Henry spoke to the king firmly but courteously, reminding him how, contrary to English advice, he had followed other counsellors to the neglect of Brittany, and had broken his promises to the queen.  He concluded by urging him to advance into that country in person, but did not pledge himself on behalf of her Majesty to any further assistance.  “To this,” said Umton, “the king gave a willing ear, and replied, with many thanks, and without disallowing of anything that I alleged, yielding many excuses of his want of means, not of disposition, to provide a remedy, not forgetting to acknowledge her Majesty’s care of him and his country, and especially of Brittany, excusing much the bad disposition of his counsellors, and inclining much to my motion to go in person thither, especially because he might thereby give her Majesty better satisfaction; . . . . and protesting that he would either immediately himself make war there in those parts or send an army thither.  I do not doubt,” added the ambassador, “but with good handling her Majesty may now obtain any reasonable matter for the conservation of Brittany, as also for a place of retreat for the English, and I urge continually the yielding of Brest into her Majesty’s hands, whereunto I find the king well inclined, if he might bring it to pass.”

Alexander passed a few days in Paris, where he was welcomed with much cordiality, recruiting his army for a brief period in the land of Brie, and then—­broken in health but entirely successful—­he dragged himself once more to Spa to drink the waters.  He left an auxiliary force with Mayenne, and promised—­infinitely against his own wishes—­to obey his master’s commands and return again before the winter to do the League’s work.

And thus Alexander had again solved a difficult problem.  He had saved for his master and for the League the second city of France and the whole coast of Normandy.  Rouen had been relieved in masterly manner even as Paris had been succoured the year before.  He had done this, although opposed by the sleepless energy and the exuberant valour of the quick-witted Navarre, and although encumbered by the assistance of the ponderous Duke of Mayenne.  His military reputation, through these two famous reliefs and retreats, grew greater than ever.

No commander of the age was thought capable of doing what he had thus done.  Yet, after all, what had he accomplished?  Did he not feel in his heart of hearts that he was but a strong and most skilful swimmer struggling for a little while against an ocean-tide which was steadily sweeping him and his master and all their fortunes far out into the infinite depths?

Something of this breathed ever in his most secret utterances.  But, so long as life was in him, his sword and his genius were at the disposal of his sovereign, to carry out a series of schemes as futile as they were nefarious.