“What?”
“In three weeks it will be the Fête Dieu.”
“Well!”
“Are we to have some pretty little procession?”
“I am the most Christian king, and it is my duty to set an example to my subjects.”
“And you will, as usual, stop at the four great convents of Paris?”
“Yes.”
“At St. Geneviève?”
“Yes, that is the second I stop at.”
“Good.”
“Why do you ask?”
“Oh, nothing – I was curious. Now I know all I want, so good night, Henri!”
But just as Chicot prepared to leave, a great noise was heard.
“What is that noise?” said the king.
“It is ordained that I am not to sleep. Henri, you must get me a room in the town, or I must leave your service; the Louvre becomes insupportable.”
At this moment the captain of the guards entered, saying, “Sire, it is an envoy from M. le Duc d’Anjou.”
“With a suite?”
“No, sire, alone.”
“Then you must receive him doubly well, Henri, for he is a brave fellow.”
“Well,” said the king, very pale, but trying to look calm, “let all my court assemble in the great hall.”
CHAPTER LXXV.
WHICH IS ONLY THE END OF THE PRECEDING ONE
Henri sat on his throne in the great hall, and around him was grouped an eager crowd. He looked pale and frowning.
“Sire,” said Quelus to the king, “do you know the name of the ambassador?”
“No; but what does it matter?”
“Sire, it is M. de Bussy; the insult is doubled.”
“I see no insult,” said the king, with affected sang-froid.
“Let him enter,” continued he. Bussy, with his hat in his hand, and his head erect, advanced straight to the king, and waited, with his usual look of pride, to be interrogated.
“You here, M. de Bussy!” said the king; “I thought you were in Anjou.”
“Sire, I was, but you see I have quitted it.”
“And what brings you here?”
“The desire of presenting my humble respects to your majesty.”
The king and courtiers looked astonished; they expected a different answer.
“And nothing else?” said the king.
“I will add, sire, the orders I received from the Duc d’Anjou to join his respects to mine.”
“And the duke said nothing else?”
“Only that he was on the point of returning with the queen-mother, and wished me to apprise your majesty of the return of one of your most faithful subjects.”
The king was choked with surprise.
“Good morning, M. de Bussy,” said Chicot.
Bussy turned, astonished to find a friend in that place.
“Good day, M. Chicot; I am delighted to see you.”
“Is that all you have to say, M. de Bussy?” asked the king.
“Yes, sire; anything that remains to be said, will be said by the duke himself.”
The king rose and went away, and Bussy continued to converse with Chicot, until the king called to him. As soon as Bussy was alone, Quelus approached him.
“Good morning, M. Quelus,” said Bussy graciously; “may I have the honor of asking how you are?”
“Very bad.”
“Oh, mon Dieu! what is the matter?”
“Something annoys me infinitely.”
“Something! And are you not powerful enough to get rid of it?”
“It is not something, but some one, that M. Quelus means,” said Maugiron, advancing.