The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1844-02-13 00:00:00

CARDINAL DE RETZ,

op.
THE COURTIER'S PLOT.

BY PETER POPJOY, Esq.

(For the Liverpool Standard.

CHAPTER XII.
Contains-a description of what is called "a scene."

lig spite of the presence of the Regent, Fabien could no
longer restrain his auger—•" IL:famous spy and eaves-
iropper, to betray the conversation of a gentle lady !
but"—

Suddenly recollecting where and before whom he
stood, he stopped short, making a bow of submission to
e.e Queen, colouring deeply.
Albert de Croissi replied to his brother but by a dis-
dainful gesture, and quietly withdrew, mingling with the
tonztiers, who awaited half terrified the conflict of pas-
sion that appeared to be warring in the mind of the
Queen.

The Coadjutor seemed about to speak; but such was
the wrath with which the Queen was excited, that he
dared not throw himself before his Royal mistress in
defence of the helpless girl who stood hall' dead with
fright before him, like some dove awaiting the pounce of
tie eagle fluttering over-head.
" Come hither—come hither," said Anne of Austria,
tier words but half intelligible from rage; " I— I am
willing to doubt what has been but now revealed to me.
Tell me it is false, and that I have been deceived ; tell
me that those whom I love—have trusted—in whom I
isave placed so much contidence—have not betrayed me;
tell me, miserable girl, the truth," stormed the Queen,
stamping her foot, " or I will crush thee—like this paltry
vase."

The Regent seized one of the splendid onynnents which
good in the room, dashing it to the earth in a paroxysm
a passion.

this excess of anger appeared to give Elizabeth the
calm courage of despair. She again threw• herself at the
Regent's feet, and addressed her in a firm but respectful
ananner—

" I will not aggravate by a lie a fault of which I sin-
, rely repent, my gracious mistress. What Mons. de
Croissi has just said is true."
All the baneful passions that held a tenancy in the
heart of Anne of Austria were at once revealed.

" Darest thou to avow it?" cried she, in a voice
of thunder, " darest thou to tell me this—here, in my
presence ? Away ! away ! or 1 will"—

The 'Regent raised her hand as if to strike the pros-
trate maiden before her, but suddenly her arm fell as if
,cireriess to her side, and she sank on the seat near her,
sobbing bitterly, hiding her face in her handkerchief,
exclaiming—
" Oh, unhappy—unhappy queen, that I am ! betrayed
those nearest and dearest to me ; by my friends, my
servants, my followers—by all."
This scene appeared to have a strong effect upon the
conspirators. Some seemed struck with terror; others
shrunk back, daring scarcely to breathe. For several
minutes the sobs of the Queen were alone heard in the
oratory. The plaintive voice of Elizabeth at length
mingled its sweet tones with the royal grief.
" Madame !" said she, still kneeling, "my crime is so
great that I cannot hope nor expect for pardon, never-
theless I trust I may be allowed to explain if not to ex-
ease the treason of which I have been accused before
you. Deprived of my aunt—my only relation—alone in
the world, I had no help to look for but in the noble lady
who placed me near your majesty. I owed her a debt of
gratitude without limit ; I was nothing without her ; and
what must have become of me Heaven only knows, if
she had withdrawn from me the fostering hand that so
kindly upheld me. She was imperious, haughty, and at
the same time crafty and skilful, besides being profoundly
vtirsed in the art of seeking the truth from the inmost re-
cesses of the heart. Was it then difficult for her to de-
ceive a poor simple inexperienced girl like myself, who
cold not comprehend for the most part the words or the
actions of which she compelled me to give her an account?
I always believed her to be devotedly attached to your
Najesty, and I saw no crime in making her acquainted
with that which perhaps your Majesty would make her
acquainted yourself. For a long time my protectress
thus abused my candour, before I was warned of my fault
by a vague whisper of conscience which the excitement
of a life at court made me slow to hear and understand.
My eyes were not opened until that clay when Mons. de
Croissi, by listening at my chamber door, heard a con-
versation which took place between Mlle. de Chevreuse
arid myself • this circumstance at once revealed to me the
frightful part I had been made to play. I was ashamed
of myself; then fear took possession of every faculty, and
that man, who now comes to accuse me, did not blush to
propose to me a horrid bargain, which I could not refuse
to ratify : he threatened to tell all to your Majesty, if I
did not consent to assist him in a project which he then
meditated, and in which a young cavalier over whom I
was supposed to have some influence, he wished to induce,
to take a part. What could I do, without a friend to give
advice, without one to look to for support? I would rather
have died than forfeited your Majesty's regard, and I
feared perhaps that I might be degraded at court, and
banished your presence, should my folly become
known. At length I was requested to write to M. Fabien
eke Croissi. In this I saw no great harm, since your Ma-
jesty, I was led to believe, gave your concurrence in
what was going forward. But when the whole truth
was revealed to me, oh ! what bitter tears did I not shed
for this odious bargain. This is the truth, madame ; and
now I am ready to submit to the chastisement which your
most just indignation has reserved for me. My life alone
can expiate the mischief which it seems I have uncon-
sciously done, and I shall smile at death if it can atone
for my crime."
This recital, emprinted with the glowing beauty of
troth—the touching tones of that low soft voice, so pre-
cious in woman—made a deep impression upon many of
the courtiers. The Coadjutor turned away, to hide his
emotion. Fabien approached Elizabeth, and raising her
from the ground, said in a whisper--
" This, then, dearest, is your secret—one villain has
betrayed us both Oh ! Elizabeth, the court has been a
fatal place to us ; would that we had remained poor and
Obscure at Montglat !"
While the Countess was speaking the Queen became
calmer, and perhaps had not heard one word of Eliza-
beth's justification. Suddenly she rose up and said, with
an abstracted air, as if but just aroused from a deep
sleep—
" What think you, gentlemen, of an evening so well
employed for the good of the state ? In truth, we have
lost our time in occupying ourselves with the love affairs
of a gallant and his mistress. But we have had enough,
and perhaps too much of this. Gentlemen, I will detain
you no longer; we must for the present—l say for the
present —abandon our enterprise. You, Mons. le Coad-
jutor, remain here, I pray ; I wish to speak with
you." . .

At the same time the Regent made a courteous sign
to. those assembled, signifying her wish to be left alone
with the ecclesiastic, without recollecting that she had
mot decided the fate of the two unhappy young people
who had incurred her anger. Such was the character of
Anne of Austria ; thus changing and inconstant was her
temper. This forgetfulness might have saved the cul-
prits, hut there were too many persons interested in their
safe custody and future disposition not to remind the
Queen of the strange error she was committing.
They therefore remained. De Cruissi undertook to
express their wishes.
Madame," said he, bowing low, " these gentlemen,
before they depart from the royal presence, await your
Majesty's orders respecting this young man upon whom
their future peace of mind depends."
" Well thought of," said the Queen, colouring as she
spoke ;" I had nearly forgotten. But go in peace, gen-
tlemen ; I will take care that M. de Croissi shall be a
hostage for your safety as well as his own. Be sure,"
she continued, with an air of contempt, as she looked at
the Baron, " that it will not be to him 1 shall confide the
safe keeping of his hold pupil."
The courtiers one by one saluted the Queen, and de-
parted in silence. Hocquincourt would have still made
an attempt to save Tablet], but Anne closed his mouth
by a dry refusal, and the kind-hearted mare-,ehal departed,
casting upon Fabien and Elizabeth a glance full of re-
pet. The Queen then called the Baron de Croissi
taller, and spoke to him in a low voice.
While the noblemen were taking their leave, the Co-
adjutor gradually drew near the two young people, who
now occupied an obscure corner of the oratory, near the
altar. At the moment he found no one was observing
Ei'm, he approached Fabien, and quickly whispered—.
`Thev are about to 00ur.37 y 01.7 to the

the nuy, that you are ul:oriccd ; the alit.-c..
you find (.2,11ek : a minute more, and
are 1,,5q."

F,Lieti drooped his head sadly: as if to ask of what
use it would be.
" Fly, fly, Fabien," quickly whispered Elizabeth, who
had heard the pressing invitation of Paul de Gondi.
The Coadjutor at once guessed the cause of his hesi-
tation, and added—
" The Queen will pardon the Countess—l will pledge
my word to that. Away, if you would be safe."
Fabien pressed the hand of Elizabeth to his lips, made
a sign of gratitude to the Coadjutor, and glided in silence
from the antechamber, now in complete darkness either
by chance or design. Hardly had he placed his foot in
the apartment when he felt a hand take his—
" Are you M. Fahien de Croissi ?"
" I am," replied Fabian.
" Follow me."
And he was immediately led through the secret panel,
which suddenly closed upon him.
And his escape was but just in time. The conversa-
tion which the Queen held with Albert, the moment after
Fabien left the room, concluded. De Croissi turned
about, and not perceiving his brother, an expression of
surprise lit up his cadaverous countenance.
" What has become of him ?" cried he ; " where is
my unhappy brother ?"
" Sir," said the Queen angrily, "would you arrest him
in my presence ? The young man is no doubt in the ad-
joining apartment. Go, and remember that I wish to
put my secret out of the power of being betrayed by his
indiscretions. I expect, at the same time, that you will
not treat him harshly."
The Baron bowed low, and quitted the room with an
air of disquietude. The Queen heaved a deep sigh, as if
the moment had arrived when a painful sacrifice was
about to be accomplished. Looking round her, her eyes
rested on Elizabeth de Montglat.
" What is it not all completed?" said she, with impa-
tience. " Elizabeth de Montglat, come hither."
Elizabeth approached her.
" From this moment you are no longer in my service,"
said the Queen, coldly ; "your name will be erased from
the list of maids of honour, and you will announce this
to Mlle. de Motterille. To-morrow you shall be shut
up for the rest of your life in the Carmelites.
Elizabeth made no sign of emotion in listening to this
dreadful sentence. She asked for no pardon, no remis-
sion of punishment. It appeared as if one absorbing sub-
ject took up her attention. This apparent indifference
brought frowns upon the lace of the Queen, who antici-
pated some proof of repentance—some excuse for grant-
ing forgiveness.
" Leave the chamber," she said, " her passion again
rising. I want you not again to-night ; neither your
services, nor your company."
In spite of this rigorous and harsh injunction, the
maiden remained motionless in the same place, her head
bent forward, and listening attentively, as if she had not
heard the order which hsd been so discourteously given.
Anne of Austria was about to speak, when Albert de
Croissi entered the oratory, pale and agitated, exclaiming
" Madame, there is some one here who betrays you.
The young man has disappeared, since M. Gabouri as-
sures me that he h; :s not departed with the noblemen who
have just quitted the palace."
" Can this be possible ?" exclaimed the Queen.
A person clad in black, who was no other than Ga.
bouri, the mysterious introducer of the conspirators, pre-
sented himself at the door, and confirmed the assertion
of De Croissi.
" No end to wonders," said the Queen, with a thought-
ful air. " Unless he is a magician, he cannot have va-
nished altogether, without being seen."
" He is then saved," cried Elizabeth, whose distrac-
tion of thought this singular event explained.
" Oh ! madame, my noble sovereign, the rest is just,
and I will suffer now, without complaint, whatever pu-
nishment you may inflict upon me !"
At the same time Elizabeth made a profound reve-
rence and retired, without the Queen showing the
least sign of attention.
After her departure the most profound silence reigned
throughout the oratory.
" Gabouri," said the Queen, at length, to her cheva-
lier d'honneur, " the more I reflect upon this matter, the
more impossible does it seem that this young man can
have left the palace. We cannot sound an alarm at this
moment without causing some commotion, which will ex-
cite suspic'ons I would rather were not generated ;
hut take care that all the doors are closed, and allow no
one to leave the palace till to-morrow. Do you hear ?"
Gabouri bowed in silence.
" You, Mons. de Crrissi," she continued, " must this
night remain with Gabouri, and to-morrow you shall take
back your prisoner as soon as he is found. Leave us."
At the moment that De Croissi was retiring with the
chevalier, the Queen remarked a slight smile upon the
mocking lips of the Coadjutor.
" You smile," said she ; " what am I to learn by that
significant look ?"
" I smile, Madame," said Gondi, " with the thought
how unlucky poor De Croissi is •, for, if I do not deceive
myself, this is the second bird that has slipped through
his fingers to-day.
The Baron cast a look of suspicion and irritation upon
the reverend jester.
" Nevertheless, Monsieur le Coadjutor," said he, " if
I were permitted to search for the author of the treasons
of which I have just cause of complaint, I should not
perhaps be long in finding him."
" What would this model of brothers—this tender re-
lation—this kind friend of poor Fahien de Croissi, insi-
nuate P" said Paul de Gor.di, in a quiet sneering tone.
" I would insinuate nothing, but say that a perfidious
priest is the sole cause—"
" Silence—silence, Sir," said the Queen, in an autho-
ritative voice ; " do you dare to raise your voice in anger
in my presence, and thus rudely assail with speech a per-
sonage so high in dignity and merit as M. le Coadjutor.
Your insolence yes rather too far this evening, Mons.
de CroisQi. Do you think, because I have condescended to
admit you upon one occasion into my confidence, that
you have any right to speak thus loud in my presence.
Go, sir, go, and understand well that when men like your-
self become no longer necessary, we discard them with
disgust "

D Cr6issi retired seemingly annihilated as if by a
thunderbolt.
When the Queen found herself alone with De Gondi,
she seated herself in the nearest chair, and said with pro-
found dejection—
" They drive me mad," Monsieur de Gondi ; " I re-
quire snore than ever your good counsels and services.
They all betray me !"

(To be continued.)

NOTICES.

THE MAGAZINES.

Dublin University. Curry and Son, Dublin ; W. S. Orr

and CO. London.

The number for this month is more than usually diver-
sified in the character of its contents, which, with the ex-
ception of one poem, entitled " Gossip among the Infer-
nals," are of a high order of merit. " The mishaps of
Mr. Latitdt Nahhim" promises us some amusement, and
although the evident imitation of Dickens' style provokes
a comparison to which few writers ought voluntarily to
submit themselves, they are narrated very racily. " Arrah
Neil," by Mr. James, increases in interest. We have in
this number arrived at the 23d chapter. The most valua-
ble article in the number is one upon the subject of the
proposal to fo m, or rather to re-form, an ecclesiastical
legislature. The writer's opinion is decidedly hostile to
a convocation of the clergy at present ; and his views are
ably supported by reasoning and historical facts. The
Life of the Author of " The Collegians," " Gisippus,"
&n., is ably sketched from the biography just published
by his brother.

Tait's Magazine.

Wm. Tait, Edinburgh ; Sirnpkin,

Marshall, and CO., London:

Our northern friend has furnished us with a very inte-
resting number. The review of Tytler's History of Scot-
land, of which we have this month the first part, pro-
mises, in itself, to be as good an abridgement of the work
as if it had been intended for separate publication. We
have frequently remarked upon the care with which the
reviews in this magazine are done but we really question
whether it is quite fair to an author to gut a book so
completely, and give its whole spirit and story, as in this
number the editor of Tait has done with the new novel
of " The Belle of the Season." Few people, after read-
ing this review, would feel any great interest to read the
book itself.

Fraser's Magazine. London : G. W. Nickisson.

The present number is a very excellent one—its light
literature, politics, and criticism being of a high order of
merit. To some of the articles we shall probably return
next week, when our space and time are a little less occu-
pied. We must, however, direct the attention of our
readers to the " Reminiscences of Men and Things," in
which the career and opinions of a man scarcely under-
stood in the present day in this country—Prince Metter-
nich—are sketched by " One who has a good Memory,"
in his peculiarly graphic style.