"You are accused, cousin," said the queen-mother, sternly, "of taking part in the conspiracy of the Reformers; and you must prove yourself a faithful subject and a good Catholic, if you do not desire to draw down upon your house the anger of the king."Hearing these words said, in the midst of the most profound silence, by Catherine de' Medici, on whose right arm the king was leaning, the Duc d'Orleans being on her left side, the Prince de Conde recoiled three steps, laid his hand on his sword with a proud motion, and looked at all the persons who surrounded him.
"Those who said that, madame," he cried in an angry voice, "lied in their throats!"Then he flung his glove at the king's feet, saying: "Let him who believes that calumny come forward!"The whole court trembled as the Duc de Guise was seen to leave his place; but instead of picking up the glove, he advanced to the intrepid hunchback.
"If you desire a second in that duel, monseigneur, do me the honor to accept my services," he said. "I will answer for you; I know that you will show the Reformers how mistaken they are if they think to have you for their leader."The prince was forced to take the hand of the lieutenant-general of the kingdom. Chicot picked up the glove and returned it to Monsieur de Conde.
"Cousin," said the little king, "you must draw your sword only for the defence of the kingdom. Come and dine."The Cardinal de Lorraine, surprised at his brother's action, drew him away to his own apartments. The Prince de Conde, having escaped his apparent danger, offered his hand to Mary Stuart to lead her to the dining hall; but all the while that he made her flattering speeches he pondered in his mind what trap the astute Balafre was setting for him.
In vain he worked his brains, for it was not until Queen Mary herself betrayed it that he guessed the intention of the Guises.
"'Twould have been a great pity," she said laughing, "if so clever a head had fallen; you must admit that my uncle has been generous.""Yes, madame; for my head is only useful on my shoulders, though one of them is notoriously higher than the other. But is this really your uncle's generosity? Is he not getting the credit of it rather cheaply?
Do you think it would be so easy to take off the head of a prince of the blood?""All is not over yet," she said. "We shall see what your conduct will be at the execution of the noblemen, your friends, at which the Council has decided to make a great public display of severity.""I shall do," said the prince, "whatever the king does.""The king, the queen-mother, and myself will be present at the execution, together with the whole court and the ambassadors--""A fete!" said the prince, sarcastically.
"Better than that," said the young queen, "an /act of faith/, an act of the highest policy. 'Tis a question of forcing the noblemen of France to submit themselves to the Crown, and compelling them to give up their tastes for plots and factions--""You will not break their belligerent tempers by the show of danger, madame; you will risk the Crown itself in the attempt," replied the prince.
At the end of the dinner, which was gloomy enough, Queen Mary had the cruel boldness to turn the conversation openly upon the trial of the noblemen on the charge of being seized with arms in their hands, and to speak of the necessity of making a great public show of their execution.
"Madame," said Francois II., "is it not enough for the king of France to know that so much brave blood is to flow? Must he make a triumph of it?""No, sire; but an example," replied Catherine.
"It was the custom of your father and your grandfather to be present at the burning of heretics," said Mary Stuart.
"The kings who reigned before me did as they thought best, and Ichoose to do as I please," said the little king.
"Philip the Second," remarked Catherine, "who is certainly a great king, lately postponed an /auto da fe/ until he could return from the Low Countries to Valladolid.""What do you think, cousin?" said the king to Prince de Conde.
"Sire, you cannot avoid it, and the papal nuncio and all the ambassadors should be present. I shall go willingly, as these ladies take part in the fete."Thus the Prince de Conde, at a glance from Catherine de' Medici, bravely chose his course.
At the moment when the Prince de Conde was entering the chateau d'Amboise, Lecamus, the furrier of the two queens, was also arriving from Paris, brought to Amboise by the anxiety into which the news of the tumult had thrown both his family and that of Lallier. When the old man presented himself at the gate of the chateau, the captain of the guard, on hearing that he was the queens' furrier, said:--"My good man, if you want to be hanged you have only to set foot in this courtyard."Hearing these words, the father, in despair, sat down on a stone at a little distance and waited until some retainer of the two queens or some servant-woman might pass who would give him news of his son. But he sat there all day without seeing any one whom he knew, and was forced at last to go down into the town, where he found, not without some difficulty, a lodging in a hostelry on the public square where the executions took place. He was obliged to pay a pound a day to obtain a room with a window looking on the square. The next day he had the courage to watch, from his window, the execution of all the abettors of the rebellion who were condemned to be broken on the wheel or hanged, as persons of little importance. He was happy indeed not to see his own son among the victims.
