Councillor to the Parlement! The words distracted Christophe's brain. Long after the conference was over, one morning when Christophe sat gazing at the river, which reminded him of the scene that was the beginning of all this story, of the Prince de Condé, la Renaudie, and Chaudieu, of his journey to Blois, and of all he hoped for, the Syndic came to sit down by his son with ill-disguised glee under an affectation of solemnity. "My boy," said he, "after what took place between you and the heads of the riot at Amboise, they owed you so much that your future might very well be cared for by the House of Navarre." "Yes," replied Christophe. "Well," his father went on, "I have definitely applied for permission for you to purchase a legal business in Béarn. Our good friend Paré undertook to transmit the letters I wrote in your name to the Prince de Condé and Queen Jeanne.--Here, read this reply from Monsieur de Pibrac, Vice-Chancellor of Navarre:-- "_To Master Lecamus, Syndic of the Guild of Furriers._ "His Highness the Prince de Condé bids me express to you his regret at being unable to do anything for his fellow-prisoner in the Tour de Saint-Aignan, whom he remembers well, and to whom, for the present, he offers the place of man-at-arms in his own company, where he will have the opportunity of making his way as a man of good heart--which he is. "The Queen of Navarre hopes for an occasion of rewarding Master Christophe, and will not fail. "And with this, Monsieur le Syndic, I pray God have you in His keeping. PIBRAC, "_Chancellor of Navarre_. "Nérac." "Nérac! Pibrac! Crac!" cried Babette. "There is nothing to be got out of these Gascons; they think only of themselves." Old Lecamus was looking at his son with ironical amusement. "And he wants to set a poor boy on horseback whose knees and ankles were pounded up for him!" cried the mother. "What a shameful mockery!" "I do not seem to see you as a Councillor in Navarre," said the old furrier. "I should like to know what Queen Catherine would do for me if I petitioned her," said Christophe, much crest-fallen. "She made no promises," said the old merchant, "but I am sure she would not make a fool of you, and would remember your sufferings. Still, how could she make a councillor-at-law of a Protestant citizen?" "But Christophe has never abjured!" exclaimed Babette. "He may surely keep his own secret as to his religious opinions." "The Prince de Condé would be less scornful of a Councillor to the Parlement of Paris," said Lecamus. "A Councillor, father! Is it possible?" "Yes, if you do nothing to upset what I am managing for you. My neighbor Lallier here is ready to pay two hundred thousand livres, if I add as much again, for the purchase of a fine estate entailed on the heirs male, which we will hand over to you."