The Duc de Guise frowned.
"Sire," returned the Béarnais, "a war with Flanders is spoken of, and I am collecting round me all those gentlemen of my country and its neighborhood whom I think can be useful to your Majesty."
The duke, calling to mind the pretended project Henry had mentioned to Marguerite the day of their marriage, listened still more attentively.
"Well, well," replied the King, with his sinister smile, "the more the better; let them all come, Henry. But who are these gentlemen?—brave ones, I trust."
"I know not, sire, if my gentlemen will ever equal those of your Majesty, or the Duc d'Anjou's, or the Duc de Guise's, but I know that they will do their best."
"Do you expect many?"
"Ten or a dozen more."
"What are their names?"
"Sire, their names escape me, and with the exception of one, whom Téligny recommended to me as a most accomplished gentleman, and whose name is De la Mole, I cannot tell."
"De la Mole!" exclaimed the King, who was deeply skilled in the science of genealogy; "is he not a Lerac de la Mole, a Provençal?"