“And you had a reserve force to recover the gate which had been opened to them?” said the prince. “Monsieur le Marechal de Saint-Andre was there with five hundred men-at-arms.” The prince gave the highest praise to these military arrangements. “The lieutenant-general must have been fully aware of the plans of the Reformers, to have acted as he did,” he said in conclusion. “They were no doubt betrayed.” The prince was treated with increasing harshness. After separating him from his escort at the gates, the cardinal and the chancellor barred his way when he reached the staircase which led to the apartments of the king. “We are directed by his Majesty, monseigneur, to take you to your own apartments,” they said. “Am I, then, a prisoner?” “If that were the king’s intention you would not be accompanied by a prince of the Church, nor by me,” replied the chancellor. These two personages escorted the prince to an apartment, where guards of honor--so-called--were given him. There he remained, without seeing any one, for some hours. From his window he looked down upon the Loire and the meadows of the beautiful valley stretching from Amboise to Tours. He was reflecting on the situation, and asking himself whether the Guises would really dare anything against his person, when the door of his chamber opened and Chicot, the king’s fool, formerly a dependent of his own, entered the room. “They told me you were in disgrace,” said the prince. “You’d never believe how virtuous the court has become since the death of Henri II.” “But the king loves a laugh.” “Which king,--Francois II., or Francois de Lorraine?” “You are not afraid of the duke, if you talk in that way!” “He wouldn’t punish me for it, monseigneur,” replied Chicot, laughing. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?” “Hey! Isn’t it due to you on your return? I bring you my cap and bells.” “Can I go out?” “Try.” “Suppose I do go out, what then?” “I should say that you had won the game by playing against the rules.” “Chicot, you alarm me. Are you sent here by some one who takes an interest in me?” “Yes,” said Chicot, nodding. He came nearer to the prince, and made him understand that they were being watched and overheard. “What have you to say to me?” asked the Prince de Conde, in a low voice. “Boldness alone can pull you out of this scrape; the message comes from the queen-mother,” replied the fool, slipping his words into the ear of the prince. “Tell those who sent you,” replied Conde, “that I should not have entered this chateau if I had anything to reproach myself with, or to fear.” “I rush to report that lofty answer!” cried the fool.