“What have I done for you?” asked the King, who had not expected this retort and did not like to be jested with when he had wanted to have his fun.
“Sire, your Majesty has given my nephew Aiguillon the command of the Royal Light-horse. To do that for a nobleman who has many foes, all your Majesty’s energy and statecraft were required—it is almost a movement of Royalty itself against all comers.”
This was at the end of the repast; the King just waited an instant before he rose. Conversation might have embarrassed him: but Richelieu did not want to release his prey. While the King was chatting with the others he worked round so dextrously as to have an opening to say:
“Sire, it is well-known that success emboldens a man.”
“Are you bold, then, duke?”
“I make so bold as to ask for another boon after the many I am thanking your Majesty for: it is for an old comrade of mine, a good old friend, and one of your Majesty’s best servitors. He has a son in the army. He is a young man of merit but wants the purse. An august princess has gratified him with the brevet rank of captain but he has no company to command.”
“Is the princess my daughter?” asked the King.
“Yes, Sire, and the young gentleman is the son and heir of Baron Taverney.”
“My father!” Andrea could not help exclaiming, “Philip? do you beg a company for my brother, Philip?”
Ashamed of her breach of etiquet in speaking without the Royals putting a question, she fell back a step, blushing and wringing her hands. The King turned to admire her blushes and emotion; then he gave the wily courtier a glance teaching him how agreeable the request was by reason of its timeliness.