Mary Stuart knew little at the time as to why they had so suddenly removed from Blois, but François soon told her, something after this wise: "Our mother," said he, "is deeply concerned with affairs of state. There is some conspiracy against her and your uncles, the Guises." "Tell me," she demanded, "concerning this dreadful conspiracy." "Were you not suspicious," he asked, querulously, "when we left for Amboise so suddenly?" "_Ah, non, mon François_, methought that we came here to hold a jousting tourney and to hunt in the forest...." "Well, at any rate, we are secure here from Turk, or Jew, or Huguenot, my queen," replied the king. Within a short space a council was called in the great hall of Amboise, which the Huguenot chiefs, Condé, Coligny, the Cardinal de Chatillon,--who appears to have been a sort of a religious renegade,--were requested to attend. A conciliatory edict was to be prepared, and signed by the king, as a measure for gaining time and learning further the plans of the conspirators. This edict ultimately was signed, but it was in force but a short time and was a subterfuge which the youthful king deep in his heart--and he publicly avowed the fact--deeply resented. Furthermore it did practically nothing toward quelling the conspiracy. Through the plains of Touraine and over the hills from Anjou the conspirators came in straggling bands, to rendezvous for a great _coup de main_ at Amboise. They halted at farms and hid in vineyards, but the royalists were on the watch and one after another the wandering bands were captured and held for a bloody public massacre when the time should become ripe. In all, two thousand or more were captured, including Jean Barri de la Renaudie. This man was the leader, but he was merely a bold adventurer, seeking his own advantage, and caring little what cause employed his peculiar talents. This was his last affair, however, for his corpse soon hung in chains from Amboise's bridge. Condé, Coligny, and the other Calvinists soon learned that the edict was not worth the paper on which it was written. After the two thousand had been dispersed or captured the "queen-mother" threw off the mask. She led the trembling child-king and queen toward the southern terrace, where, close beneath the windows of the château, was built a scaffold, covered with black cloth, before which stood the executioner clothed in scarlet. The prisoners were ranged by hundreds along the outer rampart, guarded by archers and musketeers. The windows of the royal apartment were open and here the company placed themselves to witness the butchery to follow. Speechless with horror sat the young king and queen, until finally, as another batch of mutilated corpses were thrown into the river below, the young queen swooned. "My mother," said François, "I, too, am overcome by this horrible sight. I crave your Highness's permission to retire; the blood of my subjects, even of my enemies, is too horrible to contemplate."