“But who could I name, François? who would accept this perilous post? Yes, perilous; for do you not see that he intended me to appoint him chief, and that, should I name any one else to the post, he would treat him as an enemy?” “Name some one so powerful that, supported by you, he need not fear all the three Lorraine princes together.” “Ah, my good brother, I know no such person.” “Look round you, brother.” “I know no one but you and Chicot who are really my friends.” “Well, brother.” Henri looked at the duke as if a veil had fallen from his eyes. “Surely you would never consent, brother! It is not you who could teach all these bourgeois their exercise, who could look over the discourses of the preachers, who, in case of battle, would play the butcher in the streets of Paris; for all this, one must be triple, like the duke, and have a right arm called Charles and a left called Louis. What! you would like all this? You, the first gentleman of our court! Mort de ma vie! how people change with the age!” “Perhaps I would not do it for myself, brother, but I would do it for you.” “Excellent brother!” said Henri, wiping away a tear which never existed. “Then,” said the duke, “it would not displease you for me to assume this post?” “Displease me! On the contrary, it would charm me.” François trembled with joy. “Oh! if your majesty thinks me worthy of this confidence.” “Confidence! When you are the chief, what have I to fear? The League itself? That cannot be dangerous can it, François?” “Oh, sire?” “No, for then you would not be chief, or at least, when you are chief, there will be no danger. But, François, the duke is doubtless certain of this appointment, and he will not lightly give way.” “Sire, you grant me the command?” “Certainly.” “And you wish me to have it?” “Particularly; but I dare not too much displease M. de Guise.” “Oh, make yourself easy, sire; if that be the only obstacle, I pledge myself to arrange it.” “When?” “At once.” “Are you going to him? That will be doing him too much honor.” “No, sire; he is waiting for me.” “Where?” “In my room.” “Your room! I heard the cries of the people as he left the Louvre.” “Yes; but after going out at the great door he came back by the postern. The king had the right to the first visit, but I to the second.” “Ah, brother, I thank you for keeping up our prerogative, which I had the weakness so often to abandon. Go, then, François, and do your best.” François bent down to kiss the king’s hand, but he, opening his arms, gave him a warm embrace, and then the duke left the room to go to his interview with the Duc de Guise. The king, seeing his brother gone, gave an angry growl, and rapidly made his way through the secret corridor, until he reached a hiding-place whence he could distinctly hear the conversation between the two dukes.