“One seems to be the scabbard, the other the blade,” whispered Albert de Gondi in her ear. “Well, gentlemen,” said Catherine at last, unable to restrain a smile, “has your master given you permission to unite in a public conference, at which you will be converted by the arguments of the Fathers of the Church who are the glory of our State?” “We have no master but the Lord,” said Chaudieu. “But surely you will allow some little authority to the king of France?” said Catherine, smiling. “And much to the queen,” said de Beze, bowing low. “You will find,” continued the queen, “that our most submissive subjects are heretics.” “Ah, madame!” cried Coligny, “we will indeed endeavor to make you a noble and peaceful kingdom! Europe has profited, alas! by our internal divisions. For the last fifty years she has had the advantage of one-half of the French people being against the other half.” “Are we here to sing anthems to the glory of heretics,” said the Connetable, brutally. “No, but to bring them to repentance,” whispered the Cardinal de Lorraine in his ear; “we want to coax them by a little sugar.” “Do you know what I should have done under the late king?” said the Connetable, angrily. “I’d have called in the provost and hung those two knaves, then and there, on the gallows of the Louvre.” “Well, gentlemen, who are the learned men whom you have selected as our opponents?” inquired the queen, imposing silence on the Connetable by a look. “Duplessis-Mornay and Theodore de Beze will speak on our side,” replied Chaudieu. “The court will doubtless go to Saint-Germain, and as it would be improper that this _colloquy_ should take place in a royal residence, we will have it in the little town of Poissy,” said Catherine. “Shall we be safe there, madame?” asked Chaudieu. “Ah!” replied the queen, with a sort of naivete, “you will surely know how to take precautions. The Admiral will arrange all that with my cousins the Guises and de Montmorency.” “The devil take them!” cried the Connetable, “I’ll have nothing to do with it.” “How do you contrive to give such strength of character to your converts?” said the queen, leading Chaudieu apart. “The son of my furrier was actually sublime.” “We have faith,” replied Chaudieu. At this moment the hall presented a scene of animated groups, all discussing the question of the proposed assembly, to which the few words said by the queen had already given the name of the “Colloquy of Poissy.” Catherine glanced at Chaudieu and was able to say to him unheard:-- “Yes, a new faith!” “Ah, madame, if you were not blinded by your alliance with the court of Rome, you would see that we are returning to the true doctrines of Jesus Christ, who, recognizing the equality of souls, bestows upon all men equal rights on earth.”