“Do you think I have not my reasons for being tranquil? You think that I have allowed these poor conspirators to go too far. No, no! Here are some little papers that would reassure you, did you know their contents. First, in this hollow stick is the treaty with Spain, seized at Oleron. I am well satisfied with Laubardemont; he is an able man.”
The fire of ferocious jealousy sparkled under the thick eyebrows of the monk.
“Ah, Monseigneur,” said he, “you know not from whom he seized it. He certainly suffered him to die, and in that respect we can not complain, for he was the agent of the conspiracy; but it was his son.”
“Say you the truth?” cried the Cardinal, in a severe tone. “Yes, for you dare not lie to me. How knew you this?”
“From his attendants, Monsiegneur. Here are their reports. They will testify to them.”
The Cardinal having examined these papers, said:
“We will employ him once more to try our conspirators, and then you shall do as you like with him. I give him to you.”
Joseph joyfully pocketed his precious denunciations, and continued:
“Your Eminence speaks of trying men who are still armed and on horseback.”
“They are not all so. Read this letter from Monsieur to Chavigny. He asks for pardon. He dared not address me the first day, and his prayers rose no higher than the knees of one of my servants.