It was by her desire that the command of the army of Guienne was bestowed upon him; and he had but recently returned to court, flushed with the successes he had gained over the Spaniards in Fontarabia. Vain and presumptuous, Bonnivet had offended most of the old commanders, but, being supported by the king and the duchess, he was unassailable. The person who stood next to Bonnivet, and who watched Bourbon's approach with as much surprise and as much curiosity as the Admiral, was very different in appearance and manner from the royal favourite, though equally richly attired. Though not handsome, he had a striking countenance, and his deportment was proud and martial. He was no other than the renowned Anne de Montmoreney, one of the haughtiest and wealthiest nobles of France, and one of the bravest of her captains. Though he did not envy Bonnivet the king's favour, nor seek to supplant him, he held him in contempt, and would probably have rejoiced in his downfall. Montmorency belonged to a ruder and hardier school than that represented by the Admiral, and had distinguished himself by many feats of arms and personal courage. On account of his valour and military skill he had just been named a marshal of France by the king. “By Heaven! it _is_ the Constable de Bourbon!” cried Bonnivet. “What brings him to Fontainebleau?” “I know not,” replied Montmorency, “but I trust he may be restored to the king's favour, and this abominable process abandoned.” “That is not likely to be the case,” remarked Bonnivet. “If Bourbon humbles himself, the king may overlook his faults--not otherwise.” “I have yet to learn what faults he has committed,” said Montmorency. “I know he has been unjustly treated, and so I shall not hesitate to tell the king.” “You had better not say as much to the duchess,” remarked Bonnivet. “Wherefore not?” demanded the marshal. “If this suit is pressed to an issue, mischievous consequences are sure to follow, and I therefore hope it may be amicably arranged. From Bourbon's appearance here, I augur favourably. If I can help to set the matter right, I will.” “Take my advice, marshal, and do not meddle in the matter,” said Bonnivet. “You will only incur the duchess's displeasure.” “I care not for that,” said Montmorency. “And yet it is to the duchess you owe your bâton. You are ungrateful, monsieur le maréchal.” These words were not uttered by Bonnivet, but by a singular personage, who had approached them unawares, and listened to their discourse. On turning, Montmorency beheld Triboulet, the king's jester. The court buffoon wore the parti-coloured garb proper to his office, and carried a bauble in his hand. Misshapen in person, he had high shoulders, long arms, large feet and hands, and an immense head. His brow was low, his eyes lighted up by a malicious flame, and his countenance altogether had a cunning and mischievous expression, which inspired fear while it excited mirth.