Fortune, always delighting to ensnare human credulity
and play with human hopes, seemed to lavish her
smiles on the conspirators. The queen had received
the report of her emissaries, and was eager to enjoy her
malignant triumph at the detection of the prince in a
violation of his father's commands. She went earlier
than usual to the emperor's dressing-room, which overlooked
the inner court of the palace. He was dressing
while, according to his daily custom, he was listening
to the reading of one of the learned men of his court.
Charles was avaricious of time, and of time only, and
appears, from the brevity of his toilette, to have thought
with a witty anti-Brummel of our own day, that the

[figure description] Page 072.[end figure description]

poorest employment a man can have, is that of looking
at his own face. Fastrade found a pretext to dismiss
the reader. “Rely upon it, my lord,” she said, as soon
as they were alone, “you have acted with your usual
wisdom in striking at the root of this love-affair of your
son with my ungrateful Blanche. The Scripture saith,
wind, rain, and snow are God's messengers, and I think
this snow is sent thus untimely to inform you Le Bossu
has violated your command—his love has overruled
his duty: look there, my lord!” The emperor made
no reply; his keen eye was fixed on the traces of
the footsteps to which Fastrade had directed it. She
deemed her point secured. “It is most certain,” she
continued, “that Pepin has abused your confidence:
but do not be harsh with him. An arrest for a few
weeks, till Blanche is far beyond his reach, will prevent
any further rashness on his part.”

The emperor still made no reply, but sounded a
bell: a servant appeared. “Send Eric hither,” he said.
Eric was the court shoemaker, and, like all the other
masters of the domestic arts then in use, he lived within
the palace walls. He was instantly in waiting. “Eric,”
said his royal master, “go measure me the prints of yon
footsteps on the snow. Return and tell me, as I think
you can, whose shoe has made them.”

“If it can be told, my lord emperor, it is I that can
tell it, for I have fitted every foot at your majesty's
court for the last ten years.”

“I rely upon you. Fear not to report truly,—fear
nothing but to deceive me.”

“It is right, where justice demands punishment,” said
the queen, “to proceed, as you ever do, my lord, with
scrupulous caution; otherwise we might surely in this
case trust to our eyes: no one can mistake the track
of Le Bossu's almond-shaped foot.”

“Almond-shaped! I know not what you mean by
almond-shaped, my lady; but if in aught to disparage

[figure description] Page 073.[end figure description]

the shape of Pepin's foot, by the mass you greatly err.
His foot is as fairly formed, and as well set on, as any
lord's, or lady's either, in the court. It is like his
mother's, and that was never matched in beauty by any
foot of flesh and blood.”

Fastrade reddened with vexation (her own little
foot was her pet idol), but she knew too well the art of
managing, to chide when she was chidden; and reserving
her resentment for some more auspicious moment,
she remained rather awkwardly silent. Eric soon reappeared,
with a last in his hand, which looked like an
unshaped block of wood, as broad as it was long.
“The track, an please your majesty,” said Eric, “is
Ermen's, the Lady Blanche's Gallic serving-woman. I
have measured it with her last: you see, my lady, there
is no other woman's like it—so broad, and flat on the
instep—short-vamped and square-heeled.”

“Enough, Eric,” said the emperor, evidently agreeably
surprised. “I am satisfied—here is gold for your
trouble—say nothing of the errand I sent you on. And,
good Eric, I commend you for being at your stall at this
early hour: I like no drones in my hive. My Lady
Fastrade,” continued the emperor, when the menial
had left the apartment, “you have been somewhat over-alert
with your suspicions.”

“If so, my dear lord, it was an over-zeal in your service:
I ask no obedience from Le Bossu—he violates no
duty to me.”

“Nor to me either. On my soul, I believe I have
wronged him—and in matters far more serious than
this love-passage. By Heaven! I had rather be a
duped and credulous fool, than a tyrant father. Leave
me, Fastrade—I have business with my secretaries.”

“I will leave you, my lord, but not in anger with me.
You must first forgive me for loving you too well, and
serving you too anxiously. Simpleton that I was! I
deemed it my duty to tell all that was in my heart to

[figure description] Page 074.[end figure description]

my royal lord and master, but, in future, so far from
troubling you with my sad suspicions of Le Bossu,
whatever outrage and obloquy he may heap upon me, I
will remember that the lot of woman is on me—that I
must live—suffer—and be silent!”

“Oh woman, woman!” thought Charles, “what a
power of words you take to express your vow of
silence;” but he vouchsafed no reply to her meek resolution,
uttered as if she were the most oppressed and
enduring of women. His feelings had taken a new
and strong direction, and he suffered her to depart
without one apologetic word or look. His generous
spirit was stung with a sense of injustice to his son,
and he determined to repair it on the instant, by giving
him a signal proof of his confidence.

One week earlier this step would have saved Charles
from everlasting regrets, and the prince from crime and
sorrow; but neither monarch nor subject can control
the consequences of evil actions. “As ye sow, so
shall ye reap,” is the just and immutable law.

The reader must readily have conjectured the mode
by which Ermen evaded the peril that menaced the
prince. He was allowed no choice of the means, and
scarcely time to feel how much more ludicrous than
heroic was his position. The night that followed he
had passed without sleep, and in anxious deliberations,
and when he was summoned to his father's presence,
his pale and haggard aspect alarmed the emperor.
“Are you sick, my son?” he inquired, in a kinder
voice than had fallen on the prince's ear for many
weeks.

“No, sire, not sick, but—”

“But what? my dear Pepin.”

“Heart-sick, my liege. Is it strange that I should
droop, and grow pale, in the cold shadow of my father's
displeasure?”

Pepin's noble heart was unschooled in artifice, and

[figure description] Page 075.[end figure description]

he felt its true blood rush to his face, at the first evasion
he had ever used with his father. The emperor saw
only in his flushed cheek the expression of filial feeling,
wounded by his injustice.

“My dear Pepin,” he said, “there has been something
wrong between us. We have both been to blame—
have we not?”

“I believe so, my lord.”

“Nay, Pepin, do not so be-lord and be-liege me:
have you not always called me father? It is the title
God has made, my son, worth all others of man's creation.
I would not be a common king, and live far up
in the frozen regions, above the sweet and melting breath
of nature. Call me father, my dear son; and henceforth
let us maintain the natural offices of our relation.
You shall be my support and hope, and I will be your
protector and benefactor.” The impulse of Pepin's
heart was, to throw himself at his father's feet—to
swear to him eternal gratitude and fidelity—but the
solemn oaths he had plighted in the chapel still vibrated
in his ear, and withheld him; and when the emperor
concluded, by saying, “Is not this our compact, Pepin?”
and offering him his hand, the prince gave him his, but
it was as cold and nerveless, in his father's warm grasp,
as if it were death-stricken.

“So mute and cold, my son!” The emperor gazed
at him for a moment, piercingly. “Ah, Pepin,” he continued,
“I see how it is with you. Duty, honour,
glory, all weigh light against love. But believe me,
my boy, this will pass away—it is the plaything of our
youth—the mist of the morning, certainly to be dispersed
by the fervid sun of manhood. As to this pretty
Blanche, she is a rare gem, I grant you, and fit for a
monarch's cabinet; but I have given her away, and I
cannot retract my royal word.”

“But why was that word given, sire?”

“Why, in part, young man, to place her far beyond

[figure description] Page 076.[end figure description]

your reach—think you it were well to reward treason
and rebellion by giving the daughter of the rebel Hunold
to my favourite son? Let that pass—let us not look
back, but forward—you have glorious work before you—
no time for a lover's sighs—the Saxon provinces are
in revolt—the barbarian forces have already passed our
eastern frontier. I am bound, as you know, to the
succour of the Pope against his insurgent Romans,—
and as a proof of my restored confidence, I shall give
to you the supreme command of the forces already
levied and now levying for this eastern war. And
further, my son, name to me your friends, those that
you would have appointed to stations of trust and
honour under you, and their claims shall be considered.”

Pepin was overpowered. He saw placed in his
hands, by the blind confidence of his father, the certain
means, as he believed, of achieving his designs. A
vision of love, independence, and power floated before
his eyes; but he recoiled from himself at the thought
of abusing a trust so nobly and generously proffered.
He made an effort to express, in general terms, his gratitude,
but he abhorred hypocrisy, and the words died
away on his lips. A nervous tremulousness seized his
whole frame. He was exhausted by long-continued
excitement, fasting, and vigils, and torn by the conflict
of opposing passions. The emperor believed his
agitation to result from a spirit grieved by injustice, and
overpowered by unexpected kindness. “Now God
forgive me!” he exclaimed, as he rang for assistance,
“for ever distrusting him.” The prince attempted to
rise; he again essayed to speak, but the power of motion
and utterance failed him, and when the attendants
appeared he was conveyed, unconscious, to his own
apartment.

The scenes that followed may be imagined. His
faltering and changing purposes—the whisperings of
unappeasable resentment to the queen—Father

[figure description] Page 077.[end figure description]

Bernard's stern, unyielding onward pressure—the indignant
remonstrances of his confederates, and above all, and
finally prevailing, the soft pleadings of a love that
melted every subordinate affection in its fires.

In a few days he was at the head of his father's
forces, marching towards the eastern frontier of the
empire. In a few days more he had unfurled an independent
standard, and declared that he would never lay
down his arms till he had secured a participation in the
government, and an equal succession with his brothers.
Success everywhere attended him. The emperor was
on his progress towards Rome. There was no loyal
force to oppose the prince, and he marched victoriously
from city to city.

Where was the gentle Blanche while these events
were shaping her destiny? The prince had been compelled
by his military duties to leave Aix-la-Chapelle
without delay. He had previously concerted a plan
with Father Bernard for Blanche's clandestine removal
to a place of security, where she might await the moment
when their happy destinies should be achieved,
and for ever united. In the mean time Father Bernard
remained in the palace to watch, with his untiring eye,
over the safety of the orphan. For this end he curbed
his haughty spirit, and still stooped to play the priest to
the queen; and kept down, as well as he might, his
impatient desire to unsheath his sword in a fair field.
Through Ermen's agency he effected a communication
with Blanche, and every measure was appointed to
secure their secret and safe release from thraldom.
The appointed hour was at hand, when their hopes
were suddenly dashed by an order from the queen, who
ruled the palace in the emperor's absence, to remove
the Lady Blanche to an upper apartment, where she
was to be strictly guarded, till she could be sent off
with her retinue, without danger of being intercepted
by the prince. The queen, still influenced by the

[figure description] Page 078.[end figure description]

superstitious notions respecting Blanche that had been
so deeply stricken into her soul by the priest, treated
her with no discourtesy that she deemed unnecessary.
She assigned to her use the emperor's private sleeping-room,
which communicated on one side with a gallery,
guarded day and night, and on the other with her own
bedroom; the passages to which, in the emperor's
absence, were always jealously guarded. The third
day of Blanche's removal had passed, and was succeeded
by a quiet starlit evening. The busy and the
happy were either reposing or revelling, and no sound
was heard in the streets of Aix-la-Chapelle, save the
half-stifled groan of the houseless vagrant—the slow
step of the panitent returning from midnight prayers, or
the whistle of the soldier who did the watchman's
duty. Blanche was sitting at her casement-window,
absorbed in sad and tender thought, while Ermen was
pacing up and down the room, performing superfluous
services, keeping time with her tongue to her movements;
complaining, expostulating, and entreating, half
to herself, and half to her lady: thus letting off the
accumulating steam that, being restrained from its proper
channels, must find a safety-valve or explode.

“Our bodies might be as free as our thoughts,” she
said, “if my lady had taken my advice.”

“What advice?” asked Blanche, rather to humour
Ermen's tongue than for information of what had been
already repeatedly rung in her ear.

“What advice! sure, my lady, you know—but it's
easy going over it again, and maybe you'll think differently—
pardon me, my dear young mistress, but they
say wit had better come late than never. It is but to
give the ten gold pieces to our warder—his honesty,
a plague on him! is not worth half the sum, but he
swears by St. Denis he'll not take less—then the
Saxon churl at the other end of the gallery is easily

[figure description] Page 079.[end figure description]

disarmed by a cup of drugged Rhenish—after that our
only hindrance till we get to the private passage to the
chapel are the two Gallic sentinels below the first flight
of stairs. And one glance of your eye—one word
from your tongue, my lady, will move all the bars and
bolts at their command, for the loyal blood of Aquitaine
is in their veins, though my Lady Fastrade knows it
not. Once in the chapel, we might trust to holy mother
Mary to help her own servants out of her own temple—
that is, if we help ourselves; beyond that, I'll
trust to my own wits alone,—for once in the free air,
they'll rise like steam from a boiling pot when the
cover is taken off.”

“Consider once more, my good Ermen, by what
means we should escape: first, by corrupting the fidelity
of our keeper—”

“Pardon me, my dear lady, the faith that is to be
bought for ten pieces of gold is not worth speaking of.”

“Be it so then. But in sorrow, I must confess there
is no human virtue but has its price, since my good
Ermen is willing, for the doubtful chance of liberty at
last, to expose to cruel punishment two of her kind-hearted
countrymen. Oh it is the bitterest drop in my
sorrows, that I involve my best friends in crime, as well
as misery. You, Ermen,—this kind mysterious priest,
who is playing a treacherous part for me, and my dear
lord, whom the doom of treason certainly awaits.”

Blanche's voice expressed her utter hopelessness, and
Ermen forgot all her plans and pique, in the desire to
console her. “Now, my blessed lady,” she said, “do
not talk so despairingly; I had a dismal dream of the
dead last night, and that's a sure sign you'll hear good
news of the living. Do not lay your head so droopingly
on your harp, as if you were never again to
wake it to a joyous measure—nay, do not rise from it
till you have once more played that Gallic song, that my
fathers sung ere they had passed under the yoke of

[figure description] Page 080.[end figure description]

barbarian, or Roman either. Ah, well I remember how
your little hand and foot kept time to it, while you were
yet a baby in my arms. There it is!” continued
Ermen, as Blanche, to gratify her, boldly struck the
chords. The wild heroic air called up the dead and the
distant, in the faithful creature's memory. “It is too
much!” she said, with streaming eyes, when her mistress
had finished. “I see those vine-covered hills—
and the white cottage—and the pear-tree—my father—
my mother. I hear the viol, and the flute, and the
shouting chorus of us young ones, as we stopped to join
them—but hark—is that the echo of my memory, or
are you answered from below?” Both listened intently,
and heard these words repeated, in the lowest audible
tone:


“Fear is for the willing slave,
Triumph waits the true and brave.”
Blanche grasped Ermen's arm, while Ermen exclaimed,
`It is the prince's voice!”

“Hush, Ermen, for the love of Heaven, hush!”

“Ay, my lady, but look, look!” At this moment a
procession of priests and attendants, bearing the host
to a dying man, were seen to issue from a monastery on
the opposite side of the street. By the torches they
carried, two persons were distinctly descried passing
from beneath the palace wall, and deliberately crossing
to the opposite side. They were muffled in the long
hooded russet cloaks worn by the pilgrims of Jerusalem,
whose order was designated by a broad white cross
wrought on the back of the cloak. As the host passed
them, the pilgrims dropped on their knees; and then
rising, exchanged a salutation with the priests. The
procession passed on rapidly, and the pilgrims appeared
to be slowly following in their train, till they turned a
corner, and disappeared. Blanche was certain, that
one of these seeming pilgrims was the prince; but

[figure description] Page 081.[end figure description]

while she wondered what wild hope could have led him
to such a rash exposure, and held her breath, and
strained her ear for what she fancied was the sound of
rapidly returning footsteps, she heard voices in the
gallery at her door. The bolts were turned, and Father
Bernard entered. “Now, holy father,” said the
warder, as he admitted him, “for the love of mercy
shrive the lady quickly; for as I hope St. Peter will
turn the key of heaven for me, I scarcely dare to break
the strict order of the queen, even at the word of her
confessor.”

“No more words, good fellow. Here is gold for
thee. If thou hast unabsolved sins do some act of
mercy with it. Now get thee out—lock the door, and
thou shalt have notice when I have done my office with
the lady.”

The man obeyed. Father Bernard turned towards
Blanche, who approached him with an expression of
the most earnest inquiry. He would have replied to it,
but his heart was swelling, and his pulses throbbing;
the tide of long-repressed feeling overwhelmed him
like a flood, and he was on the point of stretching out
his arms to her, when the thought that he might ruin
all renerved him, and he said, in a voice so tremulous
as scarcely to be intelligible, “I have come to attempt
your rescue—there is not a moment to be lost—silence,
caution, and celerity alone can save us. Do you follow,
Ermen. Obey any signal I may make, but speak
never a word. We must first pass through the bed-chamber
of the queen. She is at her prayers in the
adjoining oratory. Her jealous ear will catch the least
sound. Off with your shoes, Ermen—they creak like
a rusty hinge. But, woman, what are you doing?—
there is no time for other preparation.”

“Beshrew me,” thought Ermen, “if my life were
worth saving if I left this,” and she hastily finished

[figure description] Page 082.[end figure description]

tying on a petticoat, into which she had providently
quilted her mistress' gold and jewels.

Blanche wrapped herself in her veil, while the priest
was cautiously unlocking the door, with a key which
he had drawn from his bosom. As he opened the door
he recoiled at an unexpected obstacle. Here it will
be necessary to pause for a moment, to present some
particulars that materially affected the safety of our
fugitives. On their left was a window, in a deep recess,
before which hung a curtain that had been dropped
for the night. On the opposite side of the apartment
was an open door that led into a small bathing-room,
lighted by a suspended silver lamp, and dimmed by the
soft fumes of a perfumed bath, prepared for the queen.
The object that had startled the priest was the queen's
tire-woman, who sat in the middle of the room,
awaiting her mistress' protracted devotions; her drowsiness
had overcome her, and she had fallen asleep.
As she was a plump young creature, seemingly fullfed,
her sleep was profound, and like to continue so,
as was indicated by the nasal sounds she emitted, and
which fortunately drowned any inevitable noise our
passengers might make. But there was a vigilant little
spirit that could not be cluded, in the shape of a German
poodle, lying on the maid's lap, with his head peering
over her shoulder. His prying eye was strained
towards the door, but he made no sign of molestation
at the accustomed sight of Father Bernard. Blanche
too, who had often caressed him, was permitted to enter
without a greeting; but no sooner had poor Ermen
passed in, and the priest closed the door, than the
poodle, who felt that she was “a questionable shape,
and he would speak to her;” set up that petulant and
continuous barking peculiar to this species of animal;
and which neither menaces, nor bribery, nor any thing
but the voice of the master can still. A sound was

[figure description] Page 083.[end figure description]

heard from the oratory. It was too late to retreat,
and impossible to go forward, as there was a guard at
the outer door, who was to be passed by force, or artifice.
In this strait the fugitives glided behind the
curtain already mentioned. Here they stood, breathless,
while the queen unbolted her door, opened it—
looked round, saying, “Ha! my pet, is it only you?—
hush—hush, I'll soon be with you.” She reclosed the
door. The priest gave her time to recommence her
prayers, and then darted from his retreat, hoping they
should reach the outer door before the poodle could renew
hostilities; but at the first glance at Ermen he
again set up his relentless din. Ermen now took
her defence upon herself, and answering to his challenge,
seized him by the throat, and dashed him into the
bath, and before the little creature had time to recover
his breath from the suddenness and fright of the immersion,
they had gained the gallery, and closed the
door behind them. Here they were challenged by the
sentinel, who, however, supposing they had just left
the queen's presence, and were going forth at her pleasure,
permitted them to pass. There was probably
something hurried and stealthy in their manner, that
awakened his suspicions, for he immediately followed
them, and then checked himself, saying mentally,
“I am a fool! It is impossible the priest should have
taken the Lady Blanche out of durance without the
queen's knowledge. And if he has he must return.
The devil himself cannot cheat the Hun guards at the
foot of the grand staircase!”

This was too true: Father Bernard knew that with
those wary and resolute guards, who never wavered
from the letter of their orders, neither force nor artifice
would avail, and he had taken his measures accordingly.
After making two turns in the gallery, they descended
a short flight of steps to a platform, where there was a
window that overlooked the street, and was about

[figure description] Page 084.[end figure description]

twenty feet above it. The priest cautiously opened the
window, and made a signal, which was returned from
below. He whispered to Blanche, “Now, my child,
be of good courage. I must leave you, but as true a
heart, and a stronger arm than mine awaits you.”

“The prince?”

“Ay, ay, Blanche, the prince, and one faithful auxiliary.
I remain here to do one more duty, and
then, all perils past, God grant we may meet again—
his shield be over you.” He then drew a ladder of ropes
from beneath his cloak, uncoiled, and having fastened it
to a staple in the window, dropped it. It was received
below, made fast, and Blanche descended, and was in
her lover's arms. The past, the present, the future,
were blended, in one brief instant, of fear, joy, and hope.
Such instants outweigh hours of peril and months of
suffering.

In the mean while Ermen mounted the ladder, which,
though it had scarcely felt Blanche's fragile form,
stretched beneath Ermen's ponderous frame, swaying
backward and forward. “It's the weight of my petticoat,”
thought Ermen, and most heartily she wished her
riches had their usual quality of wings, and would fly
away with her, or from her. “Mother of mercy save
me!” she cried.

“Be silent, woman, and hold fast,” said a stern
voice from below.

“Hold fast, indeed! does he deem me such a fool
as to let go, while I'm flying like a kite here between
heaven and earth, and t'other place gaping under me;”
but this response and prayers to every saint in her memory,
were thought, not spoken. Not a sound escaped
her till her foot touched terra firma, when her feelings
were relieved by one long satisfactory groan. She and
her mistress were immediately enveloped in cloaks
and hoods, similar to those worn by the prince and his
attendant.

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