From the Memoirs of a Minister of FranceWeyman, Stanley John
General
From the Memoirs of a Minister of France
Weyman, Stanley John
Biographical fiction; France -- Kings and rulers -- Fiction; Henry IV, King of France, 1553-1610 -- Fiction
"It should not be neglected then," I said grimly. "I will tell him
presently what you say."
He fell back, looking foolish at that, at the very moment that Henry,
having taken another turn, dismissed Villeroy, who, wiser than the
puppy at my elbow, greeted me with particular civility as he passed.
Freed from him, Henry stood a moment hesitating. He told me afterwards
that he had not turned from me a yard before his heart smote him; and
that but for a mischievous curiosity to see how I should take it, he
would not have carried the matter so far. Be that as it may--and I do
not doubt this, any more than I ever doubted the reality of the
affection in which he held me--on a sudden he raised his hand and
beckoned to me.
I went down to him gravely, and not hurriedly. He looked at me with
some signs of confusion in his face. "You are late this morning," he
said.
"I have been on your Majesty's business," I answered.
"I do not doubt that," he replied querulously, his eyes wandering. "I
am not--I am troubled this morning." And after a fashion he had when
he was not at his ease, he ground his heel into the soil and looked
down at the mark. "The queen is not well. Sillery has seen her, and
will tell you so."
M. de Sillery, whose constant opposition to me at the council-board I
have elsewhere described, began to affirm it. I let him go on for a
little time, and then interrupted him brusquely. "I think it was you,"
I said, "who nominated Ferret to be one of the King's clerks."
"Ferret?" he exclaimed, reddening at my tone, while the King, who knew
me well, pricked up his ears.
"Yes," I said; "Ferret."
"And if so?" Sillery asked, haughtily. "What do you mean?"
"Only this," I said. "That if his Majesty will summon him to the
queen's closet, without warning or delay, and ask him in her presence
how much Madame de Verneuil gave him for the King's cipher, her
Majesty, I think, will learn something which she wishes to know."
"What?" the King cried. "You have discovered it? But he gave you a
receipt for the papers he took."
"For the papers he took with my knowledge--yes, sire."
"The rogue!" Sillery exclaimed viciously. "I will go and fetch him."
"Not so--with your Majesty's leave," I said, interposing quickly. "M.
de Sillery may say too much or too little. Let a lackey take a
message, bidding him go to the queen's closet, and he will suspect
nothing."
The King assented, and bade me go and give the order. When I returned,
he asked me anxiously if I felt sure that the man would confess.
"Yes, if you pretend to know all, sire," I answered. "He will think
that Madame has betrayed him."
"Very well," Henry said. "Then let us go."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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