“You think so, Henri?” “I am sure of it; my friends are brave.” “I never heard that the Angevins were cowards.” “No, doubtless; but my friends are so strong; look at Schomberg’s arm; what muscle!” “Ah! if you saw Autragues’s! Is that all that reassures you?” “No; come, and I will show you something.” “Where?” “In my room.” “And this something makes you confident of victory?” “Yes.” “Come, then.” “Wait, and let me take leave of them. Adieu, my good friends,” murmured the king, as he stooped and imprinted a light kiss on each of their foreheads. Chicot was not superstitious, but as he looked on, his imagination pictured a living man making his adieux to the dead. “It is singular,” thought he. “I never felt so before--poor fellows.” As soon as the king quitted the room, D’Epernon opened his eyes; and, jumping out of bed, began to efface, as well as he could, the spots of blood on his clothes. Then he went to bed again. As for Henri, he conducted Chicot to his room, and opened a long ebony coffer lined with white satin. “Look!” said he. “Swords!” “Yes! but blessed swords, my dear friend.” “Blessed! by whom?” “By our holy father the Pope, who granted me this favor. To send this box to Rome and back, cost me twenty horses and four men.” “Are they sharp?” “Doubtless; but their great merit is that they are blessed.” “Yes, I know that; but still I should like to be sure they are sharp.” “Pagan!” “Let us talk of something else.” “Well, be quick.” “You want to sleep?” “No, to pray.” “In that case we will talk. Have you sent for M. d’Anjou?” “Yes, he is waiting below.” “What are you going to do with him?” “Throw him into the Bastile.” “That is very wise: only choose a dungeon that is deep and safe--such for example, as those which were occupied by the Constable de St. Paul, or Armagnac.” “Oh! be easy.” “I know where they sell good black velvet, my son.” “Chicot! he is my brother.” “Ah! true; the family mourning is violet. Shall you speak to him?” “Yes, certainly, if only to show him that his plots are discovered.” “Hum!” “Do you disapprove?” “In your place I should cut short the conversation, and double the imprisonment.” “Let them bring here the Duc d’Anjou,” said the king. A minute after the duke entered, very pale and disarmed. Crillon followed him. “Where did you find him?” asked the king. “Sire, his highness was not at home, but I took possession of his hotel in the king’s name, and soon after he returned, and we arrested him without resistance.” “That is fortunate.” Then, turning to the prince, he said, “Where were you, monsieur?” “Wherever I was, sire, be sure it was on your business.” “I doubt it.” François bowed. “Come, tell me where you were while your accomplices were being arrested.” “My accomplices!” “Yes; your accomplices.” “Sire, your majesty is making some mistake.” “Oh! this time you shall not escape me; your measure of crime is full.”