out on the Loire, the rich country which makes such a beautiful valley between Amboise and Tours, and he was meditating on his situation, wondering what the Guises might dare to do to his person, when he heard the door of his room open, and saw the King's fool come in, Chicot, who had once been in his service.
"I heard you were in disgrace," said the Prince.
"You cannot think how sober the Court has become since the death of Henri II."
"And yet the King loves to laugh, surely."
"Which King? Francis II. or Francis of Lorraine?"
"Are you so fearless of the Duke that you speak so?"
"He will not punish me for that, sir," replied Chicot, smiling.
"And to what do I owe the honor of this visit?"
"Was it not due to you after your coming here? I have brought you my cap and bauble."
"I cannot get out then?"
"Try!"
"And if I do get out?"
"I will confess that you have won the game by playing against the rules."
"Chicot, you frighten me.—Have you been sent by some one who is interested in my fate?"
Chicot nodded "Yes." He went nearer to the Prince, and conveyed to him that they were watched and overheard.
"What have you to say to me?" asked Monsieur de Condé.
"That nothing but daring can get you out of the scrape," said the fool, whispering the words into his ear. "And this is from the Queen-mother."
"Tell those who have sent you," replied the Prince, "that I should never have come to this château if I had anything to blame myself for, or to fear."
"I fly to carry your bold reply," said the fool.
Two hours later, at one in the afternoon, before the King's dinner, the Chancellor and Cardinal de Tournon came to fetch the Prince to conduct him to Francis II. in the great hall where the Council had sat. There, before all the Court, the Prince de Condé affected surprise at the cool reception the King had given him, and he asked the reason.
"You are accused, cousin," said the Queen-mother sternly, "of having meddled with the plots of the Reformers, and you must prove yourself a faithful subject and a good Catholic if you wish to avert the King's anger from your House."
On hearing this speech, spoken by Catherine in the midst of hushed silence, as she stood with her hand in the King's arm and with the Duc d'Orléans on her left hand, the Prince de Condé drew back three steps, and with an impulse of dignified pride laid his hand on his sword, looking at the persons present.
"Those who say so, madame, lie in their throat!" he exclaimed in angry tones.
He flung his glove at the King's feet, saying:
"Let the man who will maintain his calumny stand forth!"
A shiver ran through the whole Court when the Duc de Guise was seen to quit his place; but instead of picking up the glove as they expected, he went up to the intrepid hunchback.
"If you need a second, Prince, I beg of you to accept my services," said he. "I will answer for you, and will show the Reformers how greatly they deceive themselves if they hope to have you for their leader."
The Prince de Condé could not help offering his hand to the Lieutenant-General of the kingdom. Chicot picked up the glove and restored it to Monsieur de Condé.
"Cousin," said the boy-King, "you should never draw your sword but in defence of your country.—Come to dinner."
The Cardinal de Lorraine, puzzled by his brother's action, led him off to their rooms. The Prince de Condé, having weathered the worst danger, gave his hand to Queen Mary Stuart to lead her to the dining-room; but, while making flattering speeches to the young Queen, he was trying to discern what snare was at this moment being laid for him by the Balafré's policy. In vain he racked his brain, he could not divine the Guises' scheme; but Queen Mary betrayed it.
"It would have been a pity," said she, laughing, "to see so clever a head fall; you must allow that my uncle is magnanimous."
"Yes, madame, for my head fits no shoulders but my own, although one is larger than the other.—But is it magnanimity in your uncle? Has he not rather gained credit at a cheap rate? Do you think it such an easy matter to have the law of a Prince of the Blood?"
"We have not done yet," replied she. "We shall see how you behave at the execution of the gentlemen, your friends, over which the Council have determined to make the greatest display."
"I shall do as the King does," said Condé.
"The King, the Queen-mother, and I shall all be present, with all the Court and the Ambassadors——"
"Quite a high day?" said the Prince ironically.
"Better than that," said the young Queen, "an auto-da-fè, a function of high political purport. The gentlemen of France must be subjugated by the Crown; they must be cured of their taste for faction and manœuvring——"
"You will not cure them of their warlike temper by showing them their danger, madame, and at this game you risk the Crown itself," replied the Prince.
At the end of this dinner, which was gloomy enough, Queen Mary was so unfortunately daring as to turn the conversation publicly on the trial which the nobles, taken under arms, were at that moment undergoing, and to speak of the necessity for giving the utmost solemnity to their execution.
"But, madame," said Francis II., "is it not enough for the King of France to know that the blood of so many brave gentlemen must be shed? Must it be a cause of triumph?"
"No, sir, but an example," replied Catherine.
"Your grandfather and your father were in the habit of seeing heretics burned," said Mary Stuart.
"The kings who reigned before me went their way," said Francis, "and I mean to go mine."
"Philip II.," Catherine went on, "who is a great king lately, when he was in the Netherlands, had an auto-da-fè postponed till he should have returned to Valladolid."
"What do you think about it, cousin?" said the King to the Prince de Condé.
"Sir, you cannot avoid going; the Papal Nuncio and the Ambassadors must be present. For my part, I am delighted to go if the ladies are to be of the party."
The Prince, at a glance from Catherine de' Medici, had boldly taken his line.
While the Prince de Condé was being admitted to the château of Amboise, the furrier to the two Queens was also arriving from Paris, brought thither by the uneasiness produced by the reports of the Rebellion, not only in himself and his family, but also in the Lalliers.
At the gate of the château, when the old man craved admission, the captain of the Guard, at the words "Queen's furrier," answered at once:
"My good man, if you want to be hanged,
