“Say not so, Charles. Since you have been made aware of my motives, you must view my conduct in a different light. Let the past be forgotten. Let all animosity be at an end between us. Henceforth, let us be friends--nay, more than friends. Do you not understand me, Charles?” “I would fain not do so, madame,” rejoined Bourbon, averting his gaze from her. “Let not resentment blind you to your own interests, Charles,” pursued the duchess. “You have felt my power to injure you. Henceforth, you shall find how well I can serve you. I can restore all you have lost--honours, commands, pensions. Nay, I can raise you higher than you have ever risen, and load you with wealth beyond your conception. All this I can do--and will do. Kneel down at my feet, Charles--not to supplicate my pardon, for that you have--but to renew those protestations of love which you once offered me. Kneel, I conjure you.” But Bourbon remained inflexible. “My knees would refuse their office were I inclined to comply,” he said. “Then I must perforce take on myself the part which of right belongs to you, Charles. By the death of your spouse, Suzanne de Bourbon, you are free to wed again. I offer you my hand. You ought to solicit it on your bended knee--but no matter!--I offer it to you.” “Is the king aware of your design, madame? Does he approve of the step?” demanded Bourbon. “The king sent for you at my instance to arrange the marriage,” rejoined the duchess. “His majesty's complaisance is carried to the extremest point,” said Bourbon. “But he seems to have taken my assent for granted--as you have done, madame.” “We could not doubt it,” said the duchess, smiling confidently. “The proposed union offers you too many advantages to be rejected.” “Enumerate them, I pray you?” said Bourbon. “First, then, the marriage will amicably settle the process between us, and will operate like a decree in your favour, for you will retain your possessions. Next, I shall bring you a royal dowry. As my husband, you will be second only in authority to the king. Nay, you will have greater power than he. You will find Louise de Savoi a very different wife from Suzanne de Bourbon. I will enrich you--I will augment your power--I will aggrandise you. You shall be king--all but in name.” “I doubt not your power to accomplish all this, madame,” rejoined Bourbon. “I know your unbounded influence over your son. I know you have filled your coffers from the royal treasures--as was proved by the confession of the wretched Semblençay, who gave you the five million ducats he ought to have sent to Italy, and who paid the penalty of his folly with his life. I know that in effect you have already despoiled me of my possessions-- “Dwell on these matters no longer, Charles,” she interrupted. “Forget the past, and look forward to a brilliant future. My offer is accepted?--speak!”