"Well, are you not yourself an eminent man, count? But alas! my power is so precarious; my throne is upon the brink of an abyss. Even at this moment I am in mortal terror. The king has for a mistress the wife of a nobody, a petty judge named Féron. If the woman were ambitious we should be ruined. I ought to have taken the initiative myself in this whim of his Majesty's. Ah! I shall never find another like the little Duchesse de Brissac, whom I presented to him; a sweet woman of no force of character, a mere child. I shall always weep for her; she was not dangerous, and talked to the king of nothing but my perfections. Poor Marie! she assumed all the burdens of my position, and left me all the benefits. But this Féronnière, as they call her, why, it requires all my power to draw François I. away from her. I have exhausted my whole arsenal of seductions, and am driven, alas! to my last intrenchment, habit."
"How so, madame?"
"Mon Dieu, yes, I devote myself almost exclusively to his mind now, for his heart is elsewhere; you can understand how much I need an auxiliary. Where can I find her,—a devoted, sincere friend, of whom I can be sure? Ah! I would repay her with such quantities of gold and such a host of honors! Seek out such a one for me, D'Orbec. You know how closely the king and the man are allied in the person of our sovereign, and to what lengths the man can lead the king on. If we could be, not rivals but allies, not mistresses but friends; if, while one held sway over François, the other might hold sway over François I., France would be ours, count, and at what a moment! just as Charles V. is about to plunge into our net of his own free will, when we can hold him to ransom on such terms as we choose, and take advantage of his imprudence to assure ourselves a magnificent future in case of accident. I will explain my plans to you, D'Orbec. This Diane who pleases you so much would no longer threaten our fortunes, and the Chevalier de France might become—But here is the king."
Such was the way of Madame d'Etampes; she rarely explained her meaning, but left it to be guessed. She would sow ideas in a man's mind, and set avarice, ambition, and natural perversity at work; and then she would conveniently interrupt herself. A great and useful art, which cannot be too highly commended to many poets and innumerable lovers.
So it was that Comte d'Orbec, eager in the pursuit of gain and honors, corrupt to the last degree and worn out by years and dissipation, perfectly understood the duchess, whose eyes more than once during the interview had wandered toward Colombe.
Ascanio's noble and straightforward nature was quite incapable of sounding the depths of this mystery of iniquity and infamy, but he had a vague foreboding that this strange and ominous conversation concealed some terrible peril for his beloved, and he gazed at Madame d'Etampes in terror.
An usher announced the king and queen. In an instant everybody was standing, hat in hand.
"God have you in his keeping, messieurs," said François as he entered the room. "I have some weighty news which I must make known to you at once. Our dear brother, the Emperor Charles V., is at this moment en route for France, if he has not already passed the frontier. Let us prepare, messieurs, to welcome him worthily. I need not remind my loyal nobility of the obligations imposed upon us by the laws of hospitality at such a time. We proved at the Field of the Cloth of Gold, that we knew how kings should be received. Within the month Charles V., will be at the Louvre."
"And I, my lords," said Queen Eleanora in her sweet voice, "thank you in advance in my royal brother's name for the welcome you will accord him."
The nobles replied with shouts of "Vive le Roi! Vive la Reine! Vive l'Empereur!"