“My worthy people,” said the queen as she entered, “the king, my son, and I have come to sign the marriage-contract of the son of my furrier,—­but only on condition that he remains a Catholic.  A man must be a Catholic to enter Parliament; he must be a Catholic to own land which derives from the Crown; he must be a Catholic if he would sit at the king’s table.  That is so, is it not, Pinard?”

The secretary of State entered and showed the letters-patent.

“If we are not all Catholics,” said the little king, “Pinard will throw those papers into the fire.  But we are all Catholics here, I think,” he continued, casting his somewhat haughty eyes over the company.

“Yes, sire,” replied Christophe, bending his injured knees with difficulty, and kissing the hand which the king held out to him.

Queen Catherine stretched out her hand to Christophe and, raising him hastily, drew him aside into a corner, saying in a low voice:—­

“Ah ca! my lad, no evasions here.  Are you playing above-board now?”

“Yes, madame,” he answered, won by the dazzling reward and the honor done him by the grateful queen.

“Very good.  Monsieur Lecamus, the king, my son, and I permit you to purchase the office of the goodman Groslay, counsellor of the Parliament, here present.  Young man, you will follow, I hope, in the steps of your predecessor.”

De Thou advanced and said:  “I will answer for him, madame.”

“Very well; draw up the deed, notary,” said Pinard.

“Inasmuch as the king our master does us the favor to sign my daughter’s marriage contract,” cried Lallier, “I will pay the whole price of the manor.”

“The ladies may sit down,” said the young king, graciously:  “As a wedding present to the bride I remit, with my mother’s consent, all my dues and rights in the manor.”

Old Lecamus and Lallier fell on their knees and kissed the king’s hand.

“Mordieu! sire, what quantities of money these burghers have!” whispered de Gondi in his ear.

The young king laughed.

“As their Highnesses are so kind,” said old Lecamus, “will they permit me to present to them my successor, and ask them to continue to him the royal patent of furrier to their Majesties?”

“Let us see him,” said the king.

Lecamus led forward his successor, who was livid with fear.

“If my mother consents, we will now sit down to table,” said the little king.

Old Lecamus had bethought himself of presenting to the king a silver goblet which he had bought of Benvenuto Cellini when the latter stayed in Paris at the hotel de Nesle.  This treasure of art had cost the furrier no less than two thousand crowns.

“Oh! my dear mother, see this beautiful work!” cried the young king, lifting the goblet by its stem.

“It was made in Florence,” replied Catherine.

“Pardon me, madame,” said Lecamus, “it was made in Paris by a Florentine.  All that is made in Florence would belong to your Majesty; that which is made in France is the king’s.”