So, while he partook of the solid breakfast which Maître Julien had placed before him, Gilles read the letter which the gracious Queen had sent to him. It ran thus:
'Highly Honoured Seigneur,
'My Faithful and Loyal Friend!
'The present is to tell You that all is well with our schemes. I have seen Monsieur, who already is wearied of Madame de Marquette, and like a School boy who has been whipped for disobedience, is at this moment fawning round my Skirts, ready to do anything that I may command. Was I not right? I prophesied that this would be so. Thus Your labours on My behalf have not been in fain. And now I pray you to carry through the matter to a triumphant conclusion. In less than three months Monsieur will be Sovereign Lord of the Netherlands, with the hand of the Flemish Heiress as a priceless additional guerdon. In the meanwhile, as no doubt You know already, the Armies of the Duke of Parma lie between Us and Cambray. Monsieur is busy collecting together the necessary Forces to do battle against the Spaniards. He is prepared to enter Cambray in triumph, to marry the Lady blindfolded, since You say that She is adorable; in fact He is in the best of moods and consents to everything which I desire. Meanwhile, Messire de Balagny, who is Chief of Monsieur's camp, is on his way with full details of our projects for the final defeat of the Spaniards. He has a small troop with him, whom he will leave at La Fère until after he hath spoken with You. I urge You, Messire, in the meanwhile to entreat M. le Baron d'Inchy not to surrender the City to the Duke of Parma. I pray You to assure Him—in Your name as Duc d'Anjou et d'Alençon—that the whole Might of France, of which Messire de Balagny's small troop is but the forerunner, is at Your beck and call; that You will use it in order to free the Netherlands from the Spanish yoke. Tell him that the next few months will see the final overthrow of King Philip's domination in the Netherlands and a prince of the house of France as their Sovereign Lord. Say anything, promise anything, Messire! I swear to You that Monsieur is prepared to redeem any pledge You may enter into in his Name. Then, when Messire de Balagny arrives in Cambray, You can make this Your excuse for quitting the City, nominally in order to place Yourself at the head of Your armies. Messire de Balagny, who is in My confidence, will then remain, not only to take command of the Garrison and help with his small troop to defend the City from within, but also as a guarantee for Monsieur's good faith. See how splendidly I have thought everything out, how perfectly events are shaping themselves for the success of Our schemes! Patience a brief while longer, Messire! Your time of trial is drawing to an end! Confess that it hath not been a very severe ordeal and that You have derived much enjoyment from mystifying some of those over obtuse Flemings. I count with pleasure and impatience upon Your arrival in La Fère very shortly, where the gratitude of a sorely tried Queen will be awaiting You. If You now help me to carry the affair through to a triumphant close, I vow that on the day that Monsieur makes his state entry into Cambray there will be naught that You can ask of Me and which if in My power to give that I would not bestow with a joyful heart upon you.
'Until then, I remain, Messire,
'Your earnest Well-Wisher,
'Marguerlte de Navarre.
'Given in Paris, under My hand and seal this 27th day of March 1581.'
V
The letter fell from Messire Gilles' hand unheeded on to the floor. He was staring straight out before him, a world of perplexity in his eyes. Maître Jehan tried in vain to fathom what went on behind his master's lowering brow. Surely the news which he had brought was of the most cheering and of the best. The present humiliating position could not now last very long. Messire de Balagny was on his way, and within a few days—hours, perhaps—he and Messire could once more resume those happy, adventurous times of the past. And yet it seemed as if Messire was not altogether happy. There was something in his attitude, in the droop of his listless hands, as if something bright and hopeful had just slipped out of his grasp—which to Jehan's mind was manifestly absurd.
So he shrugged his wide shoulders and solemnly picked up the fallen letter and pressed it back into Messire's hand. The action roused Gilles from his gloomy meditations.
'Well, my good Jehan!' he said with a grim laugh, which grated very unpleasantly on faithful Jehan's ears. 'If the rest of your news is as good as that contained in Madame la Reyne's letter, you and I will presently find ourselves the two luckiest devils in Flanders.'