“’Tis well for you, but for me!” said the King, bitterly.

“Ah, Sire,” exclaimed the Cardinal, “did not the Son of God himself set you an example?  It is by the model of every perfection that we regulate our counsels; and if the monument due to the precious remains of your mother is not yet raised, Heaven is my witness that the works were retarded through the fear of afflicting your heart by bringing back the recollection of her death.  But blessed be the day in which I have been permitted to speak to you on the subject!  I myself shall say the first mass at Saint-Denis, when we shall see her deposited there, if Providence allows me the strength.”

The countenance of the King assumed a more affable yet still cold expression; and the Cardinal, thinking that he could go no farther that evening in persuasion, suddenly resolved to make a more powerful move, and to attack the enemy in front.  Still keeping his eyes firmly fixed upon the King, he said, coldly: 

“And was it for this you consented to my death?”

“Me!” said the King.  “You have been deceived; I have indeed heard of a conspiracy, and I wished to speak to you about it; but I have commanded nothing against you.”

“’The conspirators do not say so, Sire; but I am bound to believe your Majesty, and I am glad for your sake that men were deceived.  But what advice were you about to condescend to give me?”

“I—­I wished to tell you frankly, and between ourselves, that you will do well to beware of Monsieur—­”

“Ah, Sire, I can not now heed it; for here is a letter which he has just sent to me for you.  He seems to have been guilty even toward your Majesty.”

The King read in astonishment: 

   Monseigneur:  I am much grieved at having once more failed in the
   fidelity which I owe to your Majesty.  I humbly entreat you to allow
   me to ask a thousand pardons, with the assurances of my submission
   and repentance. 
        Your very humble servant,
                    Gaston.

“What does this mean?” cried Louis; “dare they arm against me also?”

“Also!” muttered the Cardinal, biting his lips; “yes, Sire, also; and this makes me believe, to a certain degree, this little packet of papers.”

While speaking, he drew a roll of parchment from a piece of hollowed elder, and opened it before the eyes of the King.

“This is simply a treaty with Spain, which I think does not bear the signature of your Majesty.  You may see the twenty articles all in due form.  Everything is here arranged—­the place of safety, the number of troops, the supplies of men and money.”

“The traitors!” cried the King, in great agitation; “they must be seized.  My brother renounces them and repents; but do not fail to arrest the Duc de Bouillon.”

“It shall be done, Sire.”

“That will be difficult, in the middle of the army in Italy.”