Part 46 (1/2)
”It was for my sake, I know--all for my sake!” cried Claire, a burst of gladness triumphing in her voice. Valentine la Nina stopped and looked at her. If there had been only a light woman's satisfaction in one more proof of her power, she would never have gone on with what she came to do. But Valentine saw clearly, being one of the few who can judge their own s.e.x. She watched Claire from under her long lashes, and the smile which hovered about the corners of her mouth was tender, sweet, and pitiful. Valentine la Nina was making up her mind.
”Well, let us agree that it was 'for your sake,'” she said. ”Now it is your turn to do something for his. He is ill, in prison. If he is sent back to the galleys he will soon die of exposure, of torture, and of fatigue. If he, a prince of the House of France, weds with me, a daughter of the King of Spain, there will be peace. Great good will be done through all the world.”
”I do not care--I do not care,” cried Claire, ”let him first come and tell me himself.”
”But he cannot, I tell you,” said the other quietly; ”he is in the prison of Tarragona!”
”Well, then, let him write!” said Claire, ”why does he not write?”
Valentine la Nina produced a piece of paper, and handed it to Claire without a word. It was in John d'Albret's clear, clerkly hand. Claire and he had capped verses too often together by the light of Madame Granier's pine-cones for any mistake. She knew it instantly.
”Whatever this lady says is true, and if you have any feeling in your heart for your father, or love for me, do as she bids you!
”JEAN D'ALBRET DE BOURBON.”
Three times Claire read the message to make sure.
Then she spoke. ”What do you wish me to do? I am ready!”
”You will give this man up to me?”
”He never was mine to give, but if he had been, he is free to go--because he wills it!”
”I put my life in danger for him now--every moment I stay here,” said Valentine la Nina; ”Jean-aux-Choux will tell you so. Will you walk to the gates of death with me to deliver him whom you love?”
”I will,” said Claire, ”I will obey you--that is, I will obey him through you!”
”This you do for the love you bear to the man whom you give up to me?”
”For what else?” cried Claire, the tears starting in her eyes. ”Surely an honest girl may love a man? She may be ready even to give her life for him. But--she will not hold him against his will!”
”Then you will come with me to my father, the King of Spain?” Valentine persisted. ”Perhaps--I do not know--he will pardon Jean d'Albret at our request--perhaps he will send us, all three, to the fires of the Inquisition. That also I do not know!”
”And I do not care!” cried Claire; ”I will come!”
”For his sake alone?” queried Valentine, resolved to test the girl to the uttermost.
”For whose else?” cried Claire at last, exasperated; ”not for yours, I suppose! Nor yet for mine own! I have been searched for by your Inquisition bloodhounds before now. He saved me from that!”
”And I--all of you!” said Valentine la Nina to herself. ”But the price is somewhat heavy!”
Nevertheless, she had found Claire worthy.
CHAPTER XLVI.
KING AND KING'S DAUGHTER
Upon the high, black, slaty ledges of the Sierra of Guadarrama, winter descends early. Indeed, Penalara, looking down on the Escorial, keeps his snow-cap all the year. From the Dome of Philip the King, one may see in mid-August the snow-swirls greying his flanks and foot-hills almost to the limits of the convent domain.