James Grant

“ It was no longer the timid diffidence, which was characteristic of the winning Nicola, that I read in them now; but the clear and full yet chaste expression of a woman of undoubted rank, and of one who had been long accustomed to her high position; and pausing, I bowed low, with a humility that was half mockery, while with a sigh of bitterness and sorrow, I remembered that I stood before my lost love, the daughter of Duke Charles IV.—Mademoiselle Marie Louise, of Lorraine and Bar-le-Duc, she whom I believed to have made my honest passion the plaything of an hour. ”

“ Can you hope to fix such a heart as that of the Countess?'
'I dare hope anything,' said I, as all Clara's beauty and fascination came before me.
'Is it worth fixing, a heart that is full of vanity, and finds no charm in religion, or in virtue? You cannot raise this woman to the rank even of a citizen's wife if you married her.'
'Married her!' I reiterated; 'by my faith, mademoiselle,' I added, after a long pause of perplexity, 'you are a bold little chit to speak thus of the Countess—'
'Of the wretched mistress of Louis XIII.!' said Nicola, with a gesture of contempt. ”

“ We had escaped the snare prepared for us, and slain Count Pappenheim; but while De Bitche was left alive, I deemed the work of that day but half done.
'Raynold's sword has done you a good service,' said Dundrennan, in a low voice, and with a grim smile, as he reloaded his pistols while we rode together at an easy trot along the path of rock that led to Zaberne. 'Pappenheim is removed for ever from your path.'
'That matters little, Viscount,' said I, bitterly. 'She is beautiful and nobly born, and will always find those who will love her and beg her love. ”

“ I knew that Colonel Sir James Ramsey, one of Scotland's best and bravest officers, was enclosed by them in a chamber of the castle of Dillingen, on the Danube, and there starved to death—he a prisoner of war, taken gallantly in battle under the Swedish banner. I knew that, like Caribs or Mohawks, these Austrians frequently murdered or mutilated their prisoners. At New Brandenburg they put a whole Scottish garrison to the sword, and tore the heart of Major Dunbar from his breast. ”

“ Fiacre.
Poor Martin Omelette had now become rather friendly to me, and this served to lighten the tedium of my confinement, but when I hinted at a bribe, and strove to tempt him about winking at an escape, he was wont to smile, shrug his shoulders, and say,
'You are brave, M. Blane; but wealth and bravery, like a long sword and a long purse, seldom go together. You cannot offer me aught that would compensate for the loss of my head, by the executioner's sword, in the Place de la Grève—no—no!'
So months wore slowly, heavily, and miserably away. ”

“ The army of Lavalette covered all the roads that led towards Lorraine, and the aspect of the column to which our Scottish cuirassiers were attached was brilliant and imposing as it poured through the pastoral province of Champagne, with corslets and cabossets gleaming in the sun, and all their bright points glittering, their plumes and banners waving among the brigades of pikemen and musketeers, dragoons, artillery, baggage, and trains of pontooneers and petardiers. ”

“ As I kissed her hand, she gave me a glance so bright and tender, that I would not have given a brass bodle for the chances of M. de Brissac, had I deemed it worth my while to attempt supplanting him in her favour; for the silver saltire of the Scottish Guard bore all before it in Paris; but, save once in her coach on the Boulevards, I never saw Marion again.
This wild and remarkable girl, whose beauty turned the heads of all the gallants in Paris, died at the early age of thirty-nine, after four days' illness, when she was still lovely as ever. ”

“ The hands of the Countess were in mine, and her left cheek rested on my shoulder. My heart was full of tumultuous joy, but not unmixed with alarm, for there were more pleasant positions in the world than finding oneself the favoured rival of Louis XIII.—one who had Bastilles, lettres de cachet, gendarmerie, mousquetaires of the guard, and the devil only knows all what more at his command. Yet I was happy, and, in secret, sometimes pressed the hand of Nicola, who sat silent in a corner, and quite in the dark. ”

“ I remembered the story Raynold Cheyne and the Chevalier Livingstone had told me, of our Marechal de Logis shooting a man in the boot of the queen's carriage, at the Hotel de Sens; and though my soul seemed to tremble within me, at the sudden prospect of death, true to the spirit of honour and of the age, I held my breath, and while my heart forgot to beat, I resolved to die rather than speak, or disgrace the Countess by uttering a sound. ”

“ Madame la Comtesse adieu; I hope to see you in Paris soon—we have not had much of the sun there lately.'
'Antoine, show out M. le Marquis,' said she, giving Gordon her beautiful hand to kiss.
'Harkee Blane,' he whispered, hurriedly as he passed us; 'you are in a fair way to fortune; but as a brother Scot and friend of my kinsman, I may warn you that you stand upon a precipice. Already she deems you one of her lovers, and as such will consider nothing too good for you for a time; but BE WARY! This chamber has occasionally led to the Bastille or to the more dreadful oubliettes of the Louvre. ”

“ The whole of the Scottish Guard were under arms; the hundred cuirassiers on horseback in full array, with rapier, helmet, and plume; the hundred archers, now archers but in name, as they were armed with arquebuses, and clad in white hocquetons, glittering with lace; and the twenty-four chosen Scottish gentlemen, keepers of the royal body, who never left the King of France until their hands deposited his remains in the regal sepulchre of St. Denis, which was always the last duty of the Scottish Guard, before they encircled the throne of his successor. ”

“ I have not forgotten that, or that to be ungenerous would be unlike the daughter of Duke Charles. A pure passion, a true love, should ever be ready to make every temporal sacrifice for the object of its regard; but this is no sacrifice that you ask me—to fly with you to your country—this Scotland of which we hear so much in song and war. I ask you to give me a protector; to save me from the Bastille, from Richelieu, and from Louis—from becoming again the wedded victim of a sinking state.'
'Heaven bless you, beloved Louise! ”

“ I doubt not, my dear M. Blane, your despatches will cause many a tear to be shed in France.'
'True, mademoiselle,' said De Brissac, with a sentimental air; 'many an eye, lovely as your own, that God made only for smiling, now is compelled to weep.'
'But their tears will only render brighter the laurels which bedeck the brows of the survivors. The number who have fallen saddens, doubtless, our glory and triumph, but,' she added, with her fine eyes flashing, 'they fell for France, bequeathing victory to her and to their comrades. ”

“ My family are exiled; Lorraine is now but a name—a French province; its dukedom is a shadow. We are equal; and your country and home, dear Arthur, shall henceforth be mine!'
After this I need scarcely add more; but we had De Brissac and his three companions to baffle, the Rhine to cross, Flanders to traverse, and the sea to pass before we saw my father's tower amid the wilds of Glenkens; and many a bold and daring adventure we had on the journey—adventures sufficient to fill ten such volumes as this. ”

“ My brave comrades! who among them were now alive, and who were slain? In fancy they all came before me, that brilliant line of horsemen—old Patrick Gordon with gray locks, and eagle eye; the fiery Sir Quentin Home; Viscount Dundrennan, so handsome and gay; Tushielaw, and Raynold Cheyne of Dundargle; the brilliant Chevalier Livingstone d'Angoulême, and other Scottish hearts, all charging holster to holster, and bridle to bridle! ”

“ The assault was abandoned, and a precipitate retreat succeeded—a retreat galled by a fire of cannon, muskets, and arquebuses, from the ramparts of the tower and its outworks; while the stubborn Swiss, the fierce Imperialists, and infuriated Lorrainers, who composed the garrison, about eight hundred in all, raised a wild and tumultuous hurrah; for never before had the regiment de Picardy been known to retreat. Schreckhorn flung down his musket and drew his rapier, exclaiming, 'Lorraine and the Emperor! the Emperor and Lorraine! A sortie! volunteers for a sortie! Fall in, my comrades! ”

“ So Madame la Comtesse d'Amboise did not forget me?'
'My dear fellow,' said the Marquis, laughing, 'Clara never forgets a lover so near the Rhine, and so far from the Bastille, if I may say so.'
'Marquis, I swear to you——'
'Do not swear, my friend,' continued the gay Gordon, 'for I will not even then believe you. The deuce! no woman would make such a fuss with a handsome young fellow as she did with you, and give him a Spanish barb worth six hundred crowns of the sun, without feeling something more than mere friendship for him. ”

“ France—France and Scotland, for ever! trot—gallop—comrades—les Gardes Ecossais, follow me—CHARGE!'
Every lip was set; every cheek was flushed; every eye was sparkling as I gazed along the ranks of the chosen hundred cuirassiers, when the voice of our leader and the shrill twang of the trumpet bade us move, and when the contagious ardour ran from man to man and heart to heart along that Scottish line—Scottish in name and blood, and heart and soul—second to none in pride of race and chivalry. ”

“ Around the city, the Sarre wound between woods of chestnut, and over it, on a lofty rock, stood a castle of the Bishops of Strasbourg, in the deep arched windows of which, red lights that twinkled, showed where Cardinal de Lavalette still held revel with some of his officers; for that old fortress was his head-quarters.
While leaving the city by its only avenue, a steep and narrow path, hewn through the solid rock in the olden time, the French cavalry trumpets—sharp, shrill, and warlike—rang in the clear atmosphere, as they played a stirring march ”

“ Away from the bustle of towns, camps, and garrisons—away from the glitter, gloss, and buzz of life, our thoughts will run, as it were, all to one focus; imagination gets fuller and freer play, all the impulses of the heart are more joyous and pure; and thus a girl on whom we might scarcely have bestowed a thought had we met her in the bustle of the world, may become a very divinity, enshrined by a halo of such beauty as the eye or fancy of a lover alone can see.
But Nicola was charming enough to have attracted attention even amid the court beauties of Louis XIII. ”

“ In short, there was a perplexing obliquity of morality, and oblivion of all marriage and family ties in this precious post-bag of mine, that was quite Parisian, and suited to the French taste of the age; for every one seemed to be in love with his friend's wife; and thus laden, with Hepburn's despatch concealed in the lining of my cuirass, I bade adieu to my gallant comrades, who resumed their march towards the Rhine, while I turned the head of Dagobert regretfully towards Paris the beautiful—Paris, the city of perdition. ”

“ Antoine, unseen by the watch, unchallenged by the sentinels, and leaving the town behind me, hurried along a country road, which afterwards proved to be the way to Vincennes. At length the fields, the trees, and solitude were around me, and I paused to draw breath, and look back to where the vastness of Paris, like a wilderness of stone, lay buried in sleep, and overtopped by the huge dark towers of Notre Dame.
Another black and frowning mass rose above the roofs and spires: it resembled the keep of a castle. I remembered the Bastille, that place of dreadful memories ”

“ My horse, Dagobert, the gift of the Countess d'Amboise, was a fine Spanish barb, worth at least seven hundred crowns of the sun. My arms and armour, supplied from the royal arsenal, were similar to those worn by my comrades, and consisted of a pale buff coat so thickly laced with silver as to be almost sword-proof; a triple-barred helmet, with back and breast-plates, gorget and gloves of the finest and purest steel, inlaid with gold; an arquebuse, two feet and a half long, attached to a belt by a swivel. The pair of pistols, the dagger, and long bowl-hilted Toledo rapier were my own. ”

“ On the day following the fall of Schlettstadt, while passing through a solitary street which was less encumbered by dead bodies, exploded bombs, cold shot, and fallen houses than other thoroughfares of the town, I met several groups of brawling soldiers, and found an Imperial cavalier, whose sword-arm had been broken and bound by a scarf, feebly defending himself with his poniard against five or six drunken Switzers of Lavalette's corps. Drawing my sword I drove them aside, but not until I had given one a slash across the face which cooled his ardour and alarmed his comrades. ”