"In Heaven's name, speak not so loud, Sire, I implore you!" the cardinal exclaimed. "Yes, it is true, the prince has led and directed the whole affair, but from afar. These rascals call him the 'Silent Captain;' and he was to unmask himself after their first success. But failing that first success, he has not unmasked himself, nor will he do so. Therefore let us not drive him to that perilous extremity. Let us not seem to recognize in him the mighty head and front of the rebellion. Let us pretend not to see it, so that we may incur no risk of showing our feeling." "Nevertheless, Monsieur de Condé is the real arch-rebel!" said François, whose youthful impatience was little in sympathy with all these "governmental fictions," as they came to be called at a later day. "Very true, Sire," said Le Balafré; "but the prince, far from avowing his schemes, denies them. Let us pretend to believe his word. He came to-day to shut himself up here in Amboise, where he has been kept in sight, just as he has conspired, from a safe distance. Let us feign to accept him as an ally, which will be less hazardous than to have him for an avowed enemy. The prince, in fact, will assist us, if need be, to repel his own accomplices to-night, and be present at their execution to-morrow. Does he not thereby undergo a penalty a thousand times more grievous than any which is imposed upon us?" "Yes, indeed he does," replied the king; "but will he do that; and if he does, can it be possible that he is guilty?" "Sire," said the cardinal, "we have in our hands, and will deliver to your Majesty, if you desire, irrefragable proof of Monsieur de Condé's secret complicity. But the more flagrant and undeniable these proofs are, the more necessary is it for us to dissimulate; and, for my part, I deeply regret certain words which I have let fall, and which, if reported to the prince, might offend him." "What, you fear to _offend_ a culprit such as you say he is!" cried François. "But what is all this uproar without, in God's name? Can it be the rebels already?" "I will go and see," said the Duc de Guise. But before he had crossed the threshold, Richelieu, the captain of arquebusiers, entered, and said hastily to the king,-- "Pardon, Sire, but Monsieur de Condé thinks he overheard certain words reflecting upon his honor, and he urgently demands the privilege of clearing himself from these insulting suspicions in your Majesty's presence, once for all." The king might have refused to see the prince; but the Duc de Guise had already made a sign. Captain Richelieu's arquebusiers stepped aside, and Monsieur de Condé entered, with head erect and cheeks flushed.