Corse de Leon; or, The Brigand: A Romance. Volume 1 (of 2), Page 4

  CHAPTER IV.

  "At length! at length! Bernard," said the voice of the young lady; andthe heart of Bernard de Rohan echoed the words "At length! at length!"as he pressed her hand in his.

  "At length! at length! Bernard," she said, "you have come back to me."

  "Did you not send me from you yourself, Isabel?" he said, thinking therewas something almost reproachful in her tone. "And have I not returnedthe moment you told me I might; the moment you called me to aid, and, Itrust, to deliver you? Would I ever have quitted you but at your ownword?"

  "It is true! it is all true!" she said, in a gentle tone: "but I knewnot, dear Bernard, all that was to befall me; all the painful, theanxious circumstances in which I was to be placed. We were then tooyoung, far too young, for me to press my father's promise. I had noright to rob you of so many years of glory. My brother, too, wantedprotection and guidance in the field. At that time, everything lookedbright, and I thought that you, Bernard, would lead him forth to honourand bring him back in safety. I knew you would, and you have done it.But in those days I little dreamed that my mother, in her widowhood,would willingly wed a stranger, and make her hand the hire of thisSavoyard, to serve the cause of France against his native prince. Butyou have returned to me, Bernard," she continued, in a more joyful tone;"you have returned to me, and all will be well again."

  So ever thinks the inexperienced heart of youth, when, even for a singlemoment, the dark clouds break away, and a ray of sunshine, howevertransient, brightens up a day of storms.

  "Be not too sure of that, lady!" said the deep voice of the brigand; "benot too sure of that! There have been more dangers around you alreadythan you know of. They have not yet passed away, and, perchance, mayfall upon him as well as you."

  "Heaven forbid!" she cried, turning her eyes first upon the countenanceof the man who spoke, and then with a softer and a tenderer look uponher lover. "If it is to be so, I shall wish you back again, Bernard."

  "Not so," said the brigand, "not so! We are fools to think that life isto be a bright day, uncheckered with storms or misfortunes. There is butone summer in the year, lady: the winter is as long; the autumn has itsfrosts and its sear leaves; and the spring its cold winds and itsweeping skies. In the life of any one the bright portion is but small,and he must have his share of dangers and sorrows as well as the rest.They will be lighter if you share them, and if he shares yours. Let usgo forward on our way, however. Will you mount one of these horses,baron, or walk by the lady's side? Oh, walk, will you? Then follow theonward path. We will come on some hundred yards behind, near enough toguard you, but not to interrupt."

  Bernard de Rohan and the lady proceeded on their way. Nor did they failto take advantage of the moments thus afforded for conversing alone,though no one in such circumstances does take sufficient advantage ofthe moments. Our minds are so full of thoughts, our hearts so full offeelings, that they crowd and confuse each other in seeking to maketheir way forth. But a small part is ever spoken of that which might bespoken; and, had the time of their journey been more than doubled, therewould still have been questions to ask, and plans to arrange, and hopes,and wishes, and fears to express; and Love, too, would have had a worldto tell and to hear; and many a caress would have remained to be given,and many a vow would yet have required to be renewed.

  Thus, when at length, after advancing for nearly two hours, severaldistant lights were seen upon the side of a dark hill beyond, as ifissuing from the windows of some building, they found that they had notsaid half that they might have said, and wished that the minutes couldcome over again. It is not, indeed, in such circumstances alone that mancasts away opportunities. It is all his life long, and every moment ofhis life. Those opportunities are like the beautiful wild flowers thatblossom in every meadow and in every hedge, while, heedless or careless,unseeing or unknowing, man passes them by continually, or walks upon hisway, and tramples them under his feet.

  When they reached that spot, however, and the castle of Masseran wasbefore their eyes, the brigand came up at a quick pace, saying, "Let uspause a moment, and see whether our companions have arrived before us.It might be dangerous for his deliverers to come too near the Lord ofMasseran's gates without sufficient numbers."

  As he thus spoke, he put the peculiar whistle which he carried to hislips, producing a lower sound than before, but sufficiently loud to beheard around, and call forth many an answer up to the very gates of thecastle itself.

  "They are here," continued the brigand, "and the good lord is in hishold. Now, lady, you have doubtless promised things which you may findit difficult to perform. You have promised to see this noble cavalier,and give him--if needs must be, by stealth--the happiness of yourpresence; but I know better than you do how things will befall you. Youwill be watched; you will never be suffered to leave that castle's gateswithout a train, which will cut you off from speaking with any one. Thegardens of the castle, however, will doubtless be free, for the wallsare high, the gates securely locked, and the way up to them watched.Nevertheless, there is the small postern in the corner of the lowestterrace, hid by a tall yew-tree: lay your hand upon the handle of thelock at any time of the day you please. If it open not at the firsttrial, wait a moment, and try it again. You shall never try it threetimes without finding that door give way to your hand."

  "But he tells me," said the lady, speaking more directly to what waspassing in the brigand's thoughts than to what he actually expressed,"but he tells me that he is actually on his way to visit my mother'shusband, charged with messages of import to him from the noble Marquisof Brissac, and that to-morrow morning he will be there, openlydemanding admittance."

  "See him in the evening also, lady, whatever befall," replied the other."There are more dangers round you than you wot of. But I will speak tohim farther as we return. Now you had better go on."

  A few minutes more brought them nearly to the gates of the castle. Thebrigand had remained behind to wait the coming up of his people. Bernardde Rohan turned to see if they were approaching; but he could nowperceive no one upon the road but a single figure coming slowly on atsome distance, and leading a horse by the bridle. It was a moment not tobe lost. Once more he threw his arms round the lady beside him, and shebent her head till their lips met. There were no farther words betweenthem but a few unconnected names of tenderness, and in a minute or twoafter they were joined by the wounded servant, who had remained behindwith the lady and those who accompanied her when the Lord of Masseranand the rest were sent on.

  "Ah! my lord," he said, looking wistfully in the face of the youngcavalier, "you have forgotten me, but I have not forgotten you; and ifit had not been for my love and duty to my young mistress, I would havebeen with you in Italy long ago, especially when the countess soldherself to her stranger husband."

  "No, indeed, Henriot, I have not forgotten you," replied Bernard deRohan; "and I beseech you, for love of me as well as your youngmistress, stay with her still, and be ever near her. I much doubt thisLord of Masseran, and have heard no little evil of him. She may wanthelp in moments of need, and none can give her better aid than yourself;but I fear you have been much hurt," he added, "for you walk feebly evennow."

  "It will soon pass, my lord," replied the man; "but I see a light at thegate: we had better go on quickly, if, as I judge, you would not berecognised."

  Bernard de Rohan took one more embrace, and then parted with her heloved. He paused upon the road till, by the light which still shone fromthe gate of the castle, he saw her and her follower enter and disappearbeneath the low-browed arch. He then turned away, and retrod his stepsalong the side of the hill. He was left to do so for some way insolitude, though he doubted not that the hillside and the valley belowhim were both much more replete with human life than they seemed to be.At the distance of little more than half a mile from the castle he wasforced to pause, for the moon had now sunk behind the mountain, andthere were two roads, one branching to either hand.

  "Keep to the right," said a deep voice near him
, as he stopped to choosehis path; and the next moment the brigand, coming forth from the bushesamong which he had been sitting, walked on upon his way beside him.

  "Ours is a busy life, you see," he said; "but yet it is not every nightthat we have so much business to do as we have had lately."

  "Nor, I should think," replied Bernard de Rohan, "is it every night thatyou have upon your hands business which can leave so much satisfactionbehind."

  "I know not," answered the brigand, "and yet, in some sort, what you sayis true. For I have had pleasure in what I have done: I have hadpleasure in serving that bright lady; why, it matters not: I have hadpleasure in serving you; why, it matters not: I have had pleasure infrustrating a base and villanous scheme; why, it matters not. But youmust not think, baron, that in the ordinary business of my everyday lifethere are any of those weak thoughts about me which poison itsenjoyments and make the memory of each day bitter. You and I aredifferent beings, born for a different course."

  "We are both men," said Bernard de Rohan.

  "Ay!" answered the brigand; "and so are the dove and falcon both birds.As well might that dove think that the life of the falcon must bemiserable because it is a bird of prey, as you judge of my feelings byyour own. I am a bird of prey; I am the brother of the eagle on therock. Our joys and our pursuits are the same; and they leave no moreregret with me than they do with that eagle, when he folds his wings inhis eyrie after the day's chase is done."

  The comparison was one which, as Bernard de Rohan very well understood,was pleasant and satisfactory to his companion's feelings, but he couldnot admit its justice to any great extent. He cared not to point out,however, where it failed, and merely replied, "But there is a differencebetween men and brutes. Man has his reason to guide him, and must begoverned by laws. The eagle has no law but the instinct which God hasgiven him."

  "Is not God's law the best?" exclaimed the brigand. "God gave the eaglehis law, and therefore that law is right. It is because man's law is notGod's law that I stand here upon the mountain. Were laws equal and just,there would be few found to resist them. While they are unequal andunjust, the poor-hearted may submit and tremble; the powerless may yieldand suffer: the bold, the free, the strong, and the determined fall backupon the law of God, and wage war against the injustice of man. If youand I, baron," he continued, growing excited with the heat of hisargument, "if you and I were to stand before a court of human justice,as it is called, pleading the same cause, accused of the same acts,would our trial be the same, our sentence, our punishment? No! all wouldbe different; and why? Because you are Bernard de Rohan, a wealthy baronof the land, and I am none. A name would make the difference. A merename would bring the sword on my head and leave yours unwounded. If soit be, I say--if such be the world's equity, I set up a retribution formyself. I raise a kingdom in the passes of these mountains: a kingdomwhere all the privileges of earth are reversed. Here, under my law, thenoble, and the rich, and the proud are those that must bow down andsuffer; the poor, and the humble, and the good those that haveprotection and immunity. Go ask in the peasant's cottage: visit the goodpastor's fireside: inquire of the shepherd of the mountain, or thefarmer on the plains. Go ask them, I say, if under the sword of Corse deLeon they lose a sheep from their flock or a sheaf from their field. Goask them if, when the tyrant of the castle--the lawless tyrant; or thetyrant of the city--the lawful tyrant, plunders their property, insultstheir lowliness, grinds the face of the poor, or wrings the heart of themeek, ask them, I say, if there is not retribution to be found in themidnight court of Corse de Leon, if there is not punishment and justicepoured forth even upon the privileged heads above."

  Bernard de Rohan felt that it would be useless to argue with him; for itwas evident that he was not one of those who are doubtful or wavering inthe course they pursue. There was some truth, too, in what the man said:truth which Bernard de Rohan ventured to admit to his own heart, even inthat age, when such sentiments could only be looked upon as treasonable.He was silent, then, considering how to reply, when the brigand himselfwent on.

  "Think not," he continued, "that I have chosen my part without deepthought. There are some--and perhaps you think me one of them--who aredriven by circumstances, led by their passions, or their follies, ortheir vices, to a state of opposition with the rest of mankind, and whothen, when cast out from society, find a thousand specious reasons forwarring against it. But such is not my case. Ever since my youth havesuch things been dwelling in my mind. I had pondered them long. I hadfully made up my mind as to what was right and what was wrong, yearsbefore injustice and iniquity--years before the insolence of privilegedtyranny drove me forth to practise what I had long proposed. Here Iexercise the right that is in man. I take the brown game upon themountain, which is mine as much as that of any noble in the land. I payno tax to king or to collector. There is no duty on the wine I drink.There is no toll upon the roads I follow. You will say that I do morethan this: that I take from others what is not mine and what is theirs;but I have told you why I do so. They have taken from me what was nottheirs; and I wage war against a world which first waged war against me;in which, even among themselves, the hand of every one is against hisbrother; in which, whether it be in camp, or court, or city, or mart, orchurch, injustice and iniquity are striving to snatch from one anotherthe rod of oppression, and keep the humble beneath their own yoke."

  "I cannot think," replied Bernard de Rohan, willing to answer asgenerally as possible, "I cannot think that the state of society is soterrible as you represent it. There may be occasional instances ofcorruption and oppression, and doubtless there are. I have seen somemyself, and endeavoured to prevent them; but still these things are byno means general."

  "Not general!" exclaimed the brigand, turning upon him almost fiercely."Sir Baron, I say they are universal. There are one or two exceptions,it is true. You are one of those exceptions yourself. You are one ofthose who deserve to be convinced; and I can convince you. I can showyou men who pretend to be holy, and humble, and good, oppressing mostbasely those who are in their power. I can show you tyranny andinjustice at every step and in every station throughout the earth, fromthe tradesman's shop to the monarch's throne. I can show it to you inevery garb, and in every profession, and in every place. I can, ay, andwill show it to you, within these twelve months, in such forms ofcruelty and blood that you shall say the brigand on the hillside is mildcompared with the man of courts or the man of refectories; that he maybe an eagle, but that these are vultures."

  "I see not," replied Bernard de Rohan, with a smile, "I see not how youcan show me all this. You forget that we shall most likely part here inSavoy. That, as soon as I can rescue Mademoiselle de Brienne from thesituation in which she is placed, I shall hasten onward to my owncountry, and we shall most likely never meet again."

  "Not so, not so," replied the brigand. "We shall meet again. Either withher or without her, you must, as you say, go thither soon. My steps arebound likewise towards France; for think not that I dwell always here,or appear always thus: were it so, my head would soon be over the gateof Chamberry. I will find means to show you a part of what I have said,perhaps to give you some assistance likewise, when you most need andleast expect it. But remember," he added, "if misfortunes should befallme, or danger threaten me, it is a part of our compact that you do notstrive to give me any aid; that you neither raise your voice nor yourarm in my behalf."

  "Nay, nay," replied Bernard de Rohan, "I cannot promise that. I mustever remember the generous assistance you have afforded me this night,and must do my best to prove that I am grateful for it."

  "The best way of proving it," replied the brigand, "is by doing what Iask you. You are held wise for a young man: now ask yourself if you canjudge so well of what is for my advantage as I can judge myself. I tellyou that I have many means of deliverance which you know nothing of;and, therefore, any attempt to aid me, without my asking you, might ruinme and ruin yourself likewise."

  "If you will ask me," replied Bernard de Rohan
, "when aid can beserviceable to you, I shall be contented."

  "I will, I will," answered the brigand; "and now tell me, What have youarranged with fair Isabel of Brienne? for I take an interest in yourfate and hers."

  "You seem indeed to do so," replied the young cavalier; "and yet I knownot why it should be so, for I cannot remember that we ever met before."

  "Once," replied the brigand, "only once. Several years ago we were sideby side, but for a moment. You and I, and that fair girl, and herbrother--her brother, the young Count Henry, who is now in Paris. It wasbut for a moment, but that moment was one by me never to be forgotten."

  "I cannot recall it," replied Bernard de Rohan. "It is strange, too, ifit was a moment of such importance. But you say that her brother is inParis: I wrote to Henry to meet me in Grenoble, and I think he must bethere by this time."

  "Oh! he is in Paris still," replied the other. "He is a good youth; buthe is weak and young--ay, younger than his years. He will be easilypersuaded to stay in Paris, and flutter in bright silks, and flaunt attournaments, run at the ring, or fence at Moors' heads upon a turningpole. He is at Paris still, depend upon it; and, if you count upon hiscoming ere you claim the lady's hand, you must seek him in the capital,and bring him with you."

  "I shall demand her hand at once," replied Bernard de Rohan; "but wedoubt that there will be opposition from one who has no right to makeit; and, to bear down that opposition, Henry de Brienne must be with me.He is the guardian of his father's promise solemnly given to me before Ifirst went to Italy. But I will write to him as soon as day breaksto-morrow. Hark! do you not hear voices coming up the pass?"

  "Most likely your servants and the priest," replied the brigand.

  "I wonder they have not joined us before," replied Bernard de Rohan. "Weshould have fared ill if their assistance had been all we had to trustto."

  "They could not do better," replied the brigand. "The other party hadcaught a sight of us when you stood to argue with me at the corner ofthe rock, and they broke down the little wooden bridge behind them. Yourservants know none of the paths; the priest knows not that which wetook; so doubtless, by this time, they think that we are hewed intomincemeat. However, remember at that spot, by the broken bridge, a loudhalloo, a blast of your horn, or a whistle thrice repeated, will at anytime bring some one to you who can lead you to me should you want myassistance. Now, jolly priest, now," he added, raising his voice, "herewe are safe, though no great thanks to you."

  "If you are safe, and sound, and sober," said the priest, coming up withthe attendants of Bernard de Rohan, "it is more than I expected; for wecould not reach you for our lives; and as we were scrambling over thehills, and each losing his way according to his fancy, we heard as muchnoise as at a boor's wedding, though the concert was somewhat different.But now let us hasten back as fast as possible: why, we are a league anda half from the inn, and I shall be so hoarse with shouting and thenight air that I shall not be able to sing matins."