The king was afraid of failure, while the constable dreaded success much more. For success in that enterprise would definitely establish the Duc de Guise in the first rank, and relegate him to the second. The salvation of France would be the ruin of the poor constable, and we must confess that his selfishness had always taken precedence of his patriotism. So he was very uncourteous to the beautiful favorite who advanced smilingly toward him. Our readers will remember the inexplicable and depraved passion which the mistress of the most courtly and gallant king in Christendom entertained for this brutal veteran. "What is the trouble with my old soldier to-day?" she asked in her most winning tones. "Ah, so you mock me too, do you, Madame?" said Montmorency, sharply. "I mock you, my friend! You don't realize what you are saying." "I was thinking of what you said yourself," rejoined the constable, with a muttered curse. "You called me your old soldier. Old? yes, that is true; I am no longer a beau of twenty years. Soldier? no. You can see plainly that I am no longer considered good for anything except to show myself with my parade sword in the halls of the Louvre." "Do not speak so," said the favorite, with an affectionate smile. "Are you not still the _constable_?" "What does a constable amount to, when there is a lieutenant-general of the kingdom?" "The latter title expires with the circumstances which called it into existence, while yours, being attached, with no power of revocation, to the highest military dignity in the kingdom, will last as long as your life." "But I am already dead and buried," said the constable, with a bitter laugh. "Why do you say that, my friend?" replied Madame de Poitiers. "You have not ceased to be as powerful and as formidable to the nation's enemies without as to your personal enemies within." "Let us talk seriously, Diane, and not try to flatter or deceive each other with empty words." "If I deceive you, it is only because I myself am deceived," Diane rejoined. "Give me proofs that I am wrong, and I will not only acknowledge my error on the spot, but I will do all I can to rectify it." "Very well," said the constable; "in the first place, you speak of the enemies without trembling before me. Those are very comforting words; but, in reality, who is sent against these enemies?--a general who is younger and doubtless more fortunate than myself, but who may some day turn this good fortune of his to his own private advantage." "What makes you think that the Duc de Guise will succeed?" asked Diane, with most subtle flattery. "His failure," replied the constable, hypocritically, "would be a terrible misfortune for France, which I should bitterly deplore for my country's sake; but his success would perhaps be an even more terrible misfortune, which I should dread for the sake of my sovereign." "Do you believe then," said Diane, "that the ambition of Monsieur de Guise--"