“Do you fear?” I asked, being myself very much afraid, for we were dealing with an absolute monarch, devoid of conscience, devoid of caution save when prompted by cowardice, but plenteously imbued with venom in his heart and all things evil in his soul.

“I fear?” cried Frances, tossing her head defiantly.

I thought surely no woman ever was as beautiful as this one, in whose heart there was no fear, no doubt of self, no faltering in the face of danger.  I asked her to tell me of her plans, and she answered:—­

“I have no plan save to see the king.  Then the plans will come of themselves.”

CHAPTER XIII

FRANCES DELIVERS THE TREATY

George went to the Shield Gallery in Whitehall at ten o’clock the next morning, where he found his Majesty, the Lord Chancellor, and a half score of the king’s creatures, including Berkeley, Wentworth, Crofts, Jermyn, and others of like quality.

These were the men with whom George had to deal.  He was known intimately to each of them, and was hated most heartily by all save the Chancellor.

When George entered the Gallery, the king took his seat in a great chair of state on a dais at one end of the room, while his counsellors ranged themselves on either side.  I, with a dozen other gentlemen, had been commanded to be present, not as advisers, but as attendants on the king to give dignity to the occasion.

George, having been sent to England secretly, had brought no retinue, since it was desired by every one connected with the affair that his presence should attract as little attention as possible and thus avoid alarming London.  When George went to Whitehall, he was accompanied only by De Grammont and a gentleman of the count’s household.

While George knelt before his Majesty, asking leave to speak for the French king, his master, I could not help thinking of the strange contiguity of antagonisms so frequently observed in one’s journey through this life, nor could I help wondering what would be the fate of the bold man kneeling before the king if his Majesty could but see through the Abbe’s disguise.

But I had little time for reflection, since George was not one who allowed matters to drag.  On receiving permission to speak, he rose and went to the point at once in badly broken English, which I shall not try to reproduce.

“I shall not take up your Majesty’s time with idle words,” said the Abbe, glancing at a written memorandum which he held in his hand.  “My master, King Louis, sends greeting to his royal brother, and hopes that no cause of difference may ever arise to darken the blue sky of peace that now hangs over two kings, potent as are your Majesty and my master, and two nations, happy, rich, and powerful as are the noble realms of France and England.  Believing the possession by either monarch of cities or territory within the other’s realm to be a constant menace to this much-desired peace and amity, my master, the king of France, sends me, his humble ambassador, with plenary authority, the instrument of which now lies with your Majesty’s noble Lord Chancellor, to make offer to your Majesty of the great sum of one hundred thousand pounds for the good city of Dunkirk, which is on territory contiguous to my master’s domain.”