"Father, why not leave Vayenne for a little while?"
The priest smiled.
"You must be faint, and need rest and refreshment after your trying journey, or you would never give such foolish counsel. Does a man turn aside out of the track when the race is just won? These men are not our masters." And he struck the papers sharply with sudden passion. "The commands must come from us, not from them. This Roger Herrick is a good man, and I am sorry for him, but he stands in our path, and must be swept aside even as though he were rubbish. I shall have others papers to be delivered presently. Go, rest, Mercier, and have no fear. Within the city there is safety. Vayenne is living with closed gates."
Father Bertrand still smiled as Mercier went out, but the moment he was alone he turned to the papers again, and studied them carefully. And as he did so his face became grave, and there was an anxious look in his eyes.
[CHAPTER XXIV]
THE FORD BY LARNE
The moral effect of swift and determined action has won many a victory against strong and apparently overwhelming opposition. The sudden charge of a handful of desperate men has often demoralized a whole army, the reckless courage of even a single individual has constantly plucked success out of failure.
To possess the fertile lands of Montvilliers was a hereditary desire amongst the surrounding states. History recounted many a determined struggle in the past which had this end in view, but sometimes by diplomacy, sometimes by splendid and self-sacrificing courage, the attempt had always been frustrated. In later times mere force of arms was not sufficient to ensure success, the rivalry of the nations had to be taken into consideration; and so long as a strong man ruled in Montvilliers the conquest, or the partition, of the state was a difficult matter. This fact was so well understood that during the late Duke's lifetime there had been peace. If for a time his doubtful right to the throne had raised hopes that internal dissension would mean an appeal to the foreigner for help from one party or the other, the Duke had swiftly proved himself a man able to win the confidence of his people and to keep the throne which he had taken. The utter hopelessness of a successful invasion while such a man held the reins of government was apparent to all statesmen. Even such men as Father Bertrand, whose work was done in secret, could do no more than make preparation for the future, and foster that feeling of dissension which was certain to break out at the Duke's death. Pursuing the game which had been mapped out for him, Father Bertrand had played his cards cunningly. He had ingratiated himself with the old Duke, had openly espoused Felix's cause while in secret he had urged the right of Maurice, and had, at the same time, lent countenance to those who would make Christine de Liancourt Duchess. With the Duke's death, and with all these different interests dividing the state, the time to strike had surely come. Secretly the enemy was gradually gathered on the frontier, and their leaders were in constant communication with the Rue St. Romain. Many of these differences, however, seemed likely to adjust themselves at the critical moment, and then, to strengthen his hands, the priest had suddenly given his support to Roger Herrick, a stranger and a foreigner. Almost as soon as he had played this final card he recognized that he had made a mistake. True, there was plenty of opposition to the new Duke, but he was a strong man, equal to grappling with the difficulty, and moreover one who could keep his own counsel.