“Unless, which is possible, on account of the rank of the accused, they arrange it all quietly.” “That would be my advice, certainly; it is better in family affairs.” Aurilly glanced at the prince. “Ma foi,” said Maugiron, “I know one thing; that in the king’s place I would not spare the high heads, which are always the most guilty. I would make an example of one or two--one, at all events.” “I think it would be well to revive the famous invention of sacks.” “What was that?” “A royal fancy in the year 1550; they shut up a man in a sack, in company with three or four cats, and threw them into the water. The minute the cats felt the water they attacked the man, and there passed in the sack things which unluckily could never be seen.” “Really, Quelus, you are a well of science, and your conversation is most interesting.” “They could not apply this invention to the chiefs; they have the right to be beheaded; but to the small fry, I mean the favorites, squires, and lute-players.” “Gentlemen----” stammered Aurilly. “Do not reply to them, Aurilly,” said François, “it cannot be addressed to me.” As he spoke the king appeared on the threshold. The duke rose. “Sire,” cried he, “I appeal against the unworthy treatment I meet with from your followers.” Henri did not seem to hear. “Good morning, Quelus,” said he kissing his favorite on both cheeks; “good morning, the sight of you rejoices my soul, and you, my poor Maugiron, how are you?” “I am terribly ennuyé, sire; when I undertook to guard your brother, I thought he was more amusing. Oh! the tiresome prince; are you sure he is the son of your father and mother?” “Sire! you hear,” cried the prince, “is it your wish that your brother should be insulted?” “Silence, monsieur,” said Henri, “I do not like my prisoners to complain.” “Prisoner, or not, I am your----” “The title which you are about to invoke,” interrupted the king, “is fatal to you. My brother guilty, is doubly guilty.” “But if he is not?” “He is.” “Of what crime?” “Of having displeased me.” “Sire, have our family quarrels need of witnesses?” “You are right, monsieur. My friends, let me speak a little to my brother.” “I will take Aurilly,” said Maugiron. “Now we are alone, monsieur,” said the king, when they were gone. “I waited for this moment impatiently.” “And I also; ah, you want my crown, my worthy Eteocles; you made of the League a means, and of the throne an aim, and were consecrated in a corner of Paris, to be able to proclaim yourself to the Parisians shining with holy oil.” “Alas! your majesty will not let me speak.” “What for?--to lie, or to tell me things which I know already? But no, you would lie; for to confess what you have done, would be to confess that you merit death. You would lie, and I would spare you that shame.” “My brother, is it your intention to overwhelm me with outrages?”