“No, for those of M. de Mayenne.”
“Oh! I understand; your intention is to render to Cæsar——”
“Not to Cæsar, sire—Cæsar is the great general, the valiant warrior, the eldest brother, who wishes to be king of France. No, you must settle with him; pay your debts, and I will pay mine.”
Henri did not like to hear his cousin of Guise spoken of, and this made him serious. It was three o’clock in the afternoon when they arrived at Juvisy and the great hotel of the “Cour de France.”
Chicot, looking out of the litter, saw at the door of the hotel several men wrapped in cloaks. In the midst of them was a short, stout person, whose large hat almost covered his face. They went in quickly on seeing the litter, but not before the look of this person had had time to excite Chicot’s attention. Therefore he jumped out, and asking a page for his horse, which was being led, let the royal litter go on to Essones, where the king was to sleep, while he remained behind, and, cautiously peeping in through a window, saw the men whom he had noticed sitting inside. He then entered the hotel, went into the opposite room, asked for a bottle of wine, and placed himself so that, although he could not be seen, no one could pass by without his seeing them.
“Ah!” said he to himself, “shall I be forced to make my payment sooner than I expected?”
Soon Chicot found that by keeping the door open he could both see into the room and hear what was said.
“Gentlemen,” said the short fat man to his companions, “I think it is time to set out; the last lackey of the cortege is out of sight, and I believe now that the road is safe.”
“Perfectly so, monseigneur,” replied a voice which made Chicot tremble, and which came from the mouth of a person as tall as the other was short, as pale as he was red, and as obsequious as he was arrogant.
“Ah! M. Nicolas,” said Chicot, “tu quoque, that is good. It will be odd if I let you slip this time!”