“My lord bishop,” said the king, sternly, “I will not hear a word in the traitor's behalf. He can expect no grace from me, and, by Saint Louis! he shall have none. He thinks himself safe in Chantelle, but I will take it in a week; and if he seeks refuge in the mountains of Auvergne, I will hunt him down like a wild beast. I will proclaim him as a rebel and traitor throughout the realm, and set a price of ten thousand golden crowns upon his head. All who shall harbour him, or assist him or any of His followers, shall be held guilty of treason. And now, my lord bishop, a word with you. You are concerned in this conspiracy, and, if you would obtain grace and restoration to my favour, you will not hesitate to reveal all you know respecting it.” “I have nothing to reveal, sire,” replied the bishop. “You are the depositary of the Constable's secrets, my lord,” remarked François, sternly. “Whatever his highness may have confided to me under the seal of confession, is sacred, sire,” rejoined the bishop. “That excuse will not avail you, my lord. You are bound to disclose a conspiracy against your sovereign. By Saint Louis! I _will_ have the truth. All those who are in any way implicated in the plot, or suspected, shall be immediately arrested. One of the chief conspirators is already in my power. I will interrogate him at once. Bring the Comte de Saint-Vallier before me,” he added to Warthy. “You will find him in the adjoining tent, with his daughter, the Comtesse de Maulévrier.” “Am I to arrest him, sire?” demanded Warthy. The king replied in the affirmative, and Warthy departed on his errand, returning presently with Saint-Vallier, who was guarded by two halberdiers. Just as François was about to interrogate the prisoner, Diane de Poitiers rushed into the tent, and threw herself at the king's feet, exclaiming: “My father has been unjustly accused, sire. He is no traitor.” “I trust he may be able to clear himself, madame,” rejoined the king, raising her gently. “But as it will be painful to you to listen to his examination, I must pray you to retire.” “You have disobeyed my injunctions in coming hither, Diane,” said Saint-Vallier, reproachfully. “Your presence adds to my trouble. Go, I implore you!” “No, no, I will not leave you,” she rejoined. “I may be able to plead your cause. I can show his majesty that he has not a more loyal subject than yourself--that you are incapable of the crime with which you are charged--and that if there should be a conspiracy headed by the Duke de Bourbon, which I cannot--will not--believe, you have no part in it.” “Can the Comte dc Saint-Vallier himself give me such assurance, madame?” said the king. “Undoubtedly, sire,” replied Diane. “Speak, father! You have no share in any plot?” “I know of no plot,” rejoined Saint-Vallier. “But I am well aware that I have many enemies, who would not hesitate to accuse me falsely. Who charges me with conspiracy against your majesty?” he added to the king.