“_Par exemple, ma belle,_ you give me credit for being vastly magnanimous, upon my word! What then, Gabrielle, would you have me resign you without a struggle?--nay, am I expected to bring about your marriage with a rival? That is a little too much, forsooth!” “Nenni, Sire; I only ask you not to prevent it. Such artifice would be unworthy so generous a monarch to a faithful servant like poor Bellegarde, to whom I am--” and she could not help again laughing, so dismal was the look of the King--“to whom I am bound in all honour. Then there is your Majesty’s wife, the Queen of Navarre--for, Sire, you seem to forget that you have a wife.” “Yes, as I have a Crown, which I am never to wear. That infernal Marguerite is keeping her state with a vengeance, and forgetting, _par Dieu, she has a husband_. The people of Usson, in Auvergne, call shame on her; they know what she is better than I do.” “Sire, I beg of you to speak at least with respect of Madame Marguerite de France.” “Why should I not be frank with you, _ma belle_, at least? _Ah, Margot, la reine Margot, à la bonne heure!_ I only wish she were in her coffin at Saint-Denis along with her brothers. I shall be quit of a wife altogether until I enter Paris, and then we shall see--we shall see who will be crowned with me. But, _mignonne_, I must indeed bid you adieu. _Morbleu!_ my people will think I am lost, and besiege the château. Adieu until I can next come. I will write to you in the meantime. Remember to forget Bellegarde, as you value the favour of your Sovereign.” And kissing the scarf he had stolen from her, the King put spurs to his horse and galloped away into the darkness. Gabrielle d’Estrées followed his pernicious counsel but too readily, as the sequel will show. Unable to resist the continued blandishments of the King, and silencing her conscience by a belief in his promise of marriage, she sacrificed her lover, the Duc de Bellegarde, sincerely and honourably attached to her for many years and whom she had once really loved, for the sake of the gallant but licentious Henry. She followed the King to Mantes, in company with her father, whom the King made General of Artillery and loaded with honours. After this Henry would not hear of her returning to the Château of Cœuvres, a place, he said, too remote and difficult of access. He finally prevailed on her to accompany him to the camp at Saint-Germain. The Duc de Bellegarde was banished. In the autumn she was still at Saint-Germain, where the King, in his brief intervals of leisure, showed more and more delight in her society.