"If I reason wrongly," replied Armandi, "my reasoning affects him not; but if my view is right, it matters much. I doubt, good father, that it is always true repentance which brings the libertine to the altar. My conviction is, that it is but one appetite gone, and another risen up in its place; and amongst such men, had I some good and reasonable cause,--some powerful motive to stir them up to action,--it is amongst such men, I say, that I should seek for one to undertake fearlessly, and execute resolutely, such a deed as that which has been proposed to me: and let me say too," he continued, a natural tendency to sneer at his companions getting the better of the moderation he had assumed; "and let me say, too, that I would seek for one whose reasoning powers, in the nice balance of the brain, would kick the beam when the opposite scale were loaded with animal passion and vagrant imagination. Do you understand me?" The Prior made no reply; but, starting up from his seat, walked up and down the room with his hands clasped, his head bent, and his lips muttering. In the meanwhile, Madame de Montpensier beckoned Armandi towards her, and held with him a brief conversation in an under tone. His communication with her, however, seemed to be much more free and unrestrained than it had been with the monk; for jest and laughter appeared to take the place of shrewd and somewhat bitter discussion; and, though looks of intelligence and significant gestures made up fully one half of what passed, the lady and the poisoner seemed to understand each other perfectly. Their conversation ended by Madame de Montpensier exclaiming aloud, "Oh, never fear, never fear! To attain that object I will act the angel myself, and go any lengths in that capacity." "Reverend father," continued the Princess, "this scheme is a hopeful one, easily executed, and involving no great risk." The Prior paused, and turned to listen to the Duchess, who knew much better how to treat him than Armandi. "What is the scheme, lady?" he demanded: "as yet I have heard of none, except vague hints regarding a brother of the order, mingled with sneers at religion and religious men, which, in better days, would have had their reward." "No, no, good father," replied the Duchess; "poor Armandi means no evil. Answer me one or two questions: think you not that Henry,--the excommunicated tyrant, the sacrilegious murderer of one of the prelates of the holy church, the friend of heretics, who is at this moment doing all that he can to spread heresy and destroy the Catholic faith in France;--think you not that he is without the pale of law, and that any means are justifiable to stop him in his damnable course, and save the holy church and the Catholic population in this country?"