These defections created a great void at the Louvre, but the Queen-mother disdained to express her mortification; and, on the contrary, affected the most entire confidence in the nobles who still maintained their adherence to the Crown.

She was well aware that Conde had lost much of his popularity by abandoning the interests of the people at the Treaty of Loudun, and that the Protestants similarly resented the selfishness with which he had sacrificed their cause to his ambition; while she had, moreover, ascertained that the flight of the Duc de Guise and his brother had been simply induced by misrepresentation, and that through the medium of the females of their family they might readily be recalled.  These circumstances gave her courage; and when, on the morning of the 2nd of September, she came to the council of war, which was held in the Augustine Monastery and presided over by the Marechal de Brissac, accompanied by her two sons, she remarked with undisguised gratification that more than two thousand nobles were already assembled.  When the King, the Queen-mother, Monsieur, the great dignitaries, and the ministers had taken their seats, the doors were thrown open to all who chose to enter; and in a few moments the vast hall was densely crowded.  Silence was then proclaimed; M. de Brissac declared that the session was open, and the President Jeannin forthwith commenced reading, in the name of the King, the celebrated declaration explaining the arrest of the Prince de Conde; proclaiming him a traitor, and, finally, promising a free pardon to all who had aided and abetted him in his disloyal practices, on condition of their appearing within fifteen days to solicit the mercy of his Majesty, in default of which concession they would be involved in the same accusation of lese-majeste[257]

More than once, during the delivery of this discourse, many of the nobles who were attached to the faction of the Princes gave utterance to a suppressed murmur; but it was not until its close that they openly and vociferously expressed their dissatisfaction.  Then, indeed, the hall became a scene of confusion and uproar which baffles all description; voice was heard above voice; the clang of weapons as they were struck against the stone floor sounded ominously; and the terrified young King, after glancing anxiously towards De Luynes, who returned his look by another quite as helpless, fastened his gaze upon his mother as if from her alone he could hope for protection.  Nor was his mute appeal made in vain, for although an expression of anxiety could be traced upon the noble features of Marie de Medicis, they betrayed no feeling of alarm.  She was pale but calm, and her eyes glanced over the assembly as steadily as though she herself played no part in the drama which was enacting before her.  For a few moments she remained motionless, as if absorbed in this momentous scrutiny; but ultimately she turned and uttered a few words in a low voice to Bassompierre, who was standing