"Ah! thither flies the bolt, does it?" said La Mole, with score. "But it strikes not, my lord. If I may claim your lordship's attention to these papers for a short space of time, I should need no other answer to this strange accusation, so strangely thrown out against me." And he produced from his person several documents concealed about it, and laid them before the Duke, who had now again thrown himself into his chair. "This letter from Condé--this from La Brèche--these from others of the Protestant party. Cast your eyes over them? Of whom do they speak? Is it of Henry of Navarre? Or is it of the Duke of Alençon? Whom do they look to as their chief and future King?" "Philip, forgive me--I have wronged you," said the vacillating Duke, as he turned over these documents from members of the conspiracy that had been formed in his own favour. "But, gracious Virgin!--I now remember my mother knows all--she is fearfully incensed against you. She spoke of your arrest." "Already!" exclaimed La Mole. "Then it is time to act! I would not that it had been so soon. But Charles is suffering--he can no longer wield the sceptre. Call out the guard at once. Summon your fiends. Seize on the Louvre." "No--no--it is too late," replied the Duke; "my mother knows all, I tell you. No matter whether for me or for another, but you have dared to attack the rights of my brother of Anjou--and that is a crime she never will forgive." "Then act at once," continued his favourite, with energy. "We have bold hearts and ready arms. Before to-night the Regency shall be yours; at Charles's death the Crown." "No, no--La Mole--impossible--I cannot--will not," said Alençon in despair. "Monseigneur!" cried La Mole, with a scorn he could not suppress. "You must fly, Philip--you must fly!" resumed his master. "No--since you will not act, I will remain and meet my fate!" "Fly, fly, I tell you! You would compromise me, were you to remain," repeated the Duke. "Every moment endangers our safety." "If such be your command," replied La Mole coldly, "rather than sacrifice a little of your honour, I will fly." "They will be here shortly," continued Alençon hurriedly. "Here, take this cloak--this jewelled hat. They are well known to be mine. Wrap the cloak about you. Disguise your height--your gait. They will take you for me. The corridors are obscure--you may cross the outer court undiscovered--and once in safety, you will join our friends. Away--away!" La Mole obeyed his master's bidding, but without the least appearance of haste or fear. "And I would have made that man a king!" he murmured to himself, as, dressed in the Duke's cloak and hat, he plunged into the tortuous and gloomy corridors of the Louvre. "That man a king! Ambition made me mad. Ay! worse than mad--a fool!"