Corse de Leon; or, The Brigand: A Romance. Volume 1 (of 2)James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
History
Corse de Leon; or, The Brigand: A Romance. Volume 1 (of 2)
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
France -- History -- Henry II, 1547-1559 -- Fiction
"We shall see, we shall see," said the king. "I would fain not lose one
of the brightest ornaments of our court. Vieilleville," he continued,
"unto your care I will commend this young lady. Take her with you to the
apartments of your daughter and of my daughter Claude. Bid the princess
love her and sooth her, and consult with the queen where she can best be
placed in the chateau, so as to have comfort, and ease, and repose, with
as little of the bustle and gayety of a court as may be, for the time.
Such things will be harsh to you, I know, young lady. Monsieur de
Masseran, we will be father and mother also to her for a while. Father
Willand, let me see you at nightfall: I have somewhat to say to you, my
good friend."
"I shall make the almoner in waiting jealous," said Father Willand; "but
I hope your majesty will order me some dinner: for I doubt much if, in
your whole palace, I should find any one charitable enough to bestow an
alms on a poor wandering priest like myself."
"You are mistaken, good father," said Vieilleville. "You will find your
cover at my table: come with me; we must no farther occupy his majesty's
time."
Thus saying, he led Isabel de Brienne to the door; but, before he had
gone out, the king called him back, and said in a low voice, "Do not let
the Savoyard quit the court. Should need be, tell him I require his
presence the day after to-morrow. Discourage these ideas of nunneries.
Poor Meyrand is madly in love with this girl; and it is strange to see
how passion mixes itself up with his supercilious air of indifference.
Perhaps she may be brought to yield."
"I think not, sire," replied Vieilleville, bluntly; and, with a low bow,
he left the room.
CHAPTER XXI.
The horse was strong and fresh, and Bernard de Rohan rode on rapidly.
The stars came out brighter and brighter as the night deepened, and the
clear, deep, lustrous purple of those fair southern skies became mingled
with yellow light, as the moon, looking large and defined, rose over the
deep black summits of the eastern hills. It was not long before the
French frontier was passed; and in those days, as Savoy was completely
in the occupation of the French, no guards watched upon the way to stop
or question the stranger coming from the neighbouring land.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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