Louis XIII of France was at this moment an illustration of the principle.  His boyhood and his youth had alike been familiar only with intrigue, deception, jealousy, and falsehood.  His habits were at once saturnine and selfish; his temper gloomy and distrustful, and his feelings cold and self-centred.  His youth had already shadowed forth his manhood.

De Luynes was aware that he should experience little difficulty in finding the man he sought, when he assured his royal master that he knew one bold enough to attempt the life of Concini; his selection was indeed already made, and he had no misgiving of a refusal.  The Baron de Vitry, captain of the bodyguard then on duty at the Louvre, and who was peculiarly obnoxious to the Italian favourite, returned his hate so openly that he refused to salute him as he entered and quitted the palace, and publicly declared that no command, come from whence it might, should ever compel him to do so.[278] De Luynes no sooner felt that a man of this determination might be useful than he sought his friendship; and now that the conspiracy had become ripe, he sent to invite him to an interview, during which he assured him that the King had great confidence not only in his affection for his person, but also in his inclination to serve him when the opportunity should present itself; that he believed him capable of great deeds, and that he would confide his life to him.

De Vitry was a soldier of fortune, dependent upon his sword, and the little sentiment that he possessed was at once awakened by so unexpected a communication.  As a natural consequence, therefore, he protested his readiness to risk life and limb at the pleasure of his Majesty; and declared that, whatever might be the nature of the service required of him, he would execute it without hesitation or remonstrance.

On receiving this pledge, De Luynes, after exacting an oath of secrecy and obedience, beckoned to his companion to follow him; and throwing open the door of the royal closet, which was never closed against him, he introduced De Vitry without further preamble into the presence of the King.

“M. de Vitry,” said Louis, when the favourite had explained the errand of the captain of the royal guard, “I thank you for your zeal, and I have faith in its sincerity.  The Marechal d’Ancre has conspired against my life.  He must sleep to-morrow night in the Bastille.”

“He shall be there, Sire, should the fortress still possess a bolt to draw upon him, if it be your royal will that I accomplish his arrest.”

“M. de Vitry, you will have earned a marshal’s baton.”

“Sire!” exclaimed the soldier, dropping on his knee before the King, “I will obey you to the death.”

“I must never again be insulted by his presence,” said Louis, fixing his eyes, which flashed for an instant with a threatening light, full upon the upturned countenance of De Vitry.  “Rise, Sir,” he added as he turned suddenly away, “I have perfect confidence in your fidelity.”