily he was ignorant of the punishment that had 
 overtaken the vindictive youth, and for aught he knew his 
 daughter might still be in his power. * 
 
 As time wore on, however, he was forced to admit that 
 further search was useless, and he gave up all hope of re- 
 covering the child so dear to him ; nor could the vicomte 
 d'Ervand induce him to believe in the final success of 
 efforts that had up to this time proved utterly unavailing. 
 But the vicomte with the hopefulness of youth, declared 
 that Jeanne could and should be found, and he employed 
 all his energy in endeavoring to discover her hiding-place, 
 and in truth he devoted himself to this object with the 
 
232 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 more earnestness, as since leaving Maillart's house, he 
 found it impossible to banish from his mind the memory 
 of the pretty maiden, whose bright face and deft fingers 
 had charmed away his ill humor and his pain. As he 
 sat with count Guy, in his apartment at the Cerf 
 Blanc, he confessed to his friend that the thought of never 
 seeing Jeanne again caused him the greatest unhappiness, 
 and vowed that he would yet discover her and make her 
 his wife. 
 
 " If I can win her consent, my dear Guy," he said, "I 
 shall be the happiest man in France." 
 
 " But, have you forgotten that she is only a merchant's 
 daughter?" asked Guy. 
 
 " No, but I care not — I tell you that it shall be no bar- 
 rier." 
 
 " Yet were she of gentle blood — " 
 
 " I swear to you, Guy," interrupted the vicomte, that 
 I love her, and will wed Jeanne Maillart. She shall bear 
 my name, and who will dare question the nobility of a 
 d'Ervand ! " 
 
 " I doubt not that she will do honor to your name," re- 
 turned Guy. " She is a charming girl. But we forget 
 that she is — we know not where. I fear that we will never 
 find her, Vicomte — and j'et something may still be done : 
 the worthy Maillart is so wretched. Have you marked 
 his haggard look ? and then, since you are unhappy too — 
 Good faith ! I realized it not before, but I can under- 
 stand — " and Guy grasped his companion's hand as he 
 spoke. " Yes, for if I should lose Yolande, I know — 
 By heaven ! you must have thought me cold, my dear 
 Henri, but trust me I knew not that you were so in earn- 
 est — that you thought of Mistress Jeanne as I do of 
 Yolande. Truly this love draws us closer to each other, 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 233 
 
 and being lovers we are dearer comrades. Come, we 
 must follow this chase in company. May Heaven send 
 good fortune ! " and Guy finished his somewhat incoher- 
 ent speech with a smile, and a closer pressure of the 
 vicomte's hand, which he still held in his own. 
 
 Leaving the two friends to exchange their confidences, 
 let us enter the kitchen of the inn where Robert Bonel is 
 seated with Lanard. A jug of wine stood on the table 
 between them, and a jovial smile overspread the inn- 
 keeper's face as he slowly poured out the liquor, watch- 
 ing the foaming bubbles that chased each other in minia- 
 ture eddies about the cups. 
 
 "Drink," he said, " drink, friend Lanard, this is rare 
 good wine, though 'tis I who say so," and he took a deep 
 draught to emphasize his words. 
 
 Lanard raised his cup to his lips, saying : " To the 
 black eyes of mistress Susanne, Robert." 
 
 " Here, Susanne," cried Bonel, " come hither and drink 
 the health of master Lanard ! " 
 
 " Willingly," said she, coming forward, " and I am sure 
 the Cerf Blanc has been far pleasanter since he came, 
 and sorry shall we be to have him go away." 
 
 " Why, so we will," exclaimed Bonel, " here, Susanne, 
 drink you out of my cup," and putting his arm around the 
 waist of his smiling wife, he drew her upon his knee. 
 
 Lanard touched his cup to hers, and gallantly saluted 
 his pretty hostess as she drank to him. " Truly " said he, 
 " when I see you so happy, Robert, I have a mind to turn 
 innkeeper myself ! " 
 
 Bonel shook his head as he replied, " 'Tis no such 
 happy life neither, when the streets are full of wandering 
 soldiers who pay their reckoning with a scowl and an 
 oath, travellers who pay one in outlandish coin, and 
 
234 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 hungry students who never pay, but when they have filled 
 their stomachs, swear they have not a denUr, and laugh 
 in your face. The best of all are the merchants, for they 
 like not to be cheated themselves, and are willing to 
 settle their scores. But since these evil times began, 
 friend Lanard, 'tis an ill life and without gain. Blessed 
 Virgin ! Susanne can tell you how hard it is to buy 
 poultry and bread for your lord's table, and it grows 
 worse every day." 
 
 Susanne nodded. " Yes " said she, " we shall soon 
 have to live on fish and water, for there is nothing else to 
 be bought in the market." 
 
 " Then we will keep Lent in August," returned Lanard 
 laughing, " but let us hope it will not come to that, for I 
 have no mind to fast more than once in the year, 
 and pity it would be. Mistress Susanne, to see your red 
 cheeks grow pale with hunger. But speaking of hunger 
 reminds me of the lean and hungry wretches in la Cite ; 
 'tis horrible to see them fighting like wolves over the 
 bones in the streets, and ready to stab one another for a 
 mouldy crust ! Their good Provost had best look to 
 himself, friend Robert, for these starvelings begin to 
 growl, and if he does not soon give them bread, they will 
 eat him bones and all." 
 
 "And little harm if they should," grumbled Robert; 
 then, speaking to His wife he said, " Get you gone, 
 Susanne, and look after the supper. What ! would you sit 
 all day on my knee and neglect the house .' By the saints, I 
 be no cushioned settle, and my bones be not made of 
 wood neither, so please you ! " 
 
 " You were glad enough once to have me sit on your 
 knee," returned Susanne with a pout. 
 
 " And so I am still, wench, but you are no feather, and 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 235 
 
 the supper must be looked to ; so away with you ! but you 
 may give me a kiss before you go, if you like." 
 
 " Give you a kiss, indeed ! " rejoined she, as she dis- 
 appeared with an offended air. 
 
 Robert drew himself up with conscious dignity, and 
 turning to his companion said : " When you have a wife, 
 friend Lanard, there is one thing you must teach her first 
 of all, or it will be worse for you." 
 
 " And what is it ? " asked Lanard, laughing. 
 
 " 'Tis to obey you," replied Robert. 
 
 " I should think that would be wise, but is it not hard 
 to do ? " 
 
 Bonel pointed his finger at his companion and an- 
 swered very gravely. " Hard ? " said he, " why no, so 
 you go the right way about it, as I did, and now Susanne 
 knows that I am the master, and when I say to her go 
 and attend to the supper, she does not stop to ask why ; 
 it is enough that I wish it, and there lies the great secret, 
 comrade : so remember to teach your wife to ask no 
 questions, for if you once begin to reason with her, Holy 
 Virgin ! Oh, Holy Virgin ! " 
 
 " And what then ? " demanded Lanard much amused. 
 
 Robert cast a pitying glance at him. " 'Tis plain you 
 know little about the matter," said he, " but a woman's 
 tongue once loosened runs faster than a mountain tor- 
 rent." 
 
 " But there must be some way to stop it, friend Robert, 
 and faith, you should be able to tell, you who know so 
 much about it." 
 
 " Why," rejoined Bonel, " to confess the truth, comrade, 
 I never could find any way myself, and I doubt if it can 
 be done, and so I warn you. But take my advice, and 
 when you marry get a firm hold of the reins, for " he con- 
 
236 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 tinued solemnly, " when a woman once takes the bit in 
 her teeth she is the devil." 
 
 Lanard laughed and thanked him for his warning, 
 which he promised to remember when he selected a wife. 
 He was, however, much inclined to doubt whether Susanna 
 had been so thoroughly subdued as Robert would have 
 had him believe, and the sight of her dress, as she crossed 
 the street and entered the house of a neighbor, confirmed 
 him in the belief that this model of obedience was quite 
 capable of disobeying her husband's commands when she 
 chose to do so. But after all is said, half the joy of life 
 is in the facility with which we suffer ourselves to be 
 deluded, and perhaps some such thought crossed Lanard's 
 mind as he watched the self-satisfied expression on 
 Robert's face, and decided that it would be a pity to dis- 
 turb it by telling him that Susanne was at that moment 
 gossiping with a neighbor, instead of making preparations 
 for supper. He remained silent therefore, looking at 
 Robert, who, having relieved his mind by asserting that he 
 was master in his own house, was lolling on his seat, his 
 feet crossed and his ej^es half closed, as though the enjoy- 
 ment of the moment was his only care, and the world 
 might wag as it would. But he presently opened his eyes 
 and blinked hard at his companion. " Holy Virgin !" 
 said he, stretching his arms with a prodigious yawn, " here 
 we sit as silent as two owls; v/hat ails you, Lanard, that 
 you sit with your tongue between your teeth? " 
 
 "Would you have me talk to the wall?" retorted he. 
 " Faith, when you fall asleep before my very face, how am 
 I to talk to you ? " 
 
 " Oh, I was not asleep," said Robert, " but this hot 
 afternoon makes one drowsy, comrade.'' 
 
 " Yes, that is true, and this is no bad place to sit and 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 237 
 
 nod in, of a hot day. How long have you been here, 
 Robert ? how long have you been master of this snug 
 inn ? " 
 
 "A matter of ten years, friend Larnard, or mayhap 
 twelve, for I took it first before the battle of Cr^cy. By 
 the saints ! I remember well how I raged when I heard 
 that war had broken out, and I had not followed my lord, 
 the marquis ; for I was younger then and loved to hear 
 the clash of swords." 
 
 " You would have heard enough of that music if you 
 had been at Crdcy, Robert." 
 
 " Yes, yes," replied he, slowly, " and I say not that I 
 care now ; but then I was as restive as a young horse and 
 cursed the inn, and all beside that hindered me from 
 striking a blow against the English. May they be 
 damned forever, those outlandish thieves, who have been 
 worse than the blight and the mildew, bloody vampires 
 that they are ! " 
 
 " You are right, Robert, and I wish the earth would 
 open and swallow them ; but let us have patience and 
 God will punish them." 
 
 " Patience 1 " cried Robert, " and while we wait, they 
 trample down our harvests and devour the land : yes, and 
 who knows, when the truce is over, but they will send a 
 fresh swarm of their beef-eating devils to torment us." 
 
 " Like enough," returned Lanard, " but if war breaks 
 out you must turn man-at-arms again, ha, Robert ? " 
 
 " That I will, I have not yet forgotten how to handle 
 spear and sword, and 'tis the only life to lead in these 
 days : the holiest saint of them all would gird sword and 
 dagger to his side and wear an iron coat, if he lived now 
 on the earth, yes, and rob and kill his neighbor like the 
 rest." 
 
238 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 " 'Tis not yet so bad," said Lanard, laughing. " There 
 is your lord marquis, he would not rob and kill his neigh- 
 bor, Robert." 
 
 " No, no, devil take me, I said not so ! and God forbid 
 that all should be so wicked, but my lord marquis is more 
 kind and generous than most, and lucky is he who serves 
 him. His brother was a brave nobleman, too ; a sad day 
 it was when his lady died," he added musingly. 
 
 " Why, we must all die at last," said Lanard, " and 
 besides — " 
 
 "Yes," interrupted Robert, "but when one dies of 
 grief you know — Hold ! I will e'en tell you about it, but 
 first fill up your cup. You are no such drinker as Rolin. 
 Faith, his cup is no sooner empty than he fills it again, 
 and 'tis dry as my hand in a twinkling." 
 
 " Yes, these students are merry drinkers, Robert, but 
 what is this about the brother of the marquis de la 
 Rivifere ? " 
 
 " Why, you must know," rejoined Bonel, " that he 
 was a handsome nobleman and spoke fair words to all, 
 so that he was much beloved ; and faith, comrade, he 
 was such a man as one would blithely put his life in 
 peril for, if he but smiled on him. Well, there was a 
 pretty maiden, the daughter of a peasant woman named 
 Blanche, and he had ever a smile for her, and when he 
 passed her mother's cottage and saw the girl standing at 
 the door, he would often stop, and mayhap he would tell 
 her that her cheeks were like the wild roses in the wood, 
 and snatch a kiss from her lips and go his way leaving a 
 piece of gold in her hand. And I know not what foolish 
 dreams filled the girl's head, but when my lord no longer 
 passed the cottage door, and she heard that he was 
 wedded to a fair and noble lady, she drooped her head 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 239 
 
 and seemed like one distraught, until one night her mother 
 missed her, and they found her body in a deep pool within 
 the forest. Blanche did nothing but weep and moan, and 
 cry out that the wicked lord (as she called the brother of 
 my lord marquis) had killed her child, until she grew 
 crazed, and her gossips said she went about whispering to 
 herself that she would be revenged ; but they paid no 
 heed, and only laughed when she fell into one of her 
 wild fits. But they laughed no longer, comrade, when they 
 found that she had the evil eye, and some of their chil- 
 dren who played near the cottage door fell sick. Two of 
 them died, and the others would answer naught but that 
 Blanche had looked at them. I remember well, for I was 
 a stout youth at the time, that I would run a mile about, 
 rather than follow the path that ran past her hut, and we 
 all feared to meet her lest she should curse us with a look. 
 So she lived alone, until the little daughter born to my 
 lady countess was mayhap a year old : then one day the 
 child was lost, and Blanche disappeared. The country 
 was searched far and wide, but the child was never found, 
 and my lady countess died of grief when she heard that 
 her infant had been stolen away by the woman who had 
 the evil eye, and my lord count was killed at the battle of 
 Crdcy. I know not what brought it to my mind to-night, 
 for it -happened long ago, full eighteen years. Holy Vir- 
 gin, how the time goes ! twelve years come vintage time 
 since I married Susanne, and it seems but yesterday, friend 
 Lanard. Faith of ni^ soul ! what a pretty sight it was to 
 see her that day, with her scarlet petticoat and blue bod- 
 ice laced with silver, a wreath of red berries in her hair, 
 and her eyes sparkling hke the sun ! " 
 
 "I warrant that many a stout lad envied you," said 
 Lanard. 
 
240 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 " That they did, for Susanne was the prettiest girl in all 
 the country side." 
 
 " And so she is still, Robert, and a good wife to you I 
 would swear." 
 
 "Yes," returned Bonel, "that she is," and he looked 
 complacently about the room, whose sanded floor and 
 well scoured dressers bore witness to Susanne's good 
 house-wifery. 
 
 " 'Tis all as neat as wax," said Lanard, following his 
 companion's glance. " Come, Robert, confess you would 
 not exchange all this for an iron hauberk and buff coat, 
 long days in the saddle, the damp ground for a bed and 
 perchance a spear thrust to end all. Trust me, 'tis better 
 to live snugly here in your inn, than to go hungry and 
 thirsty and have your sleep broken by blasts of the trum- 
 pet ! " 
 
 " You speak truth, comrade, and yet I long for the old 
 life sometimes. By the saints ! when I heard how my 
 lord marquis overthrew the peasants before Meux, I 
 wished to be a manat-arms once more, for this lazy life 
 hath not quenched all my spirit yet. Zounds ! I could 
 strike you a stout blow once ! " 
 
 " I believe you, and beshrew me if you have forgotten 
 your skill," replied Lanard laughing as he spoke, for 
 Bonel had got upon his feet and was thrusting his arms 
 about as though they had been weapons ; but in his 
 excitement, he fetched his companion such a buffet on the 
 head as nearly knocked him from his jpat. 
 
 " The devil ! " exclaimed Lanard, " you have a heavy 
 hand, you have well-nigh broken my crown." 
 
 A look of comical distress overspread Robert's face. 
 " Holy Virgin ! " said he, " what have I done ? " 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 24I 
 
 " A trifle, a mere bruise," replied Lanard, rubbing his 
 head. 
 
 " But I have hurt you, comrade. Forgive me." 
 
 " 'Tis nothing, Robert, I am well used to hard knocks. 
 Sit down, man, fill me a cup of wine, and tell me whether 
 you have heard news of Pierre Gilles." 
 
 " Never a word. Some say he is dead. I hope he 
 is. Had you but seen him ready to march, you would 
 have died of laughter. Ha, ha ! a fine sight it was to 
 see him strutting about the quay, for all the world like 
 an ape with a kitchen skillet on his head. Ho, ho ! and 
 a sword that got between his legs at every step. But 
 if he be alive he had best not show his face in Paris, 
 for there be swords here ready to take his life." 
 
 " He is too base to die by a brave man's sword," said 
 Lanard contemptuously ; " a hempen cord befits such 
 knaves as he. And none have seen master Maillart's 
 daughter, and we have searched the city through ; 'tis 
 strange enough. My lord d'Ervand takes her loss much 
 to heart. Ha, Robert ? " 
 
 "Yes," answered he with a nod of his head. " In faith, 
 one would think she was his sister, so anxious is he 
 to find her. He takes no pleasure in anything now, 
 and never laughs ; such a merry gentleman as he was 
 too. Holy Virgin 1 'tis a great pity to see him so 
 changed ! but I know what would cheer him up. Ha, 
 ha ! comrade." 
 
 "And what then ? " asked Lanard. 
 
 " Why," rejoined Robert, winking mysteriously, and 
 
 wagging his head from side to side : " 'tis not for me to 
 
 say, but I know what I know. Ha, ha ! you understand 
 
 me, comrade ? " 
 
 They were at this moment interrupted by Rolin, who, 
 
 16 
 
242 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 his cap on one side, his dress in disorder, and breathless 
 with running, burst into the room where he sank down 
 upon a bench unable to speak, but motioning with his 
 hands to the wine jug on the table. Bonel stared at him 
 in astonishment, but Lanard seized the jug and poured 
 out a cup of wine, which the student swallowed at a gulp 
 gasping out, " I have found her ! I have found her ! " 
 
 " Who ? What mean you ? " cried both together. 
 
 " Give me time to get my breath and I will tell you," 
 said Rolin, holding out his cup for more wine : then 
 finding his voice, he went on. " Why, master Maillart's 
 daughter to be sure, who else ? But where is the count 
 de la Roche ? I must see him instantly ! " 
 
 " He is yonder in his chamber with my lord vicomte," 
 replied Robert, " but tell us before you go." 
 
 " You shall hear anon ! " shouted Rolin, who was 
 already half way up the stairs, where he entered the 
 count's apartment without ceremony, and flinging his 
 cap in the air cried out that he had seen Jeanne Mail- 
 lart. As soon as he had recovered from his excitement, 
 he began to tell in his own fashion how he had stumbled 
 upon her hiding-place. 
 
 " I was taking a long walk," he said, " and because I 
 have been neglecting my studies of late, I was beating 
 my brains to find an answer to an argument propounded 
 in our last lecture, and I walked on perplexing my mind 
 with that question, and giving no heed to my steps, 
 until all at once I saw how I could solve the difficulty 
 by a counter argument. So I gave a great shout, my 
 lords, whirling my stick over my head (for 'tis a way 
 I have when I am excited), and bringing it down with all 
 my strength, thinking that so would I dash to pieces the 
 false philosophy ; but my stick fell on a rock, and there 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 243 
 
 was I face to face with a high stone wall. I stood 
 laughing to myself, and wondering how I could have 
 come so close to a thing without seeing it, and wish- 
 ing I could just take a look into the garden, when 
 suddenly a white scarf was pushed through a crev- 
 ice in the wall some distance from me. By St. Gene- 
 vifeve ! that surprised me, and all my fine arguments 
 flew out of my head faster than birds from their cover ! 
 but it took only an instant for me to reach the place and 
 recognize the voice of master Maillart's daughter, who 
 begged me to hasten to her father and tell him that she 
 was alive and well." 
 
 " Have you seen him ? " asked Guy. 
 " No, my lord, for mistress Jeanne told me that which 
 brought me back in haste to seek you." 
 
 " Speak quickly then, good Rolin." 
 
 " I will, my lord. In the first place mistress Jeanne is 
 in the hands of the king of Navarre, and it was the 
 baron de Roye who fetched her away from the Provost's 
 house where Pierre Gilles carried her; they have 
 treated her kindly although they hold her prisoner, she 
 knows not why. But the most important thing is that 
 the Provost has at last betrayed the city, and means to 
 give it up to the king of Navarre this very night." 
 
 " How say you ! " cried Guy. 
 
 " 'Tis true, my lord." 
 
 " But, good Rolin, how could she tell thee this ? how 
 could she know ? " 
 
 " The devil fly away with me if I can say, my lord ! 
 and she had no time to explain for she was watched, 
 but she begged me to warn you, and here T am." 
 
 " Well, be her warning true or false, it shall be my 
 task to foil the treacherous Provost, and thou," said 
 
244 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 Guy, turning to the vicomte, " must undertake to rescue 
 mistress Jeanne. Rolin will guide thee." 
 
 The vicomte looked perplexed. " By Heaven 1 " he 
 exclaimed, " I know not what to do, for although I have 
 sworn to restore Jeanne to her father, yet since danger 
 threatens, I am bound in friendship, Guy, to stand side 
 by side with thee to-night, and so, say no more about my 
 leaving thee. Perhaps to-morrow." 
 
 Guy drew his friend aside, and whispered a few words 
 which appeared to convince him of the urgent necessity 
 of seeking Jeanne at once, for after a feeble protest he 
 yielded to Guy's persuasion, his brow cleared, and he 
 began to make preparations for his departure. Bidding 
 Lanard choose some eight or ten men-at-arms to 
 follow him, he asked Rolin whether he would accom- 
 pany him. But he declared that the vicomte could 
 not miss the road, that he would be of no assistance, and 
 that the count would probably require his services. 
 
 "You are right, Rohn," said d'Ervand. "Stay with 
 the count, my good fellow. I would it were not needful 
 for me to quit Paris to-night. Ah ! here is Lanard say- 
 ing that my men are on horseback. Adieu, Guy. I shall 
 join you ere morning." 
 
 "Adieu, HenrL Bring mistress Jeanne back. Fortune 
 attend thee." 
 
 The vicomte hurried away and Guy turned to Lanard 
 and the student who remained in the room. " Do you 
 know," he said, smiling, "that to-morrow will look 
 upon us dead, unless we make ourselves masters of the 
 gates of Paris to-night ? " 
 
 " It may well be, my lord," rejoined Lanard unconcern- 
 edly, " for many things may happen in a night and who 
 was ever sure of to-morrow?" 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 245 
 
 The Student twisted his beard and looked thoughtfully 
 on the ground. " This devil of a Provost," said he, 
 slowly, "would give me a short shrift did he know what 
 I have been about ! " 
 
 " And do you regret it ? " asked the count, casting a 
 scrutinizing look upon him. 
 
 " Not I," exclaimed Rolin, " I am for the king and the 
 Dauphin to the death ! Nevertheless I confess that I have 
 no taste for the halter of hemps which the worshipful 
 Provost will provide for my entertainment, if he lays 
 hands on me. Yet fear not for me, my lord. By my soul, 
 I will stand fast by you, and if we come alive out of this 
 cursed afiEair, I ask no other reward than that you give me 
 a few lessons in swordsmanship." 
 
 " With all my heart," said Guy good-humoredly, " and 
 there is my hand upon it. Now go you both down and 
 bid Robert give you some supper. Do you, Lanard, 
 despatch a messenger to master Maillart, and desire him 
 to come hither instantly, for he must learn what has be- 
 fallen his daughter. When he arrives, you will all come 
 to my chamber, and I will show you the work we have to 
 do. Away with you, the sun is setting, it will be dusk in 
 half an hour." 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 The neglected mansion where Jeanne Maillart had been 
 so securely hidden was shunned by all who knew the evil 
 traditions in regard to it. But this did not prevent the 
 baron de Roye from occupying it sometimes. And upon 
 the eve of the attempt which his lord the king of Navarre 
 was about to make upon Paris, he had come hither to see 
 Jeanne. Leaving the men-at-arms who had attended 
 him, in the lower hall, he went slowly up the stairway, 
 and entering a room, threw himself upon a seat. He was 
 followed by his personal attendant, Martin, who, standing 
 behind his master, waited in perfect silence until the 
 baron should choose to speak. For some moments, how- 
 ever, de Roye remained motionless, staring at the fire, 
 which, although it was scarce past midsummer, burned 
 upon the hearth, and was in truth necessary to remove the 
 chill from this damp and gloomy apartment. 
 
 Finally, he rose and began to pace restlessly to and fro ; 
 a sudden memory oppressed his mind. " Ha," he mut- 
 tered, " it was an evil omen ! Martin," cried he, abruptly, 
 " come hither, tell me, had'st ever a hideous dream that 
 came not true .' " 
 
 " Yes, noble lord," replied the man. " I dreamed before 
 the battle of Poitiers that I was lying on the ground with 
 an English arrow in my heart." 
 
 " And you are here alive ! then perchance my dream was 
 false ! listen, Martin. Last night I fell asleep, and roe- 
 thought I saw myself stretched dead upon the floor, and 
 
 246 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 247 
 
 the blood flowed forth from a gaping wound into a red 
 pool beside me." 
 
 " 'Tis a soldier's death, my lord," said Martin. 
 
 "Yes, yes, I know, but then, that was not all ; for in 
 my dream I saw my soul hovering over my body, as 
 though it knew not whether to go this way or that, and 
 an angel came and looked upon it, and turned his face 
 aside, and vanished, while the soul remained, and I heard 
 it bewailing its hard fate, and ever murmuring : ' Now am 
 I an outcast, for I may not return to my body, and alas, 
 Heaven rejects me ! whither then shall I go, unhappy that 
 I am ! ' and while it was wailing thus, the Fiend came 
 shrieking, ' You are mine ! come with me,' and he laughed 
 horribly, mocking my hapless soul as he bore it away" 
 
 " It was a fearful dream, my lord," said Martin crossing 
 himself, and adding, hesitatingly, "Think not on it, for 
 'tis ill brooding over such things : belike 'tis this gloomy 
 house." 
 
 " Yes," rejoined the baron, " the place is dismal as the 
 grave. We will leave it to-night, and, by St. Peter! it is 
 almost time for us to be on our way. Do you wait for me 
 in the hall." 
 
 He left the room, and a few moments later entered 
 Jeanne Maillart's apartment. She was surprised and not 
 a little alarmed at his sudden appearance, for he had not 
 before intruded upon her privacy, and her first thought 
 was that her interview with Rolin had been discovered. 
 But the respectful manner in which the baron addressed 
 her proved that her alarm was groundless ; and in fact he 
 came for the purpose of telling Jeanne his reasons for 
 carrying her away from the Provost's house. His curiosity 
 had been aroused by finding the locket she had lost, and 
 after seeing that it contained the portrait of the countess, 
 
248 BEFORE THE DAWN, 
 
 and the arms of the house of de la Rivifere, he determined 
 to discover how the trinket came to be in her possession. 
 With this object in view, he induced the king of Navarre 
 to go with him to the solitary abode of mad Blanche, a 
 part of whose story he knew before, and, although what 
 the king had skilfully coaxed her to relate, was wild and 
 almost unintelligible, the baron's knowledge of the events 
 that had really taken place enabled him to understand it 
 readily enough, and he had little doubt that Jeanne was 
 not the child of the worthy Maillart, but the niece of the 
 marquis de la Rivifere and heiress of the estates of his 
 brother. Assuming as mild a demeanor as he could, he 
 told her what he believed to be the truth in regard to her 
 birth, assuring her that she had been removed from the 
 Provost's house and forcibly detained, to protect the 
 daughter of a noble from the danger of falling again into 
 the hands of a villain like Pierre Gilles ; and declaring 
 that the king of Navarre had in his possession, or could 
 procure all the proofs necessary to establish her right and 
 claim. But the incredulous smile with which she listened 
 provoked the baron and he exclaimed : " One would 
 think, fair mistress, that you cared not to learn that you 
 are the daughter of a noble house and not the child of a 
 pitiful merchant ; or perhaps you think I am deceiving 
 you." 
 
 " 'Tis unkind of you, my lord," replied Jeanne, " to 
 make a jest of me. It is true," she continued, with some 
 spirit, " it is true that my father is but a pitiful merchant, 
 yet were he here you had not dared to treat me thus ! " 
 
 " Of what do you complain, fair mistress ? " rejoined 
 the baron. " Do you not live in comfort here, well served, 
 and with liberty to amuse yourself as you list, so )'ou go 
 not beyond the walls, and if you wish for other company 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 249 
 
 than of Catherine here, am I not ready to devote myself 
 to your commands?" and he bowed to her with mock 
 solemnity. 
 
 Jeanne shrank away from him, and her cheek flushed with 
 anger as she replied : " But by what right do you keep me 
 imprisoned here, my lord ? I have done no harm to you, 
 or any one, and it was cruel to take me away from the 
 kind Provost, who would have sent me back to my father's 
 house." 
 
 " Soho, mistress, small thanks you give me for saving 
 you from the hands of Pierre Gilles ! but perhaps you 
 went willingly enough with him, and cared not to return 
 at all," and a slight sneer curled the baron's lip as he 
 spoke. 
 
 Jeanne's eyes flashed, and she stamped her foot upon 
 the floor. " I hate him 1 " she exclaimed, " and you, — I 
 hate you too, for you are a wicked man to speak so to 
 me!" 
 
 " Gently, gently," rejoined the baron, laughing. " Do 
 not fly into a rage, though by my faith, it becomes you 
 well. Ha, no wonder the poor youth was bewitched by 
 those bright eyes and glowing cheeks ; and so you loved 
 him not ? " 
 
 But a gesture of repugnance was the only reply he 
 received, and he went on : " Perchance the young 
 vicomte who lay wounded at Master Maillart's house was 
 more fortunate, and you sigh for him. Aha, fair mistress," 
 as Jeanne started, and a deep flush overspread her face, 
 "is it thus ? then, by heaven, you have more to thank me 
 for than you know. Ha, ha, a shrewd guess, upon my 
 word." 
 
 Jeanne made a violent effort to recover her self-control, 
 and answered with as much calmness as she could assume : 
 
250 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 " I should owe you thanks, my lord, if you would let me 
 leave this dismal place. Surely there is no need for me 
 to stay here longer. Oh, I pray you to remember that my 
 mother will mourn for me as dead ! " and she clasped her 
 hands, looking at him with entreating eyes. 
 
 "St. Peter!" the baron muttered under his breath; 
 " that pleading look might move a heart less hard than 
 mine; but the maiden must stay here until I return. 
 Fair mistress," he said aloud, "'tis a pretty attitude, 
 and your eyes plead earnestly, yet must I deny your will ; 
 here you shall stay until the marquis owns you for his 
 niece." 
 
 " Then shall I stay here forever to be mocked by you ! " 
 cried Jeanne. " Oh, you are more hard hearted than the 
 wicked count who killed his lady here so cruelly ! " 
 
 " Truly, I believe I am somewhat hard and stern," re- 
 plied the baron laughing, "but has Agnes, that old gossip, 
 been filling your head with silly tales about this house ? " 
 
 " She is not an old gossip, and they are not silly tales," 
 cried Jeanne indignantly. 
 
 " Well, but why did the wicked count put his lady to 
 death ? " 
 
 " I will not tell you. Why should I, my lord.' You 
 say they are foolish tales." 
 
 " Because I wish to hear," said the baron rudely. 
 " Come, fair mistress, do not refuse because I will not 
 send you back to Paris instantly." 
 
 But she shook her head ; and provoked by her obsti- 
 nacy he exclaimed : " There is no need for you to be so 
 peevish, mistress ; and methinks thou art not over courteous 
 to liken me to the count of Touraine, — for I know the story 
 well enough." 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 251 
 
 "And if you knew it, why did you ask me to tell it 
 you ? " demanded Jeanne. 
 
 " To please myself, and pass away the time ; but come," 
 said the baron with a laugh, " dost truly think I would 
 treat a lady so harshly ? " 
 
 "I do ; you would be as merciless as he if your wife 
 displeased you ! " 
 
 " Ha, ha," laughed the baron. " He who weds thee 
 will have need to pray Heaven for patience." 
 
 " And she who weds thee will quickly repent," retorted 
 Jeanne. 
 
 "By my soul, fair mistress, you are somewhat bold! 
 but let it pass, I like you the better that you are not so 
 craven hearted as I thought." 
 
 " I care not for your liking, my lord, and I hate you 
 with all my heart!" and Jeanne turned her back upon 
 him as she spoke. 
 
 " Well, 'tis all one to me, and I bear no malice for a 
 few sharp words. But what is that ? " said the baron. 
 " Did you not hear the trampling of feet below, fair mis- 
 tress ? what is the meaning of those shouts ? ha, there is 
 clashing of swords. By St. Peter ! yon knaves are ever 
 quarrelling among themselves ! I must go and separate 
 them. Adieu, mistress," and he quitted the apartment 
 hastily. 
 
 Jeanne breathed a deep sigh of relief as he disappeared, 
 and turning to Catherine who had been a silent witness 
 of the scene that had just taken place, she exclaimed : 
 "Oh, how thankful I am that he has gone at last ! Were 
 you frightened, Catherine ? " 
 
 " I was frightened for you, Mistress Jeanne, when you 
 answered the baron so boldly, but I prayed our Lady 
 
252 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 to have you in her keeping. May she be gracious to 
 us ! " 
 
 " We had best pray that she have us in her keeping 
 now," replied Jeanne, " for the noise below grows louder 
 and louder. Oh, Catherine, can it be that he has come ? " 
 
 " That who has come. Mistress Jeanne } " 
 
 "The vicom — Rolin, the student — you know Cath- 
 erine — Oh ! if the baron should take his life, what would 
 become of me? " 
 
 " What is Rolin to you ? and if he does lose his life, you 
 will be no worse off than now. Holy angels preserve 
 us ! what a dreadful din they make down there, with their 
 stamping and cursing and ringing of armor. Hark!" 
 as a heavy fall was heard, " listen to that. Mistress 
 Jeanne." There was a moment of silence, and then the 
 tramp of armed feet was heard upon the stairway and 
 along the corridors. 
 
 " Our Lady forgive me ! " cried Catherine, as a loud 
 knock sounded on the door. " I have forgotten to draw 
 the bolt ! But I will e'en see who knocks, for they can 
 but kill us at worst ; one death is as good as another, but 
 long life is a blessed thing. Holy Lady keep us from 
 sin ! " she ejaculated, as she laid her hand on the lock, 
 and threw open the door, where she was confronted by 
 the vicomte d'Ervand. 
 
 " Where is your mistress ? " demanded he. 
 
 Before she had time to reply, Jeanne darted forward 
 with a cry of joy, and the vicomte, seizing her in his 
 arms, exclaimed : " Ah, Jeanne, thank Heaven I have 
 found you ! now shall you not again escape me, for I 
 swear by heaven that you shall be my wife ! None shall 
 prevent, none shall oppose our love. For you know well 
 that I love you, and if your eyes speak truth — nay, do not 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 253 
 
 shake that wilful head. Your eyes have betrayed the se- 
 cret of your heart, the secret that trembles on your lips. 
 What do I hear — so faint a whisper ? Why, love, thy eyes 
 speak bravely, but what a coward voice ! Courage, 
 sweet one. Ah well, those blushes answer for thee. 
 Come then, dear Jeanne, time flies, and we must begone 
 instantly," and drawing her away, he conducted her to 
 the hall below, followed by the wondering and bewildered 
 Catherine. 
 
 The four attendants of the baron de Roye with their 
 hands fast bound, looked dejected enough as they stood 
 in a corner of the hall, where they were carefully guarded 
 by the vicomte's men-at-arms. As Jeanne entered, her 
 eye fell upon this group standing half concealed in the 
 gloom, and she shuddered as she glanced involuntarily at 
 a motionless form that lay near by. The flame of a torch 
 held by one of the men-at-anns revealed to her the body 
 of the baron de Roye, and it was with horror that she 
 looked for the last time upon that dark face with its 
 frowning brow, and lips half parted in a reckless smile. 
 But the vicomte h'urried her away; and indeed she had 
 no wish to linger, but breathed more freely when she 
 found herself in the open air. Nor did she turn her face 
 for a parting glance at the chateau within whose walls she 
 had spent so weary a time. 
 
 Silently they left this gloomy abode. Silent and des- 
 olate and cold it stood, guarding its guilty secrets, and 
 engulfed in the blackness of the night. 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 As he rode toward Paris, d'Ervand was in far too joy- 
 ful a mood to give a thought to the dismal scene behind. 
 Elated at the success of his exploit, and happy in the con- 
 sciousness of being loved, he forgot the dangers of the 
 road, forgot that he should hurry forward to rejoin his 
 friends, and only remembered that Jeanne rode by his 
 side — only recalled the sweet confession she had whis- 
 pered in the moment of their meeting. " I love thee, I 
 love thee, Henri." 
 
 But whether she was vexed at having been startled 
 into making this confession, or whether she was unable 
 to shake off the depressing influence of the place they 
 had just left, she suddenly became more silent and re- 
 served than seemed consistent with the joyful welcome 
 she had bestowed upon her companion when he appeared 
 at the door of her chamber. And the ladies can best 
 decide whether she acted prudently m replying to the 
 passionate avowals of the vicomte by unintelligible mur- 
 murs, or at most by a slight pressure of the hand when it 
 happened that their horses stepped close together. 
 
 They were approaching Paris when d'Ervand remem- 
 bered that it might not be easy to enter the city at so 
 late an hour, and resolved to make a detour to the right 
 and endeavor to gain an entrance at the gate St. Jacques, 
 instead of that of Nesle which was much nearer, but 
 where he would no doubt be detained and questioned by 
 the Provost's guard. He drew rein for a moment in order 
 
 2S4 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 255 
 
 to explain this change of route to his men, and had just 
 rejoined Jeanne when he heard the tramp of horses on the 
 road over which they had come. This, however, would 
 have caused him no uneasiness, had it not been that 
 upon leaving the chateau where he had found Jeanne, 
 he had imprudently set free the servants of the baron de 
 Roye, and he remembered with some alarm that it was 
 only too probable that they had found companions will- 
 ing to join them in pursuing him. 
 
 He therefore ordered his men to push their horses to 
 speed, and seizing the rein of the animal Jeanne rode, 
 spurred on as fast as possible. But he was soon aware 
 that they were being overtaken, and halting his party he 
 placed Jeanne and Catherine in the centre, and bade his 
 men stand firm and defend themselves should they be at- 
 tacked. He had scarcely time to do this before about 
 twenty-five horsemen dashed up at full speed, and fell 
 furiously upon the little band of men-at-arms. The 
 troopers struggled bravely, but, taken by surprise and out- 
 numbered were quickly beaten down, while d'Ervand, 
 who sought to protect Jeanne and Catherine also, was too 
 busily engaged in warding off the blows which fell fast 
 about them, to heed the assailants who pressed against 
 him in the confusion, and soon found himself unable to 
 wheel his horse. His bridle rein was seized by eager 
 hands, and he was desired to surrender himself. 
 
 It would have been madness to refuse, for his followers 
 were overpowered, and more than one spear was pointed 
 at his breast. It was necessary to submifrwith as good a 
 grace as possible. " I yield me to your leader," he said, 
 " rescue or no rescue, and demand courteous treatment 
 for the lady here under my protection." 
 
 " Granted," replied a voice, and the speaker, pushing 
 
256 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 his horse through the crowd, approached the vicomte. 
 " Sir," he said, " it may be that I have been over hasty in 
 this rude attack. Good faith ! I knew not that there was 
 a lady in your company, or you should have gone your 
 way in peace." 
 
 "How, sir?" replied d'Ervand, "I understand you 
 not." 
 
 " Pardieu, 'tis little wonder ! " exclaimed the other, 
 laughing. " But by your leave, fair sir, since we have met 
 thus I must ask you in courtesy to ride a little way with 
 me, for my lord hath given strict command that none who 
 bear arms may enter Paris this night. So, please you, 
 say to your lady not to fear, for she shall not leave you, 
 and by the faith of a Gascon gentleman, the sword of 
 Roger de Carmain is pledged to defend her." 
 
 He then saluted the vicomte, and drawing his men up 
 in marching order gave the word to advance. After a 
 rapid ride of half an hour they arrived at the bank 
 of the Seine. A large boat was waiting there, and 
 in this the leader of the party embarked with a part of 
 his troop. They were no sooner in the stream, than he 
 seated himself by the side of the vicomte, who instantly 
 inquired why he had been attacked and made prisoner on 
 the king's highway. 
 
 The Gascon laughed. " I think," said he, " that I 
 should rather ask how you could hope to journey unmo- 
 lested in these times, when even the king's road swarms 
 with soldiers and vagabonds ; to say nothing of the gen- 
 tlemen of the Free Companies, and the hired bandits of 
 his Holiness of Avignon ! " 
 
 " True," returned d'Ervand, " and I am more fortunate, 
 I trow, than I deserve, to escape their lances. But tell 
 me, what chance threw you in my path to-night ? " 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 257 
 
 "You will say it was an evil chance at best," rejoined 
 the Gascon, " and truly do I now regret having listened 
 to yonder knaves who begged me to follow you and 
 avenge the death of their lord, the baron de Roye. I 
 know not what fiend persuaded me to meddle with 
 what concerns me not ; for, by my soul, the baron was no 
 friend to me, nor I to him I ween ! No lover of dames 
 was he, and no merry heart like Roger Carmain, who is 
 not ashamed to confess, that 'tis better to be a fool 
 through love, than a savage without. 
 
 ■ Love is the rose of life, 
 Toujours et toujaurs ! ' 
 
 What sayest thou ? " and the voluble Gascon leaned 
 familiarly on the vicomte's shoulder as he spoke. 
 
 " Good faith ! " replied d'Ervand, " you speak like one 
 who would brook no delay in his wooing; but carry a 
 lady's heart as we do a fortress — by assault ! " 
 
 " We Gascons," exclaimed de Carmain, " wear our 
 hearts upon our sleeves, and live merrily, sword in hand. 
 Love laughs at us, and we at him, for — 
 
 ' Love is our lord, as we march through the world 
 With harness on back, and pennons unfurled.' 
 
 But here we are at the land," and leaping lightly to the 
 shore, he courteously assisted Jeanne to disembark, and set 
 forward on foot with those whom chance had so strangely 
 thrown in his path. He warned the vicomte that if his 
 lord the king of Navarre were to hear of the death of the 
 baron de Roye he would be deeply enraged, " for " said 
 he, " the baron was deep in his counsels, and the king is 
 even now expecting him at the chateau whither we are 
 going." He added, however, that it should not be his 
 17 
 
258 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 fault if the secret came to his master's ears. For, impul- 
 sive and warm-hearted, like a true son of the South, he 
 already began to look upon d'Ervand as a friend and 
 good comrade, while he treated Jeanne with a frank ad- 
 miration, which, although somewhat amusing, was per- 
 fectly respectful and by no means disagreeable. And the 
 young vicomte, chagrined though he was at the unlucky 
 result of his adventure, could not help being attracted by 
 the merry jesting humor of de Carraain, who enlivened 
 the way with so many marvellous stories and absurd de- 
 scriptions of his own exploits, that even Jeanne forgot the 
 unpleasant situation in which she was placed, and joined 
 merrily in the laughter provoked by the irrepressible 
 tongue of their new friend. But she began to feel the 
 effects of the excitement she had undergone. An excessive 
 languor crept over her, her elastic steps became weary 
 and uncertain, and she was ere long obliged to lean 
 heavily on the vicomte's arm ; and however pleasant it 
 might have been for him to support the faltering steps of 
 the fair girl, he was nevertheless extremely anxious to 
 reach a place where she would be able to rest. 
 
 It was then with a feeling of relief that he heard 
 Carmain announce that they had reached their destina- 
 tion, and glancing up saw the walls and turrets of a large 
 hotel just before them. Bending down, he whispered a 
 few words of encouragement to Jeanne, and placing his 
 arm tenderly about her, half supported, half carried her 
 as he followed the Gascon through the gate into a court- 
 yard. In the midst of this enclosure a large fire was burn- 
 ing, but probably in order that it might not attract atten- 
 tion from a distance, it had been allowed to die down, and 
 was now a huge mass of glowing embers, whose fitful 
 flashes threw a circle of red light around. About the fire 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 259 
 
 was gathered a group of armed men, some of whom stood 
 leaning on their spears, while others lay on the stone 
 pavement and slept, or sought to snatch a little sleep as 
 best they might on that rude couch. Beyond this group 
 a body of archers stood on guard, and several fully capar- 
 isoned steeds were being led up and down before the en- 
 trance of the hotel. 
 
 The clattering of the horses' feet upon the pavement, 
 the ringing of armor and bursts of hoarse laughter from 
 the soldiers who stood around the fire, the lurid flare 
 of the torches borne by servants who hurried hither 
 and thither, carrying great stoups of wine to the arch- 
 ers and men-at-arms — all was in startling contrast to 
 the darkness and silence through which our friends had 
 come. The Gascon, with more delicacy of feehng than 
 might have been expected from a soldier of fortune 
 placed himself in such a position as to shield Jeanne in 
 some measure from the inquisitive glances thrown upon 
 her, and hurried forward. He exchanged a careless 
 nod and a few words with the captain of the archers, who 
 addressed him by name as he passed, and then with a 
 slight smile waved his hand and motioned him on. 
 
 Mounting a flight of steps to the principal entrance 
 of the hotel, they found themselves in a broad and lofty 
 hall which they traversed hurriedly, and turning to the 
 left, entered a sort of ante-chamber where they found 
 an elderly man of stern and dignified bearing. This 
 was de Mortery, the king's chamberlain ; and he glanced 
 with some surprise at de Carmain, frowning a little as he 
 observed the strangers with him. He then drew the 
 Gascon aside and informed him that the king desired to 
 see him the moment of his return. They conversed 
 together for a few moments, and de Carmain then hur- 
 
26o BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 ried away after assuring the vicomte that he would soon 
 return. He was absent a considerable time, and as the 
 minutes passed d'Ervand's impatience increased. For 
 Jeanne had sunk down upon a bench, or rude settle, the 
 only resting-place the room afiEorded, and lay there with 
 closed eyes, and cheeks from which the flush of excite- 
 ment was fast receding and giving place to the pallor 
 of utter exhaustion. Doubtless this was but the natural 
 result of the excessive fatigue and terror she had under, 
 gone, although d'Ervand observed her condition with 
 anxiety and alarm. Her heavy eyelids drooped until the 
 silken lashes swept her pale cheeks, and there was a 
 look of deadly weariness in her great black eyes, when 
 she opened them for an instant as he bent over her and 
 touched her hand. But the answering pressure of her 
 fingers told him that she read the love in his eyes ; a 
 smile trembled on her lips, and she murmured ; " My 
 Henri — love, I am safe with thee ! " 
 
 He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it passion- 
 ately, and wrapping her carefully in the mantle which 
 had fallen from her shoulders, placed his own cloak for a 
 pillow beneath her head, and stood beside her while she 
 fell into a heavy slumber. 
 
 Absorbed in his own thoughts he replied but briefly if 
 at all to the woman, Catherine, who demanded whether 
 her young mistress was to remain all night on a bench in 
 a room full of men, and complained bitterly of her own 
 aches and bruises. And it was little wonder if the poor 
 creature found herself suffering from the effects of her 
 ride ; for, placed on horseback for the first time in her 
 life and sorely against her will, her terror had been con- 
 siderably augmented by the rude attention of the two 
 troopers between whom she was placed, and whose ut- 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 26 1 
 
 most efforts had scarcely availed to keep her in the sad- 
 dle. Indeed she had arrived at her journey's end sadly 
 bruised and shaken, and feeling as she said, as though 
 her arms had been torn out of their sockets, and her 
 whole body beaten with a flail. She obtained little sym- 
 pathy however from the vicomte, and finally sank grum- 
 bling upon her knees in the corner, where it is possible 
 that she found some relief in her fervent prayers to the 
 saints, as well as in groans and muttered anathemas upon 
 those who were not satisfied with the two legs Heaven 
 had bestowed upon ihem, but must forsooth rack their 
 bones and bruise their bodies on the backs of four footed 
 beasts. 
 
 In the mean time the chamberlain appeared to be 
 perfectly indifferent to the distress of the strangers (in 
 truth he did not know whether to regard them as guests 
 or prisoners) whom de Carmain had left in his charge. 
 Nevertheless, he was relieved to hear the sound of 
 approaching footsteps, and to see the cheerful face of the 
 Gascon appear at the door a moment after. 
 
 " Ha, Mortery," cried he, as he entered, "where are 
 our guests ? " Then throwing a swift glance around, he 
 crossed the room and laid his hand on the vicomte's arm. 
 "Ah," he said in a low voice, "so the lady has fallen asleep," 
 and irresistibly attracted by her sweet face, he gazed 
 long and earnestly upon her. " By St Mary ! " he whis- 
 pered, and an expression of mingled admiration and 
 pity came into his eyes. " By St. Mar}', she is fair ! 
 Well, well, 'twere pity to waken her, although she must 
 be in sad need of food, for sleep is sometimes better 
 than food or wine. Yet she must have a more fitting 
 couch, and so she shall if there be such in this deserted 
 place ! " and beckoning to the chamberlain, " Hark ye ! 
 
262 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 Mortery, is there never a chamber where this maiden may 
 rdfet in comfort and undisturbed ? Our lord commands 
 that she be treated with all gentle courtesy. And 
 truly " he added in a lower tone to the vicomte, " she 
 doth well deserve it for the sake of her own sweet lips, 
 that smile even in sleep, and the jet black tresses that 
 remind me of my far ofiE land. My soul ! you are a 
 happy man to be beloved, as well I trust you be, by one 
 so fair ! " 
 
 D'Ervand flushed slightly, as he replied : " I love, and 
 am beloved. 'Tis happiness enough ; but speak no more 
 of it, I pray. Here comes your friend again." And 
 Mortery who had left the room, returned to say that he 
 had found an apartment that might serve for the two 
 women. 
 
 The vicomte then desired Catherine to rouse her mis- 
 tress, but she declined to do so, saying that she was 
 able to carry her ; and taking Jeanne in her arms she 
 followed Mortery, who led the way to a chamber more 
 comfortably furnished than that they had just left. 
 Here Catherine bade the chamberlain a curt good- 
 night, and barred the door behind his retreating foot- 
 steps, feeling as though she had at length reached a 
 haven of repose. 
 
 No sooner had de Mortery left the room with Cath- 
 erine, than Carmain, turning to the vicomte exclaimed, 
 " Now that your lady is provided for, it is time to think 
 of ourselves ; and for me, by the twelve Apostles — I am 
 more hungry than a wolf in winter ! What sayest thou, 
 shall we sup merrily together } " 
 
 "With all my heart," replied the vicomte, "for I am 
 hungry enough to eat your friend Mortery himself." 
 
 " Oh," cried Carmain, " he would prove a tough mor- 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 263 
 
 sel I promise thee. But faith, he was not cunning 
 enough for me to-night, and though he knows it not, I 
 fairly outwitted him." 
 
 " How did'st thou overreach him ? " 
 
 " I will tell thee. But you must know that he is so 
 vain of being chamberlain to the king, that he scorns to 
 do another man's bidding. Yet is he now doing mine in 
 spite of himself. Did'st mark how quickly he remem- 
 bered yon chamber, when I said to him that our lord 
 commanded us to show thee hospitality ? " 
 
 " And said he not so ? " 
 
 " Not he, for I spoke not to him of the matter. Truly 
 to-morrow will be soon enough for him to know. But it 
 weighs lightly on my conscience to deceive Mortery, who 
 cared not whether a gentle maiden passed the night on 
 yon rude settle. Good faith, it was but a little lie at 
 worst, and spoken in a lady's service." 
 
 " Well," rejoined d'Ervand laughing, " since it has pro- 
 cured a night's rest for Jeanne, I give thee absolution for 
 the sin. But where is our supper ? Or shall we go fam- 
 ishing to sleep, and thus forget our hunger ? " 
 
 " An evil habit ; a most cursed necessity ! " cried 
 Carmain. " Never sleep hungry an you wish to escape 
 horrible dreams. Feste ! I would I could come at that 
 cupboard on the wall, for I wager it holds something on 
 which we might break our fast. Come, help me move 
 this table," and having with the vicomte's assistance, 
 dragged the heavy table across the room, he mounted 
 upon it and forced the cupboard open with his dagger. 
 Standing at his full height, he was just able to reach the 
 shelves, which he carefully explored with his hands. 
 
 " Soho ! " he exclaimed, " what have we here ? " and 
 groping about, he drew forth a couple of flasks of wine, 
 
264 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 a fowl that had no doubt come untouched from the 
 king's table, and about half of a huge pasty, all of 
 which he handed to his companion. This done, he 
 leaped to the floor, and aided the vicomte to replace 
 the table in the middle of the room. They then seated 
 themselves and were about to begin their repast when 
 Mortery returned looking indignant enough to find his 
 larder rifled in this unceremonious manner. And al- 
 though in his capacity of chamberlain of the king's 
 household, he was doubtless well acquainted with the 
 privilege and custom of prisage, and had often profited 
 by it, he was extremely angry that it should be made 
 use of to his detriment. But the two offenders only 
 laughed at him, and after indulging in a few vain remon- 
 strances and muttered threats, he stalked solemnly away, 
 leaving them to enjoy themselves together. They sat 
 long over their meal, and after draining the last drop of 
 wine in the flasks wrapped themselves in their long 
 cloaks, and stretching themselves upon the oaken settles 
 in default of softer beds, were soon asleep. Indeed, 
 they were fortunate in having obtained a meal and beds, 
 however hard, for the chateau was barely furnished, and 
 of all its grand apartments only two or three were habit- 
 able. For the duke of Brittany, always the most inde- 
 pendent of the great feudatories, held himself aloof from 
 the court, and isolating himself in his Duchy, seldom 
 visited Paris and scarcely ever occupied this hotel, which 
 had therefore fallen into a state of utter neglect. How- 
 ever, as it stood just beyond the barriers, it offered a 
 convenient rendezvous for the troops which the king had 
 drawn thither, and which now lay encamped about it 
 ready to march at a moment's notice. 
 
 The Provost Marcel who was entangled in the web 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 265 
 
 woven SO cunningly about him by the king, had sworn 
 to admit his troops, and de Roye who had conducted the 
 negotiation was to have received the keys of one of the 
 gates from him on this very night. And Charles who 
 was unwilling to entrust this delicate mission to another 
 hand, awaited the baron's coming with ill concealed im- 
 patience, until fearing to delay any longer he had finally 
 despatched a trusty servant to do his errand to Marcel. 
 The hours passed slowly by, but his messenger did not 
 return, and Charles grew restless and uneasy. Alone in 
 his chamhe' he walked rapidly up and down, chafing at 
 the delay, stopping now and then as some new difficulty 
 occurred to him, and, with a stamp of his foot, continuing 
 his march. 
 
 Back and forth he went — back and forth with un- 
 wearied step until the hour grew late. And the problems 
 that perplexed him were yet unsolved when a distant 
 church bell sounded midnight. Going to the window he 
 threw up the casement and listened intently, while the 
 last strokes of the bell died away in the direction of Paris. 
 But no other sound broke the silence. The king's per- 
 sonal attendants had gone to rest ; the archers maintained 
 a silent watch, and around the chateau the soldiers lay 
 upon their arms. He listened eagerly, hoping to hear the 
 tramp of an approaching horse, but nothing announced the 
 return of his tardy messenger, and he expressed his vexa- 
 tion by an impatient gesture. Then glancing upward, he 
 saw that the sky was overspread by a slight haze, a filmy 
 veil through which the stars shone with a softened light, a 
 subdued radiance that fell upon the earth like a caress, 
 and seemed faint and warm as the summer' wind. A 
 shade crossed the king's brow as he gazed upon the 
 heavens. " A fair night," he murmured, " a fair night, 
 
266 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 but unpropitious," and closing the casement he turned 
 away, and threw himself into a chair. " 'Tis time," he 
 said, half aloud, " 'tis more than time my messenger were 
 here. Can it be the rascal Provost hesitates at the last 
 moment ? By heaven ! if I thought he dared to play me 
 false he should soon learn that it were safer to trifle with 
 a tiger than to attempt a double game with me. No, no, 
 he dare not, for he is fast entangled in the web of his own 
 folly, and well he knows that I alone am able to deliver 
 him. But where is de Roye ? Wherefore, in the name of 
 all the fiends, came he not hither to-night as we ap- 
 pomted ? " He frowned and muttered to himself, then went 
 on abruptly, — " Did I not warn him of a threatened dan- 
 ger if he lingered longer in yon cursed place ; bid him be- 
 ware of that young girl whose star rose so rapidly athwart 
 his own ? And well do I believe some misfortune hath be- 
 fallen him, else would he never have failed me thus. But 
 he is like other men — coward or fool. Afraid to lift the 
 veil of the unseen ; afraid to look upon the future, and 
 trusting rather to the treacherous hand of chance. 
 Strange how this mysterious power still leads men blind- 
 fold through the world, and lures them on to their un- 
 doing ; strange how they overlook and oftentimes despise 
 the little things destined to destroy them. Fools ! they 
 know not how to read the jewelled page outspread above 
 them in the heavens, else would they see blazoned there 
 the snares prepared for them by fate, and if they might not 
 escape them (for who escapes his destiny ?) — well, at least 
 they would not fall into the abyss unwarned." 
 
 He rose and walked restlessly about, then seating him- 
 self at the table began to search among the parchments 
 scattered there. Selecting two of these he spread them 
 v^out before him, and examined them with fixed attention. 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 267 
 
 His expressive face reflected the thoughts that crossed his 
 mind, and from time to time he uttered an exclamation of 
 surprise. At length he raised his eyes, and leaning his 
 elbow on the table, began to speak. 
 
 " The signs are favorable," he said, " and my star still 
 mounts toward the zenith. ' Its light grows fainter,' saith 
 Andrea. What of that, since it still moves onward, while 
 my cousin's pales before it .■' And by St. Denys ! it shall 
 pale yet more ere long ! " He brooded silently for a 
 time, and his thoughts could not be divined from the 
 broken sentences that fell from his lips. Presently, how- 
 ever, he took up another scroll and unrolled it slowly. 
 But his brow darkened as his eye scanned the horoscope 
 of the Provost Marcel, which he had desired Andrea to 
 send to him, and which he had not yet examined. " How 
 is this ? " he murmured angrily. " The planet that yester- 
 night just showed above the horizon's edge hath already 
 overtaken the feeble star that rules the fortunes of Mar- 
 cel, and overshadowed it with a malign influence. Male- 
 diction ! 'tis an evil augury, for if this scroll speaks truth 
 (and when Andrea fails then none may read the heavens 
 aright). Marcel is lost, and Paris escapes me — Paris and 
 France ! " 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 What scenes had the night witnessed in this city 
 of which Charles of Navarre dreamed and despaired ! 
 
 Noisy banquets where Frankish warriors shouted forth 
 the praises of the high gods, and tossed each other on 
 their shields. Terror and dismay, shrieks of women and 
 wringing of hands, as the Northmen sailed up the Seine, 
 steering their course by the light of villages blazing be- 
 hind them. Merovingian steeping himself in crime and 
 debauchery until a mayor of the palace trampled him into 
 the dust. Carlovingian bigot struggling feebly to main- 
 tain himself in his fortress of Laon, while Hugh of the 
 northern marches snatched the kingship from his failing 
 hands. Knights of the temple issuing mounted and armed 
 from their chapter house, and with white cloaks flowing 
 over their shoulders, riding phantom-like away through 
 the darkness — whether to return, whether to die under 
 shield, still unquestioning and obedient to the will of the 
 Grand Master, Those gloomy torture chambers where 
 the white cloak and red cross were of no avail to protect 
 the gallant Templars from torments unbearable. The 
 cruel flames that flickered over the portal of St. Antoine, 
 and flung a blood red glare into the night that beheld the 
 bravest sons of the Temple stand undismayed at the 
 stake. The noble figures of Jacques Malay and Guy of 
 Normandy, as they faced death on that little islet oppo- 
 site the palace. The ringing voice of the white-bearded 
 old man, who, resuming the haughtiness of a Grand Master 
 
 268 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 269 
 
 in the very presence of death, summoned king and pope to 
 meet him at the bar of God, and there answer for their sin. 
 Orgies of the abandoned children of Philip the Fair. — 
 These, and numberless deeds had the night beheld since 
 the last Roman Legionary turned his back on his fair 
 island city, and marched away on the road to Marseilles. 
 
 Perhaps the spirit of the night recalled these scenes as 
 he paused and looked down where Paris lay asleep be- 
 neath the shadow of his sombre wings. Perchance he 
 brooded over the vanished years as his glance swept 
 slowly over the city from the church of Saint Gene- 
 vieve to the ruins of the Temple. It may be that his eye 
 rested for a moment on the hostelry of the Cerf Blanc 
 and the throng of armed men assembled in the court- 
 yard there, while he vaguely wondered what new memory 
 was about to be added to those which already crowded 
 upon him. And perchance he smiled pityingly, and 
 veiling his face in his cloudy mantle, resumed his noise- 
 less flight across the world. 
 
 The echo of the great bell of the Carmelite convent 
 had reached the distant chamber of the king of Navarre, 
 and its heavy strokes still reverberated on the air, as 
 two horsemen rode slowly over the Grand Pont and 
 emerging beneath the threatening portal of the Grand 
 Chatelet, proceeded along the rue Vanerrie until they 
 reached a street leading in the direction of the rue St. 
 Denys. There, guided by a sudden impulse, one of the 
 riders wheeled his horse about and gazed long and ear- 
 nestly toward the Louvre, whose donjon tower loomed in- 
 distinct through the darkness. He appeared to be strug- 
 gling with some emotion which he would have concealed 
 from his companion, for he turned his back full upon 
 
270 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 him and remained silent, until unable longer to endure 
 the self-restraint, he burst forth. 
 
 " Stronghold of princes, refuge of the strong, curse of 
 the people, dost thou frown so darkly upon me .■■ Aye, 
 frown darkly as thou wilt, giant of pride, but never again 
 shalt thou be the dwelling-place of kings ! " and turning 
 to the astonished messenger of the king of Navarre, 
 Marcel exclaimed : " Knowest thou the dark deeds that 
 have been done within yonder walls ? Knowest the grief 
 and misery they have brought upon the people, the simple 
 foolish people, who ever give their gold — aye, and their 
 blood, to rear the fortresses in which tyrants dwell ? Dost 
 know how patiently they endure until they can endure no 
 more, and then arise in the vain hope of casting off their 
 chains ? Yes, yes, in vain the wretched citizen, rendered 
 desperate by grievous outrage, or driven to fury by the 
 pangs of hunger, dashes himself against the* barriers his 
 own hands have built, until, exhausted and despairing he 
 submits again, and bows beneath the yoke that presses 
 more heavily and ever more heavily upon his neck. 
 God knows how I have striven to unloose the yoke ! 
 Alas, I know not if I too strive in vain, for I am forced 
 to lean upon your lord, to trust him more than is well, — 
 far more I fear." 
 
 " Say not so, good Master Marcel, for well I know the 
 king doth love thee." 
 
 " And well he may," rejoined the Provost with some 
 bitterness, "fori have broken with all my friends to pleas- 
 ure him, and through him accomplish that of which I 
 dream." 
 
 "Of what dost thou dream, good Master Provost.' if I 
 may make bold to ask." 
 
 " Of what ? " and Marcel's voice was almost fierce as 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 271 
 
 he replied : " Of the freedom of the citizen, of the burghers 
 of Paris first, and afterward, — why then the peasant too 
 may 'scape the bondage under which he groans. Sayest 
 thou he hath failed already ? Well, a second time he 
 would succeed with Paris to uphold him, — Paris a free 
 city ! like Ghent and Liege." 
 
 "Soho" muttered the other under his breath. "A 
 fine scheme truly, and of the devil's hatching ! " And it 
 was fortunate for him that Marcel could not see the 
 scornful smile that curled his lip as he replied : " You say 
 truth, Master Provost. To make all men brothers is a 
 noble ambition. By my faith, 'tis the very theme on 
 which the holy brothers of Mt. Carmel dwell, and since 
 they be inspired by Heaven, doubt not that Heaven is 
 with you " 
 
 " I doubt not that," returned Marcel thoughtfully, " but 
 yet — " He broke off abruptly. " Let us on," he said, 
 " the time for doubts and vain regrets has passed, one path 
 remains and I must follow it wheresoe'er it leads." 
 
 He rode forward, his head sunk upon his breast and 
 with a despondent air, for his heart was full of forebod- 
 ings. Nor did his companion care to interrupt his reverie 
 until observing that they had passed the gate of St. Denys, 
 he asked Marcel whether they should not turn back. 
 
 " No," he replied, " we are near St. Martin's now and 
 it will serve." However, he roused himself as he spoke, 
 and spurred his horse to a gallop as though wishing to 
 shake off the gloom that oppressed him. 
 
 Meanwhile the tramp of the approaching steeds was 
 eagerly listened to by a group of persons standing beneath 
 the heavy arch of St. Martin's gate. There were count 
 Guy and Maillart, Lanard, Rolin and Robert Bonel, with 
 twenty men-at-arms whose horses were concealed under 
 
272 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 the shadow of the wall. There too, the civic guard lay 
 bound, while a numerous body of citizens was drawn up a 
 little distance away. Perfect silence reigned as Marcel 
 rode up and called out. " What, ho ! captain of the gate, 
 how goes your watch ? " 
 
 He received no reply, and raising his voice shouted, 
 " Hollo, captain of the burgher guard ! come hither I say, 
 for I have a word to speak to you ! " 
 
 Still no answer came, and flinging himself impatiently 
 from his horse, he entered the embrasure of the gate fol- 
 lowed by his companion. But he started back in aston- 
 ishment, when he saw count Guy and the soldiers who 
 were ranged behind him. He turned pale and would 
 have retreated, but at a signal from Guy a rank of spear- 
 men barred the way. One moment he stood irresolute, 
 and then advanced. " What means this ambuscade ? " he 
 stammered, trying in vain to hide the trembling of his 
 voice, " Wherefore are you here in arms, my lord ? " 
 
 " Provost," returned Guy sternly, " I am not here to 
 render an account to you. But know that I, count de la 
 Roche, do in the Regent's name arrest you of high 
 treason." 
 
 " My lord," said Marcel, " I deny the charge. What 
 proofs have you ? " 
 
 Guy laughed scornfully as he answered. " This is no 
 time for folly. Provost, nor will I bandy words with you ; I 
 have said my say. Yet if you have aught to speak in 
 your defence, Maillart may hear you ; methinks you are 
 ancient friends.'' 
 
 The wine-merchant stepped forward. " Alas ! " he 
 said, " hadst thou been warned by me thou wouldst not 
 now stand accused of this heavy charge. Canst justify 
 th)'self, Etienne ? " 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 273 
 
 " And by what right dost thou stand forth to question 
 me, Frangois ? Since when hast thou grown so great as 
 to dare to speak thus to me ? By what authority, I say, 
 dost thou accuse the Provost whom all good citizens obey, 
 and what makest thou here so late, when honest burghers 
 are asleep ? " 
 
 " What dost thou here thyself ? " retorted the merchant, 
 irritated by the contemptuous tone in which he was ad- 
 dressed. 
 
 " Truly," replied Marcel, " I am here that thou mayest 
 sleep in peace at home. Dost not yet know that I have 
 command of the walls, and make the rounds each night ? 
 And must I forsooth, submit to be chidden by thee ? " 
 
 " I chide thee not, Etienne, yet well I may, for thou 
 hast done me a grievous wrong." 
 
 " What wrong hast had at my hands, Francois ? " 
 
 " Thou knowest well, Etienne ; why dost thou dissemble 
 thus ? But since I must remind thee, tell me how thou 
 hadst the heart to steal away my daughter and hide the 
 truth from me ; refuse to help me in my search for her, 
 aye, and lie to me ? What had I done to injure thee ; and 
 if thou hadst a grudge to satisfy, was there no other way 
 to seek revenge ? was it not base to lay thy hands upon a 
 girl, a helpless child, who doubtless trusted thee ; to send 
 her unprotected forth to endure, God knows what terror .' 
 Didst thou not know how tenderly she had been brought 
 up at home, didst not remember all the perils that assail 
 the innocent, nor even think how rude and wicked were 
 the hands to which you gave her ; nor call to mind the 
 unknown fears and fancies and alarms that make wild 
 tumult in a maiden's breast ? False friend, how canst 
 thou look me in the face ? " 
 
 Marcel laughed harshly. "A curse upon the doting 
 
274 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 fool ! " he exclaimed. " How should I know whither the 
 girl hath fled, or care. Peace to thy babbling, Maillart. 
 Doubtless thy daughter soon forgot her home and thee, 
 and found a refuge in her lover's arms." 
 
 " Wilt thou deny the truth even now ? " cried Maillart. 
 " And wilt thou too deny that thou hast bargained with 
 the Dauphin's foes, and sold the city to the king of 
 Navarre ? " 
 
 " That do I ! " returned the Provost angrily. " Stand 
 aside, traitor, and bid your fellows let me pass, for you 
 hinder the sworn officer of the Regent from his duty." . 
 
 " That will I not, Etienne Marcel, nor have I power to 
 do so if I would. The noble count de la Roche com- 
 mands here, and thou art his prisoner! My lord," he 
 added, addressing Guy, " you may see the proof of his 
 treachery in the Provost's hand ; for there he holds, fast 
 clasped, the keys which yonder fellow was to bear to the 
 king." 
 
 " 'Tis false as hell ! " exclaimed Marcel, " false as thy- 
 self, false as thy daughter ! Stand aside I say, or I will 
 stab thee to the heart ! " 
 
 Although Maillart strove hard to control himself, 
 he lost his self-command at these insulting words. 
 " Enough," he said, and his voice was hoarse with pas- 
 sion. " Dare not to sully Jeanne's name, dare not to 
 call me traitor. Thou art forsworn, thou hast lied to me, 
 and by God, thou art the traitor ! " 
 
 The Provost snatched a dagger from his belt and flung 
 himself furiously upon Maillart. " Die ! " he shouted, 
 " die, scoundrel ! " and although the merchant who was an 
 active and powerful man, warded off the blow aimed at 
 his breast, he received a severe wound in the arm. He 
 staggered back, while several of the men-at-arms and 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 275 
 
 some of Maillart's friends armed with axe and dagger ran 
 hastily up and surrounded Marcel. But he, bent on 
 wreaking vengeance on Maillart, brandished his dagger 
 and struggled hard to break away from the hands laid 
 upon him, while Guy cried out to him. " Yield thyself. 
 Marcel 1 Madman, would you throw away your life > 
 Harm him not," he shouted to the men-at-arms. " Hold, 
 hold, take him alive ! " But it was too late, the unhappy 
 man, blind with rage, fought desperately, stabbing right 
 and left, until one of Maillart's friends infuriated at re- 
 ceiving a wound in the face, raised his axe and striking 
 Marcel full upon the head, brought him lifeless to the 
 ground. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 The following days were full of fierce excitement — 
 memorable days, in which Paris resembled a sea lashed 
 into fury by a sudden storm. The partisans of Marcel 
 were numerous enough to make count Guy's position 
 both difficult and dangerous. But without a leader to 
 direct them, they exhausted their strength in furious and 
 ill devised assaults upon the gates, which the count had 
 seized and garrisoned with loyal citizens. However, Guy 
 was well aware that this state of things could not be pro- 
 longed, and he lost no time in despatching a messenger 
 to the marquis de la Rivifere, informing him of what had 
 taken place, and desiring him to urge the Dauphin to 
 allow provisions to enter the starving city, and to hasten 
 thither in person if he wished to re-establish his au- 
 thority. The marquis sent back word that the blockade 
 of the river should be immediately raised, and that the 
 Dauphin would not neglect so favorable an opportunity 
 of returning to Paris. 
 
 Accordingly, on the third day, to Guy's intense relief, 
 boats laden with provisions began to arrive from the 
 upper Seine and the Marne. A welcome sight to the 
 thousands who lined the quays shouting with joy as, one 
 after another, the precious cargoes were discharged. 
 And when Guy proclaimed a general pardon for all who 
 had belonged to Marcel's party, the rage of the turbulent 
 populace quickly subsided. 
 
 The people accepted food and fair promises. They 
 276 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 277 
 
 already began to forget their Provost and to think his 
 death a just punishment for having allowed them to 
 starve ; they tossed their ragged caps in the air, and 
 shouted : " Live the good King and the Dauphin ! live 
 the count de la Roche ; down with Navarre, death to the 
 English ! " The crowds that had but yesterday surged 
 through the streets breathing nothing but threats and 
 curses, frantic with hunger and rage, now sought their 
 homes laughing as they went, jesting with their neighbors 
 upon the sorry appearance they would make at the grand 
 entry of the Dauphin, pacified, careless and at ease. The 
 storm that had swept over the city with all the violence 
 of a -summer hurricane vanished as suddenly as it had 
 arisen, and on this night of the third of August tranquil- 
 lity reigned once more. Sleep slowly descended and 
 enfolded Paris from St. Jacques to St. Martins, from St. 
 Antoine to St. Honore. 
 
 It was the first moment that Guy had found in which 
 to think of his own affairs ; and he was busily engaged in 
 attempting to unravel the confusion that reigned in his 
 mind — for the tumult and excitement of the past daj^s 
 seemed to him like a horrible dream — when Maillart 
 made his appearance. Guy welcomed him and observing 
 the worn and anxious look upon his face, inquired whether 
 he were ill. 
 
 " No, my lord, I am as well as usual," said the mer- 
 chant, " but I have much to say to you to-night, and truly, 
 I scarce know how to begin." 
 
 "Then will I tell you," returned Guy with a smile; "of 
 what else should we talk but of mistress Jeanne and 
 Henri d'Ervand .'' And in faith I was thinking of them but 
 now, and wondering what fate has befallen them. By 
 heavens, I trust they are in safety ! " 
 
278 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 " I pray they be, my lord, although my heart misgives 
 me. 'Tis very strange we hear no tidings of them." 
 
 " Yet not so strange," said Guy, cheerfully. " Bethink 
 thee of the tumult of the past few days ! " 
 
 " I like not to think upon it, my lord. Truly it has 
 been a fearful time ! Perhaps, my lord, d'Ervand feared 
 to enter the city bringing Jeanne with him." 
 
 " Doubtless he would, my good Maillart. It would 
 have been folly and worse. Trust me they are safe, and 
 we shall see them soon." 
 
 " Let us hope so," said Maillart, " and now, my lord, 
 I will tell you what perplexes me, and weighs upon my 
 mind. I know not if the vicomte said aught of the mat- 
 ter to you, but the day before he went away he told me 
 that he loved my daughter well, and asked her hand in 
 marriage, and I confess I knew not what to answer him." 
 
 " And why should that perplex you ? " asked Guy, not a 
 little surprised. " My faith, you cannot hope to wed 
 your daughter better than to a noble gentleman ! " 
 
 " No, my lord, and I fear she loves him." 
 
 " What hath come to thee, Maillart. You fear ? I 
 know not what you mean ! How can you object to what 
 will make her happy, and be so much to your advan- 
 tage ? " 
 
 " I do not object, but it cannot be. There is a reason — 
 a good reason why the vicomte must not marry Jeanne." 
 
 "It should indeed be a weighty one that would induce 
 you to refuse such an alliance, for trust me. Master 
 Maillart, the heirs of noble houses are not like to woo 
 your daughter every day." 
 
 " True, my lord. I know the vicomte honors us above 
 our worth." 
 
 "And yet you hesitate! tis strange and most unreason- 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 279 
 
 able. Look you, good Maillart, my friend has set his 
 heart upon your daughter ; she loves him too, and he 
 will raise her to a rank that burgher maidens seldom 
 reach except in dreams. Think you it was easy for him 
 to brave the ridicule, the blame and scorn of all his 
 friends ; to be called simpleton, to endure cold looks, 
 and to be laughed at for his folly in offering honorable 
 marriage to a nameless girl ? He has been frank with 
 you, has scorned to seek your daughter's love unworthily; 
 he offers her the greatest honor in his power to give — 
 and you doubt — By our Lady ! you doubt whether to 
 grant his suit! Peste ! I had better thoughts of you, 
 but if you have a reason as you say, in Heaven's name 
 speak, and let me hear it ! " 
 
 Maillart listened very attentively, but smiling a little 
 at the count's excitement, and he paused a moment 
 before replying. " My lord," he said, at last, speaking 
 with much deliberation, " you wrong me somewhat in 
 believing that I hold the noble vicomte's offer cheap. 
 'Tis true that I like not such marriages, and think the 
 noble should wed with one of his degree ; but I have 
 learned that real love brooks no barriers, and am not so 
 blind but that I know true love from false. I am sure 
 your friend loves Jeanne truly and that she loves him. 
 So they might well live happily together in spite of some 
 cold looks, and glances of disdam from those who would 
 be proud or envious. If this were all — if it were only 
 the difference in station, and the noble vicomte over- 
 looked it and wished to wed the daughter of a poor mer- 
 chant, I would not say him nay, but I came hither to 
 tell you why I must refuse, why it would be wrong for me 
 to accept the vicomte's suit, although it is a great honor 
 for Jeanne and for me." 
 
28o BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 " I am waiting to hear," said the count somewhat 
 coldly. 
 
 " It is," continued Maillart, " because Jeanne is not 
 my child." 
 
 " What do ygu say, not your child ! whose then ? " 
 
 " My lord, a little time ago you called her a nameless 
 girl. Alas ! it is really true, and I am ignorant of her 
 birth. Would I not then do my lord d'Ervand a grievous 
 wrong to give her to him, and if it be so hard for him to 
 wed the child of parents honored and respected (though 
 I say it) in their own degree, would it not be impossible 
 that he should choose a wife taken from the streets — a 
 waif — the offspring of criminals perhaps, for God alone 
 knows who her parents were." 
 
 The count remained silent, surprised and scarcely 
 knowing what to answer, while Maillart went on: "It is 
 true," he said thoughtfully, " I might conceal this from 
 him, for none beside my wife know of it ; even Jeanne 
 does not dream that she is not our daughter, for she was 
 scarce a year in age, a mere infant, when I took her from 
 a woman who came to my door and left her in my arms. 
 But you would not advise me to such a course, my lord, 
 and how can I tell the vicomte that Jeanne whom I love 
 dearer, if that may be, than though she were indeed my 
 child, is worse than nameless? and if I tell him, how can 
 she be hindered from learning what I would not have her 
 know for all the gold in France." 
 
 " How came you to receive an unknown infant from a 
 stranger ; did you not question this woman ? " 
 
 " No, my lord ; she thrust the babe into my arms, and I 
 was fearful she might kill it if I gave it back to her, she 
 had so wild a look — and while I tried to frame my ques- 
 tions not to anger her, she disappeared so suddenly that I 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 28 1 
 
 sometimes think she was no woman, but a witch or spirit 
 of the forest. And while I stood there wondering, 
 the infant looked in my face and laughed, stretch- 
 ing its little arms up to clasp my neck in such a 
 trustful way as won my heart; and so I took her to 
 my wife. Good reason have we to thank God for 
 sending us a daughter who has been a blessing to our 
 home ! " 
 
 " But have you never seen the woman since that time, 
 good Master Maillart ? do you remember her appearance, 
 would you recognize her ? " 
 
 " I have never seen her since that day, and 'tis unlike 
 that I would know her now, for so many years have 
 passed, she must be changed if still alive. But I remem- 
 ber her looks, her face, her dress, as if it were no longer 
 ago than yesterday. A tall, gaunt woman with black hair, 
 my lord, a long thin nose with a hump upon it, great 
 hollows in her cheeks, and with small bright eyes, so 
 bright they almost seemed to burn ; and then her dress was 
 uncouth and strange, for she wore a robe all torn and 
 frayed coming not much below her knees, her feet were 
 bare, a scarlet mantle wrapped about her shoulders, and 
 her hair was full of wild flowers. Yes, I remember well 
 enough." 
 
 " And the child," said count Guy, " do you think it 
 belonged to this strange creature who was some mad 
 thing perhaps ? " 
 
 "I cannot tell," replied Maillart, "but yet I never 
 really thought it hers. No, Jeanne could scarcely be the 
 child of such a mother, for she bore no likeness to her 
 then, and now that she is grown to womanhood she has 
 no single feature that reminds me of her. Her dress, too, 
 was fine and delicate, not such as peasant children are 
 
282 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 used to wear, and she had around her neck a goldeu 
 heart-shaped thing with Jeanne engraved upon it." 
 
 " Ha ! " exclaimed the count, " that should have given 
 you a clew. Was there no writing within, no device, no 
 portrait ? " 
 
 " The trinket did not open," said Maillart, " or, if so, I 
 could not discover how ; there was naught besides the 
 name to guide us, and so we called her Jeanne.'' 
 
 " But that is singular, for such things mostly open. 1 
 would like to see this charm or locket, my good Maillart.'' 
 
 "To say the truth," rejoined the merchant, " I believe 
 I should have carried it to a goldsmith, but I gave the 
 matter little thought at first, and soon forgot it, for my 
 wife laid up the trinket until Jeanne grew old enough to 
 wear it, and then I thought, why 'tis useless to ask ques- 
 tions and rouse the gossip of all the old wives in our 
 street, whose clattering tongues will drive me mad if once 
 they learn this secret. Besides as time went on, I dreaded 
 more and more to lose the girl, and thus it happened that 
 I never made the search I should have done at first ; per- 
 haps I did what was not right, I do not know. But the 
 golden locket is gone now, for Jeanne wore it always 
 about her neck." 
 
 " 'Tis a great pit}-,'' said the count, " and. Master Mail- 
 lart, I scarce know what to think, but I understand your 
 hesitation now, and ask you to forget my hasty words. 
 Good faith ! I was in the wrong to speak so warmly ! " 
 
 " Nobly said, my lord," returned Maillart smiling ; 
 " 'tis hard for youth to own itself mistaken ; but I know 
 well that you would not willingly say an unkind word to 
 me. 
 
 " By my faith I would not ; no, my good Maillart, and 
 do not think me ungrateful, for trust me the Dauphin 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 283 
 
 shall know from me how you helped to save Paris for 
 him. Ha ! we were just in time ; Marcel well-nigh suc- 
 ceeded in his aim." 
 
 "Yes, my lord, but Etienne was misguided and de- 
 ceived, or he would never have' gone so far. Well, well, 
 he would listen to no warning, and followed evil counsels, 
 else he might have done much good, for he was an able 
 man, quick to see where the people were treated with in- 
 justice, and to devise some remedy for abuses that all of 
 us could see, but none knew how to escape from. He 
 was kind of heart, generous and popular ; he might have 
 been a great man, but the evil times, bad counsels and 
 ambition overmastered him. He was my friend, I was 
 proud of him ; I little thought to see him meet a traitor's 
 doom," and Maillart sighed as he spoke. 
 
 "Peace to the dead," said Guy. "Let us talk of the liv- 
 ing. And on my word, though I am over young to give 
 advice to you, and you may laugh at me if you will, yet, 
 by heaven, I see no reason why you should make two 
 people unhappy for such a trifling scruple ! Mistress 
 Jeanne doth honor to her foster parents, and will not 
 shame her husband. D'Ervand is excusable for losing 
 his heart to her I trow, such a pretty, sunny-tempered 
 maiden — and trust me, he will not easily relinquish her. 
 Let them wed and be happy, in Heaven's name ! " 
 
 " Ha, ha ! who gives such sage advice here ? Aha 
 Guy, thou rogue, what mischief art thou about now ? " and 
 the young count, starting up in astonishment, found him- 
 self confronted by the marquis de la Riviere, who, throw- 
 ing his arms around him, embraced him affectionately, 
 and then pushing him back into his chair, stood smiling 
 in his face, and with his hand on his shoulder, talking on 
 without waiting for a reply. " A fine surprise I gave you. 
 
284 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 dear Guy, for I found that rascal, Robert Bonel, before the 
 door with armor on back, forsooth (the dog hath not for- 
 got his trade), and made him let me quietly in. Dost re- 
 member, Guy, how long the knave was about undoing his 
 devilish chains the night we went to his hostel — you and 1? 
 Ha ! you have wrought a change since then ; and, Guy, 
 let me tell you that thou hast earned honor for thyself 
 and me in this affair. But wait, and to-morrow thou wilt 
 see how the Dauphin receives thee — yes, and that worthy 
 master Maillart, of whom you speak in your letters. Ha ! 
 that reminds me — " 
 
 Here, Guy, who had struggled to his feet in spite of the 
 detaining hand on his shoulder, interrupted the marquis. 
 " Let me," he said, " present to you the very person of whom 
 you are speaking ; that master Maillart who is far more de- 
 serving of your praise than I, for without his aid I should 
 have failed in this task, now so happily accomplished." 
 
 Maillart bowed respectfully to the marquis, who looked 
 keenly at him, and then offered him his hand, saying : 
 " Good Master Maillart, I am glad to clasp hands with 
 a brave man who has done a great service to France. I 
 thank you for this in the Dauphin's name, and in my own, 
 for the assistance you have rendered to my dear friend, 
 the count de la Roche." 
 
 He then seated himself while Maillart replied : " I 
 give you thanks, my lord Marquis, for the honor you 
 do me, and for your kind words, but I have done no more 
 than the duty of a loyal citizen, and am entitled to no 
 praise." 
 
 " But the count de la Roche says otherwise." 
 
 " He overrates my poor services, my lord." 
 
 " Not so, Maillart, not so," cried Guy. 
 
 "Well," said the marquis, smiling, "you are both en- 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 285 
 
 titled to praise. The Dauphin will know how to reward 
 you. But I heard a most strange story to-night, and as it 
 concerns you, Master Maillart, I would have you listen to 
 it ; so seat yourself. I suppose," he went on, " you will not 
 be sorry to learn that the king of Navarre is breaking up 
 his camp and dismissing his troops. I have carried on 
 negotiations with him for some time past, and have just 
 come from an interview with him. I found him at the old 
 hotel of Brittany, which he was bold enough to take pos- 
 session of three days- ago, the better to carry on his cor- 
 respondence with Marcel. After completing our affair 
 (you shall hear the terms I made with him at another 
 time, Guy), the king declared that he held in his hands 
 certain proofs to show that my brother's child, who has 
 long been thought to be dead, is still alive, and " turning 
 suddenly to Maillart, " that she passes as your daughter." 
 
 Guy uttered an exclamation of surprise, and was about 
 to reply, but the marquis signed to him to remain silent 
 and allow the merchant to speak. 
 
 " Good, my lord ! " said he, after a moment's hesitation. 
 " I scarce know what to answer. 'Tis a thing hard to be- 
 lieve, and yet it may be true, for it is certain Jeanne is 
 not my daughter. I have but now told the count de la 
 Roche how she comes to be known as my child, and if it 
 please him to repeat this, he can do so in better words 
 than I." 
 
 Guy waited not to be urged, but quickly explained the 
 circumstances to the marquis, who listened attentively, 
 and then, after asking Maillart to describe the locket 
 which Jeanne had lost, took from unde^his cloak a packet, 
 and opening it disclosed the ornament which Maillart 
 instantly recognized. He also pointed out the secret 
 spring, and showed the wondering merchant the miniature 
 
286 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 of the countess, which Guy declared resembled Jeanne's 
 face so perfectly that it might have been painted from it. 
 He displayed the locket that the king had taken away 
 from Blanche, and said: "I have other proofs, good 
 Master Maillart. You shall see them and satisfy yourself 
 as I have done, before I ask you to yield up your guar- 
 dianship of Jeanne, whom you should be blithe to know 
 the rightful heiress of fair castles and broad lands." 
 
 " Yet am I not glad, my lord. For year by year she has 
 grown into my life until it seems as though I could not give 
 her up. Our home will be well-nigh desolate without her. 
 We have no child to fill her vacant place, and — but 'tis 
 selfish for me to think only of my loss when she will 
 gain so much. My lord, when you know Jeanne you will 
 understand my sorrow." 
 
 "I doubt it not," rejoined the marquis, "but do not 
 grieve yourself needlessly, for if she hath a true heart she 
 will not forget her foster parents ; and if she doth, by 
 heaven 1 she is no niece of mine. Look not so downcast. 
 Hold ! I have that to tell thee will cheer thy heart. Dost 
 remember — " He was here interrupted, for the door was 
 flung violently open, and Henri d' Ervand rushed in. 
 
 " Welcome, Henri,'' shouted Guy, springing to his feet, 
 and seizing his friend's outstretched hand. " What won- 
 derful good fortune is this ? I have had no tidings of 
 thee these four days." 
 
 " And you would scarce have tidings now, were it not 
 for the marquis de la Rivibre, who, by my faith, looks not 
 overpleased to see me." 
 
 " How would ysu have me pleased ? " exclaimed the 
 marquis. " Fesie I you burst in like a whirlwind, and 
 spoiled my story. Nevertheless," he continued, smiling, 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 287 
 
 " you are welcome, Vicomte, and you shall tell good mas- 
 ter Maillart— " 
 
 " What ! have you not told him ? " cried d'Ervand, as he 
 shook hands with the merchant. " Has he not told you, 
 Maillart, how he found Jeanne and myself the unwilling 
 guests of the king of Navarre, .who, I well believe, would 
 not have scrupled to hold us close prisoners to gratify his 
 spleen ; and how he refused to come to terms with him 
 until he promised to set us free, and how we all returned 
 together ? " 
 
 " But where is Jeanne ? " asked Maillart, eagerly. 
 " Why is she not with you ? Is she safe ? " 
 
 " Yes, truly is she. I came this moment from your 
 house, where I left her, happy at finding herself at home 
 again." 
 
 The merchant rose hastily. " I must see her. I must 
 go to her. Pardon me, my lords, if I use scant cere- 
 mony," and he hurried to the door. 
 
 " Go, go," said the marquis, " a fair good night to you, 
 Maillart, — and hark ye : do not forget count Guy's 
 advice." 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 The stately ceremony of the Dauphin's entry had come 
 and gone. Grave rather than gay, it was more dignified 
 than the pageants of the succeeding reigns, although not 
 magnificent or brilliant as were the gorgeous festivals— 
 that were soon to distinguish the Burgundian court. 
 Poverty and hunger had of late been guests of the Pari — 
 sians who lined the rues St. Denis and de la Barillerie, 
 who shouted themselves hoarse as the Dauphin's train_ 
 passed along those streets and over the Pont Mibrai, on 
 its way to the cathedral. It was a lean and ragged crowd- 
 that surged to the foot of the lofty steps of la Cit^ pal- 
 ace, and listened to the dull address that Charles deliv- 
 ered to his well beloved citizens of Paris. What though 
 they had been for months in arms against him, what 
 though but a few days since they had rushed madly 
 through the streets, demanding vengeance for the death 
 of their Provost 1 
 
 A few days ! It was an age, a lifetime to that fickle 
 people, living only in the present — in the passing hour ! 
 A new idea had seized upon their minds, a new prospect 
 already opened to their view, and above all, they were no 
 longer hungry. Therefore they welcomed their lord's 
 return, they cursed the memory of Marcel and quickly 
 banished it, while they abandoned themselves to the 
 enjoyment of the games and novel spectacles provided 
 for their amusement. 
 
 Although the marquis de la Riviere had persuaded the 
 288 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 289 
 
 king of Navarre to disband the greater part of his troops, 
 and to accept the friendly overtures of the Dauphin, he 
 was well aware that this reconciliation was insincere 
 and would be of short duration. Meanwhile the king 
 withdrew to St. Denis and held himself aloof from his 
 cousin. Deeply chagrined at the failure of his plots, he 
 buried himself in the hotel of a faithful partisan, and 
 listened to the reports which he constantly received of 
 the state of affairs in Paris : nor were these such as to 
 revive his ambitious hopes, and he resolved to retire to 
 Normandy. His departure was delayed, however, by 
 an entertainment given at the Louvre, and he thought 
 it politic to be represented there, although he himself 
 declined the Dauphin's urgent invitation upon the pre- 
 text of ill health and the fatiguing journey he was about 
 to undertake. Too distrustful to place himself in the 
 power of one whom he had treated as a mortal enemy, 
 he remained at home, desiring the gentlemen of his train 
 to bear the assurance of his love and devoted fealty to 
 his cousin. He passed the evening alone, absorbed in 
 thought. Baffled for the present, he did not lose sight 
 of the object he had in view : his subtle intellect was 
 already busy with new devices by which to overcome the 
 obstacles in his path, for his was not a mind to exhaust 
 itself in one direction, or to be stayed by barriers diffi- 
 cult to surmount. 
 
 Where the stag must turn aside, the fox may still find 
 ample room — where Reynard is at fault, the serpent 
 glides with ease — and thus it was with Charles le Mau- 
 vais. He cared not whether he attained his object in a 
 noble manner, by cunning, or by silent, deadly means. 
 All were alike familiar to him and if one failed another 
 might succeed. But he knew that the popularity of the 
 19 
 
290 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 Dauphin was for the present well assured, and since he 
 could not oppose it, he must swim with the tide. He 
 would watch, dissemble, wait ; he would cherish the am- 
 bitious dreams that filled his breast, never relinquish 
 them and abide his time. He was aroused from his rev- 
 erie by the trampling of horses on the pavement with- 
 out, and touching a silver bell beside him, the sum- 
 mons was quickly answered by the chamberlain in wait- 
 ing. 
 
 " Who has arrived, de Mortery ? " said the king. 
 
 " The gentlemen who were bidden to the Louvre, your 
 highness," replied the chamberlain. 
 
 " Is it so late ? " 
 
 "An hour past midnight, sire." 
 
 " Say you so ? Well, I would speak with de Carmain 
 before I sleep ; send him hither and, good Mortery, I 
 shall not need you again to-night : I will disrobe myself." 
 
 De Mortery bowed and withdrew, while the king 
 walked back and forth humming a gay air as he went. 
 He had traversed the apartment but twice or thrice when 
 de Carmain came in. " Mort Dieu ! " exclaimed Charles, 
 " my summons lingered not by the way." 
 
 "It reached me on the wing, your highness." 
 
 "And you took wing to answer it ? " 
 
 " Yes, sire. Speed fans the flame, and love grows cold 
 to loiterers." 
 
 " Beshrew thy Gascon proverbs ! " said the king laugh- 
 ing. "Well, Roger, didst thou fare merrily at the Louvre 
 to-night ? did my lord duke of Normandy smile on thee, 
 and didst thou greet him lovingly in my name ? Sit 
 down and tell me all that passed." 
 
 De Carmain seated himself. " Methought," he said. 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 29 1 
 
 "my lord the Dauphin liked not over well your highness's 
 proffer of dear devotion." 
 
 " What said he, Roger ? " 
 
 " ' Wherefore doth my cousin of Navarre not grace our 
 hall, to-night ? ' quoth he. 
 
 " ' He keeps his bed,' quoth I. ' I fear me much, great 
 lord, he scarce will have the strength to mount his horse 
 to-morrow.' 
 
 " ' Is he so sick ? ' quoth he I ' God have him in his 
 holy keeping!'" 
 
 " ' Amen ! ' quoth I." 
 
 " By the saints ! you were somewhat malapert," rejoined 
 the king with a laugh ; " but what said my royal cousin to 
 your amen ? " 
 
 " By my troth, he frowned ! ' Fair sir,' said he, ' you 
 have an over nimble tongue ; so please you, go and min- 
 gle with our guests.' " 
 
 " I warrant you waited no second bidding, Roger." 
 
 " No, sire, I lost myself in the crowd without more ado. 
 There was no lack of amusement, I trow, and first I saw 
 the merchant Mallairt kneel down before my lord Dau- 
 phin, who received him graciously and thanked him 
 before us all, for his services to France." 
 
 The king frowned. " Services to France, forsooth ! 
 France indebted to a base trader. Christ's death ! my 
 cousin stoops too low ! Well, Roger what next ? " 
 
 " Then my lord Dauphin created the merchant Sieur 
 de Bretenais, bestowed a fair domain upon him, and 
 raised him from his knees with his own hand." 
 
 " Malediction ! " muttered the king, " this insult is aimed 
 at me, for it was this same Maillart brought the citizens 
 to obey young Guy de la Roche, shut the gates against 
 me and compassed the death of Marcel. De Mascon 
 
292 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 and Toussac were his victims too — his or his partisans, 
 and their blood that stained the very altar of St. Cath- 
 erine's church, cries out for vengeance, and now, to 
 reward the murderer of my friends ! But I know from 
 whose hand comes that affront. By the cross, cousin of 
 France, 'tis well I stood not by to see this scene so cun- 
 ningly devised for my humiliation i " His brow contracted 
 and his hands clenched, but he quickly recovered his 
 wonted self-control and said carelessly : " Our cousin is 
 generous, truly a gracious prince : and who stood near 
 him Roger ? " 
 
 " The lords of Coucy, la Rivifere, la Roche, and farther 
 off were the reverend bishop of Noyon, my lords of 
 Venduil, Chauny, and St. Pol, besides d'Ervand and 
 many other gentlemen. I marked not who they were." 
 
 "Didst see the new found niece of the marquis? he 
 has acknowledged her they say ! How did she bear her- 
 self among the proud dames of the court ? " 
 
 " Right well, sire, and as becomes a well-born daraosel. 
 The gentlemen surrounded her as though she held a court 
 herself. By my troth, she deserves much praise for 
 beauty, and she hath a wit would not bring shame on one 
 of my own land. Such ej'es, too ! " 
 
 " Waste not your time in thinking on her, Roger ; the 
 merchant's daughter soars a flight above thee now." 
 
 " In good faith," rejoined de Carmain, " it were but 
 folly for a poor Gascon gentleman to dream of her, even 
 though she were not already bespoken. They say she weds 
 with the vicomte d'Ervand within a fortnight ; and in God's 
 name, I well believe it, for she hath eyes but for him 
 alone." 
 
 " Soho," said the king, smiling. " How runs the 
 couplet ; — 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 293 
 
 ' Ah ! Dieux ! fait ele sire qui fis ciel et rousee, 
 Com est Berte ma fille richement mariee.' 
 
 And what of the count de la Roche ? Heardst thou 
 aught of him, my Roger ? " 
 
 " 'Tis whispered about that the sire de Coucy gives a 
 great revel at his castle in the vintage season. Some say 
 it is to be in honor of his daughter's nuptials with the 
 count. How the baron de Roye would rage, sire, were he 
 alive to hear this news." 
 
 " Yes,'' returned the king. " God defend us," he con- 
 tinued, crossing himself, " his was an evil star ! May his 
 soul have peace ! Well, Roger, what adventures befell 
 thee to-night ? " 
 
 " None, dear lord." 
 
 " What, of all my cousin's gentleman, was there not one 
 to provoke that hot spirit of thine, or hast thou curbed it 
 at last ? " 
 
 " In faith, sire, 'tis still an unmanaged steed. But God's 
 truth, I met with no encounter, save the challenge of some 
 score of bright eyes." 
 
 " Which you accepted, ha ? " 
 
 " Yes, sire, for the honor of Gascony, aod the confusion 
 of the English." 
 
 The king laughed. " Roger," said he, " thou under- 
 standest not state affairs ; but let it pass, thou sayest well, 
 and if the English beat us in the field, we Frenchmen are 
 their masters in the bower ; and so you met with no ad- 
 venture ? " 
 
 " No, sire. But beshrew me, I had well-nigh forgotten 
 that as we dismounted in the courtyard, a woman seized 
 my arm and begged to speak with you. I gave her to the 
 charge of de Mortery." 
 
 " Knowest thou who she is ? " 
 
294 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 " No, sire." 
 
 "She may wait. I have dismissed Mortery for the 
 night. Help me disrobe, good Roger, and do thou sleep 
 yonder in the ante-chamber. Mal<:e haste, or we shall 
 have brief time to rest, for we set forward toward Nor- 
 mandy by daybreak." 
 
 De Carmain, having assisted his master, was not sorr}' 
 to be at liberty to retire, and the profound silence that 
 soon reigned throughout the hotel, betokened that its in- 
 mates were wrapped in slumber. 
 
 The gray light of the morning was already stealing 
 through the windows of the king's apartment, when he 
 was suddenly awakened by a loud shriek and by the voice 
 of Roger de Carmain. Springing from his bed and grasp- 
 ing his dagger, Charles approached the door communicat- 
 ing with the next chamber. Upon the threshold stood 
 the Gascon leaning on his sword, and gazing sorrowfully 
 at a form stretched upon the floor at his feet. " Sire, 
 sire," said he, " I have slain a woman unwittingly. 
 Mother of God, would I had held my hand ! " 
 
 "What is done is done," returned Charles, coolly. 
 " How came she here ? " 
 
 " God's truth, sire, I cannot tell, for I awoke with a 
 start, and could see naught in the dusk but a tall figure 
 standing yonder wrapped in a cloak. I thought here is 
 an assassin seeking the king, and thrust with my sword ; 
 but blessed Lady of Mercy, forgive me ! I would have no 
 woman's blood on my sword — or my soul ! " 
 
 " Enough," said the king ; " cease thy wailing and lift 
 her up. Place her on yonder couch for she is not dead." 
 
 De Carmain obeyed, and, raising the woman as gently 
 as he could, he laid her upon the bed where he had slept, 
 and attempted to staunch the blopd. 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 295 
 
 The woman opened her eyes and motioned to him to 
 desist. He then knelt beside her. " I tliought you were 
 an assassin," he said; "surprise and the gloom of the 
 morning bewildered me — I could not tell that you were 
 but a woman. Pardon, pardon, mother, and in God's 
 name, let me staunch this blood that flows so fast ! " 
 
 She shook her head. " No, no," she gasped, " let it 
 flow ; but can him, let roe speak to him." 
 
 The king had returned to his apartment to prepare for 
 his journey, but de Carmain begged him to speak to the 
 dying woman, and he came to her bedside. It was now 
 light enough for him to distinguish the features of the 
 unfortunate victim of de Carmain's sword, and he in- 
 stantly recognized mad Blanche whom he had visited with 
 the baron de Roye. Her face was drawn with pain, and 
 her long hair dabbled with blood, but her eyes were still 
 bright as she fixed them on the king. " It is he," she 
 whispered, hoarsely ; " Oh ! he deceived me, he deceived 
 poor Blanche with his gentle voice. But why should he 
 care for my jewel, the one thing that I loved ? Why — I 
 can never remember. Yes, I thought to have it again, 
 but now I shall die. Is that the reason I am no longer 
 angry, and feel no hatred any more ? Did I dream 
 that the wicked lord hid my darling child in the cold pool 
 until she was white, so white, like the pale water-lilies ? 
 No, it is true, and I was well revenged." She closed her 
 eyes again, and the king turned away, but at the sound of 
 his footstep she suddenly started up. " Ah ! " she cried, 
 " I must tell him, I must." 
 
 " What would you say to me, good mother," asked 
 Charles, kindly. 
 
 " Did you not swear to give back my jewel ? " said 
 Blanche. " Yes, by life and death, and your oath is 
 
296 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 broken." She raised herself upon her elbow, and her 
 eyes were fixed and wild. " Listen," she said, " listen 
 and tremble, for the blood that runs so swiftly through 
 your veins shall soon creep sluggishly along; still you 
 shall live, but cold, yes deadly cold ! no warmth for you 
 but once again, once more. Yonder I see you wrapped 
 about with fine soft garments, but cold in the summer 
 noon, still cold before the blazing fire — you stretch your 
 arms out to feel the heat, and then, aha ! what then ? 
 Flames, flames that run along your arms, and dance 
 merrily upon your breast, and play about your head, and 
 kiss that false, smiling mouth ! When that day comes, re- 
 member — remember your broken oath." * 
 
 Her voice died away and she sank back lifeless. 
 
 Charles stood silent, gazing at the body, possessed by 
 a vague foreboding which made him shudder, and which 
 he sought in vain to overcome while the last words of 
 Blanche rang in his ears. 
 
 " God ! what a look the mad woman hath," he mut- 
 tered. " It makes my blood run cold to see her. Can it 
 be that one maybe damned for a broken oath? Fool 
 that I am to heed her words. A murrain on them, the 
 ravings of a crazy hag ! " 
 
 While he stood thus, a trumpet sounded from below; 
 still Charles remained at the bedside until de Carmain 
 ventured to remind him that it was time to join the gen- 
 tlemen of his train who were already on horseback. He 
 
 * Perhaps the reader may be interested in learning that the prediction of 
 Mad Blanche was almost literally fulfilled in the death of Charles le Mauvais, 
 kmg of Navarre. Presque tons les historiens Fran(ais racontent, quil s ^tait 
 fait envelopper dans des draps trempds dans I'esprit de vin— soit pour rean-i- 
 mer sa chaleur a£faiblie par les debauchds. 
 
 La feu prit aux draps tandis qiion les consait, et il fut brflld vif— un mort 
 cruelle et terrible ! (Dulaure, Hist d'Evrettx). 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 297 
 
 then commanded Roger to direct his servants who re- 
 mained behind to have Blanche decently interred by the 
 holy sisters of a neighboring convent, and descending 
 hastily to the courtyard, mounted his horse, exclaiming, 
 " We follow the road to Normandy, gentlemen. In God's 
 name, on to Evreux ! " 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Autumn was waning fast, and the forests had already 
 begun to clothe themselves in a sober livery of russet and 
 dull yellow, when a small cavalcade might have been seen 
 approaching Coucy castle. One of the foremost horse- 
 men was the sire de Coucy, a somewhat haughty looking 
 man of middle age, but withal a stately figure as he 
 reined in his horse and spoke to his companion, the 
 marquis de la Riviere. 
 
 " Shall we wait for these laggards ? " he asked, glancing 
 back at the riders who followed. 
 
 " Wind your horn and summon them, my lord," re- 
 plied the marquis. 
 
 De Coucy put his horn to his lips and sounded a hun- 
 ter's call. " St. Mary ! " he said, laughing, " that startles 
 them ! Make haste ! " he cried out as they came within 
 hearing, " a forfeit to him or her who reaches the castle 
 first ! Come, Marquis," and spurring forward, the entire 
 party arrived at the same moment and crossed the draw- 
 bridge together, pile mile. 
 
 " I claim the forfeit," cried the merry voice of Yolande 
 de Coucy. " Have I not won it fairly, Guy ? " she asked 
 turning to the count who had dismounted, and stood 
 ready to lift her from her horse. 
 
 " I must not decide between father and daughter ma 
 mie," said Guy smiling. 
 
 " You win it indeed ! " exclaimed de Coucy. " By my 
 troth, the marquis and I had already drawn bridle, and 
 
 298 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 299 
 
 taken breath when you came up. Claim what is thine, 
 my Yolande ! " 
 
 " By St. Mary ! and so I will, my father ! But here are 
 lady Jeanne d'Ervand and her husband, and since they 
 are our guests I demand the prize for them." 
 
 The vicomte laughed. " I fear," he said " that Jeanne 
 doth not deserve it, and as for me, gentle St. Genevieve ! 
 I was the last of all." 
 
 " Fie upon you, Vicomte ! and doth he so soon treat you 
 with discourtesy, my lady Jeanne ? " 
 
 " No, truly not," returned she, " and I shall forgive him 
 this first offence." 
 
 " Well," continued Yolande, " the marquis says noth- 
 ing ; he shall decide," and taking Jeanne's arm, they en- 
 tered the castle laughing as they went. 
 
 During the following week the castle presented a scene 
 of festivity and rejoicing. There was a constant succes- 
 sion of entertainments for the retainers, and for the vas- 
 sals from surrounding villages that owned fealty to the 
 sire de Coucy, and the chateau was filled with invited 
 guests. Hunting parties scoured the neighboring forests, 
 and merry troops of gentlemen and ladies pursued the 
 game that abounded along the margin of the Ailette, 
 where Yolande and Guy had met with so dangerous an 
 adventure. 
 
 Count Guy had not forgotten the jovial student, nor 
 was Robert Bonel forgotten : both were bidden to the 
 revels, and Lanard was in attendance upon his master. 
 The three friends enjoyed themselves hugely, each after 
 his own fashion. 
 
 Lanard looked at the castle from a military point of 
 view, Rolin found much to interest him in the precious 
 manuscripts which Bertrand displayed with love and 
 
300 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 pride, while it must be confessed, that Robert was lost in 
 admiration at the ease with which so many people were 
 served with food, and did not rest until he had thoroughly- 
 explored the kitchen, from which came such unfailing 
 abundance. The excellence of the castle wine, however, 
 was a theme about which all were eloquent, and they be- 
 took themselves, the evening before the wedding day, to 
 a small room where they thought they would be undis- 
 turbed, and sat down with an enormous wine jug before 
 them. 
 
 " Holy Virgin ! " said Robert, " to think that we should 
 be here as merry as mice. Why, it must be a delusion. 
 Surely this is the Cerf Blanc. But no, here we be in 
 Coucy, and the Provost is dead, and the baron de Roye. 
 Yes, and mistress Jeanne, no, I mean the noble 
 vicomtess d'Ervand is not mistress Jeanne, and her 
 father is not her father, no, master Maillart is not her 
 father — I mean the Sieur de Bretenais is not master 
 Maillart, and the count is to be married to-morrow, and — 
 may I be boiled alive in the devil's kitchen, if I know 
 what other things have come to pass, or whether I be in 
 a dream, for my head goes round and round ! " 
 
 " That comes of talking so long on an empty stomach," 
 said Lanard laughing, " 'Tis not more than two hours since 
 supper, and your tongue has wagged ever since without 
 ceasing. You did not eat enough to keep life in a bird : 
 two dishes of soup, well-nigh half a leg of mutton, a good 
 sized capon, all but the bones ; the best part of a pasty, 
 and some trifles of sweet things. Truly you must not live 
 on such slender fare, or we shall have to carry you back 
 to the Cerf Blanc on a litter." 
 
 Robert rolled his eyes in pretended dismay. "God 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 301 
 
 forbid ! " said he, " but I will mend my appetite to-mor- 
 row. Ho, friend Rolin, what are you thinking of ? " 
 
 " I ? only wondering who will mend the larder, if you 
 should mend your appetite." 
 
 " I can tell you. Master Rolin." 
 
 " Soho ! and who then .■' " asked the student, burying 
 his face in his wine cup. 
 
 "He" retorted Robert, "who fills anew the wine 
 casks you have drained since we came hither." 
 
 " A fair thrust," said Rolin, good-naturedly, " never- 
 theless I will prove that you deserve to be rebuked, 
 and I to be commended." 
 
 " If you do, I will eat your dagger ! " 
 
 " Prepare yourself for a sharp mouthful then, ani* be- 
 ware lest it stick in your throat." 
 
 " You will gain nothing, and lose a good weapon, " 
 said Lanard, "for I warrant that Robert will swallow 
 your dagger, hilt and all to whet his appetite." 
 
 " But the proof, comrade, the proof! " 
 
 "Well then," rejoined Rolin, " what excuse have you, 
 friend Robert, for making such a devil of an inroad upon 
 the castle larder } " 
 
 " I refuse to admit it, but what if I had — Holy Virgin i 
 a man must eat, and that larded capon, and the pasty, 
 it had been a sin not to taste them 1" 
 
 "Aha!" 
 
 " Wait," continued Bonel, " and besides I wanted to 
 describe them to Susanne." 
 
 " Oh, oh ! Then you sought to gratify your appetite, 
 and woman's curiosity : fine reasons truly ! Will you make 
 ready to keep your promise ? " 
 
 " That will I not, until I hear why you drink wine aa 
 the sand drinks rain." 
 
302 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 " Why, Robert, here is my excuse, and Lanard shall 
 judge if it be not a better one than yours. You see the 
 young count has not forgotten us and bids us welcome 
 to the revels : my word, he is a noble gentleman, and 
 never was fairer lady than she whom he weds to-morrow ! 
 Now mark you, I should be but an ungrateful dog, not 
 to drink their health as often as I can : and so, by St. 
 Genevifeve ! I lose no opportunity to pour out the purple 
 wine, offering libations to the gods, quaffing deep 
 draughts, and with each brimming cup praying the 
 august divinities who preside over earthly destinies, to 
 grant long life and health, honor and happiness, to the 
 noble count and his fair lady of Coucy. Must not 
 Robert try his teeth on steel, Lanard ? Art ready, Robert. 
 Give one good gulp, man, like the Saracen hound I once 
 saw — Faith, he made nothing of swallowing a knife as 
 long as my arm, two spear-heads and a sheaf of arrows." 
 
 " You must keep your promise, Robert," said Lanard. 
 
 " But 'tis an unjust decision. Holy Virgin ! I appeal 
 to my lord marquis." 
 
 " The devil ! then we must e'en let you escape this 
 time ; and so drink I say, drink to the happiness of all 
 lovers." 
 
 " Good luck and prosperity follow them," said Robert. 
 
 " Love and good wine," shouted Rolin. 
 
 " Love should be glowing, 
 Wine ever flowing.'' 
 
 " 'Tis a true word," cried Robert, wagging his head. 
 
 "As true as my sword," declared Lanard. 
 
 " Or the gospels," added Rolin, "for look you, com- 
 rades. The man who loves not,, and drinks not, is either 
 a hypocrite or a knave. By Cupid and Bacchus, he de- 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 303 
 
 servetli not to live in the world — let him go sit in a cave, 
 and bark at men who have blood in their veins 1 " 
 
 " May visions torment him ! " 
 
 " Let him starve in the dark ! " 
 
 " Or perish with thirst ! " 
 
 " Everlasting purgatory be his portion ! " 
 
 " To the devil with him 1 " 
 
 " Methinks you are in a merry mood, my masters. 
 Fair fortune to all here ! " 
 
 " And to thee," replied Rolin quickly. " Come in, 
 Master Bertrand, and stand not on the threshold : come 
 and crush a cup of wine with us ; thou art welcome, and 
 thrice welcome ! " 
 
 The physician shook his head as he answered : " I 
 am come to greet you from my lady, who by your leave 
 wishes to see you all." 
 
 Lanard rose to his feet, " Up friends ! " said he, " Lead 
 the way, gentle Master Bertrand, and we will follow." 
 
 The apartment to which Bertrand directed them was 
 richly, though not luxuriously furnished. A polished 
 table occupied the centre, the walls were covered with 
 silken hangings and the floor with Persian carpets. It 
 also contained one of those low couches, which from its 
 form and the peculiar texture of its covering must have 
 been brought from Constantinople ; a few carved, oaken 
 chairs and a cushioned foot-stool. There was something 
 indefinable about this room that Suggested the constant 
 presence of a woman, and the various articles scattered 
 carelessly about gave it no appearance of disorder. A 
 pair of gauntlets, a cloak lined with rose-colored satin 
 and a plumed riding-cap lay upon the table, as though 
 flung hastily down, and near them stood an open jewel 
 casket. A piece of unfinished embroidery here, a silken 
 
304 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 glove yonder, some flowers that had fallen to the floor ^ 
 and yet there was nothing displeasing to the eye, for a 
 portion of her own gracefulness and beauty appeared to 
 linger about whatever Yolande's hand had touched. She 
 was seated with Jeanne upon the couch, and the ladies 
 were talking gayly with the vicomte, when Bertrand and 
 his companions came in. The merchant, Jeanne's foster 
 father, had risen to take his leave, and the sire de Coucy 
 was engaged in earnest conversation with the marquis, 
 while count Guy stood a little apart caressing a favorite 
 greyhound, which fawned on him and leaping up, placed 
 his paws upon his shoulders. Putting the playful animal 
 gently down, Guy advanced quickly to the door saying : 
 « You are welcome, good friends, I trust we have not cut 
 short your merriment, but 'tis my lady's pleasure to speak 
 a word with you." 
 
 " A lady's pleasure must not be gainsayed, my lord," 
 replied Rolin, who then approached and saluted Jeanne 
 and Yolande. His companions followed his example, 
 although Robert hesitated and attempted to conceal him- 
 self behind the tall form of Lanard, who nudged him with 
 his elbow and growled out : " The devil ! canst not hold 
 up thy head like a man, but thou must needs hide behind 
 me ? " 
 
 Yolande perceived his embarrassment, and addressed 
 him kindly. " Good Master Bonel," she said, " why did 
 you not bring your wife with you, the pretty Susanne who 
 is such a famous housewife ? " 
 
 Robert bowed and stammered, but, gathering courage 
 at length, or inspired by the vigorous thrusts of Lanard's 
 elbow, succeeded in replying : " Susanne is over bashful, 
 noble madam, and feared to come, though she was well- 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 305 
 
 nigh wild with curiosity, so please you ; but Holy Virgin ! 
 I could not persuade her, do what I would ! " 
 
 " Oh what a lie, Robert ! " whispered Lanard in his 
 ear. 
 
 " Hold thy tongue," returned he, wiping his brow which 
 was bedewed with perspiration, and once more retreating 
 behind his companion, for Yolande had turned to the stu- 
 dent smiling as she said : — 
 
 " I have heard much of you, good master Rolin, and 
 hope you find it pleasant here at Coucy, though you of 
 the University love not to stray far from Paris I believe." 
 
 " True, madam, yet 'tis wondrous pleasant here, and 
 master Bertrand hath treated me with so much courtesy 
 that I owe him many thanks." 
 
 " Bertrand is ever courteous," replied Yolande glanc- 
 ing kindly at the old physician. " But I have heard that 
 you and good Lanard yonder often amuse yourselves with 
 songs. Will you not sing for us before you go ? " 
 
 " Madam," rejoined the student, "your wishes are com- 
 mands, but our songs are rude enough, and I scarce re- 
 member one would please you." 
 
 " Then sing one that will not please me," said she 
 gayly. 
 
 "Gentle St. Genevibve aid me ! " thought Rolin, who 
 bowed, and after a moment's reflection sang the follow- 
 ing : 
 
 " Premier est Paris amentue, 
 Qui est du monde la raeillour. 
 Si, li doit on porter hounnour : 
 Apres parlerai de Provins, 
 Apris Rouen en Normandie — 
 yiaxs premier est la belle Paris. 
 En mon escrit 
 Je vous mis apres Jesus Christ 
 
306 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 Ma belle amie, 
 Ma chfere Paris I " * 
 
 " This should please you who are a true little Pari- 
 sienne,'' said Yolande to Jeanne. 
 
 " Yes,'' she replied smiling, " and so it doth. 1 give you 
 thanks, Master Rolin. And now, dear lady Yolande, shall 
 we not hear Lanard ? " The latter made no excuses, but 
 complied instantly, and sang in a well modulated and 
 mellow voice : 
 
 " Black eyes and blue eyes, brown eyes or gray, 
 (Glance for glance should not be strange) 
 Meet us and greet us every day, 
 Love for love is a fair exchange I 
 Love for love, but the lips we greet 
 Should smile and tremble, be warm and sweet. 
 Cold lips and smiles are not for me. 
 Love for love is my creed pardie 1 " 
 
 Yolande clapped her hands and smiled. " Well done," 
 she said, " I thank you all, and wish you a fair good 
 night." 
 
 Lanard and his friends then returned to the room they 
 had left, and sat far into the night singing, jesting, and 
 drinking innumerable healths to count Guy and Yolande. 
 It was growing late, Jeanne beckoned her husband away, 
 the sire de Coucy had already accompanied the marquis 
 to his chamber, and the noise in the great hall below an- 
 nounced that the guests were preparing to retire. The 
 rustling of robes upon the stairs, whispers and suppressed 
 laughter were heard as the revellers separated, and sought 
 their different apartments. Yolande and Guy were left 
 alone to say good night. 
 
 * A f rapfment of a Frencli song- of the thirteenth century, in praise of the 
 various cities represented at the Landit fair of St. Denys. 
 
BEFORE THE DAWN. 307 
 
 One long look into the depths of violet eyes glowing 
 with a mysterious light that dazzles him, a pair of white 
 arms about his neck, a swift wave of colorfloodinga throat 
 and face pressed close to his. 
 
 " 'Tis long until to-morrow, dear, but it will come at 
 last, and then, my own Yolande. Ah, then will dawn a 
 new life of joy and wondrous happiness for me. Until 
 to-morrow, love ! " 
 
 The passionate tender tones find an echo in her soul, 
 and her heart is beating in quick response to his, while 
 she murmurs : " To-morrow, dear Guy. Ah, yes, to- 
 morrow and forever ! " 
 
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