In one of those fits of suspecting his brother, with which Henry was occasionally seized, he went by night to put him under arrest, and, at the same time, he sent Bussy to the Bastile. On the following morning, a council was held, at which, prompted by the queen mother, the ministers declared that the step which the king had taken was impolitic, and advised him to be reconciled with the duke. Henry consented. The only stipulation which he made was, that Bussy, on being liberated, should be reconciled to Caylus, the king’s favourite, with whom he was at enmity. Bussy complied, and, in complying, contrived to throw ridicule on the weak monarch. “Sire,” said he, “if you wish me to kiss him, I am quite ready to do it;” then, suiting the action to the word, he embraced Caylus in such a thoroughly farcical style, that the spectators were unable to repress their laughter. It was not long before the libertinism of Bussy supplied Henry with the means of destroying him. It is probable that, in his amours, the pleasure of betraying the women who confided in him formed one of the greatest inducements to pursue them—a base feeling, which is still prevalent. In a letter to the duke of Anjou, he boasted that he had been spreading his nets for the Great Huntsman’s beast, and that he held her fast in them. The Great Huntsman was the count de Montsoreau, who held that office; the beast, as she was politely called, was the count’s wife, whom the profligate writer had seduced. This letter Anjou put into the king’s hands, as a good jest. Henry kept it, and communicated it to the count, whom he urged to revenge himself on the offender. Montsoreau was not backward to follow the king’s advice. He hurried home, and compelled his wife to write to Bussy, to make an assignation with him. Bussy was true to the appointment. Instead, however, of meeting the countess, he was attacked by Montsoreau and several men, all of whom wore coats of mail. In spite of the odds against him, he fought for some time with determined spirit; but, finding that he must eventually be overpowered, he tried to escape through the window, and was slain by a stab in the back. “The whole province,” says de Thou, “was delighted at his fall, and even the duke of Anjou was not very sorry to be rid of a man who began to be a burthen to him.” CHAPTER IV.