The cry was taken up by Lemasle and his followers in the hall, and immediately was roared along the corridors, now filled with the men who had followed Pierre Briant into the court-yard. It was no uncertain sound, and not a dissentient voice made itself heard. Even Felix remained silent, and he remembered with sudden fear how Jean had spoken of a Count once who was hanged over the great gate.
"It is the voice of the people," said Father Bertrand, standing by the chair of state in which every Duke of Montvilliers had been crowned. "Roger Herrick, I demand by what right you claim to ascend this throne."
"By right of birth," he answered, his eyes upon Christine.
"Roger Herrick, I charge you, is there any reason known to you which makes your claim a false one?"
"There is no reason," he answered, still with his eyes upon Christine.
"Roger Herrick, do you swear to govern this land according to the same laws of right and liberty by which it has heretofore been governed, and to hold the welfare of your people as a sacred trust?"
"I swear to do this," said Herrick, and then facing the excited crowd he cried: "Is there any here who would question me?"
The sudden silence remained unbroken, and with a firm step Herrick ascended the dais, and seated himself in the chair.
"Roger Herrick, I crown you Duke of Montvilliers," said Father Bertrand in a loud voice, placing the golden circle upon his head.
"Presently in St. Etienne must you wear the iron crown, and there receive Heaven"s blessing upon this high estate to which you are called."
Then once again the roar went up from a mult.i.tude of throats: "Long live Roger the Duke! Long live the Duke!" And an instant later came the first angry growl. "Down with Felix! Death to the Count!"
The Countess Elisabeth with a sharp cry sprang to Felix"s side.
Christine did not move, but she looked at Herrick as though she wondered to what lengths he would go in the pursuit of his ambition.
The Count"s death seemed only the natural sequence to the events of that night.
Herrick sprang to his feet.
"Stop!" he cried, and he looked a leader of men as he stood there, his arm outstretched in command. "Stop! No revenge shall have my sanction.
Count Felix may yet live to make a good subject. All we need guard against is his becoming a dangerous rebel. You are free, Count, only for a term you must limit your freedom to Vayenne. You are not permitted to leave the city nor to enter the castle. Lemasle, see that the Count has safe conduct through the streets."
The Countess touched Felix on the arm. Whether she believed what had been said of him or not, this was not the time to desert him. Felix bowed his head, and they pa.s.sed out of the hall together. It would have gone hard with the Count in the corridors and court-yard but for the men who marched beside him to the gate and presently escorted his carriage to the Place Beauvoisin.
"My lords, I would not ask too much of you," said Herrick, when Felix and the Countess Elisabeth had gone. "Here is no trap to catch your loyalty and obedience. You were not bid to my coronation; those who will are free to depart. No harm shall be done you in Vayenne, only within seven days shall you promise me service, or you will be reckoned amongst my enemies."
There was a pause, and then an old man stepped forward.
"My Lord Duke, I have ever been a loyal servant to my country. My name is amongst the oldest in the land, and, therefore, it becomes me, perhaps, to give words to what many here must feel. This that has happened to-night has come without warning. You are a stranger to us, and we cannot know whether all that we have heard to-night, either of yourself or of Count Felix, is true, or whether there is not something held back from our knowledge which might give a different complexion to this affair. It is only just, therefore, that we have time for consideration, only just that no suspicion should fall upon us though we do not bow the knee and take oaths upon us to-night."
"Your contention is reasonable," Herrick answered. "I have given you seven days."
"I would be the first to wish your Grace long life, and herewith I proffer my service," said de Bornais, kneeling for a moment at the foot of the dais.
A few followed his example, some honestly enough, since they hated the Count, others making haste to put themselves forward prominently. But the greater number chose to take the seven days for consideration, and pa.s.sed from the hall without kneeling.
De Bornais and his men, still with swords drawn, stood round the dais, the Duke"s guard of honor, as the hall slowly emptied. Gaspard Lemasle had cleared the corridors, with the promise that the Duke should come presently on to the terrace above the court-yard and speak to his loyal subjects. The n.o.bles pa.s.sed to their lodgings in the castle, or waited in ante-rooms until they could be taken through the streets in safety. The murmur of the great crowd, like the distant ocean breaking on a rock-bound sh.o.r.e, could still be heard, but the excitement had died down. The thing that these men had come to do was accomplished.
Jean leaped from the embrasure of the window, and, waddling across the hall, seated himself on the lowest step of the dais, close to where Christine still stood immovable.
"Has Mademoiselle de Liancourt no word for us?" said Herrick, when the last of the n.o.bles had gone.
She started at the sound of her name, but she did not speak.
"You gave us a certain promise, mademoiselle, which I warned you it would be hard to fulfil."
"So hard, sir, that it has already pa.s.sed from my memory," she said.
"I feared so," Herrick returned quietly. "Later, perhaps, you will understand. Mademoiselle, with you I make no bargain. Take time for consideration, as long as you will. Though you hate me, I swear never to number you among my enemies."
"I understand," she said, turning to him quickly, "and I want no time for consideration. I shall never recognize your t.i.tle to sit on the throne of Montvilliers. You have cleverly realized your ambition, and in a measure I have unwittingly helped you to it. Count me as you will, but I make no secret of my enmity. It shall last to the end, and those who plot against you shall find me a willing tool. It is not for nothing that I have loved this land, for the good of it I am prepared for any sacrifice, and am I, Christine de Liancourt, to bend the knee to an English adventurer, who, with the help of a fool and a mob and his own mother-wit, seizes the throne? To-night madness has run riot, the reaction has to come, and be very sure it will come. What real value is the support of a mob? To-day it shouts for you, to-morrow it will as easily shout for another. Live out your little dream, I promise you a rude awakening. To-night is yours, and I bow to circ.u.mstances which give you power to-night. Have I your leave to depart?"
"Whither, lady?"
She looked at him defiantly.
"Though we have sworn never to count you amongst our enemies, we are not ignorant of the power of so fair a rebel. There was an order issued by Count Felix that Mademoiselle de Liancourt was not to be allowed out of the castle, that order I endorse."
"Am I a prisoner?" she asked.
"No mademoiselle; an honored guest in my Castle of Vayenne. De Bornais, I deliver our guest into your keeping. And, Lemasle, see that the pa.s.sword is changed presently. "Obedience and trust" have little meaning."
Christine looked at Herrick once swiftly, and then pa.s.sed out of the hall, followed by de Bornais and his men. Herrick, the golden circle upon his brow, leaned back in his chair like a tired man. Father Bertrand stood beside him. Lemasle stood at the foot of the dais, and Jean sat on the lowest step. They were alone.
"You look too glum for a successful man, friend Roger," said the dwarf.
"Success leaves a bitter taste upon my lips."
"It will pa.s.s with morning," said the priest.
"It shall last to the end," said Herrick, repeating Christine"s words.
"I fear you have been too lenient," said Lemasle, letting his sword fall with a rattle into its scabbard.
"He, at least, has found the payment sufficiently high," said Jean, and the bells on his bauble jingled as he pointed it at the dead body of Captain Barbier.
CHAPTER XIX
A CHANGED MAN
The conviction that the new Duke had been too lenient was more firmly impressed upon Gaspard Lemasle each day, each hour almost. In the captain"s conception of life and duty there was much that was primitive; a blow for a blow, treachery for treachery, seemed to him amongst the first laws of existence. Failure would have meant certain death to the conspirators, success naturally ought to mean death to those against whom they had conspired, to Count Felix and all who had aided him.
"A man who holds his power at the hands of the mob cannot afford to be lenient," he said to Jean.
"Is that friend Roger"s case?" said the dwarf.
"At present, yes. The few soldiers we can command would hardly serve to crush an organized rising in the Count"s favor. I would he were dead."