theory, for those who seek farther, of pressure brought to bear on a young girl's inclination through the secret practices of the torture-chamber which are not yet obsolete, it is pretended, and were certainly efficacious in Catherine's hands. "I scarcely dared speak to the queen, my mother," writes Marguerite of Valois, referring to her childhood; "and when she looked at me I trembled lest I might have done something to displease her."

But to

resume our Carloix, who, after all, holds the only possible clue to the mystery, if mystery there be.

It befell in the winter of 1556, by an inclement season and roads deep in snow, that the Sire de Vieilleville, future marshal of France and father of the sisters Marguerite and Philomèle, was on his way up from Metz, where he held the post of military governor, to pay his court at Saint Germains. With him rode a certain young Provençal, De Saulx, or Sault, by name, of the illustrious stock of the SaulxTavannes, who had served under the said Seigneur through the memorable siege of Metz (the glory of French arms), and been enabled to verify the true temper of his steel, not in action only but also in idleness, which sometimes the severer test.

is

So it came to pass that, as these two were conversing by the way, the elder let drop a discreet hint to the purport that his second daughter, Philomèle (then enrolled among the queen's maids), had not yet been promised in marriage, and was not, perchance, beyond the reach of one who, like his young friend, stood well in the sight of honor and in the estimation of M. de Vieilleville.

You may be sure that this young gentleman could hardly believe his ears at first, so incredible seemed his good fortune. But finding they had not deceived him he jumped from his horse, and falling on his knees at his companion's stirrup swore, then and there, eternal gratitude, love, and obedience. In such amicable accord and good understanding the travellers ar

pres

rived at Saint Germains; and ently, when Mademoiselle de Vieilleville, accompanied by the governess of the queen's maids, came in to salute her father, behold at his elbow a dashing young gallant, smiling and blushing and bowing to the ground, whose pretensions were as much in evidence as the feathers in his bonnet, of which he displayed an amazing profusion.

Thenceforth the queen's presencechamber knew no more assiduous dangler than M. le Comte de Saulx. Nor was one ever better received by its laughter-loving, sweet-toothed inmates, among whom he scattered his sweet words and sweetmeats with equal success. Whether he was fortunate in winning the smiles of his shy young mistress history sayeth not, though 'tis on record that more than one would right willingly have changed places with her. It only remained for the gallant Provençal to show his address in those games of skill and athletic sports which were as much the rage of that day as of our own, and a sure road to court-favor. And this he did not fail to achieve, carrying off the prize three times out of five; besides leading the dance at a court-ball with so much grace, spirit, and agility that crowds followed him about, and a new figure, adapted from the farandole of his native Provence, had a prodigious run, and was long known under the title of La Volte de Sault.

In this manner the months of December and January sped merrily along to the satisfaction of all. But early in February important affairs, connected with a great land-suit which was then pending, called M. de Vieilleville up to Paris, and upon him, as by duty and courtesy bound, attended his future son-in-law. They were not detained long, thanks to his Majesty's letter of recommendation and other potent influences which the seigneur was enabled to bring to bear on the law's delay; yet brief as was this interval, scarce more than a fortnight, it took no longer to overcast our lover's fair prospect, and scatter the

to

In plain prose a rival had seized the occasion to steal a march upon him, one Duilly by name, of the noble house of Châtelet (my Lord High-Seneschal of Lorraine's eldest son), who, with his father and a crowd of Lorraine gentlemen, had fellowed M. de Vaudemont when he came up to Saint Germains to fulfil his marriage contract with the Demoiselle de Nemours. Now Messieurs Châtelet, father and son, had long cast covetous eyes on the Vieilleville connection, being fully cognizant of its value. Resolved to win by fair means or foul they were not above availing themselves of Sire Renard's arts, and after quitting Lorraine, travelled out of their way Metz, where, in all honor and tranquillity, resided the Dame de Vieilleville during her husband's absence. To this lady, with a thousand respectful observances and complimentary speeches, my Lord Seneschal broached his project of a match between their children, asserting that M. de Vieilleville had already given it his sanction and promise of a settlement so soon as they should meet at court, whither he and his son were journeying with that object in view. Before going further, however, he had desired to consult the wishes of madam herself, feeling persuaded that the mothers prerogative in an affair of marriage was no less cogent than that of the father. It was a sentiment which did M. le Senechal

honor, and could not fail to ingratiate him with the good lady; all the more, perhaps, as it was one which that illustrious seigneur, her spouse, does not appear to have shared. In fact, so little uxorious (we imitate the Lord Servitor's wise discretion) was the said seigneur in his conjugal relations that hitherto he had not deemed it necessary to take madam into his confidence with regard to M. de Saulx. This poor lady, it would seem, was the very last to be informed of news which had already travelled as far as Lorraine; and small blame to her, say we, for the error she fell into, either

little natural spirit of retaliation. Certain it is that she lent a willing ear to her neighbor's proposal; and at parting young Duilly was suffered to carry away with him a letter of introduction to her daughter, wherein his admirable qualities and the mother's high appreciation were categorically set forth.

The young gentleman now lost no time in hastening up to court, where he arrived at the opportune moment of M. de Vieilleville's absence, and proceeded to drive his suit at a furious pace. That old fox, his father, meanwhile, was no less busy currying favor among the great, notably in the Lorraine coterie of which Mademoiselle de Nemours made one at present, and would have been delighted to secure Vieilleville's company on her approaching wedding-journey. Meeting this latter one day in the queen's apartment the gay young bride асcosted her by the name of "milk-sister” (the two having fed at the same board for upwards of four years), and called out to her in a merry voice, so as to be heard by all, that when in doubt a maid could not do better than give the preference to Lorraine, for there were no husbands so good as those that came out of that countrywitness, her own choice; nor was any road so pleasant to travel in the springtime of the year as the one that led thither.

Thus it was that Dame Fortune, who relishes nothing better than upsetting lovers' calculations, played her cruel trick upon M. de Saulx. But faint heart never yet won fair lady, and, quickly rallying, the Provençal threw himself into the breach with all imaginable ardor. Justice and honor were both ranged on his side, supported by а father's authority; whereas M. de Duilly relied solely on the mother, whose letter he had taken the precaution of opening before delivery and been greatly encouraged by its perusal.

Carnival was now approaching, and the gay world a-gog as usual for

merry-making. Balls,

masques,

tilt ings, and tournaments were the order of the day, and the gallant part played in each by Mademoiselle de Vieilleville's brave suitors soon divided this joyous court into two camps, one favoring Provence, the other crying up Lorraine. Like many of his countrymen (including the great family of Guise) M. de Duilly was of a fair complexion, yet withal tall, well-shaped, and hardy with the best. His cool address and self-possession in moments of emergency offered a striking contrast to the fire of his southern rival, which seemed destined to win if only by irresistible impetuosity. Howbeit on more than one occasion it happened that Lorraine proved his match, even in the tiltyard, where De Saulx had hitherto carried everything before him. In like manner La Volte de Sault suffered something of an eclipse through the popularity of a new dance, entitled Bransles du Haut-Barrois, in which M. de Duilly figured to the admiration of all.

"These two determined competitors," observes Maître Carloix, "were rivals by nature as much as by circumstance. They continually spurred one another on to greater effort, begrudging no sort of trouble or expense in their desire to excel. At court nothing was heard of but the admirable exploits, the audacious encounters, splendid festivities, and gala doings both on land and water (accompanied by sumptuous collations of fruits, rare and exquisite, and all sorts of marvellous confections) which the brave servitors of Mademoiselle de Vieilleville provided for her gratification, and the delectation of mesdemoiselles her companions."

We hear much, indeed, of these sprightly maids, who evidently lost nothing of their share when pleasure was afoot. But to judge from the accounts handed down, fair Philomèle herself seems to have played a curiously neutral part in the brilliant pageantry. No hint survives of partiality shown by her to either eager competitor; no suggestion, even, of that

pretty girlish coquetry which would have been only natural in the circumstances. Question it as we may, the pale young face still smiles back to us across the centuries with its air sweet and inscrutable, like that of Leonardo's Mona Lisa smiling out of the painted canvas. Possibly the poor child's thoughts are more intent on studying her father's commands than in lending encouragement to either ardent suitor; or she knits her innocent brows over her mother's ambiguous letter with an assiduity which their most impassioned love-songs fail to invoke.

And still the balance hung suspended, neither party gaining the advantage. Events were hurrying on, however, and a definite settlement, one way or another, could not long be delayed. Early one morning (all the world appears to have got about its business with the birds in those stirring days) Mademoiselle de Vieilleville received a call to wait upon the king's second daughter, Madam Claude of France. For a description of that gentle and gracious princess we must turn to Brantôme, who depicts her in the heyday of her girlish charms; "So pleasant was she," he writes, "and of so open and sunny a countenance that no one could help loving her at first sight." The summons, then, coming from such a quarter, caused none of those flutterings in the dove-cot which a like invitation to Queen Catherine's redoubtable presence always оссаsioned. Truth to tell, Madame Catherine did not wholly confine her discipline to moral suasion, inquisitorial though that was, but by dint of sundry sharp nips and downright blows taught her tender maidens the full weight of a queen's hand. Blithe Claude, on the contrary, they regarded almost as one of themselves, a lighthearted girl who stood quite as much in awe of their terrible mistress as any among them. At her bidding, accordingly, our heroine sped away like a bee to the clover field, and arriving in the same breath found the young princess not yet out of bed, making merry

an

with her waiting ladies in a pitched battle of pillows. But on Philomèle's approach truce was called, and the flushed combatants, one and all, incontinently dismissed, for madam nounced that she had need of no one's services at her robing that morning save Vieilleville's alone. So, the room being cleared, and the maid of honor on her knees before her young mistress, madam began speaking in a low and confidential voice.

"You know, Vieilleville," she said, "that my marriage with the Duke of Lorraine is now fully decided upon; and the king, my father, only awaits the conclusion of some important business, which detains him, before going up to Paris to arrange the wedding ceremony. It is to be a very grand event, I am promised, and celebrated with all the pomp and circumstance which used of old times to attend the nuptials of a daughter of the lilies. But oh, my dear, if only you knew how I dread it, and how I tremble at the thought of going away into that far country, among cold, critical strangers, not one of whom knows me or cares the least in the world for me! So happy as I have always been up to this time, here in my own place, among my own people!"

Here Madam Claude paused to shed a few warm drops at the sad reflection, while Philomèle, still kneeling beside her, kissed her hands again and again, her own eyes growing misty in sympathy.

"I know I shall feel miserably homesick at first," the princess resumed, "and all forlorn, like some poor halffledged bird that has left its nest too soon. But, Vieilleville, give good heed now to what I am about to say, for I have formed a plan in my head, and I count especially on your aid and friendship. Know then that rather than trust myself all alone in that strange country I am resolved to take from your midst six demoiselles, who shall accompany me, making my country their country, loving me as I love them, and living and dying with me. Sweetheart, I leave thee to guess the

name of her I chose before giving a thought to any other! Yes, heart of my heart, 'twas thine; and so I told the queen, my mother; not only because of our joint birthday, which falls together on the festival of Saint Barbara, virgin and martyr, but still more for the love I bear thee. Indeed, and indeed, I swear by God's truth, this love is so deep and so tender that nothing on earth could console me for the loss of it!"

'Twas Philomèle's turn now to sob a little, burying her face in madam's lap under the cloud of brown curls which had escaped from their fillet, not having yet been dressed for the queen's levée.

"And the queen also," Claude hastened to add, "the queen, my mother, approves highly of you, for she has often noticed the pleasant modesty of your demeanor, and other virtues which shine in you. She knows that you are no busybody like many of your companions who gad about backbiting and sowing dissension high and low,-some of them, even, so lost to prudence as to whisper scandal of a certain very great prince and most noble virtuous lady, whose names need not be mentioned. But I happen to know, and will tell you in confidence, that several of these too-glib demoiselles are likely to be sent back to their parents after Easter, with shame for their only portion. However, that concerns neither you nor me. Nor must I forget to tell you, in proof of an affection better than many fine words, that in my marriage-contract (which was. drawn up the day before yesterday, your name appears writ fair and large over the title of First Lady-in-Waiting, with an accompanying list of perquisites, pensions, and so on, as long as my arm. And this was done, it may gratify you to learn, by express command of the queen, your gracious mistress; though not at all to my content, let me say, for I was greatly vexed at first that the gift should be permitted to come from any hand but mine. So you see, Vieilleville," the princess concluded, "there is no escape for you.

an

“Oh, madam, madam," the young girl stammered, unable to speak other word from her full heart. But recollecting in time her court breeding and the respect which is due to rank, she put a check on her emotions and replied in becoming terms: "Madam and princess, I know not how sufficiently to thank you for the favor you have deigned to show the least worthy of your servants; nor can I imagine to what I owe my good fortune if not to your own unbounded goodness, and to Heaven, which by its influence hath so embellished me in your eyes. Oh, my mistress, sweetest and best," she cried, again forgetting herself, "there is nothing in the wide world I would not do for love of you! I would walk barefooted every step of the road into Lorraine, the sun and the rain on my head, if at the end I might be sure of seeing your face and hearing your voice. Like that damsel in Holy Writ of whom the preacher told us, "Whither thou goest will I go, and where thou lodgest I will lodge; thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God."

of

Thus these two innocent children, whose years. together scarce counted thirty, held sweet converse, hand clasped in hand, and lifted above our wicked world in a kind of angelic rapture. "The Lord do so to me and more also, if aught but death part thee and me," Claude repeated, adopting in her turn that solemn Scriptural phraseology which was on many lips since Catherine had thrown open her doors to M. Théodore de Béze, and other eloquent advocates of the New Doctrine.

But the sunshine of madam's disposition would not long brook a cloud, however slight, and soon, brushing aside her tears, she cried merrily, “Eh! but how about this poor Comte de Saulx?"

For all answer Philomèle continued to gaze, round-eyed, at her young mistress. Truth to tell, our gentle enthusiast had not yet descended from her peroration among the clouds, and the expression of her fair artless visage showed so little consciousness of the part she was called upon to take between two furious suitors, each ready to tear his rival in pieces for love of her, that Madam Claude (whose humor was ever of the liveliest) could not restrain her merriment. She laughed aloud, and girl-like, laughed the more for laughing, joined presently by her companion, who must needs help swell this joyous chorus, though without rightly comprehending its motive. Meanwhile the faces of the Ladies-in-Waiting, who were listening with all their ears at the door, grew longer each moment, for still less could they understand the occasion of such inordinate mirth.

When gravity was re-established, Mademoiselle de Vieilleville began again, blushing a little, yet preserving unabashed the clear, upward look of her candid eyes. "Madam and princess, I cannot deny that I am under great obligations to M. de Saulx, who is a very gallant gentleman, and above the breath of reproach. At the same time I can assure your Highness, on my honor, that no word or act has passed between us that was not authorized by my father; and up to this moment (thanks to the grace of Heaven) I remain entire mistress of my own heart. Nevertheless, madam, the designs of my father, in presenting this young gentleman to me, must be sufficiently well known to you. In short, to cut a long story, I admit that the affair has already progressed SO far that our public betrothal is fixed for Wednesday next, that is in three days' time, and the wedding for three days later. As regards M. de Vieille